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badgerbl00d · 8 months

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captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days.

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now. A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient.

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians.

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head. An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.”

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back.

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off.

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright.

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well.

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards.

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message.

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?”

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath.

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance.

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never.

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped.

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love.

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned.

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough.

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks.

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said.

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

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heartpiratedrabbles · 5 months

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His Hat

Prompt: Courtesy of @tsunderedonut: Imagine Law putting his hat on his shy, vulnerable S/O that's riding him for the first time.

NSFW

Trafalgar Law X Reader

You have confidence. You’re courageous. You weren’t self-conscience at all. When it came to your job. Being a mechanic for the Polar Tang was like a dream job for you. You stayed in the boiler room watching levels go up and down and you knew exactly how to fix any leaks or breaks that came about. You were ecstatic when the Surgeon of Death came to your shore so long-ago needing repairs and just so happened to see you’re value onboard the ship after fixing everything, eagerly packing your bags to join the crew.

You were not, however, prepared for love. Despite being on the world for over 2 decades, you had only gone on one hap-hazard date that your friend had set you up on, and needless to say it ended up awful. The man flirted with your roommate right in front of you, and despite your naivety, even you knew what he was doing. Plus, with a few undesirable stalkers here and there, you decided dating wasn’t for you. And so, your short, non-existing love life had come to an end.

That is until you joined the Heart Pirates. After getting to know everyone on board you realized your feelings for your captain burned like a wild fire. It was dangerous and weird, being completely new territory compared to what you have felt before. At first you had thought it was some ship-madness, you were warned by your captain/doctor when you arrived that it could take a while to get use to life on a submarine, even more so when they rarely surfaced. But as you went about your duties and getting to know the crew, you realized that your heart never beat that fast around the others, even so you tried to deny such feelings.

You got close to Penguin as he often came to the boiler room for menial tasks and found more out about, your captain. Despite his cold, non-caring demeanor, he always made sure everyone was alright. And although he didn’t show it, he did enjoy the antics played by the crew. Although he demanded his alone time, he was just as often to be found in the rec-room watching as others drank or played a game. Penguin also clued you in that once a month Law joined in on any game of the crews picking to stay connected.

And it wasn’t until you were drinking alongside Penguin, that he confronted you, “So you like Law huh?” He chattered out after taking a swig of his glass. You choked on what you were drinking, nearly spitting it out at his words, your face turning the brightest shade of red he had ever seen. “Jeez, blush any harder and the rest of your body won’t have any blood,” He had laughed out at your reaction.

“What?!?” You practically yelled at him, you felt your body stiffen at the thought and you could hear Shachi in the background ask if Penguin was bullying you. “I don’t like anyone. Never have,” You tried to reason taking the last swig of your drink, you didn’t know the feelings of love. The uncomfortable, painful feelings of unrequited love that made you dumb in the mind and weak in your knees, stomach slightly queasy at the thought of someone.

“Please, you only pay attention to my ramblings when I’m talking about him. No need to be shy Y/N,” Penguin grinned out before reaching over to fill your glass up again, “Just relax. Feelings aren’t going to hurt you.” You looked around to see if anyone else was listening in but other than Shachi glancing at you two from across the room, everyone else seemed occupied.

The thought of sharing your life with someone, with Law of all people, everything from the simple hand holding to the fantasies of sharing a bed, going on small dates and being marked in one way or another. You shake your head violently to get rid of such things before downing your entire glass. “There’s no way Penguin.” You squeaked out not making eye contact with him.

“Denile will get you no where Y/N. Just accept it, I didn’t realize you were such a virgin when it came to matters of the heart,” He laughed at your misery, and how your eyes fixed on a portion of the table in front of you.

“I don’t have feelings Penguin! Feelings are messy squishy things that don’t make sense. I’m not stupid enough to let something I can’t control distract me from my life,” You pipe out quickly, grabbing the bottle from the man’s hands to take another swig. He smirked at you, unconvinced of your words, “Just because I sometimes think about him doesn’t mean anything!” You immediately stop, eyes wide as you look at Penguin, whose smirk has turned into a full toothed grin.

“You’re right! Feelings don’t make sense. But you can’t stop them from happening,” He gleefully said, “Excuse me one second.” You watch as he stood up, “You owe me 20 Berries Shachi!” He yelled across the room while walking over to the grumbling crewmember.

You slam your head against the table with a ‘thud’. Feelings. Sure, you imagined how it would feel like to have the captain by your side, to be able to capture his eyes and keep him for yourself. You held your breathe at such thoughts, that could never happen. Hiding your face in your arms, you heard Penguin return to his seat but you couldn’t look at him.

Over the next couple of weeks, the pair would make quips and remarks of your crush if you were alone with them, instantly making you freeze like an ice cube. The prodding from them had made your feelings all the more evident to yourself and it had made it harder and harder to bury such fuzzy emotions. You weren’t the most social of person, but now you found it harder than ever to talk to anyone, the embarrassment and fear of them finding out about your unrequited feelings being too much for you to bear. The only time you’d be able to speak confidently is if it was about work, it was easy to avoid emotions when you had to think in facts and bury them with work.

That is, until you noticed a particularly important part starting to show signs of breaking. Best to take care of it now than be in trouble later, you headed to your Captains office for approval to buy the new part. He hadn’t been expecting you but happily let you into his quiet office. You stood in front of his desk explaining the issue and how it’d be better to replace it now and he seemed to agree.

But as you turned to leave, he called out, “Y/N-ya,” you stopped in your tracks. Had one of your maintenance reports not been up to par? You’re back still turned to him your mind was reeling at what you could have messed up but you were certain there was no way you would turn in half-assed work. And then, your mind suddenly stopped. Realizing where you were, who you were talking to. Your heart beating faster, cheeks turning slightly red. “I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me recently,” Law’s voice rang out in the room, his smooth deep voice, addressing you and not something to do with your job. “Did I do something wrong?”

You pick your head up slightly at the last sentence, snapping around to face him head on, frantically trying to reassure that it has nothing to do with him, “I just haven’t been feeling well-“ You quickly pipe out not thinking of anything else as you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Law perks up at your sudden excuse, immediately standing up, taking long strides to get to you quickly. A hand immediately going to your forehead, freezing at the sudden contact you feel your cheeks burn up, “You do seem to have a fever,” He muttered to himself before activating his powers to transport the both of you to the med bay. “Sit down real quick,” He demanded as he went to grab a stethoscope.

It was hard to breathe. Here you were with a stupid school-girl crush, making your Captain worried over nothing. Yet you couldn’t quite seem to find the right words, trying to push off your illness as a quick thing that’d be gone soon. But Law would hear none of it. Quickly he listened to your heart, asking you to breathe in and out as you whine out that it’s truly nothing. It’s not until he places a hand on your back to keep you from shying away that he realized your heart beating faster at his own touch.

He quickly glanced up at your face, that you were desperately trying to hide from him by staring at the far corner away from him. “Are you truly unwell Y/N-ya?” He firmly asked, demanding a truthful answer.

And just like that your Captain found out your feelings for him. You rushed to your room the second you felt his touch leave you to ignore the rejection you refused to hear. And it wasn’t until the next day that Law had come to find you of his own accord, asking you out on a date the next time they reached land.

~~~

That was months ago, 6 months to be precise. And ever since you had been dating the man in front of you. You still couldn’t believe it, it felt unreal. “It seems like your mind is elsewhere love,” He leaned up to give you a peck on the lips, gently taking your hands in his.

You had decided to try and be forward yourself this time round, and couldn’t help but feeling like backing out now. You had certainly had sex before but it was never like this, not when the lights were still on, not when you could see his reactions. The simple fact sending your head reeling at how hot Law was underneath you.

You had lured him back to his room, claiming you needed to talk to him. You had been slightly jealous of how he was talking to a bar maiden on land and immediately confronted him, only now losing your nerve. The second he stepped into the room you had slammed the door shut and pushed him on the bed, straddling him before you were going to ride him. But the second you got on top of him your mind started working again. This was also the first time you were truly on top of him, looking down at him, seeing how he stared back up at you with heat in his eyes. You cheeks become more red as you avoid his gaze.

“What were you going to do now that we’re alone?” Law smirks while looking at you, no doubt enjoying how flustered you looked. He gripped your hips before jutting his own up into you. You fall forward, the movement snapping you out of your daze.

“I. I was,” You try to stutter out as he lifts your shirt up, and you let him rip it off you, his eyes staring right into you. You look down slightly, still avoiding eye contact, “I was gonna remind you that your mine.” You whisper, embarrassed at the thought now.

Law gleefully shifts, taking off his own shirt in the process, “And how were you going to do that?” He urges you to continue. Law enjoyed watching how flustered you could get, despite dating for a decent amount of time you still couldn’t control yourself in situations where he’s giving you all his attention. Looking down at him, you quickly cover his eyes with one of your hands.

“No looking,” You whine out as you start to get off him, “You have to give me a second.” Law chuckles a bit but goes to move his hat, which had fallen a couple inches away when you pushed him, over his eyes, assuring you he won’t take a peek. After a quick second of making sure he can’t see you, you stand up fully.

You look at the man in front of you before turning around, taking off your pants quickly, glancing over your shoulder just to be sure. Law decides humming will distract him in this situation. Frustrated at your playful boyfriend, you get to work on his pants, him lifting his hips slightly to help you undress him. His cock springing up as you release it from its cloth prison.

Law lets you widen his legs as you kneel between them, stopping just inches away from his dick. You see movement from the corner of your eye and snap your head back up, “No peeking!” You yell out more embarrassed at your own actions than anything else. Law puts his arm back down, deciding to keep quiet for the time being.

You take one more deep breath before you wrap your lips around him. Slowly bobbing your head up and down, covering his member in saliva. The salty taste of his precum making you go insane with desire. Your slow pacing doesn’t seem up to Law’s standards as he bucks his hips forward, making you gag in the process. You place both your hands on his hips to try and control your boyfriend, and while he didn’t stop entirely from pumping his hips towards your head, he was a little gentler.

“Fuck Y/N-ya,” Law groaned out when you sat up, leaving his cock wanting for more. You looked up to make sure he still couldn’t see you and sighed when you saw the hat still in place. Readjusting yourself to now be sitting on him again you could hear him take a sharp breath. His throbbing cock in one hand, aiming it towards your entrance as you sink down on him slowly. It felt completely different than normal. You were in control, and every inch was touching you in places you didn’t think was possible. The pleasure already overwhelming.

You try to hold in your own moan as you sink lower, feeling impossibly full as he bottoms out in you. You sit there for a second, hands on Law’s abs to steady yourself, holding your breath at this new pleasure you’ve discovered before grinding your hips, feeling him deep inside you. You finally remember to breathe after Law decides to thrust up into you, falling forward on his chest as he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to him. You gasp for air, moaning his name as he sets a brutal pace.

“L-Law,” You moan out in frustration and you look up to see him shift his head to peek out from under the hat, with an absolutely devilish grin on his face.

He places a kiss on your forehead, “Yes love?” He thrusts into you again and you wiggle one of your arms free, prying yourself out of his arms to sit back up. Only to be met with another wave of pleasure at the different angle. You mind becoming empty of most thoughts as you hear the man below you chuckle. He reaches up taking his hat and placing it on your head, caressing your body before landing both his hands on your hips. You gasp a bit as he holds you down slightly, feeling him twitching inside you.

With some encouragement from his large hands, you start to ride Law like there’s no tomorrow. Barely being able to breathe yourself as he hits every sensitive part of you. Every now and then stopping to feel how full you feel with him in you. Tears brimming your eyes as your mind is flooded with pleasure and lust.

Laws eyes devour you, savoring every inch as he watches you bounce on him. Your head lulled back and forth; mouth hung open as you scream his name. His hat would be covering your eyes if you hadn’t been continuously pushing it up before going back to steadying yourself on him. The sight before him being a drug he never knew he was addicted too until you had come around. He feels you twitch around him and he stops his own thrusts, gripping your hips to stop you from moving any further.

“Law!” you scream out at the lack of movement, grinding your hips for any friction. He smirks up at you, not responding, watching as you desperately try to bounce despite not being able too. Law slowly raises his hips, holding your hips in the same spot, reaching deeper than before and it begins to feel like it too much. You cry trying to squirm, move, anything to help relieve the pressure that was making you insane. “Please Law,” you beg him to do something.

You can barely see his face underneath you, the hat falling over your eyes, but you’re certain Law has a smirk on his face as he ignores your pleads. Gasping for air you finally fall forward, gripping your boyfriends’ shoulders, “It’s too much- Please Law,” You beg into his chest trying to move even an inch over feeling how deep he is. How you can still feel him twitch slightly inside of you at every moan and plead. Making your mind numb from the overwhelming pleasure and pressure building up.

After a quick second, Law lifts your chin with one of his hands, the other still firmly planted on your hip, “You’re adorable Y/N-ya.” Law whispers it while staring right into your tear stained eyes, kissing you gently before suddenly flipping you over so that you are now on your back. How he stayed inside of you was a mystery but the feeling drove you insane as he hooking both your legs over his shoulders, pounding into you fast and hard.

You try to grip the bed underneath you to stabilize yourself before you looked up to see how Law was looking at you. The insatiable devil in front of you looking directly at all the faces you made as you continued to moan his name. The realization of what he was doing, angling every now and then and licking his lips as you twisted about, he loved watching you. You quickly grab the brim of his hat, pulling it over your face to avoid his gaze.

This brought about 2 different things in this intense moment. One was the immense and heavenly smell of Law’s hair, the shampoo he used that drove you crazy while you played with his hair, and the second being Law leaning forward, your legs still hooked over his shoulders as he continued to ruin you. Crying out as he stole your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth while adjusting his hat to be properly on your head. “Don’t hide from me,” He growled out in desire before recapturing your lips.

You move your hands to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss while one hand rakes its way through his hair and the other digging your nails into his back. You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly and you tugged at his hair to release your lips, “Law please. I want you to cum~”

He leans down to leave marks on your neck as you scream out his name, “Are you ready?” He asks one last time into your ears and you can barely reply to him as pleasure is overfilling you. Law quickly following suit, slowing down only after you felt him fill you. The both of you stay there for a second, catching your breaths.

Law’s the first one to move, slowly pulling out and gently putting your legs down, knowing how they were numb at this point. You groan at soreness from being empty but can feel his seed slipping out of you. “This is dangerous,” Law smiles at you from his standing position as you stare at him, still on cloud nine.

“What is?” You mutter out, looking at him from half-lidded eyes.

He leans down close to you, giving a gentle kiss before peppering them down your neck to your collarbone, “You only wearing my hat. It’s absolutely hypnotic.” He breathes into your neck with lust still in his voice.

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #One Piece Smut #Trafalgar Law #Law X Reader

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xiaq · 3 months

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I got another raise today. Praise for my contributions to my team, validation for my hard work, and a clear overview of what my continued progression in my company could look like. I celebrated by taking the afternoon off to nap and read in bed with my husband. I painted some swatches in the space that will soon be my library in the basement of our new home. I talked to my publisher about the process of turning my 3 published books into audio books. And now I'm in the living room, writing and watching my dog attempt to entice pedestrians on the sidewalk to pet him over the front yard fence.

Next month it'll be two years since I left academia.

It was the hardest and the best thing I ever did.

Three years ago, I was having an existential crisis about my career. I was working 60+ hours a week for embarrassingly little pay as lecturer. I loved my job, but I knew that continuing to work in academia wasn't a sustainable option for me. The thought of buying a house some day was laughable. I'd sworn off relationships. I looked at my writing and I thought there was no chance I'd ever publish anything. I was nearly thirty and I felt like I'd wasted the last decade of my life and I was fighting hard against the sunk cost fallacy that whispered I should just stay. Continue as I was. Let no one know I was drowning in the life I'd always said I wanted.

See, people like to say "it gets better" when people are feeling lost or hopeless. But what they don't tell you is that in order for things to get better you often have to do big scary shit that sometimes feels like walking backward. Sometimes you have to tear things down to the studs before you can rebuild. Sometimes the path to "better" looks a lot like "worse" at first.

I was lucky that my family and friends supported my "worse" phase while I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life, interviewing for tech companies and taking fire fighting exams and querying agents/publishers and basically just saying "fuck it, I'll give it a try" to every available opportunity, including dating the guy who is now the love of my life. But "it gets better" requires hard work and bravery and putting yourself out there and bitter disappointment and rallying and leaning on that support system, and trying again.

So, I'm not sure where I'm going with this other than to say, for anyone else who was where I was 3 years back, anyone who feels stuck or hopeless or like they've wasted years of their life on a career or relationship that doesn't love them back: it gets better, but you have to fucking fight for it. So rally your troops. Get your support system in place. Give sunk cost fallacy the finger. And go figure out what will serve you better.

I'm so happy, now. My life is amazing. But it might have been amazing even faster if I'd dropped out of grad school after my first year when I realized that maybe it wasn't what I wanted after all. I wish I'd been brave then. Be brave now.

#mylife #academia #leaving academia #author things #advice #go grab your happiness with both hands #i beg of you

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livwritesstuff · 4 months

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uh so i was feeling like writing something angsty and ever since i wrote this a little bit ago i can’t stop thinking about the idea of what the upside down coming back decades later would look like, however it’s a bummer and not the vibe i want for my steddie!dads verse so consider this an au for an au or whatever idk

It’s a normal, average, mundane, regular Wednesday when Dustin calls.

They don’t talk as much as they used to, but that’s adult life, Steve supposes.

They both have entire lives now, spouses and children and jobs that consume pretty much every waking hour. The near-1000 miles that separates Steve and Eddie in Massachusetts from Dustin in Indiana doesn’t help things either, and seeing as how Dustin had long-since inherited the Hawkins Lab research from Owens when he retired back in the mid-2000s, that won’t be changing any time soon.

Steve is home when Dustin calls, and between counseling clients, so when the phone rings and lights up with his name, Steve picks it up with a grin.

“Hey man, what’s goin’ on!”

Nothing but silence comes through Dustin’s end for a while – such a long time that Steve checks to make sure that the call didn’t drop or his phone didn’t die or something (and neither had happened, so it’s definitely a Dustin thing).

“Dustin?” he asks, “You there?”

Silence, still.

Then –

“Steve.”

Dustin sounds…not normal, and Steve feels the grin slide off his face.

“What?”

“Steve,” he chokes, “It’s…it’s back.”

Steve feels his heart stop for a second, feels it like all the blood in his veins came to an abrupt halt for just a moment.

“The Upside Down,” Dustin continues, “It…all of…it’s back.”

He sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe Steve’s the one sinking beneath the surface, just like he’d done forty years ago when he’d taken Dustin’s place on that boat and got dragged into hell through the depths of Lover’s Lake.

Steve hangs up the phone, his hands shaking.

His knees feel shaky too, like they can’t support his weight anymore despite doing so for nearly sixty years.

They’ve been giving him problems lately – his knees. Nothing too crazy; he can still go on his runs and putter around the yard and all that. It’s just a part of aging, he supposes, and he hadn’t minded aging before – liked it, even. Liked his greying hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes and his achy knees, because there’d been a period of time many years ago when he wasn’t sure he’d make it long enough to experience that inevitability of life.

Right this second though, he hates it, hates the way it makes him realize he’s not as nimble as he used to be, the way his reaction time isn’t the same anymore, because he knows that’s what had gotten him through those horrible years back in the mid-eighties.

He lowers himself down, and as his ass hits the tile floor of the bathroom – his daughters’ bathroom, the one they’ve shared practically their whole lives, the one Moe lost her first tooth in, the one Robbie pierced her own ears in, the one Hazel will be getting ready for prom in soon – Dustin calls him again.Steve doesn’t pick up, too busy kicking himself for not considering sooner the possibility of this sooner, for not having a plan ready to execute to keep their daughters safe the way no adult had done for him.

He can feel an old instinct – the urge to gather his loved ones close – starting to kick in, his mind starting to race as he catalogs the people who make up his small corner of the world.

Hazel is easy – she’s at the high school just down the road. He can have her back home, back within arm’s reach, in a matter of minutes.

Robin and Nancy are next closest, still living in Boston after all these years. Steve would wager a guess that they’ll be hearing from Dustin soon if they haven’t already, and then they’ll probably head Steve and Eddie’s way, and then they’ll all regroup.

They’ll figure out what their next moves are.

Moe and Robbie are trickier with both of them living in New York City and likely unwilling to leave their school and their jobs and their friends without any warning whatsoever. Moe is getting more and more reasonable the older she gets, so Steve may have to start with her and hope that Robbie follows.

Moe is twenty-two now.

Moe is older than both of her dads had been when Eddie had nearly died, when Steve had carried him out of hell and made sure he didn’t. All three of their daughters – even seventeen-year-old Hazel – are older than Steve had been when he got sucked into that horrible mess, and they’re still so damn young.

With two decades of parenting under his belt, he finds it kind of unbelievable that anybody had looked at his sixteen-year-old face and seen anything but a child, nevermind actually asked him to do the things that he’d done.

Dustin calls him two more times before he gives up. Only a moment later, Steve hears Eddie’s phone ring downstairs, and then he hears Eddie’s jovial tone as he answers the call.

He goes quiet real quick after that.

Just as Steve is deciding who to call first – Hazel’s school or Moe – his phone vibrates, two quick buzzes that can only indicate a text from Robin.

He opens it.

did dustin call you?

Steve lets out a heavy breath because, fuck, it’s real.

Yeah, he texts back, then adds –

This fucking sucks

40 years

As Steve watches the bubbles of Robin’s incoming response, he can vaguely hear Eddie’s ascent of the stairs, still on the phone with Dustin.

The bubbles disappear.

“Fuck you, Dustin,” he hears Eddie snarl, “This is on you.” There’s silence for a while, and Eddie seems to pause in the hallway just in front of their bedroom door. Then, “Yeah, I’ll talk to him…I know…later, man. Love you. Be safe.”

Steve looks down at his phone to see that Robin is still typing, only for the bubbles to disappear again a second later.

Finally –

nance is going back

i’m going with her

Steve could throw up.

He almost does, he’s pretty sure, although he’s not positive because he might be having an out of body experience, or maybe he’s dissociating, or maybe it’s a fucking PTSD flashback or something. He doesn’t know.

He should know, or so his handful of psych degrees would suggest, and he probably would know if it was happening to someone else, but then again, he’s always worn blinders when it comes to himself.

That was true about him when all this shit started in 1983, and it’s still true now, almost forty years later.

Forty fucking years.

He doesn’t look up when Eddie comes into the bathroom, joining him on the floor with his back against the bathtub.

“Dustin took offense to you hanging up on him,” he says, and Steve can hear the way he’s forcing humor into his tone.

As if any of this shit is funny.

“Erica and the kids left with Claudia,” Eddie continues, answering a question Steve probably would’ve gotten around to asking Dustin himself if it weren’t for the whole hanging up on him thing, “Erica went kicking and screaming, obviously. I offered up our house, but they’re still deciding where they want to camp out. And everyone has agreed not to say a word to Jim and Joyce.”

Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as they’re both in their eighties and perpetually acting like they’re thirty years younger – at a minimum.

Not that Steve would know anything about that.

Definitely not.

“He said he’s one-hundred percent positive that it’s all still contained to Hawkins, so…” Eddie pauses, “We don’t have to, like, track down the girls or anything. Just make sure they don’t go anywhere near Indiana.”

And that, at least, is an actual relief.

“Robin’s going back,” Steve tells him, because there’s no point waiting to address that particular issue in this whole fucking mess.

The so I’m going too is implied, because that has never needed to be said when it came to Steve and Robin.

The way Eddie’s face changes evades Steve’s ability to describe. It makes him regret saying anything – that’s for fucking sure. Makes him wish he’d just snuck away in the dead of night.

“C’mon man, we’ve picked up a whole fuckin’ litter over the years,” Eddie says, and he’s still forcing humor into his tone, “You can’t leave me to fend off the masses alone – the years have made me weak-willed, I’ll surrender immediately.”

Steve manages a snort, but he still looks down at the floor all the same.

Eddie doesn’t say anything else for a while, but his hand wraps around Steve’s ankle as if there was enough brute strength in the one appendage to keep him rooted to the bathroom floor.

(Strangely enough, it feels like there might be).

“Steve,” Eddie finally says, his voice stiff and hard in a way Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, “We are way too old for this shit – Robin and Nance too.”

Eddie pauses.

“Steve,” he says again, “I know how important Robin is. I know, but our children would be fucking devastated if anything happened to you. Don’t think they wouldn’t – and something would most certainly happen to you.”

“Eddie.”

He’s still avoiding his husband’s eyes.

“Steve,” he pleads, something desperate in his voice, “We talked about this. Remember? Last spring, when we watched that stupid zombie show with Hazel? And there was the episode with the old gay guys? We talked about this. You told me not to let you go if this shit came back.”

Steve makes no response. Ed lets out a heavy breath, looking to the ceiling.

They have this conversation every now and then – one of those conversations that always teeters on the edge of an argument – in which Eddie insists that Steve could be fine if their relationship ended in a way that Eddie himself would not. It’s a conversation that Steve hates, because he hates the idea that Eddie – his husband of twenty years and the love of his whole entire life – could still be thinking so low of himself, that there’s any part of him that doesn’t think Steve would be fucking wrecked by losing him.

Still, it had always been a hypothetical. It had never been real.

Suddenly, Steve feels claustrophobic sitting on the floor of his daughters’ bathroom. He gets to his feet and, as he heads for the door, Eddie scrambles up after him.

Halfway down the hall, Eddie lunges for him and catches his arm, wheeling him back around to face him.

“Steve,” Eddie says one more time.

Then, because he apparently has no words ready to follow with, he stops.

“Steve,” Eddie starts again, “Please. You’re everything. I love the girls and I love our life, but Christ, Steve, you’re my entire world. You changed everything for me. You showed me how life could be worth living, and you keep showing me, and I’m not ready to let go of you yet – not even fucking close. Please don’t let this be the way we leave each other.”

Steve finally lets himself look at Eddie’s face, the face he’d fallen in love with decades ago, the face he’s still in love with decades later. He looks at his big eyes and the hint of grey at his hairline and his crows feet and the scarring that creeps up his neck from underneath the collar of his shirt (it’s a shirt he’s had for ages – since before even Moe was born by the looks of it, but so is the rest of his half of their closet).

And he finds himself nodding.

Eddie’s exhale is all desperate relief as he tugs Steve into his arms and wraps them around his shoulders. Steve immediately reciprocates the hug, pulling him in even closer, surprised to feel tears pin-pricking his eyes

“I love you so much, Steve,” Eddie tells him, gripping the back of his t-shirt so tight he feels the collar pulling taut against his throat, “I don’t say that to you enough.”

“You say it all the time,” Steve replies with a wet laugh.

“Not enough,” he shakes his head, and Steve decides there’s no point in arguing.

A minute goes by.

“Fuck,” Steve half-laughs, half-chokes as he lifts his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “This fucking sucks.”

“I know,” he says.

Again, he reels Steve in, and again, Steve lets him, holding onto his husband like a lifeline, like they’re standing somewhere far more perilous than the carpeted floor of their upstairs hallway.

“I know,” Eddie repeats, “And we’ll…we’ll talk about it but for now, just – can I just hold you for a bit, okay?”

Steve nods again.

“Okay.”

read the extended version on AO3 (i.e. feat. added “flashbacks” so it fits the formatting of the rest of the series)

#eddie calls robbie and moe and tells them to come home – not because they actually need to but because ed knows steve needs them home #i slipped in some sneaky dustin/erica how do we feel about that here on tumblr.com?#steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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crumbledcastle28 · 1 year

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Sebastian Sallow: Atonement

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Sebastian attempts to make up for some of his recent behaviors.

"Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" he asked, eyebrows raised slightly, voice gentle, touch against your cheek even gentler. "Like you're pitying me." His face of kindliness slowly morphed into one of fondness, accompanied by his classic smirk. "Trust me, Y/N," he said as he began leaning into you, stopping your heart. "This is not pity." And he kissed you.

Warnings: characters are AGED UP, bickering, kissing, swearing, mentions of Anne's pain, unlabeled relationship, sort of indefinite ending.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Sebastian Sallow Hogwarts Legacy has consumed my mind, body, and soul for the last month, and this is what has become of it. I hope you enjoy.

My Writing

If you'd like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(picture from pinterest he's so aaaaaaa)

Moonlight twinkled through the burgundy stained-glass windows of Professor Bin's classroom. His deep voice bounced across the stone and into your half-dormant brain.

"I want each and every essay sorted alphabetically," he stated, adjusting the bifocals on his nose as he glided past your desk. "Precisely alphabetically."

You rubbed your temples and began to sort through your stack, too weary to even roll your eyes.

"I expect both of your stacks to be done upon my return," he said, drifting out the classroom, mumbling, "now where has that blasted poltergeist gone with the rest of my tea."

You breathed deeply, doing everything you could to focus on the letters swimming in your head, and not the -

"It seems Peeves enjoys Binns' character as much as we do."

- Slytherin seated directly behind you.

You didn't reply. Absorbed only in the students' names on the top of the parchment from decades upon decades ago.

"Just wait until he realizes Peeves hid it under my desk."

Once again, you acknowledged him with only silence.

A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Why does Binns keep essays from thirty years ago?" he spoke again.

Another three minutes. Five. Twenty. Almost twenty-five before Sebastian finally broke the sound of shuffling papers with his voice.

You were betting it would only take him five.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," he practically whined, the sound of his palms slapping onto the dark wood making you smirk devilishly. "Loosen up."

Your mood immediately soured. You turned around, eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring.

"Loosen up," you responded, "Excuse me if I do not want to talk to the reason I got detention in the first place."

"How is you falling asleep in class my fault?"

"Because of your obsession with that spellbook."

It was true. Sebastian had pleaded with you to stay up with him until the sun began to rise the night previous in the Undercroft, eyes peeling over every word within Salazar's book, researching words he didn't recognize in what had to have been half the restricted section settled in his lap. You helped him as best you could, attempting not to nod off onto his shoulder every few minutes.

He had never even come close to drifting off. Not once.

Until History of Magic, hence your shared detention.

"Don't pretend like I made you stay down there with me," he countered.

That was also true.

He sighed deeply as his gaze moved away from your own, speech now directed more towards himself instead of you.

"We're so close," he nearly whispered. "I can feel it."

You sighed and turned back around, reminding yourself where you were in the alphabet. A few more minutes passed, the silence now feeling more tense than it had ever been before.

"You're still pissed at me," he said, and you rubbed at your temples once again.

"I'm not pissed at you."

He scoffed a laugh. "I find that hard to believe."

You sighed again and spun around, facing him with softness rather than daggers.

"I am pissed," you stated, "I'm pissed that we're here, I'm pissed that we can't figure it out, I'm pissed that Anne's in pain, I'm pissed that you aren't sleeping, I'm pissed that you are resorting to the dark arts..."

His mouth opened in defense, but you halted him, raising your palm in the air.

"...and I'm even more pissed that they are the only thing that is actually getting us somewhere."

He blinked a few times, allowing your words to wash over him, before his eyes began to dart back and forth. His eyes became accusatory, as well as his tone. "Do you really think me daft enough to have no idea what I'm getting myself into? That I would actually use these spells for myself?"

You gripped onto your wooden seat, brain hunting for a way to describe what you had been perturbed by since you first learned of Anne's case.

You exhaled through your nose, intending for your speech to be as gentle as possible, hoping it was enough. "I think that you aren't aware of how comfortable you are with crossing your own boundaries."

He looked at you as though you had slapped him.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he questioned, slowly rising from his seat and leaning his weight onto his desk.

Your eyes fluttered. "You love her, Sebastian. More than anyone in the world. Love like that can cause people to...to act outside of their normal character if it meant that the person that they loved would be okay."

His breathing began to slowly escalate. "And how am I 'acting outside of my normal character?'"

"You're in possession of a book of dark and powerful spells, Sebastian," you stated, standing from your own chair. Only a desk separated you now. "If you found a spell that could cure her - cure her completely - but it required some kind of twisted ultimatum, you would do it. I know you would."

His chocolate eyes met your own, staring deeply into them. "And you wouldn't?"

You swallowed thickly, voice cracking with emotions you thought you had buried a long time ago. "To save someone I love...I would, Sebastian. Of course I would."

"So what the hell is your point?" he questioned, standing up from his lean to begin walking around his desk, robes flowing behind him.

"My point is that what you're doing scares me," you countered. "The fact that spells that require a cost exist scares me. I know you would go any length to save her, and the fact that the length could be harming yourself or other people scares me."

"But you just said you would do the same," he rebutted, now standing directly in front of you, essays long forgotten. His lips pink as well as his cheeks.

"In your shoes yes, I would. But I'm not in your shoes." You stepped closer to him, his scent of green apple, butterscotch, and a hint of clean linen finding its way into your nose, clouding your brain even more than it already was. "I want to help Anne - of course I want to help Anne - but I will not let you do anything you would regret to get there. I know that's what she would want, and that is what I would want you to do for me."

"What about what I want?" he questioned. "I want her healthy, I want her safe, and I want her happy. Besides, do you honestly think I would hurt someone on purpose? Yes, my emotions are very tied into this, I see your point with that, but I am not a bad person."

You sighed, looking into his eyes painted by moon and candlelight. "I know you're not. I wouldn't be helping you if I thought otherwise."

"Then why are we even having this conversation?" His tone became condemnatory once again, his hands going to his hips as he spoke.

For some reason, that's when you finally broke.

"Because I care about you, Sebastian," you said, your voice carrying through the room with a notable ache. "I care about Anne, but I care about you too. Why the hell do you think I went down with you into the Scriptorium, or stayed up with you until the sun rose in the Undercroft, or persuaded Ominis to help us in the first place?"

His face eased, and his eyes widened, mouth slightly ajar. He stepped closer to you, almost as if he was unable to stop himself.

"Yes it's for Anne. But..." you stopped, rubbing your lips together, attempting to recollect yourself. "...but all of the promises I have made to myself that I have broken have been for you. I won't see you spiral into someone you're not. I won't let you."

You couldn't look at him. You couldn't know what his reaction to your words was. You couldn't handle it. Instead, you let your words hang in the air, and a single tear roll down your cheek, blaming your exhaustion for the sudden admission that you hadn't even accepted yourself.

As the tear rolled down your cheek and your mind tore itself apart, cursing itself for beings so vulnerable, a palm slid itself perfectly against your cheek. It was hesitant, as if waiting for you to slap it away. You gasped quietly, quietly enough for only him to hear. Your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, which was a lake of emotion as deep as your own.

He was so close to you that each freckle on his face was visible in the yellowed lighting, as well as his still slightly opened mouth, and a look in his eye that you thought you understood immediately.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked, eyebrows raised slightly, voice gentle, touch against your cheek even gentler.

"Like you're pitying me."

His face of kindliness slowly morphed into one of fondness, accompanied by his classic smirk. "Trust me, Y/N," he said as he began leaning into you, stopping your heart. "This is not pity."

And he kissed you.

At first, you kissed back, letting your body take over for you. Starting soft, merely pecks and short increments of slotting each other's lips over the other's. It wasn't until he separated his lips with his tongue that you came back into consciousness - overwhelmed with the heat of his mouth, the taste of his lips, his robe between your fingers, his chest pressed against your own, the fact that he initiated it.

You couldn't help it. You froze.

"Sebastian," you whispered, eyes widened as if he had just appeared in front of you, and he smiled. His pupils taking over the entirety of his eyes, his lips reddened.

"Shh," he responded, leaning in again. "I know. It's okay."

He kissed you again, and as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you let yourself go.

You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, giving him a small whine in return. He groaned back, quiet enough for only you to hear, as your kisses deepened and deepened. He kissed you like an artist - like he knew exactly what he wanted you to feel, and knew just the strokes to get you there. He backed you up slowly, likely catching onto your weakening knees, and lifted you by your waist. You gripped onto the hood of his robes as he did this, even as he set you delicately onto the desk.

"I've got you," he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you hard before moving his lips to your cheek, then your jawline, and finally to your neck.

"You smell nice," he whispered against your pulse, kissing and licking everywhere his mouth could reach. Your nails dug into the wood and your mouth went dry, itching to cover yourself with him. You settled with bringing your free hand to the hair at the back of his neck, smiling at its silkiness.

You knew it would be.

"I care about you, Y/N" he said, moving to the other side of your neck. He had managed to slide his hand deep enough into your robes to massage the skin over your ribs, making your toes curl.

"I would never hurt you," he whispered, moving back up to your mouth, pressing kisses to your lips in between his words. "No matter what. No matter what."

You hummed against his lips, happier than you had ever been.

He kissed you again, slowly, in such a cherishing way. Like he had all day, all night, and all of forever to do so. His lips chased your own like he needed you to breathe.

Your hands framed his face and combed through his hair, pulling him so close to you he had to place his hands on the desk to stable himself, when an indistinguishable humming echoed up the Grand Staircase.

Neither of you hesitated, pulling away from each other faster than you could blink, rushing back to your seats, and continuing your alphabetizing.

Professor Binns halted his humming as he glided back into the classroom. "Ah, and how are we doing in here?"

"Nearly halfway done, Professor," Sebastian answered, a newfound depth to his voice so obvious you had to bite your tongue.

"Ah, good, right on schedule," Binns responded, eyeing the clock above his desk. "One more hour and then you are both free to go - as long as the sorting is done, of course."

"Yes, Professor," the two of you responded consecutively. Binns nodded, satisfied.

As Binns began to exit the room once more, he paused suddenly, and turned to look back at you.

"Miss Y/L/N?"

"Yes, Professor," you responded, folding your hands into your lap.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked. "Your neck and cheeks are a bit... flushed."

Your heart stopped for the second time that evening.

"Y-yes, sir," you responded quickly. "I am just a bit warm."

You could feel Sebastian holding back a laugh.

"Well, feel free to take off your top robe," Binns said kindly. "It has been quite a warm winter."

"Thank you, Professor," you responded, and removed your robe, draping it over the back of your chair as Binns left the room.

A minute passed. Two. Three. Before Sebastian cut the air with a snort.

"'Just a bit warm.'"

You turned around and smiled so big your cheeks hurt, face so hot it ached, and laughed with him. "Just a bit."

The two of you laughed and wordlessly went back to your work, alphabetizing faster than you ever had in your life, and occasionally turning to look at the other.

Your smiles lit up the room.

Finally, the clock chimed, signaling another hour had passed, and you tucked your final essay into its spot. Sebastian did the same.

"Right on time," he said, and Binns walked in shortly after to dismiss you both before gliding back down the stairs to the faculty tower.

You gathered your robe in your hand, pulling it onto your shoulders, when a hand on your back halted you.

You turned and were met with Sebastian's lips pressed against your own, and his hands framing your face.

The two of you kissed for a few seconds, pulling away and smiling once or twice, before he pressed his forehead against yours, rubbing your noses together.

"I am sorry you got detention," he said, looking into your eyes. "I hope I have atoned for it."

You smiled, and kissed his cheek.

"And I hope you know that...that you can trust me. I don't want to hurt people, or myself, I want Anne cured." He paused, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbones. "But I also want you. I hope I have proven that."

You smiled, and kissed his mouth.

"You have, Sebastian. You have."

Tag list:

@leahkenobi

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #harry potter fanfiction

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fuctacles · 5 months

Text

in love and war

For Spicy Six Winter Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair

“I fucking hate him,” Steve seethes into the phone, sniffling loudly right after.

Robin makes a disgusted noise.

“Not right in my ear! Use a tissue!”

“Don't have any,” he murmurs, using his sleeve instead.

“Need me to make a grocery run for you? Get some chicken soup while I’m at it?” She’s joking, but there’s a hint of “I'll do it if you need it” in her voice.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Just a bit cold.”

“I think you should just tell him he’s going too far-”

“No,” he interrupts her. “I want my revenge. This is war now.”

Robin sighs into the receiver the last breath of hope that her best friend will act like an adult.

“Okay. What’s the plan, Captain?”

He winces.

“Scoops flashbacks, pick a different code name.”

She hums in thought but comes up with an alternative suspiciously fast.

“What's the plan, Batman?”

“What?”

“Because of the bat?”

“That’s stupid.” He searches his brain for the matching nerd trivia. “And that of course, would make you Robin?”

“Precisely!”

He can imagine her grin and it’s hard to be annoyed at that. He scoffs nevertheless. On principle.

“We’re planning revenge on Joker or what?”

“Fine.”

It started like all wars do. With a lover's quarrel. At least that’s how Robin will tell the story at their wedding, but that's over a decade ahead. Now, here, it starts with a snowball.

“Hey!”

Steve swerves around to look for the culprit but while there’s none in sight, he spots a familiar van, standing nearby. His eyes narrow and he reaches down to scoop some snow.

“I know it’s you, Eddie! Show yourself!”

Silence. He keeps his eyes peeled while slowly moving to the side. The snow crunches under his foot and something black shifts near the front of the van. He throws.

The black something yelps.

“Score!” Steve cheers.

But just a second later he’s plowed with a flurry of snow.

“Munson!” he growls, hiding his face and ducking as fast as he can behind his car. There’s no aim or finesse to Eddie’s throws, he’s going for the pure quantity of them, meaning must have been making snowballs since he left the store about an hour ago. Steve has no chance.

The balls are sturdy and precisely formed, he can feel their impact on his back. Can hear them thudding against his car.

“You’ll be paying for the lacquer job!” he yells and the shooting stops. Figuring it’ll give him a second to arm up he starts scooping snow and forming balls. He’s at a disadvantage again, his car is parked in a mostly shoveled parking lot. Unlike Eddie’s, standing on the curb where the snow has been piled up.

Switching to the offensive would be his best move probably.

Or he could get in his car and leave. But where’s the fun in that?

He holds a ball ready and peeks out. A snow projectile wheezes right above his head while he nearly takes Eddie’s hat off.

“Nice aim, Munson!”

“Fuck you, jock!”

Steve cackles in delight and for a moment they exchange more throws like that.

“You chickening out?”

“Never!”

“Out of ammo, huh?”

“You fucking wish!”

He was, though, running out of snow. It was time to attack.

He throws a couple more balls by the front of the car while shuffling to the back.

“That's all you’ve got?!”

He doesn’t answer not to compromise his position. And then, he runs.

Eddie has a ball in hand when he spots him but is too stunned to aim properly. He screams and turns around to flee, but his long legs aren’t going to save him, because Steve isn’t here to chase him.

Instead, he jumps.

They both land in a pile of snow.

“Steve, no! No, no, no!”

“You started it!” he reminds him, shoveling snow down his jacket while he screams.

“Steeeeeeeeeve!”

He thought that was all, but it turned out it was just the beginning.

A furious Henderson walked into the store the next day.

“Eddie is sneezing,” he says like it was Steve’s fault somehow. He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, and?”

“And, if he’s sick he won’t be able to DM and we’re this close to the big bad!”

“Okay, still-”

“And it’s your fault!”

“Yeah, no-”

“Steve.” Dustin pushes himself up on the counter, his feet dangling just to get right into Steve’s face. “You put a finger on my DM and you’ll perish.”

Steve bops him on the forehead. It makes him lose his balance and stumble back on his feet.

“Sure munchkin, I’m quaking in my boots.”

“I’ll make sure mom never makes a chocolate cake for you,” he threatens with a venom no high schooler should be capable of.

“Is this really about yesterday?” Robin peeks out of the horror aisle.

“Yes!”

“Apparently.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” she comments and goes back behind the shelves. Which reminds Steve he’s at work and this is, in fact, ridiculous.

“Listen, I’m not touching Eddie. He started it, first of all, and it got a bit out of hand. It’s not like we’re holding snow fights every day,” he waves his hand dismissively.

Dustin squints at him.

“You better not be.”

“No worries, I’m not a child. I have better stuff to do.”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve frowns at his tone.

“Hey, what is that supposed to-”

But Dustin already turned around, off towards the fantasy section.

“Dustin!”

“You’ve raised him well.”

“Shit!” Steve jumped up when Robin appeared next to him. “Warn a guy, jeez.”

“Yeah, no,” she smiles sweetly at him. “Get back to work, since you’re not a child.”

He huffs.

When they close the store a couple of hours later, he realizes he hadn’t taken the other variable into account. Eddie was a child and had nothing better to do.

Moreso, he found back up.

Turns out Max and Lucas were much better shots than him, moving the scales in their favor.

That is until a fire lit up in Robin's eyes and she started throwing snowballs with an alarming accuracy.

“Where did that come from?” he marvels at her with wide eyes.

“You’re looking at a five-year family champion in snow fights. Twas the only way I could be violent against my gross cousins,” she explains, laser-focused on the ginger strands peeking from behind the van.

He laughs, mostly providing her with ammo while she does the shooting.

“Why are you encouraging this?!”

Robin was the one on the receiving end of Dustin’s wrath this time. Steve watched it with amused anticipation, but all she did was shrug.

“I just got caught in the crossfire. Don’t involve me in this.”

And then she disappeared in the back.

“Steve!”

Steve sighs.

“What did I say?!”

“Not to touch your DM? Which I didn’t. He’s the one who brought reinforcements!”

“You must have done something! Eddie doesn’t just start shit!”

Steve scoffs.

“Well, clearly you don’t know your friend so well, then. Because he sure fucking does and he sure fucking did.”

“He sure fucking didn’t!”

“Language!”

And so, Dustin storms out. A moody teenager shouldn’t be getting to him as much as he is, but he does and Steve’s in a foul mood now.

Robin, bless her heart, stays an extra hour to close up with him again. They both steal glances through the shop’s windows, in search of any anomalies. The coast seems clear.

“Maybe he parked in the back?”

“That wouldn’t make sense.”

They were standing, eyes glued to the glass, keys ready.

“Well, this whole thing doesn’t make sense.”

Robin nods to that and pushes the door.

There is no ambush. They walk briskly to Steve’s car, and no snowballs swish by. The doors close behind them, wrapping them in metallic safety.

“Steve.”

“Right.”

He shakes out of his stupor and starts the ignition. He drives Robin home and nobody follows. Slowly, he relaxes.

“Hope that’s the end of it.” Robin squeezes his shoulder before leaving. “Take a hot bath, call it an early night. You’re tense like it’s another apocalypse.”

He shoots her a glare.

“Don’t joke like that. Jesus Christ, Robin!”

She waves her hand.

“I’m just saying! You’re stressing over nothing!”

She was right, of course. He sighed.

“I guess. It’s all Dustin’s fault, it’s like he knows exactly how to piss me off.”

Robin rolls her eyes and he doesn’t need to hear how stupid it is to get involved in a high-schooler's drama. He knows.

He drives home with the radio turned down, already winding down from a long day at work. There’s some leftover soup in the fridge and he can whip himself a quick grilled cheese. Maybe he’ll open a beer and watch a sitcom before falling asleep.

Damn, he feels old.

Calmness settles over him with the sound of his tires switching from asphalt to the short driveway to his house. He steps out of the car, noticing the new layer of snow under his shoes. Makes a mental note to shovel it the next day. When he turns around he sees a snowman in his front yard and he frowns at it. When did that happen?

“Duck!”

He does so instinctively, monster-fighting reflexes kicking in. A snowball falls apart against his car’s window.

“It’s a trap!”

Someone answers to that with a battle cry and all hell breaks loose.

Hands are pulling him behind the car as he watches the snowman fall apart, revealing a red-nosed Eddie. He’s too stunned to react and lets himself be moved around until he’s crouching next to rosy-cheeked Lucas.

“Changing teams?” He raises eyebrows at him.

“Well, last time I only joined for Max. Now I think Eddie’s going overboard.”

“No shit,” Steve scoffs. They form snowballs while talking.

“He’s got Mike and Will on his side.”

“Will?”

“He goes where Mike goes.” Lucas shrugs.

“Well, we can take them.” Between his and Lucas’ skills, the nerds stood no chance. He sighs. “I just wanted a nice night in. Maybe I could make a break for it…?” He can’t even see his front door from here.

“I could distract them when they run out of ammo,” Lucas offers.

“You’re a godsend.”

Eddie seems to be possessed. The snowman hid his stash of snowballs, which he now throws without thought.

“Show yourself, jocks! There’s a traitor in your midst that I’d want a word with!”

Lucas rolls his eyes before jumping up and hitting Eddie square in the chest.

“Where’s the other two?” he frowns, gathering snow again.

Steve takes a cautious look around just in time to see one of the snow-capped bushes move. He barely ducks from a projectile Mike throws.

This feels like a proper ambush, the two of them hiding behind a car while the other three close in. Eddie has abandoned his snowman post, his probably-last snowballs carried in his arm while he swings with the other one.

“I think we should make a run for it,” Steve whispers, trying to hit Eddie while he zig zags out of the way. Thankfully losing some ammunition in the process.

“We’re sticking to the plan. When I tell you, run to your door, I’ll run to my house. It’s not far from here anyway.”

Steve nods, somehow used to listening to plans made by his younger friends.

They keep throwing, looking for the right opportunity, when something happens on the other front.

“Will!”

Mike stands in shock, mouth gaping, as he turns to his best friend. Will giggles mischievously, taking a step back.

“Mutiny! Get him!”

“Now!”

They start running. Will from Mike, Mike after him. Steve to the door. Eddie drops his ammo to cut his way and Lucas scrambles to attack him but he’s unfazed. Before the boy realizes the snowballs don’t bother him because he’s solely focused on Steve, it’s too late.

Eddie grapples Steve, they flop over a bush and roll in the snow.

“Ha! How the turns have tabled!”

“I think it’s-” but he doesn’t get to finish before he’s hit with an avalanche of snow. “What the fuck, Eddie?!”

“You took one of mine and now you have to pay!” the man on top of him declares, holding him in the snow. His cheeks are red and his nose is running but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“If you get any snot on me I’ll fucking-!”

Lucas runs into them, trying to get Eddie off of him but it only makes him cling to Steve and roll them away in the snow.

“Eddie!!!”

They shovel snow at each other until Lucas manages to get a hold of Eddie and Steve scrambles to make a run to his house.

His shivering hands lock the door and he looks through the window. Eddie seems to have given up his pursuit and is giving Lucas a noogie. When he lets go he’s motioning to his van, probably offering him a ride home. He’s even weirder than Steve thought and he just can’t get a read on the guy.

As they are walking away, Eddie turns and spots Steve in the window. Covered in snow and red-faced, he grins brightly and waves at him.

Steve shows him the finger.

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge #steddie #mine #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ff #st #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #steddie one shot

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f1bordeaux · 10 months

Note

Can you do one with Lando and the quotes, “We were supposed to get married” + “Wake up please I can’t do this without you” + “Everything I do I do in memory of her” thank u:)

What I Desire The Most | ln4

How do you cope? He isn't sure. None of us are really sure. Warnings: Angst, character death Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (y/n never mentioned) Word Count: 1189 Story Style | Poetry Style A/n:I wanted to write something small for this one, something with less dialogue and more story? It's sad, i suppose, so for that I'm sorry. But that's what you wanted, isn't it? ;)

There comes a time at the end of a party, after everyone has drunk their fill, when you know it’s time to leave.

Perhaps death is the same way.

Maybe the crowd has thinned, at least of those you knew. The front door is constantly opening and closing, conversation going with it. Everybody has an equal understanding that this is it, this is the end. There will be no more lingering, no more drinking, no more festivities. Time is up. Slowly, everyone will go, leaving behind an empty house with trash in the corners. Someone’s clothes are floating in the pool. The beer pong table is still set up in the dining room. You never got to finish that chat you started hours ago. But everybody is gone now. It’s time for you to go, too. Things will be left unsaid, stories will go untold. But you had fun. You laughed and cried and danced and sang. It’s time to start over.

Maybe the party is still in full swing when you decide to leave. Nobody has crossed the ‘too drunk’ line yet. Bodies sway to the music, heat is passed on from person to person, the fridge is full, there is somebody naked coming in from the back porch. And although you’re having fun, you realize that you need to go. You’ve had your share, you’ve shown your face, you’ve come for some laughs and now, it is time to depart. Your friends will be upset, wishing that you had stayed just a little longer. Your presence will become nothing more than a photograph strung on the wall. People will speak of you in conversations like so; “Remember her? Remember how amazing she was?” But you will not be there to listen. You’ll be out the door, walking down the street with a smile on your face. You’ll be content. The party was good, you’ll tell yourself. But it’s time to start over. Time to find better.

In this circumstance, the party is in full swing. You’re leaving too soon.

His hand is intertwined with yours, the temperature difference enough to send a chill through his spine. Somewhere in the crash, you lost your bracelet. He still wears his, though. It’s orange and white, the letter beads spelling out your name. You made it for him oh so long ago. At least, it feels like that. All of a sudden, it feels like he’s known you for his whole life. It feels like you two met decades ago, bodies so familiar that you knew they had been together in another life. Your body is cold now, however. It feels different to him. It feels empty.

“We were supposed to get married.” He whispered no louder than the beeping of the machine attached to your paling skin. The engagement ring on your finger has cracked in half. It’s somewhere in a plastic baggie with your phone, wallet, clothes, shoes. It’s somewhere you are not. Nobody really knows where you are to be honest. Maybe your soul is already gone. Maybe it’s not. Lando doesn’t know, either. He hopes you’re still here, listening to him beg. God he hopes you’re still here. “Wake up please. I can’t do this without you.”

Four years, he thinks. Four years was not nearly enough time with you. He needed at least a million more.

He knew that if you left him, leaving him alone on this cruel planet, that life would never be the same. He’d look for your body in each paddock he visited. Although nobody laughed like you, he would still turn around at the slight similarities other girls had in their laughs hoping, praying, that you’d be there. Never again would a race weekend feel complete. Never again would a podium feel right without your lips waiting for a congratulatory kiss. He’d have to move houses, too. There was no way he’d be able to walk in the front door of your Monegasque home and see all of your belongings next to his. Your shoes, your closet full of clothes, your blankets draped on the couch, your makeup on the bathroom counter. No, he would have to move.

He’d never swim in a pool again, too busy thinking about you and him swimming in your pool at late hours of the night. He’d never visit the beach, being reminded too often that the shoreline of Monaco was where you two met. He’d never eat pizza again-it was your favorite food. He’d never watch a Disney movie, that was what Tuesday night date nights were for. Life would become so dull, so colorless.

“I need you, baby. Please.” He spoke to nobody. He was alone in the hospital room. Sadly enough, he already knew it. “I love you.”

The weeks would pass, the days would drag on. There would never come a moment where he got over you. Sure enough, every girl who passed him in the paddock with your hair color caught his attention. He’d smile to himself, amused at how he predicted his own actions. His heart would pound, his hands would shake. It wasn’t you. It would never be you again.

He would be jealous of his fellow drivers who brought their girlfriends to the race. They opted to not speak about love, romance, date nights, their sex life or anything of the sorts in front of him anymore. A few of the boys took him to a music concert in Belgium. They followed it up with a trip to Ibiza. He refused to go to the beach, however. “Let’s just stay in the city.” He’d say. “I’m not a beach guy. I hate the beach.”

The nights were cold and lonely, the days were hot and blank. But, he raced. He pushed the limits of his car and of his body. He shocked everyone with his new aggressive, dominant and unforgiving driving style. “You’re going to kill yourself driving like that, Lando.” His race engineer would tell him.

“I know.” Is all he would respond with.

A tattoo, the first on his tanned skin, would pop up. Roman numerals-how typical, fans would say. But they would stop teasing when they realized the date, hidden on his ribcage, was your birthday.

A trophy-no, a slew of trophies would be dedicated to you; the most impressive one coming in Abu Dhabi two years after your passing. They’d begin to call him a World Champion. He’d continue to call you his reason. “Everything I do,” He’d say on the podium, tears staining his cheeks. He was a World Champion, he had a right to cry. “I do in memory of her.”

And in another life, when your body met his once more, when the heat returned to your skin, when the enjoyment of life returned to his, he would pull you close, saying with a smile; “I’ve been waiting for you.”

To which you would respond, “You’ve come so far, you’ve done so much.”

“You are better than all of that combined. You are what I desire the most. And at last, I finally can say I have it back.”

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hotpinkstars · 3 months

Text

-> everything about her was a lie

synopsis -> you knew ei had her secrets, and you did too. but what you didn't know was that you weren't even with her.

warnings -> angst, some crying, ei might be ooc but i had this idea and i just had to go with it... comfort at the end thoooo! i got inspired for the title by a writing prompt shhhhhh

w/c -> 3.0k

500 years.

it’s been 500 years since you fought side by side with raiden ei and raiden makoto. the cataclysm- the event that not only killed people of society,

but killed archons, too. and one of those killed were ei’s sister.

you were there when she witnessed her sisters dying breath. you were there to hold ei as makoto's heartbeat slowly faded away. and you were there as long as she needed you to be afterwards.

you were her lover for centuries beforehand.

until, she locked herself in the plane of euthymia, to pursue eternity and show no mind to the chaos destroying inazuma. the raging storms, the vision hunt decree, inazuma was a horrific place to live.

you never necessarily understood the reason why ei decided to close off from the real world and enter a state of eternal meditation. you never understood her status, no matter how many times yae miko would explain it to you. she was somebody you did not understand, despite your age and your wisdom.

you understand what people coming and going is. you’ve seen birth, and you’ve seen death, all in a never-ending cycle. out with the old, in with the new. you’ve seen the fashion trends over the past few decades, and you remember nearly everything since the cataclysm.

but all you know is that ever since miko showed ei how to place her consciousness in objects, she created the plane of euthymia. sometimes, you wonder if she’s forgotten about you, and everything you’ve done before way back when. you wonder if she still recalls all of the moments you’ve shared together, all of the hugs and kisses and love. if she can still recall the way sleeping in each others embrace felt.

you wonder if she can even feel.

you wondered a lot of things. that was, until she had come out of her rest when the traveler arrived in inazuma. you’d watched from afar, unamused, but also slightly alarmed by her sudden appearance. it’s been so long… part of you wanted to go down there and see what would happen after the duel occurred. yae miko came to stand next to you, giggling a little bit.

“ah, poor traveler. i wonder if they’ll ever realize just how strong their opponent is,” miko huffed. “when shall mortals learn? or, unless, they aren’t a mortal?”

you nodded, comprehending that possibility. “i doubt they’re mortal. mortals understand who to mess with and who not to mess with. they’re so timid, they won’t even approach a treasure hoarder, nevertheless a god.”

miko patted your back with a book before walking down the cliff the two of you observed at. “i’m heading off now, i expect you’ll join me soon?”

“well, where are you going?” you turn over your shoulder, eyeing the pink haired fox.

“back to the tree. the shrine maidens seemed lost this morning. i need to help them out.”

“yes, i’ll come soon. i’d like to get a closer look on whats going on, and maybe attempt to resalvage things between me and ei. it’s not often she comes out of her conscience,” you end, as a gust of wind blows through your hair and makes the branches of the surrounding trees dance. “if, per say, that’s even her.”

miko stops in her tracks, back still faced to you. “i almost forgot you two were lovers. that was eras ago. many centuries. i’m surprised you still remember.”

“i remember an extent of things. i remember when you were new to the city, lady guuji. ah, so small you were, your ears seemed to flop down on you. go on now, i should start towards the city.”

yae simply chuckled before waving goodbye. you waved back, starting your short trek to the inner city.

it’s been a while since you’ve been here, walking the streets of inazuma. normally, stall owners would load your arms and bags with items of gratitude, but not today. today, shops were closed, and people hid in their homes with fear. you couldn’t blame them, the almighty shogun coming out of hiding was one thing, but for her to be actively attacking a wandering traveler was another. nobody wanted to be her next victim, for you yourself even knew nobody and their mothers would survive even a single hit from her blade.

as you come upon the battlefield, you see random passersby looking for drama, and the traveler lying on the ground with their floating companion frantically tapping at their arm.

you stop, in clear view to the rest of the people surrounding the traveler. the floating human seemed to pick up that you were important, due to the vision hanging off your belt. she squealed at you, motioning for you to come over and help the traveler. before you started to move, you lock eyes with the purple haired woman.

ei.

but was that really ei? she seemed too menacing to be the calm, gentle woman you once knew. you nodded at her, and she nodded back before simply disappearing into thin air.

the next day was a blur. you walked back to the same spot at the same time as yesterday, only to see everything as clear as it was the day after. the streets bustled with liveliness, shop owners attempting to sell people everything and anything they can. you, yourself, had little bottles of dango milk in a bag on one arm and a loaf of fresh baked bread in the other, due to the vendors admiration and kindness. you thanked each one of them with a smile and a little tip, because you felt bad taking their things without them getting any pay.

you put everything in your arms down on a nearby bench before walking towards the statue that stood tall and proud in the middle of the city, sighing as you notice two more visions being put up in the span of the week.

you walked up the ramp and touched the statue, seeing if it would cause any such reaction to bring your past lover back. you had an idea- try to unlodge one of the visions out of the crevasses.

when you did that, a purple glow shone behind you as a blade was put to your back. you could feel the electricity through your clothes, but you simply laugh in amusement and turn around to be met with the one and only raiden shogun.

ei.

or, so you thought.

you never necessarily knew a puppet was created to rule in ei’s place. she was a mirror image, no difference to the real person. just a difference in her personality. did puppets even have personalities?

“long time no see, ei,” you smile, showing your hands, coming up empty. she lowered her blade when she realized you had taken no vision. “how have things been all these centuries?”

she looked at you, taking you to a more secluded area of inazuma. it seemed, as for being a puppet, she had a good sense of who you are. maybe she was coded to be that way. you’ve noticed the aggression she’s showed to miko in the past though, which you thought was kind of wack.

“they’ve certainly been… rather peaceful, being alone in meditation,” she started, putting a light hand on your shoulder.

her touch didn’t feel right, but you brushed it off.

“i’ve missed you. i thought you left, hence why i never came to look for you.”

you giggle, taking the hand off of your shoulder and holding it. “i’ve missed you too. the bed has felt very cold without you beside me all these years. to say i have gotten used to it would be a lie.”

she nodded, removing her hand. “would you like to walk around with me for a little while? i haven’t seen the city in a long time.”

“oh, of course. i could also take you to see yae miko, if you’d like. she still talks about you pretty often.”

and then the two of you went off, hand in hand. but hers felt rather stiff. once again, you brushed it off with a sigh.

“miko, have you noticed anything… different about ei recently? that is, if you’ve seen her,” you turn around from assisting a shrine maiden and looking at the fox, raising an eyebrow.

she shrugs. “all of my encounters with her were when you were with me. i do not recall running into her alone.”

you get back to work, thoroughly explaining to a lost maiden on how the tree works. must be a newbie, you thought, maybe someone miko brought on not too long ago. you knew she had a tendency for finding new maidens, and sending the elder ones off on their own with a hefty sum of mora to allow them to settle.

“she seemed stiff today. she didn’t seem as genuine as she usually was, or at least back all those years ago. have you caught onto that too?”

“yes, i have. i’m as lost as you are, y/n,” miko puts a gentle hand on your cheek. “but you might not be able to go back to the past, you know. theres always that lingering possibility that she’s moved on long ago.”

you shuddered at that thought. the woman you’ve spent decades, centuries, millenniums with, to just move on? you put that to the back of your mind before smiling lightly at miko. she was able to sense your pain after having said that sentence, but she didn’t bother to pry. it wasn’t her spot.

“well… i guess that could happen…” you removed mikos hand, walking to the edge of the cliff, taking a seat. miko followed, sitting down next to you, overlooking the horizon. “i just hope she’s not trying to fake a relationship to make me happy. she remembers me, but she doesn’t remember much about the time we’ve spent together. i’d ask her about our wedding, and she was barely able to recall.”

you unclip the mini keychain stringing down from your vision. “she’s not wearing her matching one, either. she’d normally wear it on her hip.” the keychain was a gorgeous gold with purple feathers weaved through the chains, with a purple fading into lavender feather danging from the bottom of it. you put it close up to your chest before sighing, tears threatening to spill. miko pulled you into an embrace, allowing those tears to spill, and holding you while you mourned.

mourned over the fact that your wife is no longer your wife.

mourned over the woman you once loved.

mourned over a relationship that couldn’t be fixed or brought back together.

mourned over the lies that were about to be revealed.

you awoke to a groggy feeling. it felt like you took too much benadryl- you didn’t even think you had it in you to get up.

you look over to your side, seeing the small bottle left on your nightstand. you pick it up, twirling it around in your hands, before reading the label.

hi, dear y/n, if you’re wondering why you’re so tired, well…

i had decided to give you this medication to help you clear your mind. do you recall anything from last night? or the previous night?

you have your long-term memories, but i allowed myself to let things slip that weren’t for your ears, so i had our wonderful alchemist bring up a potion to confuse you just a little bit. this will wear off by tonight, so do not worry about being this way forever.

sincerely, miko.

you groaned, forcefully putting the bottle back down on your side table before rolling over and forcing yourself to get up. once you get up, you slide on a pair of slippers and go make breakfast. you found it rather hard to recall certain recipes, so you stuck with tamago (eggs) instead.

as you ate, you had a weird flashback to the night before. miko said this was guaranteed to remove all memory from yesterday, but you can still remember the things she said as you cried into her arms.

and one of those statements stuck out.

“you’re currently with the shogun, her puppet, but you’ll figure that out soon.”

your eyes widen as you leave your plate abandoned, finding that bottle and rushing out the door to where you’d normally meet “ei.” once you got there, you spotted miko and the puppet conversing. when you approach, miko looks rather surprised, and the puppet seemed confused.

“explain the bottle, miko,” you pull it out of your pocket, shoving it at her before clearing your throat.

“‘you’re currently with the shogun, her puppet, but you’ll figure that out soon.’”

miko could only laugh before walking closer to you, bringing you into the real ei’s consciousness.

you never realized how isolated ei really was until you stepped foot in this place. it had no smell, and all you could hear was distant thunder. you looked over to the purple haired woman, who was meditating in midair.

“ei, i brought a visitor,” miko walked closer to her, as she picked up her head and looked over to you. ei’s eyes widened, dropping to the ground and hastily walking towards you.

“...y/n.” ei held your face in her hands gently, but this time it felt genuine.

this was the real ei.

“hello, ei,” you nod, slightly shaking free of her grasp before showing her the keychain worn on your vision. “do you still have yours?”

ei pulled it off her waistband, which was matching to yours, but instead of purple feathers they were teal. “i wouldn’t get rid of it for anything. you see, i’ve thought about you long and hard down here, in my state of eternal meditation. to say i’ve missed you would be an understatement.”

“then why would you trick me into being with your puppet?” you questioned her, in which she sighed and turned around to face the shogun.

“i didn’t know if you’d understand what my motives are, so i sent her up to act like she’s me and that everything could be the way it used to be. because i knew that it would make you happy to see me again,” she turned back around. “but i guess… it went the wrong way.”

“that it did, ei. i knew it wasn’t you, but i didn’t want to believe it. so i stuck with the shogun incase, with just that little chance that it could’ve been you, but not yet warmed up to the new inazuma or me quite yet.”

ei nodded, gripping the keychain just a little bit harder.

“do you think you could forgive me for abandoning you the way i did? i know we were married, and i still remember everything about our relationship, and i still…” ei trailed off, looking up at the purple clouds above. “i still love you, just like i used to.”

you sighed, looking down at her hand, gripping the chain even harder now. “i might be able to. but only if you come out of this place every once in a while to see me. you do not have to be with me the way we used to, but i’d like to see you every so often.” you then turn to miko. “now, you. you know i’m smarter than that to fall for a lie. why would you lie?”

miko laughed once more, setting the bottle into the shoguns arms. “well, i wanted to see how long it would take for you to snap and get over it. really, it was an experiment on if you still held loyalty to the woman you once loved.”

it all clicked in your mind now. you had no idea if ei was in on this, but it started to make sense. it felt cruel but refreshing at the same time. you chuckled, turning away from everyone and taking a few steps forward, watching as lightning struck all around the red piece of land you’re on. how lonely, you thought.

“this is a very isolated place, ei. i couldn’t even imagine how you can enjoy something such as this,” you watch as more lightning strikes, making a fierce sound rumble in the distance. you look down at your vision, then back at the horizon. “and you’ve been here for the past few centuries. i applaud your dedication.”

she nods, laughing. “eternity to me is what the world is. i will fight for eternity forever.”

“i know. that’s how it’s always been,” you turn around. “would you come out of here for a day? i would love to show you inazuma city, and how much it had changed in these years.”

ei nodded slowly, before bringing herself and all the rest of you out of the plane of euthymia.

she seemed to enjoy the outside world a lot more than you’d thought she would.

“y/n…” she smiled, looking around the city. “this has changed very drastically from the last time i’ve walked these roads with you. the fashion trends have changed very much, too.”

you and miko share a look before she starts to speak. “of course it’s changed. you haven’t seen this place in decades, ei.”

you nod with mikos statement, a sigh leaving ei’s mouth before she gripped your hand tight, a silent vow to never let you down in the way she had again.

and just like that, months fly by. occasionally, she’ll be in her plane. but mostly, she’ll be in the present world with you, in your luxurious abode in the inner city, continuing your marriage happily.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #raiden #shogun #raiden shogun #ei #ei x reader #raiden x reader #raiden shogun x reader #shogun x reader

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wintaerbaer · 7 months

Text

things we don't say: part 5 TEASER (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 721 (for the teaser; full chapter is expected to be 8-10k)

chapter warnings: weddings!, feelings, seventeen is here now because i fell into a rabbit hole and needed fill-ins, jimin kinda ruins everything, jk is relatively well-behaved, kissing?!

a/n: given that it's been the craziest time of year for work (and i may be focused on a jk oneshot rn), i figured i'd throw out a teaser since it's taking me longer to write! i'm heading into my job's off-season soon though, so i'll have more time to write and will aim to have this next part out by end-of-year :)

PART 4 // SERIES MASTERLIST

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out of their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

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blue--ingenue · 11 months

Text

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 4

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: sorry for the little cliffhanger/teaser a few days ago hehe. i've been really excited to post this chapter and wanted to give you a sneak peek. anyway, seb is a mess, but i promise he gets better at expressing his feelings :) (i forgot to mention in previous parts, but all characters in this fic are aged 18+)

Sebastian cursed as his shoe caught on a loose floor tile, nearly stumbling down the short flight of steps leading to the Potions classroom. He’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything else had gone downhill from there. He’d arrived at morning quidditch practice to an onslaught of rain. Despite the wind and near-torrential downpour, Imelda had insisted they run drills until their allotted hour on the pitch was up. It was their final practice before their match against Gryffindor. Not only was it one of the most anticipated matches of the season, but Madam Kogawa had also chosen this particular match to evaluate the two houses’ players for a chance to represent the school at the Championships. Sebastian barely had time to cast a half-arsed drying charm over his robes before realizing Potions had started ten minutes ago. Now he was barreling through the halls, irritated and hoping that his tardiness wouldn’t affect his partner’s grade as well as his own.

Remembering that his best friend stood just beyond the door in front of him, he paused to run a hand through his unruly curls and adjust his tie. He hadn’t abandoned all decorum in his tardiness, thank you very much. For some reason she was the only one he cared to check his appearance for. The whole world could think him a rumpled, muddy mess, but as long as he maintained his dashing charm in front of her, he was content. This was, of course, all due to the fact that she was his best chum. That was the only reason he could think of. She was a fixture in his life, occupying more space in his heart and his head than he had the words to describe. So it naturally followed that her opinion would matter above the rest. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Just last week he’d spent the galleons he’d been saving for some new quidditch gloves on a lovely necklace for her. He told her he’d come across it just as he was leaving Honeydukes. In truth, he’d spotted it at Gladrags a week before the start of term and knew it would look perfect on her. He’d only visited the sweetshop after he had acquired the necklace. He decided to downplay his enthusiasm for her gift, just in case she got the wrong idea.

Sebastian was no fool to the nuances of courtship. Ominis had approached him over the summer to ask him for his blessing about courting Anne. Solomon, who had always had a soft spot for the Gaunt boy, and encouraged his endeavor with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Both boys knew that Anne was her own woman and that asking for his blessing was a mere formality, but Ominis insisted on speaking to both of her remaining family members just in case. He knew what it was like to lose family and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift between any of the Sallows.

Sebastian’s feelings toward his Gryffindor weren’t similar in the least. He’d seen witches and wizards fawning over one another as they walked arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade. He knew how ridiculous his classmates would act when the object of their affections glanced their way. Sebastian Sallow had never acted that way with her a day in his life. Sure, her presence left him invariably flustered, but that was simply because they were the closest of friends. He didn’t know how to put a name to the feelings she roused within him, but calling it something as trivial as “infatuation” seemed nothing less than insulting. No, she was far too extraordinary for that.

He was looking forward to putting this mess of a morning behind him. Spending time with her never failed to lift his spirits - which is why it hurt twice as hard when he stepped into the classroom and saw a familiar ginger nuisance standing in his spot. He was rooted to the spot, incredulous and fuming. He’d never taken issue with Weasley in any year previous, but since the start of term he seemed to be in the one place that was rightfully Sebastian’s - by his Gryffindor’s side.

“Ah, Mr. Sallow. Good of you to finally join us,” Professor Sharp drawled from the front of the classroom. “If you’d like to avoid losing Slytherin any house points for today I’d recommend finding a seat. There seems to be an open stool next to Mr. Clopton.”

Begrudgingly Sebastian stalked over to Everett’s workbench and dropped his books onto the table with far more force than necessary. From across the room his Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic smile. It was like the first rays of sun had disintegrated the clouds from this morning’s offending storm. Looking around, she hastily scribbled a note onto a spare bit of parchment before waving her wand over it. With a soft pop the note appeared next to him. He smiled and snatched it from the table, unfurling it with speed.

Sorry, Garreth volunteered to take your place when Sharp noticed you hadn’t yet arrived. Catch you after class?

He let the note fall to the table and plastered on a nonchalant smile. She seemed relieved, and for some reason that only seemed to irritate him further. Did being his partner mean so little to her that she was already content to continue on? To add insult to injury he was now forced to spend the next hour with Clopton. He was an alright bloke, but his obsession with quidditch meant that he was one of Sebastian’s biggest fans. He felt flattered, truly, but Everett’s presence began grating on his nerves once he started butting into the rare free time he spent with his Gryffindor. Seeking out a distraction from the hornet’s nest of feelings trapped within his head he turned to Everett to ask how far along they were in the potion recipe.

The Ravenclaw stood stock-still, as though he couldn’t believe Sebastian was actually talking to him after nearly a month of dismissed conversations.

“Everett?” he prompted, exhaustion leeching the annoyance from his tone. He seemed to come to his senses at last and fumbled for the open potion book propped up against their cauldron.

“Just here,” he replied, pointing to the second step. “I’ve already gathered the necessary ingredients, so we can just carry on with the chopping.” Sebastian thought he sounded far too enthusiastic for their first class of the day, but obliged. He’d just finished crushing the last bit of moonstone when Everett piped up. Unsurprisingly, and much to his dismay, he began prodding Sebastian about his broom skills. Sebastian gave a few obliging nods as he tuned out the boy’s rambling, intent on finishing their brew as quickly as he could.

“The maneuvers you pull during practice are incredible! And on a school-issued broom, no less!” He carried on. Haughtily he added, “Of course, my broom is one of the fastest on the market. Begged my parents for one of those models for a year. A newer model was close to being released by the time they finally caved.”

Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum and focussed on listening in on the couple occupying his usual station. His hand stilled over the cutting board. Couple? He wondered. When had that word popped into his head? She and Weasley were hardly a couple. She was his best friend, and he was sure that he’d be the first one to know if she were even remotely interested in courting someone. To prove it, he looked up from his slicing to affirm their mutual distaste.

Only it didn’t look like distaste at all. She stood as she always did, elbows on the stained wood as she ran down the ingredient list with the tip of her wand. Weasley towered over her, reading over her shoulder with one arm supporting his weight atop the table. His attention caught on the boy’s face. He was smiling. It was soft and fond and trained entirely on her. Sebastian seethed. He didn’t know why this small act of affection lit a fire in his veins, but it just felt innately wrong, like stretching a muscle just a tad further than it was meant to bend. She was none the wiser as his larger hand brushed against hers in his attempt to turn the page. She turned her head then, realizing for the first time how close they were and blushed. This was ludicrous. Any closer and he’d practically have her pressed against the table. And what if he leaned down? What if he held her impossibly closer and pressed his lips against hers? Would she kiss him back? Sebastian wondered if she’d tug on his tie, pull him down and tangle a fist in his curls.

This was ridiculous. Unbelievable. The whole bloody world was spinning off its axis and Sebastian was the only one who seemed to notice. If anyone should be kissing her, it should be him. He was supposed to be the only one to-

Oh.

Oh, dear.

The world was no longer spinning off its axis. In fact, it wasn’t spinning at all. Everything and everyone was frozen and Sebastian was left to feel all these feelings in painful crystal clarity. He’d read about romance in the muggle novellas Anne had teased him for buying, but on paper everything was straightforward. The hero knew he loved the girl, and the girl loved him right back. In all the books he’d read the couples were inseparable. There was never a question of whether they loved each other, not one true doubt to be found. From Prologue to Epilogue he felt safe knowing that the couple would ultimately get their ‘happily ever after.’ Things were different once the books were back on their shelves. Happy endings were rare, if they even existed at all. His parents were kindred spirits, their love for one another so powerful that it flowed into every nook and cranny of their home. His mother used to tuck them in and say that she loved their father so much, the world decided they needed two children to carry it all. Those happy honeyed years were tucked safely away in his mind, where the memories of his parents’ demise and the rest of reality couldn’t touch them.

Love was soft and sweet, and the world was a sharp and insatiable thing. The years following their move to Feldcroft were a special type of purgatory. The memories of his beloved childhood swirled cruelly in his mind’s eye each night, just vivid enough to remember yet just out of reach. A shard of fear pierced his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose her like that. He didn’t think he could stand getting so close to another person only to have them inevitably ripped away. Sebastian Sallow yearned for fairy tale endings, but he didn’t know if he believed in them anymore.

A high-pitched hissing tore his focus away from his epiphany and the world spun on as if he hadn’t just realized something beautiful and horrible and terrifying. It intensified and he realized the noise was coming from Weasley’s cauldron. He could only watch on as it erupted, sending metal shards and acidic splatters every which way. Garreth tackled his Gryffindor to the floor, shielding her with his own body while the failed potion smoked and ate through his robes. She frantically tore the tattered robe from his body before it could make contact with the rest of him and the two froze. Although he couldn’t hear them over the chaos the rest of the room had erupted into, he knew she was asking if he was alright. He nodded and Sebastian saw red as he brushed her hair back to look at a nasty cut on her forehead. Garreth’s discarded robe smoked behind him, his shirt torn in a few places, and gently held her face in his hands as he checked for more cuts. He only barely registered Sharp dismissing the class for the day before he was grabbing his things and slipping out of the classroom.

Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @tired-meg, @somethingiswrongwithme

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #angst #fluff #pining

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jeridandridge · 11 months

Note

Hello!

If your requests are still open I would like to request a Mel x reader when they went to college together but after Mel came back to Philly and the reader to California. They never lost touch but now the reader is coming to work in Philly and Mel revisits old feelings. Can you make it with a happy ending? Thank you!

This is long, I hope you dig it as much as I had fun writing it. 🩷

All I Wanted

youtube

It started decades ago in a dorm room. You and Melissa were inseparable and were part of a friend group dubbed the ‘brat pack.’ All these years later you still had those same feelings for the red head.

“I dunno, Red. He was kinda boring.” You hum from your spot on the floor. You went on a date earlier in the night, and of course it didn’t go well. A date can’t go well when you’re in love with someone else.

“Maybe the next one will be it.” She gives you a half hearted smile. She felt relief hearing it hadn’t gone well, a burning feeling in her stomach arose whenever you had a date. She knows she’s selfish. She’s with Joe after all. She shouldn’t have these feelings.

“What about you?” You question looking up from the magazine you were thoughtlessly flipping through. “Is Joe the one?”

Melissa bites her lip not meeting your eyes right away. She wanted to wait until after graduation. She wanted just a little bit more time with you.

“He asked me to marry him.”

You’re certain the pain in your chest is your heart breaking. Never the less, you school your features and plaster the best fake smile on your face.

“I’m happy for you, Mel.”

Today you walk around your studio in California instructing movers where to put things as you hold your phone to your ear.

“Hey, Red. Miss me?” You grin into the phone when Melissa answers.

“Where the hell you been? I’ve called and texted you a thousand times. You’re lucky I didn’t get on a plane and come out there.” Melissa smiles into the phone.

She loved the almost daily phone calls you two shared, never missing a day no matter what time zone you were in or what was going on in your lives.

“That’s why I’m calling you.” You laugh. “I’m moving back to Philly.”

Melissa lights up nearly dropping the bottle of wine she’s holding. “You better not be playing with me, y/n.” She scolds and she leans against the kitchen counter.

“I’m serious. I’m the new director of the Philadelphia museum of art. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while, Red.”

Melissa’s eyes are watering at the knowledge of you coming back. She’d missed you the last four years that you were in California and now, she feels like she’s getting a second chance with you.

A week later you’re grinning like an idiot when you see Melissa pull up to the curb to pick you up. She immediately gets out of the truck running over and barreling into you.

Your entire body relaxes when your arms wrap around her and the scent of her perfume hits your nose.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She squeezes you.

“You can’t get rid of me for too long, Mel.” You beam rubbing her back before you pull away.

With your bags loaded up you can’t take your eyes off of her as you two talk, catching up about the last few days.

“You got a place already or what? You’re coming back to my house anyway.” She smiles not leaving you room to argue.

“I have an apartment downtown. Right down the street from the Eagles Stadium.” You grin.

When you get to Melissa’s you look at the house realizing joe lived here before their divorce. You never came back to Philly after they were married. Your friendship with Melissa had been full of phone calls and post cards sent from wherever you were working at the time, and her coming to visit you.

“Dang, Schmmenti. This is nice.” You smile as you wheel your bags in.

“Not bad for a teachers salary, eh?” She teases.

“Hey, you know I was about two seconds away from being a teacher too.” You remind her.

Melissa can’t help but shake her head with a smile. After all this time you were standing in her house, your bags by the door.

“Cmon, make yourself at home, I have a fresh bottle of wine for us.”

Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket up you follow her into the kitchen, smiling sadly when you see a photo of you two from graduation day on her wall. The smile hadn’t really reached your eyes even though Melissa was clinging to you. You knew by then that she was marrying joe and you would be going to Portland for a job.

“Hey, we have to drink before we go down memory lane.” She smiles handing you a glass.

You laugh happily taking it.

“I was admiring the layout. This place is very you.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a while to make it my own.” She nods before she takes your hand to drag you to the couch. When you two plop down you two are so close you rest your hand on her thigh as you sip your wine.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I couldn’t take another trip around all those hippies.”

You laugh gently squeezing her thigh. “Everyone in Californias a hippie?”

“The ones you worked around? Duh.”

You’ve missed this so much. Over the phone it’s just not the same. You were ready to settle into life in Philly again.

Almost a week later you’ve gotten into the swing of things again, happy to be in familiar territory. You fall into work easily making friends with your new colleagues and finding the work fascinating. On top of all of this, you go to Melissa’s almost every night for dinner and tonight would be no different except you’re meeting Melissa’s friend Barb.

When you get to Melissa’s you walk upto the door stopping in your tracks when you hear the two women through the screen door.

“Melissa it’s been long enough, don’t you think you deserve a chance at being happy? I haven’t even met the woman and I know she loves you more than joe ever did.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before you knock on the screen door and go in. When you do Melissa shoots up from the couch with a smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hey, Red.” You beam holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought the good stuff.” You joke, “You must be Barbara, it’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, y/n. I feel like I know you already from what Melissa’s told me about you.”

“Oh no,” you laugh. “I hope she hasn’t talked your ear off. I’m pretty boring.”

Melissa scoffs as she takes the wine from you. “You’re not boring. Come sit down, I’ll get the food out.”

“Let me help you,” you follow her resting your hand on the small of her back.

Dinner goes just as amazing as you thought it would, although thanks to some of Barbara’s comments you have questions.

“I swear I’ve gained five pounds this week just from all the home cooked meals.” You laugh before taking another bite of Melissa’s freshly made garlic bread.

“You need it, all that kale and green juice crap out there.” She rolls her eyes. You can’t help but laugh and smile at her adoringly.

When the night wraps up, you start on the dishes and miss the look Barb gives her friend before she leaves.

“You’re Barb approved.” Melissa grins coming up beside you.

“I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to meet her for years.” You beam. “I was happy knowing you had someone here for you while I couldn’t be.” You try to make it sound as casual as possible, but the guilt you’ve felt all these years is bubbling to the surface. You want her to admit to what you heard.

“But you were there for me, hon. I had the phone bills to prove it.” She smiles reaching over to take the plate from your hands.

“I was cleaning that.” You chuckle.

“Leave it, c’mere. I wanna talk to you.”

She’s turned around and over by the couch before you can say anything. As you dry your hands you take a deep breath. Everything would be fine you told yourself.

Sitting down you curl your legs under you and eye your friend. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, ya know?” She hums playing with one of the gold rings on her finger.

“Uh oh.” You tease wanting her to relax a bit.

“Shut up.” She laughs. You reach over entangling your fingers together when she meets your eyes. God she was beautiful.

“Do you remember when I was angry at you for not coming to my wedding?”

The question hits you like a brick. Your mind snaps back to that time over twenty years ago. Instead of going back to the Philadelphia area you hopped on a plane to London, drinking and fucking your feelings for the red head away.

“I do.” It comes out hoarse and almost scared.

You’d never seen Melissa so nervous before in your entire friendship.

“I wanted you there to talk me outta doing it.” She admits with a soft look.

“Does this admission have to do with what Barbara said before I came in?”

“You heard that?” She nods like she knew. You smile squeezing her hand.

“I’d like to make you happy, Mel. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since we were in that shoe box of a room. I couldn’t watch you marry Joe. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t have been able to interrupt it either. If I walked in there I would’ve been brought out in handcuffs.”

Melissa’s eyes are glossed over, a tear slides down her cheek.

“All I wanted was you.”

You can’t take the sight of her crying. Scooting closer you practically pull her onto your lap and brush the tear away with your thumb.

“You’ve always had me, Red. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Melissa doesn’t waste any more time. Cupping your cheeks she leans in meeting your lips in a kiss she’s wanted to share for a long time.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Lisa Ann Walter #lgbt fiction #wlw #college years

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television-overload · 2 months

Text

neither snow nor rain

(a short little X-Files fanfic)

Almost posted a headcanon that came to me this morning, then realized it worked better as a fic. So here it is:

Read on AO3

"What's this?"

"What?" Georgie asks, looking up at her friend.

"In the mail, check it out."

Quinn tosses a stack of glossy paper through the air, nearly knocking the gadget she's building off her worktable. It lands in a heap on top of her carefully organized wiring, and she shoots him an unappreciative look, to which he responds with a shrug.

"I thought that was out of publication," he says, nodding at the item he had so carelessly thrown.

She furrows her brows, adjusting her glasses before lifting it for examination.

As she scans over the words, her eyes widen, and she looks back at Quinn, now understanding his surprise at finding this in their mailbox.

"It's been years!" she says, flipping open the front cover of the magazine eagerly. It looks a little different, but the title on the front is unmistakable.

Quinn circles the table to look at it over her shoulder, obviously intrigued that this defunct publication had resurfaced out of nowhere.

"Wait," he says, reaching over her shoulder to turn back to the front cover. "That's different, right?"

His finger points to the title, and she squints at it, trying to picture the old magazines they'd stopped receiving about four or five years ago.

He's right to be suspicious. They don't give out their mailing address to just anybody, but this magazine had been pivotal in shaping their view of the world.

In fact, it was sort of how they met and became friends, probably more than a decade ago, at this point. It's not like it was a popular publication, like Time or People or National Geographic. When you see someone out and about with the same fringe interests as you, you can't help but gravitate toward them.

"The Lone Gunman," she reads aloud. "Wait, yeah, I think you're right. Wasn't it the Lone Gunmen?"

He nods.

"I wonder what happened. Maybe They got to them."

Georgie rolls her eyes. "Or they could have just parted ways. It has been almost five years, you know. Not everything has to be so dramatic."

"The editors of a conspiracy magazine?" he says, a disbelieving look in his eye.

"You never know," Georgie says. She'd always been the more rational one between the two of them. But, he has a point.

She opens to the front page again, and notes a number of differences between this and the old design from the late 90s.

The table of contents is there, just like it had always been. But instead of having a number of contributors listed (aliases, of course), each article appears to have been written by the same author.

F. M. Luder.

Well, hey, that's a name they recognize.

So, this is legit, after all.

The page is pretty sparse, other than that, but her eyes are drawn to a note at the bottom of the page, small and unassuming.

For the Gunmen. Miss you, guys.

Signed, your friend

"Man," Quinn says, letting out a breath. "See? What did I tell you?"

She's still not sure she's completely convinced, but she nods anyway, leafing through the remaining pages of the magazine.

"I wonder if I could send in that article I've been writing on the military use of extraterrestrial technology," Georgie says thoughtfully. "You think they still have that P.O. box for submissions?"

"Can't hurt to try," he shrugs.

She smiles, enjoying the feel of the freshly printed magazine in her hands.

"Now I just need to think of a good pen-name."

-.-.-

The house is still sparse, all scratched wood floors and peeling wallpaper behind its creaky doors. But it's beginning to feel like home, he thinks. Stacks of magazines line the walls where furniture should probably be, but they'll get around to that eventually.

For now, he's just enjoying not having to pack up and move every few days while constantly looking over his shoulder.

There's a small desk and a computer in the study, but that's about it. It's enough to keep him occupied while Scully is away. The place feels too empty when she's gone, but he knows it's a good thing. She needs to be around people, and now with her new job at the hospital, they've got a reliable source of income to work with, too.

His work is... more of a hobby, but he thinks it could bring in a little extra cash if people even bother with magazines anymore. A lot has changed since he was last an active member of civilization, so he really doesn't know.

The sound of gravel crunching on the driveway breaks the heavy silence that he's grown used to, and he decides to call it a day. The front room seems to light up with warm sunlight when she walks in, balancing a bag of groceries on her hip and a stack of papers in her hand. Her juggling act makes it difficult to pull the keys out of the front door lock, but she manages.

"Hi, Mulder," she says cheerily. She flicks on a lamp as she passes, and he watches her with the characteristic look of awe on his face that he always has when he's around her.

"I missed you," he says truthfully, entering her space to grab the groceries from her. He presses a kiss to her lips while he's at it, never one to pass up the opportunity.

Her free hand lands on his chest, its weight a familiar comfort to him, but he can feel the prickly edges of whatever else she's carrying against his stomach.

"What'cha got there?" he asks, glancing down at the papers. Envelopes, he realizes.

A playful smirk tugs at her lips, and she pulls away from him. Brandishing the envelopes in front of him like an offering, she watches intently for his reaction.

"It seems you have fan mail, Mr. Luder," she says, pride beaming from her face despite the raised eyebrow she levels on him.

His eyes widen, and he looks down again in surprise at the substantial stack of letters she carries.

"Really?" he asks, his voice cracking a little against his wishes.

She nods, and he thinks he detects a hint of tears gathering in her eyes, too.

"I stopped by the old P.O. box on my way home," she says. "I had a hunch."

"You?" he says teasingly, unable to restrain himself.

"I only opened one, but it seems your readers are thrilled to have you back, and they send their best wishes."

He chokes back an unexpected knot of emotion and feels a breathy laugh escape him.

"I can't believe it," he says, overwhelmed by the response to his attempt to keep his friends' memory alive.

She must find his disbelief amusing, because he recognizes her smile as one he's seen more times than he can count. "You're surprised?" she asks.

"Well... yeah." To put it mildly.

Scully shakes her head and sets her bag down on the threadbare couch, and he follows.

"I've read your case reports, Mulder. I think—and Skinner would probably agree with me here—you've found your calling."

He stands in stunned silence, for the first time in a while feeling that spark of passion reignite in his chest.

"Now if only we could get them to send me money," he jokes.

Scully tilts her head, flipping through the stack of letters to find the one she'd opened.

"They have," she says casually, as she withdraws a hundred dollar bill with all the air of a magician performing a trick.

His eyes widen comically again.

"You think there's more?" he asks, grabbing a few envelopes from her hands.

"Some of these are pretty thick, Mulder," she says, a knowing glint in her eye.

The tension in his shoulders evaporates, and he tosses the letters aside to pull her into his embrace. Any worry that he'd have nothing to do, no way to contribute to this life that he's all but trapped her in, goes away in an instant. Relief overtakes him, and Scully holds him tight around the middle, smiling proudly over his shoulder.

"They'd be so happy that you're continuing their work," she says, her voice unable to muster anything more than a whisper.

Words fail him, so he presses a kiss to her forehead instead, his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"I hope so," he says, glancing heavanward as if he might see the three of them flying around like little cherubs on his water-stained ceiling.

"I hope so."

-.-.-

Mr. Luder,

I'm terribly sorry for your loss. My friend and I are longtime subscribers of The Lone Gunmen, and we feared the worst when they stopped publishing years ago.

Receiving the copy you sent in the mail was a wonderful surprise. I'm sure we will be writing again soon to pick your brain on some of the details in your articles (is there really confirmation of a flukeworm-human hybrid in New Jersey?).

I didn't see a form to renew our subscription, but if you include it in your next edition (I do hope you'll continue!), we will happily send along payment with it, as securely as possible.

I hope this letter reaches you. Thank you for carrying on with this important work. We (your subscribers) truly appreciate it!

Sincerely,

Queen George (and Sir Quincy)

(P.S. I've attached a draft of an article I've been working on. You're welcome to include it in a future publication, if it meets your standards of approval. I'd happily welcome feedback, as well! If I recall, you're the expert on this particular subject.)

-.-.-

Tag list ♡: @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson

#txf #x files #msr #the lone gunmen #tlg #msr fanfic #xf fanfic #pre-iwtb #post series #the unremarkable house #no sorry this is not the msr adoption fic... YET #this was going to be a simple headcanon post but it turned into a fic #classic #my fanfiction

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explicit-tae · 2 years

Text

welcome to my blog - my name's quae. this is my main blog. trivia-yandere is my yandere blog. my ao3 is explicit_tae warning: majority - if not all -of my writings will be considered nsfw and suitable for those 18+. they will (sometimes) contain graphic smut scenes, yandere/dark moments, etc. please do not translate, repost or use any of my writing without permission.

Ungodly Hour - Alternate Universe - Mommy Issues - Halloween - Valentine's Day - Cruel Intentions - Trivia-Yandere

Plaything: Your first year in South Korea was amazing. You got to live out your dream of being an English teacher at a private Academy. You’ve attended concerts from your favorite musicians and even acquainted yourself with new friends. But no good life last forever and now you find yourself jobless, homeless and living out of cheap motels. You’ve reached your last resort- becoming an Idol playmate. W.I.P

The Feeling of Being Stared At: You and your friends are targets of a masked killer who terrorizes each of you before they make their move on massacring. Your instincts tell you that the call is coming from inside the home, and maybe the killer is closer than you think. W.I.P

Insatiable Part 1: You noticed your Junior Year of High School that Kim Taehyung, Senior, didn’t like you. It didn’t get too far, however, just verbal teasing and taunts. But, now that you were a sophomore in University he decided he had enough. Maybe he was a changed man - or maybe because he seen that tight skirt you wore with those lace panties peaking through. completed

Insatiable Part 2: One thing for sure, Taehyung compelled you. You couldn't not think about him after your night in the woods. However, you also couldn't keep your mind off of your best friend, Jungkook, who gives you every reason not to. completed

Starring Role: Jungkook regrets introducing Jimin to your content. You're his favorite camgirl (and the only one he watches rigorously) and he would've never thought he would be head-to-head with his best friend. The contest? Win a night with you. completed

Public Enemy (Part 6/7): You’re a young doctor - an intern fresh out of medical school - and begin your career at the best Hospital in South Korea. You would’ve been swimming in student loan debt if it wasn’t for your boyfriend of 1 year, Shin, paying it off in full. You were shocked at the action and questioned where such money came from. You got you answer when your boyfriend himself comes rushing through the hospital doors with a bullet through him. completed

Public Enemy (Part 7 of 7): Your elder sister was not one to disappear. After quitting her job, she fought and worked hard for years in, you knew something was wrong - even when everyone insisted there wasn’t foul play involved. So, you go on your own investigation to find the truth of what just happened to your elder sister. completed

Contagious: An alternate world in which at the age of 25, your true soulmate is revealed. Some choose to defy the soulmate tie - but you refuse; especially when it’s revealed to be your sister's boyfriend. completed

Carnal Desire: The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know. One | Two | Three

Public Enemy (Part 5/7): You wonder where Hoseok goes off to when his work phone calls at all times of the day and night. It’s a bother - especially when the two of you are on a date. You suspect he’s cheating on you and decide one night to follow him and witness just where he scurries of to. completed

Bound: Jimin has tried everything in his power for you - one of his closest friends - to get laid. He realizes that your kinks don't match with just any man besides one; another friend of his - Jung Hoseok. You've met Hoseok many times and don't think your masochism can be satiated by someone as bright and sunny as him. completed

Moral Dilemma: Your morality is tested at a monthly family dinner that gets interrupted by two masked men. completed

Love You (Just A Little Too Much): You're brought down memory lane and come face to face with someone you've completely forgotten about. completed

Public Enemy (Part 3/7): Your life was going great. You’ve been promoted from police officer to detective - something you’ve worked hard for. Your first case was to solve a murder of a local drug dealer brought to the hospital who you suspect foul play from. completed

Forbidden Fruit - Kim Namjoon is a new professor at a local University that has all the girls swooning over him. He becomes entangled with one student - you being far too persistent for his own good. Professors are strictly forbidden to have any form of relationship with their students - but the forbidden fruit always tastes the best. completed

One Time Thing: Namjoon was the whole package - tall, dark hair with an amazing physique. Let's not forget the personality and the intelligence that was an added bonus. Too bad he was your friend's boyfriend - even if he did appear a little too infatuated with you. completed

Public Enemy (Part 2/7): After the sudden death of your boyfriend, Shin, of 2 years - by the hands of what you assume was a rival of his - you find yourself in deep shit. He assisted in paying your college tuition and other expenses you needed for school. Once the bill runs high and you’re threatened expulsion, you need money fast. Your decision to work as a camgirl wasn’t your first option, however, now it may be your only one. completed

Public Enemy (Part 4/7): You’ve been with your boyfriend, Shin, for 3 years. The relationship wasn’t perfect and the two of you butted heads often which resulted in him buying whatever designer items to get back in your good graces. For the last few months, you begin to notice a slip in his character and question just what he does when he isn’t with you. completed

Unusual Suspects: You were always told that the internet wasn't a safe space and to be careful who you were talking to. Namjoon, your crush of years, was someone you thought was a safe haven - until you realized he wasn't the man you adored but instead a catfish pretending to be him. Now, said catfish is determined to ruin your life and the life of your childhood best friend, Taehyung, for their own sick pleasure. completed

V-Day Special: You ask your ex - who you're still close with - if he's willing to come on your cam-show for a valentine's day special. completed

Nefarious [Prequel]: A look back in your and Jungkook’s relationship, prior to the marriage, kids and detachment. completed

Repent: Adventures of Jeon Jungkook and the new girl who attends the church retreat - and who is also determined to fuck him.

Sweet Serial Killer: The city is shaken up by the sudden murders going around - all by a man who claims he is doing so in the name of justice. People are divided - those who agree with the mysterious serial killer to do what the justice system has not; and those who disagree and want him captured and sent to prison. (Part 1 to Lethal Lovers) completed

Lethal Lovers: After finding out Jungkook is Yeonma, the vigilante serial killer that has the nation in a chokehold, he offers you a deal you refuse to turn down. (Part 2 to Sweet Serial Killer) completed

Public Enemy (Part 1/7): You don’t ask many questions when your boyfriend - a High School sweetheart of 4 years by the name of Shin - splurges his money on you and other luxuries. However, you know well enough that he works for one of the biggest mafia leaders of South Korea. completed

Cult: You've grown reclusive and naive to the world - your mother has sheltered you throughout your life. That was until you've grown of age and desire to see said world for what it was - through the eyes of 7 men - 1 in particular - who all claimed to be Gods of a new world. W.I.P

One Way or Another: You recant the horrible story of how you met Jeon Jungkook - a now ex-boyfriend of yours - to your therapist. You opened up about the obsessive and toxic behavior that has you constantly looking over your shoulder for the man you've been running from for years. One | Two

Peepshow: You were Jungkook's favorite person to watch when he was outside your window. This time, he's determined to have a closer look. completed

Lick Back: Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else. completed

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

Note

Greetings and salutations! Thank you all for your hard work! I was wondering if y'all knew any slice-of-life style, character-driven type fics? Not necessarily plotless, just focusses on character drama over plot drama. Preferably on the longer, slowburn-y side and canon compliant. Sorry if this is incoherent, but I figured if anyone could help y'all could. Thanks again!

Hello! Here are some slow-burn/slice of life more character-driven fics for you...

Taking Steps by JoyAndOtherStories (G)

Crowley was in a state of shock. Admittedly, this shouldn’t have been surprising, given that his recent experiences included near-death, body-swapping, car explosions, bookshop conflagrations, and rebellious eleven-year-olds defeating the forces of Heaven, Hell, and independent contractors. But that had been two weeks ago, and though saying he’d recovered would have been not so much stretching the truth as utterly shattering it, his current state of shock was…something different. “Say—say that again, angel?” he managed. “You said…you wanted to try…new things?” Basically: Aziraphale wants to try new things. The first one he comes up with: Salsa dancing! Meanwhile, Crowley really just wants to snuggle with his angel. Fluffy pining ensues while they figure out that they actually both want the same thing.

Take My Heart (But Not My Hand) by Ghostinthehouse (T)

"You know he needs touch?" "Yeah," Crowley says, following Adam's gaze to Aziraphale. "I know. We'll figure it out, he and I. We always do. Eventually."

My Favorite Ghost by DiminishingReturns (T)

Decades after the world didn’t end, Heaven and Hell got their war — and nearly destroyed everything in the process. When Aziraphale finally manages to reacquire a corporation and return to Earth, he discovers he was gone longer than he thought and the planet has become unrecognizable. As he searches for Crowley and tries to figure out how he fits in a world that Heaven, Hell, and God have all wiped their hands of, nature works around him to reclaim the bones of an old civilization as the scraps of humanity build a new one. A lush and optimistic post-apocalypse story, told from the POV of an immortal who can't let go of the past.

Though Heaven Bar the Way by books-and-omens (T)

Nearly five decades after the Holy Water argument, Aziraphale is sent to a world-famous sanatorium in the Swiss Alps on an assignment that Heaven appears to care about rather more than usual—only to find out that Crowley, of all creatures, has already established himself there. Clearly, this cannot be good for anyone's constitution.

Pictures of You by AnnetheCatDetective (M) (WIP)

It starts with a well-meaning gift, and a hopeful invitation. Mod note: While this fic is technically a WIP that has not been updated since 2019, it does currently end on a satisfying note.

I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)

After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #slice of life #long fic #mod d

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

hi lovely! for the 2k drabblepalooza, could I get Jin and friends to lovers? I just 🫡 ( i feel like he'd be perfect for it <33)

lmao, i went to pinterest before i started writing because that’s where i get the photos i use for fic headers. i am not exaggerating that i got sidetracked and spent ehhhhhh an entire hour just smiling fondly at my phone like a fool

the one with seokjin and the marathon

ft. childhood bestie seokjin, a critical analysis of rupaul’s drag race, and someone’s penchant for rapping while they rant.

It’s baffling, really, how you can be presented with the same circumstances — over and over — for two (2) decades and still not learn your lesson.

If you know anything at all, it’s that you should know better. You don’t, though, because all time seems to have done is weather down the ridges of your brain until experiences like this one slide right off.

Coincidentally, that’s precisely what happens to your tumbler full of coffee, which you’d had precariously balanced on top of your stack of books as you unlock your apartment. More specifically, when you unlock your apartment and find a half-slumped body on your couch.

Underscored by an unjustifiably startled gasp, your travel mug hits the hardwood floor with a dull clang and rolls somewhere unseen. Your saucer-wide eyes lock onto the unexpected head of black hair resting back against the cushion behind it, even though — realistically — you should expect this by now.

You gave him a key years ago, after all.

“Seokjin, you scared me,” you whine, but all you get is an absent-minded wave in response.

He’s too focused on whatever it is he’s watching to turn away from the laptop perched on your coffee table. From where you stand, you can’t see the screen — or the subtitles that would make sense of all the English flooding your ears.

“How long have you been here?”

It’s a mumble, he’s transfixed, but you think you hear him say, “Episode two.”

After accepting that vague reply, you shrug; then set your new — to you, anyway — used books onto the nearby console table. A quiet jingle rings out as you sling your keys over their designated hook. Then, once your hands are free, you wriggle free of the corduroy jacket and crossbody bag that weigh you down at your doorstep. With those quickly tucked into your hallway closet, you kneel down to unzip your boots.

Despite your thick, wool socks, the floor in your apparently heatless apartment is freezing. You hiss without meaning to, creep on tiptoe through your kitchen as if the floor is lava — or, more accurately, a lake not quite frozen enough to be trustworthy. You don’t stop until you find your runaway tumbler in its hiding place near the dishwasher. Thankfully, the absurd price proved itself worthwhile; your scorching hot coffee is still trapped where it belongs.

Your chilled hands cling to that warmth as you hop towards the rug splayed out over the adjoining living room floor. In a flash, you skirt around the coffee table, take up your usual spot on the couch, and promptly do what you do best: shove your frozen feet under the thighs of one shockingly patient Kim Seokjin. Relieved in an instant, you let go of a satisfied sigh.

He doesn’t react beyond a tiny smile, still staring intently ahead with thoughtfully narrowed eyes glued to the screen ahead. Too cold to wait, you take a hearty swig from your mug and immediately regret it. Your poor taste buds may be withering, but it’s a sudden realization that nearly makes you spit molten coffee out onto Seokjin’s lap.

For the record, you don’t.

“You’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race?” You cough while blinking rapidly through forming tears. Seokjin, as if in a trance, lifts his hand and pats your back firmly — twice — to wordlessly assist you through your mild choking fit.

Still shocked by this development, you persist, “Without me?” Your brain is thoroughly scrambled, so you amend, “Without me making you?”

You’d blathered on about this show in particular for years. Adored it, avoided making plans if they would conflict with new episodes. And all the while, you nudged Seokjin, asked him repeatedly if he was ever going to give in and join you. Every time, he said he’d add it to the list.

Seokjin and that goddamn non-existent list.

It drove you absolutely nuts that Seokjin rarely watched anything new. No matter how much you’d rave about something or how many other people would tell him he’d love it, he’d watch the same, short list of shows and movies on a rotating basis. You’d nearly dropped dead when he’d watched an Oscar-nominated movie in the same year it was released — but that was 2008 and it was a Batman film.

You still maintain that this deviation from pattern doesn’t count.

Maybe it’s not necessary for you to see the screen any better, but something in your frazzled little lizard brain tells you to scoot closer. You don’t fight it; you untuck your thawed feet from under his lap, drape your legs over his lap, and lean in to rest your head on his shoulder. Seokjin doesn’t react, and this time, you can’t attribute that fact to his fixation on the lip sync performance.

For once, you can’t even pretend to be surprised.

None of this closeness was out of the ordinary. If you were telling the truth, it would be unsettling if you’d ever hung out with Seokjin without one or both of you hanging on to the other. You hope the day never comes where you find out what that feels like. Though you’re certainly not a doctor, your best guess is that it’d be a very rare kind of phantom limb pain.

You don’t bother to unpack why you feel that way, though. You simply nestle into the same comfort you’d always relied on and join him in watching two men in wigs spinning and kicking to Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair.” Neither of you says a word.

It’s not until the performance is over that you realize Seokjin’s arm had, at some point, shifted from his lap. Now, it’s draped over your shoulder; and you’re closer than you were before. When did that happen?

“You’re already on season five?”

You don’t know why you’re whispering. Is it because you don’t want to interrupt Roxxxy Andrews’ tearful monologue about being left at a bus stop as a toddler, or because his face is right there?

The latter.

It’s the latter and oh, god, his cheek looks so soft. Your last brain cell is screaming at you to place your lips there, so you bite down on them instead.

Seokjin laughs as he continues to watch the drama unfold, like the answer is obvious. “Told you I’d add it to the list. I have to study up if I want Friday nights back.”

Something about this statement makes your heart flutter. The confirmation that the list is real and not some urban legend? The fact that he misses your unspoken yet semi-standing plans to do whatever? You feel another weird compulsion — this time, to cry — but you ignore it.

Instead, you timidly ask another question. “Do you like it so far?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have asked because you can’t say your prepared for how he might answer. Nothing is more nerve-wracking than offering up something you love for review by someone you love. Of course, it’s disappointing if they don’t end up liking it, but it’s soul-crushing if they have no reaction — and Seokjin hasn’t reacted.

You chew on your bottom lip and brace yourself for the worst.

“Don’t think I’ll ever understand,” he sounds something akin to annoyed and your high hopes crash-land in the pit of your stomach.

Jesus.

It was a gamble, asking your heterosexual, male friend to watch an absurd reality show — in a language neither of you speak — that centers around drag queens and their outlandish personalities. You knew this and you’d hoped that the only real barrier to him enjoying it was language.

When he tears his eyes away to look at you for the first time, your heart and brain both stop on a dime. There’s a pensive crease between his eyebrows, making you swallow in anticipation.

“If you’re going to do a wig reveal, why would you do it in the middle of a verse?”

You didn’t hear a starting whistle, but that doesn’t stop Seokjin from sprinting through his rant.

“No, seriously! If you’re lip-synching for — your — life, —” After emphasizing those three words with gentle yet impassioned pats on your shins, he sucks in a breath and lets the rest of his words fly out like machine gun fire.

“— against Alyssa Edwards, of all people — why wouldn’t you time your stunt with the music? Am I wrong? There was no crescendo! Not even a beat drop, just this very casual — oh, let me shrug off this first wig like I just got home from —”

Seokjin doesn’t get to finish what he started. Before you can even think once about it, you cradle his flushed cheeks in your hands and kiss him, hard. In the process, you shut him and that needy voice in your head right up.

When your own shock wears off, you expect him to pull away. You expect you to pull away. Wrong on both counts — yet again — you melt into him as his right hand shifts. Now anchored at the back of your neck instead of doodling mindless shapes over your cardigan, he presses himself closer to you until you can feel his pulse racing against your rib cage.

Experimentally, your tongue laves over the plush bottom lip you’d been staring at in wonder for years. Seokjin surprises you once again by opening up, groaning quietly into your mouth as you breach that perimeter and card your fingers through his hair.

You’re ready to throw yourself all the way into his lap — straddle him if you have to, just to kiss him deeper — but he pulls back, panting. You try very hard to swallow a whine. You fail miserably.

He stares at you like your answer might stop the world from spinning: “Does this mean you agree with me?”

“Seokjinie,” you snort as your laughter forces you to go limp in his lap. Your forehead bumps against his; it doesn’t hurt, but there are tears in your eyes, nonetheless. You wheeze, “It’s iconic!”

His eyes widen so much that you can see flecks of previously undiscovered amber within the deep brown. “It could be more iconic,” Seokjin rebuts, absolutely incredulous, “Think about it. If she had just —”

Flabbergasted, you interject with feigned offense and a gasp, “— You can’t show up ten entire years late to the party and start critiquing —”

“— I’ll do whatever I want, thank you very much,” he huffs, though a playful smirk is forming and causing his lip to twitch. He looks so pleased when you stop arguing and purse your lips.

You take the bait. Tilting your head slightly to the side, you hum, “Oh? Is that so, Kim Seokjin?”

It’s answer enough when he kisses you again.

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