#it took a ridiculous amount of practice but now i feel a lot more comfortable w it

[etherealacoustic]

Lifeless Eyes pt.3

Pairing - Wolfstar x daughter!OC, Fred Weasley x OC!

Summary - Nova Lupin-Black comes home for the Easter holidays and her parents are in for a shock.

Warnings - breakdown, depression and cursing.

Here is the final part of the small series, my first ever as well! Hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing this <33

Link for pt.1 here

Link for pt.2 here

And before she knew it, a pair of arms were wrapped carefully around her vulnerable frame.

Sirius held her close, pulling his daughter close against him as much as possible, wanting to hide her away safely from all of her demons.

"Shhh," he murmured and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"Da," she sobbed, her hands tightening as she gripped his shirt. "I c- can't- 's too much- I can't do- I'm sorry-"

"Hush love," Remus whispered from her side and rubbed her back. "Let it out".

"Pa," she stuttered and lifted up her head to look at him and Remus had never felt his heart being broken like this before.

A huge amount of pain had struck his chest as he looked at her destroyed state. He himself was shaking and he could also feel his eyes starting to water.

Her eyes on the other hand were crimson red, puffy and all wet with the tears that continued flowing down. She was shattered, as though she really had enough of everything.

Remus swallowed down his own lump and cupped her face, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm right here," he said desperately and she fell right into his arms.

"I'm right here," he repeated and shut his eyes tightly, a lone tear slipping down at last as he hugged her.

Nova Lupin-Black cried.

She cried and cried and cried.

She cried till there were no more tears left to fall, she cried till her throat was sore, she cried till her eyes were a deep red and her face a mess, she cried till every broken piece inside of her was free of all the emotions that were kept bottled inside for too long.

Her body stopped trembling after a few minutes and she lifted her head from its place on Remus' shoulder.

She let a deep breath escape her lips as she wiped her face, feeling her heart lighten at the breakdown.

"Sit down," Sirius instructed softly and directed her towards the bed while also handing her a glass of water.

"Feeling better now?" Remus asked.

"Loads," she answered and sniffed. "My shoulders seemed to have lost half the weight".

The two just smiled at her, their faces the embodiment of gentleness and comfort. They glanced at each other and both had the same thoughts.

They sat in silence after that, both men in no way intending to pressure or rush her.

"Can- can I tell you everything?" Nova broke the quiet hesitatingly.

"Course you can, love," Sirius grinned, extremely glad at her decision.

"Take it at your own pace," Remus suggested. "Go slow if it gets too hard".

She nodded gratefully but was then stumped, "From where do I even start?" She laughed nervously.

"Anyhow you like it," they said in unison.

"Alright," she said and bit her lip before beginning. "Well I've been like this for the past 3-4 months at least. And I didn't know what was happening. One day everything just suddenly went dull, black and ugly. I was no longer happy, or enthusiastic or passionate about anything anymore. It took a lot of effort to even smile, you know? It was like my face was a statue, like my very heart had gone numb".

"Dolores Umbridge," she muttered suddenly and both of their eyes narrowed at the rather familiar name. "She's the main reason, Dad," she mumbled, addressing them both.

"That woman is horrible, vile, cruel, evil, monstrous and every other synonym there is left. She tortured everyone, Da!" She exclaimed with slight emotion.

Sirius didn't say anything but Remus noticed the way his jaw had tightened considerably.

"She- She still has us read all those useless textbooks that have nothing apart from ridiculously long theories and boring passages. We still don't do any practicals because she's afraid we're gonna start our own army or something. And she's turning a blind to Voldemort as well! Talking about Cedric that way-" her voice broke as she took a minute to collect herself.

Cedric Diggory. Her best friend, the type of brother she never had. The loving, handsome, funny, brave and pure Hufflepuff.

Her Ced, whose memory was tainted everyday by the woman's false statements.

Now the only thing Nova felt was anger, and both of her parents sensed it quickly.

"I tried Pa," she said honestly and looked at him, her grey eyes meeting his honey ones. "I really tried to be as quiet as possible and not let her taunts get to me. And I was good, seriously I was".

He nodded, knowing there was a huge but coming up. He wasn't angry at her of course, he knew she had tried.

"But you can't expect me to stay quiet when that bitch mentions you," she said through gritted teeth.

"She what?" Sirius asked sharply, his gaze an identical one to his daughter's.

"Yes she did!" Nova said, glad that someone was now on the same level of furious as her.

"What did she say?" Remus questioned, his mind once again filling with thoughts of self-hatred.

"I can't even say it for merlin's sake! She- she insulted you because of- because of your furry little problem. In front of the whole fucking class!" Nova seethed.

"She did not," Sirius now whispered in a deadly tone.

"She did, Da!" Niva riled him up even more, but the pair fell silent at Remus' warning look.

"What did you do?" He asked cautiously, not wanting her to be in trouble because of him.

"I defended you," she answered with an innocent smile that was failing to hide the satisfied smirk. "Respectfully".

"Sure you did," he scoffed but a smile spread across his face anyways at seeing Sirius high-five her and at the huge grin adorning her face now.

"I got detention, but it was worth it," she shrugged. "And don't you dare tell me off for that. Even if you do, it'll be all worthless as I'd do the entire thing again in a heartbeat," she warned.

"I won't say anything," he rolled his eyes playfully. "But you should've been careful".

"Godric do I feel so much better now that I've got everything off," she laughed .

She laughed.

The two men stared at her for a second before laughing out loud themselves.

"This was the main part, the rest was just stress, tension, pressure from the exams and studies," she added.

"Sure?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Hogwarts has really become a terrible place since that wretched thing has stepped foot inside. I don't even wanna go back," she mumbled.

"No problem!" Sirius said with a very obvious glint in his eyes. "We have a teacher at home, you'll be all set".

Remus shook his head as the two shared a wicked laugh. "As much as I would love to keep you here, darling, you have to go. Unfortunately".

Nova faked a pout and huffed dramatically before resigning to her fate. "Well, the force can't always be with me".

He chuckled and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, "What did she have you doing in detentions?"

Silence. And more silence.

Remus' smile faded as his eyes glanced between Nova and Sirius, who looked a bit anxious too.

"Love, what are you not telling us?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion and also anger at Umbridge.

"I- um- she had me doing lines," she answered, not fully honest but not lying either.

"And?" Remus prodded her, knowing there was something to add.

She sighed, her eyes wandering for a second before she slowly lifted up her sleeve and put forward her left hand.

All that followed her action was a deadly calmness, one that was so intense that she was sure there was going to be a murder happening soon.

Remus swallowed and his eyes pierced the swollen skin of his daughter's hand, his entire figure radiating anger.

"Always a monster, always a disgrace," Sirius read it out through gritted teeth. "She's etched these words, Nova!"

"She didn't do it by herself," Nova mumbled. "I was given a blood-quill, where you use your own blood to write and the words appear on your hand".

"That absolutely revolting and bloody maniac-" An endless stream of curses fell from his lips as he paced around the room.

"Pa?" Nova said cautiously.

Remus didn't say anything and just took her hand in his, his touch filled with every bit of gentleness that his eyes were failing to provide at the moment. He tapped the red skin with his wand and she hissed a little as he healed the deep cuts.

"It looks fresh," Sirius added as he sat down again and watched the wound being treated.

"Well I did have my last detention just a day before coming here".

"For how long?" Remus questioned.

"Almost a month now".

"Why didn't you send a letter?" Sirius muttered and was already planning different ways to commit a crime.

"She would've intercepted it and the result would be more detentions," Nova grumbled. "But it's okay though, I'm fine now".

"It's not okay!" Remus exclaimed. "It's not right to use these things on students. This is a form of torture for godric's sake!"

"I know, Pa," she nodded and spoke softly. "And believe me I would love nothing more than to beat the shit out of her, but it'll not only land me, but us all in trouble too. And it's not worth the risk".

"And where did that girl go who always quoted, 'What's life without a little risk?'" Sirius frowned, not at all liking this.

"I'm still the same, Da," Nova smiled. "But it's really not worth it".

"It bloody is, it's you who's on the line. It's worth every fucking risk," Remus scowled but he did understand.

"Yeah yeah whatever," she brushed it off and flopped onto his lap while keeping her legs in Sirius'.

"If you happen to get the news of Dolores Umbridge mysteriously turning bald, I didn't do anything," he said suddenly and the other two burst out laughing.

"You'll be the first to know," Nova grinned and poked his stomach.

The trio sat there till it was quite late. Just speaking randomly and enjoying each other's presence after being away for so long.

"I'll go get some water," Nova got up holding her stomach as she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, the reason being Sirius' very bad joke.

She still had a smile on her face as she reached the kitchen and was met with her best friends.

"Hey boys," she greeted cheerfully and the two turned around unbelievably fast.

"Nov," George breathed out and his lips rugged upwards at seeing her back. He quickly went over and hugged her tightly, almost squeezing the life out of her.

She grinned and pulled away to see him pushing Fred towards her and then shooting them a wink before leaving the two alone.

"Hey Freddie," she whispered softly and snaked her arms around his neck as he pulled her close.

"Hullo love," he smiled giddily and wasted no time in pressing his lips to hers with double the passion.

He kissed her with every bit of emotion that was filling his heart, all for her. He kissed her as a sorry for not doing more, for not helping out more. He kissed her as a thank you for fighting the battle and coming out victorious. He kissed her lovingly, feeling his happiness rise upon seeing hers.

"Thank you," she said after they pulled away. Breathless and overwhelmed.

"Every time," he replied and pecked her cheek gently.

"And sorry too".

"I'll take that one as well".

The couple laughed like buffoons, being crazily drunk over each other that they were unable to form a meaningful sentence.

Fred gave her a beautiful smile and wrapped her in an embrace, "I love you".

Her lips twitched and she leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth and intimacy. "I love you too".

She then pulled back and gave him one last kiss before saying good night.

"Night," he whispered back and watched with a daze as she walked up the stairs.

Nova still had the red hue that had coated her cheeks during the kiss and as she entered her room, her parents were quick to spot it.

"Took you long enough to just get some water, eh?" Sirius teased and lifted his eyebrows while Remus smirked.

"Oh shut up," she grumbled and laughed despite herself as she finally settled on the bed.

"Of course," Remus smiled, one that wasn't sincere in any kind of way making her roll her eyes.

"Sleep now," Sirius said after toning down the teasing session and turning off the lights.

"Yeah," she answered, grabbing the blankets and closing her eyes.

"Love you, darling," said Remus.

"Tons and tons," completed Sirius.

"I love you 3000," she offered them a cheeky grin and wink before letting sleep take her.

The two men chuckled fondly at her antics, glad to have their little star once again. They looked at her adoringly before gazing at each other with the same amount of love.

----------------------------------------------

#remus lupin #harry potter ff #sirius black #wolfstar #andrew garfield #ben barnes #wolfstar daughter #wolfstar dads #wolfstar masterlist #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fic #wolfstar x daughter oc #wolfstar x daughter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x wolfstar!daughter

[broomchickabroom]

Ten Good Things in 2023

Thanks @lantur !

Book Clubs! I was (am) part of a truly absurd number of book clubs this year—two for work (my department and the larger corporate group), and one with a couple of friends from high school who are VORACIOUS readers and regularly are like “we can read three books this month!” With a couple of exceptions, I read ALL of the books for all of these book clubs, and ended up having consumed significantly more nonfiction than I usually do. I read about social justice, a significant amount about mental health, team building, and self improvement. Oh, and AIDS—I read a 600 page (densely printed) book about the AIDS crisis, and feel like I took an entire class on it—I understand so much more about that era in American (and global) history. 

Marriage! Alex and I both really enjoyed the influx of loved ones that the leadup to the wedding produced. I had a SPECTACULAR time at my bachelorette party, and the wedding day was so much fun. It feels like my love for Alex has just grown—it happened once when he first moved in, and then just being “husband” and “wife” didn’t change day to day life, but it feels so much more settled in love—like—secure and kind. I am very happy.

Meds.  I have been on Zoloft for nearly a whole year, and was able to reduce my prescription to a half dose this year, which removed some of the side effects that I didn’t like much. It feels great to be equalizing emotionally, and I keep hitting goalposts that remind me of how far I’ve come like “hey, in January of last year I felt AWFUL when we had no sun for a whole week and this year it only bothered me in passing!”

Mom getting a MN condo.  Right before the wedding, my mom bough a condo in Minnesota which seems like such a ridiculous extravagance, but it’s made it a lot easier to have out-of-town guests (including my mom). People can stay longer and have their own space which makes for such a fun visit!

Making clothes! I got really into making clothes from scratch this year, and while I’m not very good at it yet, I really enjoy the process—from picking fabric and patterns to the small successes while I’m working on new things!

Friends, beloved friends! I was able to spend a lot of really quality time with friends this year and enjoyed every minute of it!

Intentional downtime. I picked up two TV shows that I’m watching independently at my pace and have really been enjoying—it’s nice to feel like I’m taking charge of the feeling that I’m always behind all of the pop culture that everyone else is experiencing! 

Getting more comfortable being alone. Before my current household setup, I spent a lot more time with my roommates, and was basically never alone or far from the action which I really liked. Now my husband and roommate spend most of their time upstairs during evening downtime which has been a hard transition for me, and resulted in some bad self talk and feeling lonely. I’m not totally adjusted yet, but I’ve been working really hard on being okay with the alone time, and practicing looking forward to it rather than letting it feel sad!

Less scrolling. I cut out about 50% of the time that I used to spend scrolling on Tumblr, fanfiction sites, and social media sites (thus the month later response to Lantur’s prompt :)). I still get plenty, but it’s nice to realize that I haven’t really been on the computer/phone outside of work in a couple of days now and then. 

Taking out all of the tools I need before I start a project. Lol, right? Right. I am 3x as quick and productive if I do all of the walking around and gathering tools before I start something, and having the correct tools makes a project so much easier. This is a small part of a larger personal project where I force myself to plan more than I ever have before—i.e., less winging it. Most of the time. I still get to wing it sometimes, as a treat. :)

#2023 in review #Lantur

[juroguro]

goretober day 31: freeform (happy belated halloween!)

once again, the hot take of the evening is that romantica and hannigram are the same couple :) you are not allowed to disagree with me. so here’s act one interpreted to habal universe... in a different way!

i hope you guys enjoyed this series :) i’ll write a longer note of my sorrows on ao3 but im glad you guys stuck with me through this disaster lolol. please enjoy this final one! ty!! <3

Will stands in front of Hannibal Lecter’s house, feeling quite out of place. Something about the juxtaposition of the grand, dark, Victorian exterior and Will’s fly-fishing jacket, plaid shirt, and discount-shelf khakis didn’t sit right with him. Yet, this was somewhat of a requirement to enable him to save lives, catch killers. So, he proceeds.

To give Will some peace of mind, Jack assured him that Will wouldn’t actually be Hannibal’s patient—there would be no exchange of anything of monetary value. Out of guilt, though, Will brought a pot of homemade chicken soup with him, maybe the only homemade thing he makes that he thinks tastes good. Lecter is one of Baltimore’s top psychiatrists, after all. It felt wrong to get his services completely for free.

keep reading

#somehow when i write habal i remember what vocabulary is #hannibal #junjou romantica #cross-tagging just in case anyone's interested lol #goretober #goretober 2020 #fishy's goretober #fics #mine #but im very glad to have this done finally!!!!!!!! i can relax :) i can sleeb :) #i really like all the stuff i made? which is weird bc i usually hate like 30% but its a lot less this time #i gained a lot from everything :) #i feel a lot better about writing action :) fight scenes!!! #it took a ridiculous amount of practice but now i feel a lot more comfortable w it #anyway :) happy november lol

[thewritetofreespeech]

I love when great writers I haven’t seen yet pop up on my dashboard. Hi to you! 😘 I just went through all your KNB! Never find enough content anymore! 😩 Anyhow, I didn’t see that you’ve written for Kasamatsu but if you don’t mind can I get something for him and Akashi falling for and confessing to someone NOT their type? They like serious dignified girls. So, a girl who is a sarcastic prankster, always teasing. A lot like Kise or someone who would be Kise’s female bestie. Once they get to know her they see how she’s really compassionate and just wants people to laugh and smile. 👉👈🥺🙏💘

Akashi

"Gaaaah! This is taking too loooong!!" [Y/N] whined as they stretched out across the table the 3 of them were sitting at in the courtyard for study group. Causing Mayuzumi to frown and Akashi to shake his head fondly.

"A temple of knowledge is not built overnight. It is built over time. Stone by stone."

"And caffine." [Y/N] interjected on Akashi's nice speech as they stood and grabbed their bag. "I'm gonna get a coffee from the vending machine. I'll be back in a bit. Feel free to learn without me!" Then they were bouncing off, suddenly with more energy, to find a vending machine.

Alone, and finally quiet, Mayuzumi sighed heavily. "I can't believe you're dating them." He muttered.

The forward returned to his paper, then moments later felt compelled to look back up. If his hair wasn't already white it would have turned so in that moment with the look Akashi was giving him. The sheer cold heat in his gaze. Consuming him so it made him feel like he was 2 feet tall. Like a mouse caught in the gaze of a lion ready to strike. "Do you want to say that again?"

"N-No...." Mayuzumi stammered. Not comforted at all by the red head's cool smile in return.

"Good."

Akashi turned his gaze away from the other man towards [Y/N]. Softening as they bounded back up to them with drinks for all 3 of them. "Here Mayuzumi-san. I got you a milk tea since I know you like them."

"T-Thank you." He replied and took the drink, but dare not drink it.

He wasn't sure how Akashi could have posioned it in a vending machine for the slight, but he wasn't certain that he couldn't. Better to play it safe than sorry.

Kasamatsu

Kasamatsu grit his teeth. Stupid Kise and his stupid good looks, and stupid athetic ability, and stupid easy way he could just talk to girls. It wasn't fair!

It had taken all his courage, and a fair amount of practicing, to get up the nerve to ask [Y/N] to go out with him for the weekend. His weakness for talking to girls was well known. So it was a huge accomplishment for him to even get most of the way through what he was trying to say.

Then Kise (stupid Kise) overheard what he was trying to say and invited himself along on this now group date.

Now the two of them were chatting it up and laughing like crazy, while Kasamatsu was left out in the cold.

"Oh! Look at that top! It's so pretty!"

"You should try it on [Y/N]-cchi! I'm sure it would look super cute on you!" Kasamatsu grit his teeth again. He wanted to say that, but was too tongue tied to get the words out.

[Y/N] told them that they'd just be a second, and left their bags with the boys before heading in. Blowing both of them a kiss.

Kise pretended to catch it and blew one back, to which Kasamatsu grumbled loudly this time. "I hate it when you do that."

"Hn? Do what?" Kise asked. Seeming genuinely confused.

"That! Acting all kiddy and stuff like that. It's ridiculous. You're in highschool. Have some pride."

"Waaaa??" Kise sounded in alarm. "How come they get away with it and I don't??"

Kasamatsu crumpled his mouth at the blonde, then turned away in what he thought was a dignified huff; but it was really a pout. "It's cute when they do it...."

Kise's eyes widened a little, before they returned to normal and he smiled knowingly at his teammate. "Bull," he said calmly, "I'm hella cute."

Kise doesn't say more on the topic, or give Kasamatsu any more greif about it. Which, surprised him. The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon in the shopping district. Kise being there actually helped because it gave Kasamatsu something to focus on instead of his nerves.

He would never be as stupidly handsome or social as Kise, but it was good to know he wasn't totally hopeless.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #seijuro akashi #akashi seijuurou x reader #knb akashi #kasamatsu yukio #knb kasamatsu #kasamatsu x reader #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket scenarios #kuroko no basket imagines #knb kise #kise ryouta #knb scenarios #knb imagines #[never wrote for kasamatsu before] #[be gentle] #female reader

[nat-20s]

8 for jmart?

#8- constantly cheacking their messages for words from the other

what else was I gonna do? here's some classic ol' season 3 pining babey

Hello Martin. This is Jon. I have gotten a new phone after losing my last one, please put in the new number.

It's a simple message. Straightforward, factual, and utilitarian. There is no reason that pressing send should make his heart race. There's especially no reason that the second he sends it off, he's tempted to lie on the deeply uncomfortable, likely bedbug infested motel mattress staring at his screen until he gets a response. Sure, he's sick of being overseas, and he's sick of being so isolated, and he's sick of running, but he's not...desperate for what little companionship can even be provided by words on a screen.

He does miss Martin, though. He misses Tim as well, but in a manner that's significantly more complex and knotted than the simple desire to be around him.

God, when did he start wanting to just be around Martin? He started being aware of that want when he was at Georgie's, but he has no idea when the want itself actually started. That was probably something he should examine. Technically speaking, that is something that he has time to examine, but he doesn't want to examine right now. Right now, he wants the comfort of perhaps one of the only people out there that doesn't want to kill him, or use him, or both.

Martin, whether through somehow sensing Jon's discontent from nearly 4000 miles away or, more likely, through a general dutifulness inherent to his character, only takes a few minutes to reply. Oh good! it'd been a little bit since hearing from you, we were somewhat worried. putting you in my contacts as we speak :)!

Saying that "we" were worried is almost certainly generous on Martin's part, but Jon feels no need to point that out. Instead he turns on his side and stares at the phone. He particularly focuses on the smiley face, ridiculously charmed by the fact that, despite everything, Martin hasn't lost his predilection for emojis. Two years ago, he would've rolled his eyes, maybe thought something snide about professionalism. It wouldn't have been fair, as Tim used to do the same thing and he thought nothing of it, but he wasn't fair back then. Now, he simply wonders if he can get away with sending one back.

Before he can respond, Martin sends another message. Are you actually alright? I realized I was kind of assuming that losing your phone was the only reason you were MIA, but is anything else going on?

Damn. He tends to forget how perceptive Martin can be. What, exactly, Martin had perceived in that first message, Jon couldn't be sure, but apparently there was something that tipped him off to the..eventful last week he'd had. He really, really doesn't feel like getting into all of that right now, especially not over text, so instead he replies a mostly truthful I'm fine.

Then, squinting at the screen and realizing that might come across as a dismissal, he adds, Well, other than trying not to contemplate the general sanitation practices of a motel that clearly hasn't updated it's decor since the 70s. I'm suspecting the sheets are much the same.

He doesn't know how Martin will react to the message. He can't see the face he'll make, won't know the tone of his voice. However, he likes to imagine that Martin will at least smile. Maybe he'll even give that breath of a laugh, the one that sometimes happens when Jon's being lightly acerbic and it's not directed at him. He doesn't know, but he does hope for it. Martin texts back Oof. Maybe sleep on top of the covers tonight, yeah?, and Jon thinks that he might have guessed Martin's reaction correctly.

Christ, who knew all it took was a combination of jetlag and threats to turn him into a sap. He needs to sleep. He really needs a deep, proper, uninterrupted sleep, one lasting a minimum of eight hours and ideally closer to fifteen. Checking the time, it would be a fairly reasonable time to sleep, especially with the early start he has tomorrow. He considers sending off a quick good night message, but then has the realization that as reasonable as it is for him to be asleep right now, it's just as unreasonable for Martin to be awake. Are you alright? Good lord, Martin, it's almost 4am over there. Did I wake you?

Barely 30 seconds pass before he gets back no, you're good!

A beat, then a follow up message. I've had a irregular sleep schedule since I was like 16. A lot of evening and night shifts had a lasting impact u know? Working at the institute made it a bit more consistent but it's still p rare that i sleep the same eight hours night to night.

Jon's starts to text back something sympathetic; he's had his own struggles with both in- and hyper- somnia, but his phone buzzes in his hand before he can finish it.

Sorry! That was uh probably more information than you wanted.

Well, that just won't do. Even if there wasn't a part of his brain that had recently started collecting facts about Martin like they were precious jewels instead of mostly mundane stories, he doesn't want Martin to think he can't talk to him about things outside of the standard bounds of coworkers. Not at all. We're friends, Martin, I enjoy learning about you.

His brain wants to catastrophize the second he presses send. For the first minute that Martin doesn't reply, he doesn't let it. After the second minute, he allows the minor worry to become more severe. Had it been too much? Were they friends? Jon certainly thought so, but what if Martin wasn't in the same boat? Their interactions had been entirely friendly for months now, but what if that was just Martin being polite? God, what if Martin still thought of Jon as his boss, nothing more?

Ten minutes. It takes ten minutes for Martin to finally respond, and Jon has almost called him four times to explain himself. Ten minutes, and the first response is only Oh!

Then: Cool

Well, that's not a "piss off and die", but it's not exactly comforting. Jon doesn't know how to reply, staring at the words on his screen and not entirely sure if he's fucked up or not. Fortunately, Martin's not done responding, and the next message is much, much better.

Hey uh. Feel free to say no I know it's getting late over there but. Im not getting back to sleep for the rest of the day and itd be nice to actually hear you. Would you be okay with a call?

Without a moment's hesitation, he texts back Yes!, exclamation and all, because he's become someone he barely recognizes. The phone rings just as immediately, and he feels his entire body relax at Martin's first "Hello?"

Things are difficult right now. Things have been difficult ever since the promotion that was a curse in disguise. The world is filled with monsters he barely understands. He wishes he was home despite the fact that he barely recognizes it, as filled with tension and strife as it is. There's so much to discuss, so many things they should be hammering out. But right now, the threats are not pressing. Right now, he can hear about the bad true crime documentary Martin half-watched before he got Jon's texts, and Jon can bitch about the three different "pip pip cheerio" comments he's gotten since coming over seas. Right now, and for the hour before Jon drifts off, breathing slow and deep, he can pretend that this is an ordinary phone call, in an ordinary world, between two people who simply miss each other an extraordinary amount.

#replies #elfgrunge #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #fluff prompts #'this story has been told before' AND IT'LL BE TOLD AGAIN!!

[shadowsinger11]

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #fred and george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #oliver phelps

[allywritesforfun]

Uhhh, a part 2 of the AweSamDude story. I don't know, maybe the court case would be cool! If requests arent open, then ignore them

um yes! I have wanted to make a part 2 for so long but had no clue where to start and this just makes perfect sense!

{Locked Up Heart pt 2} irl!warden!awesamdude x Reader

pronouns: were originally not mentioned, but now are she/they

word count: 2987

trigger warnings: mention/talk of rape and murder, court cases, somewhat angsty 

a/n: the law I mentioned is a real law but I can't remember what the law is actually called so roll with it

part one

masterlist

You stared at yourself in the body mirror. You haven't seen yourself look like this in years. All dressed up and ready to impress. You wore a gorgeous black suit with a purple inside along with sleek black pants. You looked into the body mirror, admiring yourself.

Sam let you live with him “until you could find your own place” but neither of you had intentions of leaving. You looked at apartments once online, but you knew with this on your record that you were going nowhere but some run down ghetto, and Sam knew that too. 

He knew that you would be able to take care of yourself there, he wasn't scared for your safety or any of that. He was scared that you wouldn't be able to support yourself. Finding a job was hard, all that there was these days for someone like you was online surveys that were not reliable.

Staying with Sam was the best of the both of you. He has been without a roommate for years now. He felt less alone with you being there. The first couple nights were awkward. You slept on the pull out couch and didn't have much clothes. You felt terrible about the amount of washes you did, but eventually you started to get more comfortable with Sam. 

The first sign of progression was when he offered you his sweatshirt instead of a blanket. It was a sweet gesture, you gladly took it. Later that night instead of returning it, you cuddled it to sleep. Now, its your version of a teddy bear. Nice and warm and flourished with Sam’s scent.

You only started sleeping in his bed with him a week ago. It was a purposeful accident. He offered to watch tv in his room since you two deep cleaned the couch. You've planned on falling asleep on him, but you didn't plan for it to be that day. 

It was the best feeling in the world: waking up to being wrapped around and held tight and safe. You must've laid there when you woke up for an hour before Sam got up. You pretended to be asleep so that you could play the innocent girl card. It worked.

You felt a pair of large hands caress your waist. You jumped and had a little fear-induced hiccup.

“Sorry!” Sam took his hands off and backed away. “I’m still getting used to sensitive areas.”

You two have been working on okay areas to touch. You taught yourself to be extra alert while in the prison and certain touches trigger your reflexes and others cause panic, like hips.

Because of your high murder count, you were sent to the normal prison, the non-all woman prison. It wasn't the worst in the world. You only saw males during eating times, but it was common to get grabbed like that. It happened to every single female, every eating hour. The guards did nothing about it, not that they really could. 

Sam has seen it before, not you, but to other women. He had an idea of areas to stay away from, but he is such an affectionate guy and sometimes he forgets.

“You’re okay, Sam. The more you do it, the more comfortable I’ll get with it,” You explained.

Sam was so good to you. He’s helped you through it all. Everything that you needed to heal, he gave to you. 

“Well then maybe after the trial we can get some practice in...” He swooned. 

You chuckled, “If we win. There’s a chance I won't come back here tonight. I’m lucky enough that they gave me stay at home orders in the meantime.”

He nodded, “We’re gonna win.” He kissed your cheek, “How could anyone that looks as scrumptious as you right now lose? There is no way. We have the evidence, and we have your perfect prison record. Not a single misdemeanor! They might not drop all chargers but you’re coming home tonight.”

“Home?” You questioned.

You've avoided that word for the longest time. You always said ‘the house’ or ‘your place’. Not because you didn’t want this to be your home, not the exact opposite. You wanted this to be forever home, but you never wanted to overstay your welcome. 

“Yes home,” Sam laughed. “Why wouldn’t this be home... you feel safe here don’t you?”

“I do!” You exclaimed, waving your hands back and forth in denial. “I just didn't realize you wanted this to be my home.”

Sam offered his hand out to you; you gladly took it. His soft hand gently squeezed yours as he pulled you slowly into him, embracing you, “Of course I want this to be your home. I couldn't imagine anywhere else I would want you to be. This never felt like home to me, until you came home with me.”

You breathed in his scent, instantly relaxing into him, “I like it here. A lot.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, “Now have that same attitude in court, we got to go.”

The court room was filled, more than you expected. You looked around, not recognizing a single face except for a few prison guards who were testifying on both sides. You noticed the media set it up in the back. Your story hit the news faster than expected. You did have a great story: warden falls in love with murder. 

“Hands out,” The officer directed.

You obliged. You opposed no threat to anyone and no intentions too, but if putting you in handcuffs made them feel better, then handcuffs it was. You looked back at Sam as the cold metal locked around your wrists. He replied with a frown, which quickly turned into an encouraging smile.

His bipolarness was the vibe right now. You noticed people having a hard time deciding where to sit. There were a lot of people on both sides, but no family members of yours. You gave up on them a long time ago when you noticed they weren’t writing letters and ignoring your calls.

You didn't need them, all you needed was Sam. You have everything you want right now, except for freedom.

“All rise!” 

You stood up from the wooden bench. The judge walked in wearing the classic black gown and had a book in his hands. He nodded at a few of his guards before taking a seat. He opened up his book and looked around the room, landing on you.

“Good afternoon everyone, and there are a lot of you,” His voice was so deep that it bounced against the walls, making an eerie echo. “Calling the case of State Prison vs y/n. Are both sides ready?”

The representative of the prison and your lawyer both replied with a yes. The jury then stood and raised their right hand and made their oath, returning to the bench. 

The representative stood up and gave their opening statement: “Ladies and gentleman of the court, Your Honor, the Jury. You will find that the defendant has been charged with four accounts of murder and convicted by confession. The defendant has taken accountability for all the murders committed and has given detail about how she killed those four men. It is ridiculous that we are here in court today deciding if we can release a serial killer back into the public. With a strong motive to kill, there is no reason why the defendant should be let back into the public eye.”

Serial killer. That is what you are. No one has ever said it that way, but he was absolutely right. You fit the definition perfectly, you had a type and more than three victims. It already wasn't looking good for you.

Your lawyer took center stage, “A martyr is the perfect word to describe the defendant. They have given their life to the state to save the lives of many to come. The strength that my client displays and ownership prove that although they are guilty of the crimes, they are still human and deserve a second chance.”

The judge called you to take the stand. You sat down after taking your oath and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

“Miss l/n,” He started. “Today you are trying to get your case dismissed after confessing to your crimes. That is very interesting. Let’s go back to before the crimes were committed, what were you thinking, what were you doing in your life at the time?”

You shook your head, “Many years ago I was an activist. I enjoyed speaking to the public about issues facing the community and the world at the time. If I wasn't outside with a sign, I was inside posting on social media. I was in college, I was studying Political Science.”

“And what were you planning on doing with the major?”

You paused. It’s been so long that you had a hard time remembering why you wanted to study and what career you wanted, “I was planning on becoming a political journalist, Your Honor.”

He shuffled around his papers, “I’ve looked at your latest credit that you were working on. It was a Sociology class. Do you remember what topic you were discussing in class?”

You nodded, “Rape. The number of rapes in a year and the number of rapists convicted was the last assignment I was working on.”

You remember that assignment like it was yesterday. That one assignment got you so worked up and so mad at the world, that you just had to do something. There was no way that you couldn't. Women’s voices were being ignored and cases rose every day; repeat offenders increased everyday.

“Now to my understanding all the men that you murdered were accused of rape.”

You nodded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“The attorney may ask questions to Miss l/n.”

The attorney stood up and adjusted your jacket, “Miss l/n, did any of those men physically harm you?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“So you took advantage of the fact that you were young to persuade the men into being alone with you just to kill them?”

You shook your head, “No, I didn’t persuade them at all. All of them suggested going back to their place.”

“But you did stalk them to find out where they were going?”

“No,” You answered. “They had their location public on their phone. All I did was look up their name and I knew where they were.”

“So these men did nothing to you at all except invite you over to their house. And you accepted the offer under no influence or threat. You killed four innocent men and you want to be let back out on the streets? This woman is a danger to society. She seeks out innocent men to end their life for no reason.” He nodded his head and went back to his desk, looking at his notes. He looked back at you and nodded, “That will conclude my questioning.”

You looked back at your lawyer, they gave you back a look of relief. Then you searched the crowd for Sam. Once you found him he gave you a thumbs up. It seemed like you were already on top of the case.

“Miss y/n,” Your lawyer started. “We all know that you killed those men, but why?”

“They raped multiple women. When brought to court, they were given a light sentence and did not do proper justice to the woman. These woman went day to day fearing for their life that they ever spoke out about the terrible things that happened to them. I couldn't let myself live knowing that there was a reason for women to be scared because their government had failed them.”

“Those women were scared? Why were they scared?” “Because they feared that they would get raped again. All of those men were repeat offenders. They would only take more victims and never be punished.”

“So you killed those men to prevent others from being hurt with evidence that it would happen again.”

You nodded, “I would never hurt anyone that had no intentions of causing harm.”

“Miss l/n just described public defense. Under the public defense law, anyone can defend the public with reasonable cause. It’s like self-defense, but for others. She shouldn’t have been committed in the first place. If those men were still alive, they would have kept raping until they were killed. Miss y/n saved lives. That concludes my questioning.”

You were dismissed from the stand and went back by your lawyer. They smiled at you, knowing that with that alone, they had won the case.

The attorney called Sam to the stand; he took his oath and sat down.

“So, Sam. You were the warden in charge of the wing that Miss y/n was being held in?”

“Yes.”

“That prison is a tough place to be, she must’ve fussed around a lot.”

Sam shook his head, “Not one bit. She does not have a single complaint against her. Everything that was asked of her, she did with speed and efficiency. She didn't have one lash out in her time.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Like I said, not one complaint.”

“To my understanding you have a relationship with Miss l/n, is that correct?”

“Objection!” Your lawyer yelled. “Irrelevant to the case. Sam was called because of his position and his professional opinion, not his personal life.”

“Sustained.”

“That concludes my questioning.”

Your lawyer stood up and nodded. You could feel that they were about to lay down the last blow.

“Sam, did this prison have any rapists?”

He nodded, “All kinds of rapists, of all ages and target groups.”

“Did Miss l/n ever have contact with these rapists?”

“Yes. Most of the time during eating hours and the occasional passing in the hall.”

“And how did that interaction go?”

“Miss l/n was given a hard time by these rapists. While waiting in line she was often sexually grabbed. During passing she was cat called and teased at.”

“And what was here response to the sexual assault?”

“Stone faced, emotionless. Every time it happened it amazed me how she would just stand there and wait to be given a direction. The most reaction she’s ever had was lightly shuffling her body to get them off, but she never lunged or reached at them.”

“And what did the other guards do when they noticed this behavior?”

“Nothing. Sometimes they yelled if it was getting close to rape, but overall nothing. We were under instructions not to react because in the past it only caused encouragement of the assault. Prisoners love any excuse to fight a guard,” Sam looked over at you. “I am so sorry that there was nothing I could’ve done. Everyday I watched as you were touched and I wanted to give it to them, I wanted to make sure that I would see them every day of their life, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk hurting you more.”

You smiled, almost tearing up at his words, but you kept yourself composed with a small sniffle.

“The main concern of Miss y/n going back into the public is that she will kill again. As said by her and concluded by a court, she only killed rapists,” Your lawyer pointed out. “As stated by the warden in charge of looking over her, she had the opportunity to kill. She had the opportunity to hurt them, but she never took it. Even after being sexually assaulted, she still kept to herself. This is undeniable evidence that Miss y/n is a changed woman. In her file it is stated that she did more than required community service and went above and beyond with helping other cellmates. Her actions within the prison prove that she is a well-rounded and caring individual. She has changed her ways and is ready to go back into the world. She did justice to the world and it is time for the world to her justice.”

You waited anxiously for over an hour to find out what the jury had decided. You and your lawyer talked about possible outcomes. They told you the sooner they made the decision, the better chances that you had. You had no error in your case and said everything that you wanted to say. The opposing side’s evidence was all proven false.

You got called back into the court, the jury had made their final decision. You rose for the judge and took a seat when prompted. You could feel your leg bouncing.

“In the case of the State Prison vs l/n...” the judge started. You looked over your shoulder at Sam. He had his hands placed in a praying position with his head resting against them. “Miss y/n is found not guilty of all charges and her remaining sentence will be dismissed. She will compensated for her time falsely spent in prison plus be rewarded another trial for her sexual assault. This case is adjourned.”

You could feel emotion flood through you. Pure happiness and joy leaked from your eyes. You tilted your head back in relief and squeezed at your heart. All of these years of the bullshit you put up with was all worth it. You hugged your lawyer and thanked them up and down, the emotion so strong in you that you almost dropped to your knees. You were caught by familiar hands: Sam. Sam pulled you up and into him. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. He calmed down for a second to lock eyes with you. He couldn't help but smile and cry with you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple deep and meaningful kiss that said all the words that he wanted to say.

“I’m coming home!”

#awesamdude #awesamedude x reader #x reader #warden #prison #warden!sam #irl #fluff #angst #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt oneshot #oneshot #awesamdude oneshot #awesamdude imagine #imagine #mcyt imagine

[missmorosis]

sick manager :)

-> feat. sugawara and kuroo

part 1 with bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima here!

genre: fluff!

synopsis: y/n, the manager of her school’s volleyball team, finds herself sick after days of hard  work, yet she still goes to school to support her team~ 

warnings: the reader is sick, and she passes out in kuroo’s scenario :))

pairings: sugawara x reader, kuroo x reader (separate!!)

total word count: 1.5k

a/n: OKAY SO HAHHSLKDFJ RIGHT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I GOT SICK W/ A FEVER- I THINK I JINXED MYSELF OMG

i tried to make the scenario KINDA different, but with the same idea hehe

anYWAYS i’m so sorry if this makes like zero sense AHSLDKF- i wrote a lot while i was sick SO ill blame it on fever delusion if it flops 😌

OH AND THIS IS FOR @haikyuuheartsclub ty for reading the first one and asking for a part 2 hehe <33

You getting sick was inevitable.

You knew that you were bound to get sick with all of the work you had been doing and all of the late nights you spent preparing volleyball strategies, planning practice tournaments for your team, or studying until your eyesight blurred.

Being your school's volleyball team manager was not only hard, but it was ridiculously time consuming. Not to mention that you were bombarded with schoolwork, and you had exams coming up. Your stress levels had never been higher, and you were practically living off of caffeine with the amount of sleep you were always lacking.

So when you woke up with a sick feeling and the worst headache, you weren't completely surprised. Annoyed would have been a better word.

You knew that your team was getting ready for an important tournament, so you would have to stay extra long for practice. Groaning as you got ready, you weren't sure you could make it through the day.

You sluggishly pulled on a hoodie and brushed your teeth, taking note of how warm you felt as you washed your face. Grabbing a thermometer, you quickly measured your temperature.

100.4 Fahrenheit. Not too bad... just a low-grade fever. You tried to shrug it off and ignored how disgusting your body felt. You slung a backpack over your shoulder and walked out the door, heading to school.

You waited at the bus stop, shaking your head to try and make the sickness go away. When the bus arrived a while later, you plopped down onto the closest seat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from closing. You were just so... tired...

You drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of the bus driving across the road comforting you.

...

“Uh, Y/N?” Someone was shaking your side, and you immediately lifted your head from the bus window you were leaning on. It seemed like you just closed your eyes a second ago... where were you now?

"Mm?" you hummed sleepily, blinking slowly. You rubbed your eyes as the sunlight filtered through the window, and it made you feel warmer than you already felt.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, but we’re already at school." You looked outside, and he was right; you saw Karasuno in the near distance. 

Your brain processed the fact that Sugawara, a third year from Karasuno’s volleyball team, was sitting next to you. You saw his blurred figure lean next to you, and he brushed some hair out of your face. His fingers grazed against your forehead, but he quickly froze. 

"Y/N- Y/N! Why is your forehead so hot?" He studied your face with concerned eyes, noticing how tired you looked.

"Hm? No, it’s not. It wasn’t that high when I checked... probably the sunlight..." you mumbled, leaning on the back of your bus seat behind you. You put a hand on your forehead, and it confirmed that you were indeed burning up; it was considerably warmer than earlier in the morning. You groaned and got up.

"You don’t look too good, don't you think you should go home-" Sugawara started, but you interrupted him.

"No, you need your manager today, you guys have a game soon," you said, your tone tired but strict. Sugawara eyed you anxiously, but you waved him off. "I'll be fine," you reassured him. Grabbing your backpack, you got up from your seat, heading for the bus’ exit.

Woah.

You knew you were sick, but you didn't think you would be this dizzy. Everything seemed to sway to one side, and you put one arm on the seat of the bus, leaning on it for support. You rested your head on your arm, and you felt Sugawara’s arm wrapping around you for support.

“Alright, now you have no choice. You’re taking a break, whether you like it or not, clearly something’s not okay,” he told you, and you were too lightheaded to argue. You just nodded along and he helped you back into your seat. 

You clutched your head as you tried to make everything go away. Sugawara went to talk to the bus driver in the background, and miraculously, the driver made an exception for you.

“We’re ahead of schedule anyways,” the bus driver reasoned. He turned the bus around, heading back towards your house.

“Okay, now that that’s done, you can sleep if you want to. You could probably use the rest, I can only imagine how tired you are...” Sugawara said softly, and you gave a small nod. You scooted further down into the seats, making enough space for the boy to sit next to you. He gladly obliged, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you drifting off to sleep. Your head subconsciously drifted onto his shoulder, but he didn’t mind.

“Hey, Koushi?” you mumbled, your voice coated with sleepiness.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... I just wanted to thank you.” Your eyes remained closed, and Sugawara couldn’t tell if the blush on your face was from your fever... or something else? 

“You need to take breaks, you know. You work really hard, it’s a wonder you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he said, half jokingly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and finally fell asleep.

Kuroo found you in the classrooms; your head was down, and your headache was terrible. You were almost asleep; you were trying your best to stay awake, and you weren't sure how long you could keep it up.

He was walking down the halls, casually glancing into your classroom to see if you were finished, and he softly smiled at the sight of you.

"Tired, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, smirking as he tapped your shoulder.

"Hm?" You lifted your head up, surprised at the unexpected touch. "Oh- Kuroo, shut up," you replied, rolling your eyes as you stretched. He laughed and grabbed your backpack for you, slinging it over his own shoulder.

“Ready for practice?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, and the two of you walked to the gym.

Your head was killing you with every step you took, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You looked to the distance, trying to ease your headache. Kuroo’s voice was slowly melting into background noise. 

Suddenly you froze and stopped walking, earning a curious glance from Kuroo. You were forgetting something...

“Wait- where’s my... backpack?” You spotted it on the boy next to you, and you shook your head. “Sorry, forgot that you had it,” you said, with a sheepish laugh.

“Something wrong?” he frowned. “You’re acting distracted... more distracted than usual, anyways.” You shook your head, deciding to keep your sickness to yourself.

“I’m good, just tired,” you assured him. He nodded slowly, and walked into the gym, you following close behind.

Only you, Kuroo, and the coaches were in the gym; you were early. You flashed a quick smile as you waved hello.

"Great, you guys are early. I have a couple strategies to discuss," the coach said, gesturing to a whiteboard in front of him. The two of you nodded, and he began to explain.

"Alright... if we're going to win this next match..." he started, but you couldn't make yourself pay attention. The only thing on your mind was how your head wouldn't stop hurting, everything seemed to echo, and just overall how sick you felt.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. You snapped out of your sleepy state at the sound of your name.

“Wha-” You blinked, looking around at all of the eyes on you. You tried to remember what the others were talking about... oh. Strategies. Right. "I just think we... we need to..." You looked at thr whiteboard, but you couldn't focus. You swayed to one side, blinking hard. The world really seemed like it was tilting to one side... "Woah, sorry-" you tried to say.

"Y/N?" You saw Kuroo reach out towards you as you slowly lowered down into a fetal position, resting your head on your knees. "Hey, Y/N? You okay?" You swallowed.

"Yea- yeah. Just... give me a second," you breathed. You felt Kuroo kneel down next to you, and you were right; someone's arm wrapped around you for support, and you knew it was Kuroo's. You knew you were safe as you lost consciousness, falling further into his arms.

...

You awoke, and the first thought was how bright the gym lights were... they weren't this bright before...

"Oh- Y/N! You're awake," Kuroo said, rushing over to you. He put the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're still burning..." he said with a frown.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I don't know, I've been sick all day and I guess I couldn’t handle it..."

"Why didn't you tell me you weren’t feeling well?" he asked, concern clear in his voice. You smiled softly.

"It wasn't important... besides I have manager duties to take care of," you said with a sigh.

"Not if I can help it." He picked you up in one swift motion bridal-style, smirking as you struggled to get down. "I'm not letting you down; I'm taking you home and getting you some proper medicine for this fever of yours. Health is more important than volleyball." You huffed and flopped into his arms in defeat.

"Fine." You leaned closer into Kuroo's chest, and he smiled, satisfied with your surrender.

"That's my girl." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile.

A/N: THESE WERE NOT THE BEST- I ADMIT BDHDDJNDJEW

hopefully these weren't too bad though-

haikyuu taglist: (send an ask to get added hehe) @floralkawa <3

MWAHH THANK YOU FOR READING!!

#hqradiostation #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #sugawara x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #kuroo tetsurou #sugawara koushi #kuroo fluff #kuroo scenarios #sugawara fluff #sugawara scenarios #kuroo tetsurou x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #kuroo headcanons #sugawara headcanons

[soccerximagines]

I've got a harsh idea! One with Marcus where his mum doesn't like you at all and thinks your with him for the fame and money so she offers you money in exchange for you to break up with Marcus. You don't take the money but you couldn't trample on all pride and still stay with her son so you break up with him but you don't even have a proper explanation because you were fine just in the morning. You pack up and leave Manchester to go back to London where you're originally born and raised. He cries to his mum but she obv doesn't tell him why until after a few weeks of trying to get you to back, understand what caused this, and just being totally heartbroken. She notices that he's really slipping without you and realises how much you mean to him. She confesses what had happened to him, after a month of being apart and he's mad but doesn't waste a time before coming over to yours to confront you about it, mad at you for not telling him too but then you make up and you're relationship is stronger than ever before. Thank you Xx

Mother-in-law

"Excuse me?" The disbelief clear in your voice as you spoke. You couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.

When Marcus's mom invited you out for lunch you were happy. You knew she didn't particularly like you, and naively enough you thought this could be a chance for the two of you to bond a little.

But here she sat, offering you money; a lot of money even, for breaking up with her son. Clearly she didn't have bonding in mind when she invited you here today, you thought to yourself - still in shock.

"Don't act so shocked, it was clear from the beginning that it was money and fame you wanted," his mother scoffed, rolling her eyes at you.

You knew her first impression of you hadn't been the best. A couple of months into your relationship with Marcus you experienced some problems with the shower in your apartment. Some sort of leakage made it unlivable. Luckily it was quickly fixed by a plumber, the only problem being that the bill ended up being £1000.

The bill had been stressing you out for weeks as you picked up extra shifts to try to pay it off. You were overworking yourself to the maximum and eventually Marcus had interfered and offered to help you pay it. After declining several times, you eventually accepted; on the condition that it would be a loan.

For you, a full time student with a part time job as a waitress, it was a lot of money and you were grateful for his help. For Marcus, a professional athlete with a ridiculous amount of money, it was nothing. For his mom however, it was proof that you were only with Marcus for his money.

Since then your relationship with Marcus had evolved significantly, and you had even moved into his apartment. Still, no matter how serious the two of you became - his mother never warmed up to you.

"I'll be honest with you, Melanie," you spoke up - trying to save whatever dignity you had left. "I love your son, and I never quite understood why you dislike me so much. I don't want your money, but I also don't want to be the reason why Marcus has to choose between me and his family. Family means the world to him. So you win; I'll leave."

And that's exactly what you did. Rushing back to your shared place, tears brewing in your eyes, you quickly packed up your belongings. It took some time, and you prayed you would finish before Marcus came home from training. You knew that if you saw him you wouldn't be able to leave. He would ask why you were sad, and when you would tell him, he would be furious - and he would choose you over his family. But he shouldn't have to choose.

You then travelled to the train station and jumped on the first train back home to London - back to the comfort of your family. Only when you went to bed that night, laying in your childhood room, did you allow yourself to cry.

The next month was hard for you, but even harder for Marcus. He thought things were great between the two of you; the ring he had been carrying around in his pockets was proof of that. But then you had just left him, no explanation, not even a goodbye.

He thought about the day you left daily, picking it apart and analyzing it - trying to find a reason for why you left. But he couldn't think of anything. You had eaten take away and watched movies the night before. He had woken up and gotten ready for practice in the morning, just like he did every day. You had kissed goodbye, talking about what you would eat for dinner when he came back. Nothing out of the ordinary.

His mother visited him nearly daily, comforting her son as he cried over you for hours. It pained her to do so, and as the days went by she started realizing her own mistake. It was clear to her now that your relationship had more depth that she had thought. The final drop was when she, after a month, learned that Marcus was going to propose. She knew she had to make things right.

"Listen, Marcus, I got to tell you something, and you're not going to like what I have to say."

It was a regular Wednesday evening, about a month after your breakup with Marcus. You were sitting inside, watching some baking competition on the telly, and eating chocolate - feeling pretty sorry for yourself.

Your parents had gone out for dinner, whilst you refused to join, so when the doorbell rang you felt confused.

Opening the door you were met by Marcus standing outside while holding up a diamond ring. "Marry me?"

"What?" You couldn't believe what was happening. Only seconds ago you never thought you would see Marcus again, and here he was - proposing to you?

"My mom told me everything, Y/N, and I'm so furious with her. At first I was angry at you too for just walking away, I still kind of am, but I had a lot of time to think while traveling here; and I realized that I love you so so much and I want to marry you-"

You interrupted him with a deep kiss, wrapping your arms around him.

"Yes, I'll marry you!"

#fanfiction #soccer #fanfic #football #marcus rashford fanfiction #marcus rashford imagines #marcus rashford one shot #marcus rashford #marcus #rashford #england national football team #manchester united #fluff #angst with a happy ending #football imagines #football one shots #football imagine #football fanfiction #soccer imagines #request

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Eight (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

Sorry for such a long delay!! It’s my little boy’s first birthday this week so I’ve been running around making arrangements and picking up last minute presents! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. It’s only 3K words, but it is a build up ready for the next chapter which will contain smut! Not full blown smut (I don’t think Mycroft is ready for that yet!) but still smutty nonetheless!

I will separate the smutty bit enough so that you can skip it if you want, but it will be referenced later on in that chapter!

Word Count- 3062

This morning differed from the last few that you had experienced since staying at Mycroft's home, namely because Mycroft had awoken before you this time, but also because it was the first morning you had ever been awoken by long fingers prodding at your forehead. That and also because, despite last night's late events, you managed to arise at a reasonable 9am.

"Did you know there are a lot nicer ways to wake somebody up?" You questioned, opening your eyes to see Mycroft staring at you with a slight frown to his brow. He retracted his hand slightly and shifted to sit a little higher.

"You know, Sherlock as a child once woke me in a similar way. I felt small scratches on my eyebrows and woke up to see him crouched over me with a smug little grin on his face. As it turns out, he had slipped sleeping pills into my cup of tea before bed and in my slumber covered my eyebrows in toothpaste." You covered your mouth with your hand and snorted slightly. "He'd come in to see if there was anything left beneath them, which, of course, there wasn't.. claimed it was just an experiment. I'd like to laugh and be more dignified about it upon looking back, but I struggle because he was only six and already a sod."

"Okay, you've proven there are in fact worse ways to wake up." You didn't make big deals out of it, but every time Mycroft welcomed you a little more into the stories of his youth, you can't help but feel your heart warm. It may not seem like much, but coming from Mycroft, a very private man who hasn't been treated the best over the years, it meant everything. You stretched and moved your hands up to rub your eyes, flinching a little as your fingers brushed against the bit of your head above your eyebrows. "Bugger." You winced, poking again and feeling a small lump.

"I was going to warn you but you laughed at my traumatic eyebrow removal story." You groaned and recalled your memory of last night and where you believe the bruise originated from.

"I jumped into bed last night sulking a bit that you wouldn't talk to me and uh.. misjudged.." Mycroft snickered slightly from your side, you swatted his arm. "Tit. I'm blaming you. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't go all Han Solo in carbonite on me." You spoke playfully, letting him know you weren't truly peeved.

"I thought you said it was cute?"

"That was clearly a concussion talking." You stretched once more and climbed out of the bed, walking over to a mirror above a dressing table and rolling your eyes. "Might need your special government powers to clear out the cafe else Ms Woodall will think we've had a domestic." Bernice Woodall, owner of one of your favourite little cafes settled on the outskirts of St James' Park was a very.. particular lady. She could have a good laugh one moment, and start a quarrel with a customer over the amount they stir their tea the next. But, you'd have to admit, she has one hell of an all day breakfast menu; you could practically taste one of her omelettes just by thinking about it, making your stomach growl loudly.

"I would but, if I am to be very honest, she genuinely scares me a little. I think she could overthrow MI5 so I daren't even try." You stood and moved into Mycroft's bedroom, grabbing your bag of clothes and picking through a few of the pairs of your jeans Anthea had brought and scanning through the t-shirts. Your fingers brushed over the creases of the shirt that had formed from being stuffed in the bag and frowned.

"Perhaps it would be more suitable for you to pop those in one of the chest of drawers? I'm sure I have at least one drawer empty.." Myc's voice came from behind you and you fell from your crouching position, clutching your heart.

"You and your bloody spy legs, you just scared the shit out of me." You stood back up, your pile of today's clothes in one hand and the bag of the rest in the other. "Giving me a drawer in your place already? Ooh Myc you are serious." You grinned playfully, following him as he guided you to a set of drawers in the opposite corner of the room. Mycroft halted and opened his mouth to make some kind of comment but you cut him off, placing your folded clothes inside the Edwardian furniture. "Only teasing.. I'm just glad you haven't kicked me out yet. Though I don't think my own bed will ever feel as comfortable as yours. I might not want to go back now you've spoilt me, you'll just have to be blunt when you're bored of me." You winked at him and carried your outfit into the en suite bathroom to get ready. Mycroft headed over to his wardrobe to pluck out his own clothes, electing to remain somewhat casual for your trip to breakfast with a pair of navy chinos and a lighter blue button up before muttering slightly under his breath.

"And if I never am?"

In the rare parts of his life where he allowed to imagine himself getting into a relationship, Mycroft had never expected himself to be overwhelmed with so much emotion so quickly, but with you it was almost as though he had no control; as though there had been so many pent up feelings over the years that they just seem to have exploded without any rational thought behind it. And whilst these were all new to Mycroft, and how he still wasn't entirely sure about everything that he felt when it came to things with you, the only thing he was positive about was that he didn't want it to go. And that meant not wanting you to leave. Which was ridiculous. You had just under two weeks left together until you would be needed back at work, and he would have to return to fighting on Britain's behalf, but the thought of you not being at home to greet him when he finished, or him not being able to pick you up in one of his cars from the Yard to take you both home made him feel a sense of disappointment. He shook himself from his thoughts when you emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.

"On second thoughts, I may take the risk. I'm not sure I can have members of the general public associating me with a Sex Pistols fan, no matter how humerous you may believe that top to be." You walked out proudly wearing your 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt with a grin. "You are aware tha-"

"That when the Sex Pistols released their song 'God Save the Queen' in 1977 it was around the same time of The Queen's silver jubilee and thus it was banned for a while on the premise of being 'bad gross taste'? You've only mentioned it every time I wear this shirt.. Though if your research extended enough then you'd know Paul Cook said it wasn't written specifically FOR the jubilee.. So if one of Lizzie's spies catch me in the act, I shall make a very sincere apology." Mycroft took his own clothes into the bathroom to get ready himself and scoffed.

"But I AM one of 'Lizzie's Spies'." He mused, leaning slightly against the doorframe after settling the outfit on the counter. You turned around on your heel and stood up on your tiptoes, pushed him more forcefully against the doorframe and placed your hands on Mycroft's cheeks, pressing your lips softly against his. His shock subsided before he kissed you tentatively, his hand resting on your lower back. You pulled away after a moment and ushered him into the bathroom to get ready, closing the door behind you and leaving him still slightly red faced and confused.

"Consider that my sincere apology." You headed over to the dresser and began to tie up your hair. "But hurry up, I'm starving." You called, moving the hairbrush too low and brushing against your bruise, making you wince loudly. From the bathroom, you heard Mycroft's voice before the sound of him brushing his teeth.

"Head?"

"Well I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast, but who knows what the day will bring." You heard the sound of Mycroft choking on his toothpaste and wished to whatever deity out there that you could have seen his face. Yes, you had promised to try and be less overbearing with your comments but he walked into that one. You grinned and sat down on the side of the bed, briefly scanning through your phone before Mycroft emerged, his face still burnt a red as deep as the burgundy sweatshirt he had paired with his outfit. The fact he had come out at all at least let you know that your joke hadn't taken it too far.

"You're a minx."

"And you wouldn't change it. Now let's go!"

---

Only 20 minutes later had you both be found sitting comfortably in Ms Woodall's cafe, tucking into your respective meals- with you noticing, but not commenting on, Mycroft eating comfortably until the last bite of toast was gone, a sense of pride warming within you. Not too long after, Bernice herself headed over to clear up your tables.

"I trust everything was up to standard?" She asked, piling your plates onto her little trolley and offering top ups on your drinks.

"Splendid as usual, Ms Woodall." Mycroft smiled, accepting his new cup of tea and cradling it comfortably between his long fingers.

"Still proving to be our favourite place for breakfast." You praised, your hand reaching out to fondly brush against Mycroft's before taking your coffee into hand. Bernice watched your movements and raised her brow knowingly.

"Took the pair of you long enough. I had been half tempted to abstain from feeding you here until I got one of you to say something, it had started making me feel a bit sick watching you eye each other up each time you'd get up to order something." You rested your elbow on the table, hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh.

"Yes, well, I can't promise you the ogling will stop on my behalf." You teased.

"And why should it? Mr Holmes in those posh little outfits is enough to make anyone swoon." And with that she had headed back out into the kitchen again.

"There you go, Myc. Should anything happen to me, my replacement is only round the corner."

"Mmm, and she does make a rather good cup of tea. Perhaps I shouldn't wait that long." His lip raised slightly in a smirk as he took a sip of his hot beverage.

"Oh really? Need I start getting possessive; stand my ground?" Before Mycroft could quip back, Ms Woodall had returned with a plate of biscuits in hand.

"Means you've already answered my next question, anywho." She hummed, placing the plate down between you and perching on the corner of the table beside yours. The pair of you gave her a questioning look and she continued, pointing up to her own forehead. "Tony and I were just as bad at the start of our marriage. Anywhere and everywhere we could get our hands on each other, I ended up with bumps and scrapes from alleys, the backs of cars, even in that one restaurant toilet that time.." You choked on your coffee and Mycroft all but dropped his teacup. "Oh don't act so ignorant, even us oldies had sex in their time." Your eyes caught Mycroft's and you could see him stifling down a laugh, biting softly on his knuckle- which, in itself, shouldn't have been as attractive to you as it was, but it is what it is.

"And with that thought, we best be off. Got a movie date planned." You commented, coughing down your own laugh as Bernice continued.

"Though to be fair it never stopped, all that spontaneity. Even towards the end, he could be like a lad of nineteen with how it was. God the positions, you'd have mistaken me for a gymnast and he could last for ages. I'd just lie there wondering 'will this pleasure never end'?" You could feel tears prick at your eyes as your laughter began to break through. "And then of course once Tony passed a couple years ago it all stopped. Shame really, all those years together, ending how it did.. Though sometimes I'm not sure if it's him that I miss or his massiv-"

"Ms Woodall we really should be going, thank you for breakfast." Mycroft hastily threw a few £20 notes on the table, far too much to cover your meal but enough to distract Bernice while tugging your hand and beelining for the door. Once safely distanced from the apparent nymphomaniac cafe owner you had to stop in your tracks to let out a laugh, Mycroft's hand still in yours as you doubled over.

"I can't believe she said that! She's so open."

"Evidently." Mycroft's comment set you off again, his laughter following, ignoring how you caught the attention of a few people passing by. "I do hope you are in no rush for breakfast there again any time soon, I don't think I can look her in the eye for a good while."

"Still so sure on replacing me with her so soon? I think she'd break you."

"Or turn me into a whore." You snorted and settled back to walking.

---

"Drink?"

"Please. Tea, hold the sexual history."

"I'll try my very best, though, much like my tea, I imagine my list would be abysmal in comparison to old Ms Woodall." You flicked on the kettle, eager to replace the half drunk coffee you had discarded on the cafe table in your escape from listening about pensioner sex. "Will you load up the movie?"

"No. But I shall get the film ready to go.. How the American dialect found its way back to England will never fail to disappoint me." You had followed him into the room shortly after, mugs on the table and settled on the sofa beside Mycroft.

"You know, typically, when people elect for a movie day, they don't choose the tenth movie in the series to watch first." You grinned, tucking your legs beneath your body in an attempt to get comfortable. You continued your shuffling movements and heard Mycroft's voice.

"I believe we both agree that Carry On Cleo is the superior of the 31 movies for, well, a multitude of reasons." He trailed.

"I shan't object. It's sweet that you remember it's the first one we watched together.. Had it not been for you hearing Kenneth's famous 'Infamy, infamy' line persuading you to come over, I fear that I'd have been set up with one of Greg's mates by now, sitting in a pub nursing a G+T."

"I never said I remembered that."

"You didn't have to. You and I both know that your favourite was always Carry on Camping."

"Yes, well.. Opinions change with experience."

"Is this our equivalent of a patronus? Yours has changed and matched with mine? Very cute, Myc. Might I expect you in a 'Never Mind the Bollocks' shirt next week?" You teased, electing to lay down with your head lightly using Mycroft's thigh as a pillow, feeling grateful when he didn't shove you off with a comment about ruining the linen of his trousers, and instead took to softly brushing his fingers over your head, narrowly missing the purple bump each time.

"You'd have better chances of catching me running naked down the street."

"Is that a promise?" A flick to your forehead.

"Just play the bloody film."

---

By the time the film had finished, your cheeks had hurt from smiling and your eyelids had felt heavy. Whilst getting up at a reasonable hour had felt like an achievement this morning, the lack of sleep from the previous night was beginning to catch up to you.

"Myc? Would it be entirely improper to nap on the sofa when there are multiple reasonable beds upstairs before continuing our films?"

"Only about as improper as it is to have a midday nap when you're not a young child." You shifted your head from his lap and sat up, ignoring the fact that you actually did end up ruining the linen of his trousers with the crease of your skull.

"Let me rephrase. Mycroft, would you be willing to break your proper posh boy streak and nap with me on the sofa?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to deviate from one's usual behaviours in order to satisfy those one holds dear."

"That's a yes, right? Good, lay down, else I may just collapse right at this moment." Mycroft's sofa certainly was a significantly bit bigger than those usually found in somebody's front room, but it was still nowhere near wide enough for two people to lay with distance. Even still, he followed your request and rotated his body, lifting his long legs to rest down the side of the sofa while you slid into the gap beside him. He eventually circled his arm beneath you and rested his hand on your hip, your face softly brushing against the comforting material of his jumper. "If you drop me, I will be holding you accountable." You mumbled, shifting your body closer to his. He merely hummed, his hand slightly bunching in your shirt and his arm tightening. "I'd always hoped you were secretly a cuddler."

"Make a point of it or tell Sherlock and I'll throw you off." You couldn't even think of a witty comeback before your slumber had taken over, the smell of Mycroft and the sounds of him breathing overstimulating your senses. Mycroft being a secret cuddler hadn't been as much of a shock to you as it probably should have, but you welcome it completely and feel incredibly thankful that he trusts you enough to let you be that close to him, to feel his body in such a way. And you would embrace that- and him- as long as he would let you.

#mycroft holmes #mycroft #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x you #reader insert #mycroft smut #mycroft holmes smut #mycroft holmes x reader smut #mycroft holmes x you smut #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #bbc mycroft holmes x reader #bbc mycroft holmes x you #bbc mycroft holmes x reader smut #bbc mycroft holmes x you smut #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #greg lestrade #gregory lestrade #lestrade #moriarty #jim moriarty #james moriarty #john watson #doctor watson

[itsnothesameasitwas]

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk... #fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :) #hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

[caramelcal]

His Favorite Secret.

“I’m tired of being your secret.”

You can find the rest of the prompts here.

i really took this and ran with it huh...IT’S 4.3K WORDS

warnings: mentions of sex, gangs, alcohol, bondage

kinda obsessed with this gang!luke idea. also, i’m not sure if i wanna make “bambi” the reader or an oc, it works as either i believe? bambi is a nickname btw and i honestly feel like making more parts based on this concept tbh 

kinda wanna make another part LMAO idk what i’d do it on though </3

Luke was better to her than anything you could possibly expect. He was surprisingly gentle when it came to her, hugging and caressing her that seemed impossible for the way he was and the life he lived. People saw Luke as the 6-foot-odd man that could rip you apart without an issue, without even breaking a sweat but he was so much more than that.

He was so much more than the leather jacket-wearing gangster that everyone depicted him as; heartless and stoic. He was a great lover if he let people in, and she had never been loved that way with anyone before. Surely though, with his life, there were complications to their relationship.

He was different from other people, more violent, more dangerous. The gang, which was run by Luke and three of his closest friends, Calum, Ashton and Michael, was well-known and feared among many, but they were left alone by the police. The police were aware that they existed, but they didn’t do anything about it. There were more cons to arresting them than there were pros.

Luke’s life made everything very interesting. He was rich, of course, and after a while of them dating she had moved into his condo. It was massive, bigger than any house she had ever lived in before and it was just for the two of them. It was a luxurious life that she had not experienced before, and she was still getting used to it.

If there was one thing about Luke that she had learned, it was that buying her things was his love language. He never had been great at the romantic side of their relationship considering he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time and normally just had one-night stands, but he tried his best. That didn’t meant that he ever softened up during sex, though. 

Another thing about his life that made stuff interesting was that Luke had to drop things for work. Sometimes stuff would go wrong on a run, or other gangs would try stuff with them and he would have to leave. It was understandable, but still frustrating for her, especially the one time where an emergency had occurred right in the middle of them having sex.

Luke had been very busy the past few weeks, having to deal with numerous issues with the gang and barely having enough time to spend with the needy girl who craved his attention. There had been issues in the club, that was what he had said, but he didn’t go into much detail on the matter, he never did. He liked to keep his relationship and gang life very separate from one another. 

A lot of the mornings this week she had woke up alone, void of the warmth she liked to cuddle into in the morning. At least she was getting him all to herself this weekend, she thought. After barely spending anytime with her that weekend, Luke had promised they would spend the weekend together, even if the club was set on fire. Calum, Ash and Mike will deal with it. 

“Bambi?” The nickname fell from his lips when he stepped in the front door. She brought her eyes up to look at him, happiness filling her features. She hadn’t been expecting him home for another few hours, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

Running over to him, she jumped, knowing full well that he would catch her as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her head snaked into the nape of his neck, comfortingly taking in the scent of her favorite person, his arms holding her protectively close to his body. They were alone, thankfully enough. After all, she really hadn’t thought out her jumping hug because her short skirt had ridden up, showing off her underwear which Luke most definitely would be furious if anyone but him saw.

“Welcome home,” She whispered into his neck, hand coming up to play with the hair on the back of his neck. Her eyes fluttered, eyelashes tickling the skin on Luke’s neck as he rubbed her back, taking in the comfort of having the smaller girl in his arms.

He walked forward so that he was fully in the house, using his leg to kick the door shut behind him before walking towards the middle of the room near the couch. He slowly lowered himself until he was sitting down on the plush cushions, the girl now in his lap, still being held closely.

“Bambi?” Luke started, making sure that the girl was listening, to which she hummed into the side of his neck, not willing to move just yet, “I know you wanna hug and kiss and stuff right now but we don’t have much time to pack your bags, you have to stay at the safe house for a few days.”

Almost immediately, the warmth of her face was gone from his neck, and her hands were no longer playing with his hair. She was still held tightly on his lap, mostly because he held her there with a semi-firm grip, her looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows and sad eyes.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. In fact, it had happened quite a few times and each time it made her rather frustrated. She had to remove every single piece of evidence that she even existed in the apartment, and get hidden away in a safe house for the entire weekend, on the edge of town, where she wasn’t allowed to leave until Luke got her himself.

She hated the safe house.

“But you said-”

“Bambi,” Luke cut her off rather firmly, sending her a look which she knew meant that there were no arguments in this. She almost wanted to whine, to argue with Luke and tell him that he said this was going to be their weekend together, just them, no gang stuff, but now she wasn’t even going to get to see him at all this weekend, “I need to have a few low levels over to go over plans, and they’ll be over tomorrow which means we can’t let them know you’re here or that you exist. They still can’t fully be trusted yet, which means that they could be moles and I’m not putting you at risk for that.”

His speech was ended in a soft tone, looking down at her with a small amount of sadness for the girl. His hand comfortingly raked through her hair, piercing blue eyes looking at her but her eyes stay looking down. Slowly, without saying anything, she climbed off of his lap and started to retreat to their bedroom.

“Bambi? Where you goin, baby?” He called out, looking at the girl who stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder.

“I’m packing. That’s what you wanted me to do, was it not?”      

Not many words were exchanged afterward with the girl silently packing away every aspect of her life into two duffle bags. She wasn’t even allowed to properly live in her own house, no decorations, photos in frames, nothing. Everything she owned had to be easily removable so it looked like she didn’t even exist in her own home.

Luke watched her from the bedroom door, leaning against the frame coolly as he analyzed her movements. He knew she was frustrated, but she had to know he was doing this to protect her, she should have anyway. Rather harshly, she finally zipped up the duffle bags, throwing them over her shoulder and walking straight past Luke without acknowledging him.

He understood that she was frustrated, but was she really angry at him?

She was quickly at the door, grasping at the handle when Luke had snapped out of his thoughts, walking over to her quickly with ease, taking a grip on her arm.

“You okay?”

“Dandy,” She replied bluntly, looking away from the slightly concerned man, almost as if she was itching to get away from him. Normally, even if she wasn’t happy about being sent away to the safe house, she still gave him a goodbye kiss, but it appeared that he wasn’t going to get one of those tonight, “Gotta go. Wouldn’t want to keep Jacob waiting, would we?”

She walked out of the apartment without another word, but Luke’s eyes were on her retreating figure, “We’ll speak about this on Sunday, okay baby?”

He barely even seen the nod that she sent him before she disappeared down the hallway.

. . . “Please, Jacob,” She pleaded with the driver, with puppy eyes and everything but he tried his best to remain stony-faced. Jacob was the only driver that Luke trusted Bambi with, he had grown up with the boys too, childhood friends with Michael apparently, who Bambi had never even met before.

Jacob was the leading driver for the gang, one of the getaway drivers for bigger and more important heists or events, but normally he just got called in for private transport of any important members of the gang. He, as well as practically anyone who had ever met the girl, had a soft spot for her, and she knew that.

“You do realize if I take you there that I am directly disobeying orders of the leader of one of the biggest gangs in California?” He asked ridiculously, shaking his head with his hands placed firmly on the wheel.

“Jacob-”

“No,” He replied firmly, looking at the girl through the rearview mirror, seeing her begging eyes and sad face.

The man knew that everything was frustrating for the girl, especially when she had to get up and move out of her own house just so that Luke could host meetings and debriefings for the gang.

“Please, Jacob. I’m going to be cooped up in a safe house for three days without talking to anyone, at least let me go to Anna’s for a few hours. She’s been my best friend since I was three, she’s trustworthy.”

The black-haired man didn’t reply for several moments, and a frown fell onto the girl’s face before he started to signal off the highway. It was a familiar road, the one that she had taken many times before to her best friend’s house, and honestly, she had never been happier to see it. At least she would get some enjoyment this weekend.

“Thank you so much, Jacob, just tell me how I can repay you,” The girl said once she was out of the car, bouncing lightly in excitement while she stared at the man who was still inside the car.

He gave her a small smile, one that showed he knew how much appreciation she felt towards him before his eyes turned to the door behind her, “Just enjoy yourself and make sure he doesn’t fire me for this.”

“Consider it done.”

It was nice to see Anna again, it had been two weeks since their last meet up and they had both missed each other greatly. Anna was drinking alcohol, but the smaller girl wasn’t. It wasn’t like she was afraid of what Luke would say if she did, because she certainly wasn’t afraid of Luke, but even though she was angry she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Not that she had exactly abided by his rules anyway, considering she was with Anna right now instead of locked inside the safe house. The safe house had slowly become the girl’s own personal prison, it was bare, bland, and had nothing for her to entertain herself, and there was no company. That’s what she hated most about it, the lack of social interactions she could have while she was in there.

“-we were talking about the weather and shit right? Then he asked to see my tits! I was like are you being serious right now?” Anna rambled on, talking about another failed love interest that had been using her for her body. Anna never seemed to be lucky in the dating apartment of life, but she was a successful girl, and a beautiful one at that, she would get there. 

“Was he?”

Anna scoffed, taking another drink of her alcohol, “Yeah! He blocked me after I sent him pictures of minecraft chests and asked him what ones were his favourite.”

The smaller girl let out a laugh, looking at her best friend who had a sly grin on her face, trying to hide it with the glass in her hands. 

“Speaking of guys though, how’s Mr. Hemmings then?” Anna jokingly asked the girl, cocking an eyebrow with a smirk on her face, swaying to the music that was loudly playing in the background.

“He’s good, I mean he’s doing good,” The smaller girl quickly corrected herself before her dirty-minded friend could make a joke about their sex life or ask about it. Anna hummed lightly, still smug and still swaying to the music, “I was supposed to be going to the safe house, but I’m here instead, I don’t think he’s very happy.”

“Girl, you’ve been here for nearly two hours!” Anna cried out in shock, eyes wide at the clear defiance that the small girl had for her 6-foot-odd gang leader boyfriend.

“And?”

“He’s bound to know by now! He’s not going to bust through my doors with his gang and shoot the place down is he?”

The girl shrugged lazily in reply, letting some of her hair fall in front of her face as she smiled at her friend, “Yeah he does know, he’s been blowing up my phone for an hour and a half.”

Anna fell dramatically against the back of the couch, hand still tight around her glass of lemonade and pink gin. Her free hand was laying across her forehead with her eyes shut, “Oh please tell me you’ve replied.”

“Nope.”

“Oh come on, I really like my door, believe it or not, I don’t want him or any of his gang members kicking it down!” Anna cried out, giving her best friend a pout to which she just laughed lightly in response.

“He won’t knock your door down, he probably won’t even come. He’s too busy debriefing his gang to even spend time with me and instead shipped me out of the house. Why does he care whether it’s yours or the safe house?”

However, she couldn’t have been more wrong because less than ten minutes later they heard a roaring engine speeding down the road. Anna, who shared a quick look with the smaller girl, got up and looked out the window, seeing no other than Luke gets out of his very expensive sports car and towards the house, “Guess you were wrong.”

He threw the door open, thankfully not breaking it down, his eyes quickly landing on the small girl, grabbing her and pulling her off of the couch, planting her by his side. His grip was tight on either side of her hips, almost as if it was a warning to stay by his side and cooperate for once in her life.

“Anna,” His accented voice wrung through the room as he gave the blonde a curt nod. She waved back awkwardly, maybe too hazed by the alcohol in her system to stay anything intelligible back, and Luke seemed to realize this, “don’t stay up too late, get a good sleep, okay?”

“Aye captain, yes sir,” She saluted him back with a smile on her lips, almost diffusing the tension in the room but it was barely a second later where Luke’s grip retightened on his girlfriend’s hips.

“Okay, good night.” He bid her farewell, walking out of the house with his slightly anxious girlfriend behind him. It seemed as if suddenly she was filled with regret and guilt, especially after seeing how angry Luke was with her.

“It isn’t Jacob’s fault I-” She started when the door shut behind them, the cold wind of the night surrounding her.

“Don’t,” He spoke gruffly, turning around to look down at her with angry blue eyes before grabbing onto her wrist and dragging her over to his car.

Luke hadn’t even locked his car when he had rushed inside to Anna’s house, not that he would be too bothered anyway, it wasn’t like anyone was going to steal the gang leader’s car, especially not in this neighborhood. He didn’t speak another word to the girl as he took her around to her side of the car, letting her get in before he leaned over and strapped her in, closing the door without a single word and getting in his own side.

He started the car up and the only noise heard in the car was the engine as it roared to life and they began to speed down the street. His blond hair was messy, jaw ticking with his eyes glued to the road, never once straying to the girl in the passenger’s seat. Her eyes, however, never strayed from him, picking up every sign that he was furious with her. His posture was rigid, he was impatient, breathing loudly and not even acknowledging her existence beside her; he was seething.

She wasn’t sure if they arrived too fast or too slow to the safe house honestly. Luke still didn’t utter a word, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. She knew not to move already, she knew that Luke didn’t want her to move and honestly she didn’t want to aggravate him further.

True to her belief, Luke opened her car door, undoing her seatbelt before pulling her out of the car. His eyes didn’t stay on her as he stormed into the house, a tight grip on the smaller girl’s wrist. She tried to get his attention, for him to say anything to her as he entered the house but it appeared he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

The main room was still dark, but just the feeling of being in here makes her feel sick. She wasn’t overexaggerating when she said how much she hated the safe house. It felt as if she was defeated, back where she didn’t want to be, somewhere she hated, and with her boyfriend furious at her.

In the time that she had been thinking of how much she loathed the building she stood in, Luke had let go of her wrist and wordlessly made his way towards the front door again. The thought of him leaving her here, frustrated and alone all weekend made annoyance bubble in her stomach and before she can help herself she’s shouting over at him, “So that’s it? Are you just going to lock me in here and leave again?”

Luke stilled, but he doesn’t bother to reply or even look at his girlfriend, just standing there like a statue. She can’t find it in herself to regret the words that come out of her mouth, especially after she awaits the nonexistent reply, causing annoyance to bluster in her stomach. Her eyes roll and her arms flail slightly before they slap against her thighs with a low scoff falling out of her lips, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?” Luke turned around, his voice hard and powerful, one that would normally make her shake, make her look up at him with wide eyes unsure of what to say. Their eyes meet, his blue piercing into hers. He took a step forward, tilting his head slightly with an eyebrow raised, almost as if he’s encouraging her to repeat what she had said moments before, “What did you say, Bambi?”

Her mouth was agape as she stuttered lightly, any feeling of bravery that she had mere seconds ago fizzling away into nothingness. Her eyes darted from one of his eyes to the other, looking at the expectant and slightly smug face as he looked at the stuttering girl in front of him. She tried her best to find the right words to say but she had, ultimately, been rendered speechless.

“Come on, if you’re so big and brave, baby, why don’t you speak up a little? Tell me what you said.” He walked towards her until he’s right in front of her, chests barely ten centimeters apart. Two of his fingers make their way under her chin, pushing her face up until she had no other choice but to look him in the eye, holding her face in such a way that she can’t move easily.

Silence filled the room once more, simply with the two of them staring at one another. Luke stared down at her with a slight smugness and with her looking up at him still frozen almost. When he does talk next, he muttered quietly, almost condescendingly with anger trailing in his voice, “You ruined an important meeting tonight all because you couldn’t follow a simple instruction-”

“Well, believe it or not, I don’t like to be locked up in a house for days on end like a caged animal,” She doesn’t even register that she’s speaking until she’s finished, the words flowing out of her mouth cutting off Luke’s lecture.

“This house is to keep you safe,” His grip on her jaw doesn’t loosen at this point in time, blue eyes swimming with rage. In all of their time together, he doesn’t remember his Bambi giving him this much attitude or a time where she’s tried to argue with him like this. Sure, there were times where they had disagreements or times where there had been a little bit of attitude but he had quickly sorted that out.

“I was safe at Anna’s and I was happy. Isn’t that what you want? For me to be happy?” Her voice is quiet, bottom lip threatening to quiver. She hated how she cried whenever she got frustrated, and right now she’s barely holding back from her eyes becoming glassy. She’s frustrated and annoyed, but she doesn’t want to look like a baby right now, especially when this was her first fight with Luke.

“Don’t try and guilt trip me now, Bambi. It isn’t going to work tonight.”

“I hate it here! I hate constantly having to move into this stupid fucking house where I have nothing to do and no one to talk to! It doesn’t even fucking have wifi or anything! It’s dumb and all because you’re paranoid!” After she finished shouting, she ripped her head out of his hold, standing back and away from him, back coming in contact with the marble counter of the kitchen island.

Her arms are crossed over her chest, and as Luke processed her words, he shook his head. His next words are low, like it’s a warning, “Don’t shout at me like that.”

“I’m not-”

“Listen here, doll, because I’m only going to tell you this once,” Luke doesn’t even let her finish before he’s talking. His voice is forceful and strong, something he normally reserved for when his men do something stupid like ruin a drug run, “You don’t call the shots here, I do. I’m in a gang and there are a lot of people that would put a bullet in your pretty little skull just to get to me,” He pressed a finger against her temple, hard enough for her to feel the pressure but not enough for it to hurt her, “People die in this lifestyle and I send you here so it doesn’t happen to you. Don’t tell me that I’m paranoid because I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I get it, I do-”

“Then why won’t you just do what I say?”

“Because I’m tired of being your secret.” She whispered, looking up at Luke’s blue eyes sadly, tears gathering in her own eyes. His head dipped a little, shifting his weight onto his hands which are on either side of her, trapping her against the kitchen’s island counter.

It took Luke a few seconds to finally muster up words, and just from his tone she can tell that he’s disappointed, maybe in himself, maybe because of how she thought of their relationship, “You aren’t my-”

“Then why have I never met Cal? O-Or Mikey? Why is the only time I’ve ever met Ashton an accident? And why do you constantly send me away even if it’s only people you trust going to be there? And-”

“Bambi,” Luke groaned lightly but got cut off straight away when the girl continued to rant, barely even realizing that he had tried to cut her off.

“This was supposed to be our weekend and you just sent me away. I was so excited to finally get a whole weekend of you to myself but no, I was shipped off to this shithole again-”

“This was all because you just wanted me to yourself?” Luke asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised at the girl whose eyes snapped up to meet his.

“That’s what you want, Bambi? You got it.” Luke said, his eyes staying on hers, never wavering as he commanded. He pushed back, hands off the counter and now standing at his full height, towering over her with his eyes never leaving hers, “Hands out. Now.”

“Luke what-”

Her eyes frantically search his face, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She can feel her heart rate pick up, beating loudly in her chest.

“No, Bambi. You’ve done plenty talking tonight. No talking unless I ask you a question, got it?”

She nodded her head, gulping down the thickness in her throat as a thick leather wrapped around her wrists, constricting them. Her mouth parted slightly, she hadn’t even seen or heard Luke take off his belt, but now she can’t even part her hands anymore.

His head dropped to her neck and she can feel her stomach flutter simply by his breath fanning over the skin on her neck. His hand made its way up to the nape of her neck, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking on it so her neck is fully exposed to him, “You’ve me all to yourself tonight, Bambi. And you’re all mine.”

#luke hemmings 5sos #luke hemmings #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x oc #5sos #5sauce #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer x reader #5 seconds of summer x oc #gang!luke hemmings x oc #gang!luke hemmings #gang!luke hemmings x reader #mafia!luke hemmings #mafia!luke hemmings x oc #mafia!luke hemmings x reader

[atlas-of-the-universe]

Home (Sequel to Vision’s Powers)

Estimated Reading Time: 18 minutes

Word Count: 4,912

---

There was actually a lot that could have gone better in the situation you were in. You could have moved your feet a little quicker or maybe steadied your breathing so help your balance; but to your dismay, it proved useless. While Bucky swung unimaginably hard fists at the punching bag a few feet away from you, Natasha took you by surprise once again, knocking you off of your feet and onto the mat with a hardy slap. Your back hit the floor and sent a wave of discomfort through you. You were sweaty, thirsty, and worst of all, you were getting frustrated with the work that you were doing. Once again, you and Natasha had decided to stay late to practice your training. The consistent thwacks to the poor punching bad to the left of you echoed in the room. Bucky was barely breaking a sweat.

When your head hit the mat again, you let out a hardy groan and turned your head upwards to face Natasha. She had a light gleam of sweat around her face, but she still looked stunning. The black t-shirt she was wearing clung to her skin and her grey shorts dangled from her hips. Had it been any other situation, you may have been able to admire how she looked and how effortlessly she landed her punches and attacks. Alas, your line of sight was blurred from your eyelashes catching your sweat. It may have been a signal to stop, but your determination was a force to be reckoned with. You knew that Nat was able to see that, so you also knew she was just pushing as hard as you were willing to go. Even so, a break wouldn’t have killed you.

“Always keep your eyes on your opponent,” Nat stated. “Never look away.” Nat offered you her hand to get up and you took it. As she pulled you off the ground, you grimaced at a new pain in your lower back and groaned standing up. She dusted you off and gave you a once over before nodding. “You okay?”

You nodded and reached around to hold the lower portion of your back. “Yeah, I think I probably pulled something. I’ll be fine, but do you think we can take a but of a break for now? I should probably put some ice on this so I can be better by tomorrow.”

Natasha’s eyes furrowed and she gestured to your back. “Do you want me to take a look?” She asked. She looked concerned.

“If you could, I’d appreciate it,” You said and turned your back to her.

Nat gingerly took ahold of the back of your shirt and lifted it up. It was a little nerve-wracking, feeling her small movements, especially facing away from her. Even so, you had been through the same situation a week prior to this with Vision. Perhaps you were getting more comfortable being the newest Avenger, and the team was finally beginning to see you as an equal. With that thought in mind, you made a note of the fact that Natasha had offered to do this herself; you didn’t even really have to ask. That must show some amount of trust if she’s checking you for injuries. She placed a palm on the small of your back and pushed lightly. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel comfortable. Your breathing hitched and you controlled a sigh.

“Does that hurt?” She asked.

You shook your head and chuckled. “It doesn’t feel great.”

She hummed a bit and placed her hand on your side. It was a shocking feeling at first, and if you were honest, reminded you a little too much of the Vision situation that unfolded last week. She pushed her hand into your side and her fingers curled a bit. Of course you didn’t mean to, but you jumped and let out a surprised noise.

“Sorry,” Natasha said. “Just had to see for myself.”

She must have been talking about your pain, right? You smiled and pulled down your shirt, turning to face her. She had a small smirk on her lips, but she looked more curious than devious. “See my pain?” You joked, trying to feign some sort of innocence in hope that she hadn’t figured out your little weakness. “That’s a bit sadistic of you, Nat.”

You heard Bucky chuckle to the left of you. He never missed a beat with his punches, so you decided to stay about fifteen feet out of range of the wildly swinging punching bag. Nat glanced over at him but redirected her attention to you. “Tony mentioned yesterday at the monthly debrief that you and Vision had worked on an experiment together,” She said. “Remind me to tell Tony that it’s time to include you in those meetings. It’s only fair.”

Your heart dropped. You had known that of anyone, Tony would have been the one to tell. He was just that petty. To be honest, the fear of them finding out had slipped your mind until now. You knew that Vision knew (obviously) and so did Tony, but when you asked Tony not to tell, it would have been hard enough to keep that a secret for him. Tony loved to have his fun at the tower, especially if there wasn’t some world-wide-threatening catastrophe in place. However, with a “weakness” of the sort, you felt as though you couldn’t afford to have the rest of the Avengers know about something as childish as that. Even so, you noticed that Natasha didn’t say anything. There was still a chance that, maybe, by the grace of the Gods, just maybe he hadn’t told them. You made sure not to keep that hope to close to you. It was unlikely.

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, they needed help,” You said. It was inconspicuous enough.

Nat chuckled and wiped off dust from the sides of your arms before giving you a look-over. Besides your hunched stance because of the discomfort in your back, you looked fine. Sweaty, but fine. “Don’t worry about it too much. Everyone has something that can knock them back a few pegs,” Natasha teased. She winked at you and folded her arms. You felt your heart sink once again. Guess Tony told them after all. “Besides, it’s cute. Actually, if we wanted to use it during your training to help you build up a tolerance to it, we could.”

Of course, Nat was all business and little play. Her and you had a very close bond and you knew that she wasn’t someone to push past a friend’s comfort-zone. You appreciated it but chuckled nonetheless and shook your head. “So, I guess everyone knows at this point?” You asked.

“Yeah,” She said chuckling. “Pretty much.”

Shit.

---

           After your training with Natasha, you decided to go back to your room to hopefully shower and relax. Your arms and legs were sticky with dried sweat, and you felt completely exhausted. As much as you loved working with Nat, you knew that she tended to push you to your limit. It was necessary, but it still left you feeling drained.

You threw your bag of equipment to the side of your bed and collapsed into your sheets. You planned to stay there for a few minutes before going to shower; if you spent any more time on your feet, you were sure that you’d probably end up falling in the shower. That is certainly the last thing you needed now that your secret was out to the rest of the team. Fucking Tony. You groaned at the thought and rolled over to face the ceiling of your room with your arm draped over your eyes. Okay, so they know your secret. Now what? You stumbled through possible reactions and encounters that could take place because of it. You didn’t think they’d kick you off the team because of it, but it was still embarrassing and, to you, felt a little unbecoming of a superhero. Were you considered a super-hero at this point? Were superheroes ticklish? You chuckled at the thought and tried to imagine the big and mighty Thor rolling on the floor laughing with glee. It was a little ridiculous, but it made you giggle.

About an hour had passed since you had gotten to your room. You finally managed to get up and take a shower and resumed your original position of lying on your bed with your phone in your hand. To be honest, you had started to get hungry and remembered that you hadn’t eaten since lunch. Probably not the best course of action. You glanced at the time and grimaced: 8:27. It wouldn’t be too late to have dinner, but Natasha always advised you against eating after 8. It always made training less bearable. However, since your blood sugar was getting low, you stood up from your bed, your muscles still exhausted. It took just about everything in you to open your door and walk to the kitchen.

The last thing you had expected was to see Vision and Wanda in the kitchen together, Wanda cooking in a large saucepan. From where you stood, it looked like she was making some sort of fried rice, and a ton of it too. You took a step into the room and smiled at Wanda, who in turned smiled at you. The kitchen was brimming with the smell of fresh cooked onions and garlic and plumes of pillowy steam wafted up from the food. “Hey, (Y/N),” Wanda spoke. “Can you do me a quick favor and hand me that bowl of peppers?” You nodded, but before you were able to take it, she made a small noise which sounded surprised. “Actually, never mind,” She said. She had a smile on her face and with her powers, the small bowl of chopped green peppers floated towards her and finally spilled over into the sauce pan. “I forget I can do that sometimes.”

You chuckled. “Anything that I can help with?”

Vision at the opposite end of the island in the middle of the kitchen smiled and waved at you, “Hello (Y/N).”

“Hey, Vis,” You responded and waved.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Mr. Stark. I did my best to dissuade him from telling anyone. I didn’t expect him to say anything at our conference. I hope you can forgive me.”

You appreciated Vision’s apology. To be fair, it wasn’t even Vision’s fault, it was Tony’s. That being said, you weren’t mad at Tony either, nor were you at Vision. “Don’t worry about it,” You said, waving off his apology. “What are you guys doing in here? It’s a bit late to be making dinner.”

“We can ask you the same question!” A voice that you immediately recognized as Steve said from the couches in the corner of the room. You glanced over to see Steve, Natasha, Tony, Sam, Peter, and Thor pressed up against the couches, the light of the television screen lighting up all of their faces with a dim blue light that was ever shifting. “We were waiting on you,” Steve said, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

You smiled but became suddenly aware of your presence in the room compared to all of them. You felt meek and a bit shy suddenly. You opted to take a stool at the kitchen island rather than try to find a seat for yourself in the middle of everyone. “I’m surprised that Bucky isn’t here. Is he okay?” You asked, looking to Natasha for an answer. Just an hour ago or so, he had been with you both in the training room, knocking the hell out of those poor punching bags. “Should I go try to find him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” A voice said from behind you while a hand placed itself on your head, messing your hair around. You spun on the stool to see Bucky’s smiling face. “Glad to know that someone missed me,” He said. You felt good for a bit, knowing that you made him feel good. His black leather jacket stretched around his body and creaked with all of his movements. Maybe he had gone out for a drive or to go to the bar; it had become his main place to be since finding his own apartment. He put his hand down and looked at the rest of the group.

You turned away from Bucky to get a look at everyone else. They were all in casual clothing, a sight you normally would not have ever gotten to see. Under usual circumstances, everyone would be dressed in their “super-hero” attire, consisting of flashy colors, hard metal shields and weapons, and especially form fitted so everything went where it needed to and they wouldn’t have to worry about anything but the fighting. Seeing everyone in pajamas, sweats, and t-shirts certainly was not the first thing you expected to see. Even so, it felt homely and welcoming to see everyone relaxed. There were several bright red (courtesy of Tony, of course) leather couches and a dark wood table set in front of the three seater, and a few recliners in the same color sat in a large “U” shape around the flat screen television. You recalled the first day you arrived at the facility:

           You had arrived hand in hand with Natasha who had been giving you a guide around the tower. Your past was not something that you were ready to discuss with anyone, all they had known is that you were found during a series of raids in Russia. Natasha had been assigned to work undercover for a terrorist organization. You were grateful, but to be honest, you weren’t necessarily ready to deal with your past either. Your raggedy clothes had been stripped away and replaced with a clean and ironed out t-shirt that Steve had offered you. You were in no position to say no, especially considering that your clothes were just about ready to fall off. After the tour and getting your first shower in weeks, Natasha had lead you to the room you were in now: the living room. You both sat there for hours, watching Disney movies and bad rom-coms while eating take-out. Natasha had been the first one there for you, and even helped you begin your training. She was the person you trusted the most, and every ounce of you was grateful.

           Currently, Natasha was sat on the left side of the couch furthest from the television, Steve on the right side. On the other couch furthest to the back wall, Peter sat on the ottoman in front of Tony and Sam, while Thor sat comfortable in his own recliner. There were also three more recliners available, but you made a point in your head to save those for Bucky, Vision, and Wanda. But…where would you sit? I mean, you thought, I don’t mind sitting on the floor. The floor was completely clean, of course. It wouldn’t make for that much of an issue. However, scanning over the room again, you noticed a wide gap between Steve and Natasha. Natasha glanced at you and smiled, patting the open space with her hand. She gestured to come over to her with her head, and you gladly did so, making sure to be quiet and polite about sitting down. Honestly, it didn’t seem like anyone was paying much attention to the movie, whatever it was. Everyone was either chatting or on their phone. Maybe they had done this…for you? You had never seen them gather like this, and Steve did mention that they had been waiting on you. Even with that thought in mind, you pushed it off and stared straight at the television. There was a subtle fear in you over making eye contact with the others, so you kept your gaze away from the others faces.

           Peter was too lost in a one-sided conversation with Thor to notice your presence in the room. You watched how his hands flailed when he was excitedly speaking and how he barely ever broke eye contact except to think. It was admirable, especially for someone his age in comparison to everyone around you. He seemed to be speaking about this new experiment that Vision, Tony and him had been working on, but something about it seemed a little too familiar. Something about his words made your ears perk up, until…

           “Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, nodding eagerly. “I thought it would have been painful, it just tickled.”

           You froze and looked at Tony, who was smirking. He shifted his gaze to you and bumped his eyebrows. In reaction, you immediately cast your gaze down to your knees and felt your face heat. You guessed that it had been possible that Tony did need more “test-subjects” rather than just yourself…but did he need to be so obvious about it?

           “Oh, uh, that reminds me,” Tony said. Peter instantly hushed. “(Y/N), you worked on the experiment with us. Did you enjoy it?”

           The fact that no one paid any attention to Peter’s indirect admission into being ticklish made you a little bit more comfortable, but it was still embarrassing. Your eyes darted to everyone in the room as they looked at you with soft smiles. You nodded and let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah,” you said. “It really wasn’t painful. Ah, pretty much just what Peter said.”

           “Oh?” Tony said, jerking his head up. “Did it feel weird or anything?” Tony shook his head with each word he spoke with pursed lips.

           You knew exactly what he was trying to do. You went through the list of scenarios that were in your head, mostly possible outcomes of different responses, but some were images of you being scorned, excluded, or mocked because of this little weakness of yours. You cleared your throat and nodded with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, same as Peter, really,” you said. Tony looked at your to further elaborate on your answer. “Just tickled.”

           Next to Tony, Sam let out a rather loud groan and threw his head back onto the back of the couch. A pit immediately grew in your stomach; these were the kinds of reactions that you had been hoping to avoid. “Tony, leave the kid alone. She doesn’t need you being a creep on top of everything else.”

           Tony put his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Me?” He asked overzealously. “Come on, this place could use a little excitement.”

           “She’s had enough excitement to last her a lifetime,” Natasha chimed in from next to you. You smiled at her, but she stared directly at Tony. “Plus, her skills in combat are getting impressive. I imagine she’d be able to take you on.”

           Once again, the pit in your stomach grew and your heart rate spiked. There was no rhyme or reason why you would want to take on any one of these people in a fight. Natasha was the only person you had sparred with in the past few days, and thus, the only person you felt comfortable even beating in a fight. Your mouth spoke before your head was able to catch up, simply because of the panic. “No, no,” You said, your hands up in defense. “I don’t think I-”

           “Sure you can!” Thor chimed in with a grin from his recliner (that he looked way too large for). “We’ve trained and battled warriors even smaller than you across the nine realms. Some of them put up a very good fight.” It was supposed to be a compliment, so you smiled at him in thanks.

           “What do you think, (Y/N)?” Steve asked. You looked over to Bucky and watched his eyes dart between you, Steve, and Natasha. It was normal for Bucky, Steve, Nat and you to have lengthy conversations in the training room but truth be told, you had never participated in a larger group discussion with them. The feeling in the room felt devious, but you kept your cool and did you best to steel your face the way that Natasha had taught you. “Think you’d be able to take us in a fight?”

           You smiled and gathered up the courage to be apart of the conversation, rather than the shy feelings that you displayed. “I think I’d rather fight next to you guys than against you.”

           “Good answer,” Bucky said with a smile and patted your shoulder.

           “Kiss ass,” Tony remarked. You chuckled but decided to ultimately ignore it.

           Once the energy of the room had died down, you returned your gaze to see exactly what movie had been put on for you. Maybe if you had had time in the last few years to sit down and watch television, even just the commercials, you would have had an idea of what it could be. A large gymnasium filled to the brim with teenage girls was on screen, the camera focusing on a particular one who seemed nervous to be there. There wasn’t much point in asking what you were watching; no one was really paying much attention anyways. Peter went back to excitedly explaining his latest science project and how a test that he had coupling the project was coming up in a few days. He was confident, but a little on edge. He mentioned how studying would probably help him---

           Your thoughts were cut off by a quick jab to both of your ribs, and your body flung backwards into the couch to guard yourself. A little giggle escaped your lips and your elbows flew to your sides. You looked behind you to see Bucky with a rather devious smirk as he leaned onto the headrest of the couch. You didn’t even notice him stand up, let alone get behind you.

           “Had to test the waters,” he said, his smile not leaving his face. “Oops.”

           “Lot worse than we thought, huh?” Steve said and smiled at you. You looked up at Bucky who was hovering directly over your face, barely even a foot away. Your stomach fluttered with nerves and you turned away to make sure he wouldn’t be able to see the blush on your cheeks. Before you could utter out a response to this not-so-sudden attack, you felt fingers on your side give a light squeeze. You squeaked, pushed further into the couch, and fell into a short burst of giggling before opening your eyes to see Steve’s hand inches from your torso. “Guess so!” He exclaimed, laughing.

           There wasn’t really much time to be able to compose yourself between Bucky’s little attach and Steve’s. Soft giggles already flowed from your lips and your eyebrows furrowed up into a worried look. Your body smushed itself into the couch as far as you could possibly go and pinned your arms to your sides to prevent anymore attacks. With your hands in front of you, you attempted to steady your giggles, however, your words were interlaced with the subtle shake of mirth. “Wait, wait, wait, this isn’t a great idea—”

           Peter turned to face you from his ottoman and laughed, giving your knee a squeeze which didn’t do anything to help your cause. If anything, it just made you jolt and your giggles get louder. He smiled at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m just glad I’m not on the receiving end of this,” He stated.

           “Don’t get your hopes up, boy genius,” Tony said, standing up from his seat. “Just because we have a new victim doesn’t mean you don’t exist anymore.”

           Peters face flushed but he chuckled. “Trust me,” he said. “I’m grateful.”

           Between your nerves from having three people tickle you, it took you a second to register what Peter had just conversed about. Had something like this happened before? To be fair, it was easier to imagine Peter getting tickle-attacked here than anyone else. After all, he was still a bit childish. Granted, so were you so… that didn’t necessarily leave you in a good spot.

It was interesting though; when you had first heard of the Avengers, you saw them on television when you were younger. Watching them fight side by side against the Chitauri was inspiring, but this was years later. Of course, you never would have guessed that you would have been part of the team yourself. Let alone, you never would have guessed that the Avengers were actually quite playful.

The confusion slipped your mind as Bucky fluttered his fingers on the side of your neck, which automatically renewed your giggles. You scrunched up your shoulders and grabbed at his wrists, which ultimately did nothing. It was also a very strange sort of tickle, considering that one hand, or arm rather, was completely made of metal. He had cold (literally) and calculated movements, and his fingers fluttered up to the back of your ears. You squealed and held your hands up to your ears in a less than desperate attempt to stop the attack. Had it been another situation, a noise coming like that from an Avenger would have been embarrassing, but your mind was too busy focusing on the feeling.

“Bucky!” You shouted, dissolving further into your laughter, and sinking further in the couch.

Not slow enough for your mind to register what was happening, a new squeezing tickle sparked to life on your left side and you hunched over. You let out a small involuntary scream and hunched your body towards the left. You realized that Steve had taken it upon himself to help Bucky out, and really, you shouldn’t be surprised. The zapping sort of feeling in your sides and the light fluttering on your neck were almost too much to bear, and your laughter hitched. You debated on taking your hands away from your ears and neck, but that would only help Bucky. However, if you didn’t, then that would just give Steve more of an opening. Instead, your body took control, and slid down even further until your head was placed a few inches on Steve’s lap. You curled in on yourself as Steve moved his hand to your right side, which was now exposed. Bucky’s fingers switched to what he could get at in your position, which happened to be your ribs. You rolled onto your back in a feeble attempt to stop their fingers, but it only made them switch to your stomach. Once again, your laughter hitched. Deep belly laughs mixed with squeals echoed over the sound of the television. There were few thoughts bouncing around your head as you were tickled to pieces. Don’t kick Nat. Can everyone hear the movie over me? PLEASE don’t kick Nat. How long have they been going? How long are they planning this? Was anyone paying attention anymore? Guard yourself. If this was an enemy, you’d be screwed. Oh god, please don’t let Natasha use this in training. This is embarrassing. Who’s that laughing? Why is this…kind of fun?

“Guys, PLEHEHEASE!” You begged. You could hear a few scattered chuckles over your own laughter, but it was hard to focus on who they were coming from.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said, stopping his movements and resting his palm on your forehead. Bucky stopped as well. “I think she’s had enough for one day.”

You were grateful for the air that flooded its way into your lungs. You were panting, but scattered giggles escaped from your lips. To be honest, you didn’t care much about the fact that your head was resting on one of the founding members of the Avengers. If anything, he was the one who decided to tickle you, so he had to deal with the consequences that came with it. When you opened your eyes, the team around you were in giggle fits themselves. Bucky was still peering over at you from behind the couch, his arms hoisting him up on the back rest. He had a wide smile on his face. Scattered conversations here and there let you know that most of the attention was off of you at this point, which you were kind of grateful for. You pushed yourself off of Steve’s lap and playfully pushed Bucky’s head out of the way so you could sit up. He laughed and ruffled your hair, before finding his own recliner and sitting down. Steve let out a laugh and looked you up and down.

“You look like you just got out of training,” he said.

Grateful for the playfulness of his tone, you laughed at what he said. “I feel like it too.”

Next to you, Natasha poked you in the ribs. Your defenses automatically went up again before she placed her hand on your shoulder. It was her way of telling you that you could relax now. At least, that’s what she did during training. “Welcome to the real Avengers.”

“Real?” Sam said from his seat. “If I remember correctly, we’ve saved the world too many times to count. That’s real.”

“Lighten up, hotshot,” Tony spoke. “We can still be the Avengers without having a stick in our ass. Maybe you need the America dream team over there to teach you how to do that too.”

“You touch me and I’ll kill you,” Sam said with a smile on his face.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this place was a lot more familial than you thought. And maybe, just maybe, you could find this place becoming a permanent home for you.

#Avengers x reader #Ticklish!Reader #tickle fic #avengers tickle fic #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #vision #sam wilson #tony stark #wanda maximoff

[spiltscribbles]

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed  this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

.-

Prompt Smash Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜   |  A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

.-

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

.-

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary  weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive. 

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation  for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade  when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on. 

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings.  And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers. 

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him  any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year. 

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago. 

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard,  leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything  through the heavy weight around him, the one  cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room. 

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale. 

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and  how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes. 

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud. 

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together. 

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face. 

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?” 

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you  want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught 

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making  some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her. 

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth. 

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what. 

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

.-

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #REMUSXSIRIUS #SIRIUSXREMUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #Spilt Ink

[b0rista]

i don't really know how tumblr reqs works but you write for marco right ?? 🤩 can you write some hcs for him 😟😟 ( sorry if I sound rude or dry 😭😭😭 )

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐓.

WARNINGS: language.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: NONFOGNO it wasn't rude or dry at all!! lowkey i got super excited reading this because LAWD i've been wanting to write some marco dating hcs 🥺 i love him way too much like this isn't healthy bye

"you don't get it— you had my heart before i was even given the chance to refuse."

without a doubt, marco's shirt was tailored with the utmost boyfriend material. this may anger some of y’all, but out of the men of the 104th, this man has to be one of the best when it comes to relationships. the epitome of perfection, dare i say. beautiful boy. 

there was probably a lot of pining going on before the two of you decided to get together, if we’re being honest. during your three years of cadet training, marco’s crush on you was absolutely and utterly hopeless. at least, that’s what he thought. the guys didn’t do much to help, either. instead of encouraging him, they teased him. after all, who the hell’s dumb enough to fall in love in a place like this? after all, you’re practically training for your own death. and while marco knew that, that didn’t make his feelings toward you any less intrusive. even while watching you swing from tree to tree during ODM training, he still caught himself gawking at your absolite effortless beauty, earning himself quite the scolding from his own conscious. hell, one time, you caught him staring at you during training, and he face planted into a tree. that time, it was commander shadis that gave him the scolding. which,, is always terrifying. 

before and during your guys’ relationship, marco’s love language is an endless amount of consolation. of course, this goes for everyone, but especially you. seeing you hopless is something that he doesn’t ever want to have to say, so with that being said, he does everything in his power to keep your spirits lifted. and if you’re ever down, he’ll know. you can’t hide your feelings from this man, he’s far too intuitive for his own good. and even if you’re fine, he’ll still go above and beyond with his words of affirmation. it’s who he is. 

during your trainee days, you spent a lot of time with him, jean, sasha, and connie. no matter the circumstances, that was your crowd. really, it was just a huddle of idiot teenagers half-assedly working to become soldiers. even so, they were the ones that got you through it. 

^ honestly, if it weren’t for marco’s constant encouragement, you likely would have quit the training to go work on the farmlands. whenever you tell him that, though, he sheepishly shuts you down, contradicting his own denial through the very thing that made you a shoulder.

“you’re giving me too much credit, y’know. i may have chipped in, but it was you that got you to where you are now. it always was, and it always will be.” 

yeah, this freckled bastard is your go-to therapist. half of the time, you don’t even go to him for help; he comes to you. it’s like he has this sense, or something- no matter how far apart the two of you are, he can feel whenever it is you’re unhappy. perhaps his intuition is just that good, or the two of you are simply soulmates, linked together through delicate intertwinement. quietly, marco believes the latter. back to the main topic of discussion, though. one of his main objectives is to solve whatever problems you may have, even if they have absolutely nothing to do with him. no matter the circumstances, it’s his duty to keep that sweet, soothing smile on your face. without it, his world is dull. 

love letters. yeah, that’s right. for his safety within the boy’s barracks, he’s asked that you keep them a secret,, but marco writes you one to two love letters a month. it isn’t a dramatic amount, and they aren’t all that lengthy, but they never fail to get you to swoon. he’s got a way with words, and when it comes to the likes of you, they’re as passionate as ever. really, he could go on and on about you, page after page, and never find himself getting bored. with every fiber of his being, he’s absolutely smitten over you.

of course, though, the letters don’t start making an appearance until after the two of you establish your relationship. which, as always, i’ll leave that up to you! however, it was probably some time during the end of your time as cadet trainees. after three whole years of helplessly pining for you, i can see him gathering enough courage to actually confess to you. with jean’s encouragement, of course (even though it was more like pRessurinG plspls). 

it can get a little overbearing at times, but marco likes to try and help you with everything and anything. you can’t quite reach that top shelf? don’t worry, he’s got you. struggling with your gear? alright, what’s the problem, he’ll fix it. you’re taking an extra moment to count horses, and he’s already rushing to lend a helping hand. at some point, you’ll have to communicate that although it’s sweet that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, he’ll have to give you the chance to actually learn a thing or do. once you do, he’ll take literally everything into consideration, and try his hardest to stop himself whenever there’s a possible learning exercise in your way. 

cheek kisses! an endless amount, at that. out of everywhere on your body, marco favors your cheeks, if he could, he’d pepper them in kisses all day long. unfortunately, though, he can’t, so he’ll stick to sneaking in little pecks in between every other hour of the day. the two of you live for those moments where he cups either side of your face, plants a sweet kiss onto your cheek, and rushed back to finish whatever it was he was meant to be doing. as expected, they always manage to leave you craving more. 

ah, jean. the third wheel you never fucking asked for. he’s such a pest, and marco refuses to get rid of him, literally ever. with that being said, he’s practically an honorary member of your guys’ relationship. the amount of times you and marco have been cozied up together on the sofa only to be very rudely interrupted by jean sLipping in between the two of you is ridiculous. you and your boyfriend have cancelled dates for this man, simply because he doesn’t want to be alone. typically, it’s jean giving marco the puppy dog eyes, and then in suite, marco giving you the puppy dog eyes, which you simply cannot resist. 

honestly, it’s nearly impossible to get this man jealous. you’ve tried, it should not be as difficult as it is. of course, i said nearly impossible. really, marco’s funny when he gets jelly. he isn’t overly edgy, or agGressive with you- he’s more,, chaotically conflicted. one night, you were feeling a bit more committed to the cause, so you mindlessly sat on reiner’s lap during dinner in the mess hall. marco, who was busy rough-housing with jean, choked. 

"iSTHATCOMFORTABLEORSOMETHING-"

reiner: 🧍‍♂️

during the quiet of the night, you enjoy tenderly kissing each and every one of his freckles you can see. starting with the ones dusted along his face, to his shoulders, to his arms, and so on. usually, marco's far too tired to fully react, but he's always softly smiling, silently admiring you while a hand tangles itself within the locks of your hair.

it's been confirmed that marco's a big brother, so that's definitely a thing. even if you've only been together for a short amount of time at this point, marco would want you to meet his family. after all, he's quite literally in love with you. why not start the formalities earlier than necessary? even if you don't make too good of an impression, he's sure that one day, his family will be one that you're apart of. he wouldn't have it any other way.

he's flustered easily. the smallest thing could happen, and he's red in the face, stumbling over his words, all of it. of course, you only find it endearing. rake your fingers through his hair while he's a blushing mess, you'll never get enough of it. beneath your touch, he crumbles.

one night, after a rougher session of training, you took hold of marco's busted and blistered knuckles, which had been dirtied on the field. while he thought nothing of it, you moved them to your lips, planting a sweet kiss along the bridge as a form of comfort. he absolutely melted, and it was the birth of a beautiful pattern. whenever his fists are battered, your kiss mends them right back together.

during chores, you and him tend to hum together in sync. it's a surprisingly pleasing harmony, and it's become a shared habit to make up silly melodies to hum to whenever you run out. and whenever you're in need of comfort, expect to hear him quietly humming one of the songs the two of you made up while softly rubbing your back. vice versa, as well.

one time, you raspberried his bare stomach. he's never felt so violated in his life. another time, he did the same to you, and the fact that you laughed? yeah, it's an often occurrence. raspberries are real in this relationship, bitch.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot scenarios #aot headcanons #aot x reader #marco bodt #marco bodt x reader #marco bodt headcanons

[scripturiends]

stole all the air from my atmosphere

Read on ao3

Summary: Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasn’t so bad after all, even when you’ve practically finished studying ages ago.

Rating: T

Word count: 1,577

Notes: Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.

~

Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to ‘gave me no compasses, gave me no signs’ as well; truthfully, I��m not sure if this fic is in the same ‘universe’ as that one — all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if it’s the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an “official” sequel, anyway. ;) 

The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes — I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while it’s a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that it’s on par with your expectations. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.

Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy! 

~

There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.

It’s the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldn’t notice — and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldn’t hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.

Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, “Just go to bed already.”

So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesn’t care, but caring enough that she wouldn’t push him away. “Not until you’re done,” he finalizes.

Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. “You don’t even take this class.” 

Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A — truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, he’s only got eyes for one — is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, she’s far from reaching it.

“You know why I’m here,” he sidetracked. 

Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows she’s about to go on a long-winded rant. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” she started. “You want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.” 

He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. “I don’t need you here. Get out.” 

She said it so weakly that he knows there’s no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesn’t lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. “You talk too much,” he breathed. 

Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re dating me,” she pouted.

If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons she’d expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesn’t do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and he’s trying really hard not to lose his cool right now. 

She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. “This is too difficult,” she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwi’s shoulder. 

Really, really hard.

It’s funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesn’t need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining — but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didn’t need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.

But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwi’s sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldn’t be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this — he finds that as a privilege which shouldn’t be taken for granted. 

“Okay.” He gives in. “Let me have a look.”

Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”

He feigns innocence. “Talk about what?”

Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. “I need to be able to stand on my own if I’m going to survive law school hell,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.” 

“So this is just a minor setback?” Joonhwi teases. He couldn’t help it. 

“No,” Sol cries, “it’s a major obstacle.” 

She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, “So what? Are you just going to give up?” 

“Of course not,” she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal. 

“But sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.”

He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what he’d always tell her: 

“If everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.” 

To which she’d grimace and respond with, “Yeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.” 

But tonight was different. Sol wasn’t coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldn’t need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company. 

Right now, he’s treading murky waters and he’s afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things he’d never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing. 

He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. “I didn’t have it easy at the beginning either,” he admits. “Law school wasn’t even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.” 

This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person he’d ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwi’s life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. They’re two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncle’s untimely death. 

Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, “I think you’re smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?”

She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.

“That’s why I’m here.” He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. “Why do you think I’m holding your hand? It’s so I can pull you out from under when you’re drowning in all of this.”

Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. “Heol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?”

Joonhwi doesn’t know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. “Since you needed it.” 

Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, they’re at their best when they’re in tune with each other’s needs.

And right now, this is what he needs the most.

Much to Joonhwi’s dismay, Sol finally pulls away; they’re both out of breath. 

Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, he’s surprised he could even speak at all. “What was that for?” 

“You’re not the only sentimental one here. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.” 

That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.

~

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#jtbc law school #law school #kang sol a #han joon hwi #solhwi #kim bum #ryu hye young #kang sol a x han joon hwi #fics #jtbc #kdrama #korean drama #mine #otp: why couldn't you be here sooner