#and if you consider the light novel if she drops everything to care for him when he gets sick

[runningfrom2am]

no drinks, no pools, no molly. (r.c)

summary: five times rafe cameron tried to ask you out, and the one time it worked.

this is an About Time!au (that's is my fave movie of all time and if you haven't seen it i highly recommend it if you like laughing and sobbing at the same time)

tags/warnings: you might cringe (a real warning), soft(ish)!rafe, def fanon!rafe, swearing? fluff! underage drinking

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 4.6k (yikes)

recommended listening: about time theme, friday i'm in love

note: please please please if you haven't seen the movie at least give the theme a listen, while you read this or on its own but i promise it'll make your heart melt it's so adorable, i listened to it through most of the writing process and it made me want to cry sooo

Rafe Cameron has a flawless reputation. Tainted only by his better-than-thou attitude, as some perceive it- but always kind, always caring. Suspiciously so, to many, considering his semi-popularity, but that has never bothered him. He's a "stop and smell the roses" kind of guy, making him insufferable to some, but not to you.

It's not like you two are close friends, but he's had a seemingly hopeless crush on you for years at this point. He sees you almost every day at the country club in the summers, and lucky for him, you usually have two or sometimes three classes together at the academy on the mainland during the rest of the year. He thinks you're just about the most beautiful girl in the world- if he had to guess. The way the light reflects off your hair in the sun as you lay on a beach chair by the pool with a drink in your hand, making it look so soft and so shiny he's just dying to touch it, leaves him in awe every time.

After much encouragement from his sisters, he's decided it's time to act on this crush. After years, he still doesn't know if he can. Even if he has nothing to lose.

What everyone doesn't know about Rafe and his reputation, is that he has lived two lives. His dad told him when he was eighteen that by some miracle the men in his family could travel back in time, and his sisters could never know. All he had to do was simply stand in a dark, enclosed space and close his fists at his side- picturing the moment he wanted to go back to in his mind. Then, he would find himself there. He didn't believe it at first, believing his dad was pulling the wool over his eyes, but he tried it that night anyways- and was shocked to find himself in yesterday's clothes with his previous day's breakfast sitting on his desk waiting for him.

This changed everything, and he really never had anything to lose- but that didn't make the terrifying concept of talking to you any easier.

One:

"Go, Rafe! Go talk to her. Just be yourself." Sarah is pushing him in your direction and he stumbles a little on his feet, cheeks burning hot from nerves working in tandem with the heat of the hot summer day. He almost drops his drink, glaring at her over his shoulder as she waves for him to move, smiling excitedly. He supposes now is as good a time as any- you're alone, sitting next to the pool on a towel with a novel in your hands and a tequila sunrise at your side. He wonders if that's your favourite as he hesitantly walks up, repeatedly glancing back at his sister who's giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?" Rafe says, clearing his throat as he stands over you, his shadow blocking the sunlight from your eyes as you lift your sunglasses.

"Hey, Rafe. How's it going?" You smile, settling your glasses in your hair.

"Oh, uh, pretty good," Rafe replies, and you nod with a smile, almost like you're waiting for him to continue. "Can I join you?" He asks, gesturing to the empty chair beside you.

"Of course!" You grin, patting the empty seat.

"Sweet, cool- thanks..." He says, mostly to himself as he steps around you and between the chairs, going to sit down when he stubs his toe on the leg of the reclined sun chair.

"Ow, shit!" He hisses, instantly recoiling and in the process, dumping his drink all over you.

You gasp, quickly sitting up and shaking off your book, hoping it's not too damaged along with your white swimsuit that is now stained red with the grenadine in his drink.

"Oh, oh god- I'm so sorry, Y/N, I-" Rafe panics, the pain in his foot suddenly gone as he looks you over.

"It's fine, Rafe. It happens." You chuckle a little, but he can tell you're not pleased as you desperately shake your book.

"Uh, here, I'm so sorry-" He says again, grabbing a towel from the table next to you to try and help dry you off, but realizes too late that your drink is balanced on the edge of it and he spills it, once again onto your lap.

You fly up out of your seat, jumping a little at the cold and brushing the ice cubes off your lap. Now your bathing suit and book are most definitely ruined and you groan at the thought of having to repurchase your favourite book, which you've read no less than seven times now. "Shit.." You mumble, more to yourself.

"God I'm so sorry, I just-" Rafe is absolutely humiliated, he doesn't even know what to say as his cheeks are red hot from having most definitely blown any shot he's ever had with you. He gets up and quickly takes off towards the clubhouse, running out of the situation as fast as possible. You watch him in confusion, laughing a little as he leaves you awkwardly standing by the pool with a newly tie-dyed bathing suit.

"Ouch..." Wheezie grumbles, sipping on her own drink as he watches Rafe run away.

"Where is he going?" Sarah says, wincing a little as she looks at you as well, giving you a quick awkward wave since your eyes landed on his sisters, hoping for any answers.

"No clue, but after that trainwreck, I'd be running too." Her sister answers with a slight laugh.

When Rafe gets inside, he slows to a quick-paced walk since he knows he's not allowed to run inside. He's got a firm destination in mind- the broom closet in the locker room.

Two:

Rafe is standing on the back porch at one of Kelce's parties, admiring the way you hold your drink with both hands as you stand by the pool with some of your friends, talking over the music. They scare him, sure, but not as much as you do. Even though he knows you're not a mean person, at the same time he has to acknowledge that they, your friends, will be his harshest critics if he tries to make any moves on you.

"Dude, just go talk to her, this is ridiculous at this point," Topper says to him, nudging his shoulder. "It's hard to watch, honestly. Just, here, take this- then go talk to her."

His friend is holding a shot glass up to him, holding some nondescript clear liquid. "Liquid courage, man, what's the worst that could happen?"

Rafe nods, trying to hype himself up. He glances over your way again, sighing to himself at how pretty you look. How pretty you always look. He swallows his pride and takes the shot, shivering at the bitter taste and handing the glass back to Topper as he wipes his mouth, coughing in the process.

"Okay, now, go ask her out, the worst she can say is no." His friend is encouraging, but Rafe isn't worried about what you'll say, so much as what he'll do to embarrass himself this time. He's lucky he's the only one who remembers the country club incident that happened just a week prior.

Rafe smiles nervously at his friend and adjusts the collar of his shirt, walking down the stairs of the porch and heading in your direction. He stops halfway and abandons his half-finished drink on the stairs. He's not risking that again.

"Hey." Rafe clears his throat as he walks up to you and your friends, but it seems that no one heard him over the music. "Uh, hey, guys." He says again, slightly louder this time and grabbing their attention.

"Rafe! Hi." You smile, seemingly excited to see him and you quickly give him a hug. He's shocked, but hugs you back. "How are you? I haven't seen you around this week!"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I've been pretty busy." He lies, smiling at you nervously. He tries to relax as he takes in your intoxicated state, knowing you're having fun, and not taking much seriously.

"Sarah said you've just been locked up at Tannyhill all week." Your friend laughs a little, making him blush.

"I mean, yeah I wasn't feeling well. Had a bad cold." He pats himself on the back for the quick save, but that is cut short as you take a subtle step back, smiling at him awkwardly and shifting your body language after having just hugged him. Shit, he knows how anxious you are about getting sick. "I mean, not bad, I think it was probably allergies. Nothing contagious, I don't think." He scrambles to backtrack.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better." You say, carefully eyeing him up and down. God, now you must think he's gross. Great.

"Thanks." He smiles. "Uh, can I grab you another drink? I'm empty-handed; at Kelces parties that's a sin." Rafe chuckles, trying to change the subject as he notices your almost empty cup.

He's hoping to get you away from the watchful eye of your friends, and it seems to work as you smile and nod. "I'll be right back." You say to your friends, stepping back to squeeze past them as he joins your side. Now is his chance.

"So, uh, I was actually wondering if-"

"Rafe! Buddy!" He hears someone yelling at him excitedly, their tone getting louder as they approach quickly.

"Kelce, h-hey!" He says, just as his friend reaches his side, shoving into him as he suddenly comes to a stop at the edge of the pool. He wraps an arm around Rafe's shoulder and uses him to steady himself- but unfortunately, Rafe is the wrong person for this.

He stumbles back with the weight of another teenage boy against him, bumping into you and you lose your balance. "Oh, shit- Y/N, be careful." He laughs a little, turning to make sure you're okay, slamming his elbow into your side and pushing you into the water by accident. He didn't realize how close you were still standing to him.

Rafe freezes, his jaw-dropping as suddenly everyone in the vicinity is watching. "Oh, shit!" Kelce laughs, nudging Rafe again as he stands there slack-jawed. He looks briefly over to your friends who are crouched down at the edge of the pool now, shouting your name and ready to pull you out. You gasp as you come out of the water, frantically pushing your hair out of your face. Your makeup is ruined, and no doubt your hair as well. Rafe could tell you put time into how you would look tonight.

"Y/N! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" He says, finally snapping back to reality. He crouches down as well to try and help, but you look at him only briefly before swimming over to your friends.

"That's rough, bro." Kelce laughs quietly at Rafe, who's standing back up, defeated now. "Hope you weren't trying to hit that."

"Do you have a walk-in pantry?" Rafe quickly asks him.

Three:

No pool this time. That's for sure. They seem to be bad luck for Rafe, and this time, as he looks at the small gift bag he hid under the table of other gifts for you on your birthday, he knows he just has to get you alone to open it. Your friends were throwing you a big party at Molly's house, and invited everyone on your side of the island. It was big, after all, you were the kook princess- but Sarah seems next in line for the title.

It's proving to be difficult, though, since there are about fifty other kids here- and you're the star of the show. As always. This doesn't bother him, though, not at all. You deserve it, and he can't wait to be on the planning end of all your birthday parties for the rest of your lives.

"Y/N/N! Let's do presents, yeah? I can't wait for you to open mine." Molly smiles at her best friend, guiding her over to the firepit area next to the gift table. Rafe is all ears, confident with his hiding place as he makes his way over too, sitting a couple of seats down so you'd have room for your friends as well. Not everyone wanted to watch you open your gifts, that seemed like a childish thing, almost, so the party just continued around you.

"Rafe, how are you?" You asked him with a smile while your other friends sat down. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm good, yeah. Happy birthday, by the way." Rafe replies, fiddling with a stray thread on the hem of his shorts. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course! It wouldn't be a party without you." You giggle, about to speak again when Molly is thrusting a box in your lap, wrapped with pink paper and a glittery bow.

"Here, this one first- it's from Ava and Maya." She explains, even though you're already reading the attached tag. You nod, looking over to the two girls.

After about forty minutes of Rafe watching you open gift after gift, he's getting nervous. He didn't get you anything extravagant, only a small bracelet with a little note. He didn't want you to think he was crazy, or weird.

He looks over just as you help tuck away the last of the garbage into an empty bag, not wanting to leave a mess on your friend's lawn. He's sure that the whole time you were opening gifts, you didn't let a single piece of stray wrapping paper or tape hit the ground. You were so considerate.

"Hey, wait- Y/N/N, here's another one. I think this is it." Molly says, walking over and dropping the small bag into your hands.

No, no- god, you can't open this in front of so many people. Rafe's hands start to shake as he watches you helplessly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as you carefully pull out the small box. You smile softly as you turn it over in your hands, and maybe, Rafe thinks, it will be fine. Maybe you'll open it and then love it and read the card and nod at him with that beautiful smile he knows so well, and then he'll finally have his chance.

"Who's it from?" He's pulled quickly from his daydream as he watches you open the now unwrapped box, smiling wide and placing your hand over your chest. "That's beautiful, Y/N/N." Molly smiles, crouched next to her best friend as she stares over the delicate bracelet as well.

"It is..." You sigh softly, placing it back down gently in the box.

"Yeah, who is it from?" Molly asks again, taking the bag and digging out the card. Rafe wants to speak up but he can't, knowing that would incriminate himself further. He's frozen as she opens it, his hands getting clammy as she starts reading it out loud without scanning the intention of the letters first. 

"Dear Y/N." She smiles, confident as she continues reading and Rafe sinks back in his seat, pulling his shirt up to cover his nose. "Happy birthday to the most beautiful girl on the island. I wouldn't doubt it for a second if someone told me you were the most beautiful in all the world." She reads and you pout, blushing as you clutch your hands to your chest, all your friends going "aw" along with Molly, who's taken a pause in her reading to gush over how sweet that is. "Anyway, I'm hoping you'll let me take you out for dinner later this week, I'd really love to get to know you better." She continues, pausing a little before quietly reading off the final line. "Love always, Rafe..." She trails off, looking back over her shoulder at him.

Not everyone heard his name, but even her looking at him was enough to send everyone else watching the signal nonetheless. "Wait, Molls, why would you read that out, that was meant to be private, I think..." You whisper to her, guilt crossing your features as you look nervously between her and Rafe.

"Oh... oops." Molly replies, looking back at Rafe again apologetically. "Rafe, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine, uh, yeah it's cool. I, Uh, I've got to- yeah..." Rafe says, getting up quickly and heading for the door of the house.

"Rafe! Wait!" You call after him, handing the box and the note back to your friend and getting up to follow him quickly. You get inside just as you hear the bathroom door close, sighing a little to yourself. You'll wait here for him to come out so you can talk, and this will give you time to think over the best way to apologize.

As the light flickers off in the bathroom, Rafe knows he can't face you after that, quick to clench his fists at his sides and think of that morning- wishing that the whole thing never happened.

Four:

"How much do you know about Y/N?" Rafe asks his friends, watching you tee off on the hole ahead of them. The way your tennis skirt matches your headband makes his head honestly spin, you're so intentional with every outfit you wear- he thinks it's adorable. No one on the island dresses as well as you, in his opinion.

"What do you mean, like, how she is in bed? You'd have to ask her ex." Kelce laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

"No, obviously not." Rafe blushes. "Like, what kind of guys does she even like?"

"Why, you gonna ask her out?" Kelce laughs a little, stopping as he sees that Rafe is serious. "Oh- I mean, her ex was a total douchebag, so that's a good place to start. Apparently, she likes assholes."

Rafe nods a little, watching you drive off in the golf cart with your friends. He knows that so far trying to be himself has had a zero percent success rate, so maybe it's time to try a different approach. He can be more of the guy he is when he's alone with his friends, emulating a much more masculine, fuckboy vibe. The worst that could happen has already happened, twice.

On the last hole, with a few more drinks of what Topper called "liquid courage", he flattens the creases out of his jeans and jogs up to catch up with you. "Hey, ladies- can I borrow Y/N for a sec?" He asks your friends, not waiting for a response before continuing. "Thanks- 'preciate it."

He strides up to you as you and your friends look between each other in confusion. This isn't the Rafe you normally know, who you've grown to have a crush on. You take a few steps away with him, but not enough to be out of earshot from your friends, they obviously know about your secret feelings for the boy, and would love to listen in.

"Hey, so, uh," He stammers a little, quickly trying to get back on track with his attitude. But the way you're looking at him with your big, beautiful eyes as you smile at him expectantly, nervously almost, is throwing him off. He's never been this confident around you. "My friend really likes you, but I told him I'd ask you out first to see if you're worth it." He smirks, shifting his weight on his feet.

Your face falls- and you look hurt. He feels a pang in his chest. He did this to you, maybe Kelce's advice was bad after all. Your friends gasp, obviously hearing everything. "That is the rudest thing I have ever heard!" Your best friend, Molly, yells at him, quickly stomping over to you while you try and figure out what to say.

"Is this some sick prank?" Molly says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and looking at you closely as you can't fight back the tears.

"I- wait, wait, no! I- I'm sorry I just-" Rafe tries to defend, shaking his head quickly and holding his hands up to the two of you.

"Get out of here, you prick!" She says, accentuating her desires by throwing her drink in his face.

Rafe wipes the drink out of his eyes, turning quickly and making a break for his friends. He can't save this situation now- he just had to escape.

"That was unbelievable!" Your other friend says as you get back to the golf cart, sitting down and wiping your tears.

"What a fucking loser." Molly adds, shaking her head as she watches him run away.

Rafe is met with his friends laughing hysterically at him, taking in the sight of his soaked polo shirt up close. "Dude- what did you say to her?" Topper laughs and Rafe grumbles as he sits in the cart, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Let's just go back to the club." He mutters, that same broom closet calling his name yet again.

Five:

No drinks, no pools, and now, no Molly. Rafe figures his best move at this time is to just text you. He doesn't have your number, not yet, but he does have your Instagram- and the DM feature seems like his most viable option, at this point.

rafecameron: hey, how are you?

yourinstagram: i'm good!! how are you?

Rafe is surprised he gets a response back so quickly, sitting up straighter at the kitchen island, where he's sitting eating his lunch.

rafecameron: i'm good. enjoying the summer so far. the weather has been perfect for wakeboarding.

God, the weather? Could he bring up anything more boring? He scolds himself mentally as he sees that she's typing, his leg bouncing a mile a minute on the stool he's sitting cross-legged on, his bowl of cereal left forgotten in front of him.

yourinstagram: that's awesome :) i haven't got much surfing or wakeboarding in this summer yet unfortunately, just haven't thought about it much i guess

At least she's trying to make small talk, Rafe assumes that's a good sign. It's perfect, actually- he can offer to take you out boating, especially if you haven't had the chance yet.

rafecameron: i have the boat tomorrow if you're free? we could grab drinks or something at the club after

Rafe sends the message and quickly places his phone upside down on the counter, but he can't resist lifting it again as soon as his phone buzzes.

He furrows his brow as he's seen you sent a photo. He opens the text thread, blood draining from his face when he sees the screenshot of this exact conversation pop up along with a message.

yourinstagram: *photo* yourinstagram: OH MY GOD MOLLS- I THINK RAFE IS ASKING ME OUT???

Clearly, that wasn't meant for him- but that doesn't make it any easier to read. He has to assume that's a bad thing- that you're trying to figure out, with the help of your best friend, how to let him down easily.

Rafe groans and tosses his phone back onto the counter, leaving it to go up into his windowless walk-in closet and take back that he texted you at all.

Six:

At the annual bonfire, Rafe is just wandering around looking for someone to talk to. His friends are busy throwing random things into the flames, seeing how high they could make the fire go. He lost interest very quickly. He's feeling down on his luck, after his five poor attempts at getting a date with you, even if no one else knows about any of them- not even you. Its embarrassment not fading, despite the summer passing quickly. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, everything happens for a reason, surely. That doesn't mean he wouldn't really like a chance.

He's standing at the keg, pouring himself another beer when he sees you. You're off, a little in the distance all alone, walking along the shore and occasionally crouching down. He's confused for a moment as to what you're doing, but then he realizes- you're collecting seashells. Of course you are. It makes him smile a little to himself. Everyone around him is so concerned about getting drunk, high, whatever their vice is- but you just want to do your own thing.

He hands his cup off to a kid standing nearby who gratefully takes it, and starts his way down the sand to join you.

"Finding anything good?" He asks as he approaches you.

You're quick to stand up, turning to face him. "Oh, Rafe! Hey." You smile, looking down at your now long empty solo cup, filled almost to the brim with small seashells and pretty rocks. "Yeah, here." You hold out the one you just picked up, dropping it gently into his hand.

He cups the small shell in his hand and smiles, looking up at you again. "It's beautiful." He agrees. "Can I help?"

"Sure." You smile, nodding as you look up at him. The light from the distant bonfire falls right behind him, shining through his hair and his unbuttoned striped shirt. "I don't have a lot of room left, though." You show him the cup.

"Well, you're probably better at finding them than me. I can hardly see anything." Rafe chuckles, shrugging a little as the two of you continue down the beach, the music getting more and more quiet with every ten steps. You can only really hear the waves crashing beside you, despite the water being mostly calm.

You're both silent for a minute or two, scanning the ground for more shells. Rafe's mind is running a million miles a minute. Now's his shot, he's doing better than before- he hasn't offended you, spilled a drink on you, or pushed you into the ocean, everything is calm and there's no one around. Maybe he should make small talk first, bring it up later if you still want to talk to him by the end of the night.

"How's your-"

"So, I-"

You both start talking at the same time, making you both laugh. You count yourself lucky that he can't see how red your face is.

"You go first." Rafe insists, ready to listen to whatever you have to say. He could listen to you talk about anything, for hours; he's sure of it. He could never tire of the sound of your voice.

"Okay, well," You giggle, looking down and picking up a shell you catch a glimpse of in the moonlight. "I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime. Go for coffee, or something like that."

Rafe stops walking, staring at you and fighting back smiling like a crazy person. You wanted to hang out with him? After all this time, after all the energy he's put into trying to ask you out, you would have said yes this whole time?

"Like... like a date?" He asks, mentally slapping his hand against his forehead and trying to remember where the nearest bathroom or closet might be.

"Yeah, I mean, if you want." You reply, turning to face him fully.

He looks over your features as you smile at him, how the ocean breeze has pushed your hair over one shoulder and how a few shorter strands fly around your face. He nods, mouth dry as he tries to find the words. "Yeah, yeah I would love that." He agrees. "I, uh, I was actually going to ask you the same thing." He says, looking down as he kicks away some sand.

"You were?" You giggle. God, the sound of your laugh alone makes his heart beat faster.

"I only tried about five times over the course of the summer, could never make it to actually talking to you, though." Rafe admits, laughing slightly.

"Why not? I don't scare you, do I?" You laugh, tilting your head at him and brushing some hair away from where it's gotten stuck to your lips in the wind.

"Not anymore." Rafe grins, continuing to talk past you and you turn with him, joining his side again as he turns the seashell you have him over in his palm. This time, he wants to relive this night for all the right reasons.

taglist: @bookishbabyyyyy @madelynie, @mutual-mendes, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @ragingsammie, @ietss

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fluff #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafecameron #rafe fanfiction #outer banks #obx

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: The Morning After (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

The Morning After 

Image credit

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:    

The elusive 'morning after' a romantic night with a lover, whatever will Joker and Y/n get into? Now that they are set on dating and getting to know one another will anything separate them from that goal.

authors note:

Hello! Hello! I’m back with another update and I must say, I'm a humble girl at heart but I sob cry knowing that there's really that many people that enjoy my story! I intended this to only reach a few people, if any at all, yet here we are... It only makes me wanna write more! Did I mention this story is farrrrrr from over? 

Taglist!    

@blackreaderatrisk   @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angell

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Last Chapter  |  Next Chapter 

You were absolutely stunning.

A natural beauty amplified in the morning light. Joker was so lucky he woke up at odd hours of the night. He would have hated himself for all of eternity for missing this. You, fast asleep and looking drop dead gorgeous.

Sometime during the night you wiggled your way out of his hold and rolled over onto your back. Joker still kept you close, it seemed that he craved physical contact even asleep, and he threw a possessive arm over your waist.

You had created some space between the two of you but your face was the first thing he got to see when he opened his eyes.

Joker wanted to wake up to the sight of you everyday.

Your beautiful lips slightly parted to allow for soft puffs of air to escape. Your dark lashes fluttering every so often in a deep R.E.M., (he wished you were dreaming of him) and your soft skin was highlighted by a ray of sunshine flooding in from the window. You didn't like that and it almost roused you awake.

You grumbled and turned into Joker's chest resuming your slumber. Suddenly he became the teddy bear. My, how the tables turned in just a few short hours.

You sought him out for protection and clung to him in your most vulnerable state. That subconscious choice had Joker speechless. No one had ever relied on him before yet you did just that. Seeking out his comfort while vastly unaware of the reaction that tiny decision would forever have on him.

He took extra care not to wake you up as he located the room remote on the nightstand and programmed the automatic curtains to move and shield you from the rising sun.

You earned your rest and then some. Joker would make sure that nothing bothered you.

On top of being kidnapped, (and quickly rescued) you let Joker finally have sex with you. And the clown definitely made up for lost time. Freaking overachiever. He might've gone overboard yet he heard no complaints. You were exhausted both mentally and physically.

Joker didn't consider himself much of a savior but he would do everything in his power to keep you safe. Not much could disturb you in the penthouse but he wouldn't take any chances.

You entrusted Joker with your heart until he had to leave and shatter it into a million pieces.

But that was negative thinking. Who knows? Maybe he could find a way to lessen the pain before then.

Joker chose to focus on the positive. Live in the moment. That's all you have. He pulled you closer in his arms and fell back asleep, holding you tighter than ever.

You woke up disoriented, sore, and clutching a pillow for dear life.

You wiped your mouth knowing there was probably drool present with how well rested you felt. That was the best night of sleep you had in weeks.

Not much was said after Joker tucked the both of you into bed last night. You tried your best to say something heartfelt; you epically failed.

"You're stuck with me for five more months."

He said it with such confidence you wanted to believe it was true. That you finally had a chance with Joker.

Things were still unclear but hopefully you and Joker were on the same page going forward. Things seemed to be off to a good start. Joker physically slid right back into your life as if nothing had happened. It was the emotional aspect of things that you were worried about. You hoped you weren't moving too fast but then again there was a deadline here underlined in red twice.

Five months felt so short and the clock was already ticking..

There was so much you wanted to ask, experience, and talk about with Joker but right now his side of the bed was empty. You rose from your sleeping position, looking around the room for his presence and came up short. The room was quiet.

It was then you noticed the curtains were drawn but the sunlight still peeked out from the bottom. Dawn truly dawned on you.

It was the morning after and you were alone.

Greaaat, real classy. An empty bed totally screams positive relationship goals. You two were totally on the same page! You had the urge to toss a pillow in anger. How could you be so stupid to believe that Joker would take this seriously?!

"Don't overthink things Y/n. Maybe he went to the bathroom or some other lame excuse. Yeah, that would explain why he didn't wake up next to you after such a wonderful night together."

That's the lie you told yourself as you flung the covers back and stepped on the cold hardwood floors.

Fitting. It matched your current feelings towards a certain fugitive. You blinked back tears for even allowing Joker a chance with your heart. It really was just sex to him, no strings attached, and oh no...

You clutched your head trying to stop the bad thoughts from taking over but they kept appearing even as you struggled to breathe.

You needed privacy before this panic attack got too intense. You nodded to yourself and almost made it to your sanctuary but the aroma coming from your kitchen caught your attention.

It quite literally made you stop in your tracks to investigate.

You made your way through the archway that separated the common area of your penthouse from the private rooms. The sight that greeted you snatched every bad thought from your mind and tossed them straight in the trash.

"What are you doing?" You mumbled to your roommate.

Joker turned around so you could see the gaudy Kiss the Cook apron that Dick left a few BBQ parties ago hanging from around his neck. Joker opted out on wearing a shirt and his dark grey sleeping pants were hanging dangerously low on his hips, showing off muscle and V lines that you failed to notice before.

He brought the whole scene together by waving with a plastic spatula in greeting. "Hmm. Good morning Bunny."

Joker watched you sink into the barstool at the island counter wide eyed and speechless.

His green eyes scanned you from head to toe like he didn't see you every time he woke up this morning— which happened to be a lot.

He couldn't get over the fact that you and him were actually together. It was such a far fetched concept that it didn't seem real so Joker kept waking up in a cold sweat throughout the night thinking you weren't there. What if he didn't rescue you from the warehouse or worse? What if you died at that dumb charity event and his sick, twisted mind was making all of this up?

It wouldn't be the first time that his mind became his own worst enemy.

Joker woke up each time gasping for air hoping that his nightmare wasn't a reality, only to sigh in relief when he felt you in his arms.

He would squeeze you tighter (despite grumbling your displeasure of it in your sleep) and fell back asleep with his living teddy bear safe and sound. But the same nightmare would awake him again an hour later thus, repeating the cycle anew.

Broken sleep wasn't healthy but Joker was used to getting the bare minimum in order to survive.

He didn't want you to worry or worse, wake you. Joker had his demons and as much as he wanted to stay by your side and ignore them, solitude was the best remedy to clear his head. Well that and shock therapy, but he wasn't at Arkham Asylum anymore.

So he regretfully left you tucked in bed to roam the penthouse when he had the thought to treat you to breakfast. His thoughts always revolved around you. Funny how you caused his inner turmoil and was also the solution to rid them.

Joker couldn't get you out of his head though he feared the day he would no longer think of you.

A deafening silence in perpetual darkness. A different type of loneliness that Joker didn't want to return to. How could he return to his old ways after experiencing your blinding light? He would never be the same but that was something to worry about in the distant future.

He focused back on you, seated before him at the kitchen counter, trying to figure out what was going on. Joker cleared his throat and set about clearing the air.

"I had plans to bring you uh break fast in bed but it seems you're really too noisy for your own good." He eyed you briefly before turning around and flipping whatever he was cooking in the skillet over.

You blinked in shock as he set the utensil down and leaned on the counter, crossing his arms.

"How did you sleep?" He popped the letter p and waited for a response. You decided to answer his question with one of your own.

"You can cook?" You waved at the mess he made of your kitchen. "Like... actually.. cook?"

"Duh whatcha think I'm doing, Y/n? I got nothing on you but at least I can feed myself without burning the apartment down." Joker didn't break eye contact with you as he dragged the skillet off the burner and killed the heat.

A shiver ran up your spine. A man that could cook was a secret weakness of yours. It was hard to believe that Joker knew his way around the kitchen. Your mind was on tilt. "Uh I.. um.."

"Use your words Y/n." By the time you looked up, he was reaching to take something out of the cabinet. This domestic version of Joker had you weak in the knees. He didn't seem to notice.

"Do you like syrup on your pancakes?" Joker shook the bottle to gain your attention. You forgot to verbally say yes along with your nod, causing Joker to arch an eyebrow.

He slammed the cabinet shut and set the syrup down next to the plate of pancakes already cooked and ready to eat. You just now noticed them.

Fluffy golden brown cakes stacked high and glistening with melted butter like some fancy flapjack commercial. They looked too good to be true. Either this was a dream or Joker was trying to impress you. So of course you had to be dreaming.

You thought as much until Joker grabbed your chin from over the counter.

"What's floating in that pretty little head of yours hmm?" He loved that lost doey eyed look during sex but right now, not so much.

He slowly nodded his own head trying to urge you to speak with no success. You just stared at him so he let your face go with a sigh.

"AlrighTyyy then. Since you're incapable of speech, I'll talk. I found your pancake mix in the pantry and since you weren't, uh, waking up any time soon to make us anything. Tada." He gestured to his hard work. "It's.. it's magic. Now eat something so that brain of yours can start workin.' Here."

He scooped out the last pancake he made from the skillet onto your plate and dragged the larger serving plate closer for himself.

You were still speechless but glanced down at the fine china before you. It was your plum blossom set and it brought a smile to your face thinking back to the first time you served it to Joker all those weeks ago.

Funny how things changed but everything remained the same.

His pancakes didn't look poisonous and none of them were burnt either. (His first of many attempts were sitting at the bottom of the trash mocking him.) The ones before you looked perfectly normal and smelled yummy if your growling stomach had any say on the matter. Joker slid into the barstool next to you and loaded his own plate with food but kept an eye on you lost in thought. Did you hit your head or something? This silent treatment was unusual behavior even for you.

Right as he was preparing to force you out of your daze, you grabbed a fork and dug in. Joker would be lying if he said he didn't hold his breath waiting for your review.

You were chewing too slowly for his liking and he thought the worst when you suddenly glanced his way.

"These are delicious." You beamed.

"Well yeah. You did all the work, I just cooked the d__n things." So it wasn't as easy as he led you on to believe. Interesting..

You hid your mirth by hitting his arm. He bristled at the playful contact. "You know the rules, Joker."

It took him a minute to get what you were talking about but he rolled his eyes knowing all too well. "Sweetheart. I said a lot of bad words last night. Don't ya remember?"

He bit into his forkful of pancakes and smirked at your flushed face avoiding his eye. He dialed back his signature laugh into condescending chuckles, aimed at you.

"Don't go shy on me now, Y/n... you weren't last night when you kept begging me for more."

All the sinful things Joker whispered, groaned, and panted in your ear last night played in your head like a sports recap. You hated when he was right. You were practically begging for it but he didn't have to rub it in.

Joker turned out to be quite the sexual deviant and you just so happened to be his personal plaything until further notice.

You didn't mind. Joker took his job as a lover very seriously despite his apparent rough treatment of you. Another fact you discovered, Joker was verbal in bed. and he talked you through the most intense moments of the night with that silver tongue of his. Good Lord the things his tongue could do..

You cleared your throat, "I ah remember. But to answer your question, I slept very well and t-thank you for cooking."

Joker grunted in that weird way of his, this time it held a positive, don't mention it tone, as the two of you ate in silence.

You thought he would bring up what really made him ditch you in bed this morning but nope. Crickets. You honestly weren't surprised. Joker could avoid any topic when it benefited him. He wasn't the only one that ran away instead of facing his emotions. His 'I decided to cook breakfast' excuse didn't sit well with you.

You wisely kept that thought to yourself.

Thankfully Joker didn't seem to notice your lackluster mood (or so you thought) although he was rather quiet as the two of you finished up breakfast and he moved to collect the various plates and other tools he used.

As a peace offering, you volunteered to wash dishes and Joker immediately took you up on it.

He was dreading cleaning all of this crap. Why didn't you own a dishwasher? Probably another weird quirk of yours since you actually looked excited to manually wash dishes. He could tell by that ghost of a smile on your face. Yet your mood hadn't fully recovered.

Joker knew something was bothering you when you kept quiet as the sink filled with suds and hot water. He chose not to comment in case he was wrong with his assumption but when was he ever wrong? Uh never.

After you blindly handed him a knife to towel dry off, enough was enough. He felt insulted. You knew his track record with knives. Why hand him one? Before you could blink, Joker had you caged in between him and the kitchen sink with no way out.

Your soapy hands grabbed his arms on instinct. "J-Joker, what are you doing?"

Your eyes met his trying to understand what had gotten into him. His knowing gaze made you uneasy so you purposefully looked away.

"Oh. I see." Joker eyed you up and down, "Go ahead and get it off your chest Y/n."

You froze. How did he..?

"How'd I know you wanted to talk? C'mon sweetheart, that look on your face screams; I'm holding something back."

Joker watched you swallow and he glanced down at the marks he left on your neck. They were noticeable but still faint against your skin tone. He wished Wayne could see you all marked up and claimed. That annoying rich boy needed to know his place. Sometimes being a secret really sucked. Joker wanted all of Gotham to know that the two of you were together.

Would you be upset if he made an anonymous tv broadcast about it or leaked it to the Gotham Gazette? Joker knew saying anything would put you in danger but a man could dream.

There had to be a way. You stole Joker's attention away before he could think on it further. "I mean yeah I have questions but I doubt you'll answer them."

Joker visibly sighed. You didn't trust him in the way he wanted you to. Just what would it take?!

"Won't know if you don't ask, doll. Up you go!" Joker picked you up and plopped you down on the kitchen counter, ignoring your startled yelp.

He left you there shell shocked and mildly turned on to go drain the water in the sink. Dishes could wait, you were more important.

He dried his hands and yours before removing the apron he was wearing. Then Joker gave you his full undivided attention. Such a shame you were too busy ogling his abs to start asking him questions.

"Eyes up here princess." Joker said.

The endearment was new and it hit your core like an atomic bomb.

"Ohh Y/n! Did you just moan? I think you diddd." He walked up and settled in between your legs, smiling wide. Of course he noticed your reaction. Lovely.

Joker licked his lips in that distinctive way of his. He subconsciously missed his clown makeup.

You liked his natural bare face more. "N-No! I did not! Can you be serious for once?"

Rule number one: be careful what you ask for around Joker. His eyes clouded over and the temperature in the kitchen dropped a good ten degrees instantly. A serious Joker was scary. You were trapped on the counter with this unstable degenerate blocking your path.

And the danger excited you. His sharp eyes forced you to elaborate.

"I can't seem to understand how quickly you responded to rescue me. Don't get me wrong, I'm forever grateful, but Mac and Neo painted a clear picture that you never wanted to see me again. I mean, I went two weeks with absolute radio silence and that hurt Joker. I know I was the one who ran away.. but you let me go. Y-You encouraged me to! I know we sorta kinda settled things between us and I am willing to try this- try us out but..."

You stopped to take a deep breath. Your next words came out in a heavy sigh.

"How do I know for sure that your feelings are genuine? You said it yourself you suffered while I was away, that you still have voices and doubts in your head about me. It sounds like you're confused on how to proceed. You're still struggling with your emotions and I don't want to force you into something that you might not be ready for. If we need to slow things down or take another break I—"

"You are noT pushing me away just because you're the one too scared to jump all in." Joker cut you off.

His eyes were venomous green staring you down from his towering height. Even situated on the counter, Joker could make you feel so small. Deep down you actually feared him just a tad.

His palms squeezed your upper thighs as he came nose to nose with you. This is not how he wanted to tell you about his inner demons.

"None of that matters Y/n! I saw you get taken with my own eyes. What was I supposed to do? Sit back and watch as they killed you?"

He hissed the accusation in the combined space and you could smell the maple syrup enlaced with his words.

"Sounds like a normal Joker reaction to me." You commented.

Your response hurt more than it should. A few months ago that would have been true. But now? Now he had to feign indifference to save face.

"Sorry. Uh next time? when you get kidnapped, I'll sit back and take notes mkay? Whether you like it or noT, you're stuck with me, so no. I will not slow down ooor take a break. I have you all to myself and I refuse to let you go. Even if I don't know what I'm doin' you're not going anywhere."

By the end of Joker's speech his lips were hovering over yours. You could feel the truth and uncertainty in his words but you didn't have much to say as a rebuttal. He was willing to try something new despite the odds stacked against him.

Those expressive eyes of his held you hostage and you were unable to look away. They were begging for you to understand what he failed to say— what both of you were too scared to admit this early on.

So for now it was best left unsaid. Joker was leaning down to seal your lips with his when someone started banging on your front door.

Joker growled at the moment being ruined and was making his way to neutralize the noise when you ran after him.

"Joker, wait!"

You caught up to him near the dining room table. With a gentle hand on his chest you pushed him back. "You're a wanted fugitive, remember? Let me answer it."

He scoffed and pushed you aside. "Uh huh. A defenseless author with a target on her head wants to answer the door? You're asking for it now. Move."

He did have a point, however. "Joker I know that knock from anywhere it's not—"

"You got ten seconds to open this door or we're coming in!" A feminine voice hollered from the other side.

Joker eyed the door in newfound intrigue as the person began counting down. He returned your gaze when you answered his question. "It's Florence. Please. Go. Hide!"

Oh. A friend. Normal guests, not psychotic criminals trying to kidnap you. Joker was kinda disappointed.

Florence kept banging on the door in between her exaggerated countdown.

Your e/c eyes pleaded with Joker halfway between seven and five to leave. He almost put up a fight but retreated to his bedroom— out of sight, for the time being. You heard the bedroom door slam close and knew Joker wasn't in the best of moods after being interrupted.

He was finally opening up and giving insight to his inner thoughts and feelings until Florence came out of nowhere and forced him back into his shell. This tiny world you created with Joker in your apartment was just a façade. The world was still revolving and balancing Joker's existence and Gotham's would prove to be a difficult task.

Dealing with a grumpy Joker would be an even bigger one. That would have to be a problem to deal with later though. Right now Florence was on number three and louder than ever.

"Open the f___ing door Y/n! I know you're in there girl! We just wanna talk!"

Classic Florence to threaten you passive aggressively.

You took a deep breath and unlocked the door right as Florence got to one. To her left, Barbara was holding the only set of spare keys you had, save for the front desk copy downstairs and surprisingly Joker's set. How he came in possession of your keys was a topic to be revisited at a later date.

You greeted your friends. "Hey hi. What brings you—"

The Haitian woman shoulder checked you as she walked into your apartment. Barbara wheeled herself in, giving you a telepathic, 'she's pissed' warning glare in passing.

The redhead shook her head as you closed the door. You didn't have to read the room to know Florence was mad. You rubbed your aching shoulder. The message was well received.

Florence had her hands on her hips bringing attention to the body chain hanging snug around her waist. You saw the intricate beads, healing crystals, and evil eye charms attached to the gold chain, most likely made from a native from her home country.

Despite Gotham City's unpredictable weather, Florence wore a crop top and wrap skirt complete with impressive lace up heels. A vision as always and she knew it.

"Not you acting all cordial at the door. You almost died and I had to hear about it off the news! No phone calls, no text, f__k a letter would have sufficed! If Barbara here didn't fill me in, I would've thought the worst!" Florence listed off each offense she had against you with her long acrylics.

Each click of her coffin nails made you cringe. It was literal sorcery how she could braid hair with them.

You walked further into the room to confront Florence, more like de-escalate her ire.

"That was two weeks ago Flo." You mentioned. They didn't know about you getting kidnapped just yesterday. The less they know the better.

Barbara made a face before weighing in.

"It doesn't matter how long ago it was Y/n, we were so worried about you! It was terrifying to watch the news without knowing your whereabouts! No one heard from you until I got a call from Bruce saying you were laying low at his estate. You should have called us. We're your friends!"

She failed to mention that Bruce was first on the scene as Batman with his tech analyst Oracle on standby that fateful Friday night. Both were clueless as to where you disappeared to until you mysteriously appeared back at your apartment, otherwise unharmed the next day.

Your whereabouts after the gala attack were unaccounted for. Where did you go for the night? Better yet, how did you escape the carnage?

Things weren't adding up, hence Barbara here with Florence (blissfully unaware of course) trying to get more intel.

The billionaire mentioned that something was on your mind in the two weeks you stayed with him. Even worse, things fell flat literally out of nowhere and you were too eager to leave Wayne Manor. You refused to talk about it to him, maybe you would confide in Barbara.

Bruce said he dropped you off at your place yesterday afternoon and Barbara was determined to get to the bottom of things today. Florence was playing her part in the secret mission and rounded on you, agreeing with her redheaded friend.

"Exactly! Friends communicate but wait a minute, new information being presented. You stayed with the DILF?!" She looked at you both with a petty smile slowly forming on her face.

"Bruce is not a daddy." You crossed your arms with a dramatic eye roll.

"Girl you crazy!" Florence cackled but stopped when she noticed something peculiar. "Hold on... Oh my god." She gasped.

Barbara jumped in her chair and looked around. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

If she looked further into the kitchen she would've seen the mess Joker made of it. You clearly didn't have any time to clean or hide the evidence of him being here before their unexpected arrival. The fact the mess was there made you panic and try to keep their attention isolated in the living room.

"You f__ked him!" Florence screamed.

Your face turned deadpan the exact moment Barbara spoke out. "Wait who??"

Florence rolled her exotic eyes. "Y/n had sex with Bruce Wayne! It's written all over her face."

"I d-did not!"

She scoffed, "Tuh the devil is a lie. You had sex with somebody and ya boy Wayne seems to be a biter." She poked your collarbone that was riddled with marks. Your pjs put them on full display and you slapped a hand over them.

"I-I uh.." You turned to Barbara for help but she seemed to be processing this new information poorly.

"I I I. You're stuttering Y/n. Was the sex that good you can't form sentences? Is he still here?" Florence followed your gaze and looked over her shoulder.

You made a panic induced noise that diverted her attention back to you and away from the archway leading to the bedrooms.

"Bruce isn't here because I didn't have sex with him! I was still in bed when you banged on my door like the freaking GCPD." Your state of clothing sold the story but Florence wasn't buying it judging by her pursed lips.

"Mmhm. You took a shower and didn't wrap your hair beforehand. Any woman with some common sense would protect her textured hair before showering unless she's too preoccupied by getting dicked down. I can see the water damage Y/n. You ain't slick." Florence tapped your nappy hair that was sticking out from under your silk wrap.

Busted and Florence looked smug as you struggled to make a witty response.

Barbara broke the silence, sounding a bit hurt. "Y/n.. did you really have sex with Bruce?"

You turned towards the redhead and sighed. It was easy to forget Barbara had this weird, complex relationship with the billionaire. If she wasn't so flirtatious and coy with Dick you would've been convinced she had a thing for Bruce.

Either way, you heard the betrayal in her voice and felt obligated to set the record straight.

"No, I did not Barbara." You glanced at Florence when she snorted. "Look. I said what I said. Believe me or not that's up to you but I have no reason to lie."

Barbara slowly nodded her head but both of you eyed Florence when she burst out laughing.

"That dick must've been grade A to have you this twisted. You look like you barely survived a one night stand with a sadist." Florence snickered and fell on the couch in stitches.

She was having way too much fun roasting you. She was right about the sadist bit. Joker did get carried away...

"She has a point Y/n. They look painful but regardless— I'm so happy for you!" Barbara squealed.

"Our girl is finally getting dick. Took her long enough!" Florence added in between wheezes.

"Oh my god." You groaned at your friends ganging up on you. You made your way to the couch and sat down next to Flo.

After a while their laughter simmered down until Florence could speak without giggling.

"Okay nah forreal. I can squeeze you in for an appointment. Your hair looking a lil rough baby." Florence patted your natural hair professionally. "Did he pull the braids out or something? What happen?"

You swatted her hand away. "See you ain't right. If you two are done hounding me, I'd like to relax for the rest of the day."

Joker was bound to be pissed with how long they were hanging around. He was not a person to keep waiting but you couldn't kick them out without raising suspicions.

"Oh? He wore you out these past two weeks and now you're trying to kick us out. Rude. We came over to invite you out for a girl's night." Florence propped her heels on the coffee table and Barbara nodded her head, situated in her favorite spot next to the accent chair.

Behind her you spotted Joker's ridiculous panda suit he left on the floor when the two of you arrived late last night.

It was riddled with scratches from the spray of bullets Two Face's goons made in retaliation to your rescue. A cold sweat ran down your spine hoping they didn't see it. How could Joker be so careless?! Oh right, he thought it would be just the two of you in the penthouse for the next five months. You weren't a recluse for crying out loud!

Although few in number, you had visitors and many deliveries that stopped by. You mentally shook your head and diverted your attention back to Barbara who clapped her hands in glee.

"You can rest later Y/n! C'mon, we haven't hung out in ages!"

Flo admired her acrylic set and added her two cents in. "Red is right. Plus you deserve some fun after your brush with death."

If only she knew just how true her statement was and how recent. You wanted to agree but..

You glanced towards your guest bedroom where you knew Joker was bound to be eavesdropping. Florence's stunning beauty blocked your field of vision.

"Unless you really do have a dick appointment with a tall handsome billionaire you not telling us about." She sang.

You spat the denial out through your teeth. "No, I don't."

Barbara snickered behind her hands and the motion caused her many bracelets to clink together. "Perfect! We'll make it a true girl's night and invite Morgana!" She whipped her phone out and began typing away. "Wait, what time does she get off work?"

"Three." You and Florence said at the same time but you added more to your sentence. "So this is a thing. Like we're actually going out tonight?"

"Yes but there's a catch. I was invited to a club by one of my clients." Florence said with a grimace.

Barbara looked up from her phone not understanding the issue. "Okay? Wow! That's amazing Flo. Which one?"

"Euphoria."

You and Barbara shared a look. "I've never heard of it, is it a new club or something?" You asked.

Florence turned her head and mumbled something off to the side. Her odd behavior was irking Barb who had enough and raised her voice. "Spit it out Flo!"

"It's in Atlanta aight! The club is in Atlanta." She huffed out.

"Like.. Georgia?"

"As in, almost nine hundred miles away, in a different state than us Georgia?"

Florence rolled her eyes at the two of you pestering her. "Y'all so childish. Yes, that Georgia. I flew down to braid his hair a few times and he always invited me to his club for bottle service as secondary payment. Wasn't interested before, but we could use a little bit of fun on his dime. Plus I'm tryna get drunkity drunk tonight."

You snickered seeing Barbara process this new information. She was the brains of the group. This would be interesting.

"How are we going to get there, Florence? Traveling with me and a wheelchair isn't the best thing in the world, I'd tell you that."

Florence quickly replied. "It's just a suggestion d__n. He has a jet so it'll be personal care for you and your equipment, I promise. It beats staying here in Gotham. Just about all of the warehouses and strips are closed due to that explosion last night."

You stopped laughing.

"Oh good point. Dad's been so busy handling the situation on top of the National Guard I didn't get to talk to him this morning." Barbara mentioned.

Were they talking about the bomb Joker caused to save you last night? It sure sounded like it. You tensed up in your seat and remained quiet.

"See? It makes sense to travel elsewhere since Gotham City nightlife is temporarily shut down. This is what happens when an idiot blows up a perfectly good liquor factory. We have to party outside the state!"

They were definitely talking about the warehouse Joker demolished. Barbara and Florence spoke in the background about tonight's travel details but you were stuck in your own world.

It was insane to recall but you were kidnapped less than twenty four hours ago and Joker's 'heroic actions' had citywide consequences. Most of the nightclubs in Gotham were housed in warehouses so it was sound logic to shut down the rest to protect the public from any other repeat hits or copycats.

Would it be too suspicious to turn on the tv to watch the news coverage mid conversation? You didn't expect any survivors, but you needed to know what lengths Joker went through to get you back.

Even if they were criminals beyond saving, their deaths somehow felt like your responsibility.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing with this.. Usually I would stress my dad's strict citywide curfew but technically it doesn't apply if we fly out of the state. Morgana's not answering her cell so she must be busy with an order. I'll fill her in later. How about we meet back here around, oh let's say, a quarter to eight then drive to the airport?"

You were still on the fact they were talking about last night's traumatic event to even acknowledge they were making plans without your say.

You reentered the conversation with a stage cough. "Um excuse me? Hi. The owner of the meetup spot wishes to speak. Do I have a say in the matter or...?"

"Nope." They both said.

You were overruled two to one. What was the point in trying to stick your ground?

You finally got to glance at the clock. It read a little after eleven am. For someone who went to bed super late and woke up extremely early, you had a ton of energy. But did you have enough for a girl's night? Would you have enough to face Joker after this and tell him you were leaving? You were way too young for this kind of stress.

You'd have grey hairs by the end of the year. Florence ended your worrisome thoughts when she stood up with a flourish.

"Alright I'll call and tell him that we're a go. Now you!" She rounded on you with a pointy coffin nail. "I want that hair washed and presentable to match your sexy outfit that you'll wear tonight. And if you fail to be ready at eight pm, I will personally cockblock your plans with Wayne. Have I made myself clear?"

Florence stood over you looking every bit the assertive girl boss she was. You nodded your head to appease her. "Yes ma'am. I'll be ready."

Neither her or Barbara looked convinced. You were notorious for rain checks after all.

"I mean it Y/n/n." Flo warned.

Barbara sent you another telepathic message, this one, sucks to be you, before they both made their way towards the door. You held it open, waving goodbye and promising to be ready at eight o'clock.

You closed the door with a soft click that did nothing to muffle your heavy sigh. Somehow you got roped into a jet setting night out. Just what were you going to tell Joker?

You could write a thousand speeches, captivate an audience with your riveting tales, but when it came to finding a way to tell Joker about tonight's plans, you came up short.

He would not take the news well, that much was certain and you really didn't want to put a wedge in the already fragile relationship. You liked Joker a lot but your pre-existing friendship with the girls was important too.

Who took more priority in your life? You rested your head on the front door, at a loss on what to do.

"Going somewhere bunny?"

You screamed at the low timbre caressing in your ear. You doubted if Florence and Barbara were out of earshot yet but you honestly did not care. Your roommate was a sneaky devil that loved to scare people, i.e. you.

"Joker, you got to stop creeping up on me like that! My heart is racing!" You placed a hand over your chest to try and calm the tempo down.

Joker could care less. He heard every word you said and had a bone to pick with you. He crowded your frightened form to the wall and eyed you down with that mysterious gleam you had yet to decipher. You couldn't tell what he was thinking until he spoke.

"Soooo you're leaving. Again." He growled.

Okay he was Pissed with a capital p.

You had two choices here. One, play the victim card or own up to the plans and hold your ground. You chose the higher ground.

"Oh that. Well you already heard but Flo, Barb, and I are doing girl's night. I can't back out or they'll get suspicious. I mean.. they already think—"

Joker cut you off. "That you're screwing Gotham's most favorite upstanding citizen, Bruce Wayne? Yeah I hearD. I'll let that slide solely on the fact that the Commissioner's daughter was sooo worried about your sex life she failed to notice incriminating evidence right in her face."

He stepped back to pick up his bulletproof panda suit off the floor and shook it playfully. "It's comforting to know everyone associated with the GCPD is dumber than a bag of rocks."

You didn't find his comment funny.

"Don't insult my friend right to my face, Joker. That's what you not finna do."

He enjoyed hearing your Blüdhaven dialect come out whenever you were upset. It was a different side of you that very few got to see.

You noted his aloof demeanor and decided to agitate the bear since he wasn't mad like you thought he'd be. "Meanwhile I'm surprised you're not more upset about their 'accusations'. A lot can happen in two weeks."

You quoted Joker's own words right back at him, much to his displeasure.

Joker's grin fell and so did the panda suit from his grasp. It sank to the floor with an audible thud as he approached you once more. "Watch it Bunny."

You pursed your lips. "Or what? You'll spank me?"

"Do you want me to?"

You could tell Joker was serious. He didn't stutter nor did he crack a smile. If your eyes weren't glued to his, you would've seen his hands balled up into fists and shaking by his side. This version of Joker was unknown to you and it was wise to tread carefully. He was unpredictable and visibly on edge.

You let out a shaky breath. "N-No! Look. I'm not running away.."

"Then why did you agree to go out clubbing in Atlanta? That's the very definition of leaving!"

Joker was trying to ebb his emotions but it was proving to be difficult when you stood there acting like you were innocent.

Didn't you see your hypocritical actions front and center? How dare you paint him out to be the villain here?! He shouldn't be punished just because you were scared to take a leap of faith. You talked up a good game about giving this relationship a shot but you ran away at the mere drop of a hat. It was not fair.

You should be the one questioning your feelings toward him, not the other way around. He stood firm on his feelings, (even if he was relearning them day by day) you were the one uncertain. You were the one who was afraid.

Joker couldn't help you overcome that fear, at least not in a healthy manner. However tough love was a tried and true approach to these situations...

"Why?" Joker growled again as he invaded your space.

He didn't care if you were claustrophobic. He couldn't even think straight let alone notice how his actions were affecting you. You backpedaled further into the kitchen and was creating some distance until your back hit the pantry door next to the stove.

Then you were caged in, standing before a raging lion.

Arms you previously admired and clung to throughout the night were walls of steel, blocking your escape. Joker's tall frame blocked out the light, plunging you into a dark void where you were an innocent mouse and he the Cheshire Cat licking his fangs in anticipation.

The shadows made his facial scars harsher somehow. More sinister than you'd care to admit.

Joker repeated his question yet your brain failed at forming the right words to answer. Your silence was not what he wanted to hear. Joker asked you again only this time, he shouted it.

You cowered away and he preened at the fear rolling off of you. Almost a month ago, he would have killed to see fear overwhelm your features, yet seeing it today, it was all wrong. Just wrong, wrong, wrong. He never wanted you to fear him but that dark, ugly side he tried so hard to tame, wanted— no needed to force you to see their way of thinking.

Fear was the only way. It was the only emotion Joker knew and perfected and so he used it well.

You whimpered when Joker's fist careened into the pantry door mere inches from your face. It almost drowned out his demand for answers. Almost.

You didn't know how to respond when he was like this.

Granted you were still emotionally drained from last night, (and from this morning when you woke up alone) you easily lost the battle against your emotions and let a tear slip out.

His world stopped spinning.

It was as if Killer Croc ripped Joker's heart out and shredded it into confetti paper. Joker feared nothing but the moment he reached out and tried holding your face in his hands- when you flinched away- he felt hollow inside.

He was scum, lower than dirt for invoking your tears.

Joker's hands hovered in front of your face, trembling from the thought of touching you, of invoking your fear of him more, he couldn't stomach the sight anymore. He did this. No. That horrid- evil side of him that he tried his best to hide whenever he was around you, did this.

It wanted your blood, your terror, your very life if you were foolish enough to give it. Joker knew he was a monster; it was common knowledge and he wondered daily why you allowed him to dwell amongst your beauty and kindness. All he ever did was cause you pain.

Perhaps he should leave. He couldn't hurt something out of his reach, so he nodded to himself and began to turn when your weak, watery cry stopped him.

"Wait! Please."

Joker's world began spinning again, one hesitant inch at a time.

He was the one that cornered, frightened, and made you cry so why was he the one acting afraid? Joker was scared to see your face, to find disgust there directed at him. Maybe today would be the day you came to your senses and kicked him out of your life for good.

But no. His Bunny was too merciful. Your hands mirrored his previous intentions and held his cheek like glass. Your hands were so warm on his scars it made him dizzy.

"P-Please.. I'm sorry. I promise I'm not running away! Don't ever think that I'm running from you or from u-us. It's just.. um my friends and I rarely have the same schedules and if I don't go tonight it'll be months before we get to hang out as a full group again. And with you in my apartment for the next five months I want— No, I need to spend time with them before I give you all of my attention. You deserve it! I'm so sorry Joker, I have to go, please don't be mad at me!"

You burst into tears and clung to his chest. He blinked in awe that his fear tactic worked. Finally you explained your actions! Although he hated the method he used, it all worked out in the end.

You feared Joker just a smidgen more than you previously did and in the future he would use that to his advantage. Joker sighed to himself. He was ashamed for even manipulating you like this, but as he wrapped his arms around you and shushed your hiccups like a baby– he knew.

The seed was sown; You knew better not to anger him again.

Joker was used to making people cry and he hardly cared if they never stopped. It was part of the job description as Joker monopolized people's fear of him for his grip on power.

That is until he made you cry. Then, it was a problem. One that he couldn't seem to fix.

You two had slid to the kitchen floor where Joker sat with his back to the counter and you in his arms. He looked every bit a grumpy cat.

No matter how many times he patted your back or mumbled out at "There, there Bunny." or rolled his eyes each time you apologized he groaned, "Stop saying sorry and stop cryin.." you didn't.

You would simply tear up more and cling to him tighter.

This was Joker's atonement. His legs had since fallen asleep from your weight on them and he watched the time tick by on the stove's interface. Sooner or later you would tucker yourself out, right? Joker was by no means religious but he considered praying to something if it finally dried up your tears.

He was seconds away from shoving you aside and doing something more useful with his time- but once he raised a hand to caress the back of your head, it all stopped.

Just like that, you stopped. He was mad at himself for not thinking of it sooner. You secretly loved your hair being played with despite your strict 'no touching rule.'

You whimpered differently and shuddered in his hold as your gentle sobs came to a stop.

All was quiet until you looked up into muddled green orbs. Joker appeared to be absolutely bored but his eyes softened when he saw your puffy face staring up at him. Even with tear stained cheeks, you were beautiful. He didn't know if he was allowed to kiss you but nothing could stop Joker when he wanted something.

Right now, he wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours. He wiped your lash line with the pad of his thumb and angled your head better to see him.

"You feelin better doll?"

You bashfully nodded your head. Your emotional outburst was so embarrassing now that it was over. To think you cried in front of Joker of all people! Ugh, you felt so pathetic.

Yet the way Joker's eyes regarded you like you were the most interesting thing in his world, it gave you a bit of hope. Who cares if your writer's mind over romanticized the moment?

Joker arched an eyebrow at your spaced out gaze and huffed gently. "Still not using your big girl words. I wanna hear you use 'em." He tapped your temple once, then twice to taunt your brain.

"I-I ahem.. I feel better. T-Thanks for letting me cry all over you." You wiped his chest that did little to absorb your tears. His muscles looked good wet. You cleared your throat after thinking that wild thought.

"Something else still on your mind?" Joker asked while tipping your head back with a lone finger. He had a sixth sense in reading your mind.

This relationship would be so much easier if he actually could, but alas. He was still pretty accurate at times.

"No. I just feel stupid for crying in your lap like some spoiled brat." You grumbled.

"Hmm, you do acT like one so no harm done." He laughed after seeing your annoyed scowl. "Now that your uh.. tantrum is over. You wanna relocate this chat somewhere else? Like.. not on the floor?" Joker shifted his knee and you both heard the pop it made after being in the same position for too long.

"Oh my gosh! Your leg! I'm so–"

Joker took that time to shut you up with a kiss. You tensed up for a millisecond but melted like wax soon after on his velvet lips. Unfortunately he broke the connection off prematurely and you failed to stop the whine that escaped your throat.

Joker chuckled once and pecked your lips, unable to deny you of anything. "If you apologize one more time, I'll give ya something to really be sorry for."

You barely had time to digest that warning before Joker abruptly stood up with you still in his arms. The sudden change of motion threw you off. He held you steady as you adapted to standing on your own two feet once again. You thanked him once the room stopped spinning.

Then you saw the state of your kitchen. Dishes were still lying around that weren't cleaned the first go around and it was slowly creeping towards midday. You had too much to handle before eight pm.

But one task at a time you told yourself. "I should finish cleaning and make us lunch before I start getting ready."

Joker's arms tightened around you after hearing your intentions. All that crying and you were still leaving? It didn't make any sense to him. You knew exactly what he was thinking and backed out of his arms with a sigh.

"I'm still going, Joker. You can go one night without me. I can cook you dinner before I go and I'll be back before breakfast. But I do need to go grocery shopping beforehand. I doubt there's anything in the fridge."

"There isn't." Joker confirmed.

You nodded and rocked on your heels in awkward silence. Your statement hung in the electrically charged room. Joker didn't help the situation by staring at you unblinking. Two pools of emerald bore into your soul and you crumbled like a cookie. Staring at Joker was like playing with fire. You had to look away to save yourself.

"Alrighty then. I guess I'll g-go get ready–" You made it around the island counter, headed towards your bedroom when Joker grabbed ahold of your arm.

"Uh where are you going?" He asked.

Did the man have separation anxiety or something? Regardless, your eyes traced from Joker's grip on your skin, up along his muscular arm to his eyes. Surely he wasn't hard of hearing.

"I just said I need to go grocery shopping. Geez Joker. It won't take me long and I promise I'll be back before you know it. I do have to change though." You glanced down at his firm grip, willing him to let go.

"You're not going anywhere without me."

Unfreaking believable. Who was acting like a spoiled brat now? Did all logic fly out the window this morning? You were literally speechless, gaping up at Joker until he explained himself.

"Both of us are going to the store." He sounded so sure of himself you wanted to believe it was possible. But this new level of insanity Joker cooked up was maddening.

How did he survive this long making these rash decisions?

You made a face and waved your hands wildly in a state of confusion. "Joker, you can't be serious. You're a wanted fugitive! There's an active manhunt for your recapture! Not to mention the explosion you created last night to rescue me has the entire GCPD force on go mode. The last thing you need to do is go outside."

Joker crossed his arms and stared you down. His facial expression was proof he didn't care about the authorities or their frivolous manhunt. His dramatic eye roll was a big, 'I don't give a f__k.'

You looked Joker dead in the eye and made an iconic hand gesture, "One does not simply walk into a supermarket with a reputation like yours."

Joker didn't get the pop culture reference. "Uh.. I'm not wearing any makeup." He pointed to his bare face. "So yeah, yeah I can."

He brought up a good argument. Joker did in fact look like a completely different person without his signature clown makeup. He could probably avoid detection if not for his scars. You were biased towards them but any other person would openly stare if they saw Joker's face. His hair alone would instantly raise alarm.

"That doesn't change the fact you're still.... well you." Joker arched an eyebrow at your choice of words so you quickly retracted your statement.

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT! I meant.. um green hair, drop dead gorgeous guy, oozing dangerous vibes, plus your uh.."

You gestured vaguely at your mouth. Joker just blinked.

This field trip must mean a lot to him if he truly forgot that his appearance was a major problem with attempting to blend in with society.

Self acceptance was always celebrated here, but not everyone has an elongated smile carved onto their face. You struggled saying that in a positive tone but you couldn't beat around the bush.

"Good Lawd this is pointless. Since you won't take no for an answer, you're putting a beanie on to cover your hair and I have a face mask around here somewhere to cover your scars. If I could, I'd put a brown paper bag over your head." You sighed wistfully.

His pointed glare dared you to try.

"Joker, this is still too risky." You trailed off and scratched the back of your neck, overthinking this idea since he wouldn't. Was his separation anxiety worth him potentially getting arrested?

You glanced up when Joker scoffed flippantly. Apparently so.

"Risky is my middle name, Y/n! I go under-cove-rrr more times than I'd care to admit with no issues. Gotham Citizens are annoyingly ignorant when it comes to being observant." The dark gleam in his eye had you believing him for a second.

Yet it wasn't enough. "I don't know.."

He hated hearing the hesitation in your voice. Joker was running out of excuses so he took you in his arms and held fast to your shoulders shaking them none too gently.

"Hey. Y/n. Look. Look at meee." You gazed up at Joker with doubt still clouding your e/c hued eyes. He took a moment to admire your beauty before he jumped back to the matter at hand.

"Nothing bad will happen. Can you- oh I don't know, trust me for once?" He cupped your face and stared straight into your soul.

Time slowed down whenever you stared at Joker. There was something about those electric green eyes of his that simply drew you in. His lips loomed closer and closer until they met yours with a rare gentleness that you never expected Joker to possess. Joker's kiss felt lighter than the pancakes he made for breakfast.

His tongue clashed with yours fighting for dominance- swirling like the butter and syrup on your plate- until you gave Joker full control. He licked the root of your mouth in victory and ever since you were a goner.

Joker pressed up against you- all hard edges and a festering heat. The combination made you weak in the knees yet Joker couldn't erase the narrative from your mind. This trip to the store was definitely risky and it went against your logic as an author.

Every character you read about or created never exposed themselves in such a way. They were smart to avoid detection at all costs until the coast was clear.

They weren't arrogant, thinking themselves untouchable and they never taunted the authorities. Joker was doing that and more. In Joker's case, his recapture was inevitable because Batman always tracked the clown down.. but not this time.

This time, Joker was under your protection and you dared the caped crusader to steal him away from you. You made a silent vow to keep Joker hidden the day you half-dragged, half-carried him into your apartment, unconscious and bleeding.

If Joker was going down, so were you. And so  you elected yourself to be the brains of this duo.

You seriously wanted to boycott this dumb idea of his. There were so many what ifs floating around in your head. If you spent the same amount of time thinking about the cons you would have known they were moot points since Joker was already determined to go.

He said it himself Gotham citizens were ignorant to their surroundings.

Barbara and Florence were living proof of that. If they were more observant they would've blown the whistle on your 'hide a fugitive in my apartment' quest a long time ago. Barbara saw right through your little white lie about adopting a cat but didn't press the matter any further.

You proudly wore a necklace of love bites and bruises that Florence pointed out although she didn't grow concerned when you denied it wasn't Bruce's doing. Who else did it then Florence? You mentally rolled your eyes. It was kinda sad just how little your two best friends cared. You might need this girl's night more than you thought.

And to get there you had to appease Joker. Your thoughts were abuzz as he pulled away from your lips for air. He swiped at the string of spit connecting your mouths with his tongue and rested his forehead against yours.

You didn't need more persuasion after that doozy of a kiss. You trusted Joker to some degree and it was high time to give him more credit where it was due. All you had was his word and a pinch of hope that this trip wouldn't backfire.

You played with the strands of hair on the nape of Joker's neck to gain his attention. He already knew you would cave in but your following words just solidified his theory.

"I hope I don't regret this. Get dressed loser, we're going shopping."

And that's how you ended up grocery shopping with Joker.

The mere thought was insane but sure enough, you glanced to your right and the notorious criminal stood next to you reading the nutritional facts on a bag of chips in fake interest. You had to smack his hand when he tried to open the bag in the middle of the store.

He threw death glares at you for hitting him but eventually tossed the half opened bag into the cart.

"I totally regret this." You grumbled and pushed the cart away from Joker.

He said nothing but followed behind you, secretly keeping an eye out on the various shoppers and all available entry and exit points. Just because he told you he went undercover with ease didn't mean he was lax with surveillance. Joker was vigilant while maintaining a level of calmness. A shame you weren't in the same boat.

Your nerves were one thousand percent since the moment you two left the apartment and it was noticeable from how your heels tapped on the epoxy floors to your shifty eyes. Every sound made you jump. You still couldn't believe you agreed to this.

After explaining to Joker that you were quoting Mean Girls and not deliberately calling him a loser, (you knew better) you both went your separate ways to get dressed.

You spent half of your thirty minutes taming your hot mess of hair into a pineapple bun and tied it strategically with a scarf. It paired well with your designer halter top and black skinny jeans that made your backside look phenomenal. You chose to wear printed Louboutin heels to polish off the look and eyed yourself in the mirror celebrating a job well done. Until you saw the bruises on your neck.

Joker's 'handiwork' was on full display but nothing a little concealer couldn't fix.

Adorning bracelets and a pair of hoop earrings as finishing touches, you considered yourself ready to go. Joker didn't know what to say when he opened his bedroom door and saw you in the hallway applying another coat of clear lip gloss to those plump lips of yours.

Your smoldering gaze rooted him to the spot.

"I uh thought we were going to the uhh... store?" He managed to say.

You looked ready for a date not for running errands. Joker looked down at his scruffy jeans and grey long sleeve shirt feeling vastly underdressed.

You on the other hand were practically drooling at Joker's choice in clothes. All he needed was a jean jacket and he would be any woman's bad boy dream. Since when did ripped jeans look so hot? You fiddled with your hair scarf hoping you weren't visibly sweating.

"You weren't kidding when you said you went clothes shopping. I ah... you look.. wow." You stuttered in Joker's direction. Your heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floors as you sauntered over to him.

Just a change of clothes and Joker had completely transformed himself. He let a few strands of his hair peek out from underneath the dark beanie you gave him. The pop of green was the only color in his monochromatic attire. Maybe this disguise would actually work.

He had you fooled. Joker looked like a lead guitarist of a metal band and an incredibly hot one at that. He let you run your hands over his clothed chest, while holding back an amused grin. "Answer my question Bunny." He reminded you.

"What question?"

Joker shook his head. "If we go together it'll draw more attention, 'specially if you keep that on..." He cooed. He didn't have to crane his head to see that booty from the front. You could make anything look sexy but this fit of yours was killing him.

"Right.. yeah perhaps I can meet you there? It's the EverFresh on Yale St."

That would explain your dressy outfit. Only nannies of prominent families and the upper elite shopped at EverFresh. Their prices were inflated but the quality of food lived up to the company's name. Joker knew you would blend in with your outfit. Everything made sense.

Not much else was said when the two of you left your apartment and rode the elevator down to the main floor. You were sweating bullets thinking someone would identify Joker but alas, no one batted an eyelash. Other than a fleeting glance at him for wearing a face mask, Joker roamed freely amongst the public.

This was actually working. The realization was terrifying.

He could've been anywhere all these years. It made his reputation that much terrifying. Joker whispered in your ear to relax right before he disappeared into the foot traffic outside of your apartment complex. Then you were alone.

Despite his reassuring words you felt like everyone was watching you. One guy stared longer than you liked on the subway (it didn't dawn on you that you looked hot) and it raised your hackles until you heard someone subtly clear their throat a few distance away.

The subway car was packed but out of the corner of your eye, you could see the dark handsome figure of Joker holding onto the ceiling handle. His grip on it highlighted his bicep in the tight grey shirt he wore and the lady standing next to him was definitely enjoying the view. If only she knew those arms could snap her neck and the nearby populace in the blink of an eye.

Joker's green eyes glowed in the overhead lights before the subway went through a blacked out passageway. The staring contest pursued even in the dark. Keeping an eye on Joker helped calm your nerves and you let out a shaky exhale until a robotic feminine voice announced the station's arrival.

It wasn't far of a walk out the subway terminal into the blinding organic and healthy food market, EverFresh.

The place reeked of superiority. It made you want to gag but you mentally prepared yourself and rented a cart to begin your shopping. This wouldn't take long and you reminded yourself you were nothing like these people.

EverFresh was the only store you knew of where a pre-screening background check was mandatory before obtaining a membership and also where sweats were banned. You wished you wore your Saint Laurent YSL logo heels instead.

Sticking out like a sore thumb wasn't ideal right now. Yet none of that mattered when Joker entered the store five minutes after you.

Somehow he bypassed earning a stink eye from the greeter when he failed to rent a cart or handheld basket, however, Joker did gain the eye of every housewife, nanny, private chef, and female employee present.

There was an air about him that commanded attention while warning people not to stare for too long. It was apparent he didn't belong here but no one questioned Joker's authority. He naturally found you on the bread aisle and strode up to you with confidence.

Unfortunately you didn't see him toss a loaf of whole grain wheat into the cart but you heard his dramatic greeting, "I see you started without me, Princess."

A middle aged woman, (a politician's wife by the looks of it) sent jealous daggers into your back.

You thought bringing Joker along to the store would put him at risk with the cops but, oh no. His sexy, mysterious aura was gonna get you in trouble with the jealous shoppers. Joker was better off coming as the wanted man he was instead of this wickedly good disguise.

Joker chuckled at your dilemma and only made matters worse by following behind you like a dark shadow. From an outsider's perspective, he appeared to be your personal bodyguard but he was anything but. You grabbed a few more things before turning down the breakfast aisle when Joker decided to act a plum fool.

Your heels echoed on the spotless floor as you combed through the vast selection for the various items on your list. Since Joker was with you, he could help carry the majority of the load so you could buy in bulk. You were scratching an item off the list when you heard your name across the way.

"Oh Y/n can I please have it? I promise I've been a very good boy."

You slowly turned around to find Joker holding up a box of Cocoa Nuts and Frosted Flakes, shaking them aggressively. You were surprised that Colomy's brand of cereal was even in stock here but stared at Joker in disbelief. Whatever happened to keeping a low profile?

He swore your left eye twitched. You were just about to scold him when another shopper walked by getting an eyeful of Joker. She giggled out a hello, he paid her no mind.

"Please Bunny?"

Her scoff was louder than the gossip she'd start about you. Your membership would take a few points for sure.

Steam was coming out of your ears you were so embarrassed.

"You are acting like a child. Yes, you can get them! Anything to shut you up." You scanned the area making sure no one was getting too suspicious. If anyone were listening in, it sounded like a nanny discipling her charge. If only Joker was an adolescent and not a full grown man with a twisted sense of humor.

This was the first trip to the store that no one had asked if you needed help or huffed at you to move out of their way. Usually a store associate would have bothered you by now. The lack of customer service put you on edge.

Joker invading your personal space and practically purring in your ear didn't help relieve your paranoia either. "Thank you Mommy." He said while tossing both boxes into the cart.

You never felt more embarrassed in your entire life. You wished the floor could swallow you whole. And so everything came back full circle.

"I totally regret this." You grumbled and pushed the cart away from Joker.

Yet he never left your line of sight. He stayed glued to your side even while you struggled to reach things on the top shelves and made sexual innuendos as you chose between two pieces of meat.

"Hmmm. Why not get that one Y/n? We both know you like thick pieces of meat." His words made the tips of your ears tingle and it flushed beet red when a blonde standing next to you gasped in shock.

She looked Joker up and down, no doubt about to shoot her shot but you tossed both packets of meat into the cart and hissed at Joker to follow you.

He did, but not before winking at the blonde. No matter how many times you told him to behave he would say or do something attention grabbing and shoot your stress levels sky high. He was doing it on purpose now. You were about to reach the floral section when you rounded on Joker.

"Stay right here and watch the cart. Do not walk off, do not flirt with another shopper.. again.. and please don't eat anything I haven't paid for yet."

He rolled his eyes and gave you a lazy army salute, which was his way of saying, 'I will make no such promises.' He was already looking for something to get into by the time you turned around.

Your attention focused on the florist center which took up a decent size of the market. It alone contributed to the sweet, inviting smell that wafted throughout the store.

Arrange me Not owned leasing rights within the supermarket but their primary location was a blooming success in Otisburg. And with good reason. Their work was amazing with each bouquet arranged with a personal touch for the expected recipient. They made common flowers works of art and you were lucky enough to know the owner.

Morgana planned on expanding to a third location in New Gotham by the end of the year. She could put old Pamela Isley out of business if the botanist turned super criminal ever returned to an honest living.

Regardless, you knew your friend was here in person today based on the more elaborate, premade bouquets on display. You walked up to the counter and decided against ringing the bell placed there.

It was too noisy, the florist mentioned time and time again.

"Morgana you busy?"

You didn't have to wait long before curious brown eyes shot out from the back followed by a dazzling smile when she recognized her current customer. Morgana had her long silky hair done up in a high ponytail today with a wreath of wildflowers acting as a makeshift hair tie.

If her hands weren't caked in dirt she would have hugged you. "Never for you Y/n! What will it be today? Lilies? Garden roses? Ooh! Peonies are in right now and I have a full crate that I can ship over from Otisburg to—" You stopped her rambling with a gentle wave.

"I'd love any arrangement you make Morgana but that's not why I'm here."

"Oh." She scratched her face, leaving a streak of soil there. "Did something happen again? I haven't checked my phone today."

Out of all of your friends Morgana was the most level headed when it came to your life drama. She didn't panic like Florence or Barbara would and it was one of the reasons why Morgana was the only person you texted after you woke up underground in Joker's bunker.

You hated having favorites but you could tell Morgana anything simply because she wouldn't overreact or care about the information. She was truly a free spirited individual. Which meant you could be as blunt as you wanted— no harm done.

"No, nothing bad happened. Flo, Barb, and I are doing girl's night. Barbara texted you the full details but I wanted to make sure you knew before your shift ended. We're meeting back up at my place at a quarter till eight. Florence got this client of hers that's flying us out to Atlanta."

Halfway through your explanation Morgana wiped her hands and face clean with a cloth and rounded the counter to stand by your side. It was acting as a barrier from giving you a hug. She pulled away with a laugh after hearing the end of your sentence.

"Oh she been giving that man pussy!" You joined in with her peals of laughter.

"That's what I said because ain't no way he's offering to fly us all out free of charge! He owns a club so I guess he's paying for everything else tonight. We just gotta come as we are."

"I have yet to turn down a man's money. Consider me in. What's the dress code?" Morgana asked. Unfortunately, you were just as clueless.

"Uh I don't know." You checked the group chat but nothing was mentioned. "I mean it's Atlanta so probably hot girl summer. Florence mentioned she wanted to get drunk so. There's that."

Morgana sighed to herself. "That means someone gotta stay sober to watch her Haitian a_s. We are not getting kicked out of a club again. I nominate you this time." She rolled her eyes when you muttered, well duh, but continued. "But say less I'll be ready. Is Cindy down?"

You totally forgot to include the businesswoman! It was quite last minute and you hadn't talked to her since visiting her office with Bruce two weeks ago.

"I doubt it."

Morgana hummed, "Won't hurt to invite her just in case she can pull a miracle." Out the corner of her eye she saw a client come up with a pickup ticket. "Ooh gotta go girl, but I'll see you tonight!"

She waved you off and greeted her new customer before coming out the back with a massive centerpiece bursting with spring florals. The lady gushed over the piece and struggled holding it with her two arms, it was so huge. It was absolutely beautiful and after seeing it you turned to Morgana—

"I'll bring you a bouquet when I come over tonight." She knew you too well. You walked back to where you left Joker and the cart with a content smile.

You killed two birds with one stone; informing Morgana of tonight's plans while shopping for groceries, all without an incident. Maybe tonight wouldn't be as bad as you thought. That is if Joker let you go.

The man had separation anxiety and boarded a boat down the river of denial. You didn't want to anger him or ruin whatever that was growing between you and him. Everything would work itself out, you thought to yourself and rounded the corner, only to arrive at an vacant spot.

"Where..." So obviously you weren't tripping. You left Joker by the wine and spirits section near the checkout yet he and your cart full of food were gone.

You frantically looked around but other shoppers were milling around minding their business, blissfully unaware. There was literally a madman on the loose and they went about their day as normal. Joker was nowhere in sight so you did the same thing your mom did whenever she lost you in the store.

You went up and down each aisle searching.

You couldn't call out Joker's name— wanted criminal and all— bummer right? Each aisle came up empty. You didn't spot a black beanie anywhere. You didn't hear any screams of terror nor did you see a crowd of women lining up for his number. He simply vanished. Your stress levels were over 9000.

"Excuse me miss? Did you lose something?"

You whirled on the store associate who stopped you on your fourth trip around the store. She took in your dilated eyes and distress, hoping you'd explain.

"Miss?" She put a halt to your panic with a comforting smile. "What seems to be the problem?"

"My cart! I left it right here and... and.." You choked out.

"Miss Y/L is it? Your membership card was authorized for a purchase over twenty minutes ago. I assumed your bodyguard went on ahead with the groceries since he opted in on a home delivery service."

Screw the GCPD capturing Joker. You were going to kill him yourself.

Did he know how much delivery services cost?! Scratch that. What was he thinking leaving without you? The man couldn't follow simple instructions and did he have to take your purse with him? At least you had your phone and apartment key in your back pocket, however your anger for a green haired clown was at an all time high.

You had to save face in this uppity store so you faced the store associate with a tight lipped smile of your own.

"Is that so? Well, I guess he got impatient while I was off browsing in the flower section. Thank you for your help."

She returned your smile and moseyed off to assist another customer, leaving you stewing near the exit. Joker better have a good excuse after pulling a stunt like this. It was gonna be a long subway ride home as you plotted about all the many ways to get even with the Crowned Prince of Crime.

#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #black!fem!reader #heath ledger #joker x y/n #Smut #reader insert #yandere #Long Reads #a03 writer #slow burn #Tsundere vibes #dc comic #batman #romance #angst #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #thank you for the support #joker smut #his lighthouse

[basedkikuenjoyer]

With Great Power...

We’ll get back to taking this chapter-by-chapter when 1071 officially drops Sunday. But with this break and a new year I did want to take a chance and reflect on where we’ve been and where we’re headed. I started this blog because it felt like I was picking up on something lost in the shuffle. Given the core character and Kabuki framing, it isn’t hard to see how that may be by design. An undercurrent that started with paying a little extra attention to a subtle samurai who’s story was a nigh omnipresent square peg in Wano’s grand tapestry led to seeing the entirety of the New World as a smart, connected tale building toward a moral conclusion. With great power comes great responsibility. Luffy’s reached a level acting rash can cause a lot of collateral damage. I felt this way months before the first post, and I still do today.

Does that mean I’m saying it’s all a Spiderman reference? Hell no! It’s a common enough plot, we’ve already looked at Yu Yu Hakusho doing the same and I’m waaay more inclined to see that as inspiration given we’re learning the lesson through a villain with a splintered personality born out of an inability to control their prodigious power. 

Wait...am I talking Kaido, Big Mom, or Vegapunk? You think anything good comes out of a backstory showing him working with Caesar, Judge, & Queen? That’s not very different than what we’ve talked about with Kiku. Understanding the man differently because we know his associates. Even keeps the idea of novel storytelling techniques, blending cover serial and plot. Kicks off with Pudding pulling double duty and now we’re seeing a flashback on the covers serving as backstory for the main plot. Backstory that has enormous potential to undercut the seemingly harmless “Smartest Man in the World” who’s already doing that pretty well himself. Especially since he went and shunted his good side off into one of seven. Those Sensui nods man...

I’ve seen this idea floating around. Shaka, the “good” personality of Vega’s, being his own kind of traitor. Like Reiju in a way. Something like recognizing the collective is on the precipice of crossing a bridge they shouldn’t. Who knows? Maybe we’ll come to understand this Ancient Kingdom as an entity that needed to fall, even if that fall resulted in a lot of horrors. A lot of this is tied up with a theme of like, the good and bad are necessary. Sometimes things have to go a certain way, Winter is necessary for a beautiful Spring yada yada. What Shanks left us with end of Marineford.

Of course, Wano nudges at that. Almost like showing us a play symbolic of what’s to come (I call it “Pulling an Utena.”) through the Kurozumi explictly and more subtly through leaving that trail hinting at a forlorn undertone to Kiku’s story. Old Wano reaped what it’d sewn. Kiku fit a lovely niche in that similar to “the good one” in her own way. She was always the one who took the samurai ethos so much more earnestly because it’s all she knew. Then starts the arc back where she started, this time grown enough she can take care of herself. So much about her makes sense when you remember she’s someone who had to grow up with Kin’emon’s “wisdom” as her most consistent guiding light.

Water at her roots, I like that way of putting it Denji. We’ve talked a lot about how this quiet thread is blossoming into explicit parts of Egghead. Very, very in line with being part 4 of a Kishotenketsu plot. The point is teasing out the important message from the contrast of what we see before, often using a different setting. For Wano and for everything leading up to it. Dressrosa reduced to rubble, dragging Big Mom into a fight with Kaido. I can’t look at this and feel like I was off in this interpretation of the overall moral. Luffy’s freewheeling headlong into a major incident without even considering the deeper implications. The only thing missing is a clear consequence (Sabaody) or something to subvert it. That’s what we’re racing towards. That said, every time I turn this all over I keep finding myself going back to that damn bath scene...

It’s not just opening up a little, y’know? That’s interesting in and of itself, to slide that into the context. Not showing us a reaction to losing Izo, being one of the ones quietly with the Straw Hats in the interim, a conspicuous absence from the fight steeped in themes from your intro as it pounds this idea people who are about to leave shouldn’t be here. Hell, even being the only time we let the blatant foils cross paths. It makes the bath the only time she’s the focus of a post-raid scene. And now that I’ve had time...it’s saying a lot. Not just sprinkling in that “shame” motif pretty shortly after Kin’s haunting “shame is as heavy as death” line, as a rule we didn’t see Kiku say much about the old days. Especially not her own role in them. Here’s pretty much the only time. Behind the smile it’s being open about that implication; an example of how that role hurt you. Our prelude to the arc was Marco hinting at some of the same with Whitebeard.

I guess this is why I can see the arc we’re seeing and still wonder. When I first had that inkling about Kiku I was looking at the contrast with Yamato. This was right when he got his backstory. It reinforced a desire to be accepted by Wano that built well towards the conclusion we ultimately got for him. The reason I liked the idea of Kiku doing the opposite though was how well it meshes with this big picture. If Luffy doesn’t learn to wield this power responsibly, there’ll probably be more Dressrosas in his wake. Someone who could match Big Mom’s pace a little better could’ve changed everything at the end of Fishman Island. There’s a better way, and Wano kicks off with someone impressing Luffy by showing that. Someone who happens to be related to the one trying to get Ace to see the same. An end like that could tie together so much. Elements of Sanji & Pudding on Totland, Kyros & Rebecca, Monet, Otohime all in our window to Wano. There’s this harmony between learning to slow down and take stock of the potential consequences of your actions mixed with plucking out a valuable relationship forming underneath flashier circumstances. Both require that skill highlighted with Katakuri. Maintaining composure and focus. A little foresight goes a long way in both cases.

We’re laying it on thick. Luffy has grown to a point he’s no longer just some punk kid with big dreams. The world rocks in his wake. People are latching onto his distorted legend and trying to force their aspirations along. With Vegapunk spelling out the potentially destructive implications with Yamato. “Not the type to follow others.” That initial thought was this kind of final recruit makes sense because it’d open up this kind of story. Now I’m seeing the story and well, that gap still seems to be there. That lesson crystallizing. These two are the ones we’ve seen so casually get Luffy to stop and take stock in critical situations. One that princess we’ve kept up with since so early, currently on the run. The other the culmination of people we’ve met since the crew disbanded at Sabaody, who left a weird arc being suspiciously quiet after starting it in a way that shows Luffy doesn’t mind her casually tagging along with his adventures.

That’s what I’m still watching going into 2023. And with each passing chapter it still feels like something worth doing so.

#one piece #post-wano musings #okiku #vegapunk #vivi #luffy #kozuki oden

[bnhaisliterallymylife]

Creatures of the Forest

I haven’t written anything on here in months, and to be honest I should be working on my novel rather than this. But, I’m a whore for EraserMic and can’t resist the temptation. Plus, I have a weakness for Monster AU’s, so I’m going to have fun with this.

Also heads up, I did not proofread, and story details might be a little muddy. I am tired and horny, and I will now go to bed.

Word Count: 5,242 (Kill me.)

Pairing(s): Jinn!Shouta x Female Reader x Siren!Hizashi

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, fingering, double-penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, and probably more filth.

Premise: You just wanted to have some time yourself, and considering how cheap the cabin was you couldn’t pass up the chance at a countryside getaway. And they couldn’t pass up a chance of you.

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

The cabin is not what you expected, but nonetheless you just felt glad at the chance to get away from the city for awhile. Your job has been stressing you out for months, and your family is no better. You booked out this one bedroom wood cabin from the 1970s for the next two weeks, a vacation away from technology and far, far away from the thoughts that kept you from yourself.

When you first arrived you checked out the whole cabin only to find cobwebs and dust covering nearly every surface, and the appliances were horrifically outdated. So, you decided to spend your time cleaning it up a little so you didn’t feel like a spider was going to crawl into your mouth in the middle of the night. Good thing, too, because you managed to find a fiddleback in its nest just under the bed. Now, you might hate spiders, but you’re by no means a killer.

“Work with me here, otherwise one of us is gonna get hurt.” You carefully manage to put a plastic cup over the agitated spider, and using a piece of paper you’re able to carefully take it outside. You don’t want to leave it near the cabin, and you don’t want to leave it out in the open field - what if a bird got to it? You have no choice but to trek out past the lovely field of wildflowers to the dark forest that lay just beyond it.

The trees tower over you as the sun begins to set in the distance. You’re not that far away from the cabin, but hearing the branches rustle against each other as the wind blows a warm summer breeze across your skin sends goosebumps over your body. It would be best to quickly release the spider and get out of there.

You go over to the nearest tree at the very edge of the forest and take the cup away from the paper. There the spider sits, rearing back as a threat, but its dramatics do nothing to you.

“You’re not so scary out in the open, are you?”

“He could probably say the same to you.”

You drop the paper and cup, whipping your head around to find the source of the melodic voice that had spoken to you, but no one is there.

“Over here, little bird.”

Your gaze falls back towards the forest, and just a few feet in front of you is a man with long, golden blonde hair that cascades down to his waist. He’s tall, probably six feet if you had to guess, and he’s wearing a tank top and jean shorts that show off his toned body almost too well. Then there’s his eyes, a green so bright that it contrasts the darkness of the forest.

“What are you doing here?” This land is supposed to be private, or at least that’s what the listing said.

“Sorry! I forget my manners sometimes. I’m one of the owners, you’re Y/N right?” Oh, one of the owners! You remember now, the listing mentioned that the owners of the property lived elsewhere on the land and might come by to check in on things.

“Yeah. You know, the cabin could have used a cleaning. When’s the last time you had anyone else here?”

“Somethin’ like five or so years. You like it though?”

“It’s... Cozy.” The sun seems to be disappearing much faster now. “Minus the spider.”

“Unfortunately we can’t do much about nature, little bird.” You want to ask him not to call you that, but you don’t want to be rude. The cabin is pretty cheap and you’d hate to cut this trip short because of a nickname. “But, if ya want my husband can come spray the cabin for pests tomorrow. I could bring by some food, too.”

“Oh, no thanks. I think it was just the one anyways.” The point of this whole trip is for you to get some alone time, and inviting this admittedly alluring man and his husband over would go against that.

“If you’re sure...” He trails off, glancing towards the spider that is now climbing quickly up the side of the tree. “If you do change your mind though, let us know! We don’t like pests around here, either.” You chuckle a little at that, but by now you’re already starting to back away from the forest to head back towards the cabin.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir!” You call back, now intent on getting across this field as quickly as possible. But, his next words feel like they’re a whisper in your ear, making you jerk your head back towards the forest. My name is Hizashi, little bird.

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

After unpacking that night you found yourself exhausted from the long travel to the cabin. After checking that all of the windows and doors were locked securely, you went to bed thinking about the blonde in the woods and the plans that you had for the next day. Your eyes closed with those thoughts mingling together as you fell into a seemingly deep sleep, unaware of the eyes that watched you from just outside of the bedroom window.

“She’s even better than I imagined...”

“You shouldn’t have gone to her today, it’s too soon.”

“If we wait too long then we’ll lose our chance! Let’s take her now, she wants to be far away, so we’ll take her far away.”

“We need time, and permission.”

“Well, I know how to get one of those things.”

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

As the sun peeks through the bedroom window you attempt, and fail to stifle a groan. It might have been a good idea to bring curtains with you, but you suppose that it’s part of the woodsy experience. You sit up and stretch your arms high above your head, unaware of the creature slithering across the floor until you put your feet down and hear a hiss. Immediately you pull your feet back onto the bed with a high-pitched scream. The rattlesnake coils itself up and sets its eyes directly on you, only a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You mutter to yourself as you reach for your cellphone on the side table. Unfortunately for you, the snake leaps forward and takes a snap towards your arm, eliciting another screech from you and making you back yourself against the far corner of the bed. “Go to the woods, you thought, it’ll be a great experience!” You mock yourself, now looking for anything nearby that you could use as a weapon. You could toss the blanket over it and try to make a run for it, but what you miss or what if it still managed to get you?

“Y/N!” You hear Hizashi just outside the cabin.

“We heard a scream, is everything alright!?” Another voice joins him, likely his husband.

“N-No! There’s a snake in here!” You glance towards the window to see it cracked open. Didn’t you lock it last night? “I can’t get past it!” You hear some banging at the front door, but shouldn’t they have a key? Or maybe they didn’t want to just walk in? “The window to the room is open! Hurry!” How close is the nearest hospital if you get bit? How long would it take you to die?

When you see two figures come around to the bedroom window you feel like you could weep in relief, but they hesitate.

“Is it okay for us to come in? How close is the snake?” The dark-haired man asks, and in your panic you don’t even question the absurdity of the first question.

“I-It’s close to me, you can come in. Be careful though.” You’re much quieter now, thinking that maybe your yelling only made the creature on your floor angrier. Hizashi’s husband only then pushes the window further open, sticking one leg inside to stabilize himself before coming all the way in. The snake is too focused on you to notice the new intruder.

“Y/N, my name is Shouta, and I need you to follow my instructions. Can you do that for me?” His voice is low and smooth, it calms you instantly.

“O-Okay.”

“Good girl. Pick up the blanket from your bed very slowly, try not to make any sudden movements - he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” You highly doubt that, but nonetheless you lean down very slowly while Shouta sneaks around the back of the snake to grab the blanket. “Very good girl.” Your face flushes at the almost sensual compliment. “Now, throw it onto the snake. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” His reassurance calls you to action, tossing the thin blanket onto the snake. It hisses and wildly whips around under the blanket until Shouta manages to scoop up the blanket like a bag and tie it off. Just like that, your ordeal is over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now Y/N, Shou’s got the big bad snake.” Hizashi is suddenly by your side in an instant. When did he come through the window? His hand is on yours as he gently guides your shaky body off of the bed.

“I don’t even know how that thing got in, I-I locked every door and window last night! I double checked everything, I cleaned yesterday, I just don’t...” Why was the window open? Did she maybe get up last night and open it? It did get pretty hot last night... Quite suddenly, you’re extremely aware of how bare you feel in your cute light blue cotton shorts and black sports bra. You hadn’t even thought of it during your state of panic.

“I’m going to take this guy outside and let him go. Hizashi brought a dish over for you to try, if you want the company.” The two of them don’t seem to mind your half-dressed state, but you do.

“Sure, um, do you mind stepping out for a few minutes though.” You release Hizashi’s hand and grab the sheet from the bed to cover yourself. They understand pretty quickly, but both men didn’t mind it. If anything they want to see more of your soft, beautiful skin.

“Sorry ‘bout that beautiful! We’ll give ya some space!” With that, both men are leaving your presence and you feel like you can breathe a sigh of relief. What just happened? It feels like it all happened at once, but you can’t say that you aren’t relieved by their excellent timing. You decide to slip on some normal jean shorts and a faded AC/DC tee-shirt you got a few years back.

When you step out of the bedroom you can see Hizashi already bustling around the kitchen, humming in a way that made you feel warm little fuzzies on the inside. Shouta is sitting at the dining room table with his dark eyes shut. You take a moment to silently admire Hizashi’s husband. He’s more filled out than the lithe blonde, and while his black wavy hair is long, it’s only a few inches past his shoulders. And then she notices the deep scar just under his right eye.

“See something you like?” Your face once again turns red when you realize his eyes have opened and he’s looking directly at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare-”

“It’s alright. It’s the scar, right?” When he says this, Hizashi stops his cooking momentarily to look back at you and his husband.

“Oh, no! I don’t mind scars, scars can be sexy!” Why did you have to say that? An amused smirk slides across Shouta’s lips when you say this. Hizashi, meanwhile, lets out a chuckle that makes the air around you feel too light.

“Well of course scars are sexy! Why don’t you tell little bird how you got that scar?” As he says this you come to sit at the table. You may as well indulge them, they did come to your rescue after all.

“It’s not that interesting.” Shouta waves it off, but he can tell that you’re interested. “Unless you want to hear about it?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You shrug, and with that you get to spend the rest of your morning with the two men.

Apparently, Shouta had a run in with a man trespassing on the land and got a knife pulled on him. He said it wasn’t that interesting, but the way he told it captivated your interest. The guy was probably a hunter, or a thief, but they never found out. The local deputy came to get the guy after the confrontation, and that was that. They continued to talk with you long after breakfast had finished and you all had eaten, asking you about your interests, your passions, the reason why you came out here. You don’t know why, but when they ask you these questions you answer without a second thought. You think that it’s because no one has ever bothered to listen to you for this long, and the couple makes you feel as if you belong here, like you’re a person who deserves to be cherished. Originally you came here to be alone, but when you’re with them you feel something that you never felt back home. You just can’t quite describe it. Hours pass, and it’s well past noon when the two men decide to take their leave.

“If you see anymore snakes-”

“-Or if you just want our company-”

“-just give us a call on the landline.” Shouta finishes for the two of them as they walk out the front door.

“Sure thing, thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if you two hadn’t come over.”

“Probably woulda sat there, desperately waiting for your prince charming to come save you. Good thing you already have two of us.” Hizashi’s joke manages to get a little giggle out of you.

“You’re cheesy.” Shouta grumbles, though you could see a small smile on his face as well. “Come on, let’s leave Y/N alone.” You watch the two of them walk not down the dirt road that you drove on to get here, but back through the forest that encircles the cabin.

Once the couple is gone, it’s like you snap back to reality. This morning was crazy, and you got lucky, but you swore that you locked that window shut last night. Deciding that perhaps it was better to enjoy the rest of your day than continue to obsess over the snake incident, you take a sketch book and go out back to draw the pretty flowers in the field.

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

The night feels even hotter than the day, making it near impossible for you to cover up in any way. Long ago you stripped yourself bare, sprawling yourself on top of the covers with a sheen of sweat covering your body. If you didn’t feel the cool air struggling to reach you from the vents, then you would almost think the AC is broken. Currently, you’re half asleep in an almost dreamlike state. That’s when you hear a soft whisper.

“What is your wish?”

You turn on your side, letting out unintelligible mumbles. A more soothing, honeyed voice joins the first.

“What do you desire, little bird?”

That voice sends tingles all through your body, setting every nerve on fire. It compels you to answer.

“I want...” You mumbles, eyes half open and glazed over as you give your answer. “I want... Release...” You want to feel all of your stresses disappear as if they never existed.

“I’ll give you release, kitten.”

The voice no longer sounds far away, which snaps you out of that sleepy haze and once again makes you aware of your surroundings.Your eyes adjust to the darkness to find yourself no longer in the cabin, but surrounded by looming vertical objects... Trees?

“Shhh, don’t panic, we’re here.” There’s that voice again, the one that makes orgasmic waves pulse through your eardrums. It soothes any worries that you currently have as two hands come up to your shoulders and gently lay you onto the soft ground.

They prepared this place just for you. The cabin had been a front from the very beginning, a way to lure you away from bustling city life so they could give you what you wanted - release. You didn’t know it, but you had met Shouta months before this at a little bakery just down the street from your work. You had been complaining on the phone about your new boss and how stressed you were because of your obligations, and you wished that someone would take you away from your own life. Unknowingly, you had called upon the closest Jinn in the area, and he had already taken notice of you.

“Be gentle with her, it could be her first time.”

“It’s definitely not. But don’t worry, I took care of the ex months ago.”

You can vaguely hear the conversation of the two men looming over you, but you do not react. On the inside you feel fear, vulnerability, and confusion. You can’t quite make out the figures above you, but you recognize the voices; your hosts, Shouta and Hizashi. You just can’t comprehend why they are doing this. Earlier today they were fine, sure they were getting a little too close and asking too many questions, but you wouldn’t say they invaded your space... Or did they?

“Took care of?”

“Nothing like that, he wished for a job in France, so I got him the job in France... But, he might not like that job very much.” You can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “It was necessary.”

“Agreed.” The hands that had pushed you back onto the pillowy moss are now moving down your sides, just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. You barely register the sigh of pleasure that leaves your lips at the tantalizing contact.

“Zashi...”

“What? Isn’t this what we wanted?”

“We need permission.”

“We have permission! You heard the wish!”

“It was vague. I want details.” Suddenly, you can feel another set of hands gently massaging your bare feet, then moving up your smooth legs to part them at the thighs. The exposure makes you whimper, though there’s little you can do beyond that. “Release your influence, Hizashi.”

“But if we do that-”

“Release her. I want to hear her.” With what sounds like a huff of frustration from the blonde, that hazy feeling that had come over you suddenly dissipates. Your vision becomes more clear along with the two entities above you.

Hizashi has moves your arms so they’re now pinned above your head, preventing you from covering your bare breasts from their view. Shouta still has your legs spread on either side of you, but he doesn’t move any further. You meet his eyes, eyes that had been onyx earlier in the day but now glow an eerie shade of red.

“Months ago you wished to be taken away from your life. Do you remember that, Y/N?” You can’t focus on Shouta’s voice, all you can focus on is your current situation. Tings sting the edges of your eyes, and your throat starts to close up.

“P-Please...”

“She’s not going to respond like this, Shou.”

“She will, be patient. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” His voice is stern. Even though you want to look away, you once again meet his gaze. “What do you wish for now?”

“Let m-me go!” That’s your first thought, but then you feel one of Shouta’s hands creeping further up your thigh, his fingers just barely brushing over your outer lips.

“Do you mean that?” You nod your head frantically, and unbeknownst to you Shouta’s partner is giving him an incredulous look. “So, you want to go back to that stressful life in the city? You want your asshole boss to walk all over you, making you feel like you’re the scum of the earth? You want your parents to treat you like you mean nothing?” He emphasizes the final word with a hiss, and this seems to get to you. Your sniffling briefly ceases, though you’re still tugging against the tight hold of both of the men as if you could escape.

“What are you?”

“A Jinn, kitten. Do you know what a Jinn is?” You nod you head - you’re aware of the mythology behind beings like him, but how does he exist? They’re fictional! “Months ago I heard your desperate plea, and ever since then I’ve been eager to give you want you want... For a price.” His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, making your body stiffen.

“F-For sex?”

“For partnership. To be with me, to be with Hizashi, to be with both of us. It does get lonely out here.”

“And I can’t leave.” Hizashi pipes in with a sad smile. “I’m a Siren tied permanently to this forest. Remember the story about the man with a knife? He was going to hurt this place, so we had no choice. Once this place is gone, so am I.” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your skin.

“You don’t need me though, I don’t need your wishes or whatever! I want to...” You wish that you could say that you want to go home, but do you? Despite your current circumstances, you found yourself considering this deal.

“If you’re here, then Hizashi won’t be alone. I can go out for supplies without worrying about him.”

“And if you’re here, you won’t have to deal with those pesky worries you had before little bird. You get to have fun, be free, be loved by us.” But why you? Why did they want to take you?

“Because you’re special, Y/N. Because out of everyone in that city, you were the one who wanted to escape the most, who cared but wasn’t cared for. You deserve us.” Shouta drives his point home here, but he hopes that it will be enough. After all, he would prefer your consent, but it’s not entirely needed here.

“Okay.” You whisper. After all, what’s really waiting for you back home? Misery and paperwork, that’s what.

“Okay what?”

“You need to be more specific, Y/N.” You take a deep, shuddering breath before you speak again.

“I-I want release, I don’t want to go home anymore.”

“And in exchange?” Shouta pushes, his eyes glowing as he stares into yours.

“In e-exchange, I’ll stay here. I’ll be your... Partner.”

That seems to be all that they need from you, because in the next moment the two men above you are no longer clothed. You squeak and shut your eyes - it’s not the first time you’ve seen a naked man, but usually they don’t just pop out in front of you like that!

“You’re little noises are so cute.” Hizashi uses one of his knees to keep your wrists pinned above your head so his hands could get to work. While your eyes are still closed you feel his soft fingers run across your neck and past your collarbone, headed straight for your breasts. But just before they can get there, a pair of lips smash to yours. Shouta’s tongue flicks out at your bottom lip, beckoning you to allow him inside. Just at that moment, Hizashi’s fingers find your pert nipples, giving each of them a tiny pinch. This causes you to moan, and Shouta takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth to get a taste.

You can feel Shouta’s thick erection against your cunt, twitching in anticipation. It has been awhile since you’ve had another man, and you have to admit that the thought of being railed by these very good looking men wasn’t so bad. You start to becoming lightheaded from the kiss and constant ministrations of your sensitive nipples when Shouta finally pulls away from the kiss to let you breathe.

“Good girl.” He brings his thumb up to wipe away some of the saliva from around your lips. “We’ll put this to more use later. For now, I want to see you cum.” In what feels like two seconds Shouta is suddenly between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could get a good view of your waiting, wet pussy. He blows cool air over your sensitive little nub, making it quiver and throb in anticipation. Meanwhile, Hizashi finally leans down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the little bug while his fingers continue to tug and pinch the other. Your head sits in the blonde’s lap, his cock mere inches away from your face.

“Do you want to suck me, little bird?” As he says this in that low, melodic voice of his, Shouta flicks his tongue over your clit, making your writhe under them.

“Careful, she almost came.”

“Is my voice too much for you?” You can only pant in response, letting out a soft moan when Shouta flicks his tongue over your little nub again.

“Answer him, or we’ll make this last.”

“Y-Yes... It’s... I makes me feel good.” His voice makes you feel like you could orgasm in seconds.

“And do you want to suck daddy’s cock?” The way he words it makes you whine, but you nonetheless give him an answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes... Daddy.” The instant that you finish that sentence, Shouta’s mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it so harshly that you can feel your head spin. Hizashi repositions himself so he’s kneeling right over your face, running his fingers through your hair as he guides your lips to his tip. You take his tip into your mouth and suck it softly, eliciting a groan from the man that gets sent straight to your groin.

“Fuck, just her lips are almost enough... Come on honey, you can take me deeper.” And you do, you try to relax your throat so you can take Hizashi’s cock deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his base, all while Hizashi has his hands continually playing with your nipples, never letting up.

Shouta continues his work between your legs, nipping softly at your clit while bringing a finger to your entrance. He gently pushes it inside of you, giving it a few thrusts before adding a second. You adjust tremendously well. He can already feel your wet cavern clenching tightly around his fingers as he curls his digits upwards. To this you give him a sweet little cry, which only results in Shouta setting a relentless pace. He pounds those fingers into you, hitting your sensitive spot with such precision that you can hardly focus on the cock in your mouth all while sucking and swirling his expert tongue over your swollen clit until you finally clench tightly around his fingers and cry out with your first orgasm of the evening.

Hizashi slows down the thrusts into your mouth as Shouta pulls away from between your legs, slowly pulling himself out as well. For a moment you’re confused, wondering why they could pull away when they haven’t found relief yet, only to be suddenly pulled forward so you’re hovering right over Shouta’s thick length. Hizashi comes up behind you, pressing soft kisses and nipples to the soft spot on your neck - he’s going to leave plenty of marks here later.

“Do you think you can take both of us?” Shouta asks, momentarily confused you until you realize what he means.

“I’ve never done it, um, there before.”

“We can make it easy, if you let us. It’ll only feel good.” Hizashi assures you, rubbing comforting circles into your thighs.

“We want to make you feel good.” Shouta adds, both hesitating until they see you nod your head once again.

“Okay.” You still feel nervous, but you want to feel good, and so far it feels really good.

Shouta helps your ease yourself onto his dick, pressing gently into your waiting pussy while giving your already oversensitive clit little flicks from his thumb. Once he has settled deep within you, you feel Hizashi spread your ass cheeks and press a finger into you. Your face burns from slight embarrassment, but admittedly as he begins to move the saliva covered digit in and out of you, you find yourself enjoying it. You try to move whilst on top of Shouta, but he grabs your hips to keep you still.

“Wait.” He commands, smirking at your impatient whine. That whine then turns into a gasp as you feel a second finger being pressed into your rear hole, nibbling on your bottom lip as an uncomfortable burning sensation takes place of the previous pleasure.

“Relax for me, little bird.” Hizashi whispers, and like his words work magic you instantly relax and that burning sensation goes away. He pumps those a few times while your juices continue to drench Shouta’s cock, then they’re gone, replaced instead by Hizashi’s pulsating member. “Stay relaxed, and take a few breaths.” Hizashi murmurs, placing a few soft kisses to your neck as he pushes himself into you.

At first you feel that uncomfortable burning sensation once again, but then that changes to a fullness that gives you pleasure. You huff in lust as Hizashi pushes the full of his length into you, both men temporarily remaining still while you adjust. Your back is pressed flush against Hizashi’s chest, so you can feel his heartbeat rhythmically hammering against you while they both wait.

“Please...”

“Please what?” Shouta once again brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, making you whimper.

“Please, make me yours.”

As if you said the magic words, both men suddenly begin to move within you. Shouta keeps your hips stilled while rolling his own to thrust up into you, meanwhile Hizashi wraps one arm around your waist to grope your breast. You feel his teeth graze against your shoulder with enough pressure to bruise, but you don’t care, you’re in a euphoric state right now.

Shouta keeps your clit busy with his thumb while the both of them pick up their paces, the sound of sweaty skin slapping together resonating throughout the dense forest. You can feel your next orgasm already building as the two of them continue at their brutal pace, the feeling of your holes clenching around them driving them absolutely wild with lust - they’re not going to last much longer, either.

“Fuck - we love you, kitten.”

“Yesss, we love you so much little bird.” Hizashi grunts into your ear, and while you can’t say it yet, you’re sure that it won’t take but a few months before you’re saying the same words back.

All it takes is one well timed thrust against your g-spot and another flick to your clit before you’re clamping down on both men and letting out a long, strangled moan with your second orgasm. Shouta follows quickly behind you along with Hizashi, both men pressing deep within you before they spill their seeds. They stay inside of you even afterwards, letting you back in your afterglow as they both praise you, pressing kisses over your skin and telling you how great you did for them.

It’s too late for you to turn back now. You’ve made the deal, and you sealed it the second that you said yes.

#erasermic x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #smut #monster au #why do i do this to myself #i really need to get on that novel #i could have done so much work by now DX #erasermic x fem!reader

[sortasirius]

“Unity” and the Broken Boys

BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME

This is....one of the best episodes in the show.  Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst.  Tbh Dean deserves it.

“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”

“The only way.  Our one shot.  Our Last chance.  You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”

“We don’t have to like it, alright?  But you and me, we gotta get it done.”

Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode.  She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck.  I love her.

Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad.  I love him eternally.  He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world.  Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it.  How do you support your child when their life is at stake?

“Come on man.  Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”

“It doesn’t matter how we feel!  You know what?  Stay.  Stay.  Someone has to be the grown up here.”

“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”

“He knows what he signed up for!”

“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”

“Jack’s not family.”

Y’all should have heard the noise I made.  What a fucking line.

“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you.  He’s not like Cas.  He’s just not.”

“I’m- I’m ready.”

You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes.  You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them?  It’s unthinkable.

Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.

“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh?  I woulda done the same.”

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic.  Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened.  You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.

“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part.  Gross.”

What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along.  They HAVE free will, just not total free will.  Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write.  Obviously, this comes into play later. 

I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance.  I also think that in particular will come into play.

“Balance.  Something we’ve never tried before.  Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world.  True balance.  The way it was always meant to be.  But you can’t.  You only care about your pleasure, your story.  Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”

“Villains get all the best lines.”

We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable.  He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything.  He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

Pain is the name of the game in this section homies.  Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s.  Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals.  Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.

Adam.  The first man.  And Seraphina.  The angel.

“My old lady.  She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”

Yeah okay.  Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons.  The theme of protecting the children strikes again.

“Killing God is your plan?”

“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”

This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.

Adam’s rib.

And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?

It’s fine, that’s fine.  I’m fine with that.

“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive.  Not really.  You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free.  But now?  Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs.  And that’s, that’s because of you.  So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack.  Thank you.”

I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important:  Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said.  He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it?  He can’t stand for that.

And:

Dean has finally pushed through the barrier.  He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore.  This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is.  The Empty.

It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place.  For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”

This has always been the game, since season 13.  This is the longest of long games.

Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.

He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.

“You hear that?  Dean, brought to the edge of doubt.  His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end.  And poor Sam, always gotta know everything.  Can’t leave well enough alone.  This is my ending, my real ending.”

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

Hmm...what did I say during 15x05?  Oh yeah, this.

And:

Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom.  His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.

Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas?  I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.

Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates.  He can’t lose Cas.  But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.

“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”

“We always have a choice!”

You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.

And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.

“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants!  I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck.  In a heartbeat!”

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

“Chuck has to die.  He has to!  Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”

“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me.  My entire life, you’ve protected me.  From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything.  I didn’t always like it, you know?  But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true.  So please, put the gun away.  Just put it away.  We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me.  We always do.”

Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come.  Because fuck.  After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John.  John.  On a par with Lucifer.

Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other.  Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other.  But this?  This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad.  This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time.  Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.

(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)

Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices.  And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.

“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday.  You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”?  They did what they were told.  But not you.  Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.  Every one told him the same thing.  And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different.  Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?

And there’s our endgame people.  Laid out on the line.

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:

So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18.  I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.

What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.

#welcome to my essay lmao #supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x17 #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #amara #chuck shurley #lilly liveblogs supernatural

[spiltscribbles]

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

.-

SEND ME A PROMPT  |  A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

.-

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam. 

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out. 

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad. 

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel 

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover 

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

.-

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

.-

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink  like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair. 

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.” 

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words. 

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other. 

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think  that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

.-

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR ANGST #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #SPILT INK #I AM A MESS #I HATE ME LMFAO

[engie-ivy]

Everyone seems to think it's just the most hilarious prank Sirius was given a potion to make him think he's in love with Remus. Remus himself, however, doesn't quite like hearing Sirius say everything he's been secretly dreaming of, and not meaning a word of it. However, there might be a bit of truth to Sirius’ words. Or a whole lot of truth.

Truth Be Told

Remus is haggard. After a long day of classes, he has spent the evening tutoring a second-year Hufflepuf, and it would surprise Remus if the boy can even tell the front from the back of his wand. All Remus wants now is to drop down on a couch, and unwind with his friends. As he enters the Gryffindor common room, he spots them sitting at the back and makes his way over.

“Wotcher, Moony,” James greets. “You look bloody knackered!”

“Alright, Moony?” Peter grins. “Long night?”

“Moony!” Sirius says. “I’m so glad you’re back. Even when it’s just an hour, I miss you whenever we’re not together. You light up any room you enter, no matter how tired you look. Just the sight of you makes my heart skip a beat, as you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

The boys all fall silent and stare. Remus blinks a couple of times. Then James bursts out laughing, quickly joined by Peter. Horror appears on Sirius’ face and he clasps a hand over his mouth.

“Eh,” Remus says hesitantly, as he sits down. “What’s going on?”

James, still laughing, wipes a tear away from his eyes. “D’you remember how Sirius hexed McKinnon last week, making everything she ate taste like earwax for the entire day?”

Remus nods. As funny as the prank may have seemed, dealing with an angry and hungry Marlene McKinnon hadn’t been an experience worth repeating.

“Well, she got back at him just now by spiking his Pumpkin Juice with some sort of potion, but so far, we hadn’t figured out what kind of potion. Until now, that is!”

“A Love Potion?” Remus asks incredulously.

Sirius, face bright red, is pointedly not looking at Remus.

“The potion must have made him so head-over-heels, he’s too overwhelmed by your all-encompassing beauty,” Peter snickers.

Remus is still stunned. “Why a Love Potion to make him fall in love with me, though?”

James shrugs. “Girls have a weird sense of humour, mate.”

Remus shakes his head. “That’s ridiculous!”

James wants to say something, but Sirius cuts him off. “There’s nothing ridiculous about being in love with you!” He exclaims. “You’re the kindest person there is. You have such a good heart, and you’re always there for me, no matter what. You always make everyone feel at ease. You’re clever, hardworking, and strong. I don’t understand how everyone isn’t in love with you! And Merlin, you’re so attractive. The way you bite your lip when you’re trying not to laugh is so bloody sexy.”

Sirius isn’t the only one blushing now, as Remus feels his own cheeks heat up. “Err, thanks,” he mumbles.

James and Peter, however, nearly fall off the couch laughing. “This is gold!” James manages to say in between his laughs.

Remus doesn’t agree. He finds it more embarrassing than funny that apparently, McKinnon thought making him in love with Remus was the best joke she could play on Sirius. And even worse, and Remus will take this secret to his grave, like a bloody twelve-year-old who reads too many romance novels, he occasionally fantasizes about Sirius illuminated by candlelight, holding his hands, waxing poetically about his undying love for Remus. To now hear Sirius say similar words, without meaning any of them, is definitely more painful than funny.

Sirus doesn’t seem amused by it either. “I’m sorry,” he says miserably. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this! I mean, I know I don’t have a chance with you, Moony. You’re such a good person, so much better than me. I truly don’t deserve you.”

“Merlin,” Peter laughs. “Sirius Black thinking he’s not good enough? I wouldn’t have thought it possible! What the hell did McKinnon give him for a Love Potion?”

Remus wonders that as well, as he watches Sirius hide his face in his hands. With the Love Potions Remus knows, the person under the influence at least doesn’t realise how insane they’re acting, but poor Sirius seems perfectly aware.

“Moony,” Sirius says pleadingly. “Normally, I think every minute spent apart from you is a minute wasted, but as I can’t seem to stop embarrassing myself in front of you, would you mind terribly to maybe stay away from me until the potion has worn off?”

“You really do say the most ridiculous things,” Peter agrees.

Sirius glares at him. “You calling me confessing my deepest feelings ridiculous is actually really hurtful, Peter.”

Peter blinks at him.

“Right,” Remus says, getting to his feet. “Yes. That would probably be best. Just... take care, and let me know if you need me.”

“I always need you, Remus,” Sirius says. “And I always will.”

“Err, right. Yes. Okay. Great. Eh, bye then.” Remus hurries away.

As Remus makes his way through the common room, he walks past Marlene, Lily and Mary sitting together at a table.

“Oi, Lupin!” Marlene calls, with a smug smile. “Is Black having a nice evening?”

Remus folds his arms over his chest. “You think you’re bloody funny, don’t you, McKinnon?”

Lily raises her eyebrow. “Come on, Remus. Black had it coming.”

“I suppose he had,” Remus sighs. It’s true. Marlene and Sirius are always pulling pranks on each other and retaliating. “But next time, please leave me out of it!”

“Leave you out of it?” Marlene repeats. “When have I ever gotten you into it?”

“Please, a Love Potion to make him confess to being in love with me?” Remus rolls his eyes. “I can understand how you’d think Sirius Black fancying me is just the biggest joke, but please, don’t.”

The girls fall silent.

Mary is staring at Remus with wide eyes. Lily is nervously tugging at her braid. Marlene is shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“What?”

Marlene and Lily exchange a look, then look back at Remus. “Eh, Remus,” Marlene says carefully. “The potion I gave Black wasn’t a Love Potion.”

Remus begins to ask “Then why-” But Marlene continues talking. “It was Veritaserum.”

Sirius is lying face-down on his bed, wondering if there’s a spell that can make the ground swallow him up whole. Damn Marlene and her damn Truth Potion! At least his friends, and most importantly Remus, had assumed it was a Love Potion. Luckily, James and Peter had eventually left him alone, thinking that the fun was over anyway after Remus left, so perhaps the universe doesn’t completely hate him.

He has barely finished the thought, or the door to the dorm opens. Sirius glances up, and when he sees Remus walk in, he considers smothering himself in his pillow.

“Moony,” Sirius groans. “Please. I really want to be alone.” For once, he and the Truth Potion are in perfect agreement on what to say.

Remus ignores him and sits down cross-legged at the foot of Sirius’ bed with a huge grin on his face, because, yes, the universe has it out for Sirius. Sirius pushes himself up and wraps his arms around his legs. “While normally I would be thrilled to have you on my bed,” Sirius says, because of-bloody-course he does. “Right now, you shouldn’t-”

“What potion did McKinnon give you?” Remus interrupts.

Sirius opens his mouth to say it’s the Love Potion, but what comes out instead is “Veritaserum,” which, really, he should’ve expected. He wonders if it’s too late to still smother himself in his pillow.

Remus grins brightly at him. He knew, Sirius thinks. The bloody bastard already knew.

“You know,” Sirius says irritably. “I’m so gone for you that you could probably push me out of the window, and I’d still be smitten,” has he mentioned that the universe hates him? “But I must say, Remus, it kind of hurts that you found out my deepest secret and came here to rub it in my face and laugh about it.”

Remus seems a little taken aback by Sirius’ blatant honesty, but he should’ve known that’s what he would get. “What? No,” he says quickly. “I’m not laughing about your feelings! Or well, maybe I am laughing about your feelings, but because I’m happy about your feelings!”

Sirius looks away and mutters “Well, I’m glad you at least enjoy my desperate pining.”

Remus moves forward, and places a hand on Sirius’ cheek to gently turn his head back to him.

“You on my bed, sitting this close, and touching my face like that is Doing Things to me,” Sirius says, and he kind of wishes Remus had pushed him out of the window.

Remus lets out a breathless laugh. “Good, because what I wanted to say is, I’m happy about your feelings, because I most definitely return them. I’m gone for you too.”

Sirius’ eyes widen. “Really?” He breathes.

Remus smiles softly at him. “Really. I’m not taking any Veritaserum, though, so you’re going to have to take my word for it.”

Emboldened by the notion that he can’t possibly embarrass himself more than he already has, Sirius shifts a little closer understand. “You know,” he says, nervously licking his lips. “They say actions speak louder than words.”

Remus immediately understands. The hand on Sirius’ cheek moves to his neck and the next moment, they’re kissing.

Sirius briefly chases Remus’ lips as the other boy pulls away, and sighs while he blinks open his eyes. Kissing Remus is the best feeling in the world, leaving him dizzy, and rather hot and bothered. And of course, in his current state, he immediately informs Remus about this.

A flush appears on Remus’ cheeks and he chuckles. Sirius hides his face in his hands and groans. “And just like that, I turned the best moment of my life into the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

Remus grabs his wrists to pry his hands away from his face. “No, Pads, it’s okay! More than okay. I love kissing you as well.”

Sirius lowers his hands and looks into Remus’ soft, honey-coloured eyes, that look back at him affectionately. “I love you,” he breathes.

Remus lets go of his wrists and his eyes widen in shock.

Sirius winches. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wouldn’t normally go from first kiss to full-blown love confession in like zero seconds, but that damned potion! That potion goes by the rule ‘if you feel a strong emotion, immediately speak it out loud’, and loving you is the strongest emotion I’ve ever felt.”

Remus’ eyes widen even more.

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius says. “I’m only making it worse, aren’t I? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to freak you out like this.”

“No, it’s... I mean, I...” Remus scrapes his throat. “I don’t mind. I admit, it’s all going a bit fast, and I wasn’t expecting a love confession so soon, but I think I’m... happy?” Remus lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry, this is all very new to me.”

“It’s new to me too,” Sirius says softly, and then, just in case he hadn’t freaked Remus out enough, “You’re the first person I’ve ever said those words to.”

Remus nearly topples off the bed.

The universe must be having one hell of a laugh.

“Oh, bollocks!” Sirius says. “I keep saying these wildly inappropriate, way too intense things, for which it’s much too soon! I won’t blame you if you want to get away as fast as possible. As a matter of fact, you probably should stay away from me for now, before I end up telling you I’ve already been envisioning our wedding.” Sirius’ laugh sounds forced, and Remus’ sounds a little too high-pitched, and Sirius can see clear traces of panic in his eyes. Yet, Remus doesn’t move from the bed.

“You know,” Remus says a tad nervous. “Perhaps I could stay, but prevent you from speaking?”

“How are you...?”

Remus smiles shyly. “My idea was to keep your mouth... otherwise occupied?”

Sirius’ eyes widen, and then a bright smile appears on his face. “Remus Lupin, you always have the best ideas!”

Remus wakes up the next morning with Sirius’ body pressed against his back and Sirius’ arms around his waist. “Hmmm,” he hums happily, covering Sirius’ hands with his own. “I love waking up next to you.”

He can feel Sirius smile against his neck. “Me too. Waking up next to you and falling asleep next to you. Even your snoring is music to my ears.”

Remus snorts. “I gather the Veritaserum has worn off, huh?”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #veritaserum

[yesimwriting]

playing vices

“A/n a blurb bc ive been working on my novel and ive missed writing for Kirigan :))

--

I am a fool that has played into her vices enough to make them addictions. That must have been Kirigan's plan. He knows that I don't agree with his methods. He is also much too aware of the fact that I am beyond attached to him. He plays into that fact often, lulling me to him whenever he feels that my conscious is in danger of driving a wedge between us.

Which is why I have become accustomed to falling asleep while running my fingers along his skin as he whispers things much sweeter than anything he would say while fully awake.

But now it's late and he's not here. I sit up, kicking the comforter off of me slightly. It seems Aleksander has been more and more absent these days. When he's not with me, the odds that he's doing something that hurts people are high. His absence is also starting to make me feel like he's losing interest in me. It would make sense considering the fact that he looked twice at me in any capacity has never seemed logical.

Maybe that's why we've never indicated commitment to each other. I don't know what commitment would be with him. He seems to grand to be considered a 'boyfriend', but there's something more than friendly about how he holds onto me. I've never cared for labels until I started feeling displaced.

"You're still awake."

I press my lips together, trying to seem a little calmer. "Couldn't sleep."

"Troubling thoughts?" The question is more weighted than it should be. Everything with him is. 

“Has anyone ever called you dramatic?” 

His lips quirk upwards, hinting at a smile. Warmth pools in my stomach, the way it always does when he lets me see the slight glimmer of light that’s still in him. Sometimes I think he only shows me this softness when he feels that I may pull away. It may be rooted in manipulative intent, but I know that it’s real. 

“Only you would have the gall,” he says, voice low yet not dark. 

Kirigan’s easiness coaxes a smile from my lips. A small one, but I can feel the way the crack in my tension feeds his confidence. He takes pride in slipping past the walls I only try to create when cautious or irritated. Today I’m both but I need to pretend like I’m neither. The more resistance he senses, the more forward and effective his advances become. 

I keep my expression neutral. I’m sure Alina could get away with calling him that. I wish she was more unlikable. It would be easier to hide my irritation if I could blame that displaced feeling in my chest on two people. But of course Alina is wonderful, beautiful, and his equal.

Whatever. It’s not like we’re really anything. Every time I see him I wait for his betrayal. There’s nothing worth using me for, and somehow that makes me feel worse. He should have never looked at me twice let alone encourage whatever strange relationship we’ve created. 

My silence seems to displease him because he approaches my bedside easily in quick yet patient strides. Now that he’s close enough to touch I feel some of the ice I managed to solidify melt. 

Kirigan lifts a hand and places it on my knee easily. I stiffen instinctually, he runs his thumb over my skin to fight my resistance. “Who’s upset you?” 

I breathe, forcing myself to ease. “No one has.” I don’t have to meet his gaze to know he doesn’t believe me. That’s the core source of our attachment, we can read each other with less than a look. “I’m just getting a headache,” not a full lie, “I’ll feel better after some sleep.” He squeezes my knee slightly, a soft way of asking me for more. “I don’t think I’ll be good company tonight.” 

His hand leaves my knee, fingertips barely grazing my thigh as he moves his hand to hold beneath my chin. I still as he turns my head so that I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to be good company when what I want is your presence.” 

I press my lips together to avoid melting into the promising pools of warmth that make up his irises. He spent all day with Alina, took Zoya’s side in an argument I had with her earlier this week, and now he comes to me late at night. He seems to only want to acknowledge me when we’re alone, and it’s not like I want more than that. I just don’t know how long my heart will be able to teeter the line between nothing and something. I’m a fool for having let it go on this long. 

The only problem is that his steady stare is chasing away all of my rationality. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone more in the mood to offer their presence.” 

My curtness leaves something behind his expression dull, the hint of a smile that was growing on him has now vanished. I am met with a stoic disposition I have never had directed at me. 

“They’re not you,” he counters, voice edged by something I don’t understand. 

That’s the point. They’re not me--I’m average. I can’t offer power and my relationship experience is basic at best. I don’t want to have this argument, not when I’m basically fighting for him to let me go when that’s not what I want. 

I’m making it easier. If it hurts this much when I was only on the cusp of something, imagine the pain I’l feel if I let it continue. I turn my head away so that he’s no longer holding my chin. “Not a bad thing.” 

“To me it is.” He doesn’t hesitate, my chest swells. His thumb brushes against my cheek, soft and comforting. “I’m tired,” he says this like it’s a confession. His admission hangs in the air for a long moment, as heavy and weighted as my heart. “If you’re angry, wait until morning.” 

Something in my heart cracks. “I’m not angry.” My gaze drops, my thoughts struggling to come together. “I’ll be nicer to deal with in the morning.” 

“Y/n,” his tone twists from distant to warning, “the last time you asked me to leave was when you discovered something you didn’t like.” 

I almost wince at the way he’s worded it. When I found out what his real plans were, I told myself I had to leave. He skirted past all of my reservations and walls, twisting my doubt away through coddling whispers and shy brushes of fingers.

“This isn’t like that.” Not a lie. 

He exhales slowly, the sound dangerously sharp. “Then what is it?” 

“Why did you come here so late?” The question leaves me too sharply. I’m exposing too much but I can’t help it. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.” My voice is flat. “I’m sure Alina will be happy to fill me in.” I can’t bring myself to take in his reaction. “And if she can’t, I’m sure Zoya will be able to.” 

He’s silent for a long second. “Unwarranted jealousy doesn’t suit you.” 

His confidence sparks something angry within me.  “I am not jealous.” The most blatant lie of the night, but I don’t care. I turn my head to glare at him, “and don’t just tact on ‘unwarranted’ before something that’s true just because it’s easier for it not to be.” 

I watch his expression cautiously until the slightest tilt of his lips adds to my anger. He’s enjoying this or he did this intentionally or both. “Darling,” he hums, voice soft, “you are the only person that makes me feel peace.” 

My stomach flutters, the sensation threatening to break my weak resolve. “I am not particularly powerful,” I breathe, voice stiff, “or particularly...” How do I explain this all to him? “Anything.” He’s everything, and I am nothing but average. “I’m average at best, there’s no reason for you to want anything to do with me, and that’s fine--but don’t lie and pretend that that’s not true.” 

The sentence is barely out fo my mouth before I feel myself pulled towards him by the collar of my nightgown. His lips are on mine before I can question where this is going. I kiss him back too quickly, but any effort I expend is returned fervently.

He pushes me back slightly as quickly as he yanked me forward. He doesn’t explain. I don’t ask him to. I should demand an answer and shove him away from me or pull him back towards me. But I do nothing. I just stare at him as he stares at me. 

When the weight of the silence threatens to break something in me, I force myself to speak, “Kirigan--”

“Aleksander.” The name is soft and so fragile I worry it will shatter in the air before it can fully reach me. “You know there’s much I’m not ready to say, but that,” he exhales, the sound so sad I want to reach for him, “that is the one name I have not given to myself and I want you to have it.” Something conflicted crosses his features. “I would never give that to someone average.” 

Emotion swells in my chest, heavy yet not painful. “Aleksander.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to call to him or if I’m just trying to feel his name--his true name--on my lips. 

His eyes widen, something unbearable behind them. He moves the hand holding the collar of my nightgown to my cheek. I lean into the contact like a fool as his eyes flutter shut. “Say it again.” 

I don’t hesitate, “Aleksander.” I lift my hand, fingers hesitant to find their place on his cheek. “Aleksander.”

He sighs into both the contact and the name. “You’re the first thing I’ve allowed myself to want,” his eyes open, but I cannot bring myself to meet his gaze, “I should make you feel like it.”

Something about the way he says that is sad. “I think that if it’s fair to say you were a little distant, it’s just as fair to say that I was a little jealous.” 

Aleksander smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m tired,” he admits, “I’ll enjoy my victory in the morning.” 

I roll my eyes, but scoot over to give him a place by my side regardless. “I’m not sure you won, I think it was more of a draw.” 

He takes the space I offer quickly, never letting the contact between us disappear as he settles himself against my pillow. I let him pull me towards him. “This feels like a victory.” 

I try to ignore the warmth in my chest. “You’re lucky I’m tired enough to find that endearing.” 

I relax as his fingers trace shapes I’ll never know about onto my back. “I agree.” 

#shadow and bone #grisha #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #sab imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morovoza x reader #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you

[lunarastrobabe]

Rafe Adler x F!Reader- No Ordinary Love

(All Fluff)

The clock in the living room continued ticking, feeling like hours had gone by instead of minutes. Rafe was late coming home, instead of working at home like he had always done, he had been continuing his research for Avery’s treasure, the last few nights you had slept alone, either he hadn’t come home or he passed out from sleep deprivation. You had a few small arguments the mornings after, which normally resulted in shouting at each other, or you both feeling hurt and abandoned by one another, even if you didn’t admit it. He would leave at eight in the morning to go back to working, you spent the days by yourself, well, not always, the maid would be here every day to clean but she would take the time to talk to you and make you feel less lonely and disappointed.

Horrible things were said that night, hurtful things thrown back and forth, he slept in a spare bedroom, you didn’t sleep at all. You missed him, you missed everything about him, the smell of his expensive cologne, his minty breath, the smile he would greet you with when he’d come through the door or when he’d wake up knowing you were beside him. Even the little things, how his touch gave you that tingly butterfly feeling, the way he’d say ‘I love you’, or how he knew your favourite drink, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. And you loved hearing him talk about his work, but, you do wish he would take a break from looking for this treasure and spend time with you, it was taking up too much of his time but he insisted he was fine.

The maid was off duty tonight, you realised she needed some time off and honestly, you just wanted to be left alone, you were feeling too depressed to see anybody, checking your phone constantly for texts and missed calls from him, but there was nothing. Instead you scrolled through your photos, looking at pictures of the two of you, one of them was at a party event, you, in a very elegant dress and him in an expensive suit with his slicked back hair, his arm was around your waist and he was whispering something into your ear. You smiled remembering the good times. Exhaling, you got up from your shared bed and changed into one of his sweatshirts, grabbing a classic horror novel and left the room, closing the door behind you.

Before making your way into the large living room you stopped and made a detour to the kitchen, the white marble island top in the centre of the room, a single small crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, it was already dark outside and quite late, you expected him to come home by now considering it was past midnight. You set your book down on the counter and pulled open the fridge door, it was stacked with food, some drinks, beer, and other goodies. You grabbed some leftover takeout food and a bottle of water, taking a plate and finally setting yourself down on the velvet black couch. You pulled Rafe’s blanket over you, covering your legs from the cold.

You were halfway through your book already and you took your mind off of Rafe for the past hour, until you heard his car come up the driveway, hearing the large gates close. Normally he would have a chauffeur, but, it was him in the drivers seat. The headlights blinding you as it hit the windows. You pushed the book off of your lap and sat up, waiting for him to enter through the door. The lock clicked, the door slowly creaked open and there he was.

His hair had fallen in front of his eyes, he looked exhausted and stressed, instead of getting angry with him, your heart sank, you felt sympathy for him. He slid off his black jacket and it dropped onto the floor. Kicking off his black, Timberland boots and pushing them to the edge of the stairs. You just watched him, he didn’t register your presence until he heard you cough a little.

“You’re up late.” He said quietly. He walked his way over and sat on the couch beside you. The smell of his cologne made your heart flutter. Even years later in this relationship, he still made you feel like it was the first time you fell in love with him. His body was warm, his forearm grazed across yours, his skin was soft, his touch was gentle. People see him as cold but you knew him better than anybody.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You said in the same tone as him. You wanted to hold him, but you two had barely said a word to each other since the fight. You looked down at his hands, and then his watch, just admiring how he looked.

You reached up and moved the stray hairs from his eyes, stroking his cheek. You smiled a small smile. Rafe needed the love more than you did right now, you wanted to take care of him this time. He deserved at least, that. You held his hand in yours and locked your fingers with his. You stood up from the couch, not letting go of him. He stood up along with you, and you led him upstairs to your shared bedroom on the second floor, not for sex, but just for the comfort he desperately needed from you. No words needed to be said, he wouldn’t admit he was sorry but you knew he was.

You let go of his hand and entered the dark room, you kept the lights off and laid on the bed, laying on your left side. He sluggishly walked over and slumped on the bed, his eyes closed, watching his chest rise and lower at his breathing. He stretched his arm out and rested it across your body, gently pulling at your waist for you to move closer. “C’mere.” He mumbled. You shuffled over to him and wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to your body, his head resting under your neck.

You waited ten minutes before asking him about the treasure hunting. His breathing was content and calm. “So, did you uh,- did you find anything new about Avery’s treasure?” You whispered, stroking his back with your hand. He sighed, annoyed but not because of you. He felt disappointed in himself, he felt as though it was his fault he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“No,” He said firmly. “Just more goddamn dead ends.” You pulled the covers over the both of you, listening to him.

“You’ll find it, I know you will, Rafe.” His heart had a warm feeling with those words that you spoke. Your encouragement and belief in him, was enough for him to keep going. You were his lucky charm. He pressed a light kiss to your skin, it was his way of thanking you without actually saying the words.

Another hour went by, and neither of you were asleep. It was three in the morning, a few cars drove by the mansion, watching headlights sprint across the glass windows, some birds were chirping already, and the moonlight was shining into the room. You two spoke all night long about his findings, his searches and the future plan for his success.

Rafe stretched and sat up, scratching his head, and slid off his black shirt and jeans and left them on the bedroom floor before sliding back into the bed. He got into a comfortable position and faced you, admiring your features, his blue-green eyes showing love and kindness even when his face didn’t show it. He loved you, more than anything, possibly more than this treasure, but, you were sure it wasn’t an ordinary relationship being with him. It was difficult, things would go wrong but most of the time it went right, and you both made it work, sticking together as a team, through thick and thin. He moved some hair from your face, his fingertips brushing past your cheeks.

“What are you doing?” You whispered again and looked at him, a smile brought to your face, when you saw a smile appear on his own. You were buried in the covers but he brought you towards him. The smell of blood orange and sandalwood was a scent you had always remembered whenever he was around. He felt like home, like the safest place in the world was with him.

He said nothing and instead leaned in and kissed your lips. It was tender, loving and soft. He loved you, for a very long time, in his mind, he promised to love you forever, and that was something he intended to keep. You were, and always will be, his girl.

#rafe adler #rafe x reader #rafe adler x reader #uncharted #uncharted 4 #imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #uncharted x reader #a thiefs end #uncharted a thiefs end #uncharted 4: a thief's end

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 9

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: DO NOT YELL AT ME! It is going to be okay. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

You had a secret.

For such an abstract and shapeless thing you could sure feel it sitting in there.

It was pulsing.

Your secret felt like a splinter lodged just under a single taste bud that sat in the center of your tongue. You could feel your white blood cells attacking it, trying their best to push it up and push it out, but still it clung tight with its sharp barbs lodged within your cell walls. You brushed your tongue against your teeth.

The secret did not budge.

What you knew about them though, was that secrets did not like to stay hidden forever.

Your fork slipped and clanked noisily against the ceramic plate and the bright orange carrot ball rolled across the smooth white surface nearly sliding over the edge onto the white linen. Whoever decided that your steamed vegetables needed to be shaped into spheres simply for aesthetics should be forced to come out here and explain how you were supposed to spear one of these things while also avoiding the risk of it shooting across the table and hitting your date in the face.

Ben turned out to be very nice. If you were into tall, handsome, clean-looking, and responsible guys who drove their own cars and also had things like health insurance and retirement plans. When you first saw him, you were struck by the firmness you felt when he shook your hand and smiled brightly at you. He had all of his teeth and a head full of hair. He was definitely walking around on his real legs too. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t let the clean laundry sit in the dryer for longer than a day and changed out his toothbrush every three months. You couldn't see a single fault.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression.

Really, you were.

Well, while also keeping an eye on Baekhyun who sat beside you with his focus down on his plate as he sliced his food into bite sized bits. His control of the fork and knife felt so careful and so exacting, it neared obsession. He had not ordered the steamed vegetables. None of his food rolled.

Across from him, looking just as cute in person as her online dating profile pictures conveyed, was Mia.

Mia was fine.

She was fine.

You didn't want to get into it.

Her clothes were fine. They were exactly the kinds of clothes you had expected she would wear.

Her hair was fine.

She actually had a hairstyle that reminded you of one of the characters in an anime you watched with Baekhyun once and you wondered about the upkeep costs of that particular shade of blue that streaked through her hair. You wondered if she had to switch to blue towels and blue pillow cases or if everything in her house was just stained forever.

Baekhyun’s cheeks blushed when he shook her hand and his smile was bashful, if not a bit tight when she complimented his glasses. Your mind briefly considered the plush, expensive white towels you both owned at home and a flash of horror overcame you for a split second when you imagined those towels streaked with a blue stain from the shower.

He bought those glasses at a store. Anyone can go to the store and buy glasses. Did such a superficial compliment really warrant such a deep shade of pink on his cheeks?

You took a sip of your glass of wine and the sweet, cool liquid had a tart aftertaste that lingered on your taste buds long after you swallowed and you stabbed roughly at the runaway carrot again, impaling it with the prongs of your fork.

Finally.

“I got it,” you said out loud to yourself with a wide smile and you held your prize up in front of your face for a second. Long enough for your eyes to drift across your table to meet Ben’s and you caught the soft amused chuckle that puffed from his nose.

You’d already gotten through the backstory. Starting with the curious question from Mia about how you and Baekhyun got to know each other and you took a quick glance toward Ben as Baekhyun explained that you and he had been roommates for a couple of years. You caught the slight smile on Ben’s lips as he looked down into his water glass and you wondered if he was pleased that he already knew the answer to this question as you had been quick to tell him this important detail about your life as you chatted with him during the last week or so.

Mia on the other hand simply let her eyes drift over from Baekhyun’s face to land on yours for a moment and you offered a disarming smile by way of explanation. Not that either of you had any explaining to do. You could live with whoever you wanted to live with. It took her ten seconds to return your smile, although you didn't quite believe it, or believe that she was done with her curiosities about this topic.

You couldn't really blame her although you’d given her nothing to be suspicious about. Not in the last 20 minutes since you’d all arrived and nibbled on shared appetizers, at least.

Hell, you hadn’t even touched him all day. From before you both arrived at this fancy restaurant and just relinquished your coats to some stranger simply because she held a hand out and sported a severe enough hairdo and manic look in her eyes that was too frightening to question. From the morning when you woke up and wandered into your kitchen to make toast for one and you ignored the sound of his feet shuffling in, half-asleep to grab a yogurt from the fridge. You hadn’t even helped him style his hair; which looked stunning, by the way, with the waves and the faded brown color that absolutely looked like something the perfect boyfriend would let you play with as he laid on your lap. He hadn’t even asked for your help picking out his outfit. He’d simply done it all on his own and waited for you by the front door wearing those jeans and smelling like that familiar scent that he bought for your date with him weeks back.

When had this all become so awkward? You’d never been afraid to touch Baekhyun before but now, well, the touches hadn’t ever concealed quite so much meaning before.

By the time the entrees arrived the conversations had moved on to hobbies and interests.

Ben was a movie buff, and his favorites were mostly mainstream blockbusters of the Marvel Superhero variety. He enjoyed many of the genres of films you’d mostly seen just the previews of. His top ten contained a bit more horror than you were comfortable with. One in particular, a prolific film based on a Steven King novel, had been the kind of psychologically terrifying film that made your chest rattle and you had spent most of the second half of that movie with your face buried in Baekhyun’s arm begging him to just describe to you what was happening and to tell you when the scary parts were over.

When he asked you what your favorite movie was you hesitated for a moment before pulling the movie Forrest Gump out of basically thin air. Yes you had enjoyed the movie. Yes it was something you’d seen more than once and if it was on television right now you would sit down and watch it from start to finish and you would enjoy it. It was a respectable favorite to have. It was the kind of favorite movie you would not be embarrassed to show to your grandmother.

But it wasn’t actually your favorite and you could feel the burden of Baekhyun’s eyes as he turned his head to look at your face when you said it.

Something about naming, out loud with your own lips — the light and fun, mindless guilty pleasure of the film that was actually your favorite movie that you’d watched hundreds of times and returned to watch again and again every time you felt even a little bit upset; something about saying it out loud to this table of people with countless of hours of media consumption under their belts and opinions about things like prolific directors, production companies, hefty CGI budgets, and overused, tired tropes that absolutely should be dropped in 2021, well it just felt too vulnerable for you to say out loud.

You swallowed a sip of your wine and refused to turn your head to look at Baekhyun until you heard the sound of his throat swallowing the ice water he sipped.

When Mia changed the topic to Anime you felt Baekhyun come alive beside you and Ben slinked back in his seat a little as the two of them got to talking about something that was highly anticipated and was slated to be released next year. Rumors about artists and directors with names you could not know flew easily from their lips and Mia mentioned the name of one previous work that you recognized.

In fact you had watched the entire thing last year with Baekhyun and you remembered talking excitedly about it with Mia during one of your early text conversations.

Your face lit up and you happily joined in, excited to finally know what in the world they were talking about when you accidentally let something slip when you reminded her of what she had said about the anime before. Luckily you stopped yourself before you could admit that you had actually been the one she had been chatting with at the time.

Still, she caught it. She was very quick and sharp and you watched her face as she registered that you’d referenced something that only Baekhyun should know about. Had you just fucked up?

“Ahh, we,” you raised your index finger and waved it lightly toward where Baekhyun had stiffened up in his seat beside you, “he told me about what you said.”

There was a moment when her eyes widened and she looked at Baekhyun briefly before returning her focus to you.

“He...told you about me?” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back and leaned forward with her forearms rested in front of her plate on the table. Her off-the-shoulders number dipped when she leaned in and you caught a bit of black lace and the bunch up of her impressive bosom.

She smiled a coy smile aimed across the table.

You followed the smile and your eyes reached Baekhyun. He’d been hit with the smile and had been too stunned to return it. Instead, he lifted a hand and rubbed it over the back of his neck twice before reaching the same hand forward to grab the ice water he’d been sipping all night as he pulled in a mouthful and puffed his cheeks before covering his lips with his flattened palm and swallowing noisily.

“I also mentioned you to my friend,” Mia said not quietly enough for it to be just for him and you dropped your eyes down to the half finished chicken on your plate.

She was fine. Mia was fine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. She was nice and she was probably a good person, but you kind of wanted her to die.

“So,” Ben interjected suddenly and you looked across the table at him as you tried to conceal the surprise on your face to find him sitting there.

You noticed he was done with his food and his plate had already been cleared away by the super attentive waitstaff.

The negligence of your own date weighed heavily on you and you angled your chest forward to face him directly for whatever questions he had for you.

He was pointing toward Baekhyun and Mia with his extended finger and raised eyebrows.

“You two work in computers?” It was a work question. He’d gathered this much from the brief introductions everyone had given and while you had failed to offer any insight as to what you did for a living, Baekhyun and Mia had both mentioned computers.

“He’s a software engineer, and I’m a programmer. Similar but not the same,” Mia explained. You weren't sure of any of the details or of how they were different. You hadn’t really put much thought into it. You knew Baekhyun worked the magic with the keyboard and could fix anything that you happened to break.

“I’m in advertising. Just got scouted by Comma Entertainment and I’ve accepted.” Ben had a hand raised to his chest and his eyebrows were up. This seemed important to him and you let your lips form into an impressed O shape as you raised your eyebrows. His tone and the way he said the name of his new employer seemed to warrant the excited reaction.

You weren't familiar at all with his industry but you knew how to react like you knew what he was talking about. He certainly seemed impressed by himself. Who were you to discourage his enthusiasm.

“You’ve heard of it?” You sold it too well. Baekhyun had leaned close to you and whispered an aside question and you shot him a tense look with your eyes as a warning, but you quickly pushed your smile wide for Ben who was, deservedly, very excited about his new position.

“Of course, who doesn’t know Comma for advertising. That’s a very big deal. Is that why you were so busy last week? We hardly got to talk.”

Your subject change was so slick. If you hadn’t been the one to do it, you’d have been impressed by it. The disappointed pout on your face sold it well.

“Actually I was at the bank a lot last week. It was so weird. I had a few accounts that seemed to be hacked but then it turned out to be nothing. Had to change all my passwords though, so that was annoying.”

“That sucks. They didn't take anything did they?” Mia spoke up from beside Ben; concern written all over her face.

“No. Whoever did it just seemed to access purchase histories mostly. Some loser of a hacker. Didn't even get any money.” Ben’s lips pulled wide and he was laughing with his head thrown back at his perceived victory over the hacker that had been messing around in his bank records.

“You can learn a remarkable amount of information about a person’s bad habits from their bank history, Ben. Sure utilities and rent; that’s boring. You can find out how often someone gets hammered at bars. How many of those bars are also strip clubs. How many maxed out credit cards they make minimum payments on each month just to keep their head above water. Their gambling losses and the motel rooms they book in the bad part of town…”

Baekhyun was speaking up beside you. You turned and you looked at his profile as he spoke so candidly and with what you could only describe as a certain smugness on his voice.

The only reason he’d stopped talking was to catch his breath. It was the most he had spoken all night and you honestly felt taken aback by the suddenness of his words and more, the topic he spoke on. It felt weirdly pointed. It just felt so detailed; almost accusatory.

“What?” You hissed the question; focused it hard and as under your breath as possible to the man seated beside you.

His lips closed up before his eyes turned to look at you and you caught a quick blink of his eyes that preceded a softening of his features that had no business looking that confrontational in the first place.

“I’m not saying any of that stuff applies to Ben.” Baekhyun lifted a slim dismissive hand to wave toward your date. “It’s just an example. For all we know Ben’s only weakness is eating fried chicken every day.”

Ben’s lips were pulled into a thin line on his face and his jaw unclenched when you looked back at him. Then he was smiling at you and it was bright and convincing. You smiled back at him and shook your head at your wacky roommate’s antics.

“Actually it’s pizza. You caught me buddy, I’m a hardcore pizza addict. Every night.”

“Well, not tonight.” Baekhyun shrugged with an odd smile landing on his lips.

Ben’s tight smile flattened and the two men seemed to be staring at each other for longer than you thought was polite for a shared first double-date.

“So what is it that you do?” It was Mia who ultimately broke the tension and you looked across the table into her eyes. She had a pleasant smile on her face and was still chewing on a piece of bread, clearly unbothered by the strange standoff that had just been going on between the two men at this table.

Surely you weren't the only one to notice how odd it had been. Had you just imagined the tightness in Baekhyun’s fist that laid over his thigh and the hard glare in Ben’s eyes?

With Mia’s question though, you felt your own lips pull closed and your eyes danced around the table to the other curious parties who also were now looking at you to answer the question.

You’d prepared well for this date. You’d made sure Baekhyun had the detailed first date topics, questions and answers for perfect small talk, even the section on table etiquette. You’d made sure he knew you’d be here to steer the conversations toward topics he was comfortable discussing and you’d even set up a safety signal he would use if he wanted to bail and just go home.

You’d planned it all out, down to the detailed progression of the evening and how at the end someone might even suggest going together for drinks. And should one of the dates wish to split off, it would be completely okay as long as the corresponding person felt comfortable. You’d even promised that under no circumstances would you abandon Baekhyun to do this on his own if he didn't want to. Not even at the behest of Ben, your date.

They were looking at you and you'd gone quiet. You’d been so busy preparing for this date that it never occurred to you that you were also actively involved and that someone might possibly ask a question about you and your work.

Your work. Well…

“Uhh...I don't really do anything worth mentioning.”

You felt it. It was a warmth that had pooled in the skin around your nose. Your cheeks felt warm and you felt just insignificant enough for it to take your undeserved confidence and throw it out the window.

Ben and Mia were watching you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the dry chapped skin on the surface.

“Nothing?” Ben said and his eyes were wide with a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, not nothing.” You were not completely unemployed. You had been quite impressive before. You’d been working with the best publicists of an entertainment company and had been in charge of crafting and perfecting the asset sheets of many of your company's highest profile artists. You’d been the best at it and at one time had been highly sought out for your expertise. You had a way with it. You could work some real magic. You could make a dud of a raw potato sound like a five star course in a Michelin star restaurant. Losing your position in the spring of 2020 had really been a huge blow to your confidence. You looked back at how far you had fallen. Boring data entry jobs to make ends meet. Taking on weird side gigs so you could afford tiny luxuries like your favorite scented lotion or the name brand tampons instead of the store brand.

“I do have a job.” You added lamely. “It’s just not at all interesting.”

Ben dropped his eyes from yours and Mia shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a carrot ball expertly on the first try.

“Yeah but what is it?” Mia said as she chewed daintily. The heat in your cheeks spread and you let your eyes wander away from hers over the various dinner items that covered this table.

Beside you, Baekhyun’s movement caught your eye and you turned to see him place an elbow on the table in front of him and he leaned forward.

“She’s a dating coach. She’s really good at it, but much too modest when she talks about herself.”

Oh no. He wasn't about to spill the beans was he? This was definitely not something in the approved list of first date dinner topics. Wasn't this topic too incriminating? Wouldn't Mia put two and two together and figure out that you had been coaching Baekhyun all along? Also, wasn't this new profession of yours too brand new to start talking about so freely like this? What the hell was he doing?

“A dating coach? What’s that?”

Strangely, Mia didn't seem to be looking at Baekhyun with wheels turning and sirens blaring. She was looking at you with her mouth empty and hung open with a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“Do you like, feed them what to say in an earpiece?” Ben was speaking up from the other side of Mia and you laughed at the absurdity of such a silly rom-com movie cliche.

“Well no. I’m not a pickup artist. I am a dating coach. Think about it like a sports coach. I am teaching my clients the skills to play the game. Skills to overcome dating anxiety, or I’m teaching them to identity and move away from self-sabotaging behaviors, limiting beliefs, or preconceptions that are detrimental to a healthy relationship.

I have clients that don't even know where to begin. My goal is to strategize with them and place them effectively within the dating scene so they stand the best chance. It’s incredibly hard to be objective about your own love life, but I provide an outside viewpoint. I step in and intervene when I see something that isn't in line with their relationship goals or the vision they have for dating.

I’m not teaching manipulation or just telling them what to say. There are no love spells to make someone fall in love with you. I’m changing the way they believe in themselves so they can present themselves to someone else in the absolute best way to begin a real relationship with someone.”

You’d been leaning in as you spoke animatedly with your hands. You felt the genuine excitement building with your words. You were surprised at how much of your previous profession’s language applied to this new exciting endeavor you were embarking on, but there really were tons of overlapping similarities between the two fields. The explanations just poured out of you.

You hadn’t said any of this out loud before to anyone but the more you talked about it, the more elated you felt about what you were doing with your life. With how much you had been helping Baekhyun and how much progress you had seen in just one day of helping your clients — Baekhyun’s friends Minseok and Sehun. Sehun had finally, finally sent you his first selfie that wasn’t taken from his lap after you’d sent him many examples of good selfies taken from different angles. Minseok was already halfway through the materials you’d sent him to study and had been working hard on identifying and changing the self-defeating language he’d used in his rough draft dating profile.

“She has an app.” Baekhyun piped up from beside you. He’d leaned back in his chair as you spoke.

Both Ben and Mia’s faces mirrored each other’s. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung in amazement and you quickly closed up your own mouth and grabbed anxiously at your wine glass, feeling a little bit embarrassed about having talked so much. You couldn't resist the chance to smash their misconceptions about what your goals actually were with helping your clients. None of these people were unlovable. They were all worthy of finding someone and you were going to give it your all to help them see their own value.

“Not at all interesting?” Mia spoke up, “that’s super interesting. That’s really, really cool. Can—Can I have your contact info? I have a friend that would be interested in your services.”

“You have an app too? This is something we could advertise online. It would do extremely well on certain kinds of reddit forums and definitely in most online gaming communities.” Even Ben sounded excited, if not a bit overly judgmental, and you heard a quiet, but hostile scoff next to you.

You ticked your head toward the sound but did not turn to look at him. You knew that scoff well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice at whatever he thought Ben might be insinuating about online gamers and the connection to the incels that haunted the forums of reddit.

“I think it’s a bit premature to think about online advertising. I’m still only one person.”

Ben smiled and shrugged off your quick dismissal of his idea to partner up and advertise your business to the desperately lonely and pathetic gamers of the world. Hell, the more you thought about it, the less inappropriate Baekhyun’s annoyance was. Ben could use some coaching on choosing less insulting words.

Thankfully the dinner was over and the check had been taken care of. You looked away from the palpable awkwardness that slapped you across the face when Baekhyun waved away Ben’s card and paid for the entire bill with his own.

“You can get me next time, buddy.” He definitely said this word sarcastically. It was out of line and you simply could not find the right moment to pinch his leg under the table to get him to behave himself in a discrete enough way that would not get you caught by the other two people at this table.

You let it slide simply because you had no way to stop it. He was ignoring the way you waved your finger frantically at him down by your calf. You knew he could see you in his peripherals.

No, Baekhyun. Stop that. Be nice. Your hand was saying. He wouldn't even look at it.

The dinner was over and the movie was starting soon. You’d picked a restaurant that was close enough to the theatre that you could walk.

You paired off. It was far from natural. You actually caught Baekhyun’s eyes as you stepped quickly and walked ahead of him, falling into step beside Ben and you left behind Baekhyun and Mia to bring up the rear. It took every ounce of self control not to turn around and look behind you to see how closely they walked to each other. To see if Baekhyun kept his hands shoved securely in his pockets or if he swung his arms at his side as he walked, inching a hand closer and closer to Mia’s swinging hand in the hopes of a back of the hand brush of his warm skin against hers.

Your steps must have stalled. You’d reached the theatre and you looked up to locate Ben, only to find him at the box office purchasing four tickets for the movie you’d all agreed to watch days ago. For the life of you, you couldn't remember what you were seeing. You merely followed where you were led and found yourself seated in a center row of a movie house sandwiched between Ben and Baekhyun. You noticed the center armrests had been lifted when you arrived and simply did not bother to lower them since everyone was too full from dinner for any movie snacks or drinks.

The house was mostly empty and then lights dimmed as the movie began. You searched your brain and nearly pulled out your phone to check your chat logs for the name of the film but decided against shining a tiny bright light in a dark room.

The movie began and you were quickly drawn into the narrative. It was a dark film and as the soundtrack began to take on more sinister sounding tones you recognized that your heart was racing and you were feeling the tension all over your body. It was not a gorey horror film, but it was leaning more toward the psychological suspense thriller genre. Not really something you watched much of.

To your left, Ben sat completely still; focused only on the movie screen. He looked so calm and nearly unaffected by the terrifying things happening on the screen. He occasionally shifted in his seat but did not react to the jump scare that flashed before your eyes and made you flinch hard in your seat. You’d reached the point in the film when the main characters were in genuine danger and you began to wonder if anyone would make it out of this movie alive. Was this one of those films where everyone was doomed?

It happened again, another jump, another loud shocking sound and another noise startled you and you dove to your right, hiding your face in the warm shoulder of the man sitting beside you.

The realization was instantaneous. The second you felt the warmth of his arm, and the smell of him hit your nose, you pulled your head up and you straightened out your spine, mumbling a quiet apology to Baekhyun for using his arm to hide behind as you removed any and all contact points you had with his body. You angled your hips and your knees away from him and even went so far as to stick your hands well under your own thighs and keep them there so you didn't grab for him again. You had been doing so well by not touching him at all today. Why did it have to be a scary movie?

Things grew more frantic on the screen. You held your breath and tried your best to keep from reacting as much as you could. How long was this movie? How much longer did you have to endure this? You should have paid more attention to the details of this part of the date. This was your own fault. You were acting like a big baby because you couldn't handle a little frightening scenes in a movie.

It was coming again. You could feel it building. You closed your eyes and terrible sounds were erupting all over. You would just not look. You could make it through if you just didn't look. With your eyes closed the sounds felt louder than ever and when you thought you couldn't take it anymore you considered committing the enormous sin of getting up during the climax of the movie to use the bathroom just so you didn't have to sit through this anymore.

There was a shift beside you then. You felt warm fingers inching down your forearm, traveling the path your hand took that led below your thigh and someone was reaching for your hand and pulling it out from where you’d been sitting on it. Someone to your right was gripping your hand with his own warm hand and you opened your eyes to look down between the hidden space between your hip and Baekhyun’s hip. There, you saw the grip of his hand that wrapped securely around yours.

He squeezed down once and you followed the length of him up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He was looking up at the screen. His eyes were open and he did not flinch at all. He was so still aside from the occasional movement of his lips when he moistened them with his tongue.

You could handle this if he lent you a little bit of his strength like this. Your eyes returned to the screen but your mind wandered back down to the secure comfort you felt in his hand.

You felt your own secret throb.

It made you flinch just a little bit and Baekhyun’s hand shifted then. He moved, lifting the tight grip for a moment and you wondered if he was done, would he take his hand back and leave you cold and afraid again? The lift was for the shift of his fingers and you felt the push of each digit between yours. He pushed his fingers between yours; interlocking your hands together with his and his thumb moved lightly over your own thumb, brushing comforting strokes again and again through the loud and scary and shocking scenes that played over that screen.

This time the racing you felt in your chest had nothing to do with the scary movie. He was touching you. He was holding your hand in secret. It felt forbidden with his date sitting right beside him like she was and with your date seated right beside you like he was. All of your attention was down on the slow pressure you felt from his thumb as it traced the shape of your own thumb down from the very bottom up to the tip, around again. The simple up and down had a slow and sensual rhythm to it. When he lifted his hand his thumb moved and you held your breath to feel that same very slow touching trace the outline of the palm of your hand again and again. He drew absentminded shapes into your skin with the pointed tip of his thumb and your eyes drifted closed as the longing grew within you. He followed the paths of the creases in your skin like a palm reader. He did not even need light to see them, he simply felt them and traced along the paths.

You let him.

You felt bewitched.

You loved him.

The credits rolled on the screen and the lights switched on. The change was abrupt. You were taken by surprise and shocked by it like you were from the jump scares in the film.

His warmth left you. His wandering light touch, his deliberate and careful exploration of the lines that made up the palm of your hand vanished.

Everyone was standing and everyone was walking out of the theatre house and your mind felt clouded and dazed but you followed where their steps led and you found yourself standing outside of the exit doors with the three other people who you entered with.

Baekhyun stood beside Mia and Ben occupied the space of the sidewalk square that you also stood inside.

It was the end of a night. You felt an overwhelming urge for this evening to be done so you could go home and shower and maybe eat something sweet and distracting and maybe made out of chocolate.

“Well this was fun,” it was your own voice that ultimately called it.

Mia had been looking at Baekhyun who had been looking down at his own feet as he lightly tapped his foot on the concrete below. Three taps.

Tap, tap, tap.

You felt a jolt of realization. Baekhyun had just tapped his foot thrice on the floor below him well within your sight and you recognized what that meant. He was feeling done. He was done with all of this exhausting socializing and being out in public with so many people around and he wanted to go home now. This was him asking you for help now as he wasn't sure how to end the date but wanted it to be over.

“What about...grabbing some drinks, maybe...” Mia was talking only to Baekhyun as she looked at him, “if you aren't too tired.”

“Hey Baek, isn’t your grandmother coming over early tomorrow? Do you still have to get ready for that?” You interjected suddenly and Baekhyun looked up into your face with his mouth open and you watched his eyes move slowly over your face as he recognized what you were doing. You were giving him an out. Mia had asked him to go for drinks and you were giving him an excuse, should he need it.

You both knew his grandma came every other Sunday. You both vividly remembered the wonderful visit you had at the beginning of the week with her and she wasn’t due to arrive again until next Sunday.

He could simply correct you if he really did want to go with her. He could call you a dummy and tell you that you had the wrong week again and playfully tap you on the head to jog your brain back into functioning the right way as he often did when you got something mixed up.

“Oh, yeah she is,” Baekhyun grabbed your convenient reminder from the air and smiled a rueful smile directed at Mia. His smile widened with the wince on his face, “that’s too bad.” He added and Mia took it well.

She smiled and nodded her head and there were well wishes for a safe trip home all around as you all parted ways.

Ben said he would text you later. Baekhyun told Mia the same and you waited until they both walked away to follow Baekhyun back to his car for the quiet ride home.

The silence was heavy, but it was comfortable.

Baekhyun didn't speak at all and you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tired. He wasn’t normally an extroverted person and found it very draining to carry on a full conversation with friends he knew well. Strangers like he had been with tonight, well, you could see the fatigue in his movements and you knew he needed something warm to drink and maybe some comfort with a familiar favorite tv show to zone out in front of.

You handled it better. You were used to having to go out of your home occasionally and you even enjoyed socializing with your coworkers on the few days you went in to the office for work. You felt a bit drained but mostly you were preoccupied with watching how he was handling it and you were also burning with curiosity to know how Baekhyun felt about the whole thing.

He’d wandered into the living room and he found the sofa. You followed him close behind and grabbed the remote, flipping to a familiar and funny cartoon that you often saw him playing in the background as he worked on things. He didn't usually watch it that closely but it was comforting enough to stay on and keep his mind occupied for a while.

You didn't speak. Everything you had to ask him could wait. Even the scolding you had for him about how he acted toward Ben could also wait. You’d let the man breathe a little first.

You busied yourself in the kitchen making two cups of hot tea and when you returned you found his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes still glued to the screen. He had a passive smile on his face and he reacted positively to the wacky scenarios the characters found themselves in. He would occasionally speak out loud, speaking along with a funny line he knew by heart and you found it impossible to resist saying the follow up joke. You knew this show as well as he did.

He accepted the tea with a smile and had a few sips and you set your mug on the coffee table in favorable of the comfortable side of the sofa, the side with the pillows that allowed you to rest your head comfortably as you watched the big tv.

You were feeling pretty good. Baekhyun had now officially gone on his first date with a real girl who wasn’t you and he’d had a nice time. You could see from where you laid your head down how relaxed his face was as he giggled at the show.

You stretched and you felt his warm thigh with your foot. This sofa was long enough for you to stretch out completely and you only barely reached where he sat at the other side. You wiggled your toes, unable to resist the light messing with him that you often gave in to and his hand reached down to grab ahold of your foot, which he held in place as he paid attention to the tv.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you sat up a little bit to pull it out.

You saw a text message from Ben.

From the preview you got the idea of what kind of text message the man would be sending you an hour after your first, and apparently your last date with him.

-Hey you seem like a super cool girl, but...

The preview showed you enough to know that he was dumping you before you’d even gotten anything started with him.

You opened the text. Your curiosity outweighed your sense of self preservation.

-...but whatever’s going on between you and your roommate, well it doesn’t really seem like there’s much room for me. I just don't think I can start something knowing I’ve already lost. Thanks for inviting me tonight. The movie was fun. Good luck with everything. - Ben

You felt the sting.

You couldn't help it. You’d spent all evening watching Baekhyun interact with Mia with every ounce of your self control devoted to not letting your jealousy show at all. At one point you’d been so damn engrossed in them that you forgot Ben was even there. What an unfair and shitty situation to have put him in. You quickly keyed out an apology for your crappy date etiquette and thanked him for going out with you tonight.

You couldn't even blame him for anything. He had been sweet and he had tried his best to be the perfect gentleman. What had you expected?

You sent the last message you would ever send to Ben and tossed your phone roughly toward the coffee table. It bounced but landed in the middle.

The racket called Baekhyun’s attention and he turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Ben just rejected me.”

Somehow saying this out loud to Baekhyun felt better than hiding it from him. It felt less miserable than keeping it inside of yourself and letting yourself suffer the sting of the rejection alone.

Baekhyun’s lips pulled into a small frown and he took out his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it roughly on the coffee table beside yours. It took a similar bounce and your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.

“No way, not Mia too,” you said in genuine fear and Baekhyun shook his head with his shrug still well in place.

“Nah, I just can't lay down with my phone in my pocket,” he said as he wiggled on the sofa trying to get comfortable, “though in hindsight I can see how you would think that, sorry. Mia hasn’t texted yet.”

He was wiggling, finding no comfort in all the positions he tried and you caught his wandering eyes for a second as you lightly tapped a hand over your belly.

This…

This would be fine. This was something you both did sometimes. Baekhyun said your belly was warm and comfy and made the best noises and he liked to use you as a pillow when he was just too tired to go to his own bed.

He moved right away at your invitation and you let your legs part around his chest as he laid his head down right on top of you. He turned his head to face the tv and didn't even squirm too much before he sighed out loud. His arms laid on either side of your waist and you felt the constriction as he lightly squeezed around you.

You really hadn’t gotten to touch him all day. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you felt a low moan from the back of his throat travel though your body as you raked your nails down the back of his head to his nape.

“Peanut,” you said softly, feeling every little bit of the annoying little tickle of that stupid secret sitting inside of you.

You could feel the heaviness of his body as he gave in and relaxed his muscles on you. You felt every breath he took and they seemed to be changing as you played with his hair and he gave in to the relaxing comfort you offered him.

“Hmm?” He replied after a long while. You angled your face and could see that his eyes were closed.

“How was the date? Was it nice?”

You had so many hopes for him. You were trying your best to ignore the pangs of your own selfish jealousy and get past it all to get to something good for him. Something that would make him understand how incredible he was. How beautiful he was inside and out and how precious of a human being he was.

“Mhmm, I liked it.” He said softly and he shifted and you felt him tighten his hold around your waist briefly before he relaxed again.

“Did you really? Do you think you liked Mia?” You kept your voice strong. You did not allow your fears to overcome your voice. You were okay with this if he was okay.

He did not answer right away. You’d stopped playing with his hair and you kept your hand rested over his head. He was so warm. He was so lovely.

“Do you want me to like Mia?”

No.

Mia would be so good to him.

You did not answer. Your answer would have been no. It would have been selfish. You’d just been dumped by your date, how dare his date have gone so well. You’d both been on the same date. You could still see the way she looked at him. She found him just as lovely as you did.

You felt a thickness at the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.

“I’m trying, Bug. She’s very nice to talk to. Do you think I should like her?”

Was this because of his mistrust of people? Was this his shyness about letting someone he didn't know very well in close?

You couldn't respond. You did not trust yourself to do the right thing.

“You should go rest if you’re sleepy,” you said, you know, like a coward.

It took him a few minutes of laying on top of you before he realized that you were right and he would be much more comfortable in his own bed. He nodded and pushed up with his arms, and his eyes stayed closed and his head stayed hung down as his feet shuffled and he made his way into his bedroom, leaving his door open you merely heard the loud sound of him plopping down on his bed.

You were stuck where he left you.

Stuck in about as crappy a mood as you’d ever found yourself.

You hated everything about this. You hated how much you loved him and you hated how receptive he was to the idea of dating Mia. You hated how she looked at him and giggled at his small jokes and you hated HATED the way his cheeks blushed and the shy smiles he gave her when she talked to him.

You laid there and you stewed in your mood for longer than was good for you and the only thing that made your it up was the simultaneous buzzing that brought both of your cell phones to life on the coffee table.

You reached for yours. It’s as your dating coach app. Baekhyun had received a new message from Mia. The feelings that surged through you were taking over your sense of what was good and what was right and what was proper behavior for someone like you to participate in.

You swiped to read the message.

-Hi Baekhyun. Sorry I couldn't wait until tomorrow to text you. I had an amazing time tonight and I was wondering if you would like to meet up tomorrow after your Grandmother’s visit for coffee? I have something I’d like to ask you.

You felt as if your body was on fire.

You could feel it deep inside your chest, deeper still inside your belly where his head had been resting moments before. You felt it in the palm of your hand where his thumb had traced the patterns of lines there. You felt it in your lips that he had kissed and in your tongue ached inside of your mouth from your stupid secret.

You reached for your phone. You opened the app for the power he’d given only to you and you responded to her message as if you were Baekhyun.

-Hi, Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll meet you at 1pm.

Your hands moved on their own. You moved to the internal commands of your app and you deleted both of the messages from the chat history. When you picked up his phone you saw the notification for Mia’s message vanish before your eyes and when you unlocked it and accessed his chat log, there was no sign of the unimaginable and unforgivable sin you had just committed against him.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

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[trini-trin-trin]

Sharing this from a FB group that I am in. I was very moved by the article and felt affinity with the experiences shared. A really sweet read.

Here is the article if you don't want to click on the link (I know it is a little long, but well worth your time to read!):

The letter I received ten years ago was unsigned and bore no return address. Clearly its author did not expect, much less want, a reply. A message in a bottle, from no one to no one, that letter still remains the most bizarre form of communication. It asks nothing but to be read, promises nothing but to share a few facts and feelings, and, seeing that it must have been dashed off on a lined yellow sheet that seemed hastily torn out of a pad of paper, the author would not be surprised if, after skimming through it, the recipient decided to crumple and lob it into the closest dust bin.

The letter is one page long. One page is enough. The handwriting is uneven, perhaps because the author had lost the habit of writing in longhand and preferred the keyboard. But his grammar is perfect. The man knew what he was doing. I assume he was writing the note by hand because he didn’t want traces of it on his laptop, or because he knew he was never going to send it as an email and risk a reply. Now that I think of it, he probably didn’t care if it even reached its recipient, a local Bay Area reporter who had mentioned my novel about two young men who fall in love one summer in Italy in the mid-1980s. The reporter eventually forwarded it to me, minus its envelope with the postmark. It took no time to see that all the author of the letter was looking for was a chance to blurt out the words he couldn’t dare breathe elsewhere.

My book had spoken to him. His letter spoke to me.

So here it is: dated April 16, 2008.

I came upon Mr. Aciman’s book while on a business trip back East. Not the type of book I am normally able to read, so I bought a copy for the flight home. I think I’m glad I did.

You see, I was Elio. I was 18 and my Oliver was 22. Though the time and place were different, the feelings were remarkably the same. From believing that you are the only person who has these feelings, to the whole “he loves me – he loves me not” scenario, Mr. Aciman got it right. I was particularly impressed with the attention he gave to the morning after Elio’s and Oliver’s first encounter. The guilt, the loathing, the fear. I felt it too much. I had to put the book down for a while.

But in the end I was able to finish the book before we landed at SFO. Which was good, because I couldn’t take the book home. Unlike Elio it was I who married and had children. My Oliver died from AIDS in 1995. I’m still living a parallel life. My name is not important. His name was Dwight.

Instead, I kept the letter. I kept it for ten years.

What moved me was not just its sobering matter-of-factness or its hint of downplayed sorrow, but the associations it provoked in my mind. It reminded me of those short, clipped messages to loved ones, written by people about to be shipped off to the death camps who knew they’d never be heard from again. There is a chilling immediacy about their hurriedly scribbled notes that say everything there is to say in the fewest possible words — there wasn’t enough time for more, no smarmy pieties, no hand-wringing, no treacly hugs and kisses before the tragic end. It also made me think of the moving phone messages left by those who finally realized they were not going to make it out alive from the Twin Towers and that only their family’s answering machine was going to take their call.

“My name is not important,” he writes, almost as an apology for remaining anonymous; yet the author drops quite a number of hints about himself — hints he likely knows will stir his reader’s wistful curiosity to know what made him write the letter in the first place, what he hoped to accomplish, and if writing did indeed help. The letter itself allows us to see that he travels for business. We also sense that he probably lives in the Bay Area and that he travels not infrequently to the East Coast, since, as he writes, he is “back” in the East. And we know one thing more: that he simply needed to come out and tell someone that a man called Dwight had been his lover when the two were young. The rest is a cloud. We’ll never know more. Writing has served its purpose. We write, it seems, to reach out to others. Whether we know them or not doesn’t matter. We write to put out into the real world something extremely private within us, to make real what often feels unreal and ever so elusive about ourselves. We write to give a shape to what would otherwise remain amorphous. This is as true about authors as about those who want to correspond with them. Over the years, many have written to me either after reading or seeing Call Me by Your Name. Some tried to meet me; others confided things they’d never told anyone; and some even managed to call me at the office and, on speaking about my novel, would eventually apologize before bursting out crying. Some were in jail; some were barely adolescents, others old enough to look back at loves seven decades past; and some were priests locked in silence and secrecy. Many were closeted, others totally out; some were widows who felt a resurgence of hope if only by reading about the loves of two young men called Elio and Oliver in Italy; some were very young girls eager to meet their long-awaited Oliver; and some recalled former gay lovers whom they’d occasionally bump into years later but who’d never acknowledge what they’d once shared and done together when both were schoolmates and neither was married. All were keenly aware of living a parallel life. In that parallel life things are as they perhaps should be. Elio and Oliver still live together. And no one has secrets there.

Unlike Dwight’s lover, everyone who took the time to write to me did not withhold their names, but all had, at one point or another, withheld something very primal. They withheld it from themselves, from a relative, from a friend, a classmate, or colleague, or from a beloved who would never have guessed what troubled longings seethed below their averted gaze whenever they crossed paths.

Some readers wrote to tell me they felt that my novel had changed them, and given them new insights into themselves; some felt it was urging them finally to turn a new leaf in their lives. But some couldn’t go so far and, despite their perfect command of language, confessed lacking the words to explain why they were so moved by my novel or why they felt an unresolved longing for things they’d never considered or desired before. They were experiencing an upwell of emotions and of ungraspable might-have-beens that were asking to be reckoned with because they seemed more real than life itself, a sense of themselves that beckoned from an opposite bank they’d never known was there and whose potential loss now was a source of inconsolable grief. Hence their tears, their regrets, and the overpowering sense of being lost in their own lives.

And yet, they said, theirs were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of recognition, as though the novel itself were a mirror for readers to watch their own emotions laid bare before them. These responses made me aware that Call Me by Your Name does not call attention to anything readers didn’t already know, nor does it bring new truths or revelations; all it does is shed new light on things that were long familiar but that they never took the time to consider. It would be so tempting to say that they are reminded of their forgotten first loves; the truth is that all loves, even those that occur late in life, are first loves. There is always fear, shame, reluctance, and not a tiny dose of spite. Desire is agony.

Everyone who’s read Call Me by Your Name understands not only the struggle both to speak and hold back their truth but also the shame that comes whenever we want something from someone. Desire is always cagey, always secretive — we’ll tell everyone we know about the person we crave to hold naked in our arms, but the very last one to know this will be the person we crave. Same-sex desire is even more guarded and watchful, especially in those who are just discovering their sexuality. Awkwardness and desire are strange bedfellows at a young age, but shame and inexperience are just as paralyzing as fear when we watch them tussling with the urge to be bold. You’re torn between the raw horniness that makes you dream scenes you hope to forget as soon as you’re up and the scenes you pray you’ll dream again and again — if dreams are all you’ll have. Silence and solitude exact a cost that leaves us emotionally wrecked. At some point we need to speak.

So “is it better to speak or die?” asks Elio, the narrator of Call Me by Your Name, quoting words penned by the sixteenth-century Marguerite de Navarre in her collection of tales known as The Heptameron. Marguerite was the sister of King Francis I and the grandmother of Henry IV, himself the grandfather of Louis XIV, hence she was plenty familiar with court intrigue, gossip, and the risks of opening up to someone who may not welcome what’s in our heart and could easily make us pay for it. Not everyone who has written to me has dared to speak their hearts to those they loved. Some have sought silence — slow, lingering droplets of quiet desperation taken every night before bedtime until they realize they’ve been dead and didn’t even know it. Many have written to me with the feeling of having missed their chance when someone tethered his rowboat to their jetty and simply asked them to jump in. “Some sentence or thought on almost every page,” writes a reader, “triggers tears and knots my throat and chest. Tears well up in my eyes on the subway, at my computer at work, walking down the street. Perhaps I am weeping in part because I know that at my age there is virtually no possibility of experiencing anything remotely comparable to what Elio experiences with Oliver.” Someone else writes, “Reading Call Me by Your Name made me feel a love I never had.” A happily married 50-plus colleague took me aside and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this much in love in my whole life.” “I'm 23,” tweeted someone else, “and have never felt such love, until I read Call Me by Your Name. I feel like I lived it.” “Elio and I are essentially the same age,” writes a teenage girl. “I have never really experienced his environment of the Italian summer…My experiences have only taken place halfway between nature and smog, however I have felt the same tension, fear, guilt and overwhelming love that you express perfectly through both Elio and Oliver…Finding myself in Elio was something I never expected and I’m positive that I won’t experience anything quite like it ever again. The first girl I ever loved remains…the only girl I have ever loved and though everything she and I shared…lives now as a secret between two friends.” “I finished reading Call Me by Your Name a couple of days ago,” writes someone else, “and wanted to let you know how much it affected me. It felt like a narration of my thoughts that I had systematically buried long ago.” And finally this from a 72-year-old: “I was fascinated by the idea of parallel lives where would I have been if I had gone with him, where would I be if I traveled alone? Maybe the point is just what do I do with the gift you have given me during the remainder of my life.”

There are at least 500 more such letters and emails.

Some find themselves weeping at the end of the film or the novel, not for what happened long ago or for what did not and might never happen in their own lives but for what has yet to happen, for the terrifying moment when they too will soon have to decide whether to speak or die. This from an 18-year-old: “[Your novel] gives me hope that one day I will meet someone whom I desire so badly that I’ll actually find it in me to make a move, the way Oliver is that someone for Elio. Maybe my Oliver will also turn out to be someone that I realize I love as well as desire.” She was crying for a week, as was this 15-year-old young man: “I stopped reading…because I didn’t want [the book] to end, didn’t want the wounds that you caused me to close, I didn’t want to overcome, for some reason that I have yet to find out. I wanted to stay a wreck, emotionally and mentally fragile….My mother handed me tissues because she had never seen me cry like this. I had finished your book and ‘moved’ is too weak a word to express what your book had done to me. Here a week later and it is literally all I can think about, not my midterms coming up, but…Elio and Oliver and if it is better to speak or die. You answered questions I didn’t even think I had.”

Indeed, the whole novel seems to enable the outing of all manner of feelings, feelings from Elio’s relentless inward journey and obsessive self-examination that readers are invited to identify with. Through Elio’s unfettered introspection they too feel exposed and sliced open like a crustacean without a slough, now forced to look at itself in the mirror. No wonder they are moved. The mask that is torn off their faces is not just the mask that conceals same-sex desires from themselves and from others. Rather, it is the realization, through Elio’s voice, of what they truly feel, who they truly are, what they fear, what bears their signature, and what coy little shenanigans they go through to read others and hope to reach them. Some identified with some effusive sentences in my novel so much that they had them tattooed on their bodies. They even attach photos of these tattoos. People have also tattooed peaches on themselves!

But what moves most people — and this is as true now as it was when the novel first came out — is the father’s speech. Here he not only tells his son to nurse the flame and “don’t snuff it out” after his son’s lover has left Italy, but that he too, the father, envies his son’s relationship with a male lover. This speech tears away the last vestige of a veil between reader and truth and is a moving tribute to the irreducible honesty between father and son.

Most readers have written to me about the scene because the father’s speech rekindles the very difficult moment when they decided to come out to their parents — or, as is often the case with people 60, or 70 or older, it reminds them of the conversation they wished they’d had but never did have with their parents. This is the loss no one forgets and from which no one recovers after seeing Call Me by Your Name. It bears the very essence of that precious and life-defining might-have-been moment that never happened and never will.

Here is the speech:

“Look…[y]ou had a beautiful friendship. Maybe more than a friendship. And I envy you. In my place, most parents would hope the whole thing goes away, or pray that their sons land on their feet soon enough. But I am not such a parent. In your place, if there is pain, nurse it, and if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out, don’t be brutal with it. Withdrawal can be a terrible thing when it keeps us awake at night, and watching others forget us sooner than we’d want to be forgotten is no better. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything — what a waste!...

“… {L]et me say one more thing. It will clear the air. I may have come close, but I never had what you had. Something always held me back or stood in the way. How you live your life is your business. But remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. Most of us can’t help but live as though we’ve got two lives to live, one is the mockup, the other the finished version, and then all those versions in between. But there’s only one, and before you know it, your heart is worn out, and, as for your body, there comes a point when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Right now there’s sorrow. I don’t envy the pain. But I envy you the pain.”

I received the anonymous letter sometime in early May 2008. At the time, I was staying at my parents’, because my father was suffering from throat and mouth cancer and was already in hospice care. He had refused radiation and chemotherapy, so I knew his days were numbered; though morphine was clouding his mind, he was still lucid enough to bandy a few quips about a host of subjects. He had stopped eating and drinking water because swallowing had become very painful. One afternoon while I was stealing a nap, the phone rang. A reporter I’d met in California had just received a letter, which she wanted to share with me. I told her to read it over the phone. After she’d read it I asked if she felt she could mail it to me. I wanted to show it to my father, I said, and explained he was dying. She felt for me. We talked about my father for a while. I told her I was trying to make it up to him these days, and that he too had been exceptionally easy to be with. How was it growing up with him? she asked. Tense, I replied. Always is, she added. Then the conversation ended, and she promised to mail the letter soon.

After hanging up, I got out of bed and went in to see him. Over the past few days, I had made a point of reading to him, which he liked a great deal, especially now that he was having difficulty focusing. But rather than read to him the memoirs of Chateaubriand, one of his favorite authors, and feeling buoyed by the letter I’d been read on the phone, I asked if he’d like me to read from the French translation of Call Me by Your Name, the galleys of which I had just received from Paris that very morning. Why not, since you wrote it, he said. He was proud of me. So I began to read from the very beginning, and soon enough I knew I was opening up a subject neither he nor I had ever broached before. But I knew he knew what I was reading and why I was reading it to him. This made me happy. Perhaps it made him happy as well. I’ll never know.

That evening, after the rest of us had dinner, he asked if I could continue reading from my novel. I was nervous about arriving at the father’s speech because I didn’t know how he’d react to it, though he was the kind of father who would have given that very same speech himself. But the speech was two hundred pages away still, and that would have taken many, many days. Perhaps I should skip some parts, I thought. But no, I wanted to read him the whole book. My father didn’t last long enough to hear the father’s speech. And when the letter finally arrived from California, he was already gone. His name was Henri, he was 93 years old, and he inspired everything I’ve written.

#andre aciman #CMBYK Book #call me by your name #cmbyn #elio x oliver

[airplanned]

All the Trashy Novels Part 22

Part 1...Part 21

***

Nine out of every ten people at the castle were overly-proud and overly-pleased that Link had a townie girlfriend.  "He's so happy lately.  I didn't know he could smile."  "That boy deserves it with all the work he puts in."  "Sure hope she's good to him."

He did look happy lately.  It was unnerving.  His stony face had softened and there was a light to his eyes and an easiness to his step.  Instead of looking as if he wished to completely remove himself from interacting with everyone, he now looked like he was having a quiet, good time over there by himself.

It made no sense.  He didn't really have a girlfriend.  He was taking his lie much too far.

The other one out of ten people were furious that he wasn't dating them.  Jealousy was strong with some of the court ladies.  And weirdly some of the Sheikah techs.  And a disproportionate number of cooks in the kitchen.

There was no in-between: everyone was either thrilled or bitter.  No one was ambivalent.  

Zelda was the only person who was not happy for him and not blindingly jealous.  She was annoyed, but not because she was jealous.

Unfortunately, their agreement to temper their loathing of one another in public meant that she couldn't round on him and tell him how ridiculous he looked smiling vaguely into space.  She suspected that he only did it to annoy her.

"Where's the book I had?" she asked, looking up from her table in the library and shifting everything about to find it. (A month ago, she wouldn't have asked him.)

"Which one?"  (A month ago, he wouldn't have answered.  He just would have let her talk to herself.)

"Novel Methods in Guardian Programing?"

He shifted her other books about as well, holding it out to her when he found it under a pile of sketches.

"Thank you."

He smiled at her.

She gave him a distracted smile back, then remembered herself and frowned at him.  They weren't pretending to be friends.  They were pretending to not hate each other.

His smile turned soft, and she rolled her eyes and opened her book.

Everyone in the castle was talking about how they were getting along so much better.  Because Link had a girlfriend.  Which put him in a good mood.  Not because Zelda was working on being nice.

It was beyond frustrating.

When she went to bed that night, she pressed a pillow over her face and screamed.

She was distracted by a tapping at her window.  She stilled, certain it was a bird or a tree branch or her imagination.  But then it came again, and she remembered that there was no tree outside her room.  There was also no ledge, so it couldn't possibly be a person.  She sat up and crossed to the window, startling at the silhouette of a figure clinging to the wall.  She nearly screamed when he flicked back his hood.

She opened the window and hissed, "What on earth are you doing there?"

Link's eyes darted past her to her door, where the night guard was stationed, listening for any sound of distress. (Not screaming into pillow distress.  That was commonplace.) Then he flicked his hood back over his head and adjusted his grip on her window sill.  She leaned out and couldn't tell what he was using for footholds.

"I need your help," he whispered.

"Now?"

He nodded.

She frowned at him.

"I'll meet you in my study," she whispered.  Then she closed her window.

She tied the belt of her robe tighter and patted at her hair.  If Link needed help, it must be important.  If he needed help from her, it must be dire.

She walked outside and across the bridge to her study tower.  Should anyone see her, they wouldn't think it strange.  Well...not unusual.  They, of course, thought her strange.  As soon as she shut the door, Link dropped from the ceiling.

"What is it?"  She hurried to light a lantern.  What could she possibly help him with?  He must need her to cover for him while he ran off to do something outside the castle, or need her help with a guardian part gone awry.

"It's about my fake townie girlfriend."

She gave him a blank look.  "You snuck to my window and woke me up and acted horribly inappropriately because of your fake townie girlfriend?!  I thought you were in trouble."

"I am in trouble."

She narrowed her eyes at him.  

"Some of the guards are starting to doubt me."

"They doubt the veracity of your completely fictional story?  Imagine that."

"If they find out I don't have a townie girlfriend, what are they going to think?"

"I don't know.  And I don't care.  And I don't know what any of this has to do with me."

"I was hoping you could--"  He gestured at his neck.

She stared at him.  Then she exploded.  "You want me to give you another hickey?!"

"Yes?"

"No!"

"Please?"

She huffed.  The mark she'd left days ago was starting to fade.

"Fine," she snapped.  "Take off your shirt."

He startled.  "What?"

In exasperation she explained, "Your fake townie girlfriend left an obvious mark last time.  She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.  Take off your shirt."

He unclasped his cloak.  "I thought the point was to be obvious."

She rolled her eyes.  "You go shirtless enough that this will hardly count as hidden.  And if you want my help, you can trust that I know what I'm doing."

He frowned, unbuckling his baldric.  "You know what you're doing?"

"I will throw you from this tower."

He nodded, setting the Master Sword on her desk.  Then he pulled his Champions tunic and its undershirt over his head.

Suddenly, there was a lot of boy in her office.  She tried to consider it a logistical challenge and tuck her emotions aside.

"Alright," she said.  "I'm going to bite you."

"Shocking."

"Get out."

"Sorry.  Sorry.  Okay."

"Okay."

She nodded to herself, then stepped forward.  Even without touching him, she could feel the warmth radiating off him.  He held very still, which made it easier to stay calm as she lowered her mouth to the fleshy part of his shoulder.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let herself imagine it.  She would be on her back, with him on top of her, his skin as warm as it was now.  She pressed against him so she wouldn't have to imagine it.   He sucked in a breath, and she used that--the feel of him moving against her, the sharp sound of his breath--to fuel her fantasy.  Her fingers dug into his sides, dragging up, over tensing muscles, until she could cling to his shoulders.  

And that's what she would be doing: clinging.  Holding onto him for dear life as he pounded away, as her control unraveled in raw, aching strips, as she lost herself to bliss.  His hips twitched, and she whimpered, and she muffled the sound by sinking her teeth into his shoulder, clinging, clinging, her nails scrambling at his skin, scratching into his shoulder-blade, digging into the small of his back to pull him closer, deeper.

He made a noise halfway between a hiss and a grunt, and his hands came to rest tentatively on her back, wanting to cling to her as well, but uncertain if that was alright.  

Because this was a ruse.

She soothed the scratches with her hands and released him from her teeth.  She couldn't help pressing the flat of her tongue to the mark, couldn't help pressing her lips gently to his flesh.  Then she pulled away and wiped her mouth with her wrist.

She surveyed her work.  The bite was a red and angry circle of dents.  The very edge would peek from his collar.  Just a hint.

She swallowed hard so her voice would sound normal when she said.  "There.  That should do it."

If she looked him in the eye, she'd have to see the look he was giving her.  She knew the heat that would be there.  She could feel it in his skin.  If she looked, she'd do something foolish.  Something very foolish.

"See yourself out," she said, and left.

***

Part 23

#Zelda #my fic #All the Trashy Novels

[hajimeiwaswife]

THE WAY I LOVED YOU

Word count: 4,2K

Wanings: angst (but fluff, too)

Summary: You weren't over the love Childe provided you, even when you were engaged to Albedo years later.

A blue, pink and mauve sky garnished the surroundings of the Stormbearer Mountains. The summery breeze, warm as the light of the bright sun, comforted those who walked along the path of fallen leaves, wild flowers and the smell of mint. A beautiful landscape presented itself for sore eyes to see.

A certain Alchemist was working on his new masterpiece, relaxing under the few rays of light that came with dusk, painting the one he considered the most beautiful person to ever put a foot on Teyvat. Mixing the colours of nature, he portraited on the sketch book the view he had of his fiancée and the scenery, all of it worthy of a cheesy romance novel and a fantasy book.

"How much time do you need?" Y/N asked in a tired tone, trying not to shift her position, "I'm getting crumps on my face from smiling."

The man didn't answer at the moment, considering for a brief time her question and filling a space on the page that still needed his attention. At last, he looked at her and smiled at the image he had the honour of witnessing. The girl, dressed in a summer white and blue dress, was slightly pouting at the lack of talking from his part. Her hair danced with the wind and he thanked Barbatos for letting him see her golden locks fly around her face.

"Just a little more, my love," he answered, his attention shifting back to the drawing in front of him.

"You said that an hour ago," the girl sighed, putting a smile again on her face so she didn't disrupt her lover from painting her, "I thought you wanted to go see Sucrose before the sun came down. Oh! And also, you promised Klee you'd visit her."

He hummed, immersed in the way her features took a hardened expression when she tried to remember something that needed to be done. Brows furrowed and fore finger on her right cheek, she looked at him in search of a comment from the Alchemist.

"Albedo! Are you listening to me?"

"You're so beautiful." mumbled the man, lost in her and the blush that was forming on her visage.

Shameless and, at the same time, honest and shy. That was Albedo, the one she was engaged to. Such an honourable and good man, someone who loved her as much as the Sea loved its waves, as much as the birds loved the Wind, as much as a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire. He gave her his everything and from the bottom of his own person, and she was grateful for it.

"I'm sorry" he promptly said, coughing on his palm to hide the evident embarrassment he felt, "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

At that, she couldn't help but laugh. He was such a beautiful person, always searching her comfort and well-being before anyone else's, always taking care of her and looking for her. A pure soul, she would venture to affirm.

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," Y/N chuckled, positioning once again for him to portray her, "you know I love it when you compliment me. Now, c'mon, finish before the sun falls."

"As you wish."

One more hour of dirtying their hands in paint and observing the marvellous dusk that came upon them, they left to visit Sucrose, who was willing to tell Albedo about her advances in the research they both were working on.

"That's impressive, Sucrose," Albedo praised the girl, reading the documents and correcting those things he found could be improved.

Y/N turned off the conversation, not really interested in the depths of the Alchemy. She respected what the husband to be and her friend did for a life and she couldn't be prouder, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear the endless conversations about properties a flower could have.

After saying goodbye to the little Alchemist, they both headed to say hello to little Klee, who was mad at them for coming so late, it was already her time for bed and, as she said, 'We can't go bomb fishing!', followed by a 'Do you not love Klee?' Reassuring the little bomb crazy kid was more draining than she could imagine, but she did it for Albedo, nonetheless.

The afternoon turned into the late hours of the night, lilac sky was now dark and adorned with stars. The Alchemist had intertwined his fingers with Y/N's, sighing in content, allowing himself to relax at the warmth of her hand and the serenity reigning in Mondstadt.

"Maybe we should head home, you seem exhausted," commented Albedo after watching his fiancée yawn for the third time in ten minutes.

"That would be great, actually." Y/N yawned again, gaining a quiet chuckle from the man next to her.

No one talked again, everything already said until the moment to bid goodnight when they laid in bed. Albedo, being the reserved man he was, kept himself in his side of the bed, not too confident to spoon his girl still.

The silence was only accompanied by Albedo's soft snores. Darkness decorated the walls of the room in the AM. The sense of being trapped growing inside Y/N as she thought of the implications of her new life. She was engaged to an incredible man, who told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her every single day; who went with her on strolls and made her laugh; who could teach her more than she could ever imagine; who appreciated her as she was.

Still, she felt nothing. At all.

She liked Albedo, that was clear. Who wouldn't like Albedo? He was the perfect man. On more than one occasion, Y/N had Amber and Barbara drooling about how lucky she was to be with someone like him. She knew she was the luckiest girl in Teyvat, most women simped over Diluc or Albedo. But, at the same time, she only felt guilt for being with him without actually loving him.

Anxiety growing on her, she decided to stand up. She walked out of the room, being careful not to disrupt Albedo's sleep, and headed to the transport point, she needed to be away from any form of human activity, she felt like shouting and hitting the first thing she could see. Breathing becoming a very tedious task as she approached the device, opting to go to Mt. Aocang. If she was going to wake someone up, she preferred an Adeptus who wouldn't ask more than any nosy human.

The wind, colder than that afternoon, calmed her to the point her lungs could take the oxygen she had been trying to get for minutes. The orange leaves obscured by the night reminded her of the hair she used to love so much. The hair of that man she had once despised, then loved, and then lost.

He, who claimed to be brave enough to enter her heart, had been the one to take it and keep it even until those days. Y/N noticed how her breathing became irregular again, she was used to it, every time she thought about the Harbinger. That repulsive, irresponsible, dishonest, cunning, intelligent and breath-taking man she couldn't forget. How had she let it come so far?

Albedo gave her everything, yet her heart yearned Childe's love. How pathetic.

"Fuck you, Childe!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring for the Adepti, not caring for those who could hear her cursing the Harbinger Tartaglia at 2 a.m. a Thursday night. "You ruined me, you motherfucker!"

So many fights, so many make outs, so much love making, so many nights under the stars trying to comprehend their feelings for the other. All of that for nothing. Like the bitter cold of Snezhnaya they froze, their hearts on their sleeves, light that came from the satellite above turned off.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you don't like me that much." she remembered him saying, his characteristic smirk on his face, "It's true we had our... abrasions, but girlie, c'mon, don't be so stiff."

She could clearly see in her mind how his hands came to her waist, grabbing her in a gentle but at the same time rough grip. A shivered down her spine, in the present and in the pass, and she was sure she would feel it in the future, too.

"How am I supposed to trust you, Harbinger?" she had said, crossing her arms after pulling away from him.

"Easy, trusting me."

And she did. She felt like a fool for allowing him to be so near, to had felt love from him, for loving him.

"Are you feeling okay? You look pale, my love," Albedo commented, a hand of his on the forehead of his lover, a worried expression on his face.

"Yes, Albedo, don't worry, I didn't sleep too well last night," Y/N reassured him, smiling slightly at her fiancé.

The Alchemist hummed, nodding to himself and returning to his work. The girl had returned to their room after a couple of hours in Mt. Aocang, praying for Albedo to not had noticed her absence. Apparently, he didn't. Had he noticed he would had already asked about it, or so she thought.

"I was thinking about visiting Liyue today, there are some materials there I need for my research," Albedo said after some minutes, looking at her, "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

Y/N's heart dropped. She had to say yes, how could she say no to Albedo? He wanted to spend time with her while still working, an effort she really appreciated. But, going to Liyue? What if he was there? Strolling those streets the two of them had travelled a thousand times.

But his gaze was still on her, waiting patiently for a reply. Doubtfully, she considered all her options: not going and upsetting Albedo; going and crossing him; going and being unable to continue due to the memories. No option was good, she had to choose between her fiancé's well-being and hers. 'He's made so any sacrifices for me'.

"I would love to, love."

Merchants selling, people buying, contracts being signed. That was Liyue in all its glory. Red, green and blue being the most recurrent colour themes on the walls, roofs and gardens, a gift to anyone who wanted to visit a paradise.

Albedo was buying some materials while Y/N stood next to him, not looking at anyone's face in case Childe decided to make one of his classic appearances. She grabbed Albedo's sleeve as a way to comfort herself, reassuring one time and one time again that she didn't have that much of bad luck to cross him in such a huge city.

She turned her head to look around at last, brave to see the stores and Liyue's people. Many of them knew who she was, having helped most of them at least in one occasion, great people with beautiful and peaceful lives. She had that now, at Albedo's side. But why did she feel like it wasn't what she wanted?

The red mask in one of the stalls froze her in her place, it looked identical to Childe's. She knew it wasn't his, of course, he was too involved in the Fatui and too wealthy to pledge his mask, but it made her remember him and one of the many memories she had with him in Liyue, again.

"Girlie, don't be like that" Childe exclaimed, smiling at her with bravado, "You don't have to feign you don't want that bracelet."

"I don't want it," repeated her for the third time, growing irritated.

"I have enough money to buy it for you, darling," the Harbinger insisted, taking her left hand in one of his and kissing her knuckles.

"How charming," she murmured ironically, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"I know," he smirked, going after her, "and I also know how much you love when I act like a gentleman."

"How would you know that if you've never acted like one?" she snorted, watching his expression turn into an offended one.

"I'm a gentleman, you just can't appreciate my efforts to woo you," he replied with a pout.

"Aw, little Childe can't take a no for an answer," Y/N continued to tease him, smiling slightly at his spoiled brat's act.

"Very well, little lady, you're not having that bracelet," he stamped and turn away from her, walking without a real direction.

"Not that I wanted it!" she shouted at the distance.

Needless to say, she found the bracelet in her purse that night with a cheesy note that claimed 'To my favourite and stubborn traveller, with love, Childe'.

She still had it in her wrist, accompanying her wherever she went, reminding her of the stupid man that gifted it to her. Golden with Snezhnaya patterns, orange jewelry decorating the surface of the material. Albedo never said anything about it, never asked, and she was grateful for it, he knew to respect her space.

Her fiancé had just finished purchasing what he needed, looking at her with a loving gaze. She felt nothing, only appreciation, and she felt awful for not returning his feelings at their best, he deserved to be loved and spoiled. However, she missed him, she missed what they had.

The grey sky announced the storm that was coming, thunder and lightning appearing to give a performance of nature power. She had fought, walked, ran and danced in rain. She had danced, kissed and loved. But nothing of it with Albedo.

"Now a step to the left" instructed Childe, grabbing her waist with his left hand and her hand with his right one, "and now turn around... That's it! Perfect! You're a natural."

"Stop lying," she laughed, following what he was saying and dancing with him in a forgotten valley in some old ruins, "I can't dance for the love of Barbatos."

"I think you're really good, almost seductive," he purred, kissing her jaw and going down her neck, "seeing you move your hips like that just" an animalistic growl came from the back of his throat.

"Okay, calm down big guy, we're not fucking here."

The sound of thunder interrupted his reply, confusing them both for a moment. Suddenly, rain poured and soaked them wet. Y/N looked for somewhere they could go to shelter from the storm, but Childe just laughed and started making her dance again.

"What the hell are you doing, pee-brain!" she exclaimed, desperate.

"Dancing with you under the rain. Isn't it romantic?" he asked, smug as always.

"Romantic until we catch a hypothermia."

He didn't budge. Swaying them both with the dark landscape behind them, leaves flying around, wind aggressive. But nothing mattered as they looked at each other; love, affection and lust hidden in their souls, wanting nothing more than to indulge to the other and become one. How can anyone love this much? How can feelings root that deep? Childe was the only answer to those questions.

With nothing but a soft caress to her cheek, he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her while the rain accentuated the wet sounds. Everything with him was wild, but so addictive she couldn't help but coming undone, indulging to everything he asked silently from her. A kiss in the rain never felt so good.

"I'll be right back, I just need to drop this at Mingxing Jewelry," Albedo said, giving her a peck before leaving.

She stood there for a few moments, wondering what she could do white she waited for her lover. The rain was nearing Liyue Harbor, Albedo had told her he needed to do a couple of things more before going to the transport point to return home. She felt like throwing up, not a single spot in the city did not remind her of the love of her life, including their ugliest moments as a couple.

"How could you!?" Y/N screamed, feeling completely devastated and deceived.

"I had to! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No! It's not okay!" his indifference was breaking her heart, looking at him with disappointment, "Again! You did it again!"

"I was ordered to!" he shouted, his voice the same tone as hers, wrath in his eyes, "I have a job and you knew about it when you decided to fuck me!"

"What the hell, Childe!" she cried, "First of all, you nearly destroy Liyue! Again! Not only once but twice!" she was tired, everything was going down in front of her and she didn't want to watch it come to ruins, "And fuck you? You mean love you?"

"Love, sex, everything's the same, isn't it?" he replied, calmer and returning to his indifferent tone.

"W-what do you mean?" the fuming storm stopped to bring an eye of the hurricane, waiting patiently to unleash the tsunami over them.

"What you heard; I don't find a difference between the two concepts."

"You're lying," she murmured, unbelieving. How could he say that when an hour ago he was looking at her with so much love? Was it all an act? No, you can't feign feelings so deep.

"You're just too fool to see it, girlie," his smirk appeared, making her shake in fear, fear of losing what she cared about, "confusing terms and assuming things without asking."

"You're lying." she repeated, more to herself than for him to hear. He sighed, as if he was done with her.

"Think what you want. Now, there are people waiting for me. Until next time, girlie."

The shattering of her heart served up as the soundtrack of his departure. The leaves that had been once so vibrant and full of colour now danced around her in muted tones, mocking her. That was it, the end of their love. The palace the resembled their union fell into pieces, she needed to let go of him. The words he said cut deeper than a knife, made her feel cold. But how could she let go if she still loved him?

"So now you're with the Alchemist," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, making her turn to the source of it.

There he was. Orange hair and piercing blue eyes. His smirk wasn't present in the portray he displayed of himself, walking as the noble man he said he was. Her heart raced for the first time in years, asking her for indulgence, for permission to feel.

"Yes," was the first thing she said after some minutes processing what was happening. Childe was there, in front of her, "yes, I'm with Albedo."

"I see," he commented, uninterested. She thought that was all the interaction they would have, that he would go away again and leave her live her life, but she had to know better, "even if you can't forget me, you allow yourself to be with someone else?"

"What is it to you?" Y/N felt offended, who did he think he was to reprimand her in such a dirty way? He couldn't know she wasn't over him, could he?

"It's unfair for both of you. You see, love shouldn't feel like you owe something to someone just because they love you." Childe said, his gaze falling at the bracelet for a couple of seconds before looking at the landscape, "You're fooling him and yourself."

"And what would you know about love?" the question came in a bitter tone. She was angry, how dare he talk about love when he did her so wrong? When he hurt her so much?

"Touché." Childe gave her a sincere smile that reached his eyes, it was breath-taking. Y/N felt her stomach twirl and her heart jump at the sight of such a beautiful scenario, "Glad to see you well, Y/N. See ya!"

And like that, he left the place as if he hadn't turned her world around again. She missed him, she admitted to herself that she missed him. She missed his wild nature, his odd conversations, the mystery wrapping around him. She couldn't forgive him, but she couldn't live without him, either. That's the way she loved him.

Once Albedo returned from his errands, they both went to the transport point to return to Mondstadt. The way back was silent, but not a comfortable one as they always had, there was some tension lingering in between them. She wanted to attribute it to the tension she had been carrying since her encounter with Childe, but deep down she knew there was something else.

When they entered their house, they both changed into their sleeping garments without sharing a word, waiting for the other to be the first one to break the silence. Y/N didn't have it in her to be the brave one in the situation at hand, so, finally, Albedo spoke.

"I know you're not over him," he said, calmly, but there was jealousy in his tone.

She was surprised to hear him say those words. She never mentioned Childe before, less being in a relationship with him. She wanted to feel fear, the same one she felt when her argument with Childe broke them apart, but she felt nothing at all. Why? Why couldn't she be in love with a man life him?

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N." Albedo sighed, sitting at the edge of their shared bed.

"B-but", she stuttered, searching for words, "H-how do you know...?"

"There were rumours... some years ago, about the 'traveller' being with one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. It was during your time at Liyue."

She nodded, understanding, but really not understanding anything, "Did you believe them?"

"I can't say yes, but I can't say no, either." Albedo looked at her, he didn't look angry, and that made her feel a little bit better. "I just couldn't know if it was true or not because I wasn't there."

"I see." another moment of silence followed. She took a deep breath and looked at him in the eyes, "Why do you say that I'm not over him, though?"

"There are so many signs, you aren't the subtlest person, love." he chuckled, "The bracelet has Snezhnaya patterns and you haven't taken it out in all these years. I can only assume it was a present from Tartaglia."

Y/N nodded again, impressed with how observant Albedo was and with his deduction skills. She wished for the hundredth time that day that she would have fell in love with him and not with the Harbinger.

"I'm so sorry-" she began, but was quickly interrupted by her fiancé.

"Don't." he commanded, "That's not the only thing that gave you away."

"What do you mean?"

"Your late night trips."

'He knew' she thought, searching for any clues that could tell her when he had discovered it, but there were none. 'He has known all this time.'

"Why haven't you said anything?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you space," he began, "I must admit, however, that at first I thought you were cheating on me."

"I would never-" she was interrupted again, a kind gaze on his eyes.

"I know, I know. I realized when you came home smelling like grass and mint and not with the cologne of another man."

It was silent again, Y/N tried to find anything she could say to make him feel better, but she couldn't even understand himself. Why isn't she feeling her heart shattering? She knew why, but she didn't want to indulge in that feeling.

"I'm so sorry, Albedo. I really am."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." those words sounded identical to the ones she had directed to Childe once upon a time.

"I am aware that you don't love me the way I love you."

"Albedo-"

"But it's okay, I can love both of us enough to fill that gap."

She was at a loss of words. Had she heard it right? What did he mean? Albedo was so calm, so ethereal, looking at her fondly even when he knew she didn't feel the same. He was going to marry a woman that didn't want him the same way she wanted her. And even though he was aware of that, he was smiling.

"Why?" she wondered out loud.

"Because that's how it works, that's the way I love you, until you can return my feelings."

The leaves that danced aggressively at the other side of the window stayed still, processing the scene going on in the room of the Alchemist and the Traveller. Their colour coming back to a vibrant one, giving her hope of being able to love again, to feel something.

Her love with Childe was like the Sun and the Moon, so in love they were crazy for each other, but impossible and unworkable. But, Albedo loved her like the Sea loved its waves, like the birds loved the Wind, like a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire, and she was going to return it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but she would. And when she did, she would love him as much as the Leaves loved their trees, as much as the Lake loved the rain that floods it, as much as the Horizon loved dusk.

She bid goodbye to Childe that night, leaving the bracelet in the drawer in her nightstand. Adorning her hand only was the ring Albedo had gifted her.

"See you, Childe," she murmured at 2 a.m. before falling in her slumber.

#albedo x you #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #tartagila #genshin impact #genshin liyue #liyue harbor #mondstadt

[mctherofdragons]

Head Above Water | D.M.

He found you captivating, but not in the way Pansy Parkinson was. Pansy was pretty like the girls in the cinema, but you were captivating like the girls in the Jane Austen novels he secretly read by the fire at Malfoy Manor.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader

Request:  A muggle born reader that's always bullied by Crabbe and Goyle, But Draco is always watching her, and he considers her like the purest girl in the universe, but he refuses to leave those feelings bloom thanks to the blood status and shit. One day Goyle brings her to the lake to tease her, and Crabbe pushes her to the water and she starts to drown? Draco is panicking and he comes to rescue, once he brings you there there's fluff and him confessing to her! I love your writing love!!

Trigger Warnings: drowning, near death experience, bullying, mouth-to-mouth

Author’s Note: This request had me all sorts of emotional. We love protective Draco. I didn’t edit this so I apologize for any typos. By the way, friends, requests are open. Please let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist. I have taglists for all Harry Potter universe writings and a Draco Malfoy specific taglist. _______________________________________

Draco mindlessly doodled in the margins of his textbook, barely listening to Slughorn drone on about solutions and ingredients. He wasn’t listening, as the blonde’s mind was almost always on you. He found you captivating, but in the way Pansy Parkinson was. Pansy was pretty like the girls in the cinema, but you were captivating like the girls in the Jane Austen novels he secretly read by the fire at Malfoy Manor. He was entranced by what he couldn’t have. The forbidden fruit, he thought to himself, peering at you across the classroom.

Blood lineage was something that had been ingrained into Draco’s psyche as far as back he could remember. His father would speak to him sternly, explaining how pureblood wizards were of higher esteem. Mudbloods, as Lucius had called them, were nothing more than grime. Draco had taken the only knowledge he’d ever known about blood purity and applied it to his daily actions. He took pride not only in being of ancestry, but of spitting insults on any muggle-born he came across. The only problem was he had never accounted for a girl like you. A girl whose laughter sounded like cardinals landing in trees and whose skin looked like artwork.

After class, he had found himself sitting out by the Black Lake, secretly writing poetry in one of his notebooks. It was the perfect day to be in the tepid fall sunshine, listening to the sound of fellow students chatter and bask in the last few weeks before the snow began to fall. If anyone had known just how soft Draco Malfoy was for you, his reputation would be irredeemable. But in this moment he didn’t much care. He relished in the feeling of the warm autumn breeze dance across his skin as he found ways to describe you, drawing in cursive letters with his quill: she is bewitching, divine, perfect, angelic, everything-I-ever-wanted. Draco heard a bit of a commotion and peaked up. He saw his two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, looming over you. You had been sitting right on the edge of the lake, a blanket spread beneath you. As you had worked away at reading your Defense Against the Dark Arts text, your two most despised bullies had happened upon you and decided to use you for their amusement. Goyle had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder, laughing loudly. “Let’s dump the mudblood in the water like the garbage she is,” Crabbe cheered. You kicked you legs, banging on Goyle’s back to get him to drop you.

“Putrid mudblood,” Goyle laughed despite your protests. All at once, he heaved you into the water. Maybe he was trying to kill you, but the reality was that Goyle likely had no idea just how deep and dangerous the lake truly was. The water was icy cold, sending shock waves of pins and needles all over your body. You were sinking faster than you legs could keep up with. Your surroundings were pitch black and regardless of your efforts, you couldn’t see anything besides the sun which felt a million miles away above you. Your mind raced with thoughts of the creatures you knew lurked beneath the surface. You tried with no avail to paddle upwards toward the light.

Panic had set in as the sweeping realization came over you that perhaps this was how you were going to die. Murdered at Hogwarts by a pureblood - which honestly was not far off from your muggle family’s greatest fear. You closed your eyes for a moment, beginning to lose more air and the inability to continue fighting. You had contently accepted your fate, until you felt an arm sweep around your waist. Your savior was pulling you quickly up toward safety.

You were unconscious by the time you had been laid on the grass. “Oh,”  whispered, pulling your mouth open and attaching his. In an effort to save you, Draco did the first thing he could think of - mouth to mouth resuscitation. He was breathing heavy as he attempted to refill your lungs with oxygen from his own. “Come on, beautiful girl,” he begged, taking a deep breath before leaning back down to attach his lips over yours again.

Finally, you began to sputter. You felt yourself be turned you onto your side and let any water you had inhaled come out of your mouth. You turned back over to look at whoever had pulled you from certain death, moving your wet hair from your face slightly. There before you sat a soaking wet Draco Malfoy. His platinum hair was matted down to his head. You gazed over him, taking in the sight of his white button up shirt, which was now opaque and sticking to his skin. Water rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw and onto the ground. He teeth chattered and he shivered a bit as he looked back at you. The autumn air that had once felt pleasant now felt like an artic wind.

“M...Malfoy?,” you coughed, taking a deep gasp in. It was painful to speak.

The blonde cupped your face. His family ring felt glacial against your jaw bone.  

“I thought I’d lost you.”

You noted his choice of words. It wasn’t that he had thought you were dead, or that his friend would be in an awful lot of trouble. He thought he’d lost you. The words that came next were perhaps more jolting than the freezing water you’d just come out of.

“Oh, I’m so glad you are alright. You are exquisite, y/n. I love you, long have I loved you,” He said breathlessly. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. If you give me the chance, I’ll protect you forever. I’ve wanted for so long to tell you, and I’ve been a fool for waiting. To think I almost didn’t get my chance...I....”

You cut him off, reaching up to place a finger to his lips. You gazed into his blue eyes, searching for any inking that this was all a part of the grand and horrible stunt that had just been played. But there was no contempt in his irises, rather, just pure adoration of you and everything you were to him.

He leaned down, stopping for a moment to read your eyes, as if to ask for consent. You leaned up, letting his cold lips meet yours. Your body felt warm again as you pressed back into him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip. Just then, you heard the voice of a professor, practically screeching.

“Get her to infirmary! Oh, dear Miss Y\L\N,” she tutted, watching Draco pick you up. You gazed up at him, enamored by being held in his arms.

“I’ll take her,” he said protectively. You felt safe for the first time since starting at Hogwarts six years ago. You felt chosen by someone you didn’t think would in a million lifetimes chose you.

And perhaps, you thought, this makes me feel like I’m dying in the most beautiful way possible.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco #draco x reader #dracotok