#Whenever I look at Moon's drawing I have the desire to bite Moon's nose.

[loreleilarai]

A gift for @baconlyswiss

She saw it on discord but anyway

I want to kiss and hug the snake boys so badly, and the closest way to do that is with drawings.

(Click on the image for better quality)

Get someone to look at you like Sun when you talk about what you like.... Well, you've already found him actually.

Moon caught a mouse that was hanging around his cave, he doesn't really play with her prey, but you are a special case.

Can we talk about how beautiful the designs are? While drawing I had fun making the patterns, and they are not even difficult, it took little time and I loved the result. I also got better at drawing snakes slightly while I was doing this lol. Playing with the lights of a sunlit treetop and a dark cave also amused me.

I told myself to post this about 6 times today, and 5 I forgot to do it. I have the attention span of a fish.

#lorelei being a fan #myart #naga!sun #naga!moon #Whenever I look at Moon's drawing I have the desire to bite Moon's nose. #I hope I never meet a naga in real life because I would not survive. #naga au #Moon is a very comfortable bed and Sun is a perfect listener. #But they are not spared from my urge to chew on things #Either we kiss or someone ends up with a bite

[spxllcxstxr]

Creature Teachers • R.L

(GIF not mine)

Request: Hii, this probably sounds really weird but can I request like a (professor, if you’re okay with that) Remus Lupin x vampire reader? Where she really needs some blood so he lets her bite his neck to help her and it can be like cute and romantic or smutty, idk whatever you’re comfortable with. Yikes sorry I sound so weird 💗 — anon

Summary: You’re a vampire out of blood replenishing potions. Your husband offers you his.

Warnings: heavy blood mention, a spider makes a quick appearance, biting, drinking blood, normal vampire stuff, insecurities, all vampire things are a wee bit suggestive if you think about it

Word Count: 1.4k

A.N: I didn’t intend for this to become fic length. Obviously, I got carried away with the idea. This isn’t smutty and it isn’t really romantic? But it’s not angsty. I have no clue exactly what to categorize this as. Hope you enjoy it, because I loved writing it.

****

When your eyes snap open in the middle of the night, you’re greeted by the pitch blackness of the room, and yet you’re still able to spot the spider weaving its web tantalizingly slow in the far corner.

You watch it dangle, seemingly in midair, but it’s thin and translucent web shines just enough for your eyes to catch it.

If you were alive, your heart would be racing and you’d probably be hyperventilating.

The rush of Remus’ blood flowing through his veins is ever present in your ears. His heart pounds evenly in his sleep, and you’re completely and painfully aware of his dorsalis pedis artery pulsating against your own foot.

Your limbs are screaming in pain, skin feeling paper thin.

Hunger.

Hunger is the one thing on your mind, and you groan. If you weren’t so weak, you would pounce on your husband and drain his entire body dry of blood. You’re thankful you’re so weak.

“Remus...” You rasp out, unmoving. “Please...”

You need him to wake up, to help you, so you continue to gasp out.

“(Y/n)?” He eventually mumbles tiredly.

The blanket shifts next to you and his foot ceases contact with your skin. You yearn for it once again, attempting to reach out and follow it, but your body won’t allow it.

“So hungry, Remus...” You whimper, fingers twitching, trying to reach out to him.

“I’ll grab your potions, m’love.” He mumbles, groaning as he gets up from the bed. Your ears pick up the creaking of his joints and the sporadic beating of his heart as he wakes up.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself down.

His bare feet pad across the floorboards and glass vials clink together.

“They’re all empty!” Remus exclaims, going through drawers and looking between stacks of books.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You whine out, roughly swallowing. Your flesh erupts in a fiery pain.

“I can run down to Snape—“

You hiss at the notion, hating his very suggestion. You didn’t need Snape meddling any more in your business than he already is. He was adamant about how the two of you were monsters, set loose around children. Snape delivered potions to you and your husband and yet he still couldn’t trust either of you. You didn’t want him involved to prove him right.

Remus sits on the bed, close to you.

“Bite me.”

His heart noticeably skips a beat due to anxiety.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him, the whites of his eyes the brightest part of him even in the dead of night.

“What?” You choke, eyes widening at the thought of real human, or at least part human, blood being offered to you willingly.

It’s been so long.

It’s been too long.

“Just enough to get you through the night. Snape will drop off more blood replenishing potions in the morning.” He clarifies quickly.

His heart pounds rapidly which is understandable considering you haven’t had the need to feed from him since you were in school.

“Are you sure?” You ask, trying to restrain your eagerness. Desperately, you lick your chapped lips at the very thought.

Remus hooks his arms under your armpits, dragging you up to sit against the wooden headboard.

Feebly, you head rolls against the hardwood that’s digging into your scalp. A terrible change from your soft and delicate pillow.

“You’re in pain, (Y/n), of course I’m sure. Just not too much.” Remus reassures, pulling off his black shirt, leaving his chest bare and exposed.

Usually, you would use this time to ogle your husband, but instead your eyes latch onto his neck. It’s like every fiber of your being is calling out to his blood supply.

Your vision practically tunnels around his palpitating carotid artery, watching as it jumps in fright. Your gums ache as a fog takes over your mind.

However, you try to fight your instincts off. Using the carotid artery would surely kill him, and rationally, you don’t want to kill your husband. You’re particularly fond of him. It also might be hard to explain how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor got drained by a vampire in the middle of the night.

You have to have control.

Your lips tremble as Remus drags his body closer to your own. If he’s talking, you can’t hear him. You’re too focused on making sure you don’t bleed him dry. It takes everything you have in you to keep your mind on track.

Abdomens are pressed together, your legs hooked around the small of his back, practically sitting in his lap.

You dip your head in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, burying your lips and your nose against his skin. Deeply inhaling, you can smell the coppery substance through his skin and you haven’t even punctured him yet. Your eyes almost roll back in your skull at the mere thought of real blood. Blood replenishing potions were fine, but they weren’t satisfying.

“You’re sure about this?” You practically have to force out through your lips.

A hand rests on the back of your head, fingers petting through your hair.

“I’m ok, love. Whenever you’re ready.” He shakily replies, swallowing roughly.

Your lips drop lower, away from the arteries and instead hover over the mess of veins nearby.

Before even biting down, you delicately place sloppy kisses on the area you’re about to ruin. You hear him try to calm his heartbeat with a deep inhale.

You draw back, teeth shifting to make room for your fangs, and you finally sink them past layers of skin. He yelps, grabbing onto your hair. He doesn’t try to pull you away from him, but it seems you’re his anchor.

A rush of blood fills your mouth, the coppery taste and scent overwhelming every one of your senses. There’s a sweetness hidden behind all that metal, and you quickly discover it dancing on your tongue. You greedily moan in desire.

You take great big gulps, your body strengthening after each one. You trail your fingers up to his hair, pulling at it to expose more of his neck to you.

Vaguely you’re aware that you’re getting too lost in the thick fog clouding your mind.

“Alright love, that’s enough.” Remus groans next to you.

You let out a low and pathetic whine, tightening your grasp on his hair, lapping at the wound you’ve given him. The flow hasn’t let up.

You hear his heart start to pick up speed at your defiance, like he’s panicking.

“(Y/n).” There’s a faint waver in his firm tone. “Enough!”

That’s enough for you snap out of whatever bloodthirsty trance you were stuck it.

You detach your fangs from his flesh, pulling back swiftly. Blood coats your lips and you dart your tongue out to capture the rest.

Quickly, you scramble away from him, untangling your limbs in favor of cowering on the mattress.

Blood pools where you bit him but you’re in the right headspace to be able to rip your gaze away from it. Your eyes focus on Remus, how pale he’s become, even though you didn’t take too much from him.

“Merlin, Remus.” You pick up his dark shirt and press it to his wound.

Somehow his eyes manage to find yours in the dark.

There’s a glimmer of pain lingering in his irises, and guilt pools in your stomach. A frown tugs at your lips.

You’re a monster, aren’t you?

Couldn’t even control yourself enough, so you had to force your own husband to keep you alive.

You could barely restrain yourself while feeding off of him—you almost killed him. You would’ve, if he didn’t speak up.

“I know what you’re thinking...” Remus murmurs, lazily placing a hand on yours, pressing the shirt firmer against his body.

You purse your lips. Of course he knows, he goes through the same thought process every full moon.

“I’m fine, love. We’ll just both have to take a potion in the morning.” He reassures, scooching back to lay his head in his pillow. “But right now, I’m tired.”

Delicately, he gets under the blankets, shivering slightly.

While you don’t need to sleep at night, to be honest you’re not even tired, but the way he stretches his arm across your cold torso has you cuddling up to his side.

You stay up listening to his heartbeat even out and his breathy snores, knowing that you’re both alright.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Remus Lupin Taglist: @lunalovecroft

#Remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus Lupin fluff #Remus Lupin angst #the marauders x reader

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh OIKS ROUTE

a/n: this,,,, is probably the angstiest out of the routes and i seem to only write angst for oikawa and i think its a problem

this is for @what-a-creative-username​ bc oikawa is their favorite seijoh boy so this is for you 🥺

and actually buckle your seatbelts bc this is my longest work and its the biggest mess ever :’) also, this is kinda all over the place soooo

anon:

- May we have an x Oikawa ending to the Manager AU?

- okaayyyy so this is a request for the manager series. please pleASE PLEASEEEEE- make a oikawa ending! 🥺 cuz he’s my favorite and all those times with him in the story feel like more than just friends

OMG IM SORRY BUT MY INNER OIKAWA SIMP THAT I NEVER KNEW WAS EVEN THERE STARTED TO PEAK THROUGH

so basically yea

as seen in a lot of the parts,

oikawa is very,,,, loving towards you

like his entire demeanor was just so different and so,,, authentic,,,, than the ones he shows to other females

maybe it was because you didnt want him in the beginning?

the moment he saw you, he did his first antics and he expected you to turn red and fluster and cutely shy away from him 

yanno the works

yet you gave him a stony stare and denied him

ofc he was hurt and a little offended bc were you rejecting him?

hes never been rejected before and he prides himself for that but you just did and continued to do that

so he made it his mission to make you at least feel something for him

like the period part or his random proclamations of his love for you

he did it all

it didnt matter if it would bite him in the ass later because he was impulsive and he wanted you to show yourself being affected with his charms

because he was the FREAKING OIKAWA TOORU

ong this is like his validation that he is still a ladies man and has a charm that couldnt be resisted by anyone

he constantly told you that he loved you to see a reaction from you and he always was touching you whether it was just the shoulder or your hand

oikawa wanted to see you as his own personal cheerleader and you reacting to his affections would really bring him over the moon

this brings us here in the gym today

‘y/n-chan, do you want to go-’

‘oikawa-san, i dont trust you wanting to go on an innocent outing without any hidden intentions’

the team snickered and he pouted, eyes watering and curling at your side

‘y/n-chan, please? oikawa-san really wants to spend time with you~’

he begged and you finally looked up from the notebook and stared at him

god hes been much more annoying lately but you knew it was his way of letting out his anxiousness and nervousness for the incoming interhigh

so you decided to indulge him just this once and made a deal with him

‘the moment you try anything, even remotely romantic or flirty, i will leave’

you bargained but he gasped

‘what?! then what’s the point of-’

‘so you DO have hidden intentions, oikawa-san?’

you raised your eyebrow causing oikawa to quickly shake his head and detach from you

‘fine. none of that stuff, just hanging out, okay?’

he was still fussy but he accepted it

oikawa had a plan to take you to a cafe that just opened up and take you shopping and basically spoil you because girls like that, right?

they fall for boys who give them everything, right?

nope

so i read a study that surprisingly most girls arent into shopping apparently and they prefer to buy something themselves because apparently they feel indebt and dependent on men if they let them spoil them like that

idk about you but i would let oikawa spoil me tho

his plans were completely crushed when you argued with him for nearly 15 minutes to take half of your tab with the food

‘y/n-chan! i invited you out so i should pay! and boys have to pay!’

he complained, holding the other end of the tab envelope thingy but you pulled it back towards you

‘oikawa-san. you should never listen to societal normalities and instead listen and respect my wishes of paying for my half rather than going by the rules of males paying for females’

im sensing a bit of a bokuto and akaashi typa relationship between you two

oikawa shook his head and slightly stood up to lean over the table, his face approaching yours and you were slightly surprised by the sudden closeness causing you to lean back and be focused on getting away so your grip on the tab loosened

he grinned as he snatched it away from your grasp and quickly placed his card into the slot before running up to the cashier

your mouth was slacked and surprise was still written on your face even when he returned and oikawa held up a peace sign to try and lighten up

but your shock morphed into being upset

‘oikawa-san, listen here. you had-’

but he waved you off with a smile

‘no, you listen here, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you therefore he will give you everything in the world and all you have to do is sit there and point at whatever you want because my love will bring it to you~!’

you rolled your eyes

‘please stop being like that, oikawa-san. im not your girlfriend so dont act like my boyfriend’

he lightly scoffed, disguising it with a cough

‘y/n-chan, i dont think you understand. oikawa-san is telling you to be his good little girl and sit down. i dont understand why youre being so stubborn’

he growled softly

wHAT iS hE sAYinG

you shook your head in disbelief and stood up collecting your things making the brunette to also stand up in curiosity

‘y/n-chan? youre leaving already? i wanted to go see other places with you! i wanted to take you shopping!’

you halted and looked up at him through your long eyelashes

‘oikawa-san, i’d rather you save your money and rest your injuries instead’

you reasoned but he raised his hands in front of him to signify his wish for you to stop

‘but i want to be with you, y/n-chan’

he whispered and you blinked

‘i dont want you to spend a single dime for me after this. just you and me, oikawa-san, no money, just us’

he nodded eagerly

‘we can go anywhere you want! just,,, stay with me’

then he found himself in a bookstore with you

it was a quaint hole in the wall bookstore that you both found as you walked down the street and you excitedly dragged him inside, hand still laced together

the rows of shelves that contained different worlds in the pages were your serotonin

he watched you excitedly run to the fiction section and browsed through the different spines for anything special to check out

‘y/n-chan, i’ll go use the bathroom really quickly’

you nodded and oikawa kissed your temple before he left towards the restroom

your eyes flitted across the different titles and you snatched a book of poetry

oikawa hurriedly walked over back to you but he didnt find you at the place you were before

so he continued sifting through the mini hallways of shelves and then he stopped

it was so,,, domestic 

seeing your bright eyes looking down at the book  on your hands and the way your mouth slightly moved with the words

it was such a simple sight yet why did you look so beautiful?

the shimmering eyes that flittered when you came across a sentence you liked 

the soft lips that kinda jutted out making his desire to feel it increase that he would give anything to feel on his own

you were so focused that you didnt notice him moving behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, only noticing his head resting on your shoulder

‘’come, my darling, it is never too late to begin our love again’’

he mumbled to your ear and you released one hand from the book to grasp his arms that were around your middle

‘you read poetry?’

you whispered and oikawa chuckled

‘of course. a man as romantic as I am ought to be a poet’

he reasoned and you laughed

‘yet you fail to sway me, oikawa-san’

‘no, there is a difference. you dont want my love but i know you want to be loved by me, i can assure you!’

you swiftly placed the book back on its former place and you turned around to swing your arms around his neck

‘hmm,,,, love was never something for me. especially with you boys around’

oikawa looked down to see your shorter height and he caressed your hip

‘i love you, y/n, so let me love you the way you deserve to be’

he whispered not understanding the weight of his words and you looked down to hide the growing blush on your face before burying your face into his sweater-clad chest

‘so not fair oikawa-san’

you mumbled against the fabric but he heard it and he bursted into giggles

‘ehh~~ youre not being the fair one, y/n-chan! youre make it so hard to not fall for you when youre so beautiful~!’

he whines and you rested your chin on him so you could look up at him and your pout made him squeeze you tighter

‘hah?! that doesnt make sense! im nothing but a mess of-!’

you started but was cut off when he kissed your nose and whispered:

‘but what a beautiful mess you are’

okay so i know this is the saddest one out of the routes but ive just been serving fluff so the angst is coming soon!!!!!!

once you both were finished in the bookstore, you suggested going to this hill that allowed you to see the stars clearer

‘hmm, oikawa-san, there’s this place that natsu used to take me to whenever he wanted to see the stars so i think you’d like it’

you mentioned while walking on the sidewalk

oikawa’s hand was clutching yours and you were swinging it back and forth while lightly skipping and kicking the rocks

he watched you, amused, at how child-like you were acting right now but he was also touched, knowing your knowledge of his love for space

‘sure!’

the night sky allowed the stars to light up and you both shared giggles and laughs as the two of you stumbled over your feet with no light except from above

however once you made it to the top of the hill, oikawa pulled you close to him as you huddled on a seated position

‘how’d you know i would like this, y/n-chan?’

he asked and you gave him an obvious look

‘hah? its so obvious! you keep drawing the cancer constellation on your skin and you had an astrology book in your bag that you were also reading in the bus’

your answer brought warmth inside him and he never thought you were so perceptive of him

you noticed every little thing he does and hes,,,, never had someone do that before

except for iwa and his family and team, no one knows of his little ticks and the way he becomes obsessive of a topic once he gets interested in it

you noticed it all

‘that right there, its the big dipper!’

you pointed and he followed the direction of your finger before nodding

‘yep! waaahhh its much prettier seeing it higher up than my roof!’

he exclaimed and your gaze left the constellation towards the boy beside you

‘really,, pretty’

you absentmindedly muttered yet he was sharp and heard you

‘but its different to look at something much more beautiful’

this caused you to quickly go back to looking at the stars so you missed his love-filled eyes

‘i want to name my children by constellations. so that they can keep the oikawa legacy going forever like constellations being at the sky for all eternity. or naming it after the sky! then i can make sure theyre never going away’

he said and you nodded

you kept pointing out different shapes and laughing at his funky claims of what some stars connected to and created

‘oikawa-san, lets go to the star festival later’

you offered and he in turn looked away from you, turning red at the way the small lights illuminated your face and somehow making it more,,,, angelic

so he covered it up with his own teasing 

‘oh? the meeting of the two lovers?’

you dont know why but your cheeks burned at the mention of the ‘L’ word and oikawa noticed, quickly poking fun of your cheeks

‘oh, y/n-chan, dont be so shy!’

you pouted and turned away

‘never mind’

oikawa’s laugh rang throughout the space and he pulled you closer, practically sitting on his lap, while pointing out the stars and him pressing kisses to your cheeks

the intertwining of your fingers combined with the kisses made you feel as if you were floating with how free you felt

and you loved every moment of it

after that outing with your captain, you were conflicted

it wasnt the first time he’s openly said he loved you and his shower of affections have been there since the very beginning

yet how come you were just now feeling,,,,, different??

you were sure you felt an odd feeling inside you when he said your name with no usual suffix and it wasnt just the food that didnt agree with you

whenever his lips came in contact with your skin, it left blazing trails of red that spread out as far as it could

the heartbeat that quickened once he kissed your forehead at your doorstep and the grin you last saw when you closed the door

or the unknown smile that you didnt know you had on until natsu, who was visiting, pointed it out

‘darling, why are you just standing there? and why are you smiling like that? its weird, stop it’

you didnt even have the attitude to scold him and you giggled before twirling and holding his hand

‘oh, natsu~ i want to dance! and sing!’

you shouted, taking him with you and dancing around the living room

tbh natsu was very worried but he remembered you mentioning that you were meeting some guy today and it might be the reason as to why you were acting like this

he was happy

you deserved to be loved as you are and you were finally getting that love

but,,,,,,,,,

it didnt last long

albeit having a lot of fun, oikawa seemed,,,, off to you

it was,,, awkward

maybe it was because you were now aware of some type of growing attraction inside of you or every little thing he does to you could send you into shapeshifting and channeling your inner tomato

forget potato, youre now a tomato

but even his touches and affections were now limited

restricted

like the the next time you both saw each other, you shyly but happily bounded up to him and greeted him good morning

but his eyes widened, taking a step back before laughing awkwardly

‘ah ha ha, hey y/n-chan’

oikawa greeted then side-stepped to enter the gym

god you felt like you were slapped in the face

you remained frozen, staring at the spot he previously occupied and your mind was running quickly

was it because your senses were now heightened that everything made you extra sensitive?

usually, oikawa would squeal at the fact you were even greeting him this morning but he literally just walked away from you

no, you were just,,,,

overreacting

right?

yea, just,,,

overreacting

iwa noticed your downcast expression and he had a feeling it had something to do with oikawa’s off expression

you hurriedly placed your bag down and took out your notebook to start taking notes for their practice

big boy ace went up to you and placed a hand on your arm which caused you to flinch

he immediately backed off, letting go and stepping back

‘wh-hey? y/n? you okay? did something happen?’

he worriedly asked but you shook your head, not even bothering to meet his eyes

‘uh-yea. mhm, perfectly fine’

you lied and he wanted to press further but mattsun and makki called you over to check out their blocks so you ran to them

but he had a feeling you were just taking every opportunity to not answer his questions

while you were pre-occupied with the meme team, iwa marched up to oiks and tugged him around to fully talk to him

oikawa watched your interaction and he knew iwa would immediately start questioning him too

‘oi, what the hell did you do’

there was an underlying tone in his best friend’s voice that he didnt particularly like

oikawa did what he does best and plastered a smile on his face

‘hm? what do you mean, iwa-chan?’

‘what the hell do you mean what do i mean? you speak japanese dont you? so tell me what the hell happened during your date because it seems like shit happened and now youre both acting weird’

oikawa flinched at the blunt words but it was the truth

he was acting weird and this caused you to probably act weird too

god hes so dumb

but he,,, was going through stuff right now

it was a situation that he didnt want to involve you in 

and,,, seeing you dancing with natsu with the biggest smile on your face through the window of your house

okay guys dont think this is weird or stalker-ish bc i actually saw this in a kdrama ages ago and i thought it was just so sweet and cute and dont take it the weird and stalker creepy way :(

it certainly brought him pain

this was what he wanted though, right?

he wanted to see a reaction from you with his antics and he wanted to see you flustered and giggling like one of his lovestruck girls

but dear god that was when he became aware of your growing feelings

oikawa even saw it before you did with the way you gave him those longing stares and small smiles and the small squeezes of his hand when he would laugh

initially, he wouldve teased you for it but then he kept quiet

this entire time he knew you, he felt,,, love,,, for you

and by god, he was so scared

he wanted to run away

because he was well aware of his personality and him as a person 

he could make you smile the biggest and the happiest but he was also the type to make you feel the most pain and cause the deepest wounds on your already fragile heart

he didnt want that responsibility and burden

it was too risky

oikawa knew he was a ticking time bomb and he was afraid if you got even just a centimeter closer

you would be the one hit with the blast the most

maybe it was that sight that made him want to distance himself

it was a sight that made him realize that you deserved someone much better and that someone couldn’t be him

the happiness that danced in your eyes and the smile that decorate your beautiful face

can you imagine the irony?

the moment you notice of your growing feelings, the moment he decides to withdraw and pull away

.......

practice was,,, suffocating? 

the team knew of the tension these past few days and you both def were not the same

oikawa has not said he loved you or even pestered you once and as much as the guys hated seeing it, they were getting worried

did you both fight?

what happened?

when oikawa was talking with the coach and you were grabbing something from the storage room, they immediately took this chance to pounce on iwaizumi since he was the closest to the both of you

‘oi, iwaizumi, the hell happened?’

makki asked and the others nodded, wondering the same thing

but they were surprised when he shrugged

‘dont know. stupidkawa refuses to talk and i dont want to bother y/n bc she seems,,, weird about it’

if iwaizumi didnt know, then something serious did happen

you and oikawa continued this weird eggshell walking and you even gave up after trying to ask so many times on what was wrong and only to be answered with,

‘nothing~! y/n-chan should never have to worry her pretty little head about old me~!’

that answer didnt bother you

it was his smile

the genuine smile that you were so happy to receive as it was only for you

now seems gone and replaced with his fake one as if you now became one of his fangirls

what took the cake was his appearance to practice with a girl in his arm

they were both laughing and seemed trapped in their own little bubble to even notice the team’s wide eyes and concerned looks to you

you didnt even notice your teary eyes until mattsun quite literally picked you up and shouted he wanted to help you fill up the water bottles

he placed you outside, sitting on a bench by the gym

you were biting your lip and staring at the ground while he was leaning back and looking at the sky

‘the sky is very pretty today’

he complimented but it wasnt heard by you

you only came back to reality when he nudged you gently and you shot him a crooked smile but he sighed at the look of hurt written all over your face

‘oh, y/n, i am getting increasingly worried for our generation. theres so many sad eyes on happy faces’

he tutted and returned to gazing back up to the clouds

you scrunched your nose and scoffed

‘i dont understand you, mattsun-san’

you mumbled and fiddled with your fingers

mattsukawa issei shook his head and pointed above

‘y/n-chan, our eyes enables us to identify beauty and we have the urge to immediately capture it to remember that we did find something beautiful. yet, we feel hopeless as we cant to put the beauty on paper because we are only given one crayon to draw the sunset’

it felt all muddled

there was no sense in his words and you were sniffed, trying to understand

‘mattsun-san, did you eat any more of those candy makki-san bought from that one guy?’

he bursted into laughter and you couldnt help but quirk your lip at the sound of his joy

‘who knows? taka is my boy and i trust him so if he gave it to me, then,,,, it cant be that bad, right?’

you blanched

‘mattsun-san! im not about to go pick you up from the er again just because makki-san dared you to do something!’

mattsun finally wandered his eyes over to you and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear

‘thats the thing with you, y/n-chan. youre quick to love others but you lose pieces of yourself in the process. i have no right to tell you who deserves it but please ask yourself, is that sacrifice worth it?’

you knew he wasnt talking about your love for the team

but for the love for a certain setter that didnt go unnoticed by the middle blocker

leave it to mattsun to make you laugh and you were letting out your last giggles as you stepped into the gym

oikawa stopped talking and focused on the two of you, 

more specifically,

you

he watched as you laughed and swatted mattsun’s elbow as he jokingly made fun of your height by resting his arm on top of your head

yes this was what it was supposed to be

you deserved someone who could make you smile and only smile

he doesnt even hesitate but even imagine the tears that would fill those beautiful eyes and he knows it would all be his fault

no

he will stop that from happening way before it would occur

he will do anything to make sure you will never cry because of him so he will distance himself and now, he gives up

it could just be his stress and insecurities talking but he knows right now,

he wants you away from him

oikawa tooru, the boy who could get anyone he wants, couldn’t get the girl he wishes for the most

dear god was it laughable

after practice was finished,

you quietly and quickly packed up the nets and picked up the balls to get yourself out of there

these past few days made you feel so much confusion that it hurts

if there was anything worse than him not talking to you,

it was not knowing why 

that curiosity and desperate need for answers creates wild and self-destructive theories 

did you chew too loudly when you ate?

were you boring and not as fun as the others?

was he angry and humiliated of his pride as a man when you scolded him for paying for you?

has he gotten tired of you now that he knows who you really are?

that last question suddenly created a new set of tears to appear

throughout the day, you were so composed and distracted yourself with the lectures of your teachers and not anything of why this certain brunette was avoiding you

but a single insecure question made that wall crumble and you hurriedly shoved the trolley of balls into the storage room and grabbed your bag before rushing out of there

you sniffled and hurriedly walked home so you could go and cry on your bed in peace

but ofc 

hiroshi natsu exists so ofc he distracted you when you entered the house with a red puffy face

quietly, he led you to the couch and he wordlessly grabbed a tissue box from the coffee table to dab away the tears

you sniffled and clenched your fists to will yourself to stop these dumb salty water drops

‘i cant tell you its going to be okay because i dont want you to cling on to false hope. but i know it hurts. its worse that of all people, oikawa tooru had to be your first ever crush’

he chuckled

you took a shaky breath and wiped your face

‘this was why i shouldnt have liked him. god! all we did was eat dinner and look at the stupid fcking sky! thats it! so why-! why do i suddenly like him?! AM I THAT DESPERATE?!’

you wailed and blew your nose while natsu patted your back

‘i mean,,, to others it sounds like youre easy to sway’

you looked up from the tissue to glare at him but he continued

‘but to me,,,, it sounds like it was just the last push you needed to finally see oikawa tooru in that way’

you nodded, laughing weakly

‘i dont know why im acting like a lunatic like this. hes just a crush anyway so it’ll probably fade in a day or two so bear with me until then, kay?’

but his grim shake of his head gave you no hope

‘rather than fade, it will grow. and i might have to bear with this for the rest of our lives. now you be a bad bitch and sit there and look fine as hell while i go order 10 boxes of pizza and load up teen moms’

the impromptu movie night distracted you a little bit from it all but you still couldn’t help but think about it

GOD WHY WAS NATSU SO DRAMATIC?!

BECAUSE OF THAT IDIOT YOU ARE NOW SITTING IN CLASS, BAGS UNDER YOUR EYES, AND BREAKING YOUR PENCILS IN HALF

all you have to do is make sure you think of oikawa doing something disgusting to make that attraction fade away

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his toes

oikawa licking his-

‘y/n?’

you snapped out of your daydream when kunimi reached out to you

kindaichi, who came over for lunch, and him were staring at you in concern and they shared a look

‘y/n, something must’ve happened that day with captain’

kunimi started but kindaichi snapped

‘see?! this is why we shouldve never let you go! the first time you go with him and now youre a mess! tell us! did he force himself on you?! did he-?!’

you stopped the onion top boy with a forced smile and a squeeze on the arm

‘o-oikawa-san would never do that, kindaichi. hes better than that’

‘but clearly not because look at you!’

he shouted and you flinched 

kunimi hurriedly knocked him to the floor

‘get ahold of yourself, kindaichi’

he mumbled and you stood up and walked to the bathroom at the west wing that nobody uses so you could freely cry without any suspicion

was it obvious?

was it clear that you have been a mess after a week of being ignored by oikawa?

nah, youre just being a dramatic little shit

youre sticking to your word of quickly forgetting about the whole ordeal

but you definitely cant if your nightmare was happening before your eyes

as you approached the bathroom from the end of the hallway, 

you saw an unknown girl but an all too familiar boy giggling and rushing to get inside the bathroom

and for good measure, oikawa looked around to make sure no one was there but then he saw you

despite the distance between you, he could see your glistening eyes from the sunlight that seeped in from the big windows

he saw the way your hand trembled and your eyes twitched when haruna poked her head out to see why he was still outside

‘oikawa-senpai~~’

she drawled out and reached a manicured nail to his wrist 

your eyes followed her touch and then you and the boy shared eye contact

through the watery eyes, he could clearly make out your silent plead

please dont go to her

please

stay with me

dont go

but he went in anyways

------

that was the moment you forced yourself to not think about him anymore

as if you werent even working your hardest lately, you will work your hardest now

everything between you and him was now strictly professional as practice that day signified the very first day of your moving on stage

you couldnt believe these past 2 weeks has been a real nightmare yet you were slowly waking up from it

there was nothing you could do about it bc oikawa obviously didnt mean anything he said to you and maybe thats what ticked you off the most

you were easily led on

he blindly tugged you along the moment you saw his smile

he definitely thought of you as just as a game and when he finally got tired and bored, he dropped you and went to another

kunimi and kindaichi noticed the coldness of your eyes and the stoic expression on your face and they were genuinely terrified of you so they didnt want to ask any questions

even with packing up, you aggeressively shoved everything in your bag and the blep boy finally gained the courage and nervously tapped his finger on your desk to gain your attention

you swiftly dropped in your pencil case and looked at him

‘what’

he flinched at the cold tone and his eyes showed concern

‘uh-i-are you okay?’

he slowly asked and you visibly clenched your jaw but you nodded anyways

‘never better’

you didnt bother waiting for him to finish packing up and even passed kindaichi by the door as you were walking towards the girl’s locker room to change into your manager outfit

your entrance to the gym made the noise die down and you noticed the third years with glares on and aggressively practicing

‘whats wrong with all of you’

you asked and iwa scoffed before shaking his head and opening his arm

‘cmere. i missed you’

he said and ngl you were a little confused bc this wasnt something iwa usually did but you still stuck to his side

‘why-’

‘he told me what happened’

iwa whispered and you stiffened in his arms

‘w-what?’

iwaizumi flung the boy to his own bedroom wall

he huffed, panting at both the weight of oikawa tooru and the intense anger that burned through his veins

‘you-you are a piece of shit!’

he shouted and he moved to grab oikawa’s collar and lifted him so the brunette could see the fire and disgust present in his olive eyes

‘you think i didnt see what the hell you did? fcking leaving y/n sobbing as you-you-! AGH!’

iwaizumi couldnt even finish his sentence as he was so angry that he harshly sent oikawa flying back down to his floor

oikawa was crying

not from the beating

but from his regrets

god he knew he messed up

he shouldnt have done it

but he did

iwa ran his hands through his hair and angrily sat on his best friend’s bed, eyes shooting daggers at oikawa

‘right now. tell me the truth right fcking now or so help me god’

he hissed 

oikawa tooru shuffled closer to the wall and brought his knees up to his chest

‘im so scared’

he sobbed

‘im so scared, iwa-chan’

his tears were pouring down and he brought a hand to muffle his cries

‘i-i just w-wanted to-to see something out of her. li-like a reaction! because she wasnt like th-the others! but instead i fell in love! me! and she did too!’

he pointed and quickly stood up, pacing and gripping his hair

‘it was all just for fun! she-she knows im like that! yet she still fell in love with me!’

‘how could you tell she-’

‘BECAUSE OF HER EYES!’

even iwa flinched

‘HER EYES SHOWED ME LOVE! HAPPINESS! AN-AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID?! WHEN SHE GOT HOME?! THROUGH HER WINDOW, I SAW HER DANCING! SO HAPPY SHE WAS DRAGGING THAT BASTARD COUSIN OF HERS AROUND! I DID THAT! I CAUSED THAT!’

there was so much confusion in this poor spiky haired boy bc he knew oikawa was in love with their manager so why is he avoiding her now even though she reciprocates those feelings?

‘im missing something here, oikawa. youre telling me, she loves you, but youre here regretting that?’

his tone of disbelief made oikawa shut his eyes in frustration

‘DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?! YOU CALL ME A PIECE OF SHIT EVERYDAY AND I KNOW THAT! I FCKING KNOW THAT IM A PIECE OF SHIT AND A FCKING BASTARD!’

he shrieked

thankfully, his family wasnt home currently to see him breakdown

‘SO WHY THE HELL DO I DESERVE A LITERAL ANGEL?! A GODDESS?! A BEAUTIFUL PERSON FOR ME?! A FCKED UP NARCISSIST EGOTISTICAL IDIOT?! AN IDIOT WHO’S TOO PRIDEFUL TO GET THE HELP HE NEEDS?! I COULD HURT HER! I COULD DESTROY HER IN A SINGLE SNAP! THE SCARIEST FACT IS I COULD DO IT WITHOUT THINKING! I COULD SAY THE WORST THINGS TO HER AND IM SO SCARED THAT I WILL HURT HER! I DONT DESERVE HER, IWA! SHE DESERVES SOME-SOMEONE LIKE YOU! AND IT HURTS TO THINK THAT BUT I DONT CARE! A-AND WHAT IF WE GET TOGETHER?! HM?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK IT WOULD TAKE HER TILL SHE FINDS SOMEONE BETTER?! HOW MUCH CAN SHE TAKE OF GOING THROUGH EPISODES OF SOME DEPRESSED, INSECURE, PRIDEFUL ASHOLE LIKE ME?! HOW LONG DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD REALIZE HER SELF-WORTH AND KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SHITTY PERSON I AM?! I CANT-!’

iwaizumi pushed himself up from the bed and rushed to grab his best friend before forcing the brown haired boy to his chest

oikawa tooru was having a panic attack

he heaved and wheezed and loudly let out his cries and iwa made them sit on the floor where he could comfortably cry

‘youre such an idiot, tooru. but she knows that, doesn’t she? she knows who you are, what you are, how you are, your flaws, everything- she knows all that. yet she still fell for you, doesnt that tell you something? for once in your life, consider other people’s feelings before yours. y/n is one hell of a girl and i wont allow you to let her slip past you just like that. i know- we all know- how much of a broken person you are, oikawa, and it hurts us all to know that no matter what we do, we can never fix you. but y/n-gosh, y/n is the only person to even have a chance to do that. and you admitted that youre depressed and you have a problem? well,, get some help for that, oikawa. the first step to be better is by accepting the only person who can accept you for you’

iwaizumi didnt reveal to the other third years of what happened but just said that oikawa did a really terrible thing to you and hes currently repenting for it

however mattsun and makki pretended they didnt hear oikawa regretting it and focused on the fact that the captain even had the NERVE to hurt you

iwa squeezed you tightly and you returned the hug

but he whispered something in your ear

‘everyone makes mistakes, y/n. the only thing we can do is to repent for them’

you pulled away, about to ask him what hes talking about but one look from his eyes made you realize what he was talking about

he mustve known what happened but hes defending him

you clenched your jaw and looked away

‘i destroyed myself for a stupid reason and its one of my regrets. im not going to make the same mistake twice’

you quietly hissed and moved to your station by the bench to begin taking your notes

you noticed that oikawa was late for practice today and although you kinda hate him, you are still a manager first and he was one of your responsibilities

you were about to go to the coach and tell him you’d look for the setter when the gym door slid and in came the devil himself

but there was a large bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip

your feet moved quicker than the rest of you that you were in front of him in a second

‘what happened to you’

you worriedly asked and oikawa just stared at you

his eyes shook and watered at the sight of you

this was the first time you talked to him without any coldness in your tone and he missed it

he missed hearing you

his silence made you roll your eyes and you roughly grabbed his arm before throwing him on the bench you were sitting on

the team watched, on edge of whats happening, but was put back to practice when you gave them a side-eye

your fingers opened the ointment and your kit to treat the bleeding lip and the swollen side of his face

‘youre the captain. its not wise to fight before practice and be late. youre hindering everyone else’

you coldly scolded and oikawa shrank back

‘it was iwa-chan’

he mumbled and you stopped and quirked an eyebrow

‘what? why did he-’

then you froze

iwa knew

and he beat oikawa up for it

he fought his best friend for it

and iwa didnt look fazed at all

despite being a muscle freak, iwa was very soft and his iron defiency made him prone to bruising

yet why was he so clean

it was like iwa hit oikawa but in turn, the other didnt fight back

no

you must stop

youre overthinking again and youre over analyzing it and youll end up at the place you were before

however

oikawa noticed the dawn of realization on your face and he shakily reached out to touch your hand

‘i,,, didnt. because i deserved it. i-’

he sniffed and you knew he would start crying right now

the last thing he wanted would be to cry in front of the others so you immediately stood up and went to the coach

‘coach, oikawa-san needs treatment that i dont currently have with me. i would need to take him to the infirmary’

he nodded and waved you off so you had the clear

oikawa flinched when you harshly grabbed his arm and pulled him up so he could follow you out the door

it was such an awkward silence between you both but you bit your lip, focusing on the fact that you were just doing this bc he was your obligation

it was like you threw him to one of the cots then you rummaged through the medicine cabinet for an extra cotton ball and a better ointment

‘i fcked up, y/n’

your movements halted and your eyes drifted down, looking at the tiled floor

‘i messed up so bad’

he hoarsely said and you could tell how much pain he was going through by the way he let out a shaky breath

‘oika-’

you made a move to turn around but he stopped you

‘no! dont look at me! just-just dont,,, i cant-i wont be able to say it if i look at you’

he cried and you nodded

oikawa leaned his forehead on his intertwined hands with his eyes on the floor before starting

‘i want to say im sorry. because everything, all of this, it all started as a game to me’

you closed your eyes tightly, tears welling up in your eyes

‘you,,, you didnt bat a single eyelash at me. you didnt try to please me, you didnt chase after me, no, you didnt see me like that. it made me,,, i dont know,,, confused,,, that girls like you even existed. it,,, not gonna lie, ticked me off and i was offended that you brushed me away so easily like i was some,, some bug on your shoulder. so,,, i wanted to see,,, and try,,, if i could make you,,, like me. and i know! i know its messed up but god y/n i swear i didnt want to hurt you. i just,,, i wanted to see if i could ever make you look at me like the way they did but it backfired. i wanted you to chase me but in the end, i ended up chasing after you. i chased and i ran without knowing that you were slowing down for me so i could catch you. that,,, that date made me realize of how,,, how perfect and beautiful you are a-and how unworthy i am to even receive anything from you. i saw how happy you were after that, dancing, twirling that poor idiot around. at first,, it made me so so proud. and so happy that i made you do that. i put those stars from the sky into your eyes and somehow you made them shine much brighter. then,,,, i got scared. i started thinking about,,, about me. and how i am. ive been trying so hard to please other people that ive lost sight of the real me and how terrible i am. and y-you! i just- y/n its so hard for me to explain all this right now- my current mental state, the pain on my face- i cant,,, but at that moment i realized that you,,, you were better off without me. youre so kind, so beautiful, so smart, you could go do so many good things in life. and im just going to hold you back. i didnt want to hurt you so i,,, chose to just cut the string now and,, we wont get hurt later. but,,, i regret it. i regret it so much, y/n. all my life,,, everyone cooed and awed at this child just because of how he looked like and,,, he got used to it. everyone wanted me because i am oikawa tooru but they didnt want the entire oikawa tooru. iwa,,, iwa hit it into my head that,,, you,, were the only one who bothered to even see that side of me’

when he finished, he looked up but gasped at the sight of you standing in front of him

fat tears were rolling down your face and you wore the angriest expression

‘i-,,,i hate you so much, oikawa tooru’

you seethed

your eyebrows were scrunched up together and your nostrils flared as you cried harder and you let out a cry

‘i hate you, i hate you, i hate you’

you chanted and oikawa saw his vision cracking

his world was now falling apart

he did the last thing he would ever do and you were now at your most pained moment

‘youre so selfish, impulsive, and terrible’

you whined and punched his shoulder at each word

‘but i love you so much. i hate you because you made me cry and made me feel so hurt but i still love you. why-why cant you stop playing your games, tooru? stop playing with me now! stop it! stop-!’

you didnt get to say anything else because he grabbed your waist and held you in his arms

it was like you didnt even weigh a thing by the way he lifted you to sit on his lap and he gently led your face to his neck

‘im so sorry’

he repeated constantly while brushing your hair and rubbing your waist

you and oikawa tooru spent an hour sitting on that bed just crying 

after a while, you stopped and resulted to just hiccuping

‘youre selfish, tooru. you listened to yourself and did whatever you wanted rather than talking to me. i hate you but i,,, i love you, oikawa-san. i shouldnt say that but if i dont, im afraid you’ll go ahead and do something stupid again’

he chuckled but he squeezed you tighter

‘i dont,,, want to let you go, y/n-chan. let me be selfish a little longer and love you all to myself’

and by god did he become selfish

it took you a while to get over your defensive and guarded actions from him but you were slowly finding yourself forgiving him

YO IM SORRY BUT I WOULDVE DROPPED HIM LIKE PLEASE WHAT THE HECK Y/N REALLY REALLY LOVES THIS GUY

natsu absolutely despises him still and whenever oikawa even comes over, hes always glaring at him and oikawa would shift uncomfortably but accept it bc he deserved it

‘i didnt realize how badly i hurt you, y/n. i could never imagine you accepting me still. ill spend the rest of my life making it up to you’

he promised and you laughed

you were both lounging on your bedroom floor, mean girls playing in the background, while just staring at the ceiling

you brought your clasped hands up so you could look at it

then a goofy smile settled on your face and you turned to look at him

‘just continue loving me, oikawa-san. thats all i ask for’

then graduation came

of course the boys were all teary but oikawa seemed even more sad and he refused to look at you the whole day

you figured it could just be him being mopey over not seeing you everyday like he was able to before

then you both were walking home and he still hasnt looked at you

the silence was killing you but you just kept a tight grip on his hand and he would smile at you and kiss your hands

it still didnt wash away the odd feeling in your stomach but you would talk to him later after you gave him present

for the weekend, you were able to convince your parents to go on a beach trip at okinawa while you made natsu go over to tokyo and stay with katsuki

oikawa didnt know your family was out so he stood by your door, waiting for you to enter

you both stood there, staring at the floor, not knowing what to say

until you softly grabbed his hand

‘come in. i want,,, to talk’

you mumbled and oikawa’s eyes widened, silently panicking that you possibly found out

it was a secret not even iwaizumi knew so you couldnt have known

right?

you led him up to your room and pushed him down to sit on your bed

FLKDSJFLKDJ WHY AM I DOING THIS WHAT IS HAPPENING SOSOSOSOSOSOSOS

ALSO Y/N IS NOW 17 ON THIS YOU GUYS LIKE BLS SHES ONE OF THE OLDEST IN HER CLASS BC HER BIRTHDAY SITUATION SO SHES BEYOND THE AGE OF CONSENT IN JAPAN, RIGHT?

oikawa was confused and he watched you bite your lip and look off to the side

‘y/n-chan? why are you nervous? you said you wanted to talk?’

he asked

but you unzipped your skirt and let it drop on the floor

‘for graduating,,, and working hard for these years,,, im giving you this’

you finally met his eyes

then he knew

oikawa blanched and he quickly stood up and placed his hands on your shoulder

‘y-y/n! uh-i-are you sure? a-arent you-’

‘accept it, tooru. youre,,, my first love,,, so,,,, ill give you my other first’

KSDLFJSDKFJSDLK OKAY YALL LETS STOP THERE FOR NOW AND GO TO THE TIMESKIP OKAY?

OKAY

-----

oikawa was running in the airport

despite the shouts of civilians he accidentally pushed, he made no sign of stopping and if anything, ran faster till he reached outside

the rush of his sudden trip home was clear as he was only carrying a duffel bag full of clothing he hurriedly stuffed inside 

when he met the orange ninja boy in brazil, he quickly caught up with his underclassman and got drinks to talk about japan the last 2 years of his career

they both got simple beers and some appetizer to share as they reminisced the past

hinata was excitedly talking about the reconciliation of kindaichi and kageyama and how they were still enemies on court but were now friends

‘eh~? tobio-chan making up with kin-chan? what’s next? flying sushi?’

he joked and hinata laughed

‘it was partly of your manager, oikawa-san! she helped them make up!’

the previous smile on oikawa’s face slipped at the mention of you 

‘hmm,,,, she always made the impossible happen’

he mumbled and hinata nodded

‘l/n-chan became close to kageyama through kindaichi and kunimi and she would bring us food and stuff too! but only on times she wasn’t busy’

the ninja said and dipped his chip into the salsa while oikawa stared at the liquid

‘you guys must be special for her to go all the way to karasuno’

then hinata said something that caused the brunette’s ears to fall deaf to the loudness of the bar

‘it wasn’t a problem since coach ukai took care of her son’

oikawa didnt even give hinata another word when he rushed out of that bar after overcoming his shock and straight into his apartment

there were tears that blurred his vision as he shoved in shirts and pants and other necessities for a trip to japan

he argued with the front desk lady to give him a ticket to the earliest flight to japan despite her saying that it was hard to give him a seat when the plane was full

but luck seemed to pity this baby daddy as someone pulled their ticket out and he was able to take it for himself

it was the longest journey of his life and his hour long layover gave him an opportunity to call the only person he thought would even know where you were

iwaizumi

oikawa paced at the waiting lobby with his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the ringing of his call

he bit his lip in anticipation and ran his fingers through his hair for the upteenth time until finally it was picked up

‘damn you, shittykawa, do you understand what time-’

‘iwaizumi, is y/n still in japan?’

of course his best friend was startled with the question as the setter hasnt asked him any question related to you in a few years

‘wha-how the hell am i supposed to know that? im in california, oikawa’

‘dont lie to me. she still talks to you since youre probably the godfather of my son’

he hissed and iwaizumi was now fully awake and his heartbeat was beating quite quickly 

how did he figure out

‘oi, oikawa, listen to me she-’

‘please! dont!’

he shouted and didnt care if he startled anyone else around him

‘dont lie to me! of all people! you dont lie to me!’

‘why should i tell you when you were the one who up and ran? huh?’

oikawa fell silent and iwaizumi could hear his sobs through the phone

iwa sat up on his bed, leaning against the wall as he contemplated revealing this secret you begged him to keep since his best friend sounded like he was on the verge of breaking apart

poor oikawa tooru already suffered so much

‘i swear youre going to make me regret this. but y/n is in,,,, tokyo and,,,,, she,,,,,, didnt want you to know about,,,, about everything. well-she did want to tell you but she had her own reasons not to and,,, and its perfectly valid for her to choose whatever she wanted. and yes, i knew and yes, i am his godfather but please, oikawa, whatever you do, dont go to japan, you understand? shes still hurt by it, idiot, and shes angry and you sound angry and-’

but of course,

oikawa didnt listen and he hung up but continued his pacing but this time, tears blurring his vision

the taxi driver noticed his frazzled expression and quickly stopped in front of him

oikawa gratefully hopped in and quickly told the driver the address he forced out of iwaizumi (with great reluctance)

‘this is the last time, understand me, tooru? youve already hurt her so many times and i cant bear to see it all over again so you need to fix it. but you mess this up again, not only will you lose her, you’ll lose me too’

the old man felt sorry for the young lad and stepped on the pedal to get him to his destination in the quickest time 

the apartment building was several stories tall yet the elevator ride felt like a snap when he finally arrived at the floor your apartment was supposedly on

what the real kicker was when he stood outside your door and he hesitated

would you let him in?

would you even want to see him?

would you punch him?

would you cry?

he was so worried but didnt realize that he already pushed the doorbell and a faint shout from inside made his heart jump

‘UNCLE KYOOoooo,,,,,’

the door opened and the boy’s voice went quiet, knowing this wasnt the man he was expecting and he quickly and harshly slammed the door shut to his face

oikawa was stunned

was this the right apartment?

did iwaizumi trick him?

but those thoughts were wiped away when the door opened again and a girl was softly chiding the boy before turning around with a smile to greet the person but then it fell

similar to her son, she slammed the door shut and oikawa panicked

‘y-y/n? h-hey!’

he exclaimed and with a clenched fist, he stood there

you were hyperventilating inside

how did he find you?

why is he here?

does he know?

‘mama? who’s that oji?’

the bright eyes of yozora looked up at you and you blinked, briefly seeing the man behind the door at the face of your son

you sucked in a deep breath before smiling lightly

‘yoyo-kun, can you go play with dino-kun while mama and oji talk?’

yozora blinked back up at you before shrugging and nodding and running off to your shared room

once he was gone, you quickly composed yourself and opened the door again, shocked to see oikawa already half-way down the hallway to the elevator

‘would you like some tea before you go?’

you called out and he stopped, almost giving himself whiplash at how fast he turned his head

it was like his instincts took over when your voice started speaking to him

as if he was 18 again, oikawa found himself trailing after your voice and you nervously led him inside

his eyes were moving really fast as if he wanted to quickly soak it all in before it would disappear

this was where you lived

with your son

who was his son too

there was a picture by the door of you and the little boy from earlier

it was at the planetarium nearby and tooru’s heart bloomed at the sparkle in that child’s eyes

jesus, he was beautiful

‘yozora. thats his name’

you said, noticing him staring at the picture

KDFLJSDKFSD PRINCE NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM BABIESSS!!!

‘night sky’

oikawa whispered

the teapot was still hot and you were able to pour him a cup so you both sat on the dining table where he sat across from you

‘n-nice place’

he stuttered out

you nodded, tracing the rim of your own cup

‘its natsu’s and katsuki’s actually. my parents kicked me out so they offered to let me stay with them’

you reasoned, not meaning to sound cold but it came out as if you were being passive agressive

‘o-oh? ho-how is he-’

‘oikawa-san, what are you doing here?’

he visibly flinched

calling him by his last name stung since you called him ‘tooru’ the whole relationship so returning to his surname is your way of cutting off the whole thing

‘i,,, i found out. a few days ago. from shoyo. he told me their coach looked after yozora and,,, i knew he is,,, mine’

you let out a humorless chuckle

a scoff

then you looked up to meet his gaze, oikawa gulping at the hardness in your eyes

‘what makes you think so? what makes you think that i wasnt angry and spiteful enough to give myself to someone else so they could have what the great oikawa tooru had? what makes you think that i would remain loyal to you despite you just running off to the other side of the fcking world without a word? hm? oikawa-san? what.makes.you.think.so?’

out of guilt, he broke the stare to his own steaming cup of green tea

‘nothing’

you whispered

he shakingly sighed and you could tell he was about to cry

but you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms

‘go ahead and cry, oikawa-san. im used to temper tantrums. i have a son for god’s sake’

‘you would never do that to me, y/n. you promised that you would always love me and only me and i know you take promises to your grave’

he reasoned but it sounded like it was him convincing himself

the dry laugh you let out made him fidget

‘and you promised that you would always talk to me and communicate. yours is a much lighter and easier promise than mine yet you get to break it and i can’t? no, oikawa-san. to me, its like that year never even happened’

you were now just trying to rile him up due to your anger towards him

you shouldve let him walk to the elevator and leave and never come back

but you still invited him in anyways

oikawa snapped his head up

‘you cant say that or mean it, y/n. that boy over there, hes a reminder of me. he looks exactly like me so you cant ever forget what we have’

‘what he had. it was simply the past, years ago, and everything has changed since then. dont you dare try to dig up buried secrets, oikawa’

‘but why did you keep him from me?’

he pleaded, desperate for any answer as to why

‘i had every right. the moment you boarded that plane, he no longer was yours. you left, i stayed, and you cant just come back here and-’

‘mama?’

a small voice from the corner halted your loud voice and you and tooru looked at him

oikawa yozora was exactly like his father

from his loud and obnoxious personality to even the brown hair and brown eyes

KFDSLJFKDS REMEMBER THAT KID FROM OLD UKAI’S VOLLEYBALL CLUB?! THATS WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!!

he looked absolutely nothing like you and people even get confused when you say hes your son

um maam i think hes my son since he came out of me

so oikawa was right

yozora was your daily reminder of the mistakes of your youth but he was anything but that as he is the greatest thing to ever happen to you

yozora became your light when you fell into depression after oikawa ran away

sure, your parents absolutely loathed poor child as he is a child of a child

but you kept him because he means the world to you

and the world he holds are in his eyes

‘i,, i heard yelling,,, and,,, thought mama and oji were sad,,, so,,, i bring my,,, star book because,,, it makes me happy,,, and i think,,, mama and oji will,,, be happy too’

he mumbled out and you smiled at him before moving to go to him but oikawa stopped you

his eyes begged you and you glared at him, deciding to withdraw

if he decides to do anything, you could always knee him between the legs

he slowly approached yozo and kneeled down to reach eye-level

‘hello, my name is oikawa tooru’

he softly introduced himself and yozora just stared at him

‘you oikawa too? but i oikawa! mama is he me?!’

yozora shouted and you giggled, running to take him into your arms

‘oh, darling, how curious you are. oji isnt you, baby. he just,,, has the same last name as you. like mama has hers but you have,,, oji’s’

your eyes drifted to oikawa but he remained on the floor, staring at the spot where yozo stood on

you kept his last name

you listened to him from that night at the hill by naming his son after the night sky

my god, you are so,,, 

‘--the book. oji? do you?’

he was brought back to reality when your son was now back on the floor and poking his shoulder

tooru blinked and looked at him

‘huh?’

‘i ask if you want to read my book with me, oji. mama say she happy but you still sad so my book make you happy’

not even an hour of meeting him, oikawa tooru already loves him

the volleyball player nodded and yozora offered a tiny hand to which he accepted

‘this way. mama say to read so she make food. i like food, do you like food, oji? i like food. i like milk bread. mama say papa like it so i like what papa like. i want papa to come home. sit there’

tooru’s heart beat faster every word his child uttered and it even went faster when he saw yozo struggle to get up on the couch

the pair of big hands that brought him on the cushion made him happily sigh then uttered a small ‘thank you’

‘my mama say that my papa give me my book and say to take care of it until he come back. and she say he come back when im a master of space! so i study and read my book every day and know all so papa can hurry home!’

tooru didnt even notice tears falling down his face until yozo blinked up at him with his small hands grasping his cheeks to wipe it off

‘why you cry, oji? no sad! no sad! here! i read my book so you not cry’

he babbled and quickly pried the book open and read out the words on the page, not realizing he was saying most of it wrong

that book was oikawa’s

the book that he read all the time in the bus and now, it was passed on to his son

you leaned against the wall and gasped at the sight of yozo just babbling and oikawa crying

‘yoyo-kun? what did you do to tooru?’

you fussed and sat down next to oikawa

yozo worriedly looked at him and now his own eyes were watering and soon enough, you have 2 boys crying in your living room

GURL IM SORRY BUT I WOULDA KICKED OUT OIKAWA LIKE NOT EVEN OFFER HIM TEA OR ANYTHING IM SORRY IM TIRED AND IDK WHATS GOING ON

‘a-ah, y-yozo! yozo-kun! oji is,,, just,,, uh,, sad because,, because pluto isnt a planet anymore!’

yozo sniffled and he went closer to oikawa

‘me too, oji. yoyo sad too because pluto is just small. other planet are onii-chan and onee-chan but pluto is baby so they not like him’

he rambled and oikawa pulled him closer

‘mama, can we keep oji? nana-san and katsu-san will like him! promise!’

you couldnt even believe what was going on right now

not only did your baby daddy ex-boyfriend suddenly pop up, your son was now wanting to keep him

you made a move to of course deny his request but oikawa opened his mouth first

‘yozora-kun, of course you could keep me. im your papa, after all’

OKAY THAT WAS IT

YOU DID NOT WANT HIM TO SAY THAT TO YOZORA

out of shock, you slapped him across the face

causing yanno what happened

oikawa screamed

a/n: yoooooo SO LIKE THIS IS RIDICULOUS LIKE THIS IS BOOTY IM SORRY BUT THIS IS ALSO IN MY GOING TO EDIT LIST AND I CHOSE THIS OUT OF MY 10 OTHER VERSIONS OF THIS ROUTE AND I MAY OR MAY NOT RELEASE ANOTHER ONE JUST TO MAKE UP FOR IT. but try not to let this flop 🥺 👉👈

ALSO CHI THAT K+Y AND THE T+Y IS ON THE WORKS RN AND IM LIKE HALF WAY DONE SO I MIGHT RELEASE THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #aoba johsai #aoba johsai x reader #aoba josai x reader #aoba josai #seijoh #aoba johsai imagines #aoba josai imagines #seijoh imagines #seijoh manager #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!! manager #aoba johsai manager #aoba josai manager #seijoh x reader #aoba johsai headcanons #aoba josai headcanons #seijoh headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #aoba johsai fluff #aoba josai fluff #seijoh fluff

[fics-of-my-mind]

Trust - Chapter XIV.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.

I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XIV. - Oh I'm not playing any games tonight

It didn't really take me long to forget everything that happened in the bathroom. Two gin and tonics later, when Nick found me, the moment he placed his hand on my waist, guiding me towards the entrance, my mind was once again only concentrated on him, and the wetness between my legs.

Maybe Demi was right and he was going to break my heart, but I didn't care at the moment, not at all. The only thing on my mind was that this is it, we were finally going to sleep together.

After gathering our phones, we got into a black car, and started heading somewhere, I guessed that my apartment. Nick was holding onto my hand through the whole ride, but he didn't look at me, keeping his glance on the outside world. I'm sure that it was only to drive me even crazier.

I just wasn't able to calm down. My mind, my body, my whole being was constantly focused on him and nothing else. The way his fingers skinned my hand, the fact that he was extremely close, the dirty thoughts about wanting to hop onto his lap... it was all too much.

'We should talk about a few... technical things,' Nick announced unexpectedly somewhere midway.

'Now?' I asked, raising my eyebrow. I did not want to talk, not now, not so close to finally doing what I've only been dreaming about so far.

'Now,' he nodded, his handsome face strict and serious. 'The minute we are behind closed doors... I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you for a second.' I swallowed, looking at him, my insides warming just from the promise in his voice.

'What do you want to talk about?' I asked, swallowing, as Nick took one of my hands in his.

'When things get intense - not specifically tonight, but whenever,' he started, lowering his voice so the driver couldn't hear it. 'I want you to have a safe word. Have you thought about that?'

'Yes,' I nodded immediately. We've touched on the topic a few days ago, Nick just out of nowhere telling me to start thinking about a safe word that I'm comfortable using. It was surprisingly challenging. 'I did come up with a word that I think is great.'

'What is it?' Nick asked, his voice full of interest.

'Light,' I said, biting my lip. 'Your first words to me back in Barcelona were 'Do you need light?', and it's just-'

'It's perfect,' he nodded, his eyes darkening a bit. 'Whenever you don't feel comfortable with what's happening, even if it's just a slight discomfort, I want you to use that word and I stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings, no consequences, we'll just stop. Promise me that you'll use it when you need it, Milla.'

'I promise,' I nodded, looking deeply into Nick's eyes, even though I was sure I'd avoid using that word for however long I could. I just didn't want to say it, I trusted Nick that he won't do anything I'd feel uncomfortable with.

'Now the other thing,' he started, still holding my hand. 'Protection. I know that you haven't been sexually active lately, so I guess-'

'When I first saw you in the club,' I started, cutting into his words. I could feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks, and I had to turn my eyes away from him. I don't know why I felt embarrassed about this, but I did. 'I went and got a prescription. I've been on the pill for the last few weeks.'

'Oh.' Was all Nick said at first, but he raised his free hand to my cheek, making our eyes connect once again. His dark brown orbs were glistering in the semi-darkness as he looked at me. 'Why?'

'I don't know-, I guess just the idea of us being in the same city and having a bigger chance at this happening,' I started, gesturing between us with my fingers. 'I just hated the idea of if it ever comes to sex, there would still have to be a little piece of rubber keeping us apart.'

My whole face was flushed at this point, but as much as I wanted to turn my glance away, Nick wouldn't let me.

'You know I'm usually a 'no glove, no fun' guy... But honestly, it was making me feel crazy, the thought of not being able to fully feel you around me,' he said, chuckling a little. 'So I adore you for thinking ahead.'

He pulled me closer, connecting our lips, but not deepening the kiss this time.

The rest of the car ride went like a blur.

I was pretty surprised when about twenty minutes later the car stopped somewhere in Downtown LA, in front of a pretty tall apartment building.

'Where are we?' I asked Nick.

'Joe and I used to live here together. Never sold the apartment, we kept it for occasions when, for example we were too drunk to make our way home, or we needed some alone time. In the past few years we only used it for writing,' he explained before getting out of the car and holding the door open for me.

I didn't even remember the ride upstairs, all I could concentrate on was Nick's hand laced through mine. We were in public – at least public enough that a bunch of people could see us, including the doorman and a few residents – yet Nick wouldn't let me go, not even when I tried pulling away when a woman stepped into the elevator with us.

He knew I was frustrated and he was enjoying it way too much, the smirk on his face told me. Little fucker, I didn't know what his game was.

The apartment was beautiful, I found myself in complete awe. It wasn't unnecessarily big, like most A-list celeb's properties, the living area had huge floor to ceiling windows with a view to downtown LA, there was a comfortable looking white couch in the middle and also a beautiful piano, something I'm sure Nick spent a lot of time with.

Black and white dominated in the place, both in furniture and accessories. There was a huge dining table separating the living area from the kitchen, which was also beautiful, with black build-in counters. Nick didn't turn on the light, only the built-in fireplace, so the whole room was in semi-darkness. Still, it was beautiful.

Not even looking back to see if Nick was following me, I walked to the huge windows, the view taking my breath away. It was like one of those apartments that I've only seen in movies before, since in my country skyscrapers and floor to ceiling windows in apartment buildings weren't really a thing.

'So beautiful,' I said, taking in all of the lights of the city, the traffic, the moon.

'Yes, it is,' Nick replied, standing a few steps behind me. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, and something told me, he wasn't necessarily talking about the city lights.

I took a deep breath before turning around and finally facing him. Nick's eyes were darker than usual, almost black as they glistered in the semi-darkness of the room. There wasn't much light, only the moon and the lights of the city brightened somewhat the otherwise dark apartment.

Nick looked amazing, the semi-darkness giving his handsome face a rough edge, making him all mysterious. His lips were inviting as they slightly parted, and I could barely look away from them.

This was it.

The way his intense gaze imprisoned mine, it made my breath get caught in my throat. Thousands of emotions filled my heart as his darkened orbs slid to my lips for a moment, then back to my eyes. The minute of longing for each other seemed extremely long, yet equally exciting and arousing. Then, Nick got bored of just looking and finally closed the distance between us.

This kiss was not a bit gentle or innocent. Everything was in it: the months of waiting, of not crossing the line, to the freedom of us finally being able to do whatever we wanted to do with each other. The extremely deep feelings we've grown for each other, the need of touching, of owning the other, the hunger that would've eaten us if we had to wait any longer.

Nick's fingers pushed into the skin of my waist roughly, definitely leaving a mark, which just made me pull him closer by the back of his head even harder. He didn't really ask for permission with his tongue, not that he had to, he could do whatever he pleased with me. He was everywhere, his unique minty scent in my nose, his sweet taste in my mouth, his hands all around my body: on my waist, ass, thighs, hair.

Finally being this close to him, I couldn't hold myself back. It's been a long while since I've had sex in the first place, and it seemed like an eternity since I've been longing for him. My hands tried gripping onto his hair, pulling on it not a bit gently as Nick let me catch my breath and let go of my lips, yet started pampering my neck with kisses.

I couldn't hold back a moan, when he started sucking on the thin skin of my neck, just above my vein, my nails digging into his upper arm when he bit down, definitely marking me with bruises. It was all so sexy.

I was the first one to start to undress him, as I pushed the material of his jacket off his shoulders. I needed to feel Nick, I needed his skin on mine. My fingers were trembling from the desire, but I only got to unbutton two of the buttons on his shirt when he pushed my hands away. I looked at Nick with a confused expression on my face, but he didn't feel the need to say anything. He unzipped my dress without ever turning me around or even looking, his lips making their way to my shoulders which gave me massive goosebumps.

When he smoothed my dress to the ground, he pulled away a bit, eyeing my body up and down, his eyes engorging a bit as he took in my white, lacy bra and panties set. I choose this on purpose, the memory of our talk about lingerie was still vividly in my head. His eyes were full of lust, and he ran his hands from my waist to the side of my chest, his palms resting on my ribcage on both sides, while his fingers grazing the lace of the white bra.

'I'm truly intrigued,' Nick mumbled, still not turning his gaze away from my body. The feeling of being shy or embarrassed didn't find me this time, and I didn't even flinch when he pulled me closer so our lower bodies were touching and I could definitely feel his excitement against my abdomen. 'So pure. And all for me.'

I swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge of proving him that I'm not that innocent. Unexperienced, sure, but innocent? No. Nick, the Nick in his right mind knew this, but this Nick, the man of lust didn't care. He saw me as pure, which made me feel slight embarrassment and extreme happiness at the same time, I couldn't perfectly describe it.

Running a hand to his chin, I made him look into my eyes, and felt myself become even more overwhelmed by all of the things I felt and that I saw in Nick's dark orbs. This time I was the one to connect our lips, kissing him heatedly, while my fingers returned to unbuttoning his shirt and finally succeeding. When our hot skin finally touched, Nick groaned and I softly bit his lower lip. I could feel his smirk, but didn't say anything, just ran my fingers down to his chest and back, exploring every inch of him.

Suddenly it wasn't enough. I needed Nick, wanted him so hard that I've never felt anything like this in my whole life. The kiss grew much more desperate as there was even less keeping our parts from touching. Just as I slipped my fingers into the buckle of his leather belt, Nick pushed my hands away once more.

'Nick,' I moaned into his mouth. Nick just smirked, holding my wrists in one hand, while unclasping my bra with the other. He kissed down from my lips along the side of my neck to my breasts, running his tongue down between them. When his lips found my left nipple, I moaned, my body arching against him. His hand never left my right breast, playing with my nipple, pulling it, squeezing it. The tingling between my legs was getting worse, I could feel myself dripping. I needed Nick not to just play with my body, but finally touch me where I wanted him the most.

He pushed me against the huge floor to ceiling window, his lips never leaving my chest area. The cold of the glass and the hotness of our bodies made me shiver - or was it the sea of emotions making goosebumps reappear on my skin? Nick continued his journey, his lips kissing downwards from my breasts, along my stomach, as he lowered himself onto his knees.

Seeing Nick kneeling in front of me, looking up cheekily, with a very promising glance made me want to crawl out of my skin. I felt like nothing was enough, not until we were fully united, until there was nothing between us. I groaned, my hands running into his hair as Nick carefully lifted each of my legs and made me step out of the heels I didn't even remember were still on.

I felt such love for him, I almost said it out loud, even though my mind successfully stopped me. I couldn't say it, not yet anyways. There was this pride in me, wanting to hear him say it first.

When he broke our gaze and softly kissed my abdomen, I moaned quite loudly.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.

I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'

Before I had the chance to react, his fingers finally pushed against me, touching me through the panties. I knew he could feel how ready I already was for him, the smug smirk on his face spoke for itself. I felt myself go crazy, the sensations of Nick's fingers moving against my panties, creating friction. If the window wasn't pressed against my back, I'm sure that my legs would've given out. I tried to move my hips, so his fingers would press harder, but Nick's other hand found my waist and pushed my body back, keeping me in place with force. I moaned desperately. His lips lowered, avoiding the textile and founding their way to my thighs, kissing them, biting them.

I moaned his name as he lifted one of my legs, placing it on his shoulder, so he could continue his sweet torture on the sensitive inner thighs, meanwhile his fingers were still pressed lightly against my lady parts. Nick wasn't gentle, and I didn't want him to be. When he started sucking harshly on the thin skin of my thighs, marking me there, I felt myself lose my mind completely. I couldn't concentrate on anything else, but the need for him. I was squirming against him, trying to get out of his hold and pressing my body against him harder, but Nick was much stronger, as he kept me from moving around too much.

It seemed like an eternity later when he finally made his way upwards and kissed me through the lingerie, one of his hands making its way to my ass and pulling me towards his face, while the other still pushing on my waist and keeping me from moving too much. I suddenly started regretting the white underwear, Nick seemed to like it way too much, and he still wasn't taking it off of me. I desperately wanted it gone, I wanted to feel his lips directly against my clit.

He did kiss me at least. As his tongue pushed against my panties, tasting me through the lacy material, I needed to take one hand from his hair and use it to keep my stance, trying to find a grip on the glass behind me.

'So sweet,' he mumbled, not moving his head from my sensitive parts, so his words were creating vibrations, making me shiver.

'Nick, please,' I moaned, when he started sucking on my clit hardly. I was a mess, in my right mind I probably would've felt embarrassed, but now I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Nick and how much I wanted him.

'Since you asked so nicely', he said, and pulled his hand from my behind, moving the thong to the side without taking it off. His hungry lips found my clit immediately, and I'm pretty sure I screamed from the sensation. I was so close. 'So fucking ready for me already,' Nick groaned as he ran a finger along my slit, now feeling my pooling wetness directly. When he inserted a finger into me, I felt my walls clench around him, the feeling of a man touching me last time only being a faded memory for my senses. As his lips returned to my clit and his tongue started drawing circles on it, I could feel myself relax, and clearly so did Nick, since he started rhythmically moving his finger in and out. When he inserted another finger, I saw stars. All the sensations, his fingers moving in and out of me, getting me ready for him, his tongue lapping against my wetness, his lips occasionally sucking on my clit, brought me so close to the edge, that when Nick - very intentionally - curled his fingers inside me, making me feel things I've never really felt before, I exploded.

I don't think I ever had an orgasm so intense. Maybe it was all the waiting, or the fact that it was Nick, pushing me to the land of bliss, maybe just the length of time it's been since I've had any kind of sex with another man... I felt like it lasted for at least two minutes. Nick let me ride every last wave of my orgasm, never pulling away, letting me come down while lapping my juices with his tongue. When eventually he did pull away, my wetness was all evident on his face, and he never looked hotter. I carefully removed my leg from his shoulder, and pulled him up to me by the back of his hair. His hands snaked around my waist as he kissed me, making me taste myself on his lips. His tongue made its way into my mouth, dancing with mine as I ran my fingers through the back of his hair.

'You're so fucking beautiful,' he mumbled against my lips when pulling away to catch his breath. As I came to my senses, I suddenly realized that Nick was still wearing his jeans, and by the hardness pressing against my abdomen, I'm sure it couldn't be comfortable for him.

I ran a hand down to his back, feeling his muscles clench under my fingers, which made me feel hot again instantly. My other hand made his way down his chest, finding his half-undone belt and successfully finishing the job. My lips moved down along his chin, finding his neck, and running my tongue along it. I needed to use both of my hands to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, but when I finally did it, Nick sighed in relief. Without taking it off, I dipped one of my hands in his Calvin Klein boxers, and closed my fingers around his manhood.

He was rock hard and honestly I had no idea how he was still in control of everything. I felt the veins on his shaft throbbing against my palm. I needed to taste him, but as soon as I started lowering myself to the ground, Nick's strong hands caught me by the elbow and stopped me from moving.

'I want to taste you,' I whined pulling my lips from his body so I could look him in the eyes, his cock in my mouth being the main thing on my mind. I told him before how much I liked giving blowjobs, he knew well that I didn't just want to do it because I thought of it as an expectation from me.

'I know, and believe me, I really want your sweet little mouth around me too,' he nodded swallowing as he lowered his gaze to my lips. 'But I also want this to last pretty long and that's just not going to happen with you sucking my dick like a good little whore.' I looked at him for a moment, a little bit taken aback by the rawness of words. I never thought I was one for dirty talk, yet as Nick pronounced the words, they did not feel that dirty at all. They were just something that made the wetness start pooling between my legs once again. Nick waited patiently for my reaction to his words, but when I wasn't cringing or grimacing, he seemed pretty satisfied with himself. I had no idea how he had this restraint, how he wasn't going crazy yet. 'Later, I promise.'

I nodded without thinking, not really seeing a point in arguing with him on this. Instead, I connected our lips again, as Nick took his pants and underwear off, letting it fall on the floor to the pool of our clothes. However, I did not remove my hand from his hard shaft, running it along his length, until the moment he swatted it away after moaning in my mouth.

'Jump.' As much as I felt like opposing, I wasn't in the state to deny anything from Nick, so I just jumped, our naked parts finally pushing against each other, though not in the way I really-really wanted them to.

Walking into one of the bedrooms, he laid me down to the huge bed, our lips not leaving each other for a second. Nick was the only thing on my mind, just like he wanted to be. All I could think about was the heat radiating from his body, the feeling of his stubble under my fingertips, the hairs of his thigh tickling my smooth skin. The need for him stronger and stronger in my lower region. And the way he touched me so possessively, yet so gently that made my heart throb for him even more.

He lowered me onto the bed gently, then while he was kneeling on the mattress, pulled back, looking down onto me, examining every part of my body. I should've felt insecure, or awkward, yet I didn't even try to cover up my not so beautiful parts.

It was like my subconscious trusted Nick so much that it didn't see the need to feel shame at all. Like I was giving myself to him fully, completely on a whole new physical and psychological level.

Nick's dark orbs ran along my body, exploring every inch, every curve. He wasn't touching me at all, yet I felt like he was crawling inside of me. As much as I used to hate certain parts, like the lines on my sides or my way too wide thighs, even my larger than normal breasts, as Nick's eyes were glistering with lust while examining them, I instantly found myself growing a newfound liking for those parts.

I tried to read his eyes as he was towering over me, they were quite talkative. They were full of lust, need, contempt, and a few other emotions that I couldn't put my finger on.

I mirrored his actions, looking down on his body that I still found amazing. He was exactly like I've wanted my man muscular but not too much, hairy but not too much.

'Nick...' I moaned, suddenly reminded of my need for him as his eyes dropped to between my legs. Nick shook his head, like he was shaken out of trans, then he immediately leaned down above me, connecting our lips once again.

I kissed him hungrily, my hands crawling onto his shoulder muscles, pulling him as close as possible. Meanwhile he pushed one of his thighs upwards, rubbing it against my heat and making me immediately moan against his lips. He made me feel such lust and need that I've never felt before. My skin was burning everywhere we touched and every other part of me felt cold compared to it. I was going crazy, not being able to concentrate on anything else but him, his body pushed against mine, his hand on my breast, his lips sucking on the skin of my neck.

I wanted him inside of me, needed him inside of me. He was right, these past weeks made me even crazier, my longing for him got worse, all I could concentrate was the things he was doing to my body and mind.

My breath got caught in my throat as Nick rubbed his thigh against my sensitive parts even harder. I was sure that my wetness was all over him, not that he seemed to mind it at all. As I unintentionally pushed my nails into his muscular back, scratching his skin, Nick groaned, biting my neck just above my vein, making me gasp.

'Hands above your head,' he said, and the authority was evident in his voice even in his current state. As much as I hated letting go of him, I did exactly as he commanded, raising both of my hands above my head and trying to find a hold on the silk sheets.

Nick seemed satisfied as he returned to sucking onto my neck and making me moan in need for him. I could feel the smirk ok his face as he kissed down to my chest, replacing his hand on my hard nipple with his lips. As his teeth grazed the sensitive buds, I felt like I was going crazy.

I was a moaning mess by that point, and I was grateful that nobody but Nick could hear me. As his fingers pushed against my clit again, my body tensed against him and I couldn't stop my hands from finding their way into his hair again.

'Milla,' Nick groaned and pulled away from my breasts, raising his glance to mine. His eyes were clouded, darker than usual, and his expression was clearly unimpressed with my misdemeanor. 'Behave.'

'I can't, I need you,' I whined, not making any effort to remove my hands from his hair. I was hungry for him, for every touch and his now still fingers on my most sensitive part didn't really help. I instinctively ground against him, trying to create some friction to ease my need.

Nick was not happy, his expression was strict and he instantly removed his fingers from between my legs. The desperate whine got caught in my throat in the next moment at the unexpected slap on my ass - a part that he had great access to given that my leg was wrapped around his torso.

I was a bit shocked, my face turned into a frown, but as the sweet burning sensation took over the place of the painful sting, I found myself wanting more. It was turning me on - even though I didn't think that there was more place for me to be turned on. Nick carefully examined my face, waiting for my reaction, but when I reached up to him and reconnected our lips, I could feel him relax against me.

Kissing Nick was like finding myself in a completely different world, where nothing existed but the softness of his lips, his stubble grazing my face and his sweet taste on my tongue. It was easy to forget about everything else and just pulling him as close to me as possible.

I was reminded of his feelings about my disobedience with another sting on my behind, this one even harder than the previous one, making me moan into his mouth.

'Don't make me tie those hands,' he groaned, his voice raspy, full with passion. The next moment he removed my hands from his hair, and held them above my head, this time not letting them go.

'Please Nick,' I moaned, feeling his erection press against my abdomen. I physically didn't feel able to hold on much longer, every inch of my body was burning, and the need concentrated in my core.

Nobody has ever made me feel like this, such a mess, so hungry for pleasure. I really felt like I was going to explode in seconds from all of the feelings, especially if Nick kept on torturing me any longer.

'Please what?' he asked, pulling a bit back, only to be able to look into my eyes. He was enjoying this, I could tell, even if he was just as hungry for me as I was for him.

'I need you,' I moaned, not impressed with our current situation. I tensed against him, as Nick was holding my wrists strongly above my head I wasn't able to touch him. One of my legs was still wrapped around his torso though, but tightening that hold only meant that his hardness would press harder against my abdomen - so close yet so far from where I wanted him to be.

'You need me where?' he asked, and I hated that he was still able to hold onto the control. Nick was enjoying this way too much, he was making me say it out loud.

'Inside of me,' I said, squirming under him, my hard nipples pushing against his chest. 'Please- please fuck me.'

I didn't even care that I was begging to be fucked like a whore. I just needed him and I couldn't think of anything else. The only things I could concentrate was the burn between my legs, his firm hold on my wrists, his chest hairs tickling my breasts and his hard erection pushing against me.

Nick rearranged his pose, so he was keeping my wrists in their place by holding them both in one hand and pulled away with his whole body slightly. Just as I was about to complain, I felt his erection against my clit and I forgot to breathe for a moment.

I raised my head, trying to see our lower parts. Nick didn't push in yet, he was keeping his manhood pushed against my throbbing core, moving it along my slit, making my lower body instinctively squirm against him. He seemed so big against me.

I've seen Nick naked before, I knew that he was blessed with a relatively big size, but somehow it never even crossed my mind that I will need to be able to take his size inside of me. Not that I was worried at all, I was sure that I was so wet and so ready for him that it wouldn't really be a problem. Still, seeing him push against me, making me even more crazy than before, I was just a tiny bit afraid of the pain.

'Eyes on me, Kamilla,' he ordered and I dropped my head back on the mattress, reconnecting our glances. By that point my body was squirming constantly and I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. 'I want to see you when I take you.'

It was so incredibly hot, his raspy voice, the way he was still in control of not just himself but me too. His eyes were cloudy, and it took a moment for me to recognize the emotion in them: primal thirst. Even though it wasn't possible, I wanted him even more.

'Nick–' I started when he still wouldn't quit teasing, but then a loud moan slipped out of my mouth the moment I felt the stretch as he finally pushed in. I wanted to close my eyes, just until I adjusted, but his gaze held mine captive as he pulled out, then pushed back in again, much deeper this time. My lips parted as my body tensed at the long-felt feeling.

It was like my body didn't know what to feel, so I felt everything at once. The stretching feeling was quite uncomfortable given that it's been a long while since I've had sex, and thanks to Nick's massive size, I'd say that it was even painful at first. At the same time every inch of my body was on fire, I was hungry for him and I wanted him even deeper. I was so close to coming, but still so far, it didn't make sense at all.

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from wincing as Nick pulled out for the second time, only to fill me up completely a second later. An animalistic groan escaped him, I imagine everything must've been so tight for him. Even though he was waiting for this for months now, and he was just as gone, wanting to come as I was, he stayed completely still.

'Shhh,' he hushed when he felt my body tense against him and placed his free hand onto my waist, drawing small circles on my skin. He leaned his forehead against mine, still looking so deeply into my eyes that I felt like he could see into my soul. 'Are you okay?' he asked, sincerely, and I was sure that if I told him 'no', he'd pull out and wouldn't blame me for a moment, even if it physically pained him.

'Move,' I asked quietly, because even though I was in some pain, the lust for him was much bigger. Nick kept my gaze for a few moments longer, his fingers never stopping their calming movement on my hip. I pulled him closer with my leg still wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to move. He closed the distance between us, connecting our lips and only when I kissed him back hungrily did he start moving.

The first few thrusts were quite painful, but as I grew accustomed to his size stretching me so deeply, the ache for him was back. When his fingers slipped down to my clit from my waist, I couldn't even remember the pain anymore. He knew exactly what he was doing, I was so close to coming that I had to hold myself back.

'Stop doing that.' Of course, he noticed, and that's when I remembered tonight's rule: to come as many times as possible. 'Let go,' he commanded and with the next, particularly deep thrust and his fingers still circling with my clit, I was gone.

I exploded against him, and I could feel my walls pulsing around his manhood, making Nick groan and drop his head to the crook of my neck. I saw stars, I was coming so hard that I even forgot to breathe. Nick never slowed down, he kept his rhythm and let me ride my orgasm out completely, while he – not so softly – bit the side of my shoulder.

'Fuck,' I moaned at the sharp pain, but Nick was way past the state to care. He was marking me as his, and even though I was sure I'd have some difficulties in the next few days to cover up all the marks, they were a huge turn on for me.

The next moment Nick pulled out of me, only to turn me slightly on my side and reenter me again, making me scream at the sensation. He felt even bigger this way, stretching me all the way.

'So fucking deep,' he groaned, one of his hands still holding my wrists in their place, while the other pushing into my thigh to keep me in the pose he wanted. He was close, I could tell. Sweat was beading on his forehead, he was getting a bit sloppy. All that could be heard in the room were my moans, his animalistic groans and our skins slapping against each other.

He took a hard rhythm, not soft at all and he wasn't slowing down. I was whimpering, my lady parts still sensitive from my orgasm, but Nick's rhythmical thrusts made me want even more. Somehow I managed to free my hand, but the moment I touched his upper arm, I was greeted with a sharp sting of his palm against my ass.

The feeling was even more intense with him inside of me, and Nick must've noticed my walls contracting around his shaft as well. He didn't try to get my hand back into its place, rather he spanked me a few more times, getting me close to coming again.

'Nick, I–' I moaned, turning my face so I could kiss him again. He felt it too.

'With me,' he groaned and with the last of his stamina, he sped his thrusts up even more, sending me over the edge a third time that night and following me a moment later with a deep grunt.

I felt him twitching and then filling me up with his everything, which was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome sensation. With a last thrust Nick collapsed above me, laying his weight on my body completely.

I felt owned. I shouldn't have enjoyed it, I shouldn't have felt good about being marked, about Nick coming inside of me. In my life, I've always been an independent woman, but with him everything was different. The bite marks on my neck, the hickeys on my chest, the palm prints on my ass, the semen running down my legs... It all should've repulsed me, yet they just made me want Nick even more.

It took him a few minutes to gather himself and pull out of me, leaving me feeling empty. He didn't go far though, only to get a cloth and clean us both up a little. Then he laid back beside me and pulled me onto his chest.

'I get it now,' I mumbled against his chest as he ran a hand through my hair.

'Get what, Dear?' he asked quietly. I turned my head to be able to look at his face.

'This is what it's supposed to feel like,' I explained, referring back to one of our old conversations when Nick said that I clearly have never had great sex or I'd know what I'm missing.

'Actually, no,' he shook his head softly. 'This isn't what it's supposed to feel like.'

'What do you mean?' I frowned.

'This was... I never felt anything like this,' Nick admitted. I looked at him for a long moment, then leaned closer in order to connect our lips. So it wasn't just me. 'I don't know what this was, but you and me...' he left the end of the sentence hanging. I could finish it in my head just fine.

...were made for each other.

#Nick Jonas #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick jonas imagine #nick x reader #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction

[professional-bts-simp]

Moonlight

Vampire!Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: The full moon was always your boyfriend’s favourite time of night and you knew damn well why

Genre: Supernatural, smut, pwp (maybe a little plot), fluff?

Warnings: oral (M receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, blood, blood play, blood drinking, daddy and babygirl kink  

A/N: Based on this picture

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

You wake up to the sweet moonlight seeping through your window, it was a full moon tonight and you usual loved it, but at this moment you didn’t like it very much. Groaning at it you cover your head with the blanket and turn around hitting a soft lump whilst doing so. The lump moves around a bit and strong arms hug your waist, pulling you closer to the strong chest you knew too well. Wet lips kiss your neck gently, going from your jaw to your neck to your collarbones.

You mumble something incoherent hearing a deep chuckle follow after it. You could feel the tip of a nose on your ear and hot breath breathed down on it.

“What was that, (y/n)?” Your boyfriend, Namjoon, asks.

You know he’s teasing you since he can, quite literally, read your mind. You see your boyfriend isn’t like any other boyfriend out there, sure he’s sweet and caring and loves you so freaking much, but he’s also a vampire. And no this isn’t some story where you found out and were shocked with the fact he was a supernatural creature, quite the opposite actually. You knew he was a vampire way before you even met him in real life.

Namjoon is an idol. Along with the rest of his members. They make up a group called BTS, and like your Joon the other six members are also vampires. You’ve been a fan of theirs ever since you came across them on YouTube, which was four years ago. You meet Namjoon two years ago at a fansign, after the fansign he asked you to hang out and a little magic afterwards and you’re dating one of the biggest idols on the planet. You were kept a secret for a while, but Namjoon managed to pursue his managers to reveal you to the public.

“Answer me, (y/n).” Fuck, his morning voice. You tried to convince him to produce with his morning voice, yet he always refused saying how his morning voice is for your ears only, which was very sweet but you know the song would be a bop.

“Stop waking me up.” You whine silently, still trying to get some sleep in.

You heard his chuckle again and felt lips on your cheek.

“But I like waking you up,” he gave you another kiss, “I like your little whines and cute morning voice.”

“It’s midnight, asshole.”

“Okay, then your cute midnight voice, better?”

You groaned as you turned around and cuddled up to him. “No, because you still woke me up at midnight.”

Namjoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder, running his fingers up and down your naked arm. This always caused goosebumps to appear on your skin but you liked the feeling of his fingers.

“But baby it’s the full moon.” Namjoon’s deep voice whispered seductively in your ear. You squirmed a bit, you knew damn well what full moon meant. For vampires every full moon means their usual urges and senses are heightened, they call it the mating season whereas you call it the horny season. Every month you’ve been hit on by different vampires who only wanted to get their hands in your pants and fangs in your neck.

Now that you started dating Namjoon he becomes very protective and possessive of you, especially when you two go out, which usually results with you two staying at home and ordering take-out.

“And so what if it is the full moon?” You teased. It wasn’t hard guessing what he wanted, needed, but you weren’t going to let him get it without a little struggle. Namjoon grumbled and suddenly he was gone, you looked around to see where he was. “Namjoon? Babe?”

He propped his head from underneath the blanket, his red eyes watching yours intensely. Wait, red eyes. Not his sweet, slightly glowing brown eyes, but blood red ones. Guilt somewhat overcame your chest, if his eyes were red already that must’ve mean he was holding back for a while now. You pressed a hand on his cheek, Namjoon instantly sinking into your touch as you guided his face closer to yours, kissing him deeply.

He responded immediately, kissing you back hungrily, hooking his fingers in your hair. You pulled away, much to his displeasure, and gave him a wide smile. You looked into his eyes, “Fuck me, daddy.” Your boyfriends gaze widened as his orbs dilated at your boldness, but he soon turned into the same cocky man he does when you two are making love.

“You want daddy, babygirl? You want daddy to fuck you? You need to be filled by daddy don't you?” He was the one teasing now, but you knew you kinda deserved it, yet you decided to play along.

“Yes daddy, please. Fuck me hard. Fill me up.” You were inching closer to him, throwing your legs across his lap, slowly grinding into it. He placed his hands on your hips, although instead of guiding you in your grinding he stopped and tossed you on your tummy, earning a low whine from you.

“Not yet baby, first you need to do something for daddy.”

You whined again, lifting your ass in the air for any kind of friction or touch from your boyfriend. You felt his crotch and hard erection right on your butt cheek, his breath ghosting over your neck, his fangs brushing over the sensitive skin making you feel things your family would probably not approve of. His lips climbed up your neck to your ear where he pulled on it with his teeth before he whispered in it, "Keep on whining babygirl and daddy will have to punish you for it."

You slumped back on the bed as you waited for Namjoon's next turn. You heard his feet shuffling on the floor and in an instant you were turned on your back, looking into his captivating red eyes as his hands roamed your body freely. You followed his hands as they left your body and slowly took of his boxers, revealing his thick, long member. He gave himself a few strokes before calling you over with his finger.

"Come here and suck daddy off baby."

You quickly went down on your knees, inching closer to his cock and taking it in your soft hands pumping him before gently taking him into your mouth. Namjoon caressed your hair absently guiding your head further down his dick. You tried your best to swallow him whole but he was just so big, you tried not to choke on him so you relaxed your throat as best as you could and kept going down using your hand to pump the rest of his length.

You bobbed your head on his member, stopping at the top to swirl your tongue on its head earning low growl-like moan from your boyfriend.

"Keep doing that babygirl," he took in a sharp breath as you started bobbing your head again, "you're making daddy so proud."

His other hand found its way into your hair as Namjoon threw his head back from the pleasure he was receiving. He started to slowly move his hips, fucking your mouth delicately and hitting the back of your throat which brought tears to your eyes. "Ahh..damn baby if you keep going like this," he swallowed hard, "I-I won't be able to last long."

You put your palms against his thighs, moving away from his throbbing erection you looked him in the eyes before saying, "then fuck me right now."

He didn't waste any time in picking you up and showing you onto the bed, crawling on top of you like a hungry animal. He licked your neck teasingly knowing it was the most sensitive part of your body. Excitement filled your system as you yet again felt his prickly fangs, you moaned at the feeling of them, awaiting the high that came with a vampires bite and when it was the full moon the endorphins were also heightened.

"Moaning at the feeling of my fangs huh baby?" You moaned back in agreement which made your boyfriend chuckle. His face was soon back at your neck and it wasn't long until you felt the familiar feeling of his fangs penetrating your skin, both of you sighing in bliss. Namjoon was gone far too fast for your liking, but once you saw that his finger was red, your blood almost dripping from it you gave him a confused look.

"Take your clothes off babygirl. I want to see you in all of your glory."

You did as you were told, stripping out of your pyjamas then laying back down on the bed. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Babygirl," his voice was so deep and husky it made your core ache, "I said in all of your glory." You swallowed a small lump in your throat as you slipped out of your bra and panties, casually throwing them aside. Namjoon grabbed your panties and teasingly showed them to you.

"Look at how dripping you already are, making a mess in your panties." He threw them on the floor and brought his bloodied finger on your stomach, drawing a line with it. Namjoon brought his face down in your stomach and licked the blood clean. You didn't know why but his actions turned you on even more, you were feeling yourself dripping down on the sheets.

"Daddy please, I can't wait anymore," you squirmed in your position trying to get closer to him. You felt his big hand in your inner thigh caressing it lovingly, you'd whimper whenever you felt his fingers close to your core.

"You really need me that bad, princess?" You nodded whilst biting your lip, "Alright, then daddy will give it to you."

Namjoon positioned himself and in one swift moment he was in, both of you sighing at finally getting what you desired. His thrust were slow and gentle at first and you could tell he was holding himself back to not hurt you, however the words you said to him changed his actions.

"Faster daddy, I want it harder."

And it was like something snapped in his mind because he started going faster and harder, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could go deeper. "Ahh fuck! R-right there Joon!" You screamed once his cock hit your G-spot.

"Mmm babygirl, you feel s-so good, so...tight. Ohhm." Sweat was evident on both your bodies, moans getting more frequent with his every thrust.

"D-damn I'm gonna cum, ahh...fuck."

"Mmm ohh, me too daddy."

In just a few more thrust you and Namjoon were cumming, your walls tightening around him as his white warm cum filled you up. Namjoon gave a couple of more thrust to help you ride your highs out. He laid next to you, making you turn to him with a big smile, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

"That was...amazing." He gave his famous dimple smile. You cuddled into his chest, "It really was."

He was petting your hair making you sleepy again. He whispered to you, "Aren't we going to clean this up?"

You dismissed his words by cuddling closer to him and saying, "That's morning Namjoon and (y/n)'s problems." You boyfriend gave a low chuckle agreeing with you. Kissing your head you both went back to sleep.

#kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #x reader #vampire au #bts vampire #bts #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts vampire au #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #vampire bts x reader #vampire #bts smut #smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon smut #rm smut #fluff #bts fluff #namjoon fuff #kim namjoon fluff #imagine #bts imagine #smut imagine #fluff imagine #fanfic #bts fanfic

[brookeap3]

Rocking the Coach

A/N: For Wednesday of #InspiredByOQ for the lovely, @outlawqueenbey. This is inspired by her OQ Carriage Sex doodle for Inspired By OQ week.

Regina can't quite resist Robin of Locksley once confined in such close quarters.

{ ffn } { ao3 }

-:-

She’s lost her mind. Clearly.

Maybe it’s the thrill of danger, the uncertainty of what under handed curveball fate is about to lead them into. Perhaps it’s merely because she misses him so desperately, is still grieving the loss of her soulmate in the very depths of her bones and she is willing to take any part of him she can get. Illusion or not.

Because Robin of Locksley is anything but the thief who had unwittingly stolen her heart all those moons ago, merely a pale imitation of the man who had loved her so thoroughly and completely that Regina is certain she shall never experience anything like it again. But that hadn’t stopped the attraction between them. For Robin of Locksley looks like her Robin, smells of the same pine and dirt that her Robin had, possesses the same dimpled smirk that had made her heart flutter at the sight of.

There’s not much she can do about her physical reaction to him, and she misses him so much that she’s willing to be a bit reckless with her feelings, or her body at the very least, it seems. It’s not as if her heart can break any more than it already has.

They’d been trapped in such close quarters within that wagon, nearly on top of each other, and Regina’s breath had caught in her throat as Robin’s knee had brushed against her thigh, her arm bumping against his as she’d shifted uncomfortably, giving each of them pause as they’d stared at each other. Her heart had hammered in her chest, thundering so loudly that the whole world had faded away beyond the arresting blue of his eyes, drawing her in closer and closer until their mouths had met.

It doesn’t feel the same. Kissing him. There’s no instantaneous spark of heat skitting across her skin until every nerve ending ignites as it had whenever her own Robin had pressed his lips to hers, but it’s pleasant all the same. Locksley had plenty of finesse as he angled his mouth over hers, deepening the hesitant kiss into something more, something with a bit more heat as flames of desire begin to burn between them.

Now is not the time, nor the place for this interaction, but Regina can’t quite bring herself to give a damn. That’s how she finds herself here, straddling this man who (despite his resemblance to her soulmate) is essentially a stranger, and she doesn’t care one iota. Not when his fingers dig into her hips as she rocks against his growing erection, as his lips trail a wet line of kisses over her throat, up the side of her neck until he’s swirling his tongue along the exact spot that always has her letting out a moan of delight, finding it as effortlessly and precisely as Robin had.

Her hands roam over his form, up his arms and the rippling muscles of his shoulders, into his hair as Regina drags his mouth back to her own, nipping at his bottom lip and dragging it between her teeth, eliciting a grunt from Locksley as his hips buck against her own. She’s already wet, can feel the slick slide of her arousal as she grinds against him, and, lord help her, but she wants him inside her. Needs it. Desperately. It’s been too long since she’s been touched, and her heart is so battered at the moment that any bit of Robin she can get she will take.

They haven’t spoken. Not since before that initial kiss. Not about what this means, or what exactly it is they’re doing and Regina is grateful to him for not raising any queries or concerns, for going along and living in the moment. She doesn’t have the answers and where Robin would have questioned what this meant, Locksley seems perfectly content to go with the flow.

Sneaking her hands between their bodies, Regina begins to make quick work of the fastenings of Robin’s cloak, pushing it back off his shoulders until it merely drapes by the hooks at his neck and drawing at the strings of his tunic until they all open to reveal a tempting amount of skin, dusted with a smattering of dark hair that has lust curling in her belly.

Their eyes meet then and his are nearly black, reflecting the desire she knows is in her own. “See something you like, milady?” Those first words uttered since this whole thing began and the traces of humor in his teasing tone accompanied by the smirk on his face makes her roll her eyes, but she doesn’t deny it. Instead, Regina trails a finger gingerly down the center of his chest, scratching her nails over his heated skin and then grins mischievously as she skims her other hand up his abdomen before giving the material a fierce tug, effectively ripping it right down the middle.

Locksley chuckles darkly as he glances down at the tattered remains of his shirt and shrugs out of the now useless sleeves. “I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he murmurs, one hand lifting to weave it’s way through her short, dark locks and pull her mouth back down to his.

They make quick work of their clothes after that. It’s not exactly like this is the prime location for these sorts of activities and their captors could be back at any moment, but somehow the uncertainty of it all adds a thrill to the whole exchange. As Robin struggles to get her slacks down over her hips and loath to move from her position on top of him, Regina moves her hand with a flourish of purple smoke to leave her in nothing but her bra and boots, Robin’s own trousers rucked down around his ankles.

The groan he lets out at the feel of her wet heat sliding against him has satisfaction rising up within Regina as she wraps her arms around his neck, leaning forward to kiss him again as they rock against one another for a few minutes. Time is of the essence though and it isn’t long before Robin moves his hands from where they’d been gripping her ass, kneading the swells in a way that has heat flaring through her body, to angle his cock against her entrance.

He waits though, merely stroking the tip against her swollen flesh as he looks up at her, waiting for permission it seems and it reminds her of Robin, the way he’d looked at her that first time they’d joined together physically, so much so that she has to close her eyes against the sudden well of tears that tries to break free. She fuses her lips to Locksley’s in a searing kiss and finishes the job herself.

There’s a deep pang in her chest as he slides inside her, a gnawing just beneath her breast as an overwhelming sensation of loss settles over her. Because she misses her Robin, the man she’s so hopelessly in love with not even being intimate with his doppleganger can staunch the ache in her heart at his loss. Because despite the similarities between them, they are not the same and as much as she would love to believe differently, her own love is gone.

But she will not let that ruin this, throws herself into the moment and spears her hips up and down over his cock, relishing instead in the delectable way he stretches her, the burning friction as he slides wetly in and out of her over and over again as she fucks him. This can be enough, for now. Has to be really, there’s nothing she can do about it.

And it feels good, really good, the elemental rhythm as basic as breathing as they move together. Locksley’s hands are gripped at her hips again, fingers digging into her skin as he helps her move over him, one hand slipping up to cup her breast, tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Mmmmm,” Regina groans, tossing her head back and exposing her neck to his lips as they grind together.

“You feel so bloody fantastic, milady. Wet and hot and tight.” His voice is gravely, deep and sexy in her ear as he sucks at her skin, driving her wild and closer and closer to that edge. And he keeps it up, whispering dirty things in her ear as his mouth roams over her skin. How much he wants her, how she’s driving him wild, the vision she makes riding him this way.

All of it builds inside her until she’s a geyser ready to explode, driving her closer to the edge with every seedy murmur. Her fingers grip tightly at the hair at the nape of his neck, her other hand gripping his shoulder, nails dragging over his flesh and leaving angry red streaks in their wake as she gives herself over to the sensations swamping her.

It’s freeing. This reckless love making. More than she’s allowed herself in so very long.

Locksley drags his teeth over her chin, capturing her bottom lip between them and then swirling over the bite with her tongue. Combined with the feeling of his cock moving in and out of her it only takes another half a dozen strokes to have her clenching tightly around him, spasming as she comes, his own release following a minute later with a guttural groan.

For a few minutes they simply breath heavily, Regina’s forehead dropping into the crook of his neck as she draws air shakily in and out of her heaving lungs. His hands skim up and down her spine, and briefly nuzzles his nose into her hair, a tiny bubble of swathed intimacy that surprises both of them.

Eventually, his throaty voice sounds between them, “Well… I certainly wasn’t anticipating that when I awoke this morning.”

Laughter bubbles out of her, deep in her chest as her shoulders shake, taking in this unexpected turn of events fully for the first time since this interlude began. Her voice is amused, almost playful as she replies, “Nor I, thief.”

But the time for play is over and as they stare at each other for a few seconds, reality settles over them once more.

With another flick of her wrist their clothes are returned to proper order, though it doesn’t hide the flush to her cheeks, nor the gleam in Locksley’s eyes as he grins at her. “So,” Regina begins, “how exactly are we going to get ourselves out of this?”

#brookeap3 writing #InspiredByOQ #oq ff #oq fan fiction #oq fan fics #oq fanfic #outlaw queen #oq #regina and robin #robin and regina #Regina Mills #robin of locksley

[accio-firewhiskey]

Penance Series: From Here to There (formerly Blandishments)

Summary: Belle continues to make hats with Jefferson. Penance Series. Teen!Belle. Age 13-14. References and quotes from Goblin Market.

--

Her visits he cannot call (cannot call at’all—Regina fails to pay the bill) frequent, but they do occur, at least. Often-even: last summer and fall, the weather agreeable for much longer than usual, but with the first snowfall, the weather was against their seamstressing. She could not cross his threshold, could not drink his tea. The imp no longer accompanied his ward, whenever she knocked upon Hatter’s door, but that did not ease his fear—far or near, Rumpelstiltskin was always, always, always to be feared.

There is still snow on the ground when she knocks in late January. “Isn’t this a surprise,” he says, leaning against the doorframe, with a smirk. He lies, because he spied her walking this way, despite the sludge on the curbs, piled there from trucks and dirtied with mud and salt. She’d slipped from the house, Rumpelstiltskin out to lurk about the town, thinking her safe and warm and reading by his fireplace. Instead, she’s here, wrapped up in a coat and boots, sewing kit pocketed. Her needles are leather and upholstery needles, so quite sharp. She pricked herself more times than he can count on both their hands, drawing enough blood for curses a-plenty, but Jefferson had burned the tissues and made no mention when his warden came ‘round.

 He had his own use for her, after all.

 “Hi,” she answers, eyes and smile bright, eager little thing. She’s not so slight anymore, jutting up, a growth spurt since last she stood on his porch. She holds up her kit, small and perfect—like her. Like his Grace. “I thought we could practice.”

 He shivers not, but feels the cold without his coat, pouring past him into the house. He does not move, but chuckles, “Wool and snow do not mix.”

 She frowns, “What?”

 Drawing the door shut behind him, he saunters around to the back veranda, where the iron-rod table and chairs still bear a layer of snow and ice, “I think we’re out of luck today, Jingle.”  

 She places her be-mittened hands on the wrought-iron chair, and toys the foot of her boot in the snow, “We could go inside?”

 Jefferson smirks, “What a naughty trick to play.” Brushing his hand across the table, he swats a handful of half-melted snow at the little nuisance. “Now you know we can’t do that—your guardian would lose his head and so would I,” he tells her, tilting his face this way and that (the irony of the statement is lost on the child). She doesn’t answer, and he can see that she’s building a snowball. He rolls his eyes at this game of theirs, but magic was in short supply, with Regina dipping into her stores once every few years. This jingle bell would have to do. “Why would you want to get me in trouble with your Mr. Gold?”

 She packs the snowball between her hands, tight and icy—it would hurt if she knew how to aim (he thinks that’s not the only weapon she could wield). “He doesn’t have to know?” she poses the statement as a question.

 Grasping her wrist just as she brought it back to lob the snowball at him, he crumbles it over her head, as she giggles, “That’s not how this works.”

 “Hey!” she squeals, brushing the snow from her hat and hair.

 Bending down on his haunches so they are face to face, he admits, “You’re not ready.”

 “Ready for what?”

 “To go inside.”

 “Why not?” she asks impertinent.

 “Because the day we make hats inside is the day you never come back.”

 She blinks at him, and as she mulls over the words her smile droops and then falls (she dwindled, he thinks to himself, dwindled, as the fair full moon—they weren’t ready yet for the swift decay and burn. Her fire wasn’t ready yet).

 The moments holds: she must not cross his threshold, must not drink his tea, but then Jefferson winks and stands and tosses more snow in her direction, “Come back when it’s dry. We’ll work on bowler hats.”

 --

 She comes back a month later. She comes back but waits just long enough that Jefferson begins to worry he did indeed scare her. Her hats improve, despite the bite in the February air, despite their iced fingers (her repartee too, is biting and improved, he hates that he looks forward to these visits, because magic is cruel and he only wants her magic).

 “Why don’t you go outside,” she asks, mid-stitch.

 “We are outside,” he replies in a mumble, his mouth full of straight pins.

 Belle rolls her eyes, “Not your yard, but, you know, outside, into the city.”

 He scoffs, “Generous.”

 “What?”

 “It’s hardly a town—Storybrooke is a play thing, little and trite, what’s to see out there anyway—Storybrooke is for the dolls?”

 Her face takes on a strange expression at the mention of dolls (and he knows she sneaks around to play with her dollies when Rumpelstiltskin is away), “Don’t you get lonely all by yourself?”

 “Nosy, nosy, nosy, Jingle!” he says, tapping her own button nose, “Didn’t your owner teach you that nosy girls lose their noses, fingers and all ten toes?”

 She frowns at him, huffing, “He’s not my owner.”

 Tilting his head, taking the final pin from his mouth and depositing it into the half-a-hat in his hands, he asks, “Then what is he?”

  His loud, ringing, annoying, endearing little bell takes her time to answer him, but finally shrugs, “He just isn’t.”

 --

 She takes longer to return again and looks quite worn down. Her only words of explanation: “School.”

 “Ah, I see.” He doesn’t see. He never had tutors in the old world. Grace never had tutors in the old world. Though his apprenticeship had worn him ragged—but he wore raggedy so well. Perhaps that’s why he’d never stopped.

 That and the poverty.

 They finish three hats—just hats, for a hat without magic is just another hat—and the final one tips over, as she hops from the chair to stand. They were done for the day, and she was gathering up her things, but Jefferson, setting the hat upside down, on a whim he offhandedly orders: “You should give it a spin.”

 Belle looked up, a question between her brow.

 He threw his head toward the hat, “Come on, like this,” he shows her the move. “It’s all in the wrist.”

 The hat does nothing but spin—has done nothing but spin for fourteen years and more for Jefferson, but maybe, just maybe (it was so hard, not speaking to her of magic—not even a whisper—and he had crossed his heart he wouldn’t, but there would come a time, when his heart would break and free him from his promises, promises).

 Staring up at him, mouth agape, the child spins the cap.

 Nothing.

 It wobbles and topples over, “Like that?”

 He sighs, “No, not like that.”

 --

 Next time, they decide to make use of the greenhouse. Yes, Regina gave him a greenhouse to hold all the dead things he can’t make grow. He can make hats without magic and vegetables without life. How splendid. How talented.

 She runs through the space a little wild, bouncing like a rabbit, huffing like a caterpillar. He leans against the doorway, wondering at the wisdom of this exercise. She’d asked again to see the inside of his house. He should call Gold, make him keep her in line. This didn’t fit with his timeline (and he had never been a patient man). She was curious about these strange rules and this strange man who made hats and odd quips.

 “Quips” she called them, she got it from her caregiver’s vocabulary. So strange listening to the Dark One’s wit from the mouth of a child—she’s innocent, yes, but she could be oh, so wicked someday.  

 She twirls about, in cap and gown, and the hatter, has to blink (as he tries to chip away at his impervious chains—clink—clink—clink).

She looks like his Grace, dancing through outdoor rooms and space, and worlds…

Jefferson shakes his head, and snatching the top hat off the child, mid-spin, he throws a thumb to the door, “That’s enough haberdashery for one day.” Too stuffy in the greenhouse anyway, in the May-day heat.

 --

 Jefferson hates summertime and summertime hates Jefferson. His neck sweats from the scarves, and the scar tissue breaks out from the sweat. The heat prickles under his heavy garments. He is a mess, inside and out, stir crazy from not stirring out of doors. His mind stirs with possibilities and limitations, and he watches.

 He watches everything, for there is so much to watch.

 He spots them, Jingle Belle and Grace. They play in the park. They walk to the beach. They talk with dwarves and avoid Paige’s parents. Each time, he drops the telescope and stalks away, to bang his head against a wall.

 He does not stop watching. They flit from here to there and everywhere in between (but nowhere near him—never near him). Asking the Jingle Belle to bring his Grace from there to here would be too much, too much a request.

 When next she calls, his hands twitch with the desire to ask her every single question about his Grace, but he restrains himself. He does not even let her practice their craft: “Today’s not good, Jingle. Today’s no good at all.” Wraps his free hand around his torso. He would wrap the other around himself when she left.

 She looks sad but swipes away the sweat from her forehead from running all the way from Rumpelstiltskin’s castle to play haberdashers with her strange friend without arguing over his dismissal. He wonders if Grace can sew. He wonders where she’s run to since he’d left his post to answer the loud, annoying little doorbell.

 Closing the door he thinks to himself that summertime hates Jefferson, because he’s the only one that can see that summertime means nothing when the year repeats itself over and over and over and over.

 (He wraps his arms around himself and rocks over and over and over).  

 --

 Regina has tried his nerves. Life has tried his nerves. Queens and cards and hat boxes and telephone receivers have all tried his nerves. The air conditioning unit has broken, and it is so very hot inside and out that even the telescope glass has fogged. What’s more, even to begin with, he had so little nerve to try.

 Then the doorbell rang.

 He knows it’s her, blue jay, bluebonnet, bluebell, blue and cool and so very, very trying. He opens the door only a crack, “Today’s no good, Jingle.” Not when he’s stressing his seams, and all his filling feels fit to burst.

 She frowns, Gold’s little bird, Gold’s little flower. She’s in bloom, his darling dear danger. “You said that last time,” she pouts. He thinks her nearly about to stamp a foot, but she stops just short.

 (But not so short, because she grows here. He’s seen a wall in Granny’s marked with the heights of her and wolf girl. Blue’s steadily inches up the door frame, while Red’s jumps, once a year—all her inches coming from the queen’s drop of loose magic. It’s lazy and sloppy and he knows that Jingle notices the sputtering spurts. She’s no fool. She’s a jack or an ace, some day perhaps even a queen in her own right).

 Today she’s a child and has a child’s temper. He can smell her sweaty hair and the scent of freshly mown grass clippings, in that way of all children in summertime. Even his Grace, surely. Wilted lilacs sit behind her ear, and it does not match, the violet color, with her indigo eyes, but the terror does not turn away. She stares, this mismatched picture, crossing her arms over her chest, and argues with him, “Please. I’m bored.”

 Bored, she says; she’s no idea what true boredom meant, “No.”

 “Jefferson,” Belle whines. “Just this once,” an idea strikes her, “I didn’t see you around my birthday—this could be my birthday present!”

 His eyes narrow: “You have grown.”

 “You don’t look any older,” she replies, squinting with her child’s honesty.

 “Oh, but I am,” he leans closer, “older than you can possibly imagine.”  

 She laughs, for no reason, and he laughs too. Hearing it in his own ears, it is a feral sound. Strangely, he begins to wonder why he denied her. What was the harm, laughing with Gold’s pet? What was the harm, pulling out his needles and fabric scissors? “Well, maybe,” he begins.

 She claps her hands together, and turns to the backyard, but Jefferson stares down at her, noticing her cheeks, little globes, fair and red. She is overheated; they could not, should not sit out in the sun, nor would the greenhouse do, for it was sure to be ten degrees warmer. Perhaps, if they opened every window, some doors even, that would be enough. They could let some breeze into the house, and if the wind blew, where they really inside at all?

 They could let themselves into the house, surely they could. Stepping back, he pushes the door open fully, and waves an arm, “Hey, Jingle.”

 She turns, eyes widening, realizing what he’s offering as her gift, “Really?”

 “Well, this is supposed to be a present, after all.”

 --

 They hear something else fall in a different room. She looks up from her hat, the ribbons blowing in the wind from the window. “Are you sure we should have all these windows open?” Mr. Gold hated when she left a window open anywhere near the study and his papers and files blew off the desk. “There’s gonna be a lot to clean up.”

 He waves his hand wildly at her, “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just keep sewing.”

 Her hands stop. Jefferson was acting weird. For a minute, she wonders if this was a bad idea. She hadn’t told Mr. Gold she was going over to work on hats. It was just an idea, after Ruby had to go help Granny in the diner. She was bored. Mr. Gold was busy all day in the shop, and Miss Kathy had work too, but Mr. Jefferson never had anything to do.

 He was always there, in his big house.

 After inviting her inside, they had worked to open most of the windows on the bottom floor. She got to see the kitchen, dining room, and more sitting and living rooms that even Mr. Gold’s house had. Next, they’d moved to the second floor. Here he didn’t let her into every room, but all the rooms she did see where filled with hats. Hats of all kinds. Some were finished, some were half done.

 (“Why don’t you finish them?” she had asked. “Because it makes no difference,” he had answered.”)

 They had gotten to work, at an extra tall table, like the bar in the kitchen at home. Her feet didn’t reach the floor, and he’d had to grab her a stool from downstairs. He offered to bring her tea—he didn’t smirk or laugh—seemed like he didn’t remember Mr. Gold’s rules at all.

 She said “no, thank you” with all her polite manners. She was thirsty, but not too thirsty. Besides, if she was too thirsty, she could just go home. It would be fine.

 Jefferson complimented her work every so often—more than usual. “That’s a very fine hat, very fine indeed.”

 “Thanks.”

 “Maybe this one’s special?”

 She opens her mouth, to ask what he means, when the doorbell rings.

 They both drop their work.

 “Shit,” Jefferson says.

 Her heart to pounds; if it was Mr. Gold she was in serious trouble, more serious than when she had bitten the dentist or kicking Mrs. Mavis’ cat, more serious than sneaking into the mayor’s yard—maybe the most serious trouble she had ever been in her whole life.

 Apparently, Jefferson was going to be in serious trouble too. “Shit, shit.” Racing around the table, he nearly pulls her off the barstool by the neck on her shirt. “We got to hide you.” Dragging her to the opposite end of the humongous room, he pushes her toward a counter. “Get up there,” letting her go, he opens one of the cabinets above. “This should hold.” Throwing the contents out, he orders, “Climb in.”

 It’s only a moment before the doorbell rings a second time, and she finally obeys, fearing confession more than being discovered. He closes the door on her, and, in the dark, she can hear him racing down the stairs.

 She tries to stop breathing so hard.

 --

 Jefferson curses to himself. This was a bad idea, but then he didn’t think Rumpelstiltskin had it in him to wait for an answer to the first doorbell if he truly believe his little pet inside. No, Rumpelstiltskin would have worked the door open, worked him open, worked everything down to the bone if he thought Belle inside.

 The very fact that Jefferson stood to run downstairs, to compose himself before opening the door, meant that it most certainly was not Mr. Gold, which meant it could only be one other person—which meant it could only be worse, far, far worse.

 Already, he could feel himself struggling to keep the deck together between shuffling and dealing, but with one queen up his sleeve, and one at his door, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep this going.

 He opens the door, slipping his free hand into his pocket, he smiles at his surprise visitor: “Regina, to what do I owe the honor?”

 She raises an eyebrow, “Well, someone’s in a better mood.” She holds two paper bags on her hip. “Thought I’d make my deliveries in person this month.”

 He frowns, “You didn’t bring a toolbox by chance?”

 She rolls her eyes, “Now, now, it can’t be that warm.” Ah, so she had gotten his message after all. Although, as she makes her way into the kitchen, Jefferson following, he can tell she doesn’t care for the temperature. “I called the AC guy. He should be here later in the week.” She unceremoniously drops his supplies down on the countertop, looking around, taking in the open windows, “Fresh air—not very like you, Jefferson.”

 He shrugs, forcing a casual reply, “What was I supposed to do?”

 The blood-red queen opens her mouth to answer, when they both hear a creak—from up above. She raises an eyebrow, and after a beat, shoves past him toward the stairs, “Jefferson, are you entertaining?”  

 “Regina!” he calls, taking the steps two at a time. He slips between her and the doorway, resting his elbow against it, blocking the work space with his body, “You know how I feel about keeping my work private.”

 She glares at him, “Uh huh—I’m well acquainted with you work.” The queen barrels past him, her eyes darting around. She throws open the cabinet door beneath the table, checks inside the closet. Finding nothing, she sighs, turning back to Jefferson.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “I’m looking for—” she stops, as her eyes narrow on the two hats on the table. “Jefferson, I’m only going to ask you once more: are you hiding someone from me?” her voice is near a whisper, and far more threatening than usual.

 “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She points to the two hats on the table, half-made, on pins and needles—just like him. “Then what are those?” she asks innocent—as innocent as when he had first met her.

 His heart falls to his feet, and he feels just like when his body fell to the floor, detached from his head. He feels as if he watches his body move all of its own accord. Sauntering over, he takes the hat from her hands sharply, “What? Never known someone to multi-task? But then you always were a little single-minded.”

 She frowns, “You’re lying.” She slowly circles him, but with little warning, flips, crossing the room to throw open the high cabinets above the countertop, yelling “Ah-hah!”

 It’s empty.

 When he can manage to inhale, he raises a hand, “See—stop being so paranoid. Are you getting heat stroke?”

 Regina rushes him, and with a finger to his chest, tells him, “Whatever you’re playing at, Hatter, you better know that I have a monopoly on magic around here.”

 “You know, never been much on the game myself.”

 “You’re crazy,” she mocks, “and you’re not going anywhere—so give it up. Any magic—anyone special—you think you’ve found, it’s because I’ve let you.” She pushes past him, and the sound of the door slamming can be heard from the workroom, but Jefferson doesn’t register it.

 A little head pops up from outside the window sill, “That was scary!” Hopping back into the room, Belle flexes her fingers, “That’s a lot harder than trees.” She looks up to her friend, who stands stock still, “Jefferson. You okay?”

 He turns to her, “You have to make it work.”

 Belle frowns, “Make what work.” After a second, she asks, “Why did the mayor call you ‘Hatter’?”

 “Yes—the hat, you have to fix it.” He walks up, and Belle without meaning to, takes a step backward. He takes her by the shoulders and guides her back to the worktable. “You have to make it work or I’m never going home, I’ll never get her back.”

 Belle frowns, “Get who back?”

 He sighs, “Not yet—finish it. Finish the hat.”

 Belle pushes down the feelings of fear. It feels like earlier, with his odd words and movements, but worse, much. Hands shaking just a little, she picks up her hat. This one has an orange ribbon. He paces behind her as she works, and strangely it does not slow her down—he is making her nervous—but somehow it speeds up her stitches, feeling him right behind her shoulder.

 As she ties her final knot in the threat and cuts off the excess, Jefferson grabs it from her hands.

 “I’m done.” She begins to move to stand, but he stops her.

 “No, not until you make it work.”

 “Make what work.”

 “Spin it, spin it, but with magic—you have magic, I know you can do it.”

 Belle eyes widen, “Magic—magic’s not real, Jefferson. Magic is just in stories.” She’s worried now, worried about her friend (worried about herself).

 He laughs then, a heavy, honeyed chuckle, “No—no it’s not—what do you think all those stories are you learn in school? Does that make them any less real because you learned about them as stories?”

 “Jefferson—I don’t—”

 “Come on! Don’t be so gullible, Jingle—that’s exactly what she wants you to believe! It’s that kind of thinking that got you stuck in her tower in the first place! Now get it to work.” His hands wrap around hers, and he makes her spin the hat as they had that one other time. He makes her spin it over and over.

 Nothing happens.

 “You’re not trying hard enough!” Jefferson practically shouts. “You have to try—or I’ll be cursed to live in this town forever.” Despite all his blandishments, all his training and praise, she’s holding out, she’s keeping all the magic for herself.

 Selfish—just like everyone else.

 “Make it work!” he shouts, but the kid twists and suddenly there’s an elbow to his stomach, quickly followed by one to his groin, and then she’s gone, racing out the door.

 --

 Belle doesn’t stop running until she’s far, far away from Jefferson’s place.

 Magic, he’d said she had magic, and towers and curses, too. He spoke words from her nightmares—and worse, he’d yelled at her.

 She stops to catch her breath after hopping the fence into Gold’s garden. That’s when she realizes she’s crying.

 She thinks of Mr. Knightley, the gym teacher, and she’s so thankful for the lessons. Belle never thought she would ever have to use those, but her training kicked in just when she needed it. Belle never thought she would have to use those on Jefferson.

 Jefferson was her friend, but he had scared her. She wipes harshly at her face, getting rid of her stupid tears. She was safe now. She was home.

 Mr. Gold never needed to know—

 “Belle?”

 She jumps, throwing her arms up in front of her, only to see Mr. Dove, standing there, shovel in hand, wearing a plain apron she recognizes from when Mr. Gold pulls weeds during the weekends.

 “Mr. Dove,” she squeaks.

 “What’s happened?” he asks in his deep voice. He takes in her wild hair, torn shorts and red eyes. He frowns, gripping the shovel tight, “Did someone hurt you?”

 “No—don’t tell Mr. Gold!”

 Mr. Dove frowns, “You’re not supposed to lie Miss French, and you know I can’t lie to Mr. Gold either.”

 She frowns, her tears creeping back up on her, “He’s going to be so mad at me.”

 Sympathy colors the hired hand’s face, “No, don’t cry, Miss Belle.” He sets down the shovel and takes off the apron. “Maybe we can talk about this.” He opens the back door and motions for her to enter first, as befitting a lady, and Dove follows right behind.

 More than comfortable in Gold’s pink house, the large man first fetches the little girl a cold glass of water, which she drinks too fast, causing her to cough. He refills her glass, only after which he gets one for himself. Once cooled, he takes a seat at the kitchen table beside her and asks quietly, “Why would Mr. Gold be mad?”

 “I went someplace I wasn’t supposed to go.”

 He sighs, “Why weren’t you supposed to go?”

 “Because Mr. Gold didn’t think it was safe.”

 Dove gives her a sharp look, and she begins to tear up. “Was it safe, Miss Belle?”

 She shakes her head, “No.”

 “Did someone hurt you?”

 “No.”

 He scratches his chin, “But you were scared.”

 She nods in reply, drinking some more of her water, holding it in both her hands.

 “I think,” he begins diplomatically, “that Mr. Gold is just going to be happy that you got away and that you’re safe now.” She looks up at him. She always had trouble finding her voice around Mr. Dove, but in this moment, she feels so very safe sitting next to him, knowing he’s in the pink house. “I think you should clean up, and maybe you will feel brave enough to tell Mr. Gold what happened.”

 Belle wipes at her eyes again, “Will you stay?”

 “Of course, Miss French.”

 Nodding, she pushes back her chair and heads upstairs, but as she turns on the water to take a shower, she hears Mr. Dove on the phone: “Mr. Gold, I think you need to close the shop early today.”

 --

 When Belle gets out of the shower, brushes her hair and puts on clean clothes, she knows Mr. Gold is home. She can hear them both downstairs, talking over things like “scraped knee,” “terribly frightened,” “running like her life depended on it.”

 She frowns: she was definitely in a lot of trouble.

 Walking downstairs, she keeps her hands behind her back, prim and proper. In the kitchen she finds Mr. Dove washing dishes (a clean apron on, once again) and Mr. Gold sitting at the kitchen table in his usual seat, cane balanced in front of him—he usually liked something to do with his hands while he waited to pronounce judgement (but it wasn’t usually her who was awaiting a sentence).

 He raises an eyebrow to his little ward when he notices her, “Ah, now I hear it’s been an eventful afternoon.”

 Mr. Dove turns to Belle and gives her a little nod. She takes in a big breath and begins her confession, “I did something I’m not supposed to do.”

 Mr. Gold frowned, stating sharply, “I figured that much.”

 A dish clanks loudly in the sink, and her caregiver rolls his head in that direction, “Something to add, Dove?”

 “No, sir.” Mr. Dove answers dispassionately and only mildly sarcastic.

 Turning back to his ward, Mr. Gold prompts, “You were saying?”

 “I went to make hats with Mr. Jefferson.”

 Mr. Gold’s eyes widen, “You what?”

 “I went—”

 He holds up a hand, “I heard what you said. What I can’t believe is that you would go without telling me. We had a deal.” He stamps his cane on the floor, almost without realizing, “We don’t lie to one another.”

 “I know,” she answers, guilty.

 “Now what happened to make you run like hell?”

 “Mr. Jefferson scared me.”

 “You didn’t drink or eat anything, did you?”

 “No, we just made hats.” She refrains from mentioning Mayor Mills, “but Mr. Jefferson was acting different.”

 “Different?” Gold asks.

 “Yeah, I think he was confused. Maybe sick.” Belle tells him of their hats and how he kept telling her to make it work, and finally, his words on magic. She confesses it all to Mr. Gold.

 When she’s finished. Gold sighs, rubs a hand down his face, but finally stands and walks over to the girl. She wants to start, hunching her shoulders, waiting for her fate.

 He puts a hand to her shoulder, “You got away. You used your training. That’s what matters.” Mr. Dove goes back to washing his dishes—Belle realizes he’d been silent, waiting on the verdict nearly as much as she. “There are still consequences for lying and rule breaking, but I’m just happy you’re safe.”

 Then, Belle blinks in surprise, as Gold pulls her into a stilted hug. He never hugs her. Praises her, teases her, gives her gifts, but he never, never hugs her. After a moment, she hugs him back, “You’re not angry?”

 “Oh, I’m angry, but not with you—well, not entirely.” He pulls back, making her look him in the eye, “There will be consequences, however.” Gold thinks for a moment, “Grounding, I think, until you can remember the importance of veracity.”

 “Veracity?”

 “Truth, dearie.”

 She nods.

 “More hours in the shop too, I think.”

 She held back a groan—should couldn’t read nearly as much in the shop as she wanted, but as she walks to her room (her grounding starting immediately), she thinks it won’t be so bad, as long as she’s with Mr. Gold.

 --

 Jefferson’s asleep when the sound of a door being kicked in rouses him—his door to be precise. Scrambling from where he’d fallen asleep on the floor, he rushes to find some sort of weapon (for he knows who to expect, he knows that nothing good can have come from his afternoon experiment).

 He reaches for a chair, when he senses more than hears the first attempt at a blow. He catches the cane in his own hand. He uses it to push Rumpelstiltskin away, giving himself enough time to grab the chair.

 “We had a deal, boy.”

 “I lied.” He counters a wild attempt at his head with the chair, and using it as a shield, pushes the crippled man back toward the table in the center of the room. Jefferson takes the opportunity to race out, in search of a better weapon. He has a baseball bat two rooms down. He reaches for it under a bed, but he can hear Rumpelstiltskin traipsing down the hall. He finds his feet just in time, standing to counter the cane. “It’s for my daughter. Can you blame me?”

 “Oh yeah, I can.” He’s sloppy, they both are—wild swing meets wild swing. “She’s too young—you put her in harm’s way, and now I’m going to make you pay.”

 “Nothing happened,” Jefferson’s lessons, his gifts could not harm—for she’d no magic, no magic at all, in this world. “She has no magic!” He finally lands a blow. Rumpelstiltskin jostles, knocking into the doorframe. “She’s nothing to me!” He shouts with a laugh, his hungry thirsty roots drove him to search for what wasn’t there—the kid wouldn’t be the one to make the hat work. Leaning toward the Dark One, tone smooth and sweet, “she’s all yours. I’m done with her.” Jefferson turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving the Jingle Belle to the old man’s cantankerous care.

 Belatedly, Rumpelstiltskin yanks on his shoulder with the handle of his cane, bringing Jefferson round to face him. The hatter does not resist. The sorcerer catches his necktie with the handle, tugging it down, before he makes his threat, “You go near her again, and I’ll kill you.” To prove the point, he opens his suit jacket to reveal a handgun, “It’ll be far worse than those little scratches, I assure you.”

 Jefferson tugs free and scoffs, “There’s nothing worse than what I’ve been through—nothing—but then I think you already know that.”

 The older man frowns, giving the haberdasher a little shove with the cane, “Focus, boy, do you mark my words? Stay away from her, or it’s your life.”

 Jefferson raised a hand, “Oh, I fold—she’s not worth the gamble.”

 The answer seems to strike a chord in the dealmaker, but with clenched jaw, his nods once, raises his cane and trudges down the stairs. As the door shuts, Jefferson briefly regrets not returning Blue’s sewing kit—she’d run out and forgotten it.

 Too, he thinks he’ll miss her jokes and her odd humors and her girlish giggle, but then he can always just keep watching her. That would be just as well. Just as grand. Just as lovely as talking and teaching. Watching would do just as well. What was the difference after all, in losing her visits if she could not take him and Grace from here to there?  

 --

 When Mr. Gold returns to the pink house, he sighs in relief. Dove reports that Miss French has not left her room after eating a light dinner and more water to rehydrate. Dove had also finished transplanting the iris bulbs.

 Splendid.

 “Mr. Gold?”

 “Yes, Dove,” he answers with a sigh, thumbing through the stack of mail on the kitchen table.

 “What was the man talking about?”

 Gold’s hands freeze, staring at flyer for the local deli. He recovers quickly, “Jefferson Hatter suffers with frequent delusions and is under house arrests. We’re lucky nothing worse happened this afternoon.”

 Dove has more questions—he can feel it—but the brawny man says nothing and takes his leave, allowing Gold to fully relax for the first since getting the phone call. He pours himself a nightcap and finishes going through the mail. However, an advertisement on sewing machines catches his eye.

 In a few weeks perhaps, he could ask if she wanted one. She might miss the sewing, after all.

#rumbelle fic #penance series #the mad hatter #my writing

[avasilvugh]

sun is gonna shine above

Really, Lena should have predicted this. or: the superbabies get their powers.  some are more anticipated than others.

find it on: ao3 ff.net

Finn's powers manifest when he's a year, just old enough to be starting to walk, holding onto Lena or Kara as support.

And they didn't know, not really—they knew there was a chance that he'd have powers, that the earth's yellow sun would strengthen him as much as it did for Kara. But they also knew that was just as big of a chance that he'd be perfectly ordinary, or that he might have super-speed but not strength, or maybe x-ray vision but not super-hearing, or any sort of combination of Kara's powers. Or, on the slimmest of chances, he might have some powers that were entirely unique to him.

But—well. He's got super-strength for sure. Lena learns this the hard way when she's walking with him, hunched over and letting him hold onto her fingers as he toddles towards Kara, seated on the floor with her arms open, grinning wide. They've been doing this for what's going on twenty minutes now, starting when Finn pulled himself onto shaky legs and took a few steps forward, one hand on the coffee table, before he fell back to the ground.

Lena's never thought of herself as over-emotional, never thought she'd be the type of mother that thought everything her child did was on par with the first moon landing, but she'd be hard pressed to say she wasn't itching to alert the media when she'd watched her son take those few shuffling steps.

So here she is now, grinning even though her back is aching from being bent at the waist like this. Finn's laughter more than makes up for it.

And then—well. Kara's grin widens and she says, "Come to Mama! Just a few more steps!" and Finn lets out a peal of delighted laughter and tightens his grip on Lena's fingers as he bounces in place, his excitement overtaking his desire to reach Kara's waiting arms.

Lena hears the break more than she feels it at first. Hears the crack, the crunch of bone snapping in her son's small hand. Kara's grin slips at the moment of impact, her eyes widen almost comically and Lena's barely registering her wife getting up from the floor and appearing beside her in an instant, can't think too much about the wave of nausea that comes over her, the pain that's radiating out from her right hand. Finn is still using her for support and Lena knows that if she shakes off his grip—if she even could shake off his grip—he'd fall and cry that awful cry that feels like a hot knife through Lena's chest whenever she hears it.

She keeps it together long enough for Kara to reach for Finn, for him to drop Lena's hands in favor of his mama's arms. Lena waits, even, to kiss her son's forehead and murmur weakly, "I am so proud of you!" before she stumbles into the kitchen to retch into the trash.

When she's emptied her stomach, she takes a look at her aching hand—the fingers Finn was holding onto are bruising already, swollen to high hell. One's bent a little more to the left than it normally is.

Lena finds herself hunching over the trash again, heaving violently. Kara materializes behind her, holding back Lena's hair and rubbing her back gently. "Where's—?" Lena starts, gasping between retches.

Shushing her gently, Kara waits until the newest wave of nausea's passed before she answers. "He's in his room. I set up the baby gate."

Lena nods once, pauses. "That won't hold him," she mumbles, the realization of what's happened—her son has powers—hitting her all at once now that her hand's gone numb, now that there's nothing left for her to retch into the trash.

Kara tilts her head to one side, brows drawing together. Her nose scrunches up, like she's trying to keep her glasses from slipping—it's a habit she has when she's thinking something over, carries over even behind closed doors, even when Kara's abandoned her glasses on the nightstand. She's quiet for a moment—listening, Lena realizes belatedly—and then she offers Lena a small smile. "Well," she raises her eyes to the ceiling, probably getting a visual on their son. "He doesn't know it won't hold him."

Her smile falters when she looks back to Lena, eyes skipping down to her hand, cradled against her chest. "Let me see." She holds out her own hands, winces in sympathy as she catches sight of the full damage when Lena rests her injured hand in Kara's. Sucking in a breath, Kara mutters, "Crap," on the exhale, gingerly turning her wife's hand over, trying to get an idea of the full extent of her injury. "I called Alex already," Kara informs her. "She'll be here in ten."

A good call, Lena knows. How would they explain it at the ER? Oh, yeah, those—my infant son sort of broke them. National City was surely one of the more tolerant cities when it came to aliens and metahumans, but that was just it—tolerant, not welcoming. And Lena refuses to put her family through the media circus that would result if it got out that Lena Luthor—Lena Danvers, legally, though the media's never been one for legality—is raising an alien child. Refuses to put that even larger target on her son's back, refuses to out Kara like that. Lena wasn't going to let something as small as broken fingers change any of that.

Regardless of how terrible something as small as broken fingers feels.

After a few beats of silent scrutinizing of Lena's hand, Kara says, "They're both broken, but they're clean breaks."

Lena allows Kara to coddle her for the few minutes that they wait for Alex, leans into the way that Kara gently manhandles her to the couch, lets her place an icepack on her injured hand and bites back her wince at the sting that comes with it.

Of course, though, she's married to Supergirl and super-hearing never shuts off, not when it comes to her. "Oh, Rao," Kara hisses, pulling back so the ice is just barely touching Lena's aching hand. "I'm so sorry, Lena."

Her eyes have been pretty glued to the purpling mess that is her hand, but Lena looks up now, takes in the guilt seeming to radiate out from Kara, from every pore, her blue eyes dark with it. It's then that Lena catches on—catches the tension in Kara's shoulders, the way she keeps scanning Lena's face but refuses to make eye contact, keeps flicking her eyes up to look through the floor at Finn.

"Kara."

"Hm?" Eyes still glued to the ceiling, the coil of tension through Kara tightens which, quite honestly, Lena wasn't sure was possible.

"Kara, darling," Lena leans forward. "Would you look at me please?"

And then—finally—her wife locks eyes with her, eyebrows drawn together into a heavy line. There's guilt and sadness etched into Kara's face, her eyes wide and wet and there is so very little Lena would do to chase that expression away permanently.

She knows that improbability of that, though. She makes do with what she can in the moment.

"This," Lena murmurs, raising her hand, watching as Kara tracks it, "isn't your fault. It's not Finn's fault. It's not my fault." She pauses a moment, then adds, "I knew what I was signing up for, love. A few broken fingers aren't going to get me to change my mind."

"I—." Kara breaks off when the front door opens, Alex striding in.

"Heard you got quite the bruiser on your hands," the older woman says, a sly grin working its way onto her face. When she catches sight of Kara's face, catches the heavy feeling that seems to be seeping into every corner of their house, her smile fades. "Alright," she comes around to Lena's other side, speaking softly. "I've got her, you check on him," she nods upstairs, no doubt catching the way Kara habitually looks to the ceiling.

Kara nods sharply, pressing a kiss to Lena's temple before she tells her sister what the extent of her wife's injuries are. She squeezes Lena's good hand lightly before she turns to leave.

"We're finishing this conversation later," Lena presses gently, looking over her shoulder as Alex guides her towards the living room.

Unease twists, sharp in Lena's chest, when Kara only offers a weak nod in response before she disappears up the stairs.

Once Lena's seated on the couch, Alex turns back to grab the bag she'd abandoned on the coffee table, pulling out a buddy splint and medical tape and, after a moment of hesitation, a small bottle of medication.

"DEO specialty," she whispers conspiratorially when she hands the bottle to Lena and it's moments like these that Lena's all the more pleased that Alex's warmed to her. "They're fast acting if you chew them, which you're going to want to do because what I'm about to do is going to hurt like a fucker and I know you've got a thing about needles."

Lena does as she's told, rolling her eyes at Alex's teasing tone even as she glances up for confirmation when she shakes out two pills into her palm. At her sister-in-law's responding nod, Lena gathers her grit and tips them back, biting down and wincing at the bitter flavor.

"Right," Alex says belatedly. "They also taste like shit."

"Thanks," Lena grumbles around the chalky pills as she glares up at her, holding out her hand when Alex gestures for it. Her glare lessens when Alex produces a water bottle from her bag, cracking it open and handing it to Lena without a word. Once she's washed the awful taste from her mouth, she adds sincerely, "Thank you. For coming over."

"Of course," Alex responds simply. She lets the words rest for a minute before she teases, "Kara'd have my head if I made you head to Urgent Care."

It goes unspoken, but Lena's sure that Alex's reasons for coming over so quickly are in line with Kara's reasons for calling her, for Lena's reasons in wanting to stay home for this. Sure that she's just as aware of the dark cloud looming over their family, more apparent now, even when they'd been so giddy just an hour before.

It's when Lena's quite lost in thought that Alex manipulates her index finger back into place. "Shit," Lena lets out in a long, slow exhale, jaw clenched. "Jesus."

"But it's done. Hold still for a couple more minutes…"

Alex works efficiently, though never without care; her hands are steady as she splints Lena's fingers, steady even as she says quietly, "We've been working on something over at the DEO, a supplement that binds the proteins that react to a yellow sun. Just in case." She looks up at Lena briefly, her gaze kind, understanding. "You can mix it into his juice. It'll dampen his powers until you guys decide he's old enough to learn to control them."

There's a part of Lena that's mildly upset that she's so easily read, but it's pushed aside by the larger part of her, the part that has her nearly sagging against the couch in relief. The part that she's never given a voice to, that came roaring to the surface the moment she'd felt Finn's grip tighten around her fingers.

Fear—that's what it is. The fear that she'd lose out on being involved when Finn's this little, that she'd be forced onto the sidelines because she can't hold up to a toddler made of steel. That her role in his life would be reduced by distance, unavoidable and necessary as it may be.

Alex finishes taping her fingers, securing the splints in place. "There," she says, patting Lena's shoulder after only a slight hesitation. "Medical crisis handled." She's quick to pack up, abandoning Lena on the couch as she stands, placing her equipment back into her bag. "I'm going to check in with Kara before I head out. Give her a heads up on the supplement."

Nodding, Lena spots the stuffed tiger that Alex is unsuccessfully trying to hide behind the lip of her bag. "And spoil Finn, of course," Lena says drily. She's well acquainted with Alex's habit of showering her son with gifts—it's welcome, of course, but there is so little that Lena feels comfortable poking fun at when it comes to her wife's older, very protective sister that she has to take the opportunities when she can.

"Well, yeah," Alex rolls her eyes. "I have it on good authority that my little guy started walking today." She reaches down into her bag, pokes the head of the animal up over the lip. "Figured that he needed a new buddy to celebrate."

With that she's off and, even without super-hearing, Lena can track her upstairs, hears her excited voice when she reaches Finn's room.

Lena's still a little shocked that all it took to reduce her highly trained, highly dangerous secret government agent of a sister-in-law to mush was one flash of Finn's baby blues. She gets it, though—the same happened to her, turned her into the world's biggest pushover the moment she laid eyes on her son.

There's not much to do while she waits for Kara to reappear, not much that Lena can do now that her right hand is all but useless and there's a comfortable haze that's blurring the world right now, so she settles back against the couch, lolls her head back and closes her eyes.

Exhaustion hits her like a bus, shoulders sagging under the weight of it. It's only a little past noon and they'd had plans to go to the farmer's market, but all Lena wants to do is curl up with her wife and son and fall asleep that way, tucked away with her favorite people.

There's a creak from the top of the stairs. Lena opens her eyes just as Kara reappears, looking just about as tired as Lena feels, and she realizes her plan won't require a strong argument to convince her wife.

"He was pretty tuckered out," Kara tells her, rubbing the back of her neck as she makes her way to the couch. "The second he saw Alex, he demanded she read him a story and then fell right asleep."

And then, as if summoned, Alex is coming down the stairs, soft smile not quite faded. "Little man's still down for the count."

"You got him into his crib without waking him?" Kara asks, looking entirely impressed. Lena has to agree—that's not yet a skill either of them have mastered.

Alex nods. "Didn't even notice," she says, her smile turning smug in an instant. "I've got to head out. You," she points at Lena. "Ice that hand. You can ditch the splints in three weeks." She reaches Kara, still standing beside the couch, leans up to kiss the side of her head. "And you—keep your wife out of trouble. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Lena waits until the door has closed before reaching back, holding open her good hand. When Kara grabs it, holds it loosely in her own, Lena squeezes and orders gently, "Come here. We have a conversation to finish."

There's a pause, a moment of hesitation; Lena leans back again just in time to catch the tail end of Kara's worried expression before she schools her features, offering her a sweet smile in its place.

Kara doesn't let go of Lena's hand, opting to float over the back of the couch to reach her seat rather than walk around the couch. When she's seated, there's a beat of silence and Lena's just opening her mouth to start in on it, about to press and prod as carefully as she can until she gets Kara to come out with it when Kara speaks first.

"I'm so sorry," she says again, holding up her hand when Lena starts to protest. "I know—honey, I know what you're going to say. But just—I need to just say this."

Her tone is steady, firm even, but she has a look about her that screams HANDLE WITH CARE, so that's what Lena does; she nods gently, squeezes Kara's hand again. Waits patiently for her wife to gather her thoughts.

"There was a part of me that was hoping he—that Finn wouldn't manifest powers so that something like, like this wouldn't happen." She picks up Lena's injured hand with her free one, holds it gingerly. Her eyes trip to it, stay there for a few silent breaths before she looks back to Lena. "But I—Rao, I feel so guilty about this Lee, but I'm—the first thing I thought after holy crap our son just broke my wife's hand was how happy I am that he's strong. That he's like me, that I can—that I won't have to be so—." She breaks off, looking around helplessly as if the walls held the answers.

"Careful?" Lena suggests. When Kara nods, Lena mirrors her—she'd suspected as much. Sensed the ever-present trepidation whenever Kara plays with Finn. And she very much remembers that awful first week after Finn was born, when Kara was too nervous to hold him, too worried she'd break him. "You don't have to feel guilty for that, Kara," she assures. "You've spent so long being careful with us all," she doesn't feel the need to specify who she's speaking of—doesn't really feel she can, not when Kara's care is needed by the world at large. "No one, least of all me, can blame you for wanting this."

Kara snorts, says with a hard edge, "Wanted it so much I didn't care what it would mean for you."

"You are allowed to be selfish," Lena insists sharply.

"Not when it comes to our son."

"Yes, when it comes to our son. God knows I've been."

Confusion clouds Kara's gaze, her stormy expression clearing only to be replaced by one of worry, befuddlement. Lena takes a breath, gathers the right words to voice these thoughts and then, finally—"I have been so afraid, since the day he came into this world. Afraid that I would lose him." She can feel Kara about to interject, can feel the way the muscles in her arm jump as she leans forward, so Lena rushes to finish her thought. "I wasn't afraid of the idea of his powers," she explains. "But rather that I'd lose out on being able to be around him safely. That I would have to keep my distance because our son's too young to know to control his strength. And I—I wanted so badly for him to be like you. But there was a part of me that wanted him to be like me, just as badly."

"Lena." 

Kara says her name quietly, all exhale as if she's had the wind knocked out of her and, from the looks of her, it effectively had. Lena's made it a point to never regret her words when it comes to Kara, to only say what she means, but she's very near regretting these words.

Because it's a weight off her chest, it is, but now she's given the fear a voice, given it a chance to fill the room, weigh down on her shoulders instead, given it a chance to burden Kara. And she never wants to burden her wife, not when she carries so much with her already.

The words are said, the fear voiced already. Lena does what she can to control the damage. "But the worst happened and now we know," she says with false cheer, offering as bright of a smile as she can muster. She knows Kara can see right through her, but the act is less for Kara than it is for Lena herself. If she acts as if they're fine, then they are. Then Lena doesn't have to think about the dangers for their son that lurk just outside their home, not right now at least. "And," she adds, her voice tinged with genuine relief, "Alex mentioned the supplement. So maybe we can have it both ways."

Kara nods, offering her own small smile in return. "She's bringing some tomorrow for me to test," she tells Lena. "If everything goes well, we can start him on it on Monday."

A day and a half away. Lena just has to make it through the rest of the weekend before she can hold her son without worry again—it seems unfairly far away, but thirty-six hours as bargain for the years she'll get back if this all works? A trade she would make any day.

"So," Kara starts, drawing Lena out of her thoughts. "I'm guessing we're skipping the farmer's market today?"

The tension between them effectively broken, the lingering sadness chased away by the sunny grin Kara aims at her, Lena can't help but smile back and lean into her wife. "You would be entirely correct, darling," she murmurs, delighting in the warmth of Kara's arms as they wrap around her.

...

(Later, Finn's sisters will use this story to tease him mercilessly.

"Quit being such a brat, Stella."

"At least I'm a brat that hasn't broken Mom's hand."

"I was—that's not—I was a baby!")

/

Really, Lena should have predicted this. Should have expected it from little Maia, already proving herself the ultimate drama queen at a week old, having picked the moment Lena handed her off to Kara to spit up, nailing the emblem of Kara's suit squarely, as if to make her opinion on her mother's absence for the hours before irrevocably known.

Their daughter has a flair for the dramatic and Lena should have known that her powers would manifest in a manner suiting her behavior.

That said—there's really no way that Lena would have guessed that the gift of flight would be the first to appear.

"Mama's going to be home soon," Lena coos to her daughter, drawing one finger along the pad of Maia's foot and grinning when she reflexively kicks her leg, curls her toes. "Mama's coming back and she's bringing Finn," she draws the same line across the little foot before her, "and she's bringing my favorite dinner. All of our favorites, love!"

Maia gurgles in response; Lena takes that as her approval. She turns away from the crib to fetch one of the swaddling blankets from the chest of drawers along the opposite wall, her grin quieting slightly as she does.

She loses the smile completely when she turns back and her daughter—her fifteen day old infant, mind you—is not where Lena left her, tucked up comfortably in her crib. Because this? Just doesn't make sense? How in the fuck does a baby disappear?

Panic rising, Lena crosses the room quickly, blanket still clutched in one hand. She reaches over the edge of the crib, reaches down and presses her free hand to the mattress, wondering briefly if perhaps Maia just developed invisibility—the idea of it makes her a little dizzy (a baby that sometimes just disappears? What the hell?), but it's an idea that's shot down quickly when Lena feels nothing but quickly fading warmth where Maia had lain.

Kara's name is already on the tip of her tongue when Lena looks up. She battles back the urge to scream it because, well—

Maia's hovering about four feet above Lena's head, eyes closed peacefully. Practicality wins over instinct in this moment; Lena realizes that if she screams for her wife, there's a very good chance she'll startle the baby before Kara can get home to collect her from the rafters, a good chance that Maia will drop and Lena doesn't trust her very human reflexes to respond fast enough to catch her.

She stays close, though, when she collects her phone from the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. Human reflexes are better than none, right?

Kara, bless her, picks up on the first ring, already halfway through a sentence. "—on our way, I promise! Finn thought ice cream would be a good idea, so we made just a little detour—."

"Kara," Lena says very quietly, cutting her off. Her wife falls silent immediately, breaking only to shush Finn gently when he grabs for her phone. "I need you to get home very quickly. Are you able to do that?" Are you in a place you can fly off from?

"I—yeah," Kara murmurs. Lena hears some rustling from her end. "Is this—Finn's with me?" What am I walking into?

Finn says something when he hears his name, his voice too far away from the phone for Lena to pick out his words. "We're safe," Lena assures her quickly. She picks up speed on her next words, though her voice stays low, even. "Maia can fly. She's about two feet out of my reach and asleep."

"Crap." Some more rustling. "Okay, I'll—baby, just hold tight to me, okay?"

Finn's voice is closer now. "Are we gonna zoom?"

"Mhmm, we're gonna zoom super-fast. Lena?"

"Yes?" She keeps her eyes glued to Maia, still asleep, still floating above Lena's head, out of reach, out of the safety Lena can promise if she were holding her. Her stomach flips at the thought of what could've occurred if this hadn't happened now, when she was right there to notice.

"I need to hang up," Kara tells her. "But I'll be there in a couple minutes. She's asleep still?"

"She is."

Kara lets out a breath. "Okay. I'll be there soon."

The phone clicks off but Lena keeps it clutched in her hand, already at peace with potentially losing it in the mad dash to catch Maia, should she fall.

Kara, she knows, flies home as fast as she safely can with Finn—that she's landing on the balcony and running in just under two minutes after they hang up, but it feels like the longest two minutes of Lena's life, just standing there, staring up at her child and knowing that no matter how hard she tries, it won't be enough if things go wrong.

There's a flutter of movement behind her, but Lena doesn't turn until she sees Kara out of the corner of her eye, handing Finn off to her before she's bouncing off the floor lightly. Lena glances down briefly, just long enough to take in the sweep of her son's hair, his wide, excited eyes and then she's turning back to see Kara reaching out, gently pulling their daughter into her arms.

Something like a weight slides off Lena's chest the moment Maia's settled in her mother's arms. The vise around her heart eases when Kara's feet have settled on the ground beside her. It's not until Kara's turning to her, looking at her with that deer in the headlights look of hers that Lena can truly appreciate the absurdity of the situation.

Kara, to her credit, seems only slightly unnerved when Lena's suddenly laughing. "Uh—," she starts. She gets no further because then Finn's laughing as well, shrieking in delight along with his mother. Maia, bless her, sleeps through it all. Lena's not sure now why she was so worried about her daughter waking mid-air, though that has little to do with Maia's sleeping habits and all to do with the fact that she's in Kara's arms.

"At least—," Lena wheezes, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "At least I haven't—."

Glancing down at the baby in her arms, as if she knows why her mother's in hysterics, Kara's greeted with Maia's soft, sleepy attempt at a smile, her little lips curling up. It's then that the giggles hit her, too.

That's how Alex finds them, fifteen minutes later. She'd been the one that Kara had called on the flight over, sent to collect the family car full of groceries, and she's the one that drops the bags in the kitchen and follows the rolling laughter up the stairs.

"Well, I can't say this is the strangest situation I've found you guys in," Alex grins from the doorway. "But I am surprised, since I heard my favorite girl took a little flight today," she coos, looking very much like she'd like to take Maia from Kara, but reroutes when she catches sight of the gentle glare Kara levels at her, the minute way her hold on Maia tightens. "I also heard that my favorite little man got to fly too!"

Finn reaches out for his aunt immediately and Lena gives no protest at the transfer, lets him slip from hanging around her neck to hanging around Alex's smoothly. "Mama zoomed so fast, we made the sound wall yell!" he starts, speaking quickly. His smile dims slightly, his little brows drawing together. "I wanted to say hi to the birdies but Mama said there was a mermgency so I couldn't." He leans in a bit then, pushing Alex's hair away from her ear a little clumsily so he can whisper loudly, "I did anyway."

"The birdies appreciated that, I'm sure," Alex murmurs, turning towards the door with one last confused look shot in Kara and Lena's direction. "Now, do you know why your moms are acting so silly?"

Finn's answer is lost to distance as Alex heads back downstairs. After a few more moments of unrestrained laughter, Kara's the first to pull herself back together, sucking in a few deep calming breaths and bouncing Maia gently.

"So," Kara says, raising her voice just enough to be heard over Lena's continued laughter. "Is what's happening here just relief that our daughter didn't plummet from the ceiling or—?"

"I just—." Lena stumbles back, presses a hand to her chest as she leans against the wall nearest the crib. "This is very us, isn't it?"

For a moment it looks like Kara wants to protest, but then she looks down at their daughter again and her smile brightens, widens. "Well, at least you didn't break anything this time." At Lena's responding glare, she reaches over and raps her knuckles against the wooden rail of Maia's crib. "So far," she tacks on belatedly, her smile twisting apologetically.

Lena's glare breaks. "I can't say that's not appropriate, considering I was thinking the same thing." She pushes off the wall to come to Kara's side, hands itching for her daughter now that the hysterics have passed. "What are we going to do with you, love?" Lena murmurs, brushing her fingertips across Maia's downy hair. "Taking flight when I'm not looking."

"Troublemaker," Kara tuts.

"Quite like her mother, I think." She doesn't have to look up to know the look Kara's leveling at her, so Lena quirks an eyebrow, adds, "Don't look at me like that. I seem to recall that you have, on more than one occasion, flung yourself off a building to demonstrate your abilities."

"I—I was an adult when I did that!"

"Makes it even worse, then," Lena hums, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "Fully grown woman launching herself off a rooftop." She lowers her voice slightly, whispers to Maia, "You may need to teach your mother a thing or two about restraint, hm?"

Kara huffs. "And to think I picked up your mommy's favorite ice cream," she says to Maia, bypassing Lena entirely. "Only to find her trying to turn you against me! The nerve."

Teasing goes out the window when ice cream is on the line, Lena decides as she leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Kara's mouth. A blush creeps up her wife's neck, along her cheekbones and Lena delights in it, presses another kiss just below her ear. "I'm sorry," she murmurs to the soft skin she finds there. "I'll make it up to you."

"I—Lena!" Kara sputters. "Little ears."

Lena pulls away then, slips Maia from Kara's arms while she's still sputtering. Some unsettled piece of her heart slots back into place at the warm weight of her daughter. As she turns to collect the swaddling blanket where she'd dropped it, Lena grins cheekily and scoffs, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, darling. I was simply thinking that I could be persuaded to share some of my ice cream with you and, frankly, I'm shocked your mind is so easily diverted to the gutter."

She heads into the hall, towards their room to spread the blanket out on the bed to swaddle Maia, but she manages to hear Kara's groan of frustration and "—killing me, Lena!" as she goes.

...

(This, too, becomes a story that Maia's siblings love to use to mock her.

"Aw, you getting mad, sis? Gonna go sulk in the rafters?"

"Shut up, Finn, I haven't done that since I was a kid."

"Maybe take a nap and float it off."

"Finn!"

"If you guys fight and break something, I'm ratting you out to Moms."

"BUTT OUT STELLA!")

/

Stella's three before there's any hint that she's not entirely human. And this time, at least, Lena doesn't feel guilty at all for not expecting it.

Stella had come to them when she was all of four hours old, after a series of tragic events that left her in Supergirl's arms; her father had committed suicide, throwing himself into the bay while she remained strapped into her car seat in his still running vehicle on the pier. Her mother was found at the address on the man's license, having died during childbirth. There was a note, a lost man's fevered ramblings that wouldn't become clear until much later. Kara'd taken one look at the infant in her arms, the little orphan who hadn't woken once during the whole ordeal, and she'd flown straight to L-Corp before she could make any rash decisions.

It hadn't mattered much. Lena was immediately endeared by the tiny baby, already agreeing by the time the little girl had reached out and wrapped her hand around Lena's index finger. They had gone home that night and dug out the bassinet that they hadn't quite had the heart to throw out yet, even though they were ostensibly done having children.

Later, Kara will say it was fate.

So little Stella Danvers joined her family with no expectations of powers, meta or alien. Sure, she proved to be a highly sensitive little girl, often struggling with sensory overload that was both entirely different and startlingly similar to that of her Kryptonian family members', but these facts were quickly and easily written off.

And then there's another attempt on Lena's life.

It wasn't uncommon for Lena to bring her children to work with her; with Finn, it was because he was their first baby and being apart from him was difficult for both her and Kara. Her job simply lent itself better to a child coming along, and the arrangement allowed Kara to see him easily enough at lunch. Maia was often brought out of habit—Lena had become accustomed to the weight of one of her babies slung across her front and found she cared very little about the opinions of her board members when she walked into meetings with an infant asleep on her chest.

Her elder children had grown out of the habit, quickly grown bored in Lena's office and began preferring their daycare to quiet afternoons with their mother. It had smarted, but it was inevitable.

Stella, however, never grew out of it. Preferred taking naps in her mother's lap as Lena conducted meetings or argued in near flawless Mandarin or French or countless other languages with her foreign investors. And, with as many screaming meltdowns as she had when Lena or Kara had tried to drop her off at daycare, it only made sense for Lena to keep bringing her to work for the time being. She did always feel more content with Stella around, the little girl's calm personality acting as a balm when board members were being particularly abrasive.

The day begins ordinarily—Kara shuffles Maia and Finn out the door, dropping them off at preschool and first grade before heading to work. Lena gets Stella dressed, packs her bag for the day and sets off. Stella's always clingy in the morning, so Lena thinks nothing of it when the little girl whines pitifully as Lena buckles her into her car seat. "I know, love," she soothes, leaning into the car to kiss her daughter's forehead. "But it's a short trip to Mommy's office."

"Bad," is all Stella mumbles, her brows furrowed.

"Hm?"

"Bad."

"I know, but not long." She punctuates her sentence with another kiss, this time to Stella's nose and frowns when it doesn't result in the giggle it normally does. "A grumpy goose today, then?"

After a beat of no response, Lena shrugs and goes about packing the car as usual. Stella stays silent the entire drive, only mutters, "Bad," again as Lena unbuckles her and settles her on her hip.

"Still?"

"Bad."

"I'm sure we can rustle up some cookies for you. Would that make you feel better?" She's entirely glad Kara isn't around to witness this exchange, sure that there'd be a bit of teasing if she were. Lena likes to put up a tough front, insisting on healthy snacks for their children, but her kids know she's ultimately a pushover—hence the sweets hidden in nearly every corner of her office.

Stella shakes her head, tucking herself closer to her mother, the heels of her ballet flats digging into Lena's abdomen and back. She stays tightly wound the entire walk up to Lena's office, relaxing her death grip on Lena only slightly when the door closes behind them.

Luckily for them, Lena's become rather adept at working with a baby on her hip. She sets her things down and rifles through a couple drawers to produce the pack of Oreo's she had stashed the day prior. "Here we are, Stella!" She offers the package to her daughter, smiling softly as the little girl holds it for her mother to open. Stella helps herself to two cookies, her pout easing slightly. "That's my girl."

Her morning carries on with ease; Stella refuses to leave her lap, but Lena's learned to work around a child taking up most of her space. She takes her nine thirty and eleven AM meetings with a little slip of a thing hanging around her neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when one of the newest investors makes to protest at the extra head at the table.

Morning slips into afternoon quickly enough; Stella's head lifts off Lena's shoulder all of two minutes before Kara walks into the office, bringing with her a bright smile and two large bags of takeout for lunch. "How are you?" Kara greets, leaning over Stella to kiss Lena quickly before she leans down to kiss the top of their daughter's head.

"Good," Lena cards her fingers through Stella's hair. "This one's been quite cuddly today. Hasn't let go of me for more than the car ride here. What about you? Is Snapper still on you about the Monahan fire?"

"Mhmm," Kara hums in response as she starts unpacking their lunch onto the coffee table. "I had to wait until he went to his office to yell some more before I could slip out."

"I could have him fired, you know. One call to Cat…"

Kara levels her with a look, but doesn't pause as she makes up a plate of fried rice and orange chicken for Stella. She passes it to Lena even as she tries to coax Stella off of Lena's lap. "Stella-bella, it's going to be awfully hard for you to eat when you're acting like a koala. I'm pretty sure you aren't a koala baby." She swoops in to kiss the side of Stella's head and adds, "Just our baby."

Stella doesn't budge an inch, but she does look up at the sound of Kara's voice. "Bad," she tells her urgently.

Her mothers exchange a look over her head. This was new, the tone.

Nightmare? Kara mouths at her, tilting her head to one side.

Lena shrugs, nods. Maybe, she mouths back.

"Stella," Kara leans down to look their daughter in the eye. "You're safe here, yeah? Safe with me and Mommy."

She gets no response, but Stella also doesn't feel the need to repeat her ominous proclamation, so with one more look exchanged between Kara and Lena, they set about lunch. Stella allows Lena to turn her so that she can hold her own plate and Lena doesn't risk getting orange sauce down her front, but that's the most separation she allows.

Her mothers eat in relative quiet, though they both find themselves growing increasingly uneasy as Stella gets more and more agitated. Finally, she abandons her plate halfway through, dropping it to the floor and turning back into Lena, arms and legs wrapping around her.

"Stella!" Kara admonishes, setting her own plate aside to lean down to clean up the mess their daughter's made. "That wasn't nice at all."

"Bad," Stella says again, twisting one hand in Lena's hair. "Bad man."

That's when Kara freezes, sends a shot of something cold through Lena when she looks up, panic and anger in her eyes. "Safe room, now," is all she says before she's in motion, standing and moving to block the door.

Lena moves at the same time, arms coming around Stella as she stands. The door bursts open then, three masked men striding in, all heavily armed. On instinct, Lena drops to the ground, crawls under her desk and tries to pry Stella from her in order to push her behind her. Stella has other plans, only tightening her grip on Lena.

"We're here for Luthor," one of the men rasps, no doubt addressing Kara. "It'd be a pity for those kids to lose both their mothers."

Flinching automatically, Lena tries to reign in her own fear, a skill she's been in possession of since she was very small and, for the first time in her life, finds she can't. When Kara snaps, "Don't ever talk about my children," Lena starts to panic despite knowing without a doubt that Kara isn't about to let anything happen to her or Stella, and she begins running a hand up and down Stella's back as much to soothe her daughter as to soothe herself.

And then there are the tell-tale sounds of bone cracking, metal bending. The groan and shriek of weapons being torn apart. The dull thud of a man being thrown across the room.

The fight doesn't last long—three men are nothing compared to the Girl of Steel, particularly when her family is being threatened. Even after the obvious sounds of violence end, Lena stays beneath the desk, struggling to regain control her breathing; she remains kneeling, curled around Stella until Kara's face appears before her.

"Are you guys okay?" Kara's breathing heavily, but Lena knows that's from fear rather than exertion.

She nods quickly, pausing to glance down, checking Stella over before she looks up and says, "Shaken, but intact." Lena reaches out, heartrate calming when Kara folds her hand over Lena's.

"I—," Kara starts, breaking off and tilting her head to the side. Her earpiece is probably going off, Lena figures. "We're safe," Kara doesn't say to her. "Yeah—yes. Finn and Maia are—can she?" Her shoulders slump immediately, like a weight sliding off them. "I'm—they're alive," she says quietly. "But I need to get Lena and Stella somewhere safer. Can you take care of everything?"

Whatever Alex answer must be affirmative, because then Kara's nodding, tapping her earpiece off and turning her attention back to her wife and daughter. "Maggie's picking up the kids and Alex is bringing a clean-up crew." She tugs on Lena's hand gently, coaxing her out from under the desk. "We need to move."

Lena crawls out slowly, waylaid by the need to keep one hand on Stella's back to support her. She has to stop once they're out, has to sit back and cross her legs and lean against the desk to catch her breath. Stella's shaking in her arms; the penny doesn't drop until Kara reaches for her hand again, holds it between both of hers to still it's quaking.

When the realization lands, it lands hard.

Kara stiffens when Lena gasps, her grip tightening as she shifts closer. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Kara asks, quickly scanning Lena for injuries.

"Kara," she breathes, stilling. She looks up to see her wife's worry, the strained press of her lips. "She knew."

"What?" Kara's eyes settle on Stella, still shaking, still clinging to Lena. "That's—." It looks as though impossible is poised to be the next word out of her mouth, but she must think better of it. After a moment of hesitation, she reaches out, sets her hand on the back of Stella's head and murmurs, "Stella, sweetheart, who's the bad man?"

Stella turns to face her mother, her eyes dark and wide and wet and she sniffles, rubs her tear streaked cheek on Lena's shoulder. "Bad man," she mumbles. "Hurt Mommy." She sniffles again, looking very near tears again when she adds, "There." She drops one arm from around Lena's neck and points past Kara, points to where Lena can just barely see the boot of one of the men. Points to where Lena knows Stella can't see.

Quite frankly, Lena's entirely grateful Kara didn't question her further, just took her at her word and turned to Stella because Lena would have no idea how to explain her sudden statement, nor her newfound yet unshakeable belief that their daughter knew what was about to happen. She's not sure she could put it to words, not when it was just a gut feeling that Lena couldn't ignore. It fits with other little things she's noticed and catalogued over the course of the three years of Stella's life; the way Stella always seems to know when she or Kara are about to enter a room, the preemptive flinch before Maia stomps in the front door yelling about her terrible day, the easy way she finds her way into Finn's room when he's having another nightmare. Little things Lena's written off as her daughter being particularly empathetic.

When Lena looks up again, Kara staring at her with shock written on her face. "Stella," she starts slowly. "How did you know the bad man wanted to hurt Mommy?"

"Feel it," Stella whimpers. "See it. 's loud. Red." She pauses, stares up at Kara. Reaching out, Stella pats Kara's cheek with her chubby hand. "Mama cry."

The words hang in the air; Stella doesn't wait for a response before she's turning back, tucking her face into Lena's neck and entirely missing the look her mothers exchange above her head. Probably for the best, really, considering the look is a nauseating mix of comprehension and abject terror.

They don't have much time to break it down, talk it through, not with Stella still clinging to Lena and three would-be assassins sprawled on the carpet of her office and god knows what else coming for them. "Later," Lena breathes, gesturing for Kara and flashing her a strained smile when she helps her stand.

Kara nods shortly and, once Lena's solidly on her feet, she asks, "Would you feel comfortable flying with her?"

Adjusting her hold on Stella, Lena nods in response. "I've got her," she says quietly before she stops short of stepping into the protective circle of Kara's arms. "You're Kara," she realizes.

She gets a head tilt, a hurried shove of Kara's glasses up her nose. "Yeah?"

"No," Lena scoffs, reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Kara's button down. "You're Kara. And Supergirl hasn't flown in to rescue us."

"I—," Kara starts, looking very much like she wants to argue, but it's true, and it's the middle of the day, no cover of darkness to get away with flying in her work clothes. There's no escaping the logic of Lena's argument, no way to bend the rules this time. "We'll wait for Alex, then," she settles on finally, crossing the room quickly and opening the door to Lena's balcony.

They're sitting in silence in Lena's panic room when DEO agents storm her office, Alex at the head of the charge. This is a dance they've done before, enough times that the whole of the DEO is in on it; sometimes Kara finds herself in a situation where she can't be Supergirl, but has to fight like she is anyway. For secret government agents, they're quite good at acting, Lena thinks, hearing Alex begin the charade by thanking a nonexistent Supergirl for her work. She supposes that, in the silence that follows, they've set up the hologram of Kara leaping off the balcony and disappearing into the clouds above.

Lena keeps her eyes trained on the security feed projected on the wall across from where she and Kara are seated, watching as Alex's team makes quick work of cuffing her assassins. Stella's stopped shaking finally, though she's started crying silently, her shoulders moving slightly, in time with the hot tears that are dripping onto Lena's shoulder. She'd like nothing more than to be able to soothe her daughter, promise that they're safe, but she and Kara have had the unfortunate burden of having to teach their children how to behave in panic rooms and that includes silence—Stella's still young enough that Lena worries that showing her differently would confuse her. She stays silent, but runs her hand up and down Stella's back slowly, pushing all of her comfort and promises into the action as best she can.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena can see Kara worrying her bottom lip, her gaze heavy and worried as it rests on Stella. Her attention shifts away a split-second before Lena can hear the panel on the other side, beeping twice when the correct code has been entered.

Alex is the only agent that appears in the doorway, her face pale and drawn. "We're all clear out here," she tells them, gaze skating over the three of them in turn. "I told Maggie that we'd meet her at the DEO. You're all in one piece?" At the responding nods, Alex sets her hands on her hips, offers a tight smile. "We should move, then."

This time, there's no wait for a response before Alex is turning and disappearing back into Lena's office. Kara's on her feet first, taking a moment to smooth her hands down the front of her slacks before she turns and helps Lena to her feet. Stella doesn't budge or even acknowledge the move apart from twisting her hands tighter into the neck of Lena's dress. "You're okay," she promises as she follows Kara to the door. "We're safe, darling."

The office is clear when they step out into it, the only evidence of the violence that occurred being the dents on the cabinets along the far wall. There's no blood—or, at least, if there had been, it's been dutifully erased, but Lena brings her hand up to rest on the back of Stella's head just in case, ready to keep her from looking up and being further traumatized.

Jess steps out of the elevator just as the DEO team reaches it, guns immediately trained on the doors as they slide open. "Howell's office had the papers…" Jess trails off as she looks up, zeroes in on the weapons pointed at her. And, bless her, she calmly turns to face Lena, shutting down her tablet with a tap and asking, "Is everyone alright?"

"We are," Lena nods.

It's probably indicative of how many times this has happened, how many close calls they've weathered, because Jess knows the protocol; she collects her things from behind her desk and falls into step with Lena quickly, cancelling meetings and informing Lena as she does. "Through the weekend, Miss Luthor?" Jess's tapping on her tablet never ceases, already filling in the answer before Lena can confirm it.

The elevator ride is silent and Lena spends it splitting her attention between Stella and Kara; the agents that rode down with them step out first, then Alex. Jess follows, still swiping at the screen in her arms, only the tense line of her shoulders giving away her stress. Kara drops one hand low on Lena's back briefly before she steps out in front of her, pausing until Lena's left the elevator and then resuming her place a half a step behind her. Their group is halfway to the fleet of dark SUVs the DEO brought with them when Lena makes her decision. "Jess, please clear my schedule through the end of the month," Lena requests.

The rest passes in a blur. Lena's vision narrows to the Stella, still clinging to her, and to Kara, broadening only when Finn rushes her on the floor of headquarters, Maia just behind him. They're noticeably quiet, hugging Lena's legs and then gently around Stella when Kara helps her kneel. "Come here, come here," she murmurs, turning first to kiss Maia, then Finn. He breaks away first, looking very much like he would like to cry and Lena's heart drops low, lifts only a little when Finn turns and throws himself into Kara, already waiting with her arms open.

They have been very lucky, Lena knows—the attempts on her life have been few and far between since the kids came along; this was the first in Stella's lifetime, the first that Maia will remember. But Finn remembers the one that came before, the one that happened after years of silence, of nothing, the one that caught them unaware.

Lena wants nothing more than to pull all her children into her lap, hide away with them and Kara for as long as it takes until they feel safe again, but then Alex is coming back over and quietly telling them that the medical bay is ready for Stella, so she has to think it's enough that Kara picks Finn up with ease and cuddles him close. He's crying now, big heaving sobs that muffle anything he's trying to say, but Lena still hears the worst of it, the "—thought they killed you," that's wailed into Kara's shirt.

That's what sets Maia off—Maia, who seemed to know something was up, but not that, not something so serious. She stops in the middle of her sentence, already telling Lena about the science experiment she left halfway through from, and takes a long look at Lena, at Kara. When her gaze lands on Finn, Lena watches in suspended horror as her daughter's chin dimples, her little mouth twisting as big, fat tears start rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh no, love," Lena hushes gently, letting go of Maia in favor of brushing the tears away. "We're okay, Maia. Everyone's okay."

"Then why's Stella going to medical?" Maia manages through her sobs. "That's where Mama goes when she's hurt."

"I—." Lena looks up to catch Kara's eyes helplessly, finds her looking just as lost.

Kara shuffles over, slips her free arm around Maia and drags her into a hug as well; it seems to help a little, Maia being able to hug at least one of her mothers as tightly as she wants, seems to smooth over the fact that they don't have an easy answer to her question. Alex is waiting a respectable distance, letting them have their moment sprawled on the main floor of the DEO; agents scurry around, barely sparing them a glance. And Stella—little Stella's barely moved since they arrived, still wrapped around Lena's torso and quietly crying. God, Lena dreads trying to pry her off for the exam.

"Okay," Lena hears Kara murmur. "Stella needs to get a look over. Mommy and I need to be with her, so you can come with us or wait with Aunt Maggie."

Finn's head pops up off Kara's shoulder. "Can we watch Netflix?" he asks, shooting a sly look in Maggie's direction, tucked off to the side with Alex.

Maggie catches on that the question is more directed at her than to anyone else, and she nods quickly, grinning when Finn starts to smile at her answer. She breaks away from Alex, crosses the floor and crouches down next to the family. "We can finish Hook," she offers, resting her arms on her knees.

That seems to be enough to entice Finn to let go of Kara and reach for Maggie's hand. Maia hangs on, though, and Kara runs a hand down her back and asks, "You don't want to hang out with Aunt Maggie?"

Whatever Maia mumbles in response is too quiet for Lena's human hearing, but she sees Kara nodding, murmuring something in return. And then, louder, "Alright birdy, let's go then."

Maia's quick to let go of her mother, abandoning Kara in favor of attaching herself to Finn's side as he reaches out for her. Maggie herds them away quickly, flashing Kara and Lena a reassuring smile before she disappears into one of the break rooms with the kids.

Lena's busy listening to her son's voice slowly get drowned out by the renewed hum of the DEO; she doesn't realize that Kara's pushed off the floor until she appears in the corner of her eye, offering her hand.

The walk to the med bay is short, seeming shorter due to shock, Lena's sure. Alex beats them there and is shooing out the other people by the time Kara leads Lena in. She'd obviously had the room prepped while they were on their way to the DEO, a fact Lena's sure of if only because she knows Alex (and recognizes the chairs pulled up against the exam table as the comfortable ones from the lounge two floors up). Lena's entirely grateful for the chance to get off her feet—she hardly notices the weight of Stella hanging onto her anymore, but slowly and surely her back is starting to ache.

When the door shuts firmly behind the last of the strangers, Stella finally loosens her hold on Lena. "Hello little one," Kara coos when Stella peeks over her Lena's shoulder, relaxing even more at her mother's smile and calm tone. "Aunt Alex's gotta take a look at you, yeah?" Stella nods once, but her chin digs into Lena's shoulder when she shrinks back as Kara reaches for her.

The room stills. Lena looks back to see the hurt on Kara's face, the flash of guilt, to catch the way she draws in on herself and drops her hands into her lap. And, just past her, Alex is looking on with worry, brows knit together in concern.

"I'm going to step out for a minute," Alex announces quietly, dropping the papers in her hands onto the exam table. "I'll be out here," she nods to the hall beyond the doorway, "whenever you're ready."

Lena waits a moment, then another before she speaks, resting one hand lightly on Stella's back. "It's just Mama," she assures their daughter. "She's going to keep you very safe, you know that, love."

The careful way that Kara reaches out twists Lena's heart painfully. She brushes her fingers over Stella's small fist, still twisting the back of Lena's dress. The dress is probably wrinkled beyond salvation and Lena adds it to the increasing list of clothes she's lost by way of paint covered hands and unfortunate spit up incidents. "Oh," Kara says. "I don't—." The crinkle between her brows has appeared. "I think she's trying to protect you."

"What?" Lena glances down, sure that she's giving herself about twelve chins in the process and not caring in the slightest. Stella's tucked her face down again, but she looks up then, as if sensing Lena's gaze. Her eyes are still damp, wide and shiny under the fluorescent lights, but Lena recognizes the look she's throwing at her—she's seen the same reflected in Kara's eyes more times than she can count, all stubborn, all feet planted and arms thrown wide. Stella's so much like Lena that she sometimes forgets how much of Kara she has as well. How she takes after her in the infuriating, heart wrenching, heroic ways. "Oh," Lena breathes.

It would make sense; it would definitely fit with the tentative hypothesis Lena's formed about what powers Stella may possess. It would even explain the increased clinginess she'd exhibited that morning, only a few hours ago though it seemed like years.

Lena's nothing if not a scientist at heart. She takes the new information and tests it, brushing her lips over Stella's forehead and murmuring when she pulls back, "I'm safe, darling." She focuses on taking deep even breaths to mimic calm as she continues, "I know there were some bad men, but Mama kept us safe."

"And you were very brave," Kara adds, kneeling next to Lena's chair and smiling up at Stella. "You helped keep us safe, Stella, and I know today has been very scary, but do you think you can be brave just a little while longer?"

Stella gives no response for a beat and then, slowly, she nods into Lena's shoulder and relinquishes her hold around her mother's neck. And Lena's in awe, once more, of Kara's parenting, of her ability to soothe and guide and encourage all at once, a soft smile inching onto her face as Stella pushes up on unsteady legs, one hand pressing down on Lena's collarbone as the other reaches for Kara.

She'd climb over Lena's shoulder if allowed, probably giving Lena a black eye in the process, so Lena's entirely grateful when Kara jumps to her feet and collects Stella before she has the chance to lunge for her. Her daughter's weight hadn't been a burden, or, if it had, it was one that Lena was willing to bear infinitely; that said, she takes a deep breath for the first time today and stretches, quite pleased with the way her joints pop and release.

Stella settles against Kara with a content little sigh; whatever contentment she has gives way to a frown when Kara moves towards the exam table and away from lena.

Stella swings her wide eyes to Lena again and Lena sees the wind up, the jutting bottom lip and wobbling chin. "Hey, hey," she rushes to say, nodding to Kara as she shuffles her chair until she's pressed right up against the exam table. "I'm right here." Kara hops up onto the table, scoots over so that her knees are knocking against Lena's and Stella's as close as she can be without being in Lena's lap. "See?" Lena reaches out, offers her hand to Stella and smiles when her daughter takes it, wraps her small hand around a few of Lena's fingers.

Kara kisses the top of Stella's head, murmurs something in her native tongue—Lena's picked up a few things here and there, but some things—like this—are still lost to her. Stella seems soothed by it, though, her pout easing.

"Are you ready to be brave again?" Lena inquires gently.

Stella looks at her for a very long time, it seems. Finally, she nods.

...

Alex delivers the news hours later, once their home has been secured and the kids have passed out in a pile on Kara and Lena's bed.

They haven't even changed yet; Lena's still in her wrinkled dress, Kara in her slacks and blouse. There's a little blood stain on cuff of her pant leg that Lena hasn't noticed until now, and it takes a fair bit of effort to drag her eyes away from it.

An empath definitely, telepath maybe, with the potential for more psychic powers to develop as she ages, if the comparison of her brain scans with that of other aliens with similar powers was anything to go off.

From a planet that no one has ever been to, from a species that refuses to interact with the world.

"Quite frankly," Alex says, "I'm not even sure how Stella's here, considering all we know about Euphorians are that they have a literal planetary shield to keep anyone from entering or leaving."

There is a part of Lena that wants to ask questions, wants to press for next steps, battle plans and strategies (is this going to turn into an intergalactic incident? What are custody laws like for interplanetary relations? Do they need to be worried about war-mongering childless parents storming their door any day now?).

There is another part, larger and softer and so much louder, that can only remember the very first time she ever clapped eyes on Stella. She was small even for a newborn ("She can't be older than a few hours," Kara had told her, desperately pleading a case she'd already won), but she looked laughably tiny in Kara's arms, wrapped up neatly in her cape.

Lena will never be able to explain the feeling, not as long as she lives, but here are the best words to try: it was no different than when she'd first seen Finn or Maia, studying them as they were laid on her chest. There was the same awe, the same pull towards her, the same urge to hold the little infant her wife landed with.

These, Lena thinks, are all the reasons why the improbability of Stella's existence on Earth is the last thing Lena wants to ponder.

So instead she focuses on that feeling, on the way Stella's always been so quiet, always observing the world and the people around her so carefully. The details matter very little, Lena thinks and, judging by the way Kara's looking up through the ceiling with a soft smile on her face, her wife agrees wholeheartedly. Stella is theirs, end of story.

...

(Stella, the youngest and arguably weakest of her siblings, rules with an iron fist. Her moms discourage her from actively reading people's minds, which she takes into account, but is it really her fault if certain things just—pop up? Particularly if those certain things act as such good ammo against her siblings.

"Oh shut up Stella, you've always been a kiss up."

"Have not."

"Have to, Miss I-predicted-an-assassination-attempt!"

"Oh, geez, it'd sure be a shame if Moms found out about your D in math, huh Finn?"

"You're bluffing, there's no way you could—shit. Fucking mind readers, man."

"That's what I thought.")

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #meet the superbabies they are my pride and joy #superbabies

[fireflysummers]

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction

It Runs in the Family

“Will you tell me about him?” Minori asks eventually.

“Why?”

“We were trapped together in that world for so long, but at the end of the day I got to go home to my papa in a mansion. And I’ve wondered ever since if his world in that place wasn’t what he had to go home to.”

|| CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || Chapter 3 || AO3 ||

Teru sits, mind abuzz with conflict, face cradled in his hands as he tries to process everything.

For her part, Minori hasn’t tried to escape, instead finally taking a seat beside him on the swing. Her body language, however, makes it seem unlikely that she’ll open up voluntarily any time soon.

They let the cool evening envelope them, the bright moon hoisted into the sky amidst the stars. A breeze sweeps from the gardens below, and the swing creaks in protest. Minori shivers and pulls her legs up to her chest, hiding them entirely beneath her skirt.

How unladylike, Teru thinks, although without any real bile. There’s something…vulnerable about the position, as closed off as it is. He isn’t unused to holding positions of power over rivals and enemies, but Minori was neither. Despite the weight of her past actions, she had spoken with sincerity, and to lash back now would be wrong.

Knowing this did not put at ease his own angry thoughts.

It did not quell the nausea at the thought of Kageyama, dying alone at the hands of his enemies.

“You said earlier that you got into a fight,” Minori says, startling him with her initiative, “Was it Kageyama-kun?”

Teru remains silent for a moment, trying to quell the desire to be defensive.

Hypocrite. She hadn’t even accused him of anything yet.

But it feels so. It feels like there is an unspoken accusation, and he physically has to bite his tongue to stop himself from lashing out in reply. To argue that although it had been Kageyama, their two situations were nothing alike. That their fight was short-lived, that Kageyama had never been in any actual danger, that he wouldn’t have bullied him to death.

Except he doesn’t know that, does he? And that’s the scariest part, looking back and realizing that he could very easily have been that bad.

It’s terrifying to see how thin was the line he walked.

He’s been silent for too long.

Glancing over, Teru has the impression that Minori really isn’t expecting one. She sits, arms curled around her knees, an expression that implies that she’s still fighting back tears.

In a rush of empathy, he finds himself wondering if she gets fevers whenever she loses.

“Yes,” he says, his voice unexpectedly husky, “There was a scuffle. I’m not even sure how Kageyama ended up in the middle of a turf war, but there was a scuffle between the rival gangs and he was the last man standing.”

“Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, he decided to lecture me about not using my powers on other people.” Minori chokes out a watery laugh, and although he can feel the rush of shame and embarrassment rising, he’s surprised to find that the laughter does not add to it.

“He was the first person who saw me—the real me, the one that not even I liked. You can imagine how that went.” Teru finds himself mimicking Minori’s position, drawing his legs up to his chest so that he can bury his face in something to hide the shame that comes with remembering. “He wouldn’t fight back. I did…some really awful things, trying to force him to fight back. I don’t understand why he forgave me.”

“I’m terrible,” he mumbles, mostly an afterthought to himself.

“Well, we have that much in common,” Minori replies, “Must be something else that runs in the family.”

He lets the silence fall again, but there’s less tension, as though simply recounting the event was enough to tear down the wall between them.

“Will you tell me about him?” Minori asks eventually.

“Why?”

“We were trapped together in that world for so long, but at the end of the day I got to go home to my papa in a mansion. And I’ve wondered ever since if his world in that place wasn’t what he had to go home to.”

Teru studies her face for a moment, searching for some ulterior motive. His cousin, however, showed no signs of this, returning his gaze steadily.

“Kageyama-kun is…incredible,” he answers at length, “I feel bad for anybody who attempts to bully him. He has friends and family…allies even, with people he barely knows from all around the city.  I don’t know where he finds them, to be honest, but he’s inspired so many people to try harder and be better. He acts like he’s lucky to be tolerated, without realizing how loved he is.”

“I’m glad.” Minori has relaxed ever-so-slightly, her knees no longer drawn so tightly to her chest. A small smile plays at the corner of her lips. “I’m so glad that in this world he’s loved.”

“Yeah,” Teru says, a soft smile of his own beginning to form. “He is.”

“Especially by you, it seems.”

It takes Teru three beats before his mind catches up to Minori’s blunt statement.

“What!?” It comes out more of a squawk than a word. He’s glad for the shadows that hide the color rising into his cheeks.

Minori stifles a giggle, apparently finding amusement in his distress.

“What you mean you don’t?”

“Of course not,” Teru snaps, a little more vehemently than necessary. Minori’s gleeful grin only widens.  He thinks, briefly, of how familiar and unfamiliar it looks on her—every bit the mischief he’d known her for in their youth, and yet untainted by the usual malice. “Kageyama-kun is my first, real friend, so of course he’s very important to me.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” she says, eyes gleaming. “Because, since you got there first, I wanted to give you fair warning—I’m not planning on losing to you.”

Teru opens his mouth, but this time catches himself before he another strangled noise escapes his mouth.

“But since you don’t feel that way about him, you probably won’t mind too much,” she continues, and he can tell from the way she looks at him that she knows, perhaps with more certainty than he had, up until that moment.  

“Hold on a second…” he says, finally managing a semi-coherent sentence. “I didn’t—what I mean is, what?”

Minori is on her feet now, with far more pep than before. She pats down her dress, straightening the wrinkles and stretching her legs before turning back to face him.  The smile is less maniacal, less finding glee in his confused mess of emotions…more sincere. And for some reason that’s all the more terrifying.

“I want to get to know Kageyama-kun better. I want to apologize to him again, and thank him for saving me.  Not just from the spirit, but in everything else,” she says, “I want to show him that I’ve changed too. Maybe then, if I can do that…I can tell him how I feel.”

“This feeling…I don’t really know what it is. But it looks like it runs in the family…and I’m not going to loses to you, dear cousin.”

With a motion too quick for Teru’s backlogged mind to follow, Minori flicks him gently on the nose, as if to rouse him out of his stupor. But before he can respond, she flounces off towards the waiting party.

Before entering, though, she pauses again and turns back to him, illuminated by the light of the inner room.

“Thank you, Teru,” she says, and after a quick wave vanishes from his sight.

Several minutes pass in silence before Teru finally responds.

“Wait, what??”

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp 100 #asagiri minori #hanazawa teruki #my art #my fanfiction

[sirivsoblvck]

a small collection of moments

&;;come into the world, alone. ”it’s a boy.” the news is delivered over the squealing cries of a baby boy by a solemn midwife. walburga black simply nods, black locks sticking out in all directions – she can be likened to some sort of mad scientist – and ushers the woman out with an airy wave of her hand. she is only glad to be done with the birthing process.

(the baby is not held by his mother for approximately seven minutes and thirty-six seconds after entering the world, all of which are spent screaming while the midwife attempts to clean him. it is not necessary for him to cry for all seven minutes and thirty-six seconds, but he does so anyway.)

orion black awaits the birth of his son in his study, joining walburga in the birthing room they’d had prepared in grimmauld place only after being summoned. he stands in the doorway and looks upon his spouse and their firstborn child. ”he is healthy,” the midwife informs him from walburga’s bedside. orion nods, crosses the room, briefly looks the baby over, and grumbles his approval. as he leaves the room, walburga hands the child back to the midwife; she has had enough for one day and desires rest.

november 3rd, 1959 is a normal, ordinary tuesday – there is nothing special about it. but for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, november 3rd marks the day the heir enters the world. he is born after a grueling thirty-six hours of labor for walburga black (he comes to relish that fact as he grows older), and he is immediately thrust into the life of a proper pureblood. he is primarily cared for by the midwife who helped deliver him, rarely being held by his mother and even less frequently by his father. there is a pureblood celebration of sorts a mere week after his birth to introduce the heir, and nearly every pureblood family attends. walburga holds her son for the entirety of ten minutes – orion musters up the audacity to pat his full head of hair – before he is handed off to someone else.

&;;toujours pur. a five year old sirius black sits in his father’s study, staring up at the motto emblazoned on the family crest above the mantel. since learning to speak, he has been told that that is the most important phrase he will ever know, although he hardly understands it. always pure. it has little meaning for him, yet he knows not to question it.

”pay attention, sirius!” there is the sharp crack of a book being slammed down in front of him, and sirius jumps. he shifts and straightens, raising his gaze to – almost – meet that of his mother. ”now, shall we try again?” walburga’s harsh features fill sirius’ field of vision, and he averts his eyes.

”yes, mother,” he responds obediently, slowly opening the copy of Magick Most Pure that had been placed before him.

&;;i am a wicked child. it occurs when sirius is six years old – six and a half, if you ask him. he is not allowed to have pudding yet again, and he thinks he should. in fact, he thinks that if he had a different family, he would be allowed to eat pudding all the time, whenever he wants. so, naturally, sirius decides to run away. he tries to convince regulus to join him, but regulus is only five; he’s practically a baby and he doesn’t understand. ”we can’t! mother’ll be mad at us!” so, sirius bids farewell to his younger brother and packs a hasty knapsack full of crackers, what biscuits he finds in the kitchen, and a couple of galleons that are hidden in a little wooden box in his room. he manages to slip out of his room and leave number twelve grimmauld place undetected. it is the first time he’s ever been out of grimmauld place without an adult. it is also the first time he explores any of muggle London.

sirius makes his way down the street, around the corner, down another street, and somehow darts across to a park that is surprisingly close to where he has grown up. there are children running about and squealing with delight as they scale a colorful playset. sirius watches them for a minute, a grin stretching across his face. he has never played with children his own age who aren’t his brother, so he excitedly drops his knapsack and runs over to join the fun. he darts up the little steps, flings himself down the slides, chases a girl in a pink romper with pigtails (she says he has cooties when he most certainly does not), and even falls and scrapes his knee on the woodchips. but sirius’ favorite thing are the swings. he imagines real flying to feel something like this. he closes his eyes to focus on the swoop in his belly as he accelerates forward, feet gliding through the air. he sits on the swings for a very long time – the sky is almost dark by the time he opens his eyes – and just swings.

it is orion black who finds sirius huddled under the bridge of the playset stuffing his mouth with biscuits. sirius freezes when he sees his father. orion only has to motion for the boy for him to jump up, brush himself off, grab his knapsack, and follow him home, head hung in shame. he is hardly through the front door when walburga starts yelling. sirius’ eyes remain locked on the floor between them, stumbling only slightly when his father pushes him forward. orion says something to walburga, and she falls silent – though only for a moment.

”a muggle park? you were at a muggle park?” a beat, then, “answer me!” sirius only nods. walburga reaches down and grips tightly onto the boy’s arm; he bites his lower lip. ”muggles are worthless! insolent! obtuse! filth! no son of mine will be dirtied by filth!”

sirius is not sure where the sudden audacity comes from, but he opens his mouth and says, ”but they’re not bad ‘cause they played with me! like they’re my friends or somethin’!”

walburga’s lip curls into an almost snarl, and she jerks sirius forward by his arm. ”never say that again." but before sirius can say anything else, his mother’s wand is drawn, pointing at him. he doesn’t even hear what she says. he only knows that, suddenly, he is on the floor and he is crying and there is pain everywhere and he can’t understand just what is so horrible about muggles.

&;;and a lionheart. ”ah, a black. i know where i usually put your lot. but where to put you? you could be in slytherin, yes, but you’re intelligent, too. and loyal, yes. very loyal. perhaps hufflepuff... but no, i know just where to put you...

”GRYFFINDOR!”

&;;i can tell that we are gonna be friends. ”do you really think so?” peter, james, and sirius are huddled together on james’ bed, sirius and peter with their eyes fixed on the other boy. james gives a solemn nod, exchanging a glance with sirius.

”it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he asks the other two. neither of them say anything. ”so what if he is? it’s remus, for merlin’s sake! what’s remus gonna do?”

again, silence.

then sirius shifts and glances down at the book they had swiped from the library; it is opened to the page entitled LYCANTHROPY. he stares at it, taking in the word, recalling everything he been taught as boy about werewolves and half-breeds, in general. he is scared.

”i guess…” peter starts quietly, drawing sirius’ attention, “it doesn’t really matter… it’s still remus, isn’t it?” james nods with a little smile.

it is a long moment before sirius nods, as well.

&;;but mistakes are made. sirius thinks it's all quite funny, really. snivellus deserves it. he's going to get what's coming to him, and sirius really does think it's funny. in fact, he's quite proud of what he's accomplished. he is grinning to himself as he strolls up to the dorms, hands tucked in his pockets.

"what're you so smug about?" james asks, looking up from his spot on his bed. sirius shrugs, grin plastered across his face. "c'mon, i wanna know! lemme in on whatever you've been doing!" sirius can't deny him that.

"oh, it's nothing," he says casually, giving an airy wave, "i've just played the most brilliant prank on ol' snivelly is all." james perks up and sirius feels a sense of accomplishment.

"oi, don't hold out on me, black! what'd you do? details! i need details!"

so sirius tells him. he tells him about how snape was being a right prick. he tells him about how he was snooping around and sticking his abnormally large nose in their business. he tells him about how he was asking about remus, about where he was ("conveniently missing on the full moon again"), about how this brilliant idea just came to him. and he tells him about how he told snape the way to find out the truth about remus was through the passage beneath the whomping willow.

"you did what?!" james turns white and calls him a bloody idiot and shoves past him, and it takes sirius a few minutes before he figures out just what he did wrong.

&;;i really fucked it up this time, didn't i, my dear? sirius has always known that he doesn't belong in the black family. part of him has known that he would end up leaving, but he never expected it to be like this.

"you don't have a choice in the matter, sirius." orion is seated behind the desk in his study, walburga standing beside him. they are both staring at their eldest son, whose fists are balled at his sides. "it has already been decided." the dark lord. sirius was to join the dark lord, join his cause, support him like the proper black heir he was. but sirius doesn't want that. he has never wanted that. he has never wanted what they want. he has never wanted any part in their ideologies of pureblood supremacy. sirius glares at his parents, then shakes his head.

"no. no, i'm not doing it." walburga's wand is drawn, pointing at sirius, but sirius doesn't even flinch this time. "no. i won't do it. you can't--"

there is a flash of light, and sirius feels a sting on his cheek and the warm trickle of blood. orion has looked away, but he says, again, "you don't have a choice," and sirius, again, shakes his head.

"i won't! you can't make me! i'll--"

"I WON'T STAND TO HAVE A BLOOD TRAITOR IN MY HOUSE!"

&;;dog days are over. sirius knows that he doesn't have a choice. there is no way he can't not fight for what's right, so he decides to join the order of the phoenix without hesitation. dumbledore asks, and he agrees. he doesn't see any other option. it's either this, or let people like those he grew up with take control. and he knows all too well what kind of hell that would be. so, sirius decides to fight, no matter what that means.

#{ & the story } #{ & headcanon } #sirius black #{ & unwritten }