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erwinsvow · 3 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke’s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren’s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

#... uh yeah <3 step uncle eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager imagine #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger x reader #aot #fics #tw step cest #tw dubcon

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bimobuddy · 2 years

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Some Champion (BoTW)

Tickle fic, don't like it, don't read it.

Revali needs help with his grooming and begrudgingly turns to Link for help, only to discover he's a bit more sensitive than he remembered.

There is NO ship, since Link is a minor (17), and Revali an adult, this is strictly platonic and friendly. Maybe even brotherly, if you think about it.

Normally Revali stayed in Rito village, only allowing himself to be groomed and preened by close friends, as most Rito did. But at the moment he was in Hyrule Castle, along with some of the other champions, having a meeting. The princess was kind enough to offer rooms for all the champions to rest over the next few days, since their villages were a long way from the castle.

Revali sat in his room, trying hard to groom his feathers, but it was much more difficult than he thought with only one hand, since he was trying to straighten the feathers on his left arm. After a while, he growled and gave up, letting his attitude get the better of him. "Revali?"

The bird jumped upon hearing the voice. He turned to see Link standing in the doorway. Revali knew the other Champions thought he hated the Hylian by how hard he was on him, but the truth was completely the opposite. He had a soft spot for the knight, but he was the youngest and the smallest, and Revali was scared to see him get hurt. He was hard on him in order to create a wall between them, and also to make him stronger.

"...Revali?" Oh.. Guess he got lost in thought. "What do you want?" He asked, coldly. "You left your door open. I heard you growl and thought maybe you needed help." Link explained.

Help? HIM? Revali? Never! "Maybe I do." He found himself admitting. The comment seemed to shock them both. Link stepped fully into the room, shutting the door. "Would you like some help then?" he asked. After a moment of tense silence, the Rito nodded. "I was trying to groom my feathers, but that's usually a social thing that people do in Rito village. It's hard to do by yourself apparently." Revali said, sitting up straight.

Link walked over to the dresser and grabbed a comb. There was a comb this whole flipping time? Was Revali really that blind? Link sat down next to him, pulling him from his thoughts. "So.. How does this work? I've never helped groom... anyone really." the boy said, looking up at his much taller friend.

Revali glanced down at the comb in Link's hand. Rito usually used their hands, but it wasn't uncommon for them use combs as well. Usually parents used them for children, since they had down feathers, or their feathers were too small and fragile to really grab ahold of. Children were also encouraged to use combs until they got a bit older, since they might accidentally damage the feathers of friends or younger siblings by grabbing or pulling too hard. But Revali decided Link was allowed to use a comb as well, since he not only saw him as a child, but he was new to grooming.

"It's not that hard, really. You just comb it through, going the same direction of the feath- ..Yes, like that." Revali hadn't even finished his sentence when Link just started to run the comb gently down the length of his arm. Link was a quick learner, really. After a minute or two of Revali guiding him and giving him pointers, Link seemed as though he'd been doing this for years.

Everything was going fine for a while. Link had combed down both of his arms, and had just started to go for his side, when Revali suddenly tensed up and flinched away, grunting. The Hylian almost dropped the comb, startled. "Oh- Revali, I'm sorry, did I hurt you? Are you wounded there? I can go get a medi-" "I'm fine. It's nothing, don't worry about it." Revali said. Even he was confused for a moment, until he suddenly remembered something. Oh.

Revali had forgotten something over the years. He was ticklish. He hadn't been tickled since his mother used to play with him as a child. She used to chase him around for grooming time, and he'd always hide, making a game out of it, until she inevitably found him, scooping him up and taking him back home, where she'd comb out his feathers and tickle him. It had been years since then, and be had been so busy that he had even forgotten his own sensitivity. But he couldn't let Link know that.

"You just caught me off guard." ...Look, Revali was very skilled at fighting. Not so much at lying. Link tilted his head like a confused puppy. "...How? I've been combing your feathers for ten minutes now." Revali silently cursed himself. "Uh-.. I mean, y- Hey!" Revali yelped and gently slapped the comb from Link's hand, letting out what sounded like a strangled giggle.

"No way.."

"Link."

"I can't believe it."

"Then don't, there's nothing to believe-"

"Revali, the Rito Champion is-"

"Link, don't-"

"Ticklish?!"

"No!"

Suddenly forgetting to be proper, forgetting that they were warriors, Link jumped at his feathered friend, knocking him over. Revali put up a good fight, but he was weakened when Link buried his fingers into the feathers over his ribs, scritching against the skin underneath. And then the Rito was broken.

"Lihihink! Stahahahap ihihit, this ihis chihihildish!" Revali gave up on fighting, back, and focused more on protecting himself. He brought his arms down, accidentally pinning Link's hands right where they were.

"Hah! Some Champion you are~!" Link teased, laughing right along with his friend. He wiggled his fingers in place, listening as the pitch in Revali's voice actually got higher the more he giggled. And he giggled! It was so bizarre! Link never heard more than a chuckle or a scoff out of Revali. He assumed if Revali ever did laugh, it would be hearty or snobbish, like his personality. He never thought he would giggle like a child.

Link was just about to pull the 'my hands are trapped, you need to raise your arms' trap, when he suddenly felt a swift kick to his stomach, and found himself on the floor.

With how fast Revali sat up to check on him, Link assumed it was an accident, and raised his arms, saying "I'm okay, I'm okay. I've dealt with worse." Which was true. He was a knight.

Revali grabbed Link's hand, acting like he was gonna help the Hylian up. Link went to stand up, but found himself yanked back onto the bed, into the arms of his friend. "Wh- Revali! I thought you were helping me up!" He said, almost giggling as he tried to fight his way out of the hold (which wasn't working).

"Lesson one in battle: Never let your guard down."

"What- We weren't fighting!"

"Lesson two: Never trust your enemy."

And with that, Revali slipped his hand under Link's shirt and let his feathers brush over his belly. Link growled to keep from laughing, and kicked his legs, trying to fight back and get away. "Are you- Are you growling at me?" Revali laughed. He started to claw gently at Link's side, letting the feathers tickle him more than his actual hand. Worked like magic.

Link threw his head back, letting boyish laughter spill from his mouth. He kicked less and just laughed. "R-Rehehehehehe- Stahahahap! Thihihihis isn't fahahahair!" He giggled. Revali rolled his eyes. "Oh but it was fair when you tickled me?" "YEHEHES!" Oh this brat.

Revali pulled his hand from Link's shirt and directed his attention to his pointed ears. He stroked just under his ear with one feathered finger, as Link's loud laughter turned squeaky, and he struggled a lot more. His giggles turned to hiccups and he tried to duck his head away. "R-Rev- -hic- Revahahahali! Nahahat t- -hic- thehehere!"

The Rito champion finally took pity on the poor Hylian and stopped. When hs let go of Link, the boy just let himself flop onto the floor. Revali made an attempt to catch him, but Link was too fast. "A-Ahare you alrihight?" He chuckled. Link just held a thumbs up, still giggly and loopy from the tickling.

Revali felt a fondness for Link bloom in his chest, but one of family. In that moment, he didn't see the Hylian champion, or the Princess' guardian, or a knight. He saw a 17 year old boy who finally let himself relax and have a bit of fun for once. He saw a kid who had gone through more than what most adults went through.

"I see you two finally got along." Came a voice from the doorway. Revali snapped his head up to see Lady Urbosa, smiling at him. She must have heard all the noise. Link sat up, still with a lopsided grin. Of course he wasn't embarrassed, Revali thought, he didn't have a reputation to uphold. He sighed, knowing he couldn't lie to Urbosa. She'd see right through him.

"I guess so, but he started it."

#botw #tickle community #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #lee!revali #lee!link #ler!link #ler!revali

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rightsockjin · 3 years

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Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

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“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your ��best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)

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starconsumer444 · 3 years

Note

Just found you and already smitten with your dark content. Could you maybe write either Kuroo/Suna/Tendou/Bokuto (whichever u choose) brother or stepbrother catching sister/stepsister trying to masturbate but not knowing how so they edge her relentlessly until she agrees to let him have sex with her because he's tricked her thats the only way she can really cum the first-time? Finishing with a nice cream pie?

Older Brother!Suna (18+)

A/N:Thank you thank youuu~ I’m sorry I didn’t go with the “relentless” edging, I just did it one time because it was getting long and I have a sick and twisted sadomasochistic habit of writing from the late hours of the night until the early hours of the morning and getting dead tired half way through. I’m not sure if that was all that great in comparison to my other works, but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

(CW/TW: Incest, Virginity [Suna makes it hurt too, but there is an orgasm <3], Coercion, Dubcon, Edging??? Or just flat-out orgasm denial...,Age gap??? [Reader is 18, Suna is 25] Fingering, Creampie, Absolutely Clueless reader..., Masturbation, Suna is an asshole in this one, Deception, Manipulation and PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!!)

Unfortunately for you, university wasn't all that it was talked up to be in terms of sex and anything else really. You went into your first year thinking you were gonna lose your virginity, make new friends, go to frat parties, and just have all-around wild experiences. Suna, when he was in school, would always come back with cool stories to tell you, and had a new girlfriend every break he got. To have cool experiences like your big brother was the only reason you wanted to go, but unfortunately for you, it was none of that. Maybe it’s because you’re not an athlete like him, but it was studies, a newfound coffee addiction, and a roommate that never seemed to go anywhere. All that on top of your dead social life, absolutely miserable..

When Suna came to pick you up from the airport so you two could spend the holidays with your parents (a tradition no matter how old either of you get), you told him all about it. Sure, you didn’t grow up particularly close with him being seven years older and all, but he was still your older brother and no topic seemed to be off limits with him, so it was nice. He wasn’t the most doting older sibling and definitely not the most talkative either, but he was good for listening. Really, listening was his strong suit.

You told him about your lackluster social life and your mountains of schoolwork, but, even knowing he wouldn’t mind, you didn’t tell him about the sex stuff. Why would you? He’s your older brother. He shouldn’t know things like that about you.

Needless to say, you go home for winter break a sexually frustrated virgin. Maybe, if you had tried a little harder with the people at school it wouldn’t have come to this?

The house had been dead silent when you decided to, for the first time, attempt to masturbate. You were sure no one was home, not your mom, not your dad, and not your older brother, Suna. Still, you could’ve at least checked before you completely stripped your lower half.

It wasn’t going well, you had two fingers inside yourself and you didn’t feel anything. You felt like a doctor doing a self-probe at best. It just felt... wrong? But this is how the girls in porn do it, right? There’s no way you’re getting this wrong. You’re doing exactly what you see; moving your fingers in and out, even curling them a bit… What could you possibly be doing wrong?

Suna watches you silently from your slightly cracked door.

Pitiful, he thinks.

He was just coming by to ask if you wanted anything from the store because he was headed out. He didn’t expect to see his little sister struggling with her fingers in her cunt. He can postpone that walk to the corner-store to bond with his little sister.

He doesn’t even bother knocking to spare you the humiliation, just pushes the door open and lets himself right in.

You notice him immediately and let out a loud scream, closing your legs and trying to hide yourself by turning away from him. You want to disintegrate. Your body is burning up with embarrassment.

What does he want? Why now?

You feel his weight make your childhood bed dip and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. One of his calloused hands caresses your thigh and you don’t move away from it the way you know you’re supposed to. You’re frozen.

What is he doing?

“Suna, get out!” You turn to look at him and grab his wrist to stop him in his tracks. Can’t he take a hint? “What are you-”

“You’re not doing it right.” He pipes up. In the back of his mind he knows this is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this with his baby sister.

“Huh?” You’re clearly lost.

“I’ve done this before, let me help you.”

It takes nothing for him to separate your legs and settle himself in between them.

“You’re still a virgin?” His fingers slide gently up and down the wetness between your folds and it draws a sharp whimper and a harsh nod from you.

Suna is twenty-five and has enough sense about himself to know this is wrong. He’s not going to try to rationalize it. He’s just taking a golden opportunity even if that opportunity is his little sister. He has a knack for corrupting innocent girls like you; it’s fun for him even if it’s sick and perverted.

The dirty feeling you get having your brother touching and eyeing your most intimate parts is intense. You want him to keep going, but you know you should tell him to stop.

“Suna, this isn't okay.”

He shushes you but nods his head.

“I’m just helping you.” He says matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you can make yourself cum. Let your big brother help you, okay?” He insists and pushes two fingers inside your hole.

You scoot back out of shock and let out a surprised yelp, “O-okay,”

If he hears the nerves in your voice, he doesn’t do anything to acknowledge it. All he does is scoot closer and offer a gentle smile, the same brotherly one he gave you when he left for college and you cried wanting him to stay. That smile.

It feels so different when he fingers you. He’s not being as rough as you were and he’s definitely more practiced; you’re sure there’s tons of girls he’s done this too. It feels good, especially with him rubbing pleasant circles into your clit. You shouldn’t like this as much as you do.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm,”

He starts to speed up, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop the moans from being too loud in case you two weren’t the only ones home. His fingers are like magic and you don’t know how to react.

With the stimulation to your clit and his fingers inside you, above cloud nine is where you are. You’ve never felt like this, and there’s a tinge of guilt about it being with your brother but this is too good.

As cute as you look with your heaving chest and your eye’s starting to unfocus, he knows he’s not done with you. When he feels you start to spasm around his fingers he pulls them out, because this may be his only chance to use you, his little sister.

He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean like the perv he knows he is. It leaves you staring with your mouth hanging open, clearly searching for the words.

“What?” He asks, feigned puzzledness all over his expression. “You taste good.” He chuckles inwardly, you cringe internally. That’s not what you were going to ask, though.

“No…” You can’t look at him, so you look down and play with the sheets on your bed.

“Come on, what is it?”

“I think I was going to cum… and you-”

“That’s dumb, you can’t cum from being fingered.” There’s a seriousness in his tone, you take it as fact; he knows he’s lying.

“But the girls in porn-”

“It’s porn, it’s not realistic.”

You’ve heard that before. You guess it’s true, especially if Suna says it. It must be.

Thank god for shitty sex ed, he muses internally because without it, this wouldn’t be possible.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks curiously.

All you offer in response is a meek nod. You’re not actually certain on going through with your brother making you cum, but if it’s anything like the way he made you feel just now… maybe, it’s not so bad.

He tells you to lay down, and you do so without hesitation. With your legs splayed open over his thighs, it feels grosser knowing your brother has an even clearer view of you. You wish you had the self control to just say no and end this.

He pulls his sweats and underwear down; if your heartbeat wasn’t going crazy before it definitely is now. His dick is thick and long. He’s rock hard, his tip is pinker than the rest of it, and there’s clear stuff leaking out. It looks like it’s going to hurt, even looks like it’s hurting him right now.

“Suna, wait is this-” You don’t know how to finish. “I’m a virgin.”

“I know, you told me already.” He’s not really paying attention to you. He spits on his hand and rubs it all up and down his length. It’ll hardly help more than the fingering, but it’s a kindness he’s willing to give his little sister. “Just… relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as he leans over you, guiding his length to your entrance.

Immediately you clench and shut him out.

“I-I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s fine, just relax like I said.”

You do, and he starts to push in. It burns. Stings? Something like a mix of those two.

Even if there was lube for you to use, Suna wouldn’t have offered. He likes the way his baby sisters' face contorts in pain and confusion. You look cute losing your virginity to your big brother.

“AH-” It’s a sharp, pained exclamation coming from you as your hand pushes at his chest. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders now and he’s impaling you slowly inch by agonizing inch. You can feel him stretch you, but you don’t want him to stop, you’ve waited so long for this.

One of his hands rests on your lower stomach and you beg him to do anything to make you feel better when he’s all the way in. He rubs at your clit and leans over to kiss you like you’re his girlfriend.

Without warning he starts to move. It’s nothing but shallow and slow thrusts that have you feeling every inch of him. If it’ll make you cum, you can handle it. All you want is to cum. Combined with his fingers working on your clit, you’re sure you will, right?

Your moans are soft, even if it doesn’t feel that great. The girls in porn moan all the time, it’s the right thing to do.

When he feels like he’s been kind enough, he starts to move faster. You start to get used to it and your legs start to shake from the combined stimulation and strain from being bent at such an angle.

It’s like magic. Your orgasm washes over you,your eyes roll into the back of your head, your body shakes and your back arches off your soiled sheets.

Shock is plastered on Sunas typically inexpressive face. He didn’t expect you to actually...

His little sister is so sensitive. Most girls wouldn’t climax like that their first time. There’s an unspoken sense of pride in this for him. Still, he’s not stopping until he cums too.

You’re whining and squirming up under him, pushing at his hips and moving his hand away from your clit like him continuing is killing you after you’ve worked through your first orgasm. He assures you that’s how it’s supposed to feel and you’re supposed to wait until he cums too.

Once more, you’re laying there in discomfort and he’s getting off to it. Suna knows he’s wrong for it but he just can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s so close. He especially doesn’t care when he sees your horrified expression as you feel him paint your walls with his warm cum. He’ll make sure you don’t get pregnant later, but for right now he wants to savor this moment.

#suna smut #suna rintaro scenarios #suna x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #suna drabble #suna imagines #suna scenarios #this is me trying my hand at consistency!!!#tw: dubcon

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percydarling · 3 years

Text

Fred Lives (But does he really?)

Fred is alive.

He's not dead or lying under rubble or even a broken leg.

He's alive with all his organs intact. Sure there's some dirt and blood on his face but overall, he's okay.

Wait. Blood?

Oh no no no no no no.

He hears Ron before he sees it. Ron and Hermione holding the body with Harry staring dazed and shocked.

Fred crumpled to the ground mumbling no no no over and over agin. This can't be happening. He just came back. He was just here, it doesn't make sense. No, no,no this death could be avoided, it wasn't even an attack, it was just a stupid bloody wall made of magic and cement and whatever materials falling.

All Fred could do was hold Percy's body, his glasses somehow unbroken while his brother's heart was broken inside. His blue eyes staring now lifelessly at the ceiling, his hand clutching his wand close to his chest.

Maybe the most astonishing thing was that Percy was smiling and it wasn't the fake or polite smile. Really smiling, like a grin, as if.. as if he was happy.

Fred just wanted his brother back, he could lecture them on cauldron bottoms or stupid Ministry rules or scold them for leaving Hogwarts early or..or..or anything! It wasn't fair, it isn't fair.

Ron, ever the strategic was the first one on his feet.

"We need to hide the body and keep..keep it somewhere safe"

Fred couldn't do that. He had left Percy alone for far too long and he couldn't leave. He had to keep him safe, secure, away from this stupid bloody war. Couldn't Ron see that?

Thankfully Harry could.

Wordlessly, Harry put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, looking back at Hermione and Ron giving them a nod, their secret language of communication, and they understand before they leave together, Ron looking back at the body one last time.

Harry helps him lift Percy,and Fred is genuinely shocked at how light Percy is, but then he realises he's lifting his brother's dead body and all he can do is breathe as little as he could.

They find a place behind a pillar, where they keep Percy down.

Percy is dead.

He's not injured or unconscious, he's dead.

Fred's not sure if he was in shock before or if he's realising it again or he needs to confirm it or.. or.. or...

Merlin, Fred can't think straight, he can't even breathe.

"Fred, Fred look at me"

Harry's voice brings him out of it and Fred realises he's hyperventilating. Fred mirrors Harry's breathing pattern and Fred returns to normal.

Well as normal as they could in the middle of a bloody war.

"Okay Harry, let's do this. Let's go and defeat that bastard."

And with that both Fred and Harry run towards screams aiming at Deatheaters.

Fred hits more than a few and soon enough loses Harry in the crowd of people and blood. As much as he tries, Fred can't forget Percy's face, grining at him.

Fred has to be alive at the end of this war otherwise Percy's death would be worthless.

And Fred would not let that happen.

It doesn't help that he sees dead bodies littered on the floor, or blood that stains the floors of Hogwarts. How did they get here? How did this happen?

Dwelling on the past is of no use .

That's what Percy had told him before they had gone together.

"Come on Perce, let's go defeat the bad blokes"

"You want me to come with you?"

It's the shock on his face that makes Fred feel horrible. When was the last time they did anything together?

"Of course I do, you're my brother, besides I've not seen you for 3 years. It's time we do some brotherly bonding mate!"

Fred and Percy both gasp at the last word.

Mate?!

When had Fred ever called Percy mate?

"Well there's a first time for everything", Percy smiled, as he said that.

Fred grinned at that and then realised that maybe he hadn't been the best brother to Percy in a long while.

"Percy, I'm sorry about everything be-"

He didn't get to finish because Percy interrupted

"Oh ssh now, you forgive me and I forgive you. There's nothing more to it. This is our first brotherly bonding moment out of the many yet to come. Let's enjoy it."

It felt good to hear that. For Fred, it was like a new chapter opened up, a new experience, a second chance.

"Besides dwelling on the past is of no use to anyone, neither me ,nor you", Percy said wisely as he pulled Fred up on his feet.

"Okay smart arse, let's go and hex people, before you say any more of your wise phrases and tire yourself out oldie"

"You do know I'm only 2 years older than you right? Of course you wouldn't know, you're just a toddler"

"Hey!"

And with witty banter, both of them marched towards the zone of screams.

Brotherly bonding. That's never going to happen now. Percy's gone and this time for good.

No more second chance, no more nothing and that's even worse, isn't it? About to begin something new, a new thing, and just like that, that hope disappears.

Fred can't even remember a good memory with Percy, he can't and that's absolutely terrifying.

However, he can't analyze this now, there'll be time later. Like Percy said, dwelling on the past is of no use.

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

After hexing and killing and injuring plenty of Deatheaters, there is for a moment of peace, the war isn't over yet but there is a calm.

Fred sighs, he's just tired, so tired. He's so young yet he feels like he aged a decade in the last few hours. Was that how Mum and Dad felt during the First War? Maybe, maybe not.

He sees Mum first before the others and then he remembers, he has to tell them. A selfish part of him wishes that Ron must have told them first, so he doesn't have to.

He approaches them and the relief on his Mum's face when she sees him almost makes him break down right there and then, because she doesn't know.

She pulls him in for a hug, and just for that one minute it's comforting to just be held by your mother so tight, it makes him feel better. Fred feels warm.

And just like that she lets him go, and the feeling of dread returns.

"Mum-"

He's immediately tackled into a hug by his twin and George holds him so tightly as if he was well dead. He should be.

Any other time, Fred would have brushed George off and tell him he was being too emotional but now, he was just hoping that George would never let go. He doesn't know how he would feel if George would have died. He doesn't know how George would feel if he had died.

He just cannot imagine a world where they both die and now they both don't have to.

After George finally lets him go, Fred tries to approach the topic again

"I need to te-"

"Oh Ron, Thank Merlin you're alright"

Mum interrupts him this time as she sees Ron walking. Ron looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and body heavy as if carrying the world's fate on his back(well that's true). The point being that Ron looked exhausted

And as Ron stood among the group of red hair, they were almost a family.

Almost.

Charlie wasn't here and Percy was...

Fred shared a look with Ron, they both knew they had to tell them but they didn't want to or how were they going to tell them. Just saying it out? Beating around the bush?

No. They just had to say it out even if they didn't want to.

Then Ginny asked the question they were dreading.

"Where's Percy?"

#percy weasley #fred weasley #percy weasley fic #dead percy #angst #perct weasley centric #weasley family

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Best of Friends 7

Peter Parker X reader, Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason and his family finally go back to Gotham, but will Peters and Y/n's relationship recover or become worse?

It's been a week since the Waynes have left New York. Ever since then you have been lonely.

You got used to being followed everywhere by Jason and his brothers, and you missed their constant brotherly bickering. But most of all, you missed your best friend, Peter Parker.

Ever since that night at the carnival, your relationship has never been the same. Every time you saw each other within the week Jason was here, Peter either gave you the cold shoulder or was cold to you, only speaking to you when necessary. It was infuriating.

Especially because you did nothing wrong. You cannot for the life of you recall a moment where you did anything to warrant this behavior from Peter. And it makes you sad. Peter was you best friend. Hell he was you're only friend for a while. You even thought the two of you would become more than friends. But apparently not.

So there you were, sitting in your room mourning the friendship you think you lost.

Your pain was so obvious that the whole team saw it. And they were worried about you.

"Maybe I should go talk to her.." Tony said, hearing you cry for the third time that day.

"Yeah, and we'll find that Parker kid." Natasha said with Bucky and Wanda flanking her sides. All three exuding a cold aura.

The rest of the team shuddered at the sight. Knowing that Peter might not come to the tower unscathed, Tony shook his head

"No, the kids a good intern. Cap do you mind...?"

"I'm on it. Come on, Buck."

Steve was your self-declared god father. He hated seeing you in pain.

"Maruchan Candidate stays here." Tony says exasperdley, " You just got pardoned for murder, remember?"

Bucky huffed and plopped down on the couch. Sending a glare to Tony that had him rushing to the stairs.

"Ok..I'm gonna go talk to Y/n now.."

Once up the stairs he lets out a sigh of relief, "I cannot believe I let him live here."

He heads to your room, heart hurting as he hears your sniffles and cries increase. But then he hears a male voice in your room.

"Aw come on Printsessa, don't cry!"

Pietro.

Tony prayed this day would never come.

"I just don't understand, I didn't do anything..." You cry, voice breaking.

"Oh of course you didn't. You were the perfect friend." Pietro coos, " Come now, it pains me to see such a pretty girl cry"

Okay that was the last straw.

Tony rushed to the room and knocked on the door before marching in.

"Y/n! I came to see how you're feeling." Tony says loudly. He pauses to get a good look at the scene in front of him.

Pietro sat next to his weeping daughter, stroking her hair as she buries her face into a pillow. Pietro senses Tony's unease and stands, patting you on the head, ' I'll go get you some more tissue okay?"

And with that he zooms off. Tony rolls his eyes and takes his spot next to you.

"How are you feeling Kiddo?" He asks softly.

You sniffle, and look up from your pillow, " Daddy I don't know why he won't talk to me."

Tony frowns, knowing you only call him "daddy" when you're truly upset.

"Oh kid, Peter's probably going through something...it has nothing to do with you.."

"That's not true! He only refuses to talk to me. Ever since he asked out Liz, he hates me!" You cried, throwing yourself into your fathers arms.

He hugs you back, placing his chin on your head. Letting you cry into his shirt.

He sighs, wondering how he got caught up in this teen drama.

"Maybe you both should just talk it out." Tony suggests

"How am I supposed to talk it out if he won't talk to me!" You shout, ripping yourself from his arms and back into the comfort of your blankets. Tony panics, he really wasn't used to the drama.

"Sir, Peter Parker is in the common room."

Friday reports, comically sounding annoyed at the boys presence.

You look at your father in betrayal, "You brought him here!"

"Y/n..come on let's go talk-" "No!" you cried, " Why should I be the one to make with him? He's the one with the problem!"

"Kid.."

"NO just leave me alone." You say sadly, turning your back on the man.

Tony sighs again, really not used to this drama. He makes his way down the hallway, and into the common room. There he saw Peter, sitting petrified on the couch as the rest of the Avengers glared at him from around the room.

"Hi Spiderman." Tony says in a sarcastic voice.

"M-Mr. Stark." Peter says quickly standing up, "S-sir, I-"

Tony holds up a hand, cutting the boy off. Then he turns to Pietro and Wanda.

"It seems that m daughter needs some..extra comfort. If you two don't mind.."

They nod and walk to the room, glares making Peter want to pee his pants.

"I don't remember them being so close." Tony mutters, " Anyway, come walk with me Peter."

Peter scurries next to his mentor. Shrinking when he has to pass Nat, Steve, and Bucky.

"Um..did you need me for something sir..."

"Why is my daughter upset Parker."

"...what?"

"Why. is. my. daughter. upset?"

"I..I don't"

"Because, my little girl is up in her room, crying over a boy. do you know who that boy is?"

"Probably Jason Todd." Peter mutters

Oh. oh, that makes perfect sense.

"You're jealous." Tony says as if he made an epiphany.

"What? Mr. Stark don't be silly I-"

"No, you were jealous of Jason and Y/n."Tony states, " Peter Parker are you in love with my daughter?"

"wh-WHaT?" Peter squeaks out.

No. No of course he's not in love with you. You were his best friend for crying out loud.

"Oh? Then why are you mad at Y/n? Hmm? She says you've been mad since the carnival. "

Because he hated seeing you with him. He hated how this other guy made you look so happy. How comfortable you were with him, just like you were with Peter. Because Peter wanted to be the only one.

Oh shit...

"I'm in love with Y/n..." He whispers to himself.

Tony smirks, " Yeah kid, I know."

"Oh my god.."

"Listen kid, I'm not fond of my little girl being in a relationship. But she's in her room crying her eyes out, because her best friend, YOU won't talk to her. So I need you to go and have that hallmark moment and make up with each other."

Peter's heart breaks, he hates the idea of making you cry. Maybe he should of thought about that before ignoring you like that.

"Right. " Peter squares his shoulders and prepares to walk to you room.

"Woah" Tony says, grabbing him by the shoulder, " If she doesn't forgive you, you leave her alone."

"Wh-what?"

"Pete, I like you. I do, but Y/n is my daughter, and me and Pepper raised her to never let a man...or uh boy, to make her feel the way she does now."

"R-right..I get it. I need to talk to her."

"Okay, go for it kid. Just...don't mess up again, please. I can only handle so much drama."

"Right." He nods. He heads to your room, hands sweating as guilt swelled in his heart. He didn't mean to act like a douche. He really didn't.. it's just that, when he saw you with Jason it hurt. And then every time he would see you, he can see the way you cuddled with Jason on the couch. And how he looked at you, the same way Peter looked at you.

He reached the door to your room, and heard the conversation you were having with Wanda.

"I just..don't know what to do ..."

"Y/n you do not need to do anything. What you need to do is text Jason and go on a date."

No.

"Or you can go on a date with me~" SMACK "OW Wanda"

No.

"I can't do that...me and Jay-"

"You and the Wayne boy have a connection. We saw it."

"But...Me and Peter had a connection."

"Yeah until he ruined it." "Pietro!"

"No he's right." You sigh, " I haven't even seen Peter in a week and every time I do he glares at me."

"Exactly. So you know what you have to do."

A silent pause. Then Peter heard you sigh and say

"Okay I'll text him."

Oh hell no. Peter burst into your room, "Y/nIMSORRYI'MAJERKPLEASEDONTSTOBEINGMYFRIENDANDPLEASEDON'TGOOUTWITHJASON!!"

You, Wanda, and Pietro jumped, turning to the door where Peter just busted in.

"Peter? what?"

"He's lost it, I'll take him out."

"PIETRO" "What?"

"Y/n...I'm so sorry." Peter says softly, "You're my best friend. The one person that...that I really trust. I love spending time with you. ANd how you're face looks when you're watching movies. I love how competitive you get when we play board games"

"Oh barf!" "Pietro!"

"Peter you really hurt me..."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. I just..." Peter sighs, " I was just...I was jealous. You and Jason were so close and...and I thought he'd take you away from me..and I- I'm so sorry."

You stay quiet, digesting what Peter just told you.

"Peter I...I"

"Let me take you out."Peter says quickly.

"What? Pete maybe that's not such a good idea..."

"Please? I wanna make it up to you. Just you and me."

You look at Wanda and she shrugs, leaving it up to you,

"Alright. This is your last chance."

"Awesome."

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tony stark x daughter!reader #jason todd x reader insert #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine

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osakaso5 · 3 years

Text

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 5: To All Of You In The Past

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Yamato Nikaido: Morning, Yaotome. Sorry for making you drop by so early in the morning.

Gaku Yaotome: It's cool. I was free, anyway.

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah, Yaotome. Morning. Have you had breakfast yet? I can make you a little something if not.

Gaku Yaotome: I'm good.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! What a thick file you have. Is that an album, by any chance?

Gaku Yaotome: Yeah.

Nagi Rokuya: What about yours, Yamato?

Yamato Nikaido: Me and Yaotome were chatting the other day, and we realized our photos for the show might be too similar.

Mitsuki Izumi: You and Yaotome's? How come?

Yamato Nikaido: Both our dads work in the entertainment industry.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us are only children.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore paper helmets on Children's Day.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore jinbei in the evenings.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore hakamas on New Year's.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore yukatas to summer festivals.

Yamato Nikaido: Both of us wore golfwear in the autumn.

Gaku Yaotome: Both of us wore winter sportswear in the winter.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow, that's nice! I had no idea your dad was as doting as Yamato-san's, Yaotome.

Gaku Yaotome: I wouldn't call him doting. He's just been trying to get me into the industry since before I could remember.

Gaku Yaotome: Unlike Nikaido's, these pictures are nothing but promotional materials.

Yamato Nikaido: It's not like my old man doted on me, either. He just wanted to relieve his guilt by showering his illegitimate kid with presents.

Yamato Nikaido: If anyone here was spoiled, it's gotta be Nagi, right? What with him being a prince and all.

Nagi Rokuya: Would you like to see my favorite horse?

Gaku Yaotome: An actual prince on a white steed!?

Mitsuki Izumi: Looking good, Nagi! Who's that on the light brown horse behind you?

Nagi Rokuya: My brother.

Yamato Nikaido: Oh, Seto-san! He looks super young here!!! Like a textbook pretty boy!

Gaku Yaotome: Wow. So this dude's Rokuya Senior. I'd like to meet him someday. Bring him over if he's ever in Japan.

Yamato Nikaido: That's a prince you're talking about. You'll end up causing some kind of diplomatic scandal if you call him stuff like "Rokuya Senior" or "this dude".

Gaku Yaotome: Ah, right. What should I call him then? Prince Senior? His Royal Brotherliness?

Nagi Rokuya: Just "Prince Seto" will do.

Gaku Yaotome: If Prince Seto ever comes to Japan, I wanna meet him. I'll feed him the best Japanese food he's ever had.

Nagi Rokuya: Thanks! I am sure he would love that.

Gaku Yaotome: What about you, Izumi Senior? What kind of picture did you pick?

Mitsuki Izumi: This one! Ta-dah!

Yamato Nikaido: Ooh! You're doing a parody of Zero's Midnight! Looks cool!

Gaku Yaotome: It's his most iconic album cover, and you completely nailed it! Where'd you get the costume?

Mitsuki Izumi: My parents made it. Iori helped too, with the accessories and stuff.

Nagi Rokuya: Wonderful! You were a little star! The loveliest of idols!

Gaku Yaotome: It's a great photo! I'm willing to bet your Zero cosplay'll be the most exciting one on the show!

Mitsuki Izumi: Thanks! What kind of photos did you two have in mind?

Yamato Nikaido: Well...

Gaku Yaotome: Let's see that album of yours, Nikaido. I'll help you choose.

Yamato Nikaido: You wanna pick out my photo?

Gaku Yaotome: I'll give you suggestions. Feel free to do the same with mine.

Yamato Nikaido: What? That's a pretty tall order. I have to be careful not to pick anything your fans might jump me over...

Mitsuki Izumi: Let's see 'em. I'll help too.

Nagi Rokuya: In that case, I will help Yaotome-shi choose the loveliest Yamato we can find.

Gaku Yaotome: ...There sure are a lot of those in here.

Nagi Rokuya: OH... It is nothing but lovely Yamatos.

Mitsuki Izumi: Seriously? Lemme see.

Yamato Nikaido: Oh, come on! They're not that big of a deal!

Gaku Yaotome: Now there's a smile that'll melt your heart.

Nagi Rokuya: Yes indeed.

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... He's totally got the look of a spoiled rich kid!

Yamato Nikaido: Stoooop!!!

Mitsuki Izumi: You've been telling people to count on you, when you were like this yourself!? You must work so hard to put up that leader front!

Yamato Nikaido: I-it's not like that!!!

Mitsuki Izumi: It's fine! You're a man, just admit it!!! We can hug it out later!

Yamato Nikaido: I... I don't need your hugs..!

Gaku Yaotome: You look like you'll burst out crying as soon as someone pinches your cheek.

Nagi Rokuya: Hm... It does not look as if you were ever bullied.

Yamato Nikaido: Crap. Now I wanna drop out of this project..!

Gaku Yaotome: It's nothing to be ashamed of. I like this photo. The one where you're eating melon.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! How lovely, pretty, and cute! You were so sweet, Yamato!

Mitsuki Izumi: It's super cute! Looks like little Yamato here loved his melon! Isn't that nice!?

Yamato Nikaido: "Loved my melon"..?

Gaku Yaotome: A melon farmer could use it for an advertisement. That's how nice you look here.

Nagi Rokuya: It is the very picture of happiness. We should hang it on the living room wall.

Yamato Nikaido: Stop it, seriously...

Gaku Yaotome: Jokes aside, it's a nice photo. It shows off what a warm-hearted guy you are. Let's use this one.

Yamato Nikaido: Really..?

Gaku Yaotome: Trust me. It's this one or nothing.

Yamato Nikaido: I guess I'll use it, then... Ugh... I bet my face is gonna be bright red when they show this... I'll need to wear at least three pairs of glasses to cover it up.

Mitsuki Izumi: Don't be silly. Instead of worrying about your own picture, why don't you pick something for Yaotome already?

Yamato Nikaido: I could pick one at random with my eyes closed, and he'd probably just be his usual cool self in it.

Gaku Yaotome: I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult. Either way, no closing your eyes.

Yamato Nikaido: Damn. This one's like something out of a manga... How were you this cool-looking in grade school..?

Mitsuki Izumi: He looks super stylish..! And check out that charismatic look in his eyes!

Nagi Rokuya: Why, it almost rivals mine!

Gaku Yaotome: I've got some goofier ones in there, too. Like this one with the wooden chopsticks...

Yamato Nikaido: No way. That one's way out. I don't want the face you're making to backfire and make you even more popular somehow.

Gaku Yaotome: What do I need to do for you to like even one of my pictures..?

Yamato Nikaido: Your thoughts, Mitsu?

Mitsuki Izumi: I'll let you decide, since Yaotome did the same for you.

Yamato Nikaido: You're mean. And here you were, offering to hug me just a minute ago...

Nagi Rokuya: Perhaps we should hang this sweet Yamato on the living room wall after all?

Yamato Nikaido: No! Hmm... Let's see...

Yamato Nikaido: How about this one?

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... I like it.

Nagi Rokuya: OH... Has he fallen over, I wonder? His knee is injured.

Mitsuki Izumi: He looks hurt, but even though he's got tears in his eyes, he's trying really hard to hold it together.

Yamato Nikaido: Classic Yaotome move.

Gaku Yaotome: Is it? I guess I'll go with this one, then.

Mitsuki Izumi: Did President Yaotome take this one?

Gaku Yaotome: Probably.

Mitsuki Izumi: What kind of parent takes a picture when their kid's hurt..?

Gaku Yaotome: My old man never was the type to run over all worried. He'd just stare at me and tell me to get up.

Yamato Nikaido: Would he at least reward you for doing as he said?

Gaku Yaotome: Of course not. He'd just go off on one of his sermons. Telling me that I was too rowdy and careless.

Gaku Yaotome: Then again... I was tough enough to get up after a little fall.

Mitsuki Izumi: So that makes it okay?

Gaku Yaotome: Doesn't mean I didn't wish he had worried, or ran over, or picked me up...

Gaku Yaotome: But if he had, I'd just have gotten mad and told him I was fine on my own.

Gaku Yaotome: So, uh, I'm thinking we were fine the way we were.

Yamato Nikaido: He sounds strict... But I think that's cooler than if he’d just have pampered you, and not told you to do things for yourself.

Gaku Yaotome: You looked pretty happy being pampered, though. I mean, just look at this melon farm posterboy...

Yamato Nikaido: Stop calling me that.

Mitsuki Izumi: I guess our childhoods affect us all in different ways.

Nagi Rokuya: Yes. We each have our own, wonderful tales.

Nagi Rokuya: Hello, my friends from the past. I will meet you soon enough.

Mitsuki Izumi: Haha, talking to our pictures, are you?

Yamato Nikaido: What are you, a time traveler?

Gaku Yaotome: No need to be soft on me, if you ever go to the past. I'll work things out for myself.

Nagi Rokuya: OK. Hello. I am Nagi Rokuya, time traveler. And I love you all.

Nagi Rokuya: I could not be more excited for when we finally meet. It will be so nice to see you. Until then, I wish you well.

Nagi Rokuya: Please be happy.

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

Winchester Welcome

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 3,878

Summary: Everyone’s ecstatic about the impending birth of your twins, but since when do these things ever go off without a hitch for the Winchesters?

Warnings: labor/birth/complications (but nothing too graphic), potential medical inaccuracies, slight angst, bit of language, dean being an awesome big bro?

A/N: this is part 2 of ‘Dean, Don’t’ (though i think it can be read as a stand alone) which was very kindly requested by @carryonmywaywardbucky, so if you don’t like it, you can go take it up with her (jk!). also, i’m so sorry, i don’t know where all this angst/drama came from 😬

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST

Sam had one foot up on the bench seat and the other planted firmly on the floor of the Impala. He had managed to maneuver you between his legs, where he could offer comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

With one hand pressed against the side of your colossal baby bump, Sam could feel your stomach tense up each time a contraction came, and he always urged you to breathe through them. His face would be nuzzled within your hair, while his other hand kept itself busy rubbing along your neck, shoulders, arms, back, and hips. Indeed, the man had become remarkably handsy ever since you began to show and you unwittingly loved it, even now, in the throes of labor.

“Ugh, Sam!” You grabbed his wrist in a moment of frenzied pain.

“I’m here, baby! I got you, it’s OK.” Sam burrowed his nose into your neck in consolation, and you were beyond glad he had decided to join you in the backseat, despite the tight quarters.

As the blur of buildings and trees whizzed by, your contractions intensified in both strength and frequency. “This hurts more than that time I got shot,” you groaned miserably.

Sam laughed but continued to offer gentle susurrations in his low, soothing tone, lips grazing along the shell of your ear, whilst his doting, reverent fingers brushed the hair away from your face before travelling downwards to work their magic along the base of your spine.

Although Dean tried to grant the two (soon to be four) of you some privacy, he was still able to hear every whisper of love and encouragement Sam uttered your way. He knew that there was nearly nothing his brother hated more in this world than to see you in pain and figured Sam had been doing a pretty awesome job so far, considering. And you, of course - as proven countless times before - had the pain tolerance of an indie wrestler, and Dean had never been more aware of or impressed by the fact than right now.

On this, your boyfriend agreed wholeheartedly. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing so good,” he commended with pride as you huffed through yet another massive cramp, your hands laid protectively across your distended belly.

But something didn’t feel right. Your contractions were growing closer together at an alarming rate, though no one cared to vocalize it, and although you were tempted to pull your usual shit of swallowing your discomfort in silence, you reminded yourself that this time it was about more than just you.

“Ohhh,” you finally let yourself moan aloud, “Sam, I think you might have to check me.”

“Check you?” Dean asked from the driver’s seat; his voice was a little higher than usual.

“To see how far she’s dilated,” Sam replied for you. “Baby, I can’t do that unless Dean pulls over. Do you think we should stop the car? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you rasped, “There’s just a lot of pressure and it feels like there’s no break between the contractions anymore.” The string of words left you panting, and you leaned further back into Sam’s embrace.

“What’s the sitch, guys? We stopping the car or should I keep driving?” Dean questioned as he turned his classic rock down a little lower.

“Keep driving,” you confirmed weakly.

Dean complied but made a point to meet Sam’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They shared a brief moment of wordless, brotherly communication, after which Sam nodded resolutely, his jaw set and eyes ablaze with a mixture of fear and rigid determination.

As the tension in the car mounted, however, the tension in your body seemed to fade. You felt awful for becoming so depleted this early into your labor. You hadn’t even given birth to one of the twins yet, and already you were feeling drained. How could you possibly carry on this way? But all these thoughts quickly disappeared when the weariness became too much.

“Y/N?” Sam looked down at you with furrowed brows. He could feel your body growing limp within his arms.

“Sammy, I don’t feel so good,” you whispered hoarsely. Dean would have thought this was a very normal thing to say during labor, but the change of tone in your voice alerted him to something more.

Sam too, was immediately alert. He scanned your form and noticed two terrifying things right away: first, there was blood on your pants and second, your eyelids seemed to be drooping involuntarily.

“Y/N? Baby, stay with me,” he pleaded as he gave your shoulders a light shake, “Come on, wake up Y/N!” But the darkness was beginning to take over, and you could no longer respond.

“Dean, she’s bleeding,” Sam spoke as an urgent aside, his heart pounding wildly inside his chest.

Dean could tell his brother was beginning to panic, just as he always did when your well-being was on the line, and he knew he needed to remain calm for Sam. “What? OK, just hold on, Y/N/N! We’re almost there.” Dean’s lead foot pushed even harder against the gas pedal.

Behind him, Sam held you tightly in his arms, filling your ears with delicate murmurs of reassurance, desperate for you to wake up. “Come on, baby. You promised me. Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be OK.” But even as he said this, he saw more blood seep through your pants. “Dean, drive faster!”

About to tell Sam that he was already going thirty over the speed limit, Dean made the wise decision to shut up and simply put the pedal to the metal, his face a mask of absolute focus.

It was only a matter of minutes, during which you drifted in and out of consciousness, before the Impala screeched to a halt in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. Dean scrambled out of the car at lightning speed and ran around to open the rear, passenger-side door for you.

Likewise, Sam wasted no time lifting you into his arms and bounding out of the car, practically sprinting towards the reception area. It was an impressive feat of strength, even for Sam, but Dean knew his little brother would have moved mountains for you and those babies if he needed to.

A nurse was there to greet Sam upon his frantic and rather rowdy entrance.

“Help! I need help! My wife’s in labor with our twins, and she passed out on the way here! Her water already broke a-and she’s bleeding!”

The two of you had created fake identities when you decided on a hospital birth, concerned about the chances of complications for delivering twins (and big ones at that), and Sam had never been more grateful for the foresight. He had suggested you go with the credentials of husband and wife to make things easier and ensure the hospital would give him all the privileges of a marital status. Fortunately, despite his hysterical state, Sam hadn’t even hesitated when he called you his wife; the word just seemed to roll off his tongue naturally.

Meanwhile, Dean glanced at his beloved car for a moment, its keys left haphazardly in the ignition. There was a slight grimace on his face as he faltered, considering whether he should go park his Baby in a more legal location or let her get towed and head directly to you and his brother. When he looked back towards the ER and saw your head lolling against Sam’s shoulder, he made his decision. Sam needed him, and Dean would be damned if he didn’t fulfill his lifelong job as the solid and unwavering base of support for his baby brother at this pivotal moment.

“We need a stretcher over here!” The nurse hollered out before turning back to Sam, “OK sir, can you tell me when your wife’s water broke?”

Sam blanched for an instant. He couldn’t focus on anything but your unconscious form. “Um… it was before we left, about, I don’t know-“

“About an hour ago,” Dean supplied as he strode up to his brother’s side. “And we noticed the bleeding around fifteen minutes ago.”

Sam nodded appreciatively, his eyes still wide and frenetic. A stretcher suddenly appeared next to him and he reluctantly laid you down on it, opting to grasp for your hand instead. Dean was busy informing the doctors of your situation, but Sam couldn’t hear any of it.

“OK, let’s go!” a male doctor called out. “Get an OR prepped just in case. Tell them we’ve got a female in active labor with twins, possible placental abruption.”

Trotting alongside your stretcher as the hospital staff pushed you down the hall, one of Sam’s large hands still held on firmly to yours while the other wiped the hair away from your face. “Baby, if you can hear me, please just stay strong, OK? Everything’s gonna be alright. I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

As if you had heard his prayers, your eyelids began to flutter open. Sam nearly collapsed with relief, but he willed his legs to continue pumping, his eyes never leaving your face. He waited as you tilted your head this way and that, trying to make out your new surroundings.

“S-Sam?” Your voice was still feeble, but Sam had never been happier to hear it.

“Oh, thank god! I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he choked out in a sob.

“Where are we?”

“The hospital. Dean got you here in record time. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He repeated. “Just stay awake for me, OK?”

You tried to nod, but you weren’t sure how well it translated since every muscle in your body felt utterly exhausted.

“She’s regained consciousness. Let’s bring her to the delivery room first.”

As soon as you were wheeled in, an oxygen mask materialized before you, and despite your weak protests was promptly attached to your face. Regardless, you barely got the chance to take a few deep breaths before the contractions began to pick up exactly where they left off.

Yet it seemed like an eternity until the urge to push finally and abruptly overcame your body. You gasped, mouth forming a wide “O”, as you felt your first baby descend swiftly through the birth canal.

“What? What is it?!” Sam inquired hurriedly in trepidation.

“She needs to push,” the doctor answered for you. “Alright Y/N, on your next contraction, I want you to put your chin to your chest and bear down for me as hard as you can, you understand?”

Your answer was a resounding growl as you squeezed your eyes shut and gave your first push of many.

Sam never left your side and he never let go of your hand. He could only marvel at your strength as he tried desperately to provide what little physical and moral support he could. He wanted so badly to kiss you but with the mask in the way, his lips could only settle upon your sweaty forehead.

It took hours, but eventually…

“The baby’s out; it’s a boy! Time of birth - 2:37am.”

Sam was granted only a second to rejoice, his iridescent eyes lighting up at the sight and sound of his firstborn entering the cruel world.

“The mother’s hemorrhaging!” a nurse bellowed and Sam instantly paled, his gaze returning at once to your fatigued figure on the bed.

“We need to get the second baby out now! Call the OR, tell them we’ve got an emergency C-section coming in,” the lead doctor commanded in reply.

Sam watched helplessly as the blood drained from your face and your eyes refused to open yet again. “No, no, no! Please, baby. Please don’t do this to me. Stay with me, Y/N. I need you. Our babies need you!” Sam pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Damn it!” he cursed as the tears began to fall. Sam rose to his full height, his hands balled into tight fists as he pumped them erratically through the air. His imposing form might have frightened some of the nurses if they hadn’t seen the look of horror and anguish that engulfed his features, or witnessed his unequivocal love and devotion to you throughout the labor and delivery process.

Sam forced himself to heave deep breathes as he observed the medical professionals bustling about your room, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Where’s my baby? At least tell me my baby is alright?” he demanded in a shaky tone to no one in particular.

“Your son is just fine, sir. They’ve taken him to the NICU to get checked up but from what I saw, he’s a big and healthy baby boy,” one of the nurses provided with a cautious smile.

“My son…” Sam breathed, looking back down at your unconscious form, “Our son… Did you hear that, baby? Oh, god!” He wanted to take you in his arms, to simply will the life back into you, but the doctors were swarming around your bed, poking and prodding at your still swollen abdomen.

“Sir, you need to back up and let the doctors do their job.”

Sam’s chest puffed up on instinct and he was about to retort when Dean, who had been watching in vain from afar, was suddenly there to hold him back. His hands gripped Sam’s biceps from behind and he pulled his brother back with all the strength he could muster, but Sam would not budge. Dean had no choice but to come around to Sam’s front and push against his inflated chest with both hands, while eyeing his little brother with a pointed look that told him to listen to the nurse, that there was nothing he could do right now to help you.

When Sam finally relented, he could no longer hold back his sobs. He had never felt so helpless, so useless. Dean managed to pull him into a waiting room before he broke down completely.

“Hey, you listen to me.” Dean’s ‘big brother voice’ was in full effect, “Your girl in there, is one hell of a fighter. We have seen her go through hell and back both with and for you, literally. And I know you’d do the same for her, Sammy. And so does she, alright? So I know for a fact that Y/N is gonna be fighting with everything she’s got to get back to you and your family. Just like she always does. I mean, hey, she’s practically a Winchester, right? And since when have we ever let death get the best of us?”

At his brother’s last point, Sam’s heart jolted in his chest. You really were practically a Winchester. And he’d loved the way it felt being able to call you his wife and being referred to as your husband in return.

The next hour passed at an agonizingly slow rate, with Sam and Dean fidgeting silently in their seats through most it.

“Mr. Windsor?” When the doctor got no response, he tried again, “Family of Y/N Windsor?”

At the sound of your name, Sam vaulted off his chair, realizing he’d nearly missed his calling. Hurtling towards the doctor, Sam almost miscalculated his braking distance. “I’m here! That’s me, I’m her husband!” he burst forth breathlessly.

“Well I’m here to tell you Y/N’s out of surgery. The C-section was a success, and she should be waking up shortly. Oh and congratulations, you have another son.”

“Wait, so she and the babies are OK?” Dean checked from his spot behind Sam.

“Yes, we have no reason to believe she or either of the babies are in any further danger.”

Sam released the largest breath known to mankind. “C-can I see her? Can I see them?”

The doctor sent him a smile and a nod before giving them your room number. Sam was off like a bullet with Dean hot behind his heels, but when they reached your door, the older Winchester elected to stay back a little, wanting to permit your new family some time alone first.

You were just coming to your senses when Sam walked in. Adjusting your bed to a seated position, you looked up to find him staring at you, “Sam?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled before falling to his knees at your bedside. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.” Sam buried his head in your thigh, so you ran your fingers lovingly through his soft chestnut locks, allowing him a moment of reprieve.

When he raised his head to face you, his eyes were red and cheeks stained with tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean? Are the babies OK?”

“Yeah, they’re fine but the doctor said your complications were most likely the result of previous injuries and the fact that you were carrying big babies.”

You huffed a gentle sigh, “Baby, we both knew there was a higher risk associated with a multiple pregnancy. And of course my hunter background wouldn’t be any help. But how is any of that your fault?”

Sam didn’t respond with words; he merely fixed his watery puppy dog gaze upon yours, which just about caused you to break down with him, but you had promised yourself to always denounce this type of behavior. “Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? I never wanna hear you apologizing for things you can’t control. And I especially never wanna hear you apologize for any part of who you are, because I am so completely and irrevocably in love with that person that it hurts me just the same, do you understand?”

Sam nodded and you wiped the tears from his cheekbones, beckoning him to stand back up, though his head was still pointed down.

“Hey, I’m OK, alright?” You grabbed his hand, waiting until his shoulders visibly relaxed before adding impatiently, “Now when do I get to see my babies? Please tell me I can see them now.”

“Y-yeah, lemme go bring them over.”

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling a surge of energy flow back into your body at the thought of finally meeting your twins. So when Sam returned, wheeling two hospital cribs through the door, you were virtually bouncing with anticipation.

“You were right, baby.” Sam shot you a handsome little smirk.

“What?”

“We’ve got two boys.”

“Really?” You gasped, the emotions finally catching up with you after all the hardships you’d faced in the past twenty-four hours.

“What? No ‘I told you so’?” Sam teased lightly.

But you were much too in awe for that. “No, just… gimme,” you pouted, holding your arms out expectantly.

“You sure?”

“Sam, if you don’t hand me at least one of my babies right now, I swear to Chuck-“

“Alright, alright, no need to bring God into this,” Sam chuckled, sliding your firstborn carefully into your eager and waiting arms.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect.”

“Yeah? So is this little guy,” Sam had picked up the other infant and was beaming fondly down at him.

You spared a glance at them and giggled at the sight.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… he looks so small in your arms.”

Sam’s entire being exuded radiance, “So what are we gonna name them?”

It wasn’t long before you called for Dean and he strolled somewhat nervously into your room.

Cradling his eldest son in his arms, Sam sent his brother a warm and proud smile, “Dean, we’d like you to meet Robert John and…”

“Lucas Dean Winchester,” you finished, gesturing to the baby boy in your arms. “Well, Luke and Robbie for short.”

Dean’s emerald eyes grew wide and a little wet. He looked back and forth between you and Sam as if to confirm what he had heard was true.

You smiled at him, nodding. “You’ve always meant the world to Sam, and if I’m honest, you mean the world to me too. And I am beyond certain that these boys will grow to love you no less than either of us. Besides, none of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you knew he needed to process his emotions.

“That’s awesome,” he said, though you knew he meant ‘thank you’.

“You wanna hold them?” Sam asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean grinned back, then looked toward you.

You held back a laugh, “You wanna start with your namesake, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shot him a mini bitch face, “Sorry, I-I mean, heck yeah!”

Snorting, you carefully handed Dean the bundle of blankets in which Lucas Dean was wrapped.

“There’s just one more thing I wanna say,” Sam’s voice brought your attention back to him.

You gave him a curious look and he seemed to almost blush under your gaze, which only confused you further.

“Y/N, I never thought I’d get to have all this, but you’ve made me so unbelievably happy, and I know it shouldn’t matter, but there’s been something ruminating in the back of my mind ever since we got to the hospital- no, actually ever since we made those fake IDs.”

Now you were really lost, eyeing him perplexedly. You looked over to Dean for some help, but he seemed not in the least bit surprised. In fact, he appeared to be perfectly content, paying zero attention to you and his brother and cooing happily at baby Luke as he bounced him in his arms.

“Baby,” Sam continued, “I know you’ve never really wanted or cared about this, and I know we can never make it a hundred percent official, but- Y/N, will you marry me?”

It was a good thing you were no longer holding any babies, because Sam’s question took you completely off guard.

“W-what?” you stammered, staring at him with large eyes.

Sam chuckled and looked down at Robbie, “I think your mom heard me just fine, don’t you, buddy?”

Your mouth stayed open for some time as you tried to absorb it all.

“Any time now, Y/N. Any time,” Dean interrupted without glancing up from Luke.

“Y-yes!” You finally replied.

“Really?” Sam asked again.

“Yeah! Obviously! I mean, who else would I marry but my incredible, brilliant, tall, and gorgeous baby daddy?”

At this point, Sam had passed Dean his oldest son, helping him balance both babies in his arms, before rushing back over to you. He took your face in both hands and kissed you like it was the first and last time. You leaned up to reach him and run your fingers through his shimmering tresses but you refrained from taking the kiss too far, figuring you’d save Dean the torture given all he had just done for your family.

“Well, alright! Two Winchesters coming in, and five going out. Nice work, Sammy!”

You released Sam and sent Dean a bitch face of your own.

“But- I mean, none of this would have been possible without you, Y/N/N,” he quickly amended, “I mean, who could forget that you nearly died bringing these two to the world? What’s that, the third time you’ve cheated Death now? That alone is enough to make you an official Winchester in my books.”

“Well, technically we’re all Windsors in this hospital.”

A/N #2: thank you for reading! ...i’m thinking of turning this into a series of sorts, like a collection of stories about sam and reader’s lives after the twins (because i’ve got iDeAs brewing), would anyone be interested? ❤️ also, here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com:

tagging some peeps who seemed to enjoy part 1 :) @carryonmywaywardbucky @girl-next-door-writes @sams-sass @swiftlymoniquesblog @austin-winchester67 @idreamofhazel @hoboal87

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x pregnant!reader #sam winchester x you #daddy!sam #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #fanfiction #fanfic #one-shot #series #they chose family #fanart #redbubble #lexicolor #text #my writing

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lupically · 3 years

Text

#F7B55E | CHILDE.

genre | fluff, friendship with low romance undertone

word count | 1438

warning | none

note | i just finished childe’s story quest and maybe he is quite the boy, after all.

childe has not stopped thinking about you. or, specifically, he has not stopped thinking about the moment you thanked him for being the brother you never had.

he was confused at first. sitting slacked against the wall, hiding away from his darling little brother teucer after destroying multiple ruin guards at once, thus causing a commotion through his weak body, childe watched your unpredictable expression with confusion he has never mustered before anyone else.

he wondered for the reason behind that expression on your face. the bitterly softened eyes, the upsettingly smiling lips; there was a difficult longing in your eyes, for someone he reckoned, and a remorseful nostalgia he couldn't read through yet was desperately curious about. you looked at him, you laughed, hoarsely as if you could no longer speak without a whisper, and you thanked him for being the brother you never had.

all because he was protecting teucer. albeit, he did it through such spoiling means that it has turned the little boy stubborn and somewhat obnoxious, childe was still protecting his brother nonetheless, in a way nobody ever tried to shield you.

but childe didn't know that then. he just wondered why—what was the thanks for? he certainly has never acted brotherly toward you, so why the sudden surge of painful gratitude?

there was a story behind it that he didn't know about, and truth be told, he was going all fussy about wanting to hear more of it. the expression you held, he has been thinking about it so much he could no longer forget it, even though it was so upsetting to think about your disappointment and loneliness.

you two were not best friends. he barely knew you, and you him, but he wanted to change that. if it was his choice to make, he would rather see you smile all the time. it was something—a sudden affection, but not love—that came over him, he was unsure of it.

"hey, little one!"

you turned away from the ocean and immediately frowned when you saw childe leisurely walking toward you. ignoring your unhidden dismay, he approaches you with a smile and stopped to stand beside you, silently thinking about how to approach the topic with you.

"i'm not little," you mumbled to yourself, but still your voice was loud enough for him to hear.

"huh? what did you say? i'm sorry but i am having trouble hearing you from all the way up here–" he looked around the place before finally, he tilted his head down to find your head arched up to glare at him. he smiled mischievously, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair. "oh, didn't catch you there, sorry about that."

you swatted his hand away with a grumble of disbelief. curse his height! you weren't so short yourself, but childe was, unfortunately, taller than your average boy. even then, though, he did not have to play the tall card to this extend! ruffling your hair like a child and all!

"we are the same age, childe!" you scoffed as you turned away. "if anybody is a little one, it's teucer, alright?"

childe laughed obnoxiously as he always does, which only made you frown more.

it wasn't so much the condescendingly unreliable tone in his laugh that left you in such angry bafflement all the time, but how you have come to learn that his laughter was always fake, which, to sum it up easy, childe lies.

that should not be a surprise at this point, especially after teucer's last visit and your discovery of childe's toy selling facade. but, still, the fact that he was such a casual liar stirred up dismay within you.

even though, curse the lord, sometimes he only lies to protect his beloved, to shield the innocence that does not deserve to be ripped apart, and to defend dreams that break all too easily.

(you supposed, though, that the only reason why you hated his lies so much was because you couldn't read through him that way. you could not imagine the burdens and pain he keeps all to himself by putting a smile on his face all the time.)

(in other words, you care about childe, in ways he would not know about.)

"bringing my brother into this, that is quite low of you, [name]," childe said happily as he leaned his arm on your head. before you could move away, he added pressure to you with his body weight, and he leaned his face down to yours with a calculative glint in his eyes. "talking about brothers, right. what is it that you said the other day?"

you tried to move away from the proximity, but he has got you in a deadlock until you answer, so you shrugged with a face flushed with shyness. "what did i say?"

"about me being the brother you never had," he replied quickly, moving even closer to you with a suspicious gaze.

you sucked in a breath.

oh. that.

"it was nothing special," you whispered, your eyes rolling away to focus on anything else but his face.

"hmm? i don't believe you."

you pursed your lips. of course he could see through you.

liars see liars; you see him, and he sees you as well.

"well, even if it is something," you huffed as you reached your hand up and brought his arm away from your head after a bit of struggle, "i am not going to tell you. it's personal."

it would be awkward. how could you begin to explain your less-than-ideal family history to him, someone who loved his family to such an insane degree? he would never understand; he would never understand how some brothers are just not suited to be brothers, and some parents are just not built to be parents.

how do you tell childe that, unlike him, some family lies for greed and neglect for freedom? and somehow, despite being brought up to learn loneliness, the yearning core in your chest jumped when you saw his unconditional love, the unwarmed heart within you reached its hand out for him in hopes to get affection—a good hug, a new toy, a kind 'my darling little one,' or a brotherly head ruffle.

you could see your young, broken dreams in childe, sealing themselves back together, because he was a living hope that good brothers exist out there, that there are families out there you can count on, that there are people out there with undoubtable endearment.

you could not tell him.

childe was looking down at you with a blank, almost bored, expression. you could only stare up at him, with such unknowingly pleading eyes that childe has to force himself to not pry into the matter more despite going berserk with curiosity.

it must have been something bad if the sheer matter could bring such despair in your eyes. he wanted to know, oh, he wanted to know! because he wanted to stop it! he wanted to see you smile, he wanted to hear you bicker with him, he wanted you angry and hyper instead of sad and disappointed!

"well, i won't be able to pry it out of you if you don't want to tell me," he sighed dramatically with a shake of his head. "but don't look at me like that, my darling little one. it makes me quite upset."

you curled your hands into fists in surprise.

damn this man. sometimes you wonder if he can read minds.

"i said," you emphasized with gritted teeth, and childe's mildly frightened face made you feel great, "stop calling me little one!"

there it was—a wave of brilliant anger took over you, such brightness engulfed your strong body and soul as you threw his shoulders frustrated punches. childe could only laugh at your attempt to bruise him, not attempting to stop you and only trying to mess up your hair in the process to mess with you more.

when he sees you all worked up over his friendly teases, a rush of endearment filters through him like a sheet of colored paper, covering his nerves and his body, in a way that made him want to stay with you. this was the you he liked to see.

with him and not alone, without burdens and worries, smiling and getting annoyed.

such powerful emotions for you to feel, and such an unwise affection for him to muster.

childe smiled to himself.

unwise, but it should be fine. unwise affection is only affection, and affection is not love.

something told him he could love you, though.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #childe #genshin childe x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #childe imagines

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justcourttee · 4 years

Note

Could I request when Marinette first meets the Batfam (One as Marinette meeting the Wayne's, one as Marinette meeting the Batfam, one as Ladybug meeting the Wayne's, and one as Ladybug meeting the Batfam)

I’m so so sorry it took so long. I loved this so much and grossly underestimated how long it would take me to do this prompt justice. I decided on a whole bunch of short stories that tied together and several days of editing and rewriting left me with this.

I hope you enjoy it! @elements1999

The First Time

The first time Marinette met the Wayne’s was at a charity auction that she dragged Adrien too.

With her first year of earnings beyond her imagination, Marinette wanted to donate some to charity and who better than Bruce Wayne. She read all about his many donations and auctions, how he came to the rescue of orphaned kids and hospitals struggling to stay afloat. She might not know much about charity, but she knew this man would put her money to good use.

It didn’t take long for Adrien to wander off, his hopeless romantic self trailing after every beautiful person he saw. He advised her to find her own beautiful person, after all, this world revolved around connections, and she needed more than just Adrien.

She set her eyes on a prominent looking man around her age. His attention seemed fixed on the older men he was entertaining, their conversation dragging, but the more she watched, the more she could recognize his own boredom. If anything else tonight, at least she could save him from succumbing to social suicide.

“Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time. I had a question about, uh, the stocks of your business.”

His eyebrow cocked as a playful smirk pulled at his lips. He knew that she had no intention of doing such things with one glance. She was impressed. As he excused himself from his company, the man offered his arm which she readily took.

“Now Miss, what questions could I answer for you?”

“Hmm, well, we could start with how do you put up with such dreadful conversations for hours on end? You looked like you were five seconds away from passing out.”

Tim, she soon learned, was the business partner of Bruce Wayne and his adopted son. He mostly dealt with the partnership side of Wayne Enterprise which meant enduring boring old man for hours on end at these types of events. They continued on with small talk as they walked the ballroom, but eventually, Tim had to excuse himself to yet another group of old men.

Marinette shook her head, slightly amused at the sight of him putting on a game face. Maybe she could ask Tim to help her with the partnership side of MDC. Right now, her current co-owner was off making plans for an after-party, not a sponsor.

“This is outrageous! I have my invite right here, what do you mean not invited? Brucie gave me this,” he shoved the piece of paper into the guard's face, “this morning.”

“Sir, a paper that says, Jason, my favorite son, this is an unlimited pass, does not count as an invite. Sorry.”

“You know, something tells me you’re not really sorry.”

Marinette bit her lip trying to hold back her laughter. For the second time in one night, it looks like she would have to be the knight in shining armor stepping in to save the damsel in distress.

“Jason? I told you not to leave your invite on the counter!”

The man widened his eyes at her as she crossed her arms, a fake disappointment monopolizing her face.

“Excuse me sir, but this is my date. He didn’t arrive home on time for work, so I left his invitation on the counter! I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to forget such a small piece of paper.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry babe, please forgive me?”

The security guard didn’t look convinced, but he sidestepped allowing Jason to enter. Immediately he threw his arm over her shoulders as he dragged them away from the entrance as quickly as possible.

“First off, thanks for getting me in small fry. Second, who are you? The guards aren’t that stupid, they know we’re not together, but for some reason, it only took one look at you and they let me right in. Are you like sleeping with Bruce or something?”

Marinette’s face paled as she tried to stutter out a denial.

“Oh God,” Jason bursted into laughter, accidentally dragging her down with him as they doubled over. “Oh god, I’m sorry. It was too good, your face was too good.”

Marinette landed a punch in the man’s side with a sickening thud, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he had the audacity to ruffle her pristine hair while wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Anyways, fess up, who are you really?”

Her time with Jason was much different from Tim’s. She honestly couldn’t believe that they were raised by the same man. Tim was constantly calculating his every sentence, watching her for signs of a slip-up or lie. He was composed the entire time, careful not to insult her as if she was a potential business partner. Jason? Not so much.

They traded insults and jabs at each other before turning their attention to the room insulting anyone who dared to step into their line of view. Marinette would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit disappointed when he had to leave to find Bruce.

She spent the next few minutes wandering around the room until another damsel caught her eye. To put things lightly, Marinette was a little confused about who she was saving. The smaller man was maybe a couple inches taller than her and while the taller man was looming over him. However, it was the look in the smaller one’s eyes that screamed danger.

“Hello sir, I seem to have wandered off from my group, would you happen to have the time? I wouldn’t want to be late to the auction.”

Whatever argument the two were engaged in instantly came to a standstill as they seized each other up before turning to face her. The taller one flashed her a blinding smile before introducing himself as Dick.

“My son here is Damian and I’m sure he’d be glad to show a beautiful woman like yourself back to the auction site.” He placed a hand on Damian’s head, giving his hair a ruffle for good measure.

“You are not my father Grayson, unhand me at once.”

Marinette covered her mouth slightly trying to hide her giggles. She knew these two. They were the few exceptions to the press rule, always doing interviews as a brotherly team, maintaining the loving family image.

“What is so funny woman?”

Marinette cleared her throat trying to swallow any remaining laughter.

“Oh nothing, it’s just, you all are so different than I imagined, it’s quite refreshing.”

Damian shot her a quizzical look as if he wasn’t sure whether to be complimented or offended.

“Well, if you like little bird so much, we should definitely get you back to the auction! This year, he graciously volunteered to be the surprise celebrity date.”

“Gracious is not the correct word Grayson. You all blackmailed me.”

“Details, details, so what do you say, Miss?” Dick waved off the accusation before offering his hand to her.

“Marinette and I would be delighted to save him from the woman here.”

They chatted idly as they made their way back, neither oblivious to the slight red tinting Damian’s cheeks. When the time came, Marinette made sure to place the first and last bid for Damian Wayne. And before the end of the night, she had four numbers to match her four new friends.

“Marinetteee, I didn’t find a single soul tonight that was there for a good time. What a bunch of sticks.”

Marinette chuckled as she slid into the limo, patting Adrien’s head with fake sympathy.

“A bunch of sticks indeed.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Marinette met the notorious Batman, she had gotten herself in over her head.

She had just wanted to find this new fabric shop that Jason had suggested, who would’ve known that one wrong turn in Gotham and she would end up in Rogue territory.

It had started just a handful of punks, intent on robbing her. Sure they had some knives, but she wasn’t worried at all. She only started freaking out when they seemed to duplicate right before her eyes. At the rate she was going, she was going to be overrun, no question about it.

At least until the man dropped from the sky. Marinette didn’t have time to process what had happened, instead she used the distraction to knock out the nearest goon. Even with the new help, they were still being overwhelmed.

“It’s time to get you out of here Miss, unfortunately, the two of us are not going to be enough for this guy.”

“This guy?”

Surely he wasn’t insinuating these masked men were one guy, right? He didn’t answer her as he pulled her into his side, sending his grapple into the dark sky. The landing was slightly rough as Marinette rolled to a stop, stumbling to her feet to get a good look at the man.

His suit was odd. Everything was fine from the coordinating red and black to the yellow robin perched on his breastplate, but what really did it for her was the spandex black hood covering his hair and eyes seemingly connected to his cape.

“My God, Is that connected to your hood?” Marinette pinched at the material covering half his head, amazed as it snapped back into place immediately. “You know you could really hurt yourself like this?”

She paced around him admiring the handiwork of his suit. If she had to make a guess, this was most likely Red Robin. Her eyes narrowed in around the neck, a small string almost unnoticeable sat at the base.

“Ohh I get it now, you pull this little string right here and it’s like an emergency relief. Okay, I’ll let the weird hood slide.”

He seemed to pay her no mind as he slipped the small device in his hand back into one of his many pockets.

“Ma’am, backup is on the way, I’m going to have to ask you to stay right here until one of us lets you down.”

“Hmm, would this be considered kidnapping?”

Red Robin stumbled over himself trying to explain that it was for her own safety, that Batman would never kidnap her. It took everything in her not to bust out laughing from his distress. She waved off his rambling as he watched him jump back down into the herd of men below.

Now that she was alone, maybe she could transform, help him. She turned from her spot only to come face to face with another superhero.

“Oh no, you can’t skip away, I’m pretty sure Red told you to hold your position.”

“Dude, I just really was trying to get to this 24-hour fabric shop that my friend told me about. I can’t help that danger just seems to follow me.”

The man clicked his tongue before reaching out to ruffle her hair in an annoyingly familiar way.

“Sorry small fry, just you and me until Red down there can relay a plan.”

Small fry? Only one obnoxiously fun person in Gotham City has referred to her like that and the more she stared him down, the more the gears started to turn in her head.

“Do I look good from that angle? Am I mesmerizing to you? Is the moonlight reflecting off my hair blinding you?”

If she had any doubts before, the ridiculous poses from the man in front of her only confirmed what she had thought. Before she could ask, the man quickly placed his finger up to his ear, his face dropping to deadly serious.

“Okay, so princess, I’m going to have to ask you nicely to stay up here. Robin should be here at any moment to make sure of it, but the situation just got a little bit more dire. Nice meeting you though, try not to fall in love with me when I save your life.”

Marinette wouldn't even respond as she leaned over the edge watching the fight ensue down below. Another two heroes had arrived, one in a blue and black suit, the thin mask concealing his eyes. The other?

“Oh mon Dieu, that’s Batman!”

“Are you always this obvious?” A hand barely touched her shoulder and on instinct, Marinette gripped it, pulling the attacker over her back and slamming them into the roof.

“Oh, oh, oh, I’m so sorry Robin. I guess I got a little spooked from the fight down below.”

The man stared at her with an unreadable expression before adjusting his hood, scooting a couple inches back before standing. He kept one hand on a small piece jutting out of his ear that she only assumed was a comm as if waiting for instructions.

“Hey, do you know the identity of the other’s down there?”

“Tt, of course I do, what kind of question is that?”

She shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Nothing much, just wondering. You know, Red Robin said something about those goons being one guy, does that mean you guys are looking for one person in particular to stop the clones?”

“How do you know so much about Multiplex?”

“I don’t,” she shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as she could. “I’m just trying to get a grasp of my situation. If you were to ask me though, they’re not going to find him in the crowd down there and even if Batman is looking for the direction they could be coming from, he has no vantage point to see.”

Robin paused for a moment as if he was going to regret the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Fine, if I were to ask you, where do you think the main copy is?”

Marinette pointed wordlessly to the building they were standing on. Reaching out, she grabbed Robin’s hand pulling him to where she stood.

“Unhand me wo-” Marinette placed her finger on his lips waiting for him to silence before motioning over the edge to where the alleyway entrance was propped open.

“When I first got here, that’s the direction the first three came from. Now if my theory is correct, this Multiplex guy doesn’t need to be on sight to create copies and once he creates a copy, that copy can multiply no matter how many times it’s beaten down. So him sending only three out, can make six men minimum, right?”

Robin simply nodded, but she could see the wheel’s turning in his head, matching her own.

“You’re saying that if I enter that door down there, he should be somewhere in this warehouse that we’re standing on.”

“I’m saying if we go down there with an inhibitor collar, we can help Batman.”

“Absolutely not Mar-Miss. It’s too dangerous for a civilian. You can stay right here.”

All it took was one reminder that she had flipped him on instinct and he was the trained one for Robin to bring her down with him. In a matter of minutes, Robin had taken down Multiplex, surprised that she was right.

They were in the middle of an argument when the others stepped through the door, all wearing the same shocked expressions.

“Miss, what were you doing here this late at night?”

Marinette paused, the sudden realization that she was indeed standing in front of Batman, arguing with his sidekick that she was more competent than he was, how embarrassing.

“I really was just looking for this 24-hour fabric store that my friend Jason told me about. Do any of you know anything about that? Oh, better yet, can someone take me there? I really have so much work to be done and so little time to do it in.”

The five of them exchanged glances as if they weren’t sure who should go. It was like watching an involuntary ‘nose-goes’ game.

“Robin will take you.”

There was a slight grumble, but even he couldn’t hide the blush peeking out from under his mask. It only took five minutes by grapple and as he sat her down on the pavement, Marinette pecked his cheek.

“I think you might need a new disguise little bird,” she sent him a wink before turning to enter the store, unable to hide her own blush forming.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met the Wayne’s, she was in the wrong place at the right time.

She just wanted to drop off a new Lgeimat recipe that she had definitely not been trying to perfect ever since Damian mentioned his middle eastern heritage. So, you could imagine her surprise when she found Poison Ivy standing on the mansion’s doorstep.

Setting the plate on top of the call box, Marinette wasted no time transforming. Slinging her yo-yo, she pulled Ivy off her feet, landing on top of the woman as the door swung open.

“My lord, what do we have here?”

Alfred stepped backward, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. Marinette wanted to shove her yo-yo into Ivy’s mouth to end the string of curses falling out. Honestly, it was enough to turn the tips of Marinette’s ears pink.

“Master Bruce, your visitor has arrived and with a friend,” Alfred called behind him, stepping out of the door frame only to allow Bruce to fill it instead.

“Mr. Wayne, I was patrolling and a young woman came running up frightened for your safety. She said she was on her way to surprise you when she caught sight of this rogue on your doorstep.”

Bruce looked slightly amused. Marinette wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried at that fact.

“What may I call you Miss?”

“Uh, Ladybug.”

“Miss Ladybug, Dr. Isley here was my guest tonight, not an enemy, but I can understand the confusion. We had a new arboretum to talk about. Would you please release her?”

Marinette was sure her face matched her suit. She quickly withdrew her yo-yo, offering her hand for Ivy to stand. The woman ignored her, still cursing under her breath as Alfred led her inside leaving Bruce to stand with her on the porch.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne. The young woman sounded frantic, I was only trying to help.”

Bruce waved off her apology, even going as far as inviting her inside. She politely declined, trying to escape before she could embarrass herself even further. But it was futile. They finally settled on a picture with his sons who all were apparently big fans from her Paris days.

Marinette tried to feign ignorance to who the boys were, but it was so hard as they fawned over her outfit, asking her a million and one questions about Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. Even Damian seemed impressed by her standing in front of him.

“Oh my, I almost forgot.” Marinette took off in a jog to the front gate. “The young woman asked if I could deliver these to the youngest Wayne and I’m assuming that’s you.” She returned, handing off the plate to Damian whose eyes instantly softened.

“Lgeimat” it was barely a whisper, but Marinette felt her heart flip at how fond his voice sounded over the fritters. “If you see her before I do, please thank her.”

Marinette nodded, too scared of her own voice to answer. Bruce motioned for them to gather together as he pulled out his phone, snapping several photos at once. When she left, Marinette was jealous that she could never ask for a copy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met Batman she had accidentally landed in the middle of their meeting on top of Wayne Tower.

As soon as her feet hit the rooftop, all voices silenced, five sets of eyes landing on her position.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this rooftop was taken, I’ll be on my way.”

She quickly unwound her yo-yo, ready to take off when a hand grasped her wrist, forcing her to stand down.

“Please, Ladybug, we actually have a few questions for you.”

It was Dick, no, Nightwing. She was sure without even having to look him in the eyes. No one else ever used such a soft gentle tone with her. Securing her yo-yo back in its rightful place, she nodded, walking over to where the rest of the group stood.

“Nice to finally meet you Ladybug, how long have you been in my city?”

The only thing holding her back from her theory that the Wayne brothers were the bat boys was the idea that this crude man in front of her was really Bruce Wayne. She had heard of split personality, but he took it to a whole new level.

“Quite a few months now. I try not to go out much considering this is your city to protect, but I had to out myself the other day to save a civilian. Turns out he didn’t need my help, but I figured it was in the open now that Paris’ hero was in Gotham City. Surprise?”

Red Hood looked like it was paining him to try and not laugh as she and Batman continued their staredown.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve started to grow fond of some people here, makes me want to settle down.”

She heard the hitch in Robin’s breath making her smirk stretch even further at the idea that he liked the thought.

“Would you be willing to reveal your identity to me? I don’t like unknowns in my city.”

“Only if you reveal yours first.”

She crossed her arms in mock defiance as Batman’s lips pulled into their own smirk.

“You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“You’re Bruce Wayne.”

There was a moment of silence where neither party said a word. The others seemed to be glued, unsure who was going to move first. With a great sigh, Bruce reached up, pulling back his mask to reveal his face. Marinette smiled as she called off Tikki, revealing herself in the middle of the rooftop.

“I knew it. See, pay up Timmy boy.” Jason threw off his mask before lifting Marinette in the air in a bone-crushing hug.

“I was dumb to bet against it,” Tim pulled off his hood, a smirk monopolizing his face.

Dick didn’t even bother to let her regain her footing before sweeping her into a hug of his own. As he sat Marinette down, she couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escaped her lips as she turned to face Damian. His face was unreadable as he pulled back his hood. Slowly he reached forward, his hand tentatively touching her cheek as if to ensure that she was real.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for the dessert. Nobody has really gone that far for me before and I, uh, appreciated it.”

He took a step forward, his whole hand cupping her cheek sending the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Just as she thought something could happen, an arm around her shoulder pulled her swiftly out of Damian’s reach.

“Okay lovebirds, not in front of his dad! Princess, you can’t steal this boy’s first kiss in front of his daddy.”

The first time Marinette cried in Gotham City was that night. Her laughter turned into tears of joy as she watched Damian and Jason nearly kill each other while Dick and Tim placed bets. It would be the first time she felt this kind of joy, but far from the last.

After all, surrounded by Gotham’s biggest idiots, her friends, there were sure to be many more firsts.

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#daminette #maribat #miraculous ladybug

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

The Tomboy-Shelby Family x Shelby!Sister!Reader

(GIF credit to @mutlulugumhayallerim)

Masterlist

Prompt List

Tags: @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi!! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is a major tomboy and the youngest Shelby and people start to bully her because she never acts like a girl and she comes home crying and everyone comforts her and next time she goes out the boys stand up for her? Thank you!!!’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), John Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Finn Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Ada Shelby x Shelby!Sister!Reader (siblings), Polly Gray x Shelby!Sister!Reader (aunt)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, homophobia, bullying, crying, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Woman tutted as she watched past, instantly whispering to each other once she was out of earshot. Men would take a double glance, frowning at the woman’s attire, shaking their heads as they thought about what kind of body was hidden beneath those clothes. (Y/N) never took any notice, knowing that she stood out from the other girls.

Besides being a Shelby, she was known for not wearing the usual attire a woman of their time would wear. Although she was mostly spotted in suits (falling in love with them after her aunt Pol had showed up in one), (Y/N) surprised those around her by slipping on a dress sometimes, but that was an extremely rare occasion. (Y/N) liked covering up, she wasn’t ashamed of her body, it was just that this was comfier; and leering men wouldn’t ogle at her, she wouldn’t give them the chance. And round Small Heath, there were plenty of people like that.

“That’s a new one (Y/N).” Ada noticed (Y/N) in a new suit as she spotted her across the street.

(Y/N) looked up and down the road before crossing, smiling at her sister and nephew.“Indeed it is. Got a bonus on a job Tommy gave me, thought I would treat myself. Alright Karl?"

The young boy nodded, about to say something when his mother interrupted him.

“A job?!” Ada exclaimed.“Why did Tommy send you?”

“Because I’m perfectly capable. Finn’s starting to take on more jobs, and he’s only a year older than me.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes.“You’re too cocky for your own good. Speaking of the other baby in the family, have you sorted out Finn's birthday present?"

(Y/N) ignored her sister's comment."I have actually! So you are going to be there tomorrow night, at the Garrison?"

"Yes, why do you sound surprised?"

(Y/N) shrugged."Just heard you and Tommy arguing the other day."

"Oh, that was Tommy being an idiot."

"So nothing out of the ordinary?"

Ada laughed."Nope."

"I'm not allowed to go." Karl huffed.

"What?" (Y/N) acted surprised."Why not? It won't be a party if you're not there?"

Ada sighed."Don't encourage him."

"And with that being said, I need to head off. See you tomorrow night Ada, bye Karl!"

She winked at them as she walked away, cheekily smiling to herself when she saw her sister's disgruntled face. She was glad that she wasn't a parent yet, it looked far too stressful.

The day of her brother's birthday had arrived. (Y/N) still lived with her aunt, but left the house early that morning to visit Finn in his new flat. It wasn't the most glamorous place, you would be surprised to find out a Shelby was living in such a place; nevertheless, he was still lucky to have a place of his own. With his presents in her arms, she passed women coming back from a night of working the corner, a few homeless man, and those leaving for work, but she kept a smile on her face. Finn wasn't expecting her, and she knew she was way too excited for his birthday.

Walking down the hall, she was almost at his door when she heard the woman she just passed by mumble something. (Y/N) would have ignored it if the woman didn't continue staring at her.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) boldly said. She was never afraid to call out someone.

This woman was older, she must have been around Polly's age. She looked away, sighing before speaking."I just don't understand you people."

"'You people'?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You women, if I should even call you that...women that enjoy the company of other women."

"Are you calling me a homosexual?"

"It's pretty obvious isn't it?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Look, I was minding my own business-"

"But you weren't, were you? You decided to make a comment about me under your breath instead of keeping it in your little head."

She scoffed."Oh, there's that attitude, not surprising whatsoever."

"Fuck off you old bat." (Y/N) knocked on Finn's door, praying that he would answer soon.

"Hope you're not seeing some young man, wouldn't want to disappoint him."

"Didn't I already tell you to fuck off?"

Just as she finished her sentence, Finn opened the door, looking confused as to why his sister was there and what was going on. He leaned against the door frame as the woman walked away, glancing down to see (Y/N)'s scowling face.

"Bringing trouble into my neighbourhood?" Finn mumbled, rubbing his eyes from tiredness.

"No, your neighbours are just twats. Anyway, happy birthday!" she exclaimed the last part of her sentence, shoving the presents into his hands.

He stumbled back into his flat, managing to shut the door after (Y/N) let herself in.“Uh, thanks. What are you doing here?”

“Coming to wish my brother a happy birthday?” she sarcastically replied, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with a bottle of whiskey.“And to make sure he starts the day off right!”

“You’ve definitely started to pick up on Tommy’s bad habits.”

Although she was having a good time with Finn, (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about the comments made about her. Of course it wasn’t the first time, but she noticed more and more people openly staring or saying something. It was confusing to her as people new who she was, they knew what family she was apart of; she could get them beaten up or even killed. So where had the confidence come from? And why were they even saying anything in the first place? However she wasn’t going to let that show, and she certainly wouldn’t let it effect Finn’s birthday, especially since they were enjoying drinking at such an early hour.

Finn had a suspicion that they would end up in the Garrison that evening, even if there wasn’t an actual party being thrown. He let his sister take him out to a nice restaurant, buy him more presents (though he didn’t mind that when they turned up at the suit shop she frequently visited, they knew how to tailor), and he pretended he didn’t notice there was an edge to her that day. He had seen how easily she flipped her emotions off, though he had also seen the anger and hurt as he opened the door. (Y/N) was a tough Shelby, she would feel belittled if he tried to help her, despite his brotherly instinct desperate to take over.

(Y/N) was awful at acting casual as they approached the Garrison. Finn bluntly told her that he knew people would be waiting for him inside, she profusely denied that, her mouth hurting from trying to suppress a grin. Theatrically opening the doors (that was due to how drunk she already was), Finn flinched as everyone inside cheered, screaming ‘happy birthday’. It was mostly drunk punters who were probably promised free drinks if they acted like they cared, but that didn’t matter to Finn. His brothers, sisters, in-laws, aunt and friends were there. He was handed a glass of whiskey from John, a hard slap on the back following.

“See?” (Y/N) slurred from beside him.“I told you there was a surprise!”

“(Y/N), you told me there wasn’t a surprise.” he reminded her, feeling lighter but he wasn’t at the same level as (Y/N).

She pouted as she thought.“Oh. Well, cheers!”

(Y/N) concentrated on Finn, gripping onto her glass and keeping her focus on the story he was telling, not the group of people clearly talking about her. There were men and women squeezing into a booth, not so subtly pointing, glaring and chatting away about how she looked and acted. (Y/N) was leaning against the bar just as any other man would, hand in a trouser pocket with the other holding her beer. Apparently it was most entertaining to gossip about her.

“Excuse me?” one of the girls had approached her when she was alone.

(Y/N) sighed, looking down into her drink.“Yes?”

“We were just wondering why you dress like that?”

(Y/N) frowned, a tiny part of her hoping they were being serious.“What?”

“We just don’t know how you could wear something like that? Have you not seen some of the beautiful dresses out there? Seriously, a suit does nothing for your figure.”

(Y/N) scoffed, slamming her drink down on the bar.“And what if I don’t want to show my figure?”

“You should.”

“Why?”

“It might be the only thing going for you if you don’t change how you hold yourself.”

“I suggest you go sit back down.” (Y/N) sneered as she began to turn away when some men started hollering.

“Don’t bother the gentleman!”

“The lad is just trying to enjoy a drink!”

“Sorry mate, women am I right?”

They all found themselves hilarious, erupting into laughter as the girls returned. People around them would glance back and forth, waiting for the show to start; what would the Shelby’s do about this? Instead, (Y/N) couldn’t find the strength to stay there and ignore it, storming out of the pub and down the street. Her breath was shaky as she sobbed, unable to hold it in. Her hands fumbled with the keys to the house, slamming the door shut and heading to where the alcohol was kept. She groaned when she didn’t find whiskey, settling for gin and collapsing into the arm chair. As if it were water, (Y/N) drank away, cheeks soaked with tears, wiping her nose with the back of her jacket sleeve, ugly noises escaping her as she let it all out. It was only now that she felt how much emotion she had been building up and holding in; now that she was crying, it was all too overwhelming.

“(Y/N)?” Polly called out as the front door opened.

Polly quickly headed towards the sounds of crying, sympathetically sighing when she saw her niece in such a state. Taking away the gin, she knelt down to eye level with the girl, lifting her face by the chin to make sure she was listening. Tommy and John followed, standing back as they let Polly take the lead.

“What happened?” she demanded to know, though her tone was soft.

“I just don’t understand.” (Y/N) loudly whined.“Why are people so hateful? They don’t have to fucking say anything!”

Alright, alright,“ Polly calmed her,“they disrespected you?”

“Yes! They even came up to me and made a scene, and there was some old bitch from this morning. Why do people hate the way I dress?! How does it effect them?! IT’S NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS!” she screamed the last part.

“(Y/N),” Tommy said,“what other people think, it doesn’t fucking matter. But if it upsets you this much, you need to tell us.”

“Yeah, we need to give them a reminder about who their talking to.” John smirked.

“You don’t hate the way I dress, do you?” (Y/N) asked much more quietly.

“Of course not. You’re our (Y/N).” Polly reassured her.“You’re (Y/N) Shelby, you do whatever the fuck you want. You’re royalty here.”

“(Y/N), we’re going to walk back in there like nothing happened, because it didn’t. It was just a bunch of drunk twats running their mouths.” Tommy said.

John chuckled.“And you know what we’ll do if they start anything else.”

(Y/N) felt nervous as they headed back to the Garrison. Her brothers and aunt walked in before her, and she heard the atmosphere die down as people realised they had returned. (Y/N) expected the noise level to rise once they got their drinks, until she saw Arthur standing up on a chair.

“Oi! All of you listen up!” he shouted, everyone going silent and looking at him.“This ‘ere,” he pointed to (Y/N),“is my baby sister. I fucking love her! And if any of you disrespect her in any way, you will be banned from this pub! Not only that, but you will be hunted down by the Peaky Blinders, and you don’t want to know what we do to people who go against our family!”

(Y/N) smiled at her eldest brother, knowing that he was drunk too, but Arthur still meant every word. Once the tension left, the music and chatter became loud again. He clumsily got down, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“How was that?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” (Y/N) giggled.

“It was all true, we all love you. Don’t give a fuck what you wear.”

“Thank you, I’ve got the best family ever.”

“Too fuckin’ right.”

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hxlyhead-harpies · 3 years

Text

Tendency to Lead Some People On (S.B.)

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Allusions to sex and abuse

Title from: Dive by Ed Sheeran

The thing about falling in love was that it was never quite like how people described it. The act was nothing like the plays or the books said, and it was certainly nothing like the songs. It didn’t feel like flying or a freefall, it felt like jumping off the highest spire of the castle. There was nothing freeing about it either; your heart was suddenly caged in your ribs, longing to beat for someone who could never know. There was nothing beautiful or sweet about the act of falling in love with the one person you couldn’t have.

Sirius black walked around the castle with a feigned arrogance only a few could see through. Every step of his was reckless and unplanned, a storm raging through the stone corridors. His childhood had left him hurt and broken, but also wild and untempered. In an effort to disguise the fact that he always felt too much or too little, he became cavalier and at times, pompous.

Those who had the privilege of knowing Sirius Black through more than shouts in the hallways and pranks in the Great Hall knew that there was more to him.

He was incredibly insecure, needing constant reassurance that he was enough. He lived each moment of his life, waiting for someone to leave him. He flinched when voices were raised and when someone moved too suddenly and he woke up from nightmares drenched in sweat. He was incredibly loyal, almost to a fault, and had tender eyes that could read his friends perfectly.

You had the pleasure of knowing the complexities of Sirius Black, having met your first year on the train. You were privy to his deepest thoughts and feelings and stroked your hands through his long locks when he got letters from home. With his head in your lap and his hand clutching your thigh as if you might disappear if he let go, he would whisper to you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His whispers always sent a warm feeling through your chest. The act of feeling needed always made you feel light and fuzzy and made your cheeks flush. But your body would become cold again soon.

“You’re my best friend,” he’d murmur soon after. He didn’t need you the way you needed him and he didn’t love you the way that you loved him. But you’d still sit with him until he fell asleep.

Sirius walked through the halls every day with a new bird or beau on his arm. He loved the attention, something he lacked severely growing up, and letting go of his inhibitions. For Sirius, hookups were fun, feelingless, and a way to forget who he was for a while. It may have been an unhealthy coping mechanism, but that didn’t stop him from coming back to his dorm in the middle of the night after crawling out of another stranger’s room.

Every hand wrapped around his bicep felt like a punch to your gut and every flirty smile he sent to others made your head hurt. His romantic advances were never aimed at you. For you, he reserved brotherly shoulder pats and mussing up your hair.

You were sitting by the black lake, Sirius once again in your arms. He was crying, his tears darkening your jumper. He clutched the fabric between his fingers as his body wracked with sobs. You silently rubbed his back and waited for the crying to subside so that you could talk. He always needed a good cry before he could divulge his reasons for such despair.

Eventually, his body stilled and he let out a sniffle. His hold on your sweater loosened and he moved into a sitting position. He faced you but still looked down, fiddling with the grass at his knees. You grabbed his hand.

“Sirius,” you whispered, “are you ready to talk?” He sighed.

“I’m off the tapestry,” he said quietly. You blinked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“They burned me off of the family tapestry. I’m no longer a Black,” he explained, his voice wavering.

“Oh, Sirius,” you breathed.

“It’s fine. I didn’t want to be part of that bigoted lot anyways,” he muttered darkly, pulling his hand from yours.

“Hey,” you said, making another grab for his hand. “You’re allowed to be sad. As terrible as they are, they still raised you. It can’t be easy letting go of that. Personally, I’m glad you’re not a Black anymore; it’ll be harder for them to hurt you now. But I understand if you feel at least a little bit sad.” He allowed you to hold his hand as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“They said that I’m a disgrace. That I’m nobody,” he said, his voice breaking. You sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his fingers.

“That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you said. He looked up at you with his doleful puppy eyes, tears brimming at the edges. Your heart practically shattered at the sight.

“You’re brave and you’re kind. You’re fighting on the right side of the war and you’re a better person than your parents could ever be. They think you’re a disgrace because you didn’t conform to their narrow-minded plan for you. That’s why you’re in Gryffindor, Sirius. So you can be better than who they wanted you to be. So you can be who you want to be,” you said firmly, trying to make him believe you.

Sirius gave you an indecipherable look. “I’m not as good as you think I am,” he muttered.

“Yes you are!” you pleaded, “I wish you could see how amazing you are.” You tentatively reached up to touch his face and wiped his tears. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch. It was more intimate than any other touch between the two of you had ever been before.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered under your breath, hoping that somehow you’d get through to him. He reached up to his face and placed his hand over yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. You smiled but internally braced yourself for the words that always broke your heart. But instead, Sirius mumbled a quiet “I love you”.

You jerked your hand away, your eyes widening in shock. You stared at him, searching his face for any sign that it was a cruel joke. With your heart pounding against your rib you scooted away, your hand coming to cover your mouth. Sirius raked a hand through his hair and groaned.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that! We can pretend this never happened, I swear,” he said. He moved his arm as is to reach for your hand but stopped himself. You remained silent and unmoving.

“Yell, scream, cry, please, just say something, anything,” he begged. You moved your mouth to speak but no words came out. You thought back to every person you caught him kissing in empty classrooms. If he loved you as he said, why had he chased so many others? Just this morning he had snogged a girl behind a pillar. How was what he said possibly true?

“Why are you lying to me?” you whispered finally. He closed his eyes tightly.

“I’m not lying to you, I promise,” he sighed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“How do I know I’m not just another one of your conquests?” you asked harshly. He shook his head wildly.

“You’re not! You’re so much more than that for me. You always have been,” he replied. You shook your head and looked away.

“I have watched you chase after every person in Hogwarts except for me. I have watched you kiss girls you barely know and flirt with any boy who indicates that he might be into you. For years I have sat by and watched you flirt your way through the entire school. How the hell am I supposed to know that I’m any different?” Sirius’s face crumpled at your words.

“I didn’t know how to tell you! I always thought that you’d hate me and leave! I never imagined that you’d feel the same. Everyone else was just distractions! Distractions from you!” he was practically yelling now, begging you to believe him. You looked down at your hands.

“You really hurt me, Sirius,” you said, “But you want to know the worst part? Even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.” Sirius let out a breath, a smile slowly filling his face.

“You love me?” he asked, as always, needing reassurance. You met his grey eyes.

“How could I not?” you replied. Sirius tackled you in a hug, pressing you close against him. One of his hands was against your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head.

You could feel his heart beating against his ribcage in the same fashion as yours, your hearts finally only beating for each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@durmstrange @theweasleysredhair @spn-marvel-nerd @gloryekaterina @bellaacunaa @mytreec @levylovegood @inglourious-imagines @whatwoulddracodo @pattinsons-films @birdie-writes @gcdric

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #young!sirius black #marauders era #marauders fic #young marauders #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst

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lambourngb · 3 years

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For the first line meme: It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupts another night of staring at the computer screen.

the heart is a muscle - post season 2, mentions of forlex , getting back together malex fic for you dear @jule1122, and @haloud, and @christchex.

It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupted another night of staring at the computer screen.

Mr. Jones and his last words to Michael, before he was forced back into stasis, still haunted him. “You really think there was just one ship? We were in formation, kid. What you should ask yourself is, where did everyone else go? Did they just keep zippin’ on their way to the colony? Or did they stop and take a gander at this planet and what they did to the survivors?”

The tiny bit of hope that this Max-lookalike psychopath didn’t represent the last of his species, had Michael diving back into his research behind the crash of 1947. The online conversations about Roswell had moved on to other topics since Michael had abandoned the message boards in the wake of Caulfield, but with some effort, he had found new threads detailing neighborhood folklore regarding newcomers with eerie talents, like the ability to grow food in droughts. Stories that peppered all over the world. Stories that might mean an alien colonist on Earth.

The thirst for knowledge about his planet and his people would never leave him, even if the actual urge to go had quieted down into just a soft whisper. Life was finally good in Roswell. After the mind games of Mr. Jones, Michael could admit now that he did have a family here, even if they weren’t related by blood. Sanders, Arturo, Mimi, Michelle Valenti had all stepped in at various times to offer a guiding hand to him, or just a quiet nod of reassurance that he was valued. Max and Isobel would always be his siblings, but now he could count Liz, Rosa, Kyle, and even awkwardly in their new friendship, Maria, as extended his family now.

It didn’t escape Michael that not even in his thoughts could he attribute his feelings for Alex as brotherly. There was still a vacant place at the head of Michael’s overflowing table of family for a partner, a spouse. That somehow, the seat even as other people came and went, only seemed to fit Alex.

Except they were still just friends.

Another knock, more impatient this time, rattled the Airstream’s door. Michael sat up, placing his ancient laptop on the counter and rolled off his bed to get to his feet. His life was had changed so much in the last couple of years that he had enough people in it, friends, who dropped by his trailer at all hours of the day, not just Isobel, that he couldn’t even guess the identity of the visitor.

Backlit from the auto yard’s security lights, stood Alex Manes holding a cardboard drink holder from ‘Bean Me Up’.

“Alex,” Michael greeted, a smile already at his lips. He glanced at the coffee and back to Alex, “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow I take it?” This was part of the new normal for Michael, meeting Alex for coffee, three or four mornings a week. It was something that had grown out of a happy coincidence, Alex’s gym was near the Boys and Girls Club that Michael volunteered at, serving breakfast in the mornings and tutoring kids in math in the afternoon.

Same place at the same time, once, then twice, became a standard thing. Not a date. Just, taking advantage of the mutual collision to talk. And at first, it was awkward to share news with each other, like Alex’s dating experiences with Forrest or Michael’s attempts to recover his memories of his planet, but later things had softened into a routine. Order coffee, find a small table, and then spend the next hour playfully fending off Alex’s attempts to foist food on Michael’s side of the table while also stealing sips of his caramel lattes.

Perhaps one day Alex would realize that Michael had only ordered the ridiculously sweet coffee drinks because he knew that was what Alex preferred to drink. It was still a damn toxic hold over from Jesse Manes that Alex still persisted in ordering black coffee with no sugar. Dating Forrest might have helped Alex be open with his sexuality, there were still lessons for Alex to learn in being gentle with himself, Michael observed. The act of indulging in pleasures, instead of engaging in deprivation, it was something he struggled with as well.

In the meantime, Michael could at least help Alex in this small way, letting him ‘steal’ his lattes.

“Alex?” Something about Michael had robbed Alex of all speech as he just stared up at Michael in response, still holding the drinks dumbly in his hands. “Are you okay? What’s wrong-”

The switch from teasing to urgent concern finally snapped Alex out of his apparent stupor. “Right, nothing, um, just- since when do you wear glasses?”

Michael’s hand went to his face automatically, realizing belatedly that he was still wearing his reading glasses. He started to pull them off, blushing in embarrassment, when Alex blurted out, “They look good! On you. The glasses. Um great even.”

“Oh.” Now that. Michael did not know what to do with that.

In the yellow-wash of light, Alex was clearly the same man from yesterday’s coffee visit physically. His soft mouth was there, but it came with his standard closed expression that he must have picked up abroad, wearing it now as Michael’s least favorite souvenir. His posture was the same too, forever changed from losing his leg, straight-backed and rigid but just then, he was someone Michael hadn’t seen in a long time. That awkward stuttering response was Alex Manes, the seventeen-year-old boy who had whipped off his visor nervously in the museum, the same boy who touched with soft gliding palms newly revealed skin before snatching his hands away at the first sign that it was unwelcome.

Aware that it was his turn to stare at Alex, Michael forced himself to smile naturally, “I guess not even my alien physiology can beat back the glare of a computer screen. I forgot I had them on.”

“Did I interrupt something? I can go if you want,” Alex stopped, probably hearing the past echo between them but not in the benign way of before. “Or I can stay and help, even if it’s with surprise coffee?” This time he lifted the tray up between them, an offer or a barricade of politeness, Michael wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking for other survivors,” Michael admitted, before looking down to avoid Alex’s sharpened gaze of interest. “On the internet, obviously, since I don’t think I can trust that I could sense them with my mind.”

It was clear that Alex hadn’t forgotten any of the various tactics Jones had employed against them, but Michael in particular. A frequent repeated taunt was about how damaged their psychic abilities were for adults, to the point no one had sensed Caulfield, but that from his pod prison Jones could hear Nora calling for help nightly right until the end. The twisted knife of how Michael had grown up waiting for someone to save him. Alex pursed his lips to object, “Michael-”

“Jones was full of shit about a lot,” Michael assured him quickly, “but I think he was right about the ships, that it wasn’t just one that crashed. I’m just combing through stories, basically internet mythology, looking for clues about strangers who might have some sort of power. It’s a lot of ‘world’s biggest cucumber’ stories right now, but hey, come in, you’re the computer genius and I could use your help and your coffee.” He placed his hands on the coffee holder, carrying it for Alex and backed away from the steps to let Alex have as much room as possible to navigate the cumbersome metal steps into the Airstream.

The seating area of the Airstream had been folded away and stored in order to make room for the drying rack of his clothes from laundry day, leaving only his narrow bed for seating. Michael had half-a-minute’s pause in reconsideration. They could relocate outside to his fire pit with the cheap camp chairs, and sit pressed together elbow-to-elbow around the dim screen of the laptop between them. Or. Or they could squeeze together on his bed, a place where that sort of contact between them had always led to sex. What was the safer option for their friendship?

His heart always strayed too far from the safety of his bones when it came to Alex.

Ignoring his pounding pulse, he grabbed the coffee cup marked “Alex” and pulled it to his lips to drink and made a gesture to the bed. At least he had made the bed up earlier with clean linens, the spread was neatly tucked into the corners, almost military sharp. That made it feel slightly less risqué to him than inviting Alex into warm mussed sheets that reeked of Michael’s skin. That rain and bourbon scent that Alex had pointed out.

“Um, your coffee was the other one.” Alex picked up the abandoned cup marked with a ‘M’ and followed him over to the bed.

“No, I’m drinking the coffee I always end up with. Your black tar juice.”

Alex smiled slightly, caught out by the observation before gingerly sitting next to Michael as Michael scooted over toward the wall of the Airstream. “Yeah, I guess I do end up stealing yours.” He brought his left leg up easily on the mattress and then passed his coffee cup over to Michael’s waiting hands as he brought his prosthetic up with both hands for balance. The smile faded, as Alex reclaimed the ‘M’ cup to sip from deep in thought as he seemed to review the history of their morning encounters. “I’m sorry-”

“Alex, come on,” he teased leaning his shoulder against Alex’s. “You haven’t caught on by now? I only order that sugar monstrosity because I know you won’t let yourself do it. I don’t even like caramel that much.”

“What? Come on, that’s what you ordered that first time-”

“I ordered that for the director at the community center.” Michael placed his coffee on the window of the Airstream and concentrated on bringing the laptop back up to rest on his knees between them not daring to look at Alex. He would never be able to confess the next bit and see Alex’s too-expressive gaze at the same time. But. As he had reminded himself earlier, he needed to work on indulging in pleasures as well, not just holding on to the pylon weight of depriving himself, of never believing he was worthy of good things. And being Alex’s friend was that. A pleasure. A good thing. The best thing.

“Once I saw you though, I kinda forgot the errand I was on in the first place. Then, I might have gone back at the same time the next day. And the day after that. For reasons.” He glanced to the side, meeting Alex’s wide eyes briefly before turning back to the laptop. “So I guess it's my turn to apologize? I might have had an agenda.”

It was quiet between them, as Michael clicked through a few different forums. He wasn’t paying any attention to where his cursor landed, he just kept scrolling through window after window as a distraction because the urge to pull back, to crack a joke, to do anything but let Alex process in silence was hard to suppress but needed. That was a part of becoming friends, learning that Alex needed extra time to formulate a response, something that came from needing to shut all emotional responses off during a drone operation at work.

“Me too,” Alex replied softly. “About the agenda. I mean, I don’t even have a membership at that gym.”

Michael frowned, the words not making any sense to him.

“That first time was dumb luck, I mean, I stopped in that morning because I had stayed the night at Forrest’s for the first time and I found out he doesn’t drink coffee. Doesn’t even own a coffee maker.” Alex scoffed quietly, before leaning against Michael affectionately, “I should have known that it was doomed from the start, just on coffee alone but what really put the nail in the coffin was the fact I pretended to go to that gym for two months because I had a bag of clothes with me when you saw me.”

“That was your clothes from staying over with him,” Michael said slowly, almost to himself, before he frowned even deeper as the connections fell into place. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or not, but this was a new level of avoidance of an awkward subject for Alex. It did make sense considering the timing, and maybe that was why he was confessing now to Michael because not that Michael allowed himself to show it, the early days of Alex’s relationship with the historian were difficult for him. He didn’t begrudge Alex being happy or being with someone else, but there was still an old, gnarled bit of Michael’s heart that pinched painfully at seeing the romance play out for everyone in Roswell to see. “Alex, I know you guys are dating, you didn’t have to lie about that and pretend you had gone to that gym.”

“Were dating,” Alex patiently corrected. “Pay attention, Michael. I just said it was doomed from the start.”

“Because he didn’t drink coffee?”

“Because I was engaging in a deep cover operation that involved a fake gym membership, rescheduling my appointments to the afternoon and blocking out time in my mornings all, so I could see you.” The gears were still turning too slowly for Alex’s liking as he rolled his eyes at Michael and continued, “I ended it with Forrest about a month ago. Or well, he ended it with me because I was always too busy in the morning for breakfast and I never wanted to stay over at his.”

Michael blinked, then looked down at his laptop. The ancient fan and processor were making a soft whine of effort, much like his own brain at the moment. Alex was single. Alex has been single for over a month. A month where he didn’t mention it once during their get-togethers.

Alex exhaled slowly, draining the latte before placing the cup out of range. “I’m really trying to use my words here, but you have exactly one minute to understand what I’m saying before I have to get creative-”

“Are you saying that you-”

“Yes-”

“Still want me?”

“I never stopped,” Alex reached for Michael’s hand, stilling the rapid clicking. “I came here because I wanted to be honest with you. It occurred to me that somewhere along the line, those meetups for coffee had basically become the most important part of my day. I … I was turning them into dates in my head. With you.” He licked his lips, his eyes drifting down to Michael’s mouth, causing Michael to bite his own lip in response. The anticipation between them thickened, until Alex groaned softly, his head briefly ducking toward Michael’s. “In the past, I’ve been guilty of thinking we were on the same page, and we weren’t, so I’m- Michael, I will still be your friend no matter what, but I want-”

This time, Michael didn’t let him finish and closed the scant distance between them on the bed to kiss Alex. The laptop fell to the side of their legs as Alex surged into it, pushing Michael down flat on the mattress in his eagerness. Michael opened for Alex, letting him have whatever he wanted and buried his fingers in the soft, black hair as they traded kisses.

Suddenly, a bubble of laughter burst from Michael’s chest, the lightness of the situation that felt almost too good to be real spread through his veins. “Oh my god, you brought me coffee to tell me that getting coffee together wasn’t just getting coffee for you, Alex-”

“Shut up!”

“You need a new job, nothing in intel, sweetheart-”

“I am, I did, that is.” Alex lifted his eyebrow at Michael’s too-still pause before he sweetly brushed the long stubborn curl out of Michael’s face, “Done with the Air Force as of next month.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that too.”

#malex fic #getting back together #this was supposed to be 5 sentences #malex #roswell new mexico #mention of forlex #malex is endgame #jule1122

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flannels-and-fannypacks · 3 years

Text

Will They Won’t They | Part 2/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears & ANGST

A/N: hey babes it’s drea posting :) i hope you enjoy this part as much as mimi and i did writing it! again, if you enjoy our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! and if you want to be updated, dm us to join our taglist! sending my love - drea :)

“Come on, let me take you out! We need to get you a new outfit for the gig coming up,” Rose insisted, dragging you to her car.

“Who said I was coming?” you frowned stubbornly, tugging your arms back but to no avail.

“I did, now let's go,” she strongly urged, pushing you into the backseat while she hopped in the passenger side and Luke hopped in the driver’s seat.

“Rose, he’s coming too! Oh, hell no!” you refused, giving the boy a pointed look.

“Sorry (N/N), I can’t drive this car, it doesn’t have learner’s insurance,” Rose apologized.

“Nice to see you Lady Bunny,” Luke grinned with a wink and you sighed.

“Okay, let’s just get this over with, okay?” you prompted and Luke nodded turning the keys in the ignition.

“Whatever you say bunny, you’re the boss.”

“Would you stop calling me that Patterson, it’s worse than when Reggie calls me Cookie,” you grumbled, your nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Oh lighten up, at least you’ve got some cute nicknames,” Rose chuckled and reached a hand back to hold yours. “We’re gonna have a blast (N/N), just trust me.”

Walking past countless amounts of stores, it seemed as though Rose’s plan to find you something nice to wear was pointless. You and Rose had very different ideas of fashion, ideas that clashed far too much for Rose’s liking.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that!” you exclaimed, eyeing the brightly colored jacket in Rose’s hand.

“It’s so pretty though!” she insisted. “The texture, the color, the price? It’s a bargain, (N/N)!”

You rolled your eyes. “Then you buy it for yourself,” you told her, pulling out a simple knit sweater from the rack.

“You know what, I will,” Rose settled before looking at the sweater in your hand. “Oh you can’t wear that! You’ll look like a grandma who got lost at a rock concert!”

You frowned at your friend, holding the sweater to your chest. “I always wear things like this,” you pointed out, slightly hurt.

Rose tugged the sweater out of your hand and shoved it back into the rack. Luke popped his head up from the other side of the rack. “Yeah, but at a rock gig, you can’t go as your typical self. A poor little bunny like you would never survive a place like that,” he explained with a pout.

“Lord, have mercy,” you grabbed your necklace pendant and kissed it, frowning when you realized you weren’t wearing your normal silver cross.

“Is that like some white person good luck thing you picked up?” she asked suspiciously and you chuckled.

“No, I just thought I was wearing a different necklace. I don't know how I could have mistaken it.”

“What is it?” Rose inquired further, taking the pendant from your hands and looking at the details. “A horseshoe? I didn’t take you for a horse girl.”

“Yeah- no, I’m not… Reggie gave it to me in middle school, he won it at a county fair or something, I can’t remember,” you explained.

“Reggie gave it to you?” Luke inquired.

“Thought I said that already Patterson,” you shot back with a roll of your eyes.

Luke fought the urge to say something sarcastic back to you. “No, I’m just- Reggie?” he repeated. “I thought he...hates you, and vice versa.”

You walked down the aisle, skimming through the various articles of clothing. “And you’d be correct,” you told him.

“It was before you moved here,” Rose explained. “She and Reggie used to be best friends up until middle school,”

“Yep, but that’s in the past and we’re in the present so let’s focus on that,” you rushed, already feeling uncomfortable about the topic.

“No let's not,” Luke rested his forearms on the rack in front of you, resting his chin on top of them. “Tell us more,” he pleaded, pouting like a child.

You glared at the boy, tossing a sequined shirt at his face, making him stagger back. “And why should I, it’s none of your business, no offense Rose, and I’ll probably tell you at some point anyway,”

“None taken cariña,” she chuckled and continued looking for some clothing that would be appropriate for the gig.

Luke sighed, following close behind you. “But why can’t you tell me now?” he whined like a child. “I adopted you-”

“Against my will,” you cut in, flicking his forehead.

“Details,” he insisted. “I’m just saying, shouldn’t we be close now? Don’t you trust me?”

You took a deep breath. “Of course I do, Luke,” you reassured him, your patience thinning.

“Then why not tell me?” he pressed.

“Because it hurts!” you finally broke.

The two friends seemed to freeze at your sudden exclamation. The quiet small girl was cracking and revealing the broken china doll inside.

“It hurts, okay?” you repeated. “And having to tell the story of how I lost my best friend for some stupid reason that I don’t even know...it hurts beyond belief. The worst part is that he probably doesn’t even care. I loved him, okay? I loved him because he was my best friend. Even when I had no one I had Reggie and I used to think that nothing in the world could ever tear us apart.” you admitted. “When we stopped talking, he took a piece of me with him. And I know that I am never going to get that back.”

Luke quietly moved over and past the racks of clothing pulling you into his chest and giving you a tight squeeze.

“Bunny I’m so sorry. I had no idea,”

You let out a humorless laugh. “No one knew,” you told him. “It’s not your fault, Luke, you were just curious.”

“Still,” Luke said. “I feel so bad. Maybe I could try and talk to him and-”

You shook your head repeatedly. “Maybe let’s not,” you countered. “It’s in the past now. There’s nothing I can really do about it and the last thing I want to do is rope my friends into this, too.”

“Well then how about this,” Rose suggested, giving you a prompt to change the topic while holding up a long sleeved white turtleneck along with an oversized black shirt sporting the album art of a famous rock band.

“I actually think I might be able to tolerate that,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m hoping you have some ripped jeans at home, maybe some converse?”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m not entirely hopeless,” you assured them and Rose laughed while Luke just pulled you in tighter for a brotherly hug.

“Look at you being mature! We love you, bunny,” he told you, swaying as he held you tight in his arms.

“Love you, too, I guess, Patterson,” you laughed. “Let me go, you’re crushing me!”

The second Luke pulled away, he leaned back in to ruffle your hair. “Now come on, Bunny, the gig starts in three hours. You all down for lunch?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you nodded. “Why not?” you replied.

Rose wrapped an arm around the both of you. “Anything but hotdogs,” she giggled.

“Agreed!” you quickly vetoed any other option and ran giggling with Rose to grab lunch leaving Luke to pay for the clothes. You were lucky he adopted you otherwise that would be a tricky one to get out of.

—

“I feel like this is an illegal number of questions to have on a test, it’s literally taking so long to mark these,” you grumbled to yourself, scribbling notes with red ink on the margins of the freshman biology test.

You had lost count of how many detentions had passed and lost track of how many were still to come, at this rate they could go on until the end of the year and in all honesty you probably wouldn’t notice.

You looked over at Reggie who was marking some short answer questions on a test, seeing his bright red check mark where there clearly shouldn’t have been one.

“That’s wrong”, you said, looking back down at your paper.

“What do you mean?”

“That. You marked it right, it’s wrong,”

“Why?” he asked curiously, putting his pen down so he could listen to you.

“Because,” you sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “the mitochondria is not the party house of the cell,”

“Well I say the mitochondria can do whatever it wants,” Reggie proclaimed, adding another check mark to the test. “Because it’s the boss,”

“No that’s the nucleus,”

“The what?” he formed and you banged your head on the desk in front of you,

“How in the world did you pass freshman science,”

“Like the rest of us, I cheated,” he countered and you looked at him with a shocked expression on your face. “Oh my God, lighten up Cookie, I was kidding, it’s been four years and I’ve barely taken any science classes since I just forgot,” he rolled his eyes.

You moved your head back to your work, only to toss the pen down in frustration moments later to try and massage a hand cramp.

“Stupid pen, stupid tests, stupid detention,” you grumbled under your breath, honestly feeling like you wanted to cry.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sat back in your seat, debating whether you should fake an emergency so you could just go home.

Reggie silently reached over to your pile of tests and eyeballed splitting it in half, taking the unmarked tests and placing them in his own pile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said flatly.

“Sooner we finish the sooner we can go home and it didn’t seem like you were going to go any faster,”

You stayed silent for a moment, carefully reaching for your own again before whispering, “Thanks,” to which Reggie only gave you a nod.

The silence between you both was excruciating. It shouldn’t have been this way, it should have been easy to talk to him like it always used to be.

So, you took a deep breath and unclenches your jaw, casually continuing to write while asking,

“So how’s the band?”

There was a short silence, probably due to his slight shock in you even asking or trying to have a civil conversation and his first instinct as usual was to block it.

“Why do you care?”

You rolled your eyes and continued to do your work, at least you tried that was all you could do. The ball was in his court.

When he looked up and saw your tired expression he realized there really didn’t seem to be an ulterior motive at this point so with an audible sigh he answered,

“It’s great, we’re working on writing songs for our demo CD,”

You nodded and checked off some multiple choice questions before you heard Reggie clear his throat and spoke again,

“How about you? How’s the family?”

“They’re alright,” you said, your lips pressed in a thin line. “I mean as good as they can be. Things haven’t changed much.”

Reggie nodded in understanding, aware of your family’s financial situation.

“Is that why you push yourself?” he asked again. You froze, your hand holding the grading pen not moving. “Hours in the library, studying until your brain practically explodes with information.” You raised an eyebrow curiously at him, making him blush sheepishly. “I just know from uh, Mr. Mallard. He likes to talk, you and I both know that.” With a small smile on your face, you nodded.

“I guess you’re right,” you finally answered. “If I get a scholarship maybe I can at least make my way through a degree without plummeting further into debt.” You kicked aimlessly at the floor. “I just feel so guilty. Like...if I don’t do the right thing or make one stupid mistake I’ll disappoint my parents.”

Reggie frowned, setting the testing papers down. “You know you’d never disappoint your parents, Cookie” he told you. Chills went down your spine upon realizing he didn’t have the usual malice and sarcasm behind his name for you. “They would never be upset with you.”

You laugh humorlessly. “Right again, Flicka,” you sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the better term would be I would be disappointed in myself? I don’t want to fail them or anything by slacking off. They’ve already done so much for me.”

“But that shouldn’t stop you from just-” Reggie drummed his pen against his thigh as he thought of the right words to use. “living? Cookie, we’re still kids. The point of high school is to just let loose and have fun, not drown yourself in schoolwork and scholarship essays.”

You playfully flicked a paper clip in his direction. “I bet you’d know all about letting loose, wouldn’t you?” you teased.

Reggie grasped his chest, gasping in feign hurt. “You wound me, Cookie,” he dramatically exclaimed, making you giggle and roll your eyes.

As the two of you continued your light banter, you were reminded of the days you and Reggie would spend at the park, competing to see who could swing the highest between the two of you. The weight on your back lifted slightly as you started to sense a bit of normalcy, no longer at each other’s throats for any reason you could find. It felt good to talk like this with Reggie, to “let loose” as he said and finally set down all the baggage you’ve been carrying since you two stopped being best friends. Everything in that moment felt right. Stress, detention, and ungraded biology tests long forgotten.

After what seemed like hours passed, Mr. Siezlio came back to the classroom, announcing that you were done for the day. You and Reggie surprisingly continued your conversation outside of the classroom, Reggie sharing more stories of the band as you giggled with every shenanigan. However, the moment you stepped foot outside, Reggie’s composure changed.

“Alex!” you exclaimed, running over to the boy. Alex had his arms outstretched, pulling you into a friendly hug that Reggie considered far too chummy. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, watching and making sure his hands were where he could see them.

Reggie walked over to the two, a scowl forming on his face. “Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, bitterness visibly clear in his tone.

The blond drummer raised an eyebrow in confusion at Reggie’s attitude, but decided not to address it. “(Y/N) and I have an AP chemistry project coming up so she’s going to sleep over at my place so we can work on it.”

You grinned up at Alex. “We’re probably going to have to pull an all-nighter to get it all done tonight,” you told him, making him groan.

Reggie’s lips fell to a thin line. “Good luck trying to do that,” he muttered. “Alex falls asleep before eleven o’clock. I’d pay to see him stay up past that.”

Alex rolled his eyes playfully. “When my grade is on the line, I think I can manage,” he said. “Especially after that one experiment in class you left me to do, I think we both definitely need that A.”

“Yeah, Alex can’t do titrations for shit,”

“I tried my best,” Alex fought back.

“And what did that get us?” you pressed.

Alex’s head hung low. “Erm, a B,” he muttered.

Reggie stared at the two in disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend this ‘nerd talk.’ “A B?!” he exclaimed. “You were disappointed with a B? I would have been happy with C-,” he shook his head and pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder, preparing himself to part ways.

You shuddered at the thought of such a low grade. “I’d never even begin to imagine a C,” you said aloud.

Reggie smirked at you. “Well, you are a nerd, Cookie,” he teased, making you shove him.

“Ass,” you shot back.

“(N/N), we gotta go if we don’t wanna stay up all night,” Alex said anxiously.

You nodded, taking Alex’s hand in yours and squeezing it. Reggie glared down at your intertwined hands, anger bubbling rapidly in his chest.

“Bye, Flicka,” you cheerfully waved goodbye.

Reggie didn’t look you in the eye, only staring down at the sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pocket. “Whatever, Cookie.”

—

Band practice the next afternoon -to say the least- was probably the shittiest the band had ever played. Luke and Bobby were incredibly confused why Alex continuously dropped his drumsticks and refused to make eye contact with anyone and why Reggie looked so angry that he could snap the strings of his bass.

“Okay, guys, guys! Come on we have a gig in like a week! We can’t go out there playing like this!” Luke insisted and Bobby nodded in agreement. “Alex I haven’t seen you fumble this much since we tried to play football and Reggie you currently have negative three hundred and forty-five dollars and seventy-three cents in your bank account so I would recommend loosening up on the strings because none of us can afford more.”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on with you two?” Bobby added and Reggie sent a cold glare towards Alex that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

“What was that?” Luke asked, pointing in between the two boys.

“What was what?” Reggie asked, his head snapping back to send the same glare to Luke.

“Okay you two clearly have things you need to settle so get it out there,” Bobby nodded, motioning to the floor, metaphorically saying it was open for one of them to take.

Alex took a deep breath and nervously started, “Well I think it’s pretty clear Reggie is mad at me it’s just I have no idea as to why,” he shrugged his shoulders. “D-Did I eat your sandwich or something? A meatball sub maybe?”

“That’s not it, but did you? Because if you did you are dead to me,” Reggie said venomously.

“No! No, I didn’t,” he insisted quickly, very much so wanting to stay alive and not murdered at the hands of his best friend. “But what the hell is making you mad Reggie, I’ve never seen you like this,”

Luke and Bobby seemed to nod carefully in agreement and Reggie swung his bass around the strap so it was hanging from his back.

“You need to stay away from (Y/N),” Reggie said in a cautionary tone, pointing directly at Alex.

“Lady bunny?” Luke asked curiously with furrowed brows and Reggie just looked at him back with confusion before remembering the nickname.

“Yeah, I guess, but seriously Alex, you shouldn’t be with her,”

“What do you mean I shouldn’t be with her. (Y/N) and I are just friends! We’ve been lab partners since freshman year,” Alex insisted. “And in case you forgot I’m kind of really gay?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be spending time with her!” Reggie exclaimed furiously. Was he mad that you were spending time with his friends or that you seemed to be getting just as close with them as he once was with you. Right now, that was all a muddled mess in Reggie’s mind and heart so naturally, he started spewing out words that probably didn’t even have meaning at that point.

Bobby discreetly made his way to Luke. “Hey Luke,” he whispered. “I can go ask Rose to make some popcorn,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah, for sure, and tell her to come in, she’ll wanna see this,” Luke added, equally invested, as their two other bandmates seemed to really be going at it.

“Reggie, you need to calm down. (Y/N)’s my friend, too. I don’t know any of your past, but you can’t tell me I should just drop her completely,” Alex said in a level toned voice.

“Oh don’t act like you know (Y/N) better than I do,” Reggie snapped. “I know her like the back of my hand, and I know she’s bad news.”

“Do you really even know her?” Alex pressed.

“Of course I do! Who was there when she broke her ankle? Me. Who was there when her fish died? Me! And who was there when everyone else wasn’t?”

“Not you anymore,” Alex cut in softly. Reggie's rant stopped short. The teen stopped pacing to look his friend in the eyes. “Reggie, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you have to admit to yourself, you still care about her.”

Reggie fumed silently. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Alex pressed his lips together. “I think you do, Reggie.”

“Alex you don’t get it! (Y/N) and me, that’s over!” his anger had sent him over the top. “Stop trying to say something’s there! It’s not!”

“Listen to yourself Reggie, just listen to yourself talk! If you heard what I’m hearing I think you’d have a different opinion,”

“Just-Just!...” Reggie pursed his lips and grabbed the neck of his bass pulling it back in front of him. “Can we just take it from the top,”

“Y’know Reggie I think Alex has a point,” Luke butted in, remembering his previous conversation with you, realizing how much losing Reggie had actually affected you.

“Oh joy,” Reggie sighed.

“Just hear me out,” Luke continued, regardless of Reggie’s reluctance. “Why did you get into music in the first place?”

“Because I loved it,” Reggie scoffed as if it was obvious.

“No really Reg, be honest,” Bobby added. “Specifically when did you start playing music more seriously?”

Reggie bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, tasting the metallic liquid in his mouth he shrugged his shoulders and flopped onto the couch.

“I got into it after I stopped talking to (Y/N),” he admitted. “But what’s your point?” he asked.

“You don't confront your problems Reggie,” Alex explained. “You came to music because it helped you block out the fact that losing her tore you apart.”

“Well if it tore me apart then why am I still here, huh? Why am I happy? Why am I even alive? If she was my everything then how the hell am I still here?!”

“Because she’s keeping you here,” Luke whispered. Reggie turned to Luke, at a loss for words. “Because even though you two had a falling out, you know that seeing her everyday at school...you’re glad she’s okay.”

Reggie ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know me,” he snapped back. “You don’t know what I think, or who I-I care about. You just don’t, so you can’t stop playing “mom,” Luke.”

Luke slowly approached him. “I don’t understand you,” he said truthfully. “You never open up or tell us anything. You say we don’t know you, you won’t even tell us anything. If no one knows you, then who does-“

“(Y/N)!” Reggie finally broke. The boys froze in their spots, only staring back at their struggling friend. “(Y/N), okay? She’s the only one who listened to me, the only one who cared. And now she’s gone because I pushed her away. All because I was so stupid and my pride got in the way. It’s my fault the best thing in my life is gone.”

Reggie realized what he had said and quickly pushed himself up and away from the couch.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he shook his head and tried to make his way out of the studio.

“Reggie wait!” his friends called back for him, but he shook his head and pushed his way out of the door just as Rose was heading into the studio. “Reggie come on! We’re sorry!”

Biting the inside of his cheek he cursed under his breath, knowing that they were right. He did push people away before they got too close and right now he didn’t have the strength to blame himself so he blamed you instead.

—

Reggie stormed into the almost empty library on Saturday, having had to walk to his detention from his home by the beach which was not close to say the least.

When he pushed on the door to come into the library with such force it startled you as you organized the books and put them back on the shelves.

Reggie didn’t speak to you as he tossed his things to the side and grabbed a cart, going to his designated spot in the library.

You were careful to not try and push any buttons, knowing he was in a fragile state, it was kind of obvious, but it was even harder not to address.

“Hey Flicka?” you said gently, trying to be as compassionate as possible.

“What,” he spat, shoving some books onto the shelf without much care.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, expecting to be met with barriers, that seemed to be all that comprised your relationship now. Walls, fences, barriers, and barricades.

“None of your business,” he said, his breathing slightly heavier as the tears burned in the back of his eyes and the lump grew in the back of his throat.

“I-I mean are you sure, you seem really agitated,” you noted and he didn’t respond. “Reggie you don’t have to hide anything. It can be my business if you want it to-”

“No it can’t!” he snapped, throwing the books that were in his hands on the table. You flinched at the loud noise the impact made. “It stopped being your business the second we stopped talking to each other so just leave it Cookie,” his voice carrying the same hostility it did weeks ago.

You paused for a moment, looking down at your pile of books before whispering,

“They’re fighting again… aren’t they?”

Reggie’s throat was burning, he wanted to scream into a void, empty himself of the pain because you were right, you were always right. Even when it felt like you didn’t know each other you were always there proving him wrong.

His hands started to shake and he dropped the books he had just picked up again, turning around so you couldn’t see him. Reggie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed or if he just didn’t want you to worry.

You wanted to reach over to your old friend, offer him some sort of comfort because you knew Reggie’s family and you knew how hard it was on him.

So you did the next best thing. Pulling out your MP3 player from your pocket you went over to Mr. Mallard’s speaker system and plugged it in, turning up the volume to the max, letting the soft plucking of guitar strings fill the library and the hallway surrounding you.

You went back to your pile and turned your back to him, giving him some sort of privacy, what you thought he needed.

Reggie wasn’t sure if there was another time in his life where he had listened to this song and related to it more.

So when he wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned around and saw you, he realized he didn’t want to be far away from you, he didn’t want to yell at you, he didn’t want that distance.

So he quickly pushed the chair and table with wheels out of his way before stopping right behind you, carefully reaching for your hand that was resting by your side.

When you felt his long slim fingers wrap around your own you turned around to look him in the eyes. They were still the same beautiful shade of blue and green, but unlike the last time you really looked into those eyes, they carried so much hurt. So much hurt and sadness that should never have been there in the first place.

But through it all they said I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for all of this.

And you nodded, back, accepting that apology.

So he didn’t hesitate a moment, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face in your shoulder. You nearly gasped in surprise as his grip around you tightened. It was as though he was afraid of losing you, and didn’t want to let you go. Lucky for him, you felt the same.

Slowly, your hands found their way around his neck. You could feel Reggie’s tears dampen your shirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“It’s going to be okay, Reggie,” you whispered.

Reggie sniffled quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that,” he murmured.

“Say what?” you asked.

“Say that everything’s going to be okay,” he continued in a hushed but angry voice. “Say that everything is all sunshine and rainbows when at the end of the day my parents will still fucking hate each other while yours struggle to keep their home.”

You stiffened under his touch. His words struck a nerve in you, but you pushed down the anger in you. He was hurting, and what he needed was a friend, not a fixer.

Instead, you squeezed him tight against you. “Then, don’t think,” you said. “Clear your mind and- and forget everything. Forget your parents, forget this stupid detention and the musty smell of these ancient books, forget me.”

Reggie dug his head deeper into your chest. “I don’t want to forget you, Cookie,” he murmured. “I-I don’t want you to leave me again a-and-“

You shushed him. “I’m not leaving, Flicka,” you reassured him. “I promise.”

Reggie let out another broken sob. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-it’s just that we both don’t have a good record with those. Promises, I mean.”

“Let’s clear the slate,” you suggested softly. “Start over to a point where all broken promises of the past are nothing but a mere memory, okay?”

Reggie nodded, placing his hands over yours. “I’d really like that Cookie,”

You smiled, removing your hand from his cheek and linking your pinky with his. It was just like when you were kids, but slightly different. This time, it had so much more meaning of hope and love. “Then take my promise to your heart, Flicka, because I’m not leaving. No matter what.”

Reggie rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting whatever tears had gathered to fall down his cheeks. You lifted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the spot right in between his eyes, letting your lips linger there a moment longer than they should have.

“Dance with me Cookie?” he whispered.

“Flicka, you know I suck at that,” you laughed quietly, ducking your head as your cheeks tinged red.

“Don’t worry,” he sniffed as you wiped a few of his stray tears. “I won’t leave you hanging,”

“Okay,” you breathed, allowing his hands to gently hold your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders.

As you gently swayed in the library you could vividly see two young teenagers in a brightly lit room dancing to the same song.

You could hear Reggie softly humming along with the tune, but when you opened your eyes and looked at him you were brought back to reality and realized what you needed to do,

“I’m gonna call the boys okay?” you said gently and Reggie winced. “I won’t tell them. I was just going to stay over at Rose’s place tonight so maybe we could all stay in the studio.” you suggested. “So you don’t have to go home.”

“Y-You’d do that?” he asked, a certain tone of surprise in his voice.

You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling away from him.

Making your way to the phone behind Mr. Mallard’s desk, you dialled Rose’s house number first to ask if it was okay to have everyone over, before making the subsequent calls to Alex, Luke, and Bobby.

After dealing with the phone you checked the time. Technically you still had an hour of your detention left, but for today Mrs. Hillside just swore you to honesty.

As much as it made you anxious to do so you looked over at Reggie and raised a brow.

“Should we call it? We can walk over to Rose’s place. I told Luke to bring some comfortable clothes for you,”

“Sure,” he nodded and you hesitantly let go of his hand. For some reason it felt like it was too much at once. You just needed a few moments to yourself.

All you ever wanted was for things to go back to the way they were, but now that it seemed to be happening it was a lot to take in and Reggie sensed that so he didn’t push farther, only grabbing his bag and walking quietly by your side as you left the school through a backdoor that was locked from the outside.

The situation for you both might have been one to cause panic or worry, but right now you both relished the fact that your friends were sure to provide a wonderful distraction.

—

“Lady bunny, you’re wearing your pyjamas already?” Luke chuckled from his spot on the couch while you walked out of the washroom, day clothes folded in your arms.

“I intend on relaxing today, kidnapper, thank you very much,” you said in a matter of fact tone.

“You still wearing my shirt to bed, Cookie?” Reggie teased and you stuck your tongue out at him before retorting with,

“Still wearing that Star Wars underwear Flicka?”

“Yikes,” Alex scrunched up his nose and Reggie’s cheeks went a darker shade of red than they usually were.

“They still fit okay, it would be a waste,” Reggie fought back.

“No one wants to hear that,” Bobby grimaced while you and Rose laughed together, relaxing on the futon.

“Why don’t we play a game or something?” Rose suggested. “Just to pass time, I mean this is a sleepover isn’t it?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded. “Any suggestions?”

“We could play would you rather?” Bobby said, “I mean that’s a favorite right?”

You nodded in agreement. “I haven’t played that game in a while, but I’m down.” Everyone gathered around the coffee table. Prepared to sit next to Reggie, you felt someone’s hand grab yours and tug you down. Looking to your right, you saw Luke smiling giddily at you.

“As your parent,” Luke said in a motherly tone. “I need to sit by your side in case any inappropriate language is used.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Luke,” he said.

Luke gasped, covering your ears and pulling you to his chest. “Language!” he hissed. “We have a bunny here and I don’t want you to taint her mind with your demon words. No fucks, no shits, no dicks.” You shot the boy a look before pushing him off you.

“Would someone tell this guy I’m not five?” you rolled your eyes only to have one of your cheeks pinched by Reggie while he snickered and said,

“You sure look like it,” You threw an empty solo cup at him.

“Who wants to go first?” Rose asked with a wide grin.

“Oh me!” Luke exclaimed, raising his hand and waving it around wildly.

“Sometimes I don’t know what you’re on,” Alex sighed and the rest of the group laughed.

“Okay, okay, um, Bobby would you rather smash your guitar or have it run over by a semi?”

“That’s just cruel,” Bobby looked at Luke wide eyed and he just gave him a smirk in return. He sighed heavily before saying, “I’d like to think if I smashed it, it would be from rocking out so hard so I’ll go with that one,”

“Okay now it’s your turn,” you raised your brows at Bobby.

“Alright, (N/N), would you rather be locked in a room with Reggie or Luke?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Both are horrible options,” you began, making the boys yell out in response. “But the real question is: would I rather be babied to oblivion or be murdered?” you thought for a moment.

“I wouldn’t murder you!” Reggie exclaimed. “That’s too easy,” he smirked and you gasped, slapping his arm.

“Hush you!”

“What would you do to torture her then?” Rose asked curiously, knowing exactly what buttons she was pushing.

“Well see if you really want to get someone you make them fall in love with you and then break their heart,” Reggie explained casually.

“Oh that is cold Reggie,” Alex said with wide eyes.

“But I wouldn’t do that to (N/N), I think she deserves a murder,” Reggie shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup.

“Put me out of my misery,” you nodded. “Alright, I’d go with Reggie,”

Luke pouted, leaning his head on your shoulder. “But we’d have fun, Lady Bunny,” he whined. “Don’t you love me?”

You scoffed, flicking his forehead. “Barely,” you joked. Luke just grabbed you by the arms and brought you up to him, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek.

“I’m your mom you have to love me,” he poked and you made a face, wiping your cheek after he had kissed you. “Hey! That was a sign of motherly love, how dare you!” You smirked, flipping him off before continuing the game.

After what seemed like hours passed, you and your friends got bored of the game once you started to run out of ideas.

Alex was nearly passed out on the floor, but Bobby nudged him awake. “Can we play a new game now?” Bobby sighed. “I know would you rather was my idea, but I’m kinda tired of it.”

You nodded tiredly, before your mind clicked with an idea,

“Wait how about MASH?” you asked curiously. “Reggie and I used to play it all the time,”

Reggie’s lips quirked up to a smile. “Yeah!” he exclaimed. “I’m still hoping I get that mansion and forty horses.”

“I don’t understand how you play rock music. Were you born in Montana or something?” Rose chuckled.

“Pfft,” Reggie scoffed while you laughed. He sighed and finally conceded with a nod. “Yeah okay, I’m not from here,”

“Wait you’re not!” Luke exclaimed and Reggie shook his head.

“I’m from Wyoming,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I moved here when I was like...four.”

Bobby’s face turned sour. “Wyoming doesn’t exist,” he said stubbornly.

Alex coughed, “Wait you don’t actually think that do you?”

“It’s a joke Alex, and you ruined it,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “But seriously Reg, Wyoming?” he frowned. “Like what do you even do there?”

“Live on a ranch,” Reggie sighed longingly and you tried to stifle a laugh, prompting him to put you in a headlock and ruffle your hair.

“You’re laughing right now, but no one knows where you’re from,” he smirked.

“Oh Reggie, you’re a dick.”

“Language!” Luke exclaimed, trying to cover your mouth while you protested and Reggie explained that you also were not a California native.

“(N/N)’s not from California either, she moved here when she was five,” Reggie explained.

“From where?!” Alex asked, completely invested.

“I thought we were gonna play MASH?” you tried to interject, but no one was listening to you and Reggie still had you locked under his arm. “Flicka don’t do this!”

“She’s from Canada!” he grinned and you groaned. “And the town she lived in is called Saint-Louis du Ha!-Ha!”

“Reginald!” you protested, finally wrestling yourself out of his grip while he laughed uncontrollably.

“The city has two exclamation marks in its name!”

“Guys,” Luke started seriously and Reggie’s laughter faded to silence as you listened to the band leader. “I-I have a confession to make. I’m also not from here,”

“You’re not?!” Bobby was coming close to losing it, having not known about his friends.

“I’m also from the Great White North,”

“Wait really?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m from Fredrickton,” Luke grinned.

“No way!” you exclaimed giddily. “So are you Acadian?”

“Proudly so,” he nodded and you gave him a high five.

“Canucks unite!” you laughed, not noticing the pointed glare Reggie was sending Luke.

Bobby pulls his hair in frustration. “Okay, who else isn’t from California here?”

Rose sheepishly raised her hand, much to Bobby’s disbelief. “Puerto Rico?” she answered, more so like a question.

“Dude,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She has a strong Puerto Rican accent.”

Bobby stood up abruptly, storming off. “I’m out of here!”

You stifled back a giggle, calling out, “Bobby! Where are you going?”

“TO THE FUCKING GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE,” he yelled back. “MAYBE I’LL FIND ACTUAL CALIFORNIANS THERE.” You rolled his eyes at his dramatics. You knew he would probably make it out the door before coming back in. The boy was far too lazy to make the drive, anyway.

“I wonder if he realizes that I’m from California, too?” Alex pondered aloud. The entire group burst into laughter.

“Let’s just start the game without Bobby,” Rose suggested. “Who wants to go first?”

“I can go,” Reggie nodded, grabbing a scrap of paper and writing down the things for each category.

“Okay hit me with some career options,”

“Stripper,” you said, slapping his back and he rolled his eyes, but still followed the rules and wrote it down under occupations. “You’d be a terrible stripper though, you can’t dance and you have terrible balance,”

“Okay I’d be an amazing stripper, but that’s besides the point,” Reggie countered and continued writing all the names and places his friends wanted thrown in his options. “Alright numbers now right?” You hummed in response.

“Do five,” you said with a toothy grin. “That was how old we were when we met.”

Reggie nodded, starting to go down each list and circling whatever he landed on. At one point as he counted, his face turned red as he hid the paper from you and everyone else’s view. Once he was done, you tugged on his arm.

“Come on, Flicka,” you teased. “Show us what you got!”

Reggie cleared his throat, “I mean is that really necessary?” he asked cautiously.

“Come on it can’t be that bad,” Alex insisted.

“Um, well it’s not bad perse,”

“How do you know that word?” Luke teased and Reggie rolled his eyes. “Just tell us,”

“Alright well I got a house, a music teacher, two kids, five horses and I’ll live here,” he nodded, trying to avoid a certain topic.

“Who do you marry?” Rose asked curiously.

“No one?” he answered unsurely.

Rose rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t an option,” she reminded him. “Come on, it’s just a game, Reg. Just show it.” When Reggie refused to move, Rose resorted to snatching the paper from his hands.

“Rose!” he cried out, reaching for the paper.

The girl only held the paper far away, squinting her eyes to read the circled mark. “It’s (N/N)!” she squealed. Rose and Alex high fived each other while you dug your into Reggie’s chest, completely flustered. As a response, Reggie wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his head against yours.

“It’s okay (N/N),” he said loud enough for the rest to hear. “We can just murder them,” he smirked and they all burst into a fit of outrage, during which Reggie leaned in closer to you, his lips coming close to your ear while he whispered,

“It’s nice to take a break every once in a while, right?”

You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, Cookie can let loose,” you joked.

“Of course she can,” he smiled, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Oh my God did you see that!” Rose pointed to you and Reggie and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“What can’t a guy hug a gal?” he countered and you just placed your hand on Reggie’s mouth before he made it first, prompting him to teasingly bite your finger.

“Flicka!” you complained while Luke immediately came to your rescue.

“Guys! You gotta leave at least a foot for Jesus, come on this is beginner stuff,” he poked. Luke swatted Reggie’s hand away. “Get your hand off my daughter. I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet, Peters.”

“Luke,” you whined at his extra comment.

“If they think this is bad they should’ve seen the dance Mrs. Leona made us do,” Reggie nudged you and you agreed with a chuckle.

“Since when are you guys in the dance class?” Bobby asked, coming back into the studio with more snacks.

“We’re not, Mrs. Hillside assigned under Mrs. Leona’s care for a day and we helped choreograph a dance for the sophomores next semester,” you explained, totally not realizing the implications of what you had said.

“You know they’re gonna make us dance now right?” Reggie sighed.

“Shit, they are, aren’t they,”

With a loud groan you both stood up and Reggie took your hand.

“From the top Cookie?”

“From the top,” you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

Rose reached for the speakers, connecting her MP3 to them and playing the song.

“Swing those hips, Reginald!” Luke whooped, reaching for the bowl of popcorn in the middle of the coffee table. Reggie mouthed a swear to his friend as his hands found his place on your hips.

“Watch where you’re putting those hands!” Rose warned. Rolling his eyes, Reggie teasing dropped his hands lower, only for you to swat them away.

“I’ll still bite you,” you hissed playfully.

“Promise?” he shot back.

Once the music started to play, you felt Reggie’s hand trail down your arm. Every move was burned to your memory as you danced along with Reggie. The comments of your friends -either cheering or teasing- escaped your mind.

And all that you wanted was for the night to never end.

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

The regretful Moony.

This full moon something had happened, and Remus knows that it is only his fault. He hasn’t been to the Hospital Wing, not only because that he is perfectly fine (no maimed or broken bone, just few scratches) but for the fact he will have to come face to face with an unconscious Sirius Black, severely injured by the wolf.

“Moony, please don’t stress over this. Sirius will be okay.”

Peter had ushered towards Remus, sitting on the floor beside his knees dangling from his four poster bed.

“How can you even say that!? He is dying because of me!” Remus had bellowed at Peter for the first time in the morning after the horrible full moon, and then regretted at once as he saw him going white in the face. However, Remus had remained quiet while hollowness welling up inside him.

Remus had hurt his bestfriend during his time being a werewolf, he hadn’t just attacked a person, neither just a friend but he had wounded Sirius Black, for whom he wouldn’t trade anything in the world, someone he had been in love since Merlin knows how long.

Without having to realize, Remus had severely hurt himself, despite of his physical injuries he was weighing a lot of compunction that was wrenching his own heart into tiny pieces. How were they supposed to heal? Remus wouldn’t forgive himself for what he had done.

Astonishing was that Remus hadn’t rolled a single tear yet because he thought he didn’t deserve to cry, he wasn’t the victim, Sirius was!

The dormitory had become blue and gloomy, no scarlet walls could bring the warmth back since the night that had led Sirius Black to the Hospital Wing and now that two days had passed away, people’s murmurings had started haunting Remus like a worse nightmare in his already traumatic life.

They are talking about shifting Black to St. Mungo’s!

Oh! Is it so? Why?

Yes! Everyone says that he was attacked by an animal!

Oh poor Black! He is stupid but he is very handsome.

Remus was completely daunted in the face, shuffling his feet around the castle while his mind drowning into the oceans of guilt and pain.

“Say the password, Scarred person?” said the Fat Lady. Remus didn’t realize that he had been sauntering from the Astronomy Tower and now had come to a halt at the Gryffindor Tower.

“Caput Leonis.” said a familiar voice which had become very despaired now. James Potter was standing behind Remus with a weak smile on his face. His face had no light of forever optimism, as though as part of him had been burned into ashes. As a matter of fact, it did, Remus thought. James’ other half had always been Sirius Black who had gone into a deep sleep and didn’t even tell when his bedtime will be over. Remus can tell that James had been stressing for his best friend, who meant the whole world to him. How could any one not hate him for this? Remus said mentally to himself, and it was certainly not a question.

However, James grasped his shoulder that had suddenly caught him by surprise.

“Moony, its going to be alright. I promise.” James spoke his polite tone that leapt Remus’ heart. He felt a lump forming in his throat and his eyes felt certain prickling, and before he knew it, his vision was obscured by tears which suddenly were streaming down his face. He began to bawl like a baby and for the first time he was not crying on Sirius’ shoulder, which was something that made him wept even more awfully.James cradled his arms around him. They were still standing in front of the Fat Lady who was silently sniffling to see them sunk in their sorrows.

James patted Remus’ back but he wouldn’t break apart. Why would he? He had been aggrieved the most of all! It was just like a needle had accidently touched the water balloon and now the pain had to gush out. James might had understood him since he was still rubbing his back without saying a word against his behavior. Remus had a hunch that James had known the certain special bond of him and Sirius which was none like brotherly bond as James and Sirius. It was so much more than that.

Sirius was Remus Lupin’s emotional support ever since he could remember. He was mischievous with James, he would tease Peter but when it came to Remus, he would help him to recognize his emotions and express them since Remus was never good with expressing his sentiments. Sirius would always suggest to sit calmly so that he could listen to him for hours.

He missed him. So much!

“Why don’t you go to the Hospital Wing to see him?” James broke apart to face him, sniffing, while his eyes were blood flecked.

“No...I-How...?” Remus murmured, wiping his already flooded face.

“Go and sit with him, talk to him, tell him that he will be alright-“

“HOW CAN I TELL HIM THAT HE WILL BE ALRIGHT WHEN HE CAN’T!? HUH?” Remus bellowed.

“Because he will be!” James eyes were tensed, “And stop blaming yourself for what happened!” He had become suddenly so serious that reminded Remus of McGonagall’ face when a student is late in her class.

Amidst the silence hanging between them, James escorted Remus into the Gryffindor Tower. They were soon sinking in their armchairs of the common room which was almost empty. Almost. Lily Evans was sitting on her chair. Her rare emerald eyes caught the presence of James and Remus and she abruptly stood up, wearing a a distressed look on her beautiful face.

“Remus!” She exclaimed and approached him. Lily was now talking to him. However to him only, not looking at James. “How’s Sirius?”

Before, Remus could gather his tiny ounce of strength to answer her, James intervened.

“Oh wow! Evans is concerned to Remus while Padfoot is my brother!”

Remus couldn’t process what had just happened before James stomped flat-footed from the common room to his dormitory. Remus could not be more remorseful, or else the option of dying or running far away sounded appealing in his head.

Lily stood quietly, her eyes narrowing in embarrassment.

“Lily, I’m sorry, James is just-“

“Don’t mention it, I know he must be going through hell.” She said.

If that was so, then Remus had been going through something worse than hell.

“Then why didn’t you ask him? He’s right. Sirius is just like his very own brother. Hell, he’s everything to him!” Remus spoke defensively.

“I’m just- you know what, forget it. How are you?” She was guilty which Remus could detect in her emerald eyes.

Lily sat with Remus for an hour and he realized that she had been a great diversion from this hell. The hell in which his mind was all about ‘Sirius might not make it.’. Nevertheless, she wasn’t an exception soon herself.

“So, why aren’t you visiting Sirius in the Hospital Wing?”

Remus’ heart dropped in his stomach.

“He must hate me, of course.”

“Why?”

“Because this was all my fault, Lily! He’s in there because of me, he’s wounded because of me, HE IS DYING BECAUSE OF ME!” Remus was practically yelling but Lily was staring him with her mesmerizing green eyes so serenely. He lowered his face, staring the carpeted floor dejectedly and letting few tears to escape from his eyes. Soft and fragile hands caressed his shoulders and Lily Evans had embraced him earnestly.

“You’re a very pure person, Remus. And I know that no one can understand you better than Sirius. He knows how genuine you are. He will never hate you. I haven’t known Sirius a lot but the one thing I’ve seen by the eye that cannot deceive me, is that none can value friendships as much as Sirius Black does. He is very loyal.”

Lily’s head was resting on his shoulder as he felt her breath in his ear.

Remus didn’t say anything but he knew that she was saying nothing but truth. They broke apart from their hug and Lily’s eyes were promising that urged him to thank her in a way that could make her happiest, but there was no courage after how James had stormed off. James was way more important to him than Lily Evans.

She walked back to her dormitory, leaving him in loneliness. It brought guilt and tormenting memories of the night when the werewolf lunged at Sirius and jabbed his chest, maimed his limbs and almost bit him... it was all a blur but a part of him remembered attacking.

I could have bit him! Remus said under his breath so not a single soul could hear, and a sudden surge of pain ran through his leg from his spine, shuddering at the memory.

Remus had sunken into the armchair, cozying himself by the fireplace and he fell asleep.

“Moony! Moony! Wake up!”

Remus’ body ached as he managed to open his heavy lids and saw Peter and James hovering up on him. He abruptly sit up, rubbing his eyes.

“Sirius!”

His heart sank at the mention of the name.

“They’re taking him to St.Mungo’s!”

And his heart stopped, as though he was spinning in a realm where suddenly the floor had disappeared and the limbs had became paralyzed. The worst had come.

The next thing, Remus Lupin saw was the stretcher being taken by healers that had the body of Sirius Black, his skin was pale and ice cold.

“SIRIUS!”

Remus Lupin was still sitting on his armchair and the fire had died away. It was just a dream. A terrible dream. His eyes were heavy and so was his heart.

The night had befallen as the common room became darker and Remus didn't move from his chair. Going to the dormitory was an invitation to a fight with James while roaming in the castle was no less than a hell where people eyed him and whispered about Sirius Black. He sighed in defeat. He was tired of being tired, hopeless and so pathetic. He was running away from this new fear which was being hated and disgusted by his best friend who was also someone he’d been falling for. I have to face this or else I am a coward, Remus thought. His inner spirit woke up as he sprang to his feet and without thinking, he ran down to the castle. He was running faster than when he was a werewolf.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Remus came to a halt at the door of Hospital Wing, his heart hammering in his chest. Madam Pomfrey came with a glare on her face.

"Do you realize that this is a Hospital where the patients are supposed to be sleeping at this hour, Mr. Lupin?" She frowned.

"I am sorry." He pulled himself together. "I was-I want to see Sirius Black."

His heart did a weird thing, and his throat felt dry. Madam Pomfrey gawked at him, the creases on her forehead were gradually vanishing. Remus thought he saw a little smile on her mouth.

"I am glad, then." He was right as she was smiling at him, while he was bemused at her happiness.

"Really?" He asked.

"Of course! Mr. Black had always been in here at your times, now you could pay him back."

Remus' stomach lurched and blood was racing in him rapidly that he thought that he was going to lose his balance. He gathered his scattered impulses and insecurities into one giant courage, and he walked into the Hospital Wing.

His heart suddenly sank as his amber eyes found the person he had come to meet. He approached to the bed, holding back his fear and tears at once.

Sirius Black was sleeping a three day long and deep slumber. His skin was nowhere to be seen since it was plastered almost everywhere. Fortunately his iconic black hair were revealing, probably that's how Remus had recognized him, which also made him smile. He reached out to stroke those hair affectionately, staring at his peaceful face that had always been so stunning. His skin was snow white with a touch of pink, as though numerous microscopic roses were planted on the snow capped field.

Remus recalled what James had said, Go and sit with him, talk to him, tell him that he will be alright.

“Sirius?” Remus leaned closer to the sleeping beauty and cooed in his ear so lovingly, just like a mother summoning her child to wake up for school so that he wouldn’t start bawling. “Can you hear me? My heart says you can.” He was now inches away from his face, his eyes might had been fixed at the serene face but his heart had overtaken his thoughts.

“Stop pretending, I know why you’re doing this. You want me to feel what hell is like.” A drop of tear splattered on Sirius’ cheek and then he realized that he was crying.

Well, you win! It’s killing me to see you like this! You promised me that you will always be there for me. Well now I need you! I need you, Padfoot.” His voice had become unrecognizable, which was somewhere between a whimper and a howl. “Wake up! Please! For my sake!”

Remus shook him but there was response. He buried his forehead on the pillow, his right ear brushed with Sirius’ while his hands grasping Sirius’ left arm which was the only part which had left uninjured. After a lingering moment, Remus realized that Sirius was not going to wake up. I will not give up on you, Remus said in his head. He was suddenly startled by a sound. Sniffing. He turned around and found no one and he stood there, dumfounded. He haven’t yet ignored completely when the voice echoed the Hospital Wing again.

“Whoever it is, I’m not scared of you!” Remus sounded valiant, expecting that no one could dare to reply.

But someone was not really a no-one because to Remus’ horror, a reply came in a familiar voice, “A hidden person does not always mean to scare people, Remus.”

Remus whipped his head around but not a single figure was spotted. And then suddenly, he stumbled back to see a figure standing before him. The figure’s silver hair was enough for Remus to recollect his memory that he had been looking at Albus Dumbledore.

However, he was not alone. Someone was accompanying him, behind his grey cloak. The untidy hair and rectangular-shaped spectacles. That was none other than James Potter.

“James?” Remus’ voice was a faint whisper.

“Mister Potter was wandering in the castle to look for his friend, worrying where he had gone.” said Dumbledore. “He thought that his friend might never pave his way to Hospital Wing so he kept straining his limbs to the library, then to the Boys’ lavatory and finally passing by my residence.”

“But I was wearing-“ James innocently began to argue.

“The Invisibility Cloak, Certainly. A very rare cloak, indeed. Hmm.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes travelled to the bed of Sirius. He walked to his side, brushing his long fingers on the bandaged forehead.

“Such a mischievous soul.” He said under his breath but Remus had heard him, gawking his face which was smiling so warmly at Sirius and then he looked directly at Remus, as though he had known that he was being watched.

“Remus, Looks like your friend really needed you.” Dumbledore had his hand rested on Sirius’ forehead. “He is healing now.”

Remus felt as if a grain of hope had just been bowed into him, but it was desperate to grow.

“Professor,” Remus spoke, “He is not going to St. Mungo’s, is he?”

“He is never leaving without letting his friends know. Mister Black never does anything quietly. You and James ought to know that, huh?”

Dumbledore’s eyes— as Remus feared—landed on Remus. His eyes tried to communicate the language of silence. Remus bored his naïve gaze into his, hoping to understand, but he was never successful. Suddenly, a deafening crash startled James and Remus that came from across the hallway. However, Dumbledore couldn’t be more calm.

“James, why don’t you tell Peeves that Bloody Baron is very angry today?”

“Yes, Headmaster.” James scurried away from the Hospital Wing.

The magnificent doors of the Hospital swayed to shut together and a wisp of silver light had landed on the door handles, locking them away. Remus turned to look at Dumbledore who had his wand in his hand.

“Remus, do you recall the night I came to your house and told you that you were invited to Hogwarts as a student? Can you reminisce that day?” He asked while conjuring up two chairs beside Sirius.

Remus cringed at the memory but replied, “Vividly.”

“Remarkable!”

“How is that so remarkable, Professor?”

“You see, As I can recall, you told me that you were a monster-“

“And I am!” Remus interrupted but Dumbledore ignored him.

“-But do you remember what I told you instead?"

Remus opened his mouth and then shut it quickly, reminiscing the words of the angel that came to his house to change his course of life.

In this moment, right in front of me, all i can see Remus Lupin. A clever and young wizard, who cannot wait to prove his worth. So, Remus, I will ask you again. Would you like to come to Hogwarts?

The voice saying those words sounded so vivid that his gaze was fixed at the person who had said them. Albus Dumbledore was that angel.

“Yes.” Remus’ voice barely audible but the Headmaster had heard him.

“My dear, it is not our abilities or misfortune that proves us what we are, it is our choices. And becoming a werewolf is not your choice, Remus.”

Dumbledore had rested his both hands on the shoulders of Remus, staring down at with a smile that seemed like a medication that had started to heal him.

“What happened that night, doesn’t define your friendship. But...“ Dumbledore faltered and squinted to look directly in those guilty eyes of Remus Lupin and said, “...staying away from the Hospital, does.”

Remus felt as if he had been jabbed right in the chest and now his guilt was brand new. He was a pathetic friend who was hiding in the places where Sirius wouldn’t expect him to be.

Dumbledore gave Remus a warm smile and then walked away, leaving Remus alone with Sirius.

----------

The birds were chirping which had always been annoying for Sirius when the walls of their dormitory used to be as warm as their color. When James would start groaning and Peter would join him too. This was how Remus’ morning had always been before the werewolf had attacked Sirius.

Remus could feel his body aching from sleeping in a chair. The sun rays were hitting at his face as he could feel their warmth against his skin. Remus didn’t open his eyes yet, and the birds weren’t stopping their singing. Remus wished if his mornings were still the same as before. He longed for Sirius’ ranting over birds, hoping he could hear it again when——

“Stop that horrible singing!”

Remus jumped in his chair, his eyes wide opened as he had recognized that same voice he had not heard since three days.

Sirius Black was sitting up on his bed who wore his usual bossy expressions. His eyes hadn’t yet found Remus as he kept his face to his constant left. Remus could see him cursing under his breath. He was at loss of words, his heart was swelling up with so many emotions hitting in him possibly everywhere in his body. He stood behind Sirius’ bed, as quiet as a cat.

“Nasty birds! And-I AM PERFECTLY FINE!” He bellowed to the walls of the Hospital Wing, as he stretched his arms, inspecting his injuries. “Just a little scratch-ouch!” He sprang up as he had touched the crimson wound on his palm. “Okay maybe I’m not completely perfect...” He was naively talking to himself while Remus hadn’t yet gathered the strength to express his relief that was surging in him so richly at the sight of his nightmare befalling, fucking finally.

“Si-“ he couldn’t began when he was cut off by Madam Pomfrey.

“Out of my way! Out of my way!” She came racing to Sirius’ bed, wrestling away from the flood of first year students outside the doors of Hospital Wing. “Mr. Black! You are not supposed to scratch your wounds!”

“But I am fine! I wanna get off this coffin!” He kicked his sheet and-

“OWWWW!” A current of sharp spasm must have passed through his leg as his face had turned pale and he wore a surrendered look on his already annoyed face.

“I told you! You cannot leave this bed for the next two days.” She glared at him. “Also, we’ll need to send your family a letter about your conditions.”

“Ah! They’ll be most aggrieved to hear that I’m still not dead.” He sighed and Madam Pomfrey gasped at him as she began to unwrap his bandages. Some of his wounds had turned brown and purplish blue. Remus gawked at them noiselessly from his behind, also surprised to himself for not been noticed by Sirius yet.

“Why would you say such thing?” Madam Pomfrey continued to make conversation with him, however Sirius seemed mundane.

“Believe me, You don’t wanna be in my place. Besides- I already have a family here so I never felt deprived.” He said and She smiled at him, and Remus saw her glancing at him for few moments. She didn’t give Sirius any hints of Remus’ presence, as if on purpose. “I miss James. I even miss Peter...”

Remus suddenly felt a pang on his chest, as though he had been hit by a whip. Why didn’t Sirius mention him? Was he still angry with him? Did he really started hating him?

“But someone I miss the most, should not see me like this or else... he will kill me before these wounds does.” He said under his breath, smirking to himself.

Remus was frozen still like a sculpture. Whereas, Madam Pomfrey had dabbed a green, slimy potion on one of Sirius’ last lesions. She had swaddled the white gauze-like cloth on his treated injuries, before she walked out of the hospital.

Remus composed himself and walked before Sirius’ bed. Sirius’ gaze suddenly caught the man standing before, his grey eyes filled with utter bewilderment, while his body went rigid like a knight. Remus couldn’t tell if he was shocked or surprise...or just scared?

Remus wasn’t sure if he could smile at him. So the both of them just stared each other, unable to utter a word as though their mouths couldn’t suffice to comprehend what their hearts were feeling.

After a pregnant moment of being lost in each other’s gaze, Remus gave up the game and finally spoke, “How are you, Pads?”

“Uh-I- Umm...” Sirius coughed as he had surely dried up his throat by his mouth being parted for so long. “I’m fine. How you’ve been?”

Remus didn’t feel good. This was not how he had imagined meeting Sirius after he had awaken from his almost death. This didn’t lessened his love for him though, and yet there had come a layer of discomfort between them.

Remus was never a liar. And surely he couldn’t be a liar to Sirius Black. If there was one thing Sirius had always loved about him, was his bluntness because he was Sirius Black, who had never failed to compliment the eccentric and uncommon choices. Remus glanced at his anxious face, and then looked away.

“Hell.” Remus murmured.

Out of nowhere, something surged through both of them at the accurate time. It all happened very unforeseeably fast when Remus and Sirius collapsed in each others’ arms. Sirius didn’t seem to care about his injuries because he was holding Remus very tightly. They were both soaked into each other’s warmth and Remus felt liberated as his body, against his will, shook as he let himself weep in Sirius’ shoulder. He was never going to let go of him. He would hold him for an eternity if he had to. Remus had clutched his infirmary shirt and he continued to sob.

“Hey hey hey, its okay. I’m more than fine, Moony.” Sirius had his arms gripped around the trembling Remus as he spoke into his ear. “Please don’t cry.”

“This-was-all my-my fault!”

“What? No! That was mine! And this is why I was afraid to face you that you’ll yell it my irresponsible action.” Sirius said.

“What are you talking about?” Remus sniffed as he released himself from Sirius’ embrace to sit up before him.

“I insisted on staying the night at the Shack and James and Peter told me not to because we haven’t yet become habitual to our Animagi form. And then turns out they were right. I couldn’t change myself into a dog and then the wolf caught me.”

Remus stared at him, mouth was wide open.

“Oh yeah and by the way, We are becoming Animagi. I-I mean, for you. You know to help you so so so...."

Sirius voice trailed off as Remus was not quite blinking, his mouth was parted, an unreadable expression etched to his face. Animagi? He was not able to decide whether he should cry out of gratitude for his friends to care about his transformation or to be angry for being so recklessly immature for risking their lives for the a werewolf. He heard Sirius murmur something under his breath which broke him out of his trance of dazedness. His face was already sticky from the old tears.

"What?" He asked in a whisper. His throat felt like it had grown thorns.

"Nothing, its just that James' gonna kill me that I reveal the surprise in his absence."

"Surprise? You think its a surprise?" Remus asked coldly, as he narrowed his eyes at his direction.

"Yes?" Sirius was right, Remus thought, to be scared of him since Remus was not having this bullshit of his friends going through something so extremely complex, and not to mention for becoming illegal to the wizarding world at the age of 15, for throwing themselves in death in full awareness. No! bloody hell no!

"Are you guys out of your fucking mind!?" He snapped so harshly that made Sirius flinch "You want to make a pack by becoming freaking Animagi! Didn't you people think before putting fucking leaves in your mouth that you'll be accompanying a dangerous creature which could kill you in a heartbeat?"

"Remus, werewolves don't act the way they do in front of human. You wont hurt us—"

"And what if I do? huh? What if I do hurt you one of you, I will become a murderer who let his best friends to follow him into a death trap. And do you think I will be able to live with myself if I kill you guys?"

"Remus..."

"I won't be able to live without you guys...none of you will be able understand my pain when you won't be here because of me..."

His voice fainted as he pushed passed the lump that had formed in his throat, which resulted in hot tears to drop on the sheet of Sirius' bed. He let his head fall, his hunched shoulders supporting his dangling head as he gripped the sheets. He sobbed and sobbed, over his fate, internally wishing for a second life in which he didn't have to be a werewolf.

"Look at me." Sirius said rather plainly but Remus shook his head. He didn't want to meet Sirius' fierce look. He was too ashamed to meet the gaze. He knew that all his friends wanted was the best for him because they genuinely cared for him, especially Sirius. He trusted Sirius with his life.

A cold hand softly grasped his wrist which finally made Remus to look up, and he saw Sirius staring with those burning silver eyes, concern swimming in them.

"Life is not fair. It is not, Moony. Everyone is going through something very unfair in their lives. And we cannot measure their miseries with ours, because if we do that we will just make our lives even more miserable." Remus dared to intertwined his fingers with Sirius' which laced back just as tight. "All we can do is to live this unfair life instead of surviving it. Sure, you go through the most terrible thing every month, Moony, and you can't do anything to undo it. But you can make it a little less terrible, be a little more forgiving on yourself. Don't put unnecessary debts on yourself, you are too fragile for that." The last part made Remus to let out a watery chuckle, grip of his hand in Sirius' tightened.

"Besides, Moony, this isn't a favor we are doing to you. We are favoring ourselves because it pains us to see you suffer. We can lessen that pain by being there for you."

Remus saw Sirius' expression go tensed, his frown deepening, his wide eyes fixed on their intertwined, and biting down his bottom lip. Remus realized that he was struggling to not to cry. He'd never seen Sirius cry. Remus shook their laced hands for the other to look up. When silver met amber, the world seemed secure around Remus. He knew that he couldn't thank far enough for this blessing that sat before him. If his lycanthropy was a curse, then a blessing was far too great.

“You make my pain easier.” Remus whispered.

“I do?” Sirius asked in a singing voice. Remus nodded.

“Then promise me that you’ll never leave me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

It was okay because Sirius was in life and that was enough. He will always love him. His love will grow each day more.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #moony x padfoot #hp marauders #james potter #petter pettigrew #lily evans #hogwarts

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