#for a brief window of a couple of years she and i were each others best friend

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Taking a Sick Day 🤒 (Ominis Gaunt x F!MC)

Alternate title: "come over, my parents aren't home!"

I'm back from another writing hiatus! Please enjoy this floor-fucking smut!

Warnings: NSFW || P in V || 0ral || f!ng3r!ng || loss of V || Characters are aged up and 18+ || MDNI || (1892 words)

“Oh sweetheart! You’re burning up! You can’t go out like this!” Ominis’s mother exclaimed as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on her son’s forehead. “Everyone else will just have to go without us.”

“It’s alright mother! I wouldn’t want you to miss the party! I can stay home alone. I’ll be asleep most of the evening anyway.” Ominis pleaded, praying he didn’t sound too desperate. 

“He’s right dear, the boy is eighteen now, he’s old enough to stay home alone for an evening.” his father’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. 

After a few moments of discussion between Ominis’s parents, it was agreed Ominis could indeed stay home, while the rest of the family attended a dinner party that night at the home of a family friend. Ominis smiled to himself as he heard his parents leave the room, waiting until their footsteps receded before jumping to his feet, dashing to his desk and quickly crafting a letter, whispering words to his self writing quill before shooing his owl away so that his letter could be delivered as quickly as possible. 

Ominis’s plan was turning out to be a success so far.

An hour later, the Gaunts were saying their goodbyes to Ominis, letting him know that they would return past midnight, and that they wouldn’t wake him when they returned. Once they had left, Ominis summoned the family house elf, letting the elf know that he was giving him the night off so that he could be alone while he recovered from his “illness”. The elf was happy to oblige. When Ominis confirmed that the house was indeed empty, he made his way to the family room and waited, his heart beating out of his chest. 

Less than twenty minutes passed before Ominis heard the sound of tapping at the window of the family room. He dashed to the front door, listening for a moment before he called out.

“Darling, is that you?”

“Yes! It’s me!” Came the beautiful voice of his girlfriend before he felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He kissed her back and led her inside, shutting the door behind him. 

“I was so worried they wouldn’t fall for it! Had I known this was that easy I would have skipped out on every one of our History of Magic classes!” Ominis said as he proceeded to quickly give his girlfriend a tour of his home. She laughed at his remark, but her eyes were wide in awe, taking in her surroundings. 

“Ominis, your home is incredible!”

Ominis felt a slight pang of sadness knowing that this was the only way he could have her in his home - in secret. The couple had been together since their fifth year, with their romantic interactions being few and far between due to a lack of privacy at Hogwarts. They managed to see each other occasionally over the summer holidays, but this had to also be in public spaces, her muggleborn status making an invite to the Gaunt manor forbidden, lest she wish to be killed. Recently, Ominis had begun to slowly and secretly steal from his family’s fortune, waiting until he had stolen enough for them to run away and start a new life together. Until then, their relationship would need to remain a secret.

So, when Ominis learned that his family would be out of the manor one evening for several hours to attend a party, he couldn’t deny himself the opportunity to have the place to himself, for him and his beloved to do whatever they pleased. A simple potion created to make the drinker appear sick with a fever was all Ominis needed to make this evening work in his favor. 

After giving her a brief tour of this home, Ominis led her back to the family room, where he sat himself on a dark emerald velvet sofa, while she remained standing. With a quick wave of his wand, Ominis lit the grand fireplace that was across from the sofa.

“Darling, don’t just stand there, come sit with me.” Ominis leaned back, making his lap readily available for her. 

A nervous giggle fell from her lips. “Sorry, this is just…so different from what we normally do. I don’t think we’ve ever been this alone before.”

“Well, we should take advantage of the opportunity then.” Ominis began to worry he might be sounding a bit desperate. The growing desire for her, as well as the growing bulge in his trousers, was hard to ignore. 

His worries faded when she straddled his lap, her hands coming up to hold his face as she kissed him. As he deepened the kiss, he brought his hands to her hips, gently guiding her so that her core was slowly grinding against his bulge, which was now straining against his trousers. Ominis could feel the tension releasing from her body as she began to move her hips on her own, increasing her pace as she continued to grind against him.

“Take your clothes off.” Ominis said breathlessly as he pulled away from her lips, the desperation completely taking over him. 

Without a second of hesitation, he felt her body leave his lap, followed by the sounds of her clothing coming off. Ominis followed suit, remaining on the couch as he undressed. He couldn’t help the soft groan that left his lips when he felt her sit back on his lap, her skin coming in direct contact with his own for the first time. 

She resumed her previous action, grinding herself against him, her bare cunt rubbing against the length of his hard, leaking cock. Ominis slipped his hand between their bodies, gripping his cock and trying to guide himself inside of her, but she pulled away, sinking down to her knees, trailing kisses down his chest as she did so. 

Her pace was slow as she took his cock into her mouth. The oral pleasure she had given him before was always quick and quiet, either in an alleyway after one of their dates, or in an empty corner of the library when they were still in school. But right now she was taking her time, savoring every second of this alone time they had, and it was driving Ominis crazy, moans freely falling from his lips as his hands wrapped around her soft hair. 

“Wait, wait, stop, not yet!” Ominis groaned, knowing that if she kept this up any longer he was going to fall off the edge way too early. “Come here.”

She did as she was told, resuming her original position on his lap, her lips immediately latching on to his. As he kissed her, he slipped his hand between their bodies once again, this time turning his attention to her as he slipped two fingers inside her wet cunt. She moaned against his lips, and adjusted her hips so that she was matching his movements as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. After a few moments he pulled his fingers out of her, using the same hand to slowly stroke himself as she lined herself up with his cock. When she was positioned perfectly, Ominis’s hands went back to her hips as she slowly sank herself down his length. 

She let out a long, drawn out moan as her body adjusted to the new feeling. “Easy, darling, easy. We can just go slow.” Ominis whispered softly. She gave him an affirming hum before she began to slowly ride him, Ominis’s hands encouraging her as they remained on her hips. Her hands moved from Ominis’s shoulders to the back of the velvet sofa, gripping it as she picked up her pace, Ominis’s hands still keeping her steady.

The Gaunts would surely kill their son if they knew what he was up to right now, and with a muggleborn no less. This was the ultimate act of rebellion against his family, and the realization of this, coupled with the way she moaned in his ear, coupled with the way her walls tightened around his leaky cock, almost made Ominis fall over the edge right then and there. But he kept his composure, knowing he wasn’t anywhere near done with her yet. 

“On the rug, now.” he commanded breathlessly as he lifted her off of his lap by her hips. She obeyed immediately, lying on her back on the large white rug that adorned the floor in front of the sofa. 

For a moment, Ominis felt it a bit crude to be taking the woman he loved on the floor, but he ignored the feeling, immediately diving between her spread legs. Moans of his name filled the room as he alternated between licking and sucking her clit. When her moans became louder, he slipped his two fingers back inside of her, working her with both his mouth and fingers. He was so lost in the taste of her, it was difficult to pull away, but eventually he did, positioning himself so he was directly above her.

“I love you.” He whispered against her lips before he gently kissed them. As she kissed him back, Ominis once again weaved a hand between their bodies lining himself up with her, gently sliding back inside of her. 

The gentleness was gone the moment Ominis bottomed out, as he began to fuck her mercilessly on the rug. He knew he didn’t have much time before he reached his climax, between the sound of her moans and the feeling of her legs wrapping around him. But, Ominis, ever the determined Slytherin, refused to let himself finish until she had first.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Ominis began to feel her walls tightening around his cock. His soft praises of “you’re so close, darling” and “you feel so good” gave her the final push she needed as she nosedived off the edge with a whimper of his name. 

Ominis slowed his movements down slightly, savoring the feeling of her orgasm as he himself was finally pushed over the edge. He once again considered the significance of this moment, juxtaposed with their current location, and cursed his bloodline as he emptied himself into her. 

There was no sense of urgency as they laid on the rug reveling in the afterglow. No need to quickly clean up and get dressed, or act as if they weren’t doing anything at all. Ominis could just lay there with her, listening to the sounds of the crackling fireplace, and the soft sighs of her breathing.

Although he could have laid with her on that rug for hours, Ominis eventually sat up, still wanting to enjoy the empty home. He led her into the garden, where they took an evening stroll before she provided Omins with his second orgasm of the night, taking him into her mouth again while they sat on a garden bench.

Once they had gone back inside, the two retired to Ominis’s bedroom, fatigue beginning to catch up to them. The time was approaching midnight anyway, and Ominis didn’t want to take any chances in case his family arrived earlier than expected. As they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Ominis couldn’t help but wonder when his family would be attending a dinner party next. 

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt smut

[229zmi]

DO YOU THINK WE’RE LOVERS IN EVERY UNIVERSE?

Kuroo Tetsurō/Reader | 2.5k words, lots of description and run-on sentences and like 3 lines of dialogue, brief mention of kuroo’s parents separating

It’s simple. At only seven years old, Kuroo decides that love is always going to be a hair out of his reach.

Perhaps it’s foolish of him to make such a finite conclusion at a young age and to already determine so early on in his life that yes, love is a finish line he is never going to make it to — that love may be something he can only observe in his surroundings but never truly hold as his own. But this has been his observation for years, so he can’t help himself from thinking of it in this forever-unattainable sort of way, that is: if love is something like a narrow world — one where he can see where it starts and ends, what it encompasses, and what it lacks all at once — then Kuroo Tetsurō is stuck idling along the edge, perpetually on the outside looking in.

And you know, most people don’t remember the first few years of their life. Yet somehow, he remembers the first time he looked in and caught a glimpse of the parents who lifted their kids up, twirled them around, held their hands, kissed the crown of their heads, asked them about their day. He saw the sunlight pool onto their smiling faces, heard their laughter bleed into the afternoon, and felt the breeze of their light-hearted chatter brush over his head, so close that he swore he could almost touch it himself.

Then, he blinked and time inched forward, slowly unveiling a version of love that was much quieter than the one he witnessed in the vicinity of an elementary school, so subtle yet ardent — so incredibly mundane yet human all the same.

On the train he took to his grandparents’ place, he admired the shy looks exchanged among two young lovers sitting across from him. He yearned for the experience shared between an elderly couple a few empty seats away, shoulders connected and timeworn fingers intertwined as if the two were one; listened in carefully on a phone call from the woman beside him, who seemed to be speaking to her mother with the amount of delicate I miss yous and promises of visiting home soon; and found a warm feeling bubbling his chest at the sight of a person waving at their friend through the window until their fingers turned red and numb from the wind and the train began to depart from the station.

(By then, the friend had already turned back around, yet Kuroo still watched the other person grow smaller in the distance, wiping away at their cheeks and sort of curling into themselves as if the loneliness was suddenly too cold to bear.)

Even in the love-laced tunes that spilled out through the overhead speakers at the grocery store, love was there. Certainly, it was there and alive and flooding his mind with convoluted melodies and sentimental lyrics. It lived, too, in the old-timey romance show his grandfather loved to watch on full volume at seven-thirty every evening and in the memory box his grandmother said she had kept under her bed for decades.

It was a matter as indisputable as the moon orbiting the earth: love was… everywhere. Suspended in the frosty air after a long day at school, dancing through the crowd on the train to Ibaraki Station, and lingering above him as he wandered through the cereal aisle. Even if it wasn’t quite his — wasn’t really for him — love was all around him, ever-prevalent in the nooks of his life and taking the form of bits and pieces that seemed to make up a larger mosaic.

So, when such intricacies were rare in his childhood for him to keep, Tetsurō, who loved love for what it was the moment he could echo the word in his mind, made sure to hold on to each memory as tight as his hands would allow, lodging every fragment in between the crevices of his palms as if it was the ink of an invisible tattoo embedded permanently into his skin.

The two lovers on the train lived in the uppermost line across his right palm. The elderly couple resided in the one below it, among other connections he witnessed along the way. Romantic ballads he overheard at stores and on the radio took up most of his left hand; and in the finer lines, between rough callouses and bruises too tender to touch, there were his grandfather’s show and his grandmother’s old shoebox of memories.

It was so simple before. Kuroo used to like it that way.

But then summertime hits, and suddenly he’s eight-turning-nine with sunkissed cheeks and scuffed knees, when terse conversations throughout the day and wrathful voices at night aren’t supposed to be thing in his life anymore, apparently, because home isn’t with his mother and father and sister in a small apartment in the prefecture of Nagano anymore.

Instead, home is in Nerima City now, and it stands right before his eyes in the form of an old, visibly timeworn door. With the sky as barren as a pond completely frozen over and his mind muddled with a wide range of emotions, there’s an ache in his chest as the door opens, revealing two elderly faces who, as unfamiliar as they appear to Tetsurō, welcome him and his dad with wide open arms.

(Later, he learns that they are his grandparents, his father’s parents. Even later, he discovers that neither of them like watching television very much and that the space beneath their bed is less a place to keep tangible items of nostalgia than it is a haven for cobwebs and dust.)

Still, he doesn’t let go of the past. There’s a craving in his heart that is as fiery as the sun against his back on a hot summer’s day, and back at his old home and in the old routine of things, he had found a way to live with it through filling the empty spaces in his palms. Now, it’s telling him to keep going — to keep on collecting the mosaic tiles that other people had left behind on the ground and add new to the old, fuel to the flame.

So, he does.

Kuroo blinks again. It’s still summer, just nearing the end of it, except he’s fifteen-going-on-sixteen this time around, no longer navigating the daunting hallways of Nekoma Grade School but instead partway through his first year of high school.

(Where did time go?)

Perhaps it is because he’s bigger than he was at five and seven and almost-nine, evident in the way his hands have already grown too large for last year’s pair of winter gloves, but he sees more of the world than he has ever before — sees more, holds more, loves more with a newfound ease that most likely would’ve put younger him into shock.

With that being said, some of the new people he meets — they don’t stay forever, despite his tendency to hold on and never let go.

Actually, none of them do because forever is, well… way beyond his lifetime. However, the point is, people come and go. There are those whom he was never meant to see again after the first time, colliding once and then heading in opposite directions like two perpendicular lines. Others pull out of his orbit after a couple of months, a few years, or however long it takes for them to drift apart because their interests had grown less aligned with time or because something else had happened and there was no saving the relationship from it.

(He thinks of it like this: a scene of ambivalence, in which he is not a bystander on the train to Ibaraki. Rather, he is the one standing out at Nagano Station, waving at familiar faces through the window until his wrists hurt and the smoke begins to billow out above him, twisting and turning like the rotten feeling in his gut. He’s the one watching them leave, but no one will be there to see him if he cries.)

Nonetheless, there are still the people who stay a while longer, weaving themselves back into his life time and time again. It’s never going to be forever — he knows that, and maybe it would hurt less if he didn’t — but they’re with them in the present and that’s what matters.

And, maybe, if he squints closely enough, he’ll see that an unshakeable mosaic of his own has started to form, of the memories he’s created over the past several years instead of strangers’ fleeting moments he picked up from the threshold.

Somewhere along the line, the strangers from the train had moved to smaller crevices in favour of the family who lived next-door to the Kuroos’ house. Further in time, all the lyrics he used to keep locked away in the many lines of his left palm for so many years had begun to fade away as inside jokes, pick-up lines, sincere compliments, and the like occupied the spaces.

Then, in the creases along his fingers: the way a volleyball feels against his hand right before a victory, how the air smells the morning right after a rainstorm, the resolution of a book he managed to read in one sitting, the late night conversations that took place on the phone between him and Kenma whenever he couldn’t sleep, and finally the playful banter he exchanged with his lab partner during class, who didn’t seem to mind whenever he said something corny about the two of you having chemistry together, even if — from the deepest depths of his heart, where lay the secrets he was too afraid to admit — he wasn’t really meaning it as a joke.

It’s still summer, by the way, although it’s been seven years since he moved— just nearing the end of it with shorter days on the horizon and auburn leaves turning brittle beneath his feet. And all of a sudden, he finds that his world seems to have grown a little wider and love feels heavier in his hands these days.

So yes, perhaps it was foolish of him to make such a finite conclusion at seven years old, to think of love as something so unattainable and out of reach. Because twenty years later, at twenty-seven, Kuroo Tetsurō has it right in the centre of his palms, no longer the outsider looking in on a scene he thought he wasn’t meant to be a part of.

It must be sometime after midnight when his name falls upon his ears in the form of a tentative whisper, sweet like the peppermint melting on his tongue as his fingers hover over the keyboard, frozen at the sound of your voice. Coming from his lab partner turned friend, then lover— it’s a stark contrast to the way you used to say his name back in high school, during the painfully long two years of pining before the day he finally insisted, with sweaty palms and his heart pounding in his chest, that you use his given name instead. Tetsurō, instead of Kuroo, or Rooster Head and Annoying Bastard and Shithead, which you used interchangeably with his surname until a teacher overheard and assigned you cleaning duty in the restrooms for a week.

(Of course, that didn’t stop you from calling him those epithets still, even today. If he provokes you just enough and presses all the right buttons, he’s sure to hear the same string of offensive names from you again, although there’ll certainly be less venom behind it now compared to when you were teenagers, thinking the other was the most irritating person in the whole wide world.

…Where did time go? he wonders again.)

You should’ve fallen asleep long ago. Not only had he thought the sound of his typing would’ve at least lulled you to sleep, there isn’t anything particularly riveting about watching someone type up a report on their laptop. Nevertheless, you insisted on staying up anyway, fighting through the drowsiness that threatened to wrap around your neck and yank you into dreamland.

His eyes sweep over the planes of your face, down the slant of your nose, and along the curvature of your Cupid’s bow before flitting back up to meet your gaze at last as he shuts his laptop, stands up, and pads over to the side of the bed in one quick stride, where you currently lay with one side of your face smushed against the pillow, blinking up at him tiredly.

Tenderly, as if you’re a fragile illusion that could shatter beneath the slightest touch, a hand — his hand — settles against the side of your face, pulling the fat of your cheek between his forefinger and thumb in a playful manner. The action rouses you awake somewhat, and you suddenly remember the reason why you called his name.

“Tetsu,” you say again, barely louder than the clock that ticks on the wall. “Do you think we’re lovers in every universe?”

Despite your lethargy, a sly grin strews across your face like you’re trying to play it off as some inane joke, a frivolous thing rotting away in your brain until you can find the answer. And Tetsurō can only chuckle, shaking his head at your question, yet he indulges anyway, letting the matter soak in his mind for a moment longer as he pretends to think.

Truth is, the answer is simple. He doesn’t have to spend much time mulling over it because even if love didn’t come easy to him in the first decade of his life, loving you comes easy to him enough; he’d do it over and over again in every universe and in every lifetime if it were possible to make up for the lost time he’d spent in this one before he crossed paths with you.

So, Tetsurō answers the only way he knows how— teasingly. Leaning down to land a kiss upon your forehead, he murmurs against your skin, “God, I hope not.”

(You know he’s lying. He’s never been too good at it, with his telltale signs appearing in the form of reddened ears and him avoiding eye contact as much as possible. However, you know it especially this time from the softness in his voice. It’s a tone that you know he’s only ever reserved for you.)

He feels your eyebrows furrow together, and your response comes quick: “Shithead. I hate you.”

(He knows you’re lying, too, when you turn your head to press your lips against the palm of his hand, against the creases that now hold thousands of snapshots of you and many more to come.

The way that you laugh and the way that you smile. How you twist the shiny ring around your left ring finger whenever you’re deep in thought. The times you keep insisting you don’t snore in your sleep despite the multiple years’ worth of evidence on his phone that speaks otherwise.

And most importantly, he thinks, the way that you love him.)

notes: in my kuroo phase tbh…. something abt him Man 😍…. idk if any of this makes sense but the first part of this has been marinating. in my drafts since july so i wanted 2 finish this as quickly as possible 〠 Kisses n hugs 2 whoever reads this

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #229ZMI

[lovelytsunoda]

mr. ghostface // lance stroll

summary: a trip to spirit halloween with her husband plants an idea in lance's head that he can't quite shake. knowing how stressed his beloved has been lately, he just wants them to have a little bit of spooky and festive fun.

pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader

warnings: straight up p*rn guys, idk what to tell you. there’s some light roleplay, but it’s done in a very playful and loving way so it’s not too intense, a few brief mentions of anxiety, two people that are truly madly and deeply in love with each other. i am going to hell for this.

authors note: i really like this one because it gave me a chance to play around with two people exploring the kinkier side of their relationship in a fun, lighthearted and carefree way, a way that works for them so they can experience the best of both worlds sexually. i had a lot of fun with this one, and now all I need is a lance in my life :)

there were few stores that y/n stroll loved more than spirit halloween. even now; as a married adult woman, there were few things she thought she could enjoy more on a fall afternoon than walking through the halloween store with her husband, a mcdonalds milkshake in one hand and her beloveds hand in the other.

lance was having the time of his life, delighting in scaring the bejesus out of his wife using the pedals that activated the animatronics. she would always jump, and clutch his arm for dear life, even if she partially knew what was coming.

wife. husband. neither of them would ever tire of calling the other, even after one year of marriage. lance was always saying things like “I’d like you to meet my wife”, or “have you met my wife yet” whenever he met someone new or reconnected with an old friend in the paddock.

their relationship seemed to have never left the honeymoon stage, bursting at the seams with love.

“babe, babe!” lance gushed, fumbling to get a hanger off the display wall. he held up the red costume corset, dangling limply off a plastic hanger. with his other hand, he grabbed the sequinned devil ears hanging above it. “you would look so fucking hot in these.”

she blushed, choking on her milkshake. “lance! outside the house? no fucking way, I’m not that bold.”

“you don’t have to wear it outside. in fact, i was hoping you’d wear it somewhere else. somewhere a little more…intimate.” lance hummed, his hands now resting on her waist, the corset back on the display wall as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“baby, i don’t even think that would fit me. that’s way too small for my ribcage, much less my boobs.” she laughed, slipping her free hand into lances back pocket and resting her head against his bicep.

lance chuckled, kissing her hairline again before reaching to the wall and grabbing a plastic mask. “oh, what about this?” he laughed, slipping the scream mask over his head and turning to his wife.

“whats your favourite scary movie?” he rasped, before breaking out into laughter. “come on, babe! we could be ghostface and casey!”

she laughed, trailing her finger up lances chest before yanking the mask off his head. he pouted playfully, and she laughed before she kissed him gently.

“absolutley not:”

“oh, I’m getting the mask.” lance insisted, taking the plastic from her.

she shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. she didn’t really care if lance bought the mask or not, she just wanted their couple costume to be a little classier than a fictional serial killer and his first victim.

“it’s your money.”

_______________

she sat at the living room desk two afternoons later, finding her attention span increasingly reaching it's breaking point as her bleary eyes wandered away from her laptop screen and towards the picture window, watching the changing leaves on the trees outside. everywhere around her, fall was settling in on the quebec countryside.

"babe!" lance's voice carried from their bedroom. "are you busy? i wanna show you something!"

technically, she was busy. she had a big project due at work, but she was practically begging the universe for a distraction at this point. closing her laptop, she pushed herself back from the table and started walking through the ranch house. the tile floor was cold against her bare feet as she passed through the kitchen, poking her head down the hallway in hopes of finding her husband.

"lance?"

she heard a closet door opening behind her, and when she turned around, she jumped, shriek piercing the air.

"you and that goddamn mask."

lance laughed, face hidden behind the white plastic ghostface mask. "sorry, babe. couldn't resist."

after her initial shock faded away, she realized that aside from the black silk pajama pants on his lower half, the mask was all that her husband was wearing.

"please don't kill me, mr. ghostface." she pouted, wrapping one slender leg around her lover's, running a hand up his bare chest, feeling every muscle and ridge. "i wanna be in the sequel." she wanted to kiss him, but with the mask, that would be hard, so she settled for gently kissing his collar bone. "what's all this for?"

lance raised an arm, pushing the mask off his face. “you’ve been really stressed lately. the other day, i watched you worry about the health implications of having onion rings with your sandwich because you were worried you haven’t been eating well this month.”

and that was true: she had been more anxious than usual, and her intrusive thoughts had been much more pervasive. she’d been trying to get back into a routine, following stretching videos on YouTube and going for walks, trying new recipes. but she was still having trouble falling asleep, keeping focussed. hell, she was even having trouble keeping the routine.

not getting lost inside her own head.

she kissed him gently, resting her body weight against him. lance still made her feel like a teenager in love, her teenage dream. even after a year of marriage there was still so much to look forward to.

like, apparently, nineties slasher roleplay in bed.

"i love you." she hummed, nuzzling into his neck.

"love you more, pretty girl." lance smiled, kissing her forehead. "take fifteen minutes and go make yourself feel sexy, i'm going to get some things out of the freezer for dinner. i'll make that pasta you like?"

“sounds like a plan.”

she tiptoed into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her before stripping out of her leggings and the baggy shirt she had been wearing, trading her cotton panties and wire bra for a short corset top and silk pajama shorts in a deep royal blue. the little silver “l” pendant that she wore around her neck fell gracefully against her skin, hair falling around her shoulders.

she could hear clattering coming from the kitchen. it was lance fumbling around to get the ground beef out of the freezer and into a bowl of cold water to defrost.

she popped open the bath and body works spray on the dresser, mist dusting her skin with body glitter. her spine tingled in anticipation of what was to come, goosebumps rising on her skin as she settled on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other so her shorts rode up, showing off more thigh than was necessary.

lance was a sucker for thighs. specifically hers.

the door creaked open, and lance crept into the room, the mask over his face once again. he paused before the end of the bed, and she was momentarily pissed off that she couldn't see the way he was looking at her. but she knew what that look in his eye would be: pure love and adoration.

"you look stunning." he whispered, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he brushed his hand up her leg, to her thigh. "hey, don't take this super seriously, okay? we're just having a bit of fun."

"i know." she took his hand in hers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "just be gentle with me."

"always."

she dropped his hand, and he brought it to her face, gently caressing her cheek as she looked down at her through the mask.

“what’s your favourite scary movie?”

“hmm, the one where I make it to the end?” she quipped, smiling up at her husband.

“oh, i think I can work with that.” he hummed, running his thumb down the side of her face, down the side of her neck, over her shoulder.

she giggled, flinching under his touch when he brushed against her neck. she had always been ticklish there.

“how are you going to make it worth my while to let you make it to a sequel?”

she uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide and leaning back on her palms. the fabric of her silken shorts had moved just so that lance could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties, a slight dark spot beginning to form on the fabric.

she could hear lance exhale, his breath reverberating against the mask. “you spread your legs pretty fast, darlin’. is this what you want? to let mr. ghostface have his way with you?”

his tone was lighthearted, his voice curling up into gentle laughter at the end of the sentence. it kept the carefree nature of their usual sex life embedded in the scene, despite its adventurous nature, which she would forever be thankful for. she could see the outline of his rapidly hardening cock through his silken pants.

“oh, yes, mr. ghostface.” she purred playfully, playing right into lance’s hands as she palmed one of her tits through the cups of the corset top. “please.”

he grabbed her leg, hiking it up and over his shoulder, dragging her to the edge of the bed and spreading her open for him. she gasped, falling back onto her forearms and pressing her chest up.

“jesus christ.” lance exhaled, his fingers brushing over her sopping entrance. “you’re dripping for me, sweetheart. is this turning you on? you want me to ravish you?”

“yes, mister, please.” she whined, pressing up against the pads of his fingertips. “touch me.”

lance slipped two fingers inside her with very little warning, barely giving her time to adjust before he started flexing his digits rapidly. she moaned under his touch, falling back against the bed.

“uh uh, darling. eyes on me. i want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”

his fingers brushed against her sensitive walls, and she bucked her hips against his hands before struggling up to her shaky arms, moaning even deeper at the sight in front of her: leg up on her husbands shoulder, the mask on his face, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he finger-fucked her.

“that’s it, my good girl. my good, beautiful girl. so good for me.” lance hummed, his thumb coming down to circle her clit. “there better not be a single anxious thought in that head of yours.”

and for the first time that day, there wasn’t. she had crumbled under lances touch, her head empty the second he had kissed her in that hallway. she loved it.

loved him.

“oh god, lance,” she breathed, allowing herself to slip out of character as she reached for his wrist. “i think I’m gonna cum!”

the hand that previously kept a bruising grip on her leg dropped to reassuringly rub circles on her thigh. “I’ve got you, love. just close your eyes and ride out. cum on my fingers, you know you want to.”

she closed her eyes, arching her back as she felt her pussy contract, sucking lances fingers in and refusing to let go as she fell apart around him, whining his name as he scissored his fingers, dropping her leg and trying to guide her through her climax.

he withdrew his fingers, now covered in her release, making sure that his wife was watching before he lifted the mask just enough for her to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, sucking up every last drop.

she whined at the sight, and would have clenched her thighs together if not for lances leg holding them open. instead, she found herself grinding against his thigh as he lovingly cradled her wrist against the mattress, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“you’re so good, pretty girl. so perfect for me in every way. i hope you know that.”

“I know.” she giggled, pressing against him again. “thank you for doing this:”

lances nimble fingers slipped underneath the lacy cups of her top, taking her nipples in between his fingers. she writhed under him, exhaling his name.

“you don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. you just need to scream my name.”

“that can be arranged.” she was certain that her shorts were soaked; they would need some extra stain removal methods when she did the laundry.

lance could feel it too; a dark spot forming on his pants where she rubbed against him. he was starting to sweat under the mask, his hair matted to his face and his breathing heavy.

he slipped a finger underneath her bra strap, teasingly dragging it down her shoulder. she shivered under the sensations, knowing full well how she must look.

lust-drunk, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, pupils dilated.

and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

normally she’d be above begging. but not tonight. not while he was looming over her and fulfilling a fantasy she didn’t even realize that she had.

"please, please, i need your cock." she whined. "i need to be fucked, mr. ghostface. please."

under the mask, lance smirked. he wished he could kiss her, feel her whine into his mouth. “baby, baby, you never need to beg for me. because that means I’m not treating you right.”

“then put your cock in me!” she whined, nudging him with her leg.

chuckling to himself, lance pulled her shorts down her legs, dropping them to the carpet before he got up and slowly shed his own. his wife watched from the bed, butting her lip so hard he thought she might draw blood as she watched his rock-hard cock slap against his abs.

she couldn’t help it, one hand gently palming her clit as she watched lance stalk towards the bed, his breathing loud from inside the mask. despite the lack of control there appeared to be, she knew that she was 100% in control of what was about to happen.

lance gently pushed her hand away from her swollen clit, crossing her wrists over each other and holding them down with one hand. her breath hitched as he ran his cock up and down her folds, her hips bucking, trying to take what little he was giving her.

“are you ready for my cock, princess? are you ready to fucking scream my name?”

“yes, lance, please stop teasing me.”

he slid home in one swift movement, switching his grip on her wrists so that he had one wrist in each hand as he roughly drove into her.

her eyes practically rolled back in her skull as she moaned, her tight center squeezing his cock.

“oh, fuck.” she breathed, closing her eyes with an exhale. “fuck, you feel so good inside me. so deep.”

“you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl. you’re taking me like such a good girl.” lance praised, thrusting harder before loosening his grip on her wrists. “take off the mask, baby. I know you want to. let me kiss you.”

she reached up with one hand, eyes bleary from the pleasure she was feeling as she grabbed on to the black hood of the mask, gently tugging until the mask fell away.

“oh no, now I know your face.” she joked, playing along with the scene. “whatever will I do now? please don’t kill me mr. ghostface.”

lance laughed, leaning down to kiss her. he but down gently on her lip, sucking her bottom lip in between his own. “well, we have two options. I can make you my partner in crime.” he paused, reaching down to pinch her swollen clit. she jumped, squealing in pleasure. his hand still pinned one of her wrists to the bed, the other hand leaving red marks on his shoulder as he continued to pound into her. “or I could make you cum so hard that you forget my face and decide not to turn me in.”

she giggled, pretending to think it over. “I think I’ll take the orgasm.”

“good choice.”

she wrapped her legs around him, pulling his dick even deeper inside of her. he let go of her wrist, bracing himself on the bed while she dug her nails hard into his back, leaving scratches behind. he dropped his lips to her neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to her ticklish skin. she giggled, squirming underneath him.

lance loved it when she laughed during sex. to him, there was nothing sexier than seeing his wife let go. no anxiety, no self-consciousness. it made him feel close to her.

“my beautiful wife.” he grunted, rutting into her hard enough to push her body up the bed. she whined his name, arching her back to press her nipples against his chest.

the skin to skin was what she loved the most. that feeling of being as close as you possibly can to another person.

“oh, baby, right there.” it came out broken and raspy, and she found herself trying to hide her face in her husbands neck. “fuck, that feels so good.”

her walls fluttered, and lances thrusts faltered as he struggled to hold himself up. “are you close, baby? it’s okay, I’ve got you. you can let go.”

she clung on to him for dear life, skin flushed and juices dripping down her thighs. she couldn’t form words, nothing but incoherent whining coming out of her throat. she felt so full, so loved, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap as lance presses his lips to hers, sucking on her bottom lip and bringing one hand down to rub circles on her clit.

“lance, I’m cumming!” she cried, her nails digging into his back as she wrapped her body around him, shutting her eyes tightly as she pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. you did so well, princess. you looked so pretty with my cock inside you.” he said softly, kissing her forehead as he guided her through it, feeling himself start to reach his own limits. “where do you want me to finish, pretty girl?”

she barely had the energy to respond, still trying to get her breath back as her legs shook from overstimulation, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. “inside me, please, god, I need it.”

“fucking hell.” lance grunted, thrusting faster, his balls slapping against her sensitive skin as he went. “god I love you.”

he moaned as he dropped his head, nuzzling into her neck as he came with a howl, his cock jerking as it painted her walls white with his release. he stilled, peppering her face in kisses.

“I love you, baby. I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

she hummed, tangling her fingers in his hair and looking up at her husband. “I love you, too. thank you for saving me from myself.”

lance pulled out gently, his wife whimpering at the newfound feeling of emptiness. she clenched her thighs together, watching as her lover got up from the bed, pulling his silk pants back on.

“oh, babe, put in different pants.” she laughed, playfully throwing the ghostface mask in his direction. “those ones are probably gross as shit right now.”

“they’re not as bad as yours.” he shrugged, fishing a clean cotton t-shirt out of their shared dresser. there was something so casually intimate about sharing a dresser. “come on, let’s get you out of that corset.”

she sat up, pulling the comforter over her bottom half as she lazily leaned back into lances touch. his fingers glided down her back, unhooking the corset clasps and kissing over the red marks where the hooks had dug into her back. she raised her arms and he slipped the shirt over her head, watching the fabric billow gently over her features.

lance settled in next to her, and she rested her head against his chest, gently tracing his tattoo with her fingertip.

fortune favours the bold.

“you work too hard. it’s not healthy.” he hummed.

she sighed, leaning into his touch as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I know. once this project has been handled, the big boss is giving us some time off.”

“that’s good. maybe we can go somewhere. it doesn’t have to be anything big, maybe maine or calgary?”

“yeah, that sounds nice.” she rolled over, supporting her weight on her forearm. “thanks for this, by the way. and for keeping it fun.”

“of course. any time you want me to do all of the thinking for you, just let me know. that’s what husbands are for.” lance slowly started to sit up, easing her back down to the bed to remind her that she needed rest. “I’m gonna go start dinner. go to the bathroom, have a glass of water, and remember to rest, okay? I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”

she smiled, rubbing his arm gently as she looked up at her husband “or I could come to the kitchen and watch. you know I think it’s so hot when you cook, especially when you do it shirtless.”

“oh yeah? maybe I should get a chefs outfit for the next time we spice it up a little.”

“in your goddamn dreams.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @thatsdemko @oconso @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silversainz @silverstonesainz

#the cozy collection 2023 #lance stroll #lance stroll smut #lance stroll x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one smut #Spotify

[futurecorps3]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭

Masterlist<3

Summary: Sirius and reader finally get together and it's time for dinner at the Potter's! Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader Warnings: Idk if it counts as a warning but there's Remus x Regulus for a quick second because I really just couldn't help myself HAHA, and brief mentions of war. Let me know if I missed any! Word Count: 2.8k Requested: Yes A/N: This request is so lovely,, I want to bawl my eyes out. Thank you so much @siriuslyjanhvi for this sweet little piece <3 hope u like it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* "Darling, are you almost done? I don't want to rush you but- shit." His leg stopped bouncing and if his anatomy allowed it, his jaw would be on the floor. Y/N stood there in the black silk dress and chunky heels of the same color she got on their shopping trip last week, clumsily fidgeting with the silver necklace as she'd been too stubborn to ask for her boyfriend's help sooner. "I'm sorry love, it's just this stupid necklace clip won't...well, clip. Can you help me?"

Sirius stood behind her and gently took the metal piece off her fingers, noticing the retouched black nail polish now matching with his. "You look gorgeous," he mumbled, easily fixing the simple looking yet fancy piece of jewelry around her neck and placing a kiss on her shoulder blade. Y/N turned around, wrapping her arms next to his head as he cradled her waist. They've spent so many hours like this since they started dating -and even a little more before- it now feels too natural not to do it when facing each other.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Pads" the girl smiled cheekily, pecking his nose and pulling away from his grasp. "Let's go. Lily will kill us if she finds out we're late because we spent too much time 'gazing into each other's eyes' as she says we do." Sirius laughed airily, grabbing the coat she was clearly forgetting and fixing his hair one last time in the mirror before exiting their bedroom.

As they got into the cab and drove through the rainy streets of London, the boy looked over to Y/N who was intently staring at the droplets of water in the window. Anyone else would've guessed she was looking out into the sidewalk or small businesses along the road, but he knew better. He knew her. Sirius' mind then wandered to all those years he spent staring.

Staring at the way her cheeks reddened when he'd throw one of his seemingly meaningless flirtatious comments. Staring at how her hands contorted when writing, the specific position they had and how much strength she was applying in order for the parchment to stay intact but her letters to be clear. Staring at her as the sun came up on Hogwarts's rooftops and lit up her face beautifully, making him believe in that god his muggle friends mentioned so often.

Oh, how much time he had wasted! But he was too daft to realize little Y/N Y/L/N felt exactly the same way about him. She stared too. Lily once told him after he confessed that she sometimes zoned-out when thinking or staring too hard at him. They were equally whipped for each other and their friends even thought of running a bet on who'd break first. Sirius did and James, Peter, Marlene and Regulus would be fifty galleons richer to this day if the bet would've been concealed.

He felt his hand being squeezed, now actually staring at her and not lost thinking about her while his eyes happened to be directed in her direction. "M'sorry. What?" "I'm really nervous," she giggled anxiously and just then he realized she was tapping her feet lightly on the car's carpet. "Love, they've known you for years! Us moving together let alone dating won't change how they perceive you" "I know, it's just... Euphemia and Fleamont were too polite as to say anything last time we were over for movie night and I noticed little reaction from either of them!" That was over six months ago and they had been dating for four prior to that. After said night, the couple had independently seen Jame's parents, but not really together as a couple.

Euphemia had made small comments around the time they moved in together and Sirius figured she was trying to be respectful of his pace to formally introduce the lively girl they knew all too well as his girlfriend. That day was today. "We're going to be fine, my dear. They're well aware of what's been going on with us... consider this dinner to be merely a catch-up." She let out a breath she didn't know was holding and squeezed his hand again in confirmation.

Soon, the cab stopped. They both walked out after Sirius payed the man, almost giving him galleons. The Potter household had been some kind of sanctuary during the past few years, Y/N recalled as the warm lights bled outside. Inviting. Tender. Just like the family, the house sheltered. "Y'ready darling?" she asked now, as if she was not shitless scared herself. "Let's go," Sirius nodded, taking her hand in his once again and walking firmly towards the door.

The boy walked the few cobble stone steps that led to the entrance and knocked twice. "If it isn't the Blacks!" James smiled, engulfing his best friends in a bone-crushing hug, as always. He had this on-going joke after he proposed to Lily (and she said yes) that Sirius' had to pop the question to Y/N soon and referred to them as "The Blacks" every time they saw each other. "Hello, Jamie" Y/N giggled, kissing his cheek and stepping inside, letting her boyfriend's boyfriend and boyfriend hug for a little longer.

She looked over to the living room and found Remus sitting in one of the green and yellow corduroy couches, smoking a fag he quickly put out in the glass ashtray when she walked in, knowing there was nothing she despised more than the smell of smoke after she quit. Y/N's heart warmed at the action and opened her arms as the lycanthrope approached her. "Hello, sweetheart" he mumbled against her scalp "Hi, baby".

To anyone outside their circle, the interactions Y/L/N and Lupin had might've seemed odd; the nicknames, the regular physical touch, or the constant acts of service. Some could've thought they were dating and certainly there were more than best friends. They were in love with each other as one's in love with pretty flowers or sunsets. Purely platonic, but with a passion that could exterminate kingdoms if given the time. Almost like James's love for Sirius and vice versa.

"Have you tried the coffee?" he asked, pulling away while keeping an arm draped around her shoulders and pressing his mouth against her head. Y/N peered up at him with excitement in her eyes at the thought of the Colombian coffee Remus had gifted her. She looked forward to drinking a cup or two every morning. "It's the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love how you can bite into some tiny pieces of the coffee beans that remain after brewing it". Moony laughed at that, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

"It's great," Sirius' voice was heard as he was standing in front of them now. Remus smirked at his best friend. "I recall I bought that for Y/N/N, not for you, you nasty dog". Y/N's boyfriend barked a laugh and hugged him while roughly patting his back. "Good to see you too, Moons" he said between chuckles before pulling away.

"Mum and dad are in the kitchen, feel like making your grand entrance lovebirds?" James asked from afar, already walking towards said area with Remus trailing behind him. With Remus's warm embrace and how loved her friends made her feel, the stress she had been going through for the past days hours washed away. It was just Euphemia and Fleamont. It was just the Potters. They'd be okay.

Y/N looked at Sirius with expectancy in her eyes and a promise on her lips; they were ready. They held hands, squeezed his lightly and stepped to where their friends were. The spicy smell of whatever James's mom was cooking filled their nostrils, almost making them sneeze. She loved to experiment with them. Lily sat at the table, waving them briefly before she directed her gaze at her in-laws to see their reactions.

Euphemia and Fleamont stopped the meaningless, playful argument they were having about the dish in question and just stared. The silence made the fright come back. She wasn't sure if the sweat that now made her hands wet was from Sirius or from her (or both), Y/N sported a timid smile. "Mum, dad..." her boyfriend started, tightening her grip around her hand "...this is my girlfriend, Y/N". Remus couldn't help but giggle at his mate's behavior. "They know her already Pa-" "I know." He stated all too sure of himself, everyone except his parents laughing.

"Merlin" Euphemia sighed, walking towards them and stopping right there. "My babies!" he squealed, hugging them both just like James had when he greeted them. Y/N could barely return the hug before Euphemia cupped her face while smiling. Then she turned to look at Sirius. "Took you long enough! I thought I'd die before seeing you two together." She smiled wholeheartedly as the others laughed and uttered small agreements.

Fleamont then approached the girl, a knowing eye in his gaze as he always knew Y/N had a thing for Sirius. "I'm thrilled for you kids" he spoke, deep voice lazed in kindness just like the boy he raised. "Y/N was a nervous wreck before we got here," Sirius teased, and his girlfriend looked at him with wide eyes. He did not. "Why!? There's absolutely no reason for you to be-" "Your son's a liar, Euphemia. Come on, let's set the table boys" she cut off, glaring daggers at her lover as he responded by blowing her a kiss with a little wink and an arrogant smirk.

James's mom couldn't help but smile at the exchange. After some time, everyone sat at the table, eager to taste whatever the 'oh so great matriarch' (Lily's drunk praises) had prepared for them. Y/N sat next to her boyfriend, Lily, James and Remus on their other side and their parents sat on both vertical sides of the table. Sirius always left a seat next to him in case his brother showed up.

Naturally, he received invitations whenever these little gatherings would occur since he stuck around his boyfriend, but wouldn't show up or otherwise politely decline. Remus wasn't too bothered by it, knowing he had a hard time settling calmly in "enemy" lines with the whole deal of him being a spy for the Order. They all hoped he'd walk through their door one day... so, until then, the seat would remain intact.

"Be careful, it's burning hot" Euphemia warned, taking her place at the dinner table and smiling sweetly at everyone. "Here, darling" Sirius said, placing a napkin on Y/N's legs and as James noticed the gesture, did the same for Lily. His dad chuckled at that before everyone digged in.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Oh, I have one!" Her boyfriend said, patting his feet eagerly on the floor when Euphemia asked for anecdotes of their Hogwarts youth now that they got older and could disclose the details they all kept hidden when they were younger. "My dear girlfriend was advised by some former booger goblin that goes by the name of Lily Evans to take a shot of firewhiskey for confidence when playing truth or dare on Christmas break-"

"Oh no" Y/N facepalmed in embarrassment at the memory as her cheeks turned red. "-so she'd dare me to kiss her!" Remus groaned, knowing where the story ended. The room fell silent, Sirius and Y/N looking daringly at each other. The girl mouthed something, and he shook his head no, continuing with his story after his girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully.

"So, we are all sitting in the common room, merely cheery as miss Y/N is fully drunk from too many confidence shots and it's her turn to dare me... Mum, any guesses on what happened?" Sirius quizzed the woman on his right and she tried hard to guess.

"Your first kiss!" she exclaimed, eager to hear the end of the story as she and her husband remained ignorant of the situation when all the others knew it by heart. "No..." Sirius grinned as James made a buzzing sound like the one of the alarm on that shitty game show he watched with his fiancé. Batting his eyelashes at Y/N, her boyfriend graciously requested "Care to finish the story, babe?".

Theatrical silence fell into the room, broken by a giggle when the secret glance the couple shared (only Euphemia could perceive) became too much for the girl. "I chickened out and made Remus and Siri kiss...". James bursted out in laughter along with his father. His mom gasped and snickered as Remus smirked with Sirius grinning in satisfaction with his arms crossed around his chest, leaning back on his chair.

"I mean, there was a first kiss, right?" Y/N laughed, looking at her boyfriend. "You'd make a lovely couple, guys!" Fleamont said jokingly, and Moony gagged at the mere thought of dating his brother-in-law. "Oh come on Moons! Even mum agrees. Maybe you'll get lucky enough to be with the handsomer brother in the next life... Y/N/N won in this one" Y/N loved couldn't stand his audacity and delivered a well-deserved smack on the back of his head that had everyone laughing. "Kiss it better" Sirius demanded, leaning in as she pecked his head.

The moment came for everyone to move on to independent conversations, too invested in varied topics. "Mum, you're staring" James smiled, unbeknownst to the couple in question who were now gossiping amongst themselves about anything and everything. "They're perfect for each other, Jamie... He looks at her with adoration and so does she. I'm glad they found each other just like you did with Lils" she nodded, an honest smile adorning her cheeks.

The rest of the evening was spent in laughter, wine and enjoyable conversations, and, as Sirius stared over at the people he held most dear in the universe, he found his heart was full. For many years, this is what he'd wish for every night; a family. Back at the place those people dared to call home, the boy felt misplaced. Lost, like a coin someone dropped behind the couch and is never to be found. He had a family now, and he hoped he'd be able to keep it perpetually.

Around eleven; Remus left, the boys were smoking a cigarette outside, Lily was sleeping on the couch since she had been oddly tired in the past few days and Y/N along with Euphemia were washing the dishes.

"You look happy" the older woman said, passing her another wet dish Y/N dried with a red washcloth. "I am. I'm wearing the smile he gives me" she nodded and Euphemia giggled. "Everyone seemed to know except you guys, growing up" "What gave it away?" Y/N flushed "Eye contact is way more intimate than words will ever be and we always try to hide our feelings but we forget our eyes can speak; you stared a bit too long to be just friends".

The water on the sink started going down the drain with a funny sound as they both wiped away "When he confessed he said he had loved me every day of every month of every year since and asked if I had a single idea of how much he wanted to grab my face and kiss my god dammed mouth. I felt like the biggest fool... and a bit sad we lost so much time" Y/N reflected at the memory of her love spitting those words like a madman.

"Oh darling, you didn't lose time! Everything happens at the time that's meant to happen... it was certainly a excruciating long one in your case, but few couples have the connection you do. You're best friends. I see the secret glances and the pure interest when the other opens their mouth, no matter what they'll talk about. He's right; you're lucky to have him, and Sirius is lucky to have you." Euphemia rambled, the dishes long forgotten.

Y/N smiled, seeing a new perspective on a matter that had been in her head since they had started dating. Time only made the connection stronger. "Thanks, mum" she mumbled as the woman pecked her forehead "You're welcome, baby".

Meanwhile, outside, two best friends and their dad were having a very serious conversation. "It's been three weeks!" Fleamont exclaimed, puffing the smoke out his lungs "I know, I know... your baby boy has been non-stop bugging me about the matter since I got it" the raven haired boy snickered, flicking his second cig down to the floor and stepping on it. "I just don't get why it's taken you so long! What? Are you afraid she's gonna say no?" James now chimed in.

Sirius took the small velvet box out of his jacket, opening it and staring at the ring as he had been for the past month. He was absolutely fucking terrified. Not of her saying no. He knew she'd say yes... hell, even if she proposed he'd say yes in this lifetime and in the next trillion ones. "I just want it to be perfect. She deserves perfect".

Sirius Black ended up proposing to Y/N Y/L/N on a Tuesday morning over coffee. They hadn't slept at all the night before, and when the sun came up with the light bleeding into their shared home, he was looking at her. That was perfect.

And she said yes.

#sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black and reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders ff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter marauders #sirius black x female reader #harry potter x reader #young sirius x reader #wolfstar #jily #moonseeker #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #regulus black

[lewkwoodnco]

Can I make you a request about Anthony Lockwood based on the song “So American” by Olivia Rodrigo🥺😭

so american! - Lockwood x Reader

when he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so american oh god it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much I’d go anywhere he goes when he says I’m so american oh god I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up i might just be in la la la la la la la la la love

a/n: this fic has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now and I was soooo double minded abt writing it so THANK YOU for the ask!!!!!! might not have written it otherwise heheh also I’m sooo proud of how my gifs turned out it was so fun to colour them all guts themed 😍😍 I hope you enjoy!! <333 also im having issues w the keep reading button AGAIN so sorry :(((

warnings/tropes: lockwood and reader are already in an established relationship, fluffy fluff, veeerrry small sprinkling of angst but happy ending! domestic sweetness

word count: 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

“Ready?”

Lockwood ducked into the car's passenger seat, grinning at the sight of her comically desperate expression. George and Lucy were fussing in the backseat, mainly because of Lucy’s seatbelt, or lack thereof, and they didn't seem to notice his arrival.

“Just wear the fucking seatbelt.”

"I'll be fine, George."

"She got her license at 16. 16! They just let anyone drive all willy-nilly up and down the roads in America."

Lucy gave him a look. He finally gave up and tugged at his own seatbelt sceptically, muttering darkly under his breath.

Lockwood & Co. was much more than a psychical investigation agency. Outside of their working hours, each member liked to work on some kind of passion project. After not having driven for over a year since she got her driving license in the States, she had decided to apply for one in London. Luckily, her employer had gallantly offered to provide her with the lessons she badly needed, having been the first of the three to earn his license. Well, employer and boyfriend. 

Her mother could hardly believe the news and, frankly, so could she. In a lot of ways, having an English boyfriend was vastly different from having an American one. First, there was a slight communication barrier, given how terrible she was with accents. Then there were the differing preferences - Lockwood seemed forever ready for a cuppa at any time of day, whereas the only kind of tea she really enjoyed was iced tea. Still, these differences left gaps for lingering gazes and silences that stretched on a little too much, and somewhere in between she slipped her hand into his, and the rest was history. 

Lockwood turned away to buckle his seatbelt.

"Okay, your seatbelt on?"

"Yes."

"Ready to go?"

"Hang on," came George's peeved voice from behind them, "you're not going to brief her first?" The two of them stared at each other blankly. 

"Uh, Y/N, do you remember how to drive?"

"Sure." It was one of those things you never forget, like riding a bicycle. Sure, it had been a while, but how hard could it truly be?

"Brilliant. Now-"

George pulled himself forward between the two front seats, straining against his seatbelt. “We don’t drive on the right side here. We drive on the left side of the road. Left. Left.”

She glanced at her rearview mirror which outlined the line of cars behind them parked on the left side of the street.

“No. You don’t say.”

Lockwood coughed, poorly concealing his laugh as he craned his neck towards the backseat windows. "Right, all clear. I think we can move of-"

"Parking brake."

"Er, right, what George said. Disable the parking brake first."

“I’ve never driven with a parking brake before.”

“So you push in this metal bit, like so,” said Lockwood, gently manoeuvring her fingers into the right grip, “and then pull it up a little, and then bring it all the way down.”

She tugged at it in frustration. “I -it’s not working.”

“Lockwood, did you tell her to step on the “

“Step-on-the-brake-while-doing-that-yes I was just about to say, George. I think I know how to teach someone how to drive. Unless you’d like to take over?”

"Oh, please. You couldn't pay me to sit in the front seat with that maniac driving."

She got her parking brake down, checked her mirrors, and they were off. For a minute there it was quite enjoyable, trundling through the mostly empty backstreets of London. Lockwood even tried to prop his feet on the dashboard before getting badly told off by George. He was forever propping his feet up at the slightest chance - at the Archives, at home, and now here. Maybe it was all part of some innate desire to be a wheelbarrow.

And so, things were going perfectly rosy, until she faced her first real challenge - oncoming traffic. As soon as the car heading towards them came into plain enough view, the four of them went into hysterics. The road was just narrow enough to make overtaking a little too tricky for her abilities at the moment.

“What do I do? WHY isn’t he slowing down?”

“Don’t panic, it’s alright. Stop a little to the side.”

She cursed, fumbling for the brake pedal her foot had carelessly slipped off of. Lockwood was nervously watching the car get closer and closer to them.

“Now would be a good time to stop, Y/N. Brake! BRAKE!”

They shot ahead sharply, swerving right sharply, narrowly missing the car passing them. Lucy swore loudly and George gripped the car grab handle above him as he started scolding no one in particular. 

"NOT THE BRAKE!”

Lockwood gripped the steering wheel over her hands, frantically trying to steer them to safety. With some difficulty, she shifted her foot back to the right pedal and slammed the brakes. There was a bit of a scuffle in the backseat, including George going off on Lucy in a very ‘I-told-you-so’ tone.

At the front of the car, Lockwood and she were still frozen, reeling from the past very exciting 30 seconds. Her eyes settled to where his hands were still resting on hers, tightly pinning her fingers to the steering wheel.

“Your hands are so warm.”

He peeled them off almost instantly, and she was sorry she brought it up in the first place. “Yeah, well, they’re panicking, just like the rest of me. What the bloody hell was that? I thought you said you knew how to drive!”

“I do know how to drive.” She bit back a smile at the sight of her 180 cm tall boyfriend trying to catch his breath with his hand dramatically splayed across his chest, muttering something about Americans handing out licenses to just about anyone.

The drive back to the rental car agency was much less eventful. After returning the car, they trudged back up the road to Portland Row. As they hung their coats up, she met his thoughtful gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He drew in a breath and hesitated. “You look nice.”

“Is this some convoluted way of patting yourself on the back for your fashion choices?”

“So you agree? You think you look nice?”

She groaned. She should have known no good was going to come from showing Lockwood Mean Girls. Still, it was hard to stay mad for long at a face like that. "You’re such a nuisance. A…delightful one, arguably, but still a nuisance.”

"You find me delightful?"

"That's your takeaway?”

"Next thing I know you’ll be saying you fancy me.”

“I’m literally wearing your shirt right now.”

“Luce!” He turned and started down the hallway. “Y/N says I’m delightful!”

As usual, the four of them reconvened in the kitchen a little after lunch for a tea break. Well, the four of them minus Lockwood, who had been bullied into fixing a plumbing issue in the basement. They sipped their tea and chewed their biscuits in silence. She wished she could bring down a little for Lockwood.

“Maybe I should go see if he needs some help.”

“No!” George nearly upset his tea, which made Lucy choke on her biscuit. “ Don’t go down there. You’ll distract him, he won’t get shit done, and that’ll be one more week without hot water for me.”

So she sat back down sulkily, brooding over her tea, until another topic of conversation struck her.

“Speaking of Lockwood -“

“- no one’s mentioned Lockwood-“

“-did you guys see the socks he was wearing today?”

Lucy and George didn’t even try to muffle their groans.

“They were very nice socks! They had the most precious pattern of baby ducks against a darling blue backgr-“

She stopped short as Lucy reached across the table to grip her hand.

“Y/N, I say this with love, but if I have to hear one more word about Lockwood, or his stupid bloody socks, I am going to ram a fork into my eye.”

She blinked, confused, and scoffed. “Gosh, you guys are so overdramatic. I don’t talk about him that much.”

George and Lucy exchanged a look.

“Okay, so maybe I like my boyfriend and I enjoy talking about him. Is that really so bad?”

Lockwood rescued all of them from the siege of George’s response by walking in right then, holding a wrench and looking a little worse for wear, but appeared very pleased with himself.

“Fixed!”

“Finally.”

Lucy frowned at the clock above the stove. “Isn’t that client meeting at Tooting today?”

Lockwood’s smile slipped right off as he glanced at his watch and rushed out of the kitchen, muttering furiously. His simple black leather watch which complemented his wrist so perfectly-

“Y/N! Time to leave!”

Maybe George and Lucy had a point.

Once their client meeting had finished, she and Lockwood stood on the pavement outside the house, looking for cabs to flag down. It was a balmy evening, and a cloudless sky meant they could enjoy the warmth of the setting sun beating down on them. She squinted down the road while Lockwood pulled something out from his coat pocket.

“For a job well done this morning and at the meeting…” he revealed two pieces of tightly wrapped square candies sitting on his palm. “A little treat.”

She stared at the candy for a moment, thinking hard.

“Caramel! I just remembered.”

“…what?”

“That’s what we call it in the States. A caramel.”

“It’s made of caramel, sure-“

“Plural is caramels.”

He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat. “Changing an uncountable noun into a countable one? That’s just lazy.”

“Fine. What do you call it?”

“Toffee.” The vowels rolled off his tongue like silk in that English accent that had made it difficult to fully concentrate from day one. Standing next to him, watching him gently and methodically unfolding the golden wrapper, shining and glinting like a beacon of light…maybe this was all she needed to be happy.

“Taw-fee?”

He pulled a face at her exaggerated American drawl, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he pried apart the stuck halves of the toffee. She watched him visibly relax as the first tangy notes hit his tongue, her own half close to melting in her palm under the brunt of the setting sun. He met her gaze and gave a faint smile, almost reflexively covering her hand with his own.

“God, you’re so American. So, which is it? Toffee or caramel?”

She bites into what's left of the soft treat she's scraped off her palm. It's warm and comforting and she instantly feels a little more happy. Maybe it's the candy, or maybe it's the boy whose side is pressed into hers. Love, she decides. It's love.

“How many cups of tea have you had today?”

As idyllic as the weekend had been, they were back to their usual busy routine which meant that their evening tea break was the first time they’d see each other since breakfast. She had just walked into the kitchen where Lockwood was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a mess of papers with a cup of tea to the side. One of the first things she had learnt about Lockwood was his near-debilitating addiction to tea. Now, he silently took a sip from his mug and she gave an exaggerated sigh, settling into the opposite end of the table.

“You really drink too much caffeine.”

He quirked his lips into a lopsided half-smile -/ he peered at the papers she had spilled onto the table. “What’s all…” he gestured to her papers with his mug, “…that?”

“The Rotwell agents give me hell for my American accent when they’re on duty at DEPRAC.” She held up her list of words dolefully. “‘Least I can do is pronounce things right.”

He slid into the chair next to her, taking a look at the list. “Which one are you at?”

“Pri-vacy. Pri...vacy. Nope, can't do it.”

“Of course it sounds weird when you say it like that. Try using it in a sentence.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. If I have to say ‘pri-vacy’ one more time, I’m running you through with my rapier."

Lockwood choked on his tea.

"...or, you know...'pry-vacy' sounds perfectly fine."

She gave him a brief smile. “Anyway, I’ve got to do a Satchell’s run now. Lucy says we’re out of flares. Don’t wait up for me.”

It took her a decent amount of time to collect all the supplies they were out of stock on, yet when she returned Lockwood was still sitting in that same chair, staring at the same papers with worn-out eyes, distractedly tugging at his hair. He barely looked up when she walked in, mystified.

“You’re still up?”

He rubbed his face firmly. “I can’t…I can’t figure this out.” She took a closer look at the papers. There were reports dating back two centuries on the house of one of their upcoming cases.

“The investigation is tomorrow and I have no idea what or where the Source could be.”

“Well…maybe George’s figured it out.”

“If he did, he’d be home by now.” He hunched over the papers once again, his head swaying dangerously close to the table, and she was instantly reminded of how exhausted Lockwood had looked that morning. As if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. She started stacking some papers together.

“It’s getting late. We should head to bed.”

“But I’m not done yet.”

“You can continue in the morning, but right now, you need to rest.”

His features hardened like he was ready to start a fight, but it lasted all of half a second before they caved to exhaustion. He looked like a drenched cat left out in the rain, with his hair messed up and in disarray.

“George is still at the Archives. What kind of a boss would I be to go to bed now? What kind of a…friend?”

Lockwood leaned back in his chair, briefly pressing a hand to his eyes and then his forehead, his forearm trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed more skeleton than Man with his malnourished pallor and the scar on his lip being carefully outlined by a shadow. She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder.

“Hey. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re human, too.”

He gave a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll come in a while.”

“Promise?”

He gave a jerky nod. The tea in his mug had gone stone cold by then, and so she brewed him a fresh cup. He looked up, confused, as she placed it next to his papers.

“What about the caffeine?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and combed down the hair sticking up all haywire, as if she hadn’t heard him. “What about it?”

He smiled faintly and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze, and returned to his work with his eyes humming with a little more energy.

Later that night, she dreamt that he was falling, and she was losing her mind trying to save him.

She should have known nothing was going to right in the job from the very beginning. None of them had been able to find much information on the house, and they were running late, so tempers were running very high. Even during the case itself, they were forced to split up and fumble through improvised plans. That was until she had stumbled onto Lockwood frozen at the basement door, looking down into the darkness in a strange way. 

Go back, he had said. I don’t know what any of us can expect in this place. So I’ll come with you, she had replied. Or let’s wait for George or Lucy. I can’t. Why not? It’s different. I don’t have the time to explain it. Different how?

You’re more important.

The look on his face was more foreign than the house itself.

Now they were home, back at Portland Row. Lucy and George had sensed something was off and retired to their rooms. Lockwood headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him. He hadn’t spoken a word since her face had blanched at the sight of him poised at the basement’s entrance. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She could feel an argument brewing and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Are you okay?”

Lockwood continued rummaging through the refrigerator for his routine drink of orange juice, taking his time to reply. “Don’t I look okay?”

“Yes. No.” He was terribly confusing. “Why did you say you weren’t important?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said you were less important.”

He finally twisted the cap off the carton with his trembling fingers. The case had shaken all of them up, but for some reason, he was trying to hide it.

“Well…it’s not not true.”

“No it isn’t.”

“I’m a figurehead, Y/N. I represent the agency, that’s my name on the plaque out there, but that’s about it. You, Lucy, George…you’re the soul of the agency.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If…heaven forbid, something were to happen to one of us…”

Oh, he was so aggravating. She massaged her temples. She was going to punch him soon if she wasn’t careful.

“…the lot of you’d be better off without me than anyone else, and-“

"Oh god, shut up already!"

Lockwood abandoned the carton and straightened, and they glared at each other from opposite ends of the kitchen. “Or what? You'll shoot me?"

His expression softened only marginally when he saw how close she was to tears. She shook her head.

"If you pull another stunt like this...I might just have to marry you.”

“I’d have to marry you so that you can look down at your bloody hand and remember that there are people out there who would be nothing without you.”

“Y/-“

“Shame on you, Anthony J. Lockwood. Do you think George wouldn’t care about losing his best friend? Or Lucy? Or me? Hm?”

The tears had started to trickle down her face, and he walked towards her with a sympathetic expression, any and all rage long forgotten, and offered her his handkerchief. She could barely manage a weak glare before caving and accepting it, wiping away at her face. As soon as she was done, she wrapped her arms around him, and he enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled faintly of vanilla.

“That was a…a terrible thing to say, Anthony.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well, you’re doing a pretty shitty job then. I’m worried about you every day.”

She felt rather than saw his smile, though he could perfectly picture it in her mind - uneven and tipped to the right, but perfectly sincere.

"Also, I'm pretty sure that shooting remark counts as xenophobia."

"Yes, I'm hugging you very xenophobically now."

She buried her face into his chest and scrunched her nose hard. It was moments like these that only cemented her faith that she was never going to find somebody who made her feel the way Lockwood did. Seeing him standing outside the basement, she didn’t even need to think about what to do next. It had become incredibly instinctual - her readiness to take his hand and hurtle into the latest oblivion, blind as a bat. It didn’t get more simple than this: she just wanted to be wherever he was. 

It was him and her, and her and him - Portland Row’s cripplingly disaster couple, Mr A.J. Lockwood and Miss Americana.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #olivia rodrigo #guts spilled #so american #songfic

[justmeinadaze]

The King, The Bat, and The Runaway Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Not sure why this took me a billion years to complete but alas lol what's odd is I like writing for this three this way...maybe all the angst lol but it kills me to! I've said it before I hate (love) reading stories where couples have spent time apart for one reason another but pinning...ugh. Maybe it's cause I've experienced it with an ex and that hurt sucks lol

I do want to write like an alternate time line where she does go looking for them after like 5 years or something. Or even one where they do get on a plane and follow her to Europe to find her. Or both. Hey... I'm flexible lol

Warnings: Steddie relationship and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut for sure with angst and feels, they do have a conversation where they show off their scars to each other and talk about what happened within those 10 years, mentions of domestic abuse and shitty relationships (its brief), flashbacks involving Eddie first being in Hawkins so there are mentions of the bruises from his dad :(, um...I think that's it.

Word Count: 4559

You stare into the void of your closet, tuning out your boyfriend as he shouts at you from the bedroom. 

“I don’t understand why you insist on avoiding this question every damn time! I get they are based on people you knew in high school but the way you write them… it feels like you were in love with them!”

Sighing you hang up your dress from that evening and come out in your pajamas. 

“Let it go, Noah. It doesn’t matter. They are kids I used to know. End of story.”

“See, Y/N, it’s not ‘end of story’ because you’re still writing said story!”, he points at the manuscript on your desk. “Why won’t you tell me more?”

“Ugh. I’m done having this argument. I’m going to bed. You can either join me or go home.”

Noah exhales as he places his hands on his hips before sitting on the edge of you bed. “Y/N, baby. I love you so much. I just… You keep this locked up so tight. Should I be worried?”

You softly smile as you sit beside him and kiss his cheek. “Honey, you are the only man in the world for me.”

He smiles as he places a peck on your lips. “I better be. Okay, let me take a shower and then I’ll go to bed with you. Hey, you probably already know this but your favorite band released a new single today. You should listen to it. Tell me if it’s amazing.”

After he shuts the bathroom door, you immediately grab your headphones and search for Corroded Coffins new song. You leaned against your pillow, closing your eyes as Eddie’s voice filled your ears.

#################

You smiled tenderly in their direction, neither one of them making any real move towards you. After making a decision, you take one of Steve’s hands, bringing him to the bed and placing him next to Eddie. Your skirt falls to the floor as you kick it to the side before slowly unbuttoning your blouse and tossing it away as well. 

“I’m, uh, I know I don’t exactly look the same but—”

“Don’t.”, Eddie cuts you off. “Don’t even finish that sentence. You’re still fucking gorgeous.”

“What happened here?” Steve’s fingers gently traced along a scar on your outer thigh. 

“I’m an idiot.”, you laugh. “I went hiking on this remote island off the coast and tripped. They warned us about slick slopes but I’m me so… cut a big gash that bled everywhere.”

“What about this one?” Eddie points to a small but noticeable scratch on your arm. 

“My literary agent and I were coming back from an event and someone hit our car. We were fine but some glass from the window cut me. Here to.” You lift his fingers to graze the much tinier scar on your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger on a circular scar near your ribs. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about that one.”

“Hey. Yeah, I do.”, he gently tugs on you so your more in front of him. “It looks deep.”

“When I got home from traveling, I met this guy…We weren’t together very long but—”

“He hurt you.” Steve’s voice filled with anger.

You hung your head. “He didn’t mean to. We got into a fight and he meant to throw something behind me but hit me instead. After that, I uh, did what I do best….I ran.” When you finally found the courage to look at them again, they both seemed extremely upset. “See, I told you didn’t want to hear about this.”

“No, hey, no.” Eddie pulled you so you were back in front of him. “We do. We just… hate that you experienced that…especially alone.”

“Because we would have beat his ass.”

“That’s for damn sure.” You grin as they both laugh.

The metalhead brushes your hair away from your face before leaning back to lift off his shirt. Your grin stretches further along your face as the pads of your fingers trace all the new tattoos, hovering over the heart you noticed when you saw him play. 

“I got that one after we signed with our first label. If I had known you were going to refer to me as a vampire, I would have gotten some like Dracula teeth or something.”, he chuckled. 

“What did you say when he got it?”, you asked Steve.

“Pfft. I didn’t even know he got it until over a year later. Mr. Sex Appeal here took off his shirt at the first concert I was finally able to make and I won’t lie, it surprised me. I don’t hate it though. Better than this other bullshit.”

“Wow. Rude.”, Eddie teases. He turns his attention back to you and twists his body so you can see the scar on his back. “We were playing at one of those festivals and I was fucking wasted. I jumped into the crowd and those kids fucking dropped me; landed on some glass on the floor. I kept playing though.”

He lifts his hips as he pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. Steve grabs your hand, tugging you out of Eddie’s way and onto his lap. You leaned your head against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You absorbed all the never-before-seen tattoos on his thighs and calves as he points to a scar on his right leg. “About 5 years ago I was dating this girl who was just off the walls. We got into a bad argument in our hotel and she went full Sid and Nancy literally throwing a fucking knife at me! Jeff drove me to the hospital and I needed like ten stitches.”

“How come I didn’t hear about this?”, Steve asked.

“Probably because our manager kept it out of the papers AND paid her off as long as she agreed to stay away from me.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?”

“Sir, you’re a lawyer. I aint tellin’ you shit.” You giggled as Eddie laughed. “No, man. I was just a little embarrassed. Everyone warned me about her but… Plus you were doing so well with what’s her name at the time.”

“Ah, yes. What’s her name.” Steve grins sarcastically as he unbuttons his shirt and points to the long scar leading from the top of his belly button to just below his chest. “Yeah, things were going so well, I needed surgery to remove the ulcers she gave me.”

“Steve, oh my god.” You pushed him back as he balanced on his arms so you could get a better look. 

“You told me you were getting your appendix removed, you asshole!”

“I told you that because you were on tour and I didn’t want you to cut that short to come stay with me in the hospital because I know you would have. It’s fine. The doctor said it was a routine type thing.”

“Did your mom or dad come?” You feel yourself start to panic slightly. 

“Of course not. You know my family.” He chuckles but stops when he sees that look in your eyes. “Hey seriously. It wasn’t a big thing.”

“You were all alone in a hospital having surgery. I…I would have been there. I didn’t know. I…”

“Y/N, honey, it’s okay. I know you would have.”, he kisses your cheek. “That’s why I didn’t tell your parents either.” Steve sighs as he turns to Eddie. “I told Michelle—”

“I’m still calling her what’s her name.”

“AND she said I was being overdramatic. When I came back home, she was gone, thank God. That relationship was the worst. She was basically a 5’4 version of my father. I didn’t realize it till after I got sick.”

He taps your back with his fingers and you take the hint, sliding over to sit on Eddie’s lap as he slides off his slacks and underwear. “Do I have any on my legs?”, he mumbles as he looks. “Oh! That case you guys mentioned last night? I didn’t just add money to the settlement but a couple of weekends I went over there to help them with some other things if they needed it. One family had a roof that was leaking and damaging their ceiling. Me and some of the other people were able to help fix it for a cheap price but my dumbass slipped off the ladder. Thankfully, I just cut my knee.” Steve gestures towards the line along his knee. 

“So, nothing has changed in ten years. We’re all still clumsy and we all pick terrible fucking partners.” You and Steve laugh but Eddie just sits there smiling up at you. 

“I think I made a good choice in choosing you that night.” His arms wrap tighter around your waist as he leans his head onto your chest. “Shit, every time I chose you, good things always followed.” Your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips travelled up your skin to your neck. “I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.” His palm gently rested against your cheek as he guided your lips to his. 

###################

“Class! Settle!”, the teacher claps her hands, trying to be heard. “Now I want you all to welcome our new student here. This is Edward Munson.”

“Freak.” Jason Carver pretends to hide his remark behind a cough as you roll your eyes. The teacher scowls at him as she lightly pushes the new boy towards an empty seat. 

He definitely was different than a lot of the people around here; at least visually. The only contact he made with anyone was glaring at Carver as he passed him to his desk. His hair was buzzed to the point that he was almost bald. The black shirt he wore hung off his frame, seemingly two sizes too big but when he leaned over to put his backpack on the floor his sleeve rose and you noticed the bruises on his arm that looked like fingerprints. 

Your heart broke from him as you connected those bruises to the black eye that was prominent on his face. This boy had been through something awful. 

When lunch came around, you found him sitting alone at a table near the window, his arms folded across his chest defensively. 

“Hi. I’m, uh, Y/N. Is it ok if I join you?” Eddie sighed through his nose as his jaw tightened. You slowly descended into the chair in front of him. “I see you didn’t get any food. You can share some of mine if you want. I never finish it anyway.”

You found yourself getting self-conscious as he continued to glare out the window. “So…how do you like it here—”

“Can’t you people just leave me alone?!” His sharp tone made you jump. 

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me.” You get up and move a couple chairs down, away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches you pull a book out of your bag as you pick at your tray. 

The table shuffles as he stands up and you keep your eyes on the pages in front of you as you hear the screeching of the chair being pulled back across from you. 

“Have…have you read that book before?”, he asks. You glance over at him before placing your novel down on the table. 

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers? No but in class they showed us the black and white movie. It was so cool so I begged my mom to buy me the book.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours for a brief moment before he glares down at the floor. “Have you read it?”

Eddie slowly nods his head. “Have you seen the 70s movie they made? It’s actually pretty scary.”

“There’s another movie!? I didn’t know that. You should come over to my house sometime and we can watch it.” His eyes widen in amusement at your excitement making you panic slightly. “I mean you don’t have to, of course. I just…I think you seem cool and I think it would be fun to hang out with you.”

“You think I seem cool?”

“Yeah, and don’t let people like Jason “douchebag” Carver get you down. Don’t let him make you think otherwise, okay?” For the first time since you saw him, a smile gradually paints his lips and you return it with one of your own. “Do you want some of my pretzels, Edward?”

He leans forward taking the snack that you offer him. “Eddie. I prefer Eddie.”

###############

You revel in the taste of him as his tongue invades your mouth and you gently guide him back against the mattress. His hands abruptly grip your hips when he feels you begin to grind against him. 

“Wait. Wait, wait. Shit. I just… I’ve been wanting to taste you again so fucking bad.”

You smirk as you playful squint at him. “Are you not devouring me right now?”

“Not yet.” Eddie winks before lifting you, spinning you around so your hands and knees were on the bed, your ass displayed before him.

As you searched for the other man, Eddie’s tongue licked a long stripe through your sex causing you to close your eyes as you moaned. A strong hand reached for your face, pulling you to a set of lips that tasted like a mixture of mint and whiskey from the previous night. 

Steve.

You reached for his neck pulling him closer to you as Eddie’s tongue moved in and out of your entrance, whining when you feel him abruptly move away. 

“Shit, Harrington. I’m being selfish. You didn’t get to taste her pussy last time, did you?”

“Not directly. You coated my fingers so I literally only got a taste.”, he chuckles. 

The bed jostles as they switch places and you cry out when you feel a tongue enter your body again. Steve’s technique was much different than Eddie’s. While the metalhead seemed to play with his food, the other man knew exactly what he wanted, hitting every sensitive spot with an aggressive passion that had you seeing stars. 

“F-fuck, Steve. Just like…don’t stop. Ed-Eddie?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He came around towards your end of the bed, stumbling forward as you reached for his cock and wrapped your lips around him. “Jesus! Whoa. Slow down, baby. Mmm-- it’s ok.” Eddie’s hands lifted your hair into a ponytail so he could watch you take him. 

You pulled back, pumping him as your eyes looked up into his. “Don’t—mmm—Don’t want slow. 10 years was—fuck—slow enough.”

He smirked at you. “Did you hear that, Stevie?” The boy didn’t verbally responded but you felt his head shake against you as his lips wrapped around your clit. 

“Show me…show me the men you are now…please. Please, please. Fuck!”

Your body trembled as the coil snapped and you came, your upper half falling flat against the mattress. 

##################

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Steven Harrington.”

You didn’t even glance his way as you continued putting books in your locker. You were supposed to meet Eddie near the front of the school so you two could bike over to the movie theater to see District 9 and you didn’t want to keep your best friend waiting especially for King Steve. 

“I was thinking you and I could go out sometime. Maybe go see a movie or something.”

“Wow. I’m not sure why you would think that. Now fuck off and leave me alone.”

As you shut your locker and start to leave, he loops around you, blocking your path.

“Shit. Look I’m sorry. Believe it or not I’m not very good at this. I just…always see you at lunch with the other kid that makes you laugh and hearing it… I think you’re really beautiful and sweet so I thought I’d shoot my shot, you know?”

As you listened to him speak, you took note of his demeanor and words. What stood out to you most was that he didn’t refer to Eddie as a freak like the other kids did. He seemed so jittery as he bounced on the balls of his feet and as he said that last sentence his eyes shifted nervously to the floor. 

“I’ll, um, leave you alone now. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“Steve?”, you called as he started heading down the hall. “Eddie and I were going to go see a movie tonight. Would you want to tag along?”

“Oh. Um…is it ok with him? I don’t want to impose.”

“Naw, he’ll be fine. He may seem scary on the outside but he’s a sweet person. Plus, for some reason, he trusts my judgement. If I trust you than he will to.”

Steve flashes you a big toothy grin. “Ok. Sounds like fun.”

“And just so we are clear, Harrington! This is not a date. I don’t like you like that, okay?”

################

Steve’s hands roughly grabbed your hips, lifting your ass higher in the air as he guided his cock into your entrance. You both moaned at the feeling before he gradually pulled back until it was just his tip, watching between your bodies as he pushed himself back in. As your eyes rolled back, you clawed at the sheets underneath you, relishing in the feeling of him again. 

He bent over you, placing his chest against your back as his hand came around to grip your jaw. 

Opening your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s face as he kneeled in front of you. 

“Does he feel good?” You nod your head as he moves some hair away from your face. “Tell him, Y/N. I think he’s earned it.”

Steve’s lips kissed your shoulder before he aggressively delivered slow, hard thrusts that pushed him so deep he punched the air from your lungs. 

“Steve! Fuck… feels… amazing.”

He pushed up on to his knees pounding into you as you whimpered, your upper half collapsing flat on the bed, allowing him to take what was his. What was always his and Eddie’s. No matter how many men you had dated or been with, hell even before graduation night, your heart belonged to them.

“Steve, I…fuck… I love you. I love you both.”

His movements stalled as he and the metalhead exchanged a look. The man leaned over you again, his breath warming your ear.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes. I love you so much. I missed you.”

He slowly began pumping into you once more, his hand sliding under your body and reaching to circle your clit. 

“I love you to, honey. Cum for me, Y/N, please. I’ve waited so long to feel you again.”

With your body pushing back against his, the coil snapped and you mewled into the mattress below you. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. Can…can we cum inside you?”

Your arm reached behind you to bring your lips to his. “Please, Steve. I need you to.”

His strong hand held the back of your neck, pressing you into the bed as he chased his high. The sounds of his grunts echoes through the room before his hips sputtered and you felt his spend warm your insides.

#################

“Yes! We are finally free! Ha ha!”, Eddie tosses his graduation cap in the air and away from you three.

“Really, Ed?” Wayne shakes his head as he smiles.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you guys!” Your mom excitedly hugs the three of you. “Steve, sweetie, where’re your parents?”

“Uh, Sweden, I think.”

You wrap your arms around him as he does the same. 

“So…what’s the plan for the night?” Your dad quickly tries to change the subject which the boy appreciates. 

“Well, Mr. Y/L/N, we are going back to my trailer—”

“MY trailer.”, Eddie’s uncle interrupts. 

“And we’re going to sit on the floor, reading the bible and going over college applications.”

You and Steve laugh at the metalhead as your mom rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just stay safe and don’t do anything stupid. Now get together I want to take a picture.”

Wayne obnoxiously forces his nephew’s graduation cap back on his head before stepping out of frame as Eddie wraps one arm around your back as you do the same. As he holds up the rock and roll symbol with his fingers, you and Steve can’t help but laugh as the camera flashes.

###########

Steve collapses on top of you as you both try to catch your breath. Your hand reaches behind you, your fingers running through his sweaty hair as you gently place your lips on his. He rolls off you and as you turn on to your back, you are met with Eddie’s soft but passion filled kisses. 

“You ok, sweetheart? Do you need anything?”, he whispers.

Grinning, you climb onto your knees and wrap your arms around his neck. “I need you.”

He smiles as he kisses you again, his own fingers running through your messy hair.

“Do you want me to show you how rockstars do it?” Eddie playfully sticks out his tongue when you giggle and nod. “Keep your arms around me, ok?”

“Always.”

His smile grew as he hooked his own tattooed arms under both your knees and lifted you into the air. After adjusting you slightly, he moved his hips, thrusting his cock inside of you. Your jaw went slack as your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, never feeling anyone this deep inside of you or at this angle. The muscles in his shoulders and chest tensed as he pumped into you.

“Oh…oh my god, Eddie. Please.”

His eyes scanned your face before your forehead fell against his. “Fuck, Y/N. I missed you so much. Mmm-I love you to, baby. I…I never stopped.”

You gripped your arms around him tighter as you lifted your hips to meet his, your pussy fluttering around him as you watch his eyes roll back and close.

Eddie swivels his body around falling flat with you onto the bed, unhooking your limbs from his neck and lifting your leg over his shoulder, holding it for leverage as he pounded into you. 

You whimpered as his thumb abruptly came down to play with your clit.

“Please…please, please, please, Eddie!”, you begged; your body trembling as you came. 

The metalhead hovered over you, his hair lightly brushing against the sides of your face as his beautiful eyes penetrated yours. Your palms reached up to cup his face as his pace quickened nearing his own release.

“Cum for me, baby. Please. I need you to cum inside of me just like Steve did.”

Just as he had on graduation night, his head fell into the nook between your neck and shoulder, his hips faltering before you felt him thrusting his seed deep into your pussy.

You try and cover the hiss that leaves your lips as Eddie pulls out knowing how he’ll react. 

“Fuck, princess. I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you did I.” He smiles as he watches you laugh. “What?”

“Steve’s right. You’re a big rockstar yet you’re still exactly the same. No, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just sore.”

Steve comes around to the side with a rag in his hand and gently cleans between your legs. “Do you need anything? I’m sure Hugh Heffner here has a pretty awesome shower.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at his friend. “I do actually but I also imagine Elle Woods over there also has an expensive shower so he needs to calm down.”

#################

“Steve. Steve. Jesus fucking Christ, STEVEN!”

Steve rolled over onto his back slowly, trying carefully not to move you too much. “What, Munson? Lower you voice.”

“Y/N’s not here.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” He fully opens his eyes as he reaches for you but to his dismay his friend was right. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in the trailer or outside anywhere but all her stuff is gone.”

The man immediately bounced up from the bed and started reaching for his clothes. “Maybe…maybe she went to go food or something.”

“Without telling us? Or hell even inviting us. That’s not like her.”

“Yeah but neither was last night…”

Eddie grabbed one of his shirts from the floor as he waited for Steve to get dressed. “Did we fuck up?” The other man was silent as he tied his shoes. “Do you regret it?”

He rose to his feet and collected his keys. “No. I mean… she’s our girl, right? I’ve never…cared about anyone the way I do her. She makes me feel—”

“Wanted.”, Eddie finished. “Yeah… I know how you feel. I don’t regret it either.”

Steve pats his back comfortingly. “Come on, dude. Let’s go find her.”

#############

Steve woke up to the sound of thunder crashing against the house.  His head leaned back against the pillow as he listened to the sound of Eddie snoring next to him. A familiar sense of panic washed through him when he reached over and realized you weren’t in the bed with them. 

He hastily tossed back his covers, grabbing his boxers as he flew down the hallway. His hand gripped his chest when he found you in one of Eddie’s band t-shirts, leaning against the backdoor as you watched the rain. 

You smiled when you saw him standing there offering him the cup of coffee in your hand. 

“You phone buzzed a few times. It may be your law firm but they can’t seem to get along without you.”, you giggle until you notice that panicked look in his eyes. “Steve? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I just woke up and—”

“And I wasn’t there. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It started to rain and rockstar has a nice view.”

“You know, you two keep making fun of me and my house but I didn’t hear any complaints.” Eddie saunters into the room, coming up behind you as he wraps his arm around you and rests his chin on your head. 

“Your phone kept going off too, Eds. To be fair, we did sleep all day but damn.”

“No one’s bugging you?”

“No one I care about more than you two right now.” You grin as Steve leans down to kiss your lips before Eddie gently pulls your hair to do the same. “I, um, I don’t actually have a permanent address I’m attached to. Before a book launch, they have me on the road. I was thinking, maybe, I could get an apartment or something near your firm.”

“Why don’t you move in with me? You and Eddie…if you guys want to. I mean I’m sure Munson has like 50 mansions but—”

“I’m not Mick fucking Jagger.”, he laughs. “I have this house and a relatively large house near the beach in California with the guys. All I have to do is pack a bag and my guitar.”

They both look at you with earnest, waiting for your answer.

“Let’s do it.”, you smile. “Geez, when word gets out, I guess people are going to finally figure out who The King and The Vampire are based on. Maybe now they’ll stop asking me who The Runaway is in love with.”

“Who IS she in love with?”, Steve grins snarkily in your direction.

You meet his sarcastic smile with one of your own.

“Both.”

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction #joe keery smut #joseph quinn smut #lawyer!Steve #rockstar eddie munson #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #friends to lovers

[a-libra-writes]

I saw your Lackadaisy headcanons and I couldn't be happier cause this fandom needs more love. Can you do one for Mordecai with a female reader who's love language is acts of services and physical touch. Like, she has almost no sense of personal space (she really doesn't mean to make him uncomfortable) and if absolutely FLUSTERS poor Mordecai especially when he becomes aware of his feelings after a SLOW burn built up. Thank you so much for the awesome work and keep it up ❤️

Ayo so I actually got like 2 other messages about a Pt.2 to the first Mordecai headcanons, so Im adding this onto that! Again for some reason this murdercat got away from me so its a long boy. I attempted to keep it organized ,, , ,

First order of business, Mitzi ships it.

Back when Atlas bought her that nifty camera, she didn't just take embarrassing photos of Mordecai. She got some pretty cute candid shots of you around the bar, and a kinda-blurry-but-not-too-bad photo of you and Mordecai outside the big cafe window, talking to each other and not aware you were being photographed. It's pretty artsy, if she says so herself. She tucks the photos in Mordecai's desk and directly hands you the silly ones she took of him.

Actually, she clocked your feelings early on, but figured he wasn't interested. Didn't seem like the kind of guy, which is a shame. You're a sweetie. She hadn't seen you both act any different for a long time, so maybe that crush fizzled out? But if you ever bring it up with Mitzi, she's your #1 support. She's gonna set you up nice and give you all sorts of tips that just ... fall flat. Jeez, she knew Mordecai was unapproachable, but is it really going to take this long ...?

Viktor also figured your feelings out (albeit later), but that ain't his business. You had odd taste, though. He thinks it's pretty funny when other people flirt with you and Mordecai's suddenly in a foul mood and doesn't understand why. At least you two aren't hanky panky or anything, eugh, and you keep your heads during firefights. Anytime Viktor tries to bring up the topic (which, granted, is like a grand total of three times), he's so round about and non-direct that you have no idea what he's getting at. Oh well.

(If the idea of you two being a couple is brought up with anyone else, they can scarcely believe it. You? With him? Good luck. Only Atlas seems to see it, though his employee's love lives aren't relevant unless it gets in the way of business.)

Actually, if you're a more exuberant and affectionate type, that just makes people question your taste in him even more. The first few interactions didn't go great - you touched him without thinking, like you do most people, and he flinched so hard it's like you hurt him. Second time he hissed. Right, you got the picture. You became more mindful and considerate of his personal space, that plus an apology goes a long way.

Once you both are more familiar and have more trust, you can put a hand on Mordecai's shoulder or back without him reacting much. You can even squeeze his shoulder if you're trying to be reassuring, or silently warning him. Sometimes you just say "Hey, I'm gonna touch you," and you fix his coat or check a bruise. He lets you get away with more than others because you ask first.

(Sometimes he feels bad for it - you'll rush to hug your friends and you're so happy in their embrace, then you bound over to him and clearly restrain yourself as you touch his arm.)

Eventually you ask for hugs - quick ones! Special occassions only! But sometimes you're obviously distressed so he just. Lets it happen, briefly. If this is before admitting any feelings to each other or even himself, it's brief. If this is many years into this weird sort-of-understanding-relationship thing you both have, he'll quietly hold you while you get your emotions out. It's the least he can do, it really is. Mordecai already feels like he isn't deserving of whatever this is, and moreso if you're clearly someone who needs and wants physical attention and comfort.

But he does try, in his way. He'll reach over and take your hand. He gets used to sitting shoulder to shoulder, your tails brushing each other, or letting you lean on him when you're both exhausted. He actually likes it quite a bit when you slightly lean as you read and he does paperwork. It's nice to have that solid warmth, and comfortable quiet.

Mordecai lives in the main building above the cafe, long after he could afford an apartment. More economical and practical, he reasons. If Atlas needs something, he's right there. When you begin inviting him to dinner at your place, very slowly, he starts lingering afterward. Mordecai tries to make it like it's because it's easier to do numbers there - better lighting, your place is quieter, and so on. Nevermind the warm dinner and the nice fire in the fireplace and some low music on the radio and you reading something while his pencil scratches the paper. It ... really brings up some old thoughts and memories.

You've gotten bits and pieces of his family history during these times, usually after you've shared some of his own first. Clearly he doesn't like talking about it. You don't push it. You just listen to what he volunteers, and thank him for listening to you in kind.

Note, he always goes home, no matter how late it is. You feel like it's one of those lines that'll be tough to cross. Hell, just inviting him over was tough at first. He walked into your living space just fine in the day, when he was waiting to pick you up for a job. There'd be some comments on the dust or some examining of your plants, but nothing odd. When he comes by for dinner, he's initially tense until he settles in, and eventually he's quite at ease. Over the years he brought several plants in because he always heard you're supposed to bring flowers for the host, but flowers die quickly, and besides this variety of ivy is different because --

(You end up with a tidy windowsill of houseplants, and start having to put some on your counters. Mordecai gets flustered and suggests maybe you should get rid of some, and you reply you absolutely won't. When he waits for you to get ready, he checks their water and pulls some dead leaves. Might as well, right?)

As expected, kissing and intimate touches will be slow-going. You start simple: a quick good-bye kiss on the cheek when he leaves your apartment in the evening. The first time, Mordecai's hairs stand on end and his tail poofs up but! He assures you it was fine. He's fine. When the bar's empty and he's heading out, you give a quick 'good luck' kiss before hurrying off. You initiate all of them until one day when you'te both walking to the car, covered in (someone else's) blood and debating something silly, and once there's a lull in the conversation he just. Leans over and kisses you. It's only lasts a few seconds, then he just pulls away, fixes his glasses and trips walks to the car.

You're a bit dazed the rest of the drive and he's just a mess of nerves.

After that you can give him kisses now and again, but he gets flustered easily and it’s definitely a private matter. It's only around Viktor that you can touch and fuss over Mordecai, but that only leads to the old man snorting and the two of them starting to argue. Viktor's pretty damn surprised you're both that close, though. How long has it been that way?

Oh, and then there's drunk Mordecai. Oh boy.

This has only happened like, two times, because he does not drink. Period, the end, close curtain. He knows how he gets and he hates it. It doesn't take much of whatever questionable piss whiskey to get him swaying and seeing double. He'll flop on your shoulder and ramble about you're so wonderful and he's really not sure why you like him, also could you stop moving the room, oh and he's killed a man for you, but nevermind that you're such a darling person --

He's so sloshed. The novelty starts to wear off when he's falling over and you're having to get him home because apparently Viktor did it last time. At least Mordecai's a bean pole. If he's drunk in your apartment, thank god, you can just pull him over to your room so he can sleep it off. He's still going on about who-knows-what while you take off his shoes and coat. What's this about murdering who for you? Whatever, he's probably confused. Probably.

(You sleep on the couch and at 7am sharp you're awakened by a loud THUNK and panicked shouting as he still-drunkedly tries to orient himself and figure out where the hell he is. Hes so humiliated by everything he just avoids you for several days.)

Oh, last thing.

Mordecai will kill someone for you. Period. No questions asked. Viktor would too, yes, but after explaining and questioning and he'd go with you and hide the body. Mordecai just does it. Abusive partner, debt collector, a rival gang member tailing you, whoever - they're done for. He doesn't bring it up until you ask questions.

#i apologize for the length he isnt even my favorite i SWEAR #i just have MANY THOUGHTS #mordecai heller x reader #lackadaisy x reader

[cheshirecatuniverse]

Murayama as your best friend

featuring: Sannoh Rengokai! Reader (She/Her)

Honestly, you don't have to match his energy to be compatible. You just have to be just as chaotic as him

You officially meet when Cobra and Yamato make you attend Oya High - long story short you were with Sannoh. When they found out you were a high school dropout, they made it their goal after taking down Kuryu to give you more opportunities. Oya High was close enough from Sannoh in case anything happened.

When Yamato dropped you off, you thought about killing him.

"You're not serious making me do this."

"I mean, Chiharu did it," Yamato smiled, trying to encourage you, "So can you."

"HE GOT JUMPED."

He didn't leave until someone walked out of the front gates of the school. You recognized the blue jacket and the dark blue bandanna under some wild hair from the fights the last couple of years. Just great. Murayama strolled on over, noticing that you were putting away your Sannoh Rengokai leather jacket for an oversized high school uniform button up.

When he said hi to the both of you he only got grunt from you as Yamato shoves your arm with a glare that says 'be nice.'

Murayama only took a look at you before turning to Yamato, "Yeah. She'll probably fit right in."

It took you entering Oya High for Yamato to drive off. As Murayama gave you a brief tour, with Seki and Furuya right behind you guys, someone whistles and laughs.

You let the student leaning out of the classroom window catcall you for a minute before letting yourself have fun.

Murayama looks behind him and then turns to Furuya, "Ah? Where'd she go-"

"C'mon! Let me take you out, baby," the student grinned, looking you up and down.

His hands are poking outside the window. When you walk over, you hold his wrists and flip yourself upside down, "Why don't you hold my hand then?"

As you did a brief handstand, you hear his wrists crack and a high-pitched scream. You coo at his pain with a patronizing pout. Murayama bursts out laughing, and you kinda freeze. Oh man, you probably screwed up. Classes haven't even started yet, Cobra will be pissed-

After Murayama wiped his tears of laughter, he raised up his hand, smiling, "You're going to fit it in."

You were still startled, but you meekly returned the high five. The day went by well after that. You told Naomi that Oya High wasn't actually so bad. (You didn't mention that you broke someone's hands).

You guys get closer pretty quickly. You don't make friends easily but you two connected just like that.

Chips, soda, candy, granola bars? Anything edible in your hand will be bitten or swiped from you.

Whenever he's on the floor you like to stand on his back or stomach before he rapidly flips sides, making you fall on your ass.

He's tried fighting you but you like to dodge his punches and kicks for a good hour until he starts screaming and gives up

You've beaten most of the Oya High guys, including Seki and Furuya. When you win a brawl, Murayama gives you a thumbs up and says he'll treat you to eat.

You start doing his eye taunt gesture.

When you turn around he likes to mimic you, the times you turn around in time you kick him right in the ass.

Likes to call you than text you. Even if you're literally in the next room.

"Hey, what's that name of that one singer you like?"

"I'm on the other side of the wall, Murayama."

You two never enter an arcade without a fully detailed strat in place for maximum opportunities for prizes. Murayama and you revising your strats each time to test out what works better.

He's not much of a gym person, but when you go together you take the most unserious gym pics for insta

Anytime you have an idea you dare him to do it.

"Bet you can't jump off this cliff."

"Murayama I'll give you $10 if you eat 5 bowls of noodles without throwing up."

And he'll just shrug and try to do it unless Furuya or Seki stop him.

He's a great listener, likes to put his legs over your lap so you won't run away when you need to talk about your problems. When he's upset he likes to brood and go off into the nearest corner. You bring him food while continuing to let him brood with his head on your shoulder.

The more comfortable you are with him you hug him pretty often. For backhugs, it's usually to get piggyback rides to wherever you're heading.

You can't leave him for the day without dapping him up.

When Murayama, Seki, and Furuya are fooling around, sometimes you like to go to the rooftop to take a nap or actually study. You befriend Tsukasa there and gives you more insight on the full timers.

Murayama isn't necessarily overprotective when you go out with someone from Oya High but he's not afraid to break someone's limbs for hurting you in any way. He's really oblivious when people try to hit on him so you're the designated wingman. You like to flirt with Todoroki just to annoy the guy, which Murayama has never gotten.

"It's funny, you just don't get it."

"Nah, seeing him lose a match again is funny."

There's a good chance if you ever get feelings for him, he'll reciprocate them. He would be really casual about it because you're his person, it just makes sense.

If you like girls or only girls, you'll definitely have to come out to him because he is oblivious to anything love wise.

"So does that mean you'll marry a woman?"

"Yeah... Yeah it does."

He grinned at you, ruffling your hair, "I better be your best man then."

Big sigh of relief. It almost makes you teary-eyed how cool he thinks you being sapphic is. He's a lesbian protector.

You share the lunch Naomi makes you often. When you tell Naomi Murayama likes her cooking she makes you invite him to the diner. The first time he comes over to Itokan, the Sannoh guys are confused as hell. Did they have a meeting or something they didn't know about? While they're scratching their heads in the back, you introduce Naomi to Murayama. He's really polite because it's Cobra's territory and Naomi is a food angel to him.

Murayama thinks you're insane for always trying to annoy Hyuga just because you think he's fun to fight.

"Listen," He scratches the back of his head, "I don't wanna steal one of his cars. Can we go to the arcade today instead?"

When you tell Murayama about never really getting the full high school experience you guys plan a sleepover with Seki and Furuya. Naomi, being your roommate, casually tells the Sannoh guys about it. They think you're dating Murayama.

Yamato is panicking, Dan is giving his worst assumptions, Cobra is trying to be rational (emphasis on trying), Chiharu realizes you are a woman with desires and feelings like everyone else and has a breakdown, Tettsu knows you've dated many people from Oya but knows Murayama is your friend, Noboru is trying to convince them not to try to beat Murayama up.

At the sleepover, you announce you're going to get something from your room. Sannoh boys enter your condo and hearing all the noise you walk into Yamato holding Murayama by the collar of his shirt. Chiharu wrestling Furuya and Dan and Tettsu pinning Seki to the ground.

It's been a bad week so you burst out crying and EVERYONE freaks out because you don't cry.

"I just.. I just wanted to be normal for once," you wailed, wiping the tears from your face.

Yamato feels so bad he lets you paint his nails and makes the rest of the guys do the same. He's asking if you're feeling any better every five minutes. Cobra goes out and buys a bunch of junk food as an apology.

Murayama got punched by Yamato, so you give him an ice pack for his cheek. Every time you grumble about it, he makes sure to punch himself without wincing. "It's barely a scratch."

#high&low the worst x #high&low #murayama #high and low murayama #murayama yoshiki #murayama x reader #high & low #high & low x reader #oya high #sannoh rengokai #high and low #high & low the worst x

[jerzwriter]

A Moment in Time... (Trystan's POV)

Part one of this short series was written a couple months ago when we didn't know the ending of Crimes of Passion 2. Now that we do, I retrofit the initial part, just a little, to make this an alternate ending AU. What if Trystan had become king? Because in this world, he did. It's now two years later, and he's about to be wed. The whole world, including Carolina, can't escape the coverage, and he can't escape the regret he has over the choices he made.

Part One: Carolina's POV can be found here.

Now, let's explore Trystan's thoughts as he approaches the big day.

Book: Crimes of Passion 2 (Post Series) Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose), Past Rating: Teen Category: AU/Angst Words: 3,280 Summary: Please see above. A/N: This was initially going to be an open-ended, two-part story. But I've changed it so we will have a conclusion. So, Part 3 will be forthcoming. Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, Day 4, They've been secretly in love with each other for a long time.

I hope you enjoy the story!

Please note: If you read the original story in the past, Part 1 has been changed very slightly to accommodate for things that took place in canon. I hope you enjoy this!

The silence weighed heavily in Trystan’s room. So much that the gentle tap on his door sounded like a thunderclap as it reverberated off the cavernous walls.

“Come in,” he called out, never turning to meet the servant’s gaze.

He was trying to concentrate on the crowd assembling beyond the palace gates; they seemed to double in size by the hour. Boisterous and draped in the colors of the Drakovian flag, the festival-like atmosphere was a vivid contrast to the mood inside Trystan’s chambers.

The clattering of the fine china teacups landing on his marble table echoed through the room. Marguerite smiled politely, acknowledging the servant with a gentle nod before they took their leave. She raised the cup to her lips, hoping the fragrant mix of spices would provide some comfort; then, maybe, she would be able to give her brother the comfort he desperately needed. But one look at his forlorn expression, and she was already hanging her head in defeat. Comfort was a tall order; at most, she hoped she could help him through.

Joining him at the window, she rested her head on his shoulder just as she had when they were kids when watching a celebrating crowd was an enjoyable event. Lowering her arm, she clasped his hand in hers. For there wasn't an ounce of joy present today.

“Well, the public is certainly in support,” she observed.

“Yes. The world is so eager for a fairytale that they’ll accept any farce. Yet, heaven forbid they should see the real thing.”

“How do you think it feels to be a normal person? You know, people who don’t approach their wedding as if it were a death sentence?”

“I don’t know, Mags,” he replied sadly. “I’ve only had a brief taste of normal, and it was only borrowed time.”

The rehearsal was over, and the cocktail receptions for dignitaries who had arrived from every corner of the globe were now behind him. All that was left to do was get dressed and show up at the cathedral tomorrow. The only silver lining right now was that his mother and betrothed were far too busy to have any time for or interest in him; if only every day could be this way. He intended to spend it alone, but he should have known Marguerite wouldn’t allow it, and as she led him to the tea table in the corner of his room, he almost broke a smile.

“I had them make badambura,” she smiled. “I remember you loved them when I was a child.”

“When we were children,” he corrected, biting into the flaky almond treat. “A simpler time, when the world’s ails could be soothed with a pastry.”

 “That’s only because we didn’t know better,” she declared. “How are you holding up, brother?”

“I’m doing what is necessary. That's what I was born for, isn't it?”

Marguerite placed her cup on the table and crossed her arms defiantly. “Save that answer for the rest of the family. I’m worried about you, Trystan. Even as a child, I found the... arrangement... our parents had to be... peculiar, but looking at it from this angle, I can see our father probably needed it just to survive. But you don’t have that; you’re doing this alone, and it can’t be easy.”

Trystan placed his hand lovingly atop his sisters and offered a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, Mags. I’ll manage.”

Manage. That’s the most he had been able to do since that day. He managed. He lived up to his duties and gave performances worthy of an Oscar. Most seemed to believe it, or had little concern for it’s sincerity, for it was his role that mattered to them, never the man. But Mags was different, and as Trystan fell silent, she knew exactly where his mind had traveled.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. His heart had yet to accept the fate that his mind knew was inevitable. He spoke with his father... begged his father... to see if he could alter the rules to allow him to marry Carolina. While Trystan didn’t have much hope if he was going to survive this day, he had to push those thoughts aside, and what better distraction than the beautiful woman at his side.  

“Could you hand me those cufflinks?” he asked.

Carolina lifted them and watched as the Drakovian royal seal embellished on them glimmered in the light before she helped fit them into his cuffs.

“Have I mentioned how handsome you look?” She smiled. “I wasn’t the kind of girl to daydream about fairytales often, but I still managed to have one or two. And I swear the handsome prince looked just like you.”

“Like me,” he feigned astonishment. “Perhaps you should have aimed a bit higher.”

Taking her hands, he pulled her in tight, savoring her touch, filling his senses with the jasmine scent of her perfume. This was all he needed, a life full of tender moments like this with his love at his side. Should that be too much to ask?

“Thank you,” he whispered, sorrow creeping into his voice.

“Happy to be of service to the King of Drakovia,” she grinned.

“I’m not a king yet.”

“Trystan... let me fantasize a little, would you? I don’t get to play handmaid to royalty often.”

“After everything you’ve seen in this palace, how can the thought of royalty still entice you?”

She ran her hands down the front of his dress uniform, leaning into his touch.

“Because I happen to like this royal.”

“And I thank my lucky stars for that every day.” Kissing the top of her head, he allowed the moment to linger, but the ticking clock reminded him that it was growing short. Clearing his throat, he looked at her earnestly. “I know you and the others booked your flights home. But... we haven’t heard from my father yet. Perhaps you could stay until an answer is reached.”

“Trystan,” she started, “you know luck probably isn’t on our side this time. If the rules could have been changed, your father would have changed them for him and Eveline...”

“They were different times,” he interrupted. “And my father isn’t me. And even... even if things can’t be changed... all I ask is that we remain together. Partners. Lovers. Whatever you want to call us... I just can’t lose you, Carolina.”

“That wouldn’t be much of a life,” Carolina responded, diverting her eyes. “You’ll be required to marry and have children, and I wouldn’t be able to be more than a consort to you, and I don’t know if that’s enough for me, Trystan.”

“I would never let that happen to you.” His voice was commanding, but they both knew the decision wasn’t his. Taking her face in his hands, he committed every curve to memory. Then, a muffled roar drew their attention toward the windows.

“Mother will be pleased,” he spoke bitterly. “After all the chaos of the past few weeks, she was afraid people would be sick of us. She underestimated how loyal... and how proud... her own people are.”

Carolina wrapped her arm around Trystan’s waist. “They’re so lucky to have you.”

“I’m not sure,” he faltered. “Vasili wasn’t wrong about me. It doesn’t excuse what he did, but I never wanted to be king. I never took the idea seriously.”

“You were practically a child then, Trystan. You’ve grown so much.”

“But is it enough? I don’t know that I love Drakovia the way a King should. Sometimes, I believe that...”

A rap on the door interrupted them, and Lydea entered, nodding politely. “It’s time, Trystan.”

“Of course. Duty calls.” He turned to Carolina. “Please tell me you’ll be at the coronation. I need you to get through this day.”

“And if you need me, that is exactly where I will be,” she smiled.

Lydea remained in the room as Trystan exited, and something that appeared to be sincere sympathy was present in her eyes. 

“I don’t want to trouble my brother before the coronation, but I should let you know. My father has returned from his conference with the Council.”

“And you know their answer?” Carolina asked gravely.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to say. But I thought you should know.”

The women exchanged a look that spoke louder than words, and Carolina smiled bravely as she swallowed back tears. “Very well. Now, you need to get Trystan to the cathedral.”

Trystan didn’t realize how long he was silent or how long Marguerite sat patiently, waiting for him to return to her. When their eyes met, a moment of truth passed between them. Marguerite’s face was riddled with fear and pain, but she had put the moment off many times, and she couldn’t allow it to pass again.

“Have you ever spoken to her, Trystan? Did you ever speak with Carolina after she left?”

Trystan’s eyes widened. Though her name was etched in his mind, no one had dared to mutter it to him in years gone by. Carolina’s memory was treated like a page in the book of his life. A page that was torn out, crumbled, and discarded as if she meant nothing at all. No one understood that as he handed them the pen to script the remainder of his story, she would still occupy every page. No matter how hard others tried to write upon them, they could never take her away. His life was no longer his own, but no one understood; he surrendered so much of himself, but he would never cede control of his heart. No one understood... except for his beloved little sister.

“Once,” he spoke so low she almost didn’t hear. “I’ve heard her voice exactly once since the day she left. I reached out to see if we could remain friends because the thought of her being completely absent from my life felt unbearable to me... it still does.”

“And...” she asked anxiously.

“She said she’d call if she ever fell out of love with me because, unless she did, being just friends would be too painful." With a mournful sigh, he lowered his face into his hands. “And I’ve spent every day since knowing my greatest wish and worst nightmare are one and the same. Every time my phone rings, I pray her name will appear, every time. But, now I know, if that day should come, it will mean she no longer loves me.”

“Oh, my dear brother. Then I’m afraid you will never get that call.”

“I know,” he smiled sadly, eyes flooded with tears. “I know... and Carolina will remain no more than my most precious memory.”

“Trystan, I have to ask... I know the Council refused to overturn the rules... but you’re the king... you could have issued a decree at any time and changed everything. You could be preparing to marry Carolina tomorrow and not...”

“NO!” he answered defiantly. “No. Why should I change the rules, Mags? So she could tell me no matter how much she loves me, but she can’t live this life? Or for her to accept and give up everything she loves except for me. Then she could come here and serve as queen, and I could slowly watch everything that I love about her, everything that makes her the extraordinary woman she is, slowly die before my eyes. Would that be better?”

Mags reached for his hand, but he walked to the window with an exasperated sigh. Pulling back the curtains, he took in the adoring crowds, all waiting for him and Jia to complete their elaborate farce. He accepted his fate, but it still felt surreal.

“Leaving things as they are, I can tell myself we had no choice. That fate was cruel, and we remain a story of true lovers ripped apart by fools who could never understand what we shared. But if I changed the rules... then I’d have to accept that we chose not to be together, and Mags, I can’t live with that.”

He waited patiently. Waited for her words of comfort or perhaps a loving touch, but Trystan underestimated his youngest sister.

“You already do!” She spat; her words felt like a dagger. “You had a choice, Trystan. Albeit, a difficult one, but a choice nevertheless... and you chose the crown. I’m not even faulting you; I would never want to be in the position you found yourself in, but the truth is... you had a choice.”

Trystan turned to her with fire in his eyes, and Marguerite prepared herself – for his rage or her need to offer consolation – but she didn’t expect what followed.

“Then I chose wrong,” he muttered. “I made the worst mistake of my life. A king should love his country above all. He should view any sacrifice he is forced to make on its behalf as an honor. I love Drakovia, Marguerite... but I love Carolina so much more. If I had to sacrifice one... it should never have been her.”

A slow smile spread on Marguerite’s face as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “From where I’m standing, big brother, you’re not dead yet... so there is time to fix this.”

“Mags,” he snorted. “Look out the window. I’m to be married tomorrow. If I tried to leave this palace today, Mother would have me dragged back by rabid dogs.”

“Then don’t tell her. Come on, Trystan, you’re smarter than that. I know walking away will be terribly hard, but what’s the alternative? You already said if you have to sacrifice something, it shouldn’t be Carolina. And, Trystan, you shouldn’t sacrifice yourself, either.”

He nervously glanced around the room, his breathing quickening. It's an electrifying moment when a person realizes that they crafted their own cage, for it's the same moment that they understand that they also hold the key. Freedom, sweet, precious freedom and all the promises it offers is now within reach, and the feeling is as intoxicating as it is horrifying.

“I can’t take the family’s plane...,” he stuttered, “and the airports... I would never be able to board a flight...”

Marguerite was already on it. “No, but fortunately, your lovely sister has many friends with private jets. Some of them even owe me favors.”

“And they’d be willing to take on the Queen’s wrath?”

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “You think some American multi-millionaire cares about Queen Viktoria? Are you kidding? They’d much rather play a pivotal role in one of the greatest love stories of all times.”

Trystan stood before her astonished, as realization washed over him; he wanted to run but found himself paralyzed.

“Come on!” Mags clapped her hands, snapping him out of his fugue. “I’ll make the arrangements, but you need to get dressed!”

She stopped what she was doing for a brief moment; she had to take her brother in. She knew she’d never want to forget the smile that crossed on his face. Trystan Thorne was almost free.  

~~~~

It wasn’t until he was safely aboard the luxurious private jet that a horrifying thought crossed Trytan’s mind. What if Carolina didn’t want him? What if the two years apart taught her she was better off without him? What if she couldn’t forgive him for not putting her first?

“Bloody hell,” he muttered aloud in the empty cabin.

Being a runaway groom who turned his back on his country for the woman he loved seemed a romantic notion.... unless she decided she didn’t want him in return. Then, he’d just be a fool. But even if Carolina didn’t want him, his choices from this day on were his own. For the remainder of the flight, he chose to remember the beautiful memories he shared with that snarky detective in New York. And the more he thought of them, the more he felt at ease. She had to still love him, too. She never called him like she said, so she had to. Right? He closed his eyes and tried to rest. There was a long flight ahead, and he’d have his answer soon.

~~~~~ 

It was just after midnight on the day he was supposed to be wed when his plane touched ground at Teterboro Airport. By now, the palace must have known he was missing. Then again, he was of such trivial importance his absence might go unnoticed until he was expected to wake. At Marguerite’s suggestion, he turned off his phone. He’d have to deal with the mess his leaving created, but right now, all that mattered was seeing Carolina. The thirty minute cab ride to the Drunk Tank felt like an eternity, but when he saw the soft light emitting from it's windows, it felt as if he were arriving home. The fear and dread that had consumed him was replaced with a a warmth he had long forgotten.

“Is this the place?” his taxi driver asked. “Looks like it’s already closed.”

“Yes,” Trystan replied, offering several bills to the driver as a tip. “This is the place... thank you.”

“Hey, wait a second,” the driver nodded. “I know you! Aren’t you the king of that little country no one knows about? The one who solved the Hand of Mahra case, right?”

“Yeah,” Trystan grinned, pulling several larger bills from his pocket. “And if you wouldn’t mind not sharing that information with the rest of the world for at least a day or two, I’d truly appreciate it.”

“Hey," the driver laughed heartily. "Keep these coming my way. I’ll forget I saw you myself!”

Trystan leaped out of the car and stared into the pane-glass windows. A plethora of happy memories from another time flooded his mind. He stretched his neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of Carolina, but it was someone else who met his eyes.

“Trystan?” Tommy opened the door with a raised brow. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” the wayward monarch smiled, stepping inside, "It's me."

Tommy locked the door behind them, bewilderment visible in his eyes. “Aren’t you... supposed to be getting married today?”

“Yes, something like that... I can explain later, but I need to see Carolina immediately. Is she here.”

Uncle Tommy took a step toward the stairs leading to Carolina's apartment, confusion replaced with a protective glare as he crossed his arms.

“Now look, Trystan,” he started. “I always liked you. I really did. But my niece has been through hell and back since you split. And I’m not about to allow her to be hurt again.”

“I understand,” Trystan replied pleadingly, “and I hope you'll understand that's not why I'm here. Hurting Carolina is the very last thing I want to do. I'm here to make things right. But it’s around seven in the morning in Drakovia.  If they haven’t already, someone will find my bed empty soon... just hours before my wedding was to begin. I’m not here on a whim. I’m not here to cause pain. I’m hoping I can end the pain for me... and Carolina. If she’ll have me, I will make her the center of my world for the rest of time. Giving up a kingdom is nothing compared to giving up our love. I swear to you, Tommy, on all that is sacred... I’ll never hurt her again.”

Tommy looked Trystan over, then reluctantly stepped aside. “You know where her room is. But Trystan, pull anything funny, and so help me, Jesus...”

“Tommy, you have my word.”

He didn’t remember rushing up the stairs or the way he took two steps at a time to get there. He didn’t look around when he reached the landing and had no recollection of walking down the hall. His feet delivered him to the space in front of Carolina’s door as if they had been programmed to, and in a way, they had. He had walked this hall before, then dreamed of it every day from the moment she said goodbye.  

His palms were sweaty, and his blood felt as if it had gone cold. His heart raced so fast he was certain it would burst out of his chest. But with sheer determination, he raised his hand to knock on the door, and it swung open much sooner than expected...

“Wow, that was fast!” Carolina. That voice. He'd know that voice anywhere, and when his eyes met her, his shoulders went limp. He was home. At long last, he was home. He hoped the look of astonishment in her eyes would turn to one of joy, but before he could say a word, she gasped.

“It’s... it’s you.”

~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Tagging others in reblog.

#choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #crimes of passion fanfic #tyrstan thorne #trystan thorne x f!mc #trystan thorne x mc #playchoices #choices the stories you play #choices fic writers creations

[karingu]

giving proper thought to the timeskip in inuyasha (part 2/2)

In Part 1, I wrote about what Kagome must've gone through during the three years she and Inuyasha were apart, and why it might've had to take three years for the Well to open up for Kagome.

I emphasized a lot in Part 1 and emphasize again, three years is a loooong time that the story just sorta breezed through... so I wanna slow it down. How were things going for Inuyasha? In this part, I want to give attention to his actions and specifically the things he says (comparing English/Japanese) after the timeskip, which showed me how much his ability to love Kagome had evolved.

part 1: kagome part 2: inuyasha

+

First, to get this out of the way, I'm really touched that his feelings for Kagome never wavered. Maybe it's sort of "obvious," but it was still such a pleasant thing to see how much she's on his mind, even when she's not there.

Thanks to Shippo being an endearing lil' shit, the most important thing we learn is how Inuyasha goes into the well every three days. Even Kaede is like "wow, this guy" (and feels really sorry for him bc she suspects Kagome cannot come back).

You know how they say (in the US) you can deduce a lot about a person based on what they do with the shopping cart? It's like one of those things.

Basically, how do you act when (you think) no one is watching?

Anyways, you can tell Kagome's absence is really hard on him.

In the timeskip panels/brief scenes in the Sengoku era, I noticed that Inuyasha seems a bit down. He's not depressed, but his voice/face is just not as energetic, sort of low mood-ish. His body is here but his mind is somewhere else. He has a couple panels/frames where he's just looking at the sky.

But what he said to Kaede really stood out to me.

When he found Kagome's family weeping for her when he saw her home, in the official Eng translation he says: "I realized I wasn't the only one who treasured her." In the Japanese anime/manga, the nuance is closer to "I realized it's not just me who thinks Kagome is precious," or "It's not just me who holds Kagome dearly." (Those are my own translations)

(One thing to note, the English manga said he says, "It was meant to be," but he doesn't say that in Japanese.)

This is SO!!! special for me to hear/read because it shows me Inuyasha has acquired the healthiest form of the "love" skill.

Congratulations, young grasshopper.

No matter how much he loves Kagome, Kagome is also just as loved by her family. By recognizing that and acknowledging his place, he shows that he loves Kagome for all that she is, beyond the scope of just their relationship with each other. He is acknowledging that Kagome has a life without him, and to love her means to accept it, even if it comes at a cost detrimental to him.

To love someone is to let them go.

This is a stark contrast to the beginning, where he's literally throwing trees, boulders and tantrums over Kagome going home. This time, he had no choice, but he is calm and resigned since the start.

So, he goes about his days. That's all he can do. He has this awesome sword that can literally cut a portal to the Netherworld, yet no power to go to the other side of the well, where he wants to be. All he can do is hope that one day, Kagome will come for him, just like how he came for her all those times before.

Trust in tomorrow. (“Tomorrow” or 「明日」 is the name of the chapter/episode.)

He appears semi-resigned to his fate, but it is implied he never lost that hope. One, because he always goes to the well. And two, his nose is always looking out for her scent. When she does return, the second his nose twitches by the scent of her, he drops EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, B*TCH, KAGOME IS BACK, MAKES A BEELINE TO THE WELL, and oh man, when I saw this page, I almost gasped at his face, which I don't think the anime did justice:

Eyes are the window to the soul, people. And iono. Those eyes said LOVE to me in a way no words can. TAKAHASHI KNEW THIS PAGE WAS IMPORTANT. He is practically kissing her with those damn eyes.

What he said after this is also pretty sweet. In the English manga he says to her: "You fool… what took you so long?" I think that’s a clever interpretation, bc it implies he’s trying to play off how long he waited, which is on brand lol. He might've had doubts that she could come back, but he's pretending he didn't doubt (bc he's a Cool Guy).

I have a soft spot for what he said in Japanese in anime/manga tho:

「バカ野郎…今までなにしてたんだ。」 -> "You fool... what've you been doing 'til now?"

HAHA. (Um, finishing her education, you dumdum.)

Even after three years, he's not saying "I thought you'd never come back," or something along those lines. He just sort of ~whines~ in his gruff manly man way.

The nuance comes across to me like, "What have you been doooingg, Kagome?? :(( I missed you."

Aw shucks just get a room you two.

(And then they did. And then they had Moroha eeeeeee!!!)

-> To read my Part 1 about Kagome, click here!

#now... i rest #dreamy sigh #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha x kagome #kagome x inuyasha #inuyasha anime #inuyasha manga #my:posts #my:inumeta

[jedi-hawkins]

Bad Batch ~ Bryn-ayla Del Caro

A/N: Welcome all! Here's an introductory chapter to my Jedi OC, Bryn. I've been weaving her into the Star Wars Saga over the last year, Please give her some love! If anyone has ideas or constructive criticism, all is welcome. May the Force be with you!

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: canon descriptions of violence. Mentions of death, injuries and brief mention of suicide.

Next Chapter

The year is 21BBY, and the Clone War has been raging for just over a year. Jedi Master Bryn-Ayla Del Caro has come to Kamino to meet her new trooper squad, Clone Force 99. How will she mesh with this new batch of soldiers?

Footsteps softly echo off the pristine white floors of the Tipoca City Cloning Facility as two Jedi and a Kaminoan calmly walk through the hallways.

"The clone production is getting more and more efficient with each batch." The Kaminoan, Nala Se, says, gently waving her hand at a window that overlooks towers of embryos floating peacefully in bacta tanks.

Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro simply nods. "It is clear that your cloning facilities are impressive, and the soldiers you train are outstanding fighters. But with all due respect, I came all this way to meet my new squad, not for a tour."

"Yes, Clone Force 99." The other Jedi, Master Shakk Ti adds. "Our experimental batch. They are just getting ready to run the Citadel simulation for your assessment. Right this way."

She gestures to a nearby door and leads the way through a few more turning hallways until Bryn finds herself on a balcony overlooking the impressive Kaminoan training facility.

Nala Se takes her place at the direction console for the facility. "It will be just a moment." 

Bryn turns to her comrade. "So, what more can you tell me about Squad 99?"

The togruta smiles. "As I said when we first talked, they're an interesting bunch. Each had their DNA modified to emphasize traits that may be desired in soldiers. Enhanced intelligence, superior eyesight and reflexes-"

"Amplified strength?" Bryn adds as the platform rises into the arena with four clones on it, one significantly bigger than his brothers.

"Now you're getting the idea." Shaak Ti responds. She looks over to Nala Se, "Are we ready to begin?"

The Kaminoan nods, turning to one of her assistants "Lets go with variation 473, and tap into their comms channel." she says.

The assistant nods, tapping a few buttons on the control console. The droids  in the arena below come to life, raising their weapons as an automated voice begins a countdown.

On the platform below, the four clones are talking to each other.

"We've done hundreds of these, boys. We've got this in the bag." Their Sergeant says absentmindedly, his eyes trained on the new face on the viewing platform above.

The large one smirks under his helmet. "A simulation? Why don't they give us a real challenge?"

The group fans out, immediately settling into their places behind the crates set throughout the arena.

'Three... Two... One...'

The droids begin their assault. After assessing the situation, the sergeant turns to the man beside him. "Crosshair, towers."

The clone carrying a firepuncher rifle, Crosshair, gives a curt nod and creeps around the perimeter to begin scaling one of the towers firing down upon the squad. He makes quick work of them and begins picking off droids down below as his brothers begin their advance.

After a couple more moments, Bryn can hear who she assumes is the big one grumble to his comrade with a helmet modified to fit a pair of goggles. "Augh, this is boring."

Sensing what he's about to do, his brother shouts, "Wrecker, no!"

Completely ignoring him, Wrecker launches himself over the barrier they were sheltering behind, kicking a droid out of his way and immediately bringing his hands down on another. Shaking his head, the brother follows Wrecker's path while the sergeant pulls up the rear.

Mad laughter can be heard through the comms channel and Bryn smiles. "He seems to enjoy this. They have interesting tactics, Master Ti."

She nods and turns to the Kaminoan assistant. "Switch to variation 291." They turn their attention back to the arena as the assistant changes the simulation.

New armored battle droids rise from the floor, eliciting another laugh from Wrecker. The armored droids begin firing as more waves of battle droids close in, causing the three clones on the ground to retreat behind barriers.

Crosshair fires a couple shots onto the armored droids, but it simply calls their attention to him. They fire up to the tower where he's perched, causing him to retreat down to the ground where the sergeant is. His cool voice finally comes over the comms. "This is going well."

The clone with goggles looks over at Wrecker and remarks. "They must have changed the simulation parameters. It seems our original assault may not be sufficient."

"You think?" Wrecker grumbles back.

"Might I suggest Plan 23, Hunter?" Goggles says, looking at his Sergeant.

"Good thinking, Tech. That sound alright boys?" Hunter replies

They all give a nod and move to new positions, restarting their fire on the droids. One of the droids manages to hit Hunter's blaster, knocking it out of his hand. To Bryn's interest, he simply pulls a pair of vibro-knifes from his armor and continues with hand-to-hand attacks on the droids. "You let us know when you're ready, Crosshair." He says.

A couple more movements of fire between the clones and the droids pass and suddenly Crosshair calls over the comms, "Now!"

He and his three brothers each toss a small shiny disc in the air, and Crosshair fires a single shot, it ricochets off droid heads and the discs taking out every last droid in the arena.

The clones all emerge from cover and look up to the balcony where their spectators stand. "Nice job, boys." Hunter remarks.

Shaak Ti simply gives a nod to the clones below. "Come, Master Caro. Time to meet them in person." She says, beckoning the other master to follow her.

Back on the training floor, Wrecker turns to his brothers. "Who d'you suppose was up there with Shaak Ti?"

"Probably our new General." Tech replies, pulling a data pad from his belt.

"Tch." A single noise, dripping in distain from Crosshair.

Before the squad can say anything else, the door to the arena opens and Shaak Ti enters, leading what is definitely another Jedi behind her.

"Clone Force 99, may I introduce you to your new General, Jedi Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro." Shaak Ti says, waving a hand to the Jedi beside her.

The squad takes their helmets off, and a clone with a mess of long dark hair tied back by a red bandana steps forward. "General, I'm Sergeant Hunter, and these are my men." He points to the clone with goggles that's holding the data pad. "This is Tech, he's our smart one."

Then he points to the clone that towers over his brothers. His left eyes is clouded over and it's clear he's taken an explosion to that side of his head. "This is Wrecker. And finally-"

"Crosshair." Bryn finishes, looking at the tall and lithe clone with the rifle.

The squad looks at her in surprise.

"Woah, was that some kind of Jedi trick?" Wrecker asks with a grin on his face.

Bryn laughs, "Far from it. We were tapped into your comms. Your tactics are quite impressive. I'm looking forward to seeing more of your work."

Hunter glances to his squad. "With all due respect, we are a little confused as to why we are being assigned to you, sir. Don't Jedi normally command entire legions, or armies even?"

Bryn gives the remark some thought before replying. "Come, let's get something to eat and I'll answer all your questions."

"Please allow me to escort you." Shaak Ti says, but Bryn holds up a hand in protest.

"Thank you, Master Ti," she says "but I believe my squad can show me the way. We'll be fine"

The togruta considers the suggestion, eventually nodding. "Alright, please come see me in my office before you depart."

Bryn nods and Shaak Ti exits the arena. She then turns to the clone squad, "You are hungry, right?"

Hunter clears his throat. "Ah, yeah, yes sir. Come on boys, let's show the General to the mess."

Hunter falls into stride with Bryn, as his three brothers follow behind.

"So, who exactly are you?" Crosshair croons.

"Crosshair-" Hunter warns.

"No, it's okay." Bryn says. "I am Jedi Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro. I was born on Takodanna in the western mid-rim, brought to Coruscant when I was four to begin my Jedi training. I was padawan to Jedi Master Plo Kloon. I work closely with Master Obi-wan Kenobi and the 212th Legion as well as Knight Anakin Skywalker and the 501st. I'm sure they don't need introductions."

Bryn pauses, but the brothers are hanging on to her every word. "Depending on what files you have pulled up on that data pad there, Tech, you may see that yes, I did command a Legion for the Republic." Again, she pauses. The name of her fallen men catches in her throat. "The 43rd."

Tech adjust his goggles, quickly typing in a few things on his data pad. "Everything I have here confirms what you said, though there is one discrepancy. It says here that the 43rd Legion was wiped out entirely during the Battle on Jabiim early in the War."

Bryn's face falls. "There were two survivors from the 43rd."

"So you just left your men behind to be slaughtered?" Crosshair sneers.

Bryn's face hardens and she stops to look him dead on. "Why don't you hear me out before throwing accusations around? The front on Jabiim hadn't changed in nearly six weeks. The Republic decided to switch tactics. They divided the 43rd into its battalions and sent them to simultaneously attack Separatist strongholds to retake the planet. I was forced to stay with my point battalion at Shelter Base to coordinate our efforts and hold our only point of occupation."

Her words seem strong, angry maybe, but Hunter can sense she's terrified. He can hear her heart pounding in her chest as she continues. "Separatist Commander Alto Stratus had all our intel. He was able to maneuver through our defenses and launch a frontal assault on Shelter Base. I was at point, trying to buy enough time for everyone to get inside. I lost one hundred and twenty-seven of my men in that first attack. Good men. We had just enough time to triage the wounded before the second wave hit. I couldn't tell you how many assaults there were after that. The Seppies were armed far beyond what we expected. It was almost like they were toying with us as they divided that battalion and picked us off."

Bryn pauses, some screams of falling troopers echo through her skull. "It was all a blur. There must have been a break because the last I remember was my Commander dragging me out into the woods. Apparently it was four days before a rescue ship made it out to our location, I don't know how Steeler kept us alive. The next I knew I was waking up on Coruscant after spending a week in a Bacta Tank."

She takes a moment to steady her breathing and Tech's data pad let's out a couple beeps.

"Ah, yes." He says. "Here's the treatment report. Concussion, facial fractures, four cracked ribs, multiple lacerations and blaster wounds that needed surgical repair, shattered kneecap, bruising to the kidney, liver and spleen from blunt force trauma, and post-surgical intracranial bleeding." Tech lists off.

Bryn swallows. "I should have died. It took me three days to wake up after they fished me out of the bacta. Medics were unsure whether I was going to wake up at all. That's when I learned the fate of my Legion. The battalion at Shelter Base wasn't the only one that was compromised, all of them were. The other Jedi commanders and my three younger brothers were among the those killed in battle. The loss of Jabiim was a grave Republic defeat. Some men were lucky enough to survive the blood bath and made it to the med stations, but most soon died to their injuries. For the ones who left the medbays, it was only a couple of weeks before they chose to join their brothers. Commander Steeler and I are the only survivors."

The squad is silent for a moment as they soak in her story.

"Kriff." Hunter mutters. "I knew Jabiim was bad, but I didn't know how bad."

Wrecker's jaw is hanging open. "Well, what happened to you then?" He prods.

Bryn sighs, "Commander Steeler was absorbed into the 212th under General Kenobi. I've been helping both the 212th and 501st as well as doing some Ambassador work, but the Council and the Chancellor think it's time for a change. They wanted to move me to command the fourteenth sector army, but I refused the position." She trails off.

"You turned down the command of an entire army. How noble. Or was it fear?" Crosshair jeers again.

Bryn's face darkens. "No. I didn't agree with the Republic's decision to split my legion. It was early in the war and a lot of our troopers were still shiny, the command included. I wanted to take my lead squad to see what we were dealing with before attacking, but I was overruled. The Republic felt our numbers were strong enough for the siege to succeed with full frontal attacks. I should have gone against orders and taken the squad anyway. I knew it was the right choice even though the Republic thought otherwise. It's not the first time I've disagreed with Command, it probably won't be the last."

Hunter waves a hand down the hallway, beginning to lead the group again. "Then you may understand our-" He chooses his next words wisely. "-reservations about the Republic's decision to send you to supervise us."

Bryn stops and places a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder plate, "I'm not here to supervise you. I requested this squad. I see a chance for us to do for others what I couldn't do for the 43rd."

Wrecker cocks his head to one side. "You want to be here with us?"

"Your files were very promising. This elite clone force will be able to tackle the missions entire Legions can't figure out. We can save lives and hopefully bring this war to a swifter end." Bryn responds.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "A Jedi wanting to save innocent civilians, how novel." He mutters under his breath.

"Not just civvies. Clones." Bryn says sternly. "The majority of the Republic leaders have yet to realize that throwing bodies at a problem rarely ever works. I'm looking to change that."

She turns and continues walking. "So, Sergeant, I know the skills of your brothers. What about you? With a name like Hunter, I might guess extreme patience. While that may be true, I sense there's more to you than that."

She chuckles at her own joke, which actually brings a smile to the squad's faces, save Crosshair. Though, Bryn is fairly sure she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

Hunter rubs the back of his neck, smiling. "You would be correct, General. Heightened senses is the gift I got, but you're not wrong about the patience either."

Hunter paused at the doors the mess and they slide open to reveal a huge hall filled with the same face a few dozen times over. Hunter leads the way to the mess line, but a blanket of hushed whispers falls over the room as the squad walks through it.

"A Jedi?"

"That's General Caro."

"What's she doing here?"

A wash of relief falls over Squad 99, for once the whispers aren't about them. As they find a table to sit down with their trays, a shiny saunters up to Bryn with a smirk plastered across his face and two other shinies at his side.

"You know, General, why don't you come over with me and I'll show you how a real clone troops." He leers at Bryn. Many nearby clones turn to watch the scene unfold.

Squad 99 watches her, intrigued at how she'll respond. She simply keeps her eyes on her tray, spooning some stew towards her mouth. The shiny gets bolder and places a hand on her shoulder.

"What, you shy, loth-kitten?" He taunts.

The squad's eyes widen at his comment. Now the whole mess hall is watching. Hunter even clenches a fist, ready to stand to Bryn's defense. Bryn calmly takes a sip from her glass, and sets it down on the table, ignoring the hand on her. The shiny tightens his grip on her shoulder, opening his mouth for another comment. Suddenly a bowl goes flying off one of his mate's trays, landing on his head and splattering its contents everywhere. Hunter could swear he saw the General's hand twitch. Snarling, the shiny reels back and wipes the stew from his eyes only to see the general standing tall in front of him.

"Are you alright, Trooper?" She says, her voice smooth and calm. "You should be more careful, you might end up with your foot in your mouth instead of your lunch. What are you called?"

The shiny's face reddens, he answers with a growl. "CT-13-"

Bryn raises a hand, interrupting him. "No, what is your name, soldier?"

He blinks at her. "I- I don't have one."

She smiles. "Well, looks like you just earned one, Stew. I think it would be best if you finished your meal somewhere else." She turns and sits back down without waiting for a reply. The shiny and his mates slink back to a far corner of the mess hall and the general bustle returns to the room.

Bryn turns back to her meal but pauses when she notices the Squad is staring at her, mouths open. "What?" She asks plainly, a spoonful halfway to her mouth.

Hunter shakes his head. "I didn't know how you were going to react, but I certainly didn't expect that."

"That was awesome!" Wrecker exclaims

Bryn smiles. "That was a Jedi trick, Wrecker."

"Are they always that entertaining?" Tech asks, wiping a few drops of stew off his data pad.

"Definitely not." Bryn replies. "But I do seem to specialize in tricks of the edible variety. I threw a pastry at a fellow Jedi when we were in the Academy together, a besalisk with a bad attitude. Though, I just threw with my arm that time."

Again, the corner of Crosshair's mouth threatens to turn upwards, but a question from Tech draws Bryn's attention.

"So, Bryn. I'm curious, you said you're from Takodana, but you mentioned your brothers perished in the Battle of Jabiim. Did your family relocate and live in a village that was destroyed?"

Hunter can hear her heart skip a beat. "No. My brothers enlisted in the GAR at the start of the war. The 43rd legion was home to a battalion of nat-born soldiers. Sembren, the youngest, was only 24."

Tech rubs his chin. "Ah, so they chose to fight. I wonder why."

Bryn shrugs her shoulders. "I guess with a Jedi as an older sibling, they felt like they also had to answer to a greater purpose. I wasn't there to see them grow up so I wouldn't know. I never thought to ask when I did meet them. Sometimes I wonder what their lives would look like if they hadn't decided to serve the Republic."

"So you're the oldest of your family I take it?" Tech continues.

A shadow of something flits across Bryn's face, but she quickly replaces it with a smile. "The Jedi have long since been my family."

"What other Jedi tricks do you know, General?" Wrecker enthusiastically asks.

Bryn laughs. "Well, force-kinesis is definitely a party trick, but it can be a useful skill. With concentration, a Jedi can influence an individual's thoughts, though the success rate can depend on the subject's willpower or species. With study and practice, some Jedi can accelerate their healing. Many get visions in their dreams when the mind is more vulnerable. And of course, Jedi tend to have quick reflexes-" Her hand flies up and catches something- a spoon.

Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter turn in surprise to see Crosshair's outstretched hand.

"-which can be a huge advantage in battle." Bryn finishes calmly, setting the utensil down. "Though, the most helpful skill, in my opinion, is the ability to sense an individual's thoughts and emotions." She raises her eyes to Crosshair, who gets an uneasy feeling that she's actually looking through him.

"So," she continues. "If you all are done eating, then we can get going."

Hunter's brow furrows. "To where?"

"Oh I thought they would have told you." Bryn says apologetically. "I'm not just here to meet you, I'm here for our first mission. You're shipping out with me, tonight."

The squad's eyes widen as they look to each other. They're actually leaving Kamino.

Wrecker suddenly stands up, nearly knocking over the table. "Well what are we waiting for?"

Bryn and the rest of the squad stand up and clear their trays before walking out of the mess hall. The Jedi glances around her at the white Kaminoan hallways that all look the same.

Hunter appears at her right side. "You needed to go see Shaak Ti, right? Do you know the way to her office?"

Bryn shakes her head. "Admittedly no."

The sergeant smiles and jerks his head toward where his brothers are standing. "Come on, our barracks are on the way."

Once again Bryn finds herself winding through identical hallways until Crosshair, who's leading the group stops at a door. It slides open for them and the squad files in, Bryn last. She glances around and can quickly decipher whose bunk is whose.

Wrecker's is an absolute mess, blankets tossed everywhere, littered with ration bar wrappers. Bryn does notice there's a tooka doll tucked into the corner by Wrecker's pillow. Crosshair's is pristine. Three practice targets are hung on the wall, three sets of blacks are neatly folded on top of his crisply made bunk. He's managed to arrange some spare crates around his bed into a barrier between him and the rest of the barrack.

Much like Wrecker's, Tech's blankets are haphazardly thrown on the bed, but instead of ration wrappers, pieces of spare wire and mechanical components are strewn about. The majority of his bunk is occupied by what looks like a long-range transmitter, and the walls of his bunk are decorated with various scribbles of equations or gadget designs. Hunter's bunk is neatly made, not to Crosshair's caliber, but neat nonetheless. A spare pair of boots sits at the foot of his bed, a storage trunk beside them. He's decorated his wall will the same skull emblem as the one on his red bandana and '99' in Aubresh. He has his Sergeant accolades pinned above his pillow.

There are two spare bunks in a corner of the room. Neither have blankets on them, both are taken by storage crates holding a slew of random items. Hunter sniffs a couple times. "Ah, sorry about the smell, General." he says, setting his helmet down on a crate by his bunk.

Bryn chuckles. "Don't be, this is nothing. The 501st? Some of them are fresh enough to peel paint."

Again, Hunter smiles at her and turns to his brothers. "Start packing, boys. I'll be right back."

He steps back out into the hallway, pausing to make sure Bryn follows him. It only takes a couple minutes for him to escort her to master Shaak Ti's office.

He turns to make his way back to the barracks, but Bryn calls out to him. "I won't be long. When you all are done packing, meet me in Hangar 99. Expect to be gone for about ten days."

The doors to hangar 99 slide open as Hunter steps through with his brothers. His eyes fall on General Caro who's leaning up against an Omicron-class attack shuttle. She's added some armor pieces over her Jedi robes, something many generals choose to do. Hunter comes to attention in front of her, giving a salute. "Reporting, General." He says curtly, his brothers following suit.

Bryn chuckles and casually waves her hand. "No need for that boys, I hated it when an entire legion did it, still hate it now." The squad returns to their normal postures as she pushes herself away from the starship. "I trust you had no trouble finding your way here?"

Tech adjusts his goggles. "Hangar bay 99, very fitting."

Bryn smiles. "I thought so too."

Hunter scans over the ship behind the general in awe. "What is this" He asks plainly.

Bryn gestures wide to the ship. "Welcome to your new home away from home. The Havoc Marauder." She presses her hand to a button on the landing gear and the gangplank slides open. "Come on in."

The batch walk up the gangplank in turn and begin investigating the interior. After only a few minutes inside, it's clear the starship has been modified with a few more creature comforts than a regulation Omicron-class. Half the jump seats on the wall opposite the entryway have been replaced with a massive databank and multiple displays. The cockpit houses four chairs that look much more comfortable than regulation. Through the entry galley there's a hallway with two doors on one side and a single door on the other.

The first of the two doors reveals a mess storage with a ration warmer and even a small kaf press. Next door is the refresher, complete with a shower stall, albeit a cramped one. Across the hall is the med bay with a permanent bunk in the corner and some basic exam and trauma instruments. At the end of the hallway is another door that leads to a large space at the rear of the ship. On one wall there's three fold-down bunks and on the other side of the space are weapons racks and storage crates. The entrance to the rear gun is here and in the center of the space is a ladder leading to both the upper and lower cargo holds.

When the boys are done exploring, they come back to the entry galley to find Bryn leaning against the bulkhead to the cockpit.

"So?" She asks with a smile on her face. "Will this suffice?"

Hunter glances around him. "This can't be regulation."

Before Bryn can reply, Tech chimes in. "It is not. Clearly this ship has been heavily modified. Though, I may need to make a few more."

"How did you get this?" Wrecker asks, still looking around him with child-like glee.

Bryn shrugs. "Well... You nearly get yourself killed a couple times and people will give you something nice every once in a while. Crosshair, what do you think?"

The sniper's eyes had barely glanced around the ship before training on the general. As Crosshair's eyes narrow, Bryn braces for another snide comment that doesn't come. "Your armor."

His brothers focus on the general and they finally notice the armor plates she added to her Jedi robes are gleaming maroon-striped metal with the Republic insignia on her left shoulder, the crest of the Jedi order on her right. A striking set of jiag eyes adorns her chestplate. 

"Beskar." Crosshair breathes, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

Bryn crosses her arms. "House Vizsla." She responds plainly.

"Woah." Wrecker exclaims. "Wait- what's that?"

Tech adjust his goggles. "House Vizsla." He repeats. "One of the oldest lineages of Mandalore, and the first Mandalorian bloodline to produce a Jedi."

Wrecker blinks. "But I thought you were from Takodana?"

"I am." Bryn replies. "My family descended from a branch of House Vizsla, but my ancestors left Mandalore not long after the fall of the Old Republic. This armor is one of the last pieces of that history."

"Would you ever go back?" Hunter asks.

"Although I have blood of the Creed, I would never be considered one of their own, I honestly have no desire to be. My people are elsewhere. 'Aliit ori'shya tal'din'."

The squad's eyes widen when Bryn speaks in their native Mando'a.

"Family is more than blood." Hunter repeats.

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future works!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #bad batch #star wars oc #star wars tbb #star wars tcw #Bryn-Ayla Del Caro

[katwatcheskny]

Can I ask for tanjiro comforting a fem reader (can be imagine or Drabble whichever is better for you)

tanjiro comforts the reader

type: drabble

pronouns: she/her/herself

word count: 1385

a/n: hello! thank you for making a request, i really appreciate it. i decided to make this a drabble because i wasn't able to expand this request into an imagine. merry christmas, and reminder that requests are open if anyone wants to make one.

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“(Y/N)?” 

Tanjiro had felt a range of emotions when Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho told him that there was another person recovering in the butterfly mansion besides himself, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. He felt bad for being excited to learn the other patient was (Y/N). Her presence in the mansion meant that she was injured, but at the same time he was excited to see her after months since their last meeting. Once he felt better, he decided to pay her a visit.

She looked well. There were bandages wrapped around her knuckles to her elbows on both her arms, and bandages wrapped around her neck. But, she was sitting up on her own and she was looking out the window. She was injured, of course, but Tanjiro had been worse off many more times before. He was sure that (Y/N) would probably recover before all of them and be on her way to continue slaying demons. She did appear dazed, though.

(Y/N) was staring out the window, as though she wasn’t really in the room right now but somewhere far away. Lost in her own mind that she didn’t even seem to notice that another person had entered the room. Tanjiro gasped, slightly as an intrusive thought entered his mind. What if she was ignoring him? She had incredible instincts as a slayer, she was trained to never let anything sneak up on her. She must be upset with him for some reason or another, not that he could think of some offense he must have committed.

She looked down at her hands. “Tanjiro. Aoi told me that you were here, are your injuries serious?” She questioned, and he could hear that she had been crying in the shakiness of her voice, so unlike her usual confidence.

Tanjiro shook his head, “I am feeling much better. Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

The girl tried to nod, before she shook her head honestly. When she turned to finally face him, there were tears gathered in her (e/c) eyes.

Tanjiro’s mouth gaped open in shock and horror. Tanjiro had known (Y/N) since he had first become a demon slayer. He had known her for years, although he only saw her every couple of months, for a different amount of time each time they crossed paths. Tanjiro thought of her as a good friend. She had always been courteous and more than accepting of Nezuko. And in all that time, he had never seen (Y/N) even upset, let alone crying. He moved his aching legs to enter the room properly and fell to his knees at her bedside and grabbed her hands that had been resting on her lap.

(Y/N) breathed heavily, as she tried to keep herself from crying anymore, as though if she could control her breathing it would stop her emotions. Tanjiro held her hands palm to palm, resting his thumbs over her knuckles. Their hands were so very calloused and scarred. A thin line of tears ran down from the corner of her eyes, and she leaned down to rest her forehead atop Tanjiro’s head, as the tears continued to run down her face. Tanjiro’s hands were cold right now, but there was still the ever present warmth that surrounded him. (Y/N) moved her hands out of his, so that she could intertwine her fingers with his, and nestled her face more towards his forehead, right beside the large red scar on the left side.

They remained like that for an indeterminate amount of time. It could have been as brief as five minutes, but it felt more as though it had been hours. Tanjiro had wanted to say something, to ask questions of what had happened to make her cry, or wanting to offer comforting words. Yet, he held his tongue and just waited as (Y/N)’s tears lessened and her breathing stilled, and she pulled her head away from his own and he could look up at her.

“So-sorry,” she whimpered.

Tanjiro shook his head, keeping his red eyes focused on her intensely. “You don’t have to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

She shook her head, “no, I do. I am weak and pathetic.”

“No, you’re not!” Tanjiro insisted, “you’re one of the strongest people I have ever met! You’re such a great swordsman and your breathing style is great.”

“You’re so sweet, Tanjiro,” she mumbled, so quietly as though she didn’t want him to hear her praise. But he had, and it caused his cheeks to turn red with a somewhat burning sensation. It was an amazing feeling to know that she thought of him so highly that he briefly forgot that she was upset. “I’m not strong enough, I’m not good enough. I wasn’t able to save anyone but myself. I shouldn’t be a demon slayer, I am not like you.”

She tried to pull her hands away from him, but he held on stubbornly and looked at her with a serious look. “What happened, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) looked away in shame. She relaxed her hands and then tightened her fingers around his. She sighed, “I was assigned to act as backup to a mission that was going less than successful. The demon was powerful, it had been feasting on a temple of monks and any demon slayers who came into its territory. We were its prey the moment we climbed up that mountain. All the other demon slayers I went with were the same age as me or younger. Some of them I knew, others I had only met that night. It picked them off one at a time. It had gotten me too, he tried to slit my throat when I screamed, but I was saved by a friend. The demon killed him and I beheaded while it ripped him apart. I was the only one who survived. Twenty slayers, and I was the only one who survived. And only because Takami saved me and died in my place.” She tried to bury her face in her shoulder as her tears returned.

Tanjiro lifted himself off of his knees and onto his feet, but he did not release her hands, only tightening his grip. “You shouldn’t feel guilty that you survived, that you’re alive. There is no reason why you don’t deserve to live, (Y/N), you’re a good person. What happened was terrible but that isn’t your fault. It’s not fair that a demon killed all those people without remorse and you’re the one left feeling regretful. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with these thoughts, because you did nothing wrong.”

She shook her head again.

“I am very happy that you’re alive,” he announced, “I will make sure to pay my respects to Takami for saving you before I leave. He was a good demon slayer who made an impossible decision. He was a good friend.”

“He was,” she nodded. “And so are you Tanjiro.”

He felt his cheeks warm again at her praise, as it had earlier when she called him sweet. Though there was also a disheartening ache in his chest at the mention of them being friends. That was odd, they were friends, that shouldn’t make him upset. “And you’re a good friend, (Y/N). If you leave the corps, I will understand. I just think you should take more time before you make a decision as serious as leaving the corps until after you recover.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed. (Y/N) turned to him, there was still a sadness in her eyes but there was a small smile as well. “Thank you, Tanjiro. I’m not happy about why you’re here, but I am really happy that you were here. You always know how to cheer me up. Thank you so much.”

He blushed, abashedly, “you don’t have to thank me.”

“Would you mind staying for a while?” she asked.

Tanjiro looked down at their hands, which neither of them had ever bothered to let go of from their conversation, so long that he had almost forgotten that they were holding hands. Tanjiro hadn’t ever held a girl’s hand before, beside Nezuko, but that didn’t count. It was the same as holding (Y/N)’s hand. 

“Of course.”

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro x you #tanjiro imagines #tanjiro headcanons #tanjiro drabble #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #kny headcanons #kny imagines #kny drabble #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

[frozenwolftemplar]

Writer's Month Day 18: Free

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (Netflix)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,730 (just dawned on me to include this, lol)

Summary: Carmen and Player have some time to themselves before meeting up with the others, and Player has a fit of inspiration for a fun way to spend it. After all, a park lawn presently being watered by sprinklers is basically an open invitation.

Author's Note: Someone in this fandom (not sure who) formed the headcanon that Player takes a gap year when he turns 18 and travels the world with Carmen; this fic makes use of that. Happy readng!

+++

“So:” Player didn’t look up from his phone as he walked, tapping and swiping through windows with practiced speed. “Shadowsan should get here later this evening, and Ivy and Zach tomorrow. Their ACME job just wrapped up in Seoul, so they’re good to hit an early flight first thing. Provided the plane leaves as scheduled, they should touch down sometime around ten-thirty, we all swing by the hotel to drop their stuff off, and then we should be good to get started on some sightseeing. Sound good?”

Merry lines crinkled around Carmen’s eyes as she looked over at Player, walking alongside her. He used the same clipped efficiency she remembered from the briefings that flowed through her comms before countless capers back when they were taking down VILE, and hearing it again caused something warm and comfortable to stir in her chest.

Was this what nostalgia felt like?

“Red?”

At the verbal nudge, Carmen blinked back to the mostly-empty park they were walking through and met his questioning look with a grin. “Perfect. It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

“Who, me?” Player blinked up at her- he’d grown taller since she first saw him in-person, but she still had a good two or three inches on him- with obviously feigned innocence. “An expert in booking flights and scheduling rendezvous? What do I look like, some kind of tech genius to an incurable globetrotter who still can’t figure out how to book her own airline tickets?”

Carmen chuckled. “Something like that. And hey,” his footsteps broke out of their steady rhythm as she nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “I’m getting there. I booked our tickets to Osaka myself, didn’t I? And the train tickets to Matsumoto?”

He answered with an impressively flat look.

“Okay,” she amended. “Mostly by myself.” Because no matter that she was the one operating the touchpad and clicking the appropriate buttons, the feat would have been impossible without Player perched next to her in the hotel, coaching her through each screen and patiently pointing out where to click.

“That’s more like it. But hey, a few more cities, and you’ll be a pro. Maybe not as good as me, of course...”

Carmen huffed a laugh.“I can live with that. You said we’ve got time before meeting up with Shadowsan?”

Back down to the phone Player dove, pulling up and scrolling through windows with a speed Carmen’s eyes never could keep up with. “Just checking for any delays or traffic slow-downs...” he muttered as Carmen, at the rapid pattering of a jogger coming up behind them, took ahold of his elbow and steered him onto the grass (they’d already nearly been bowled over by her twice and what kind of master thief nearly had the same accident three times?).

“About half an hour.” Player slid the phone back into his pocket, matching his stride to hers as they stepped back onto the pavement.

Carmen hummed thoughtfully. Not much time, relatively speaking, but after a couple of months traveling together, they’d gotten remarkably good at making the most of even the briefest length of time. “We can work with that. Anything you want to-”

A sharp hissing sound cut her off. They both stopped and looked towards sprawling emerald-green lawn the path bordered, where an army of sprinkler heads had just popped out of the ground and were busily filling the air with misty plumes of droplets, sprayed out in wide, sweeping arcs over the grass. Player whipped towards Carmen, grinning wide, eyes alight with a sudden idea.

Carmen tilted her head in confusion, brow arched in incomprehension. They were just sprinklers, nothing to get excited about.

“It’s a hot day,” he said in a leading tone, nodding towards the lawn. “Want to cool off a bit?”

Carmen blinked.

....He couldn’t be serious.

Her confusion must have showed (not that it would have made a difference if it didn’t; she’d never cease to be amazed by just how well he could read her), because now he was looking at her with disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’ve never ran through sprinklers?”

“Uh...no?” Carmen looked over his shoulder at the grass being subjected to a localized rain shower, brows furrowed. Run *through* them? Was this a Canadian thing?

“Seriously?” Player looked at her quizzically. “No one, like, ever set up sprinklers to water the Academy lawns?”

She shrugged flippantly. “Never needed to. It rained a lot.”

“And your mom?”

“Artificial turf. She said she gave up on grass a long time ago.” Because apparently, grass did not mix with dozens of kids stampeding over it day in and day out for a decade plus.

”Uh-huh...” Player nodded slowly, letting her answer sink in. The second it did a grin burst across his face, impossibly wide and bright enough to cause Carmen to fight a squint. “Then this is perfect! I can finally show you something cool!”

The uncomprehending brow was arched higher. “Niagra Falls doesn’t count?” Because from where she stood, thousands of gallons of water rushing over a cataract was definitely a more impressive sight than urban lawn care.

“That’s different.” Player waved a hand, brushing aside one of the natural wonders of the world like it was as pedestrian as a rain puddle. “This is a summertime tradition. Every kid does it at least once. You *have* to. It’s the rule.”

A smirk answered him. “Even if I got hung up on rules-“ (they both knew she still didn’t), “I’m pretty sure they don’t apply here. I’m twenty-two.”

Player shrugged, unbothered by the technicality that was age. “So? Better late than never.” He crossed his arms and looked at her archly. “Don’t tell me the great Carmen Sandiego is afraid of getting a little wet?”

Carmen huffed through her nose. “Of course not.”

“Then...?”

“It’s just...” she chewed her lip, rolling her eyes upwards, away from his quietly expectant face to search the cloudless sky for words, then shrugged lamely. ”I’m just not used to doing ‘kid stuff?’” A pathetic answer, she knew, especially since she knew Player knew what an average day at the orphanage looked like for her, but playing tag with the kids in her mom’s yard or even Marco Polo with Zach and Ivy at a hotel pool (an old mainstay during their travels, one she’d never tired of and was frankly looking forward to once they finished sightseeing tomorrow and returned to the hotel; now that Player was here, they were going to try teams) just felt...different from what Player was proposing.

She supposed VILE was to blame for her hesitation, at least partway. She *was not* a part of them, but their old lessons were still a part of her, from protecting the face to perfecting the featherlight touch that was a master of stealth’s perennial pride to more delicate lessons in criminal comportment, memories tinted with the posh, perfumed scent of Cleo’s classroom. A professional thief, per the haughty echo that still rang in the back of her thoughts, always carried themselves with dignity while out in the field, a mantle of aloofness that precluded any unsavory questions from passers-by being an indispensable part of any outfit. Accordingly, when she’d taken up her own mission of bringing VILE to its knees, her modus operandi had, by habit, included the attitude of abstaining from any public displays of spectacle.

So, yes, VILE had a hand in her hesitation, but...not fully. Part of her sensed that even if she had grown up as her father intended, ignorant of them and away from their clutches, she’d still be wearing the mantle, albeit out of nature. She just...wasn’t that sort of person, she supposed, to spontaneously run through sprinklers in a public park, saving those indulgences in ‘kid stuff’ for more private venues; a mirror of sorts to how Zach and Ivy never did share her enjoyment of high-class galas (both far preferring the street fair fundraisers they frequented back in San Diego which, she could admit, held their own charms).

Player’s expression softened as he listened between the lines. “I get it, Red, but look around.” She obediently did, scanning the park in all of a second. The day, even as it slid towards evening, was too hot for most people to brave the outdoors, and the only person in sight that same laser-focused jogger who had eyes only for the pavement speeding under her Reeboks.

Player followed Carmen’s gaze as she tracked the woman and, in answer to her knotting brows: “I doubt she’d notice.”

Carmen didn't. True, the woman had proven to have commendable tunnel vision, but two definitely-not-kids running through sprinklers making a spectacle would likely be the exact sort of occurrence that would *force* her to take notice of her surroundings.

Hence her opinion remained unchanged: no way

But when she looked back at Player with a disagreement on her lips he was holding out a hand, hopeful, eager. “Please, Red? It’s fun...”

She supposed she should be embarrassed at how little it took for her to capitulate to puppy-dog-eyes and an enticing sing-song, but, well, what else could she do when such a request came from her best friend? And, well, when she looked at the sprinklers, still chkk chkk chkk-ing away, the sound oddly enticing, she couldn’t ignore the fact that a part of her really did want to.

She offered one final rebuttal, but the smirk curving the words robbed it of any purpose beyond their old, familiar banter. “I doubt getting soaking wet in your clothes is fun.”

"Oh, just wait."

The second she set her hand in his, he tightened his grip and bolted onto the lawn, darting through the jets of water and dragging her after him. Droplets laughed against her skin, splashing and tickling her with a cool so sudden she gasped. Then the laughter was seeping into her, causing a light, tripping feeling to bubble up in her chest. Ahead of her, Player tugged left, taking Carmen in a zig zag path, not missing a jet of water, laughing loud as she shrieked at each spray they crashed through, the giddy, wheeling sensation in her chest at last spilling over into a rush, wild and without reserve, of girlish giggles.

The sound spurring him on, Player banked sharp to a right, heading for a sprinkler head whose fan shaped plume was arcing high, unfurling straight into the air. A wild light blazed in Carmen's eyes as she saw his intention, and she summoned a burst of speed so she was no longer being dragged behind him, but running alongside, then ahead, strides long and pounding as she gathered herself and leaped through the spray, elegant and unfettered to cause the roe envy. She kept her speed as she landed, heading for the next jet to the soundtrack of Player racing not terribly far behind, whooping in a way she hadn’t heard before and cheering with abandon as she flew, arms spread out wide behind her, through spray after joyous spray, a wilding set free.

Crud, she would always be amazed at how good it felt to just play, no constraining rules or machinations for victory; no confining chessboard or suits of diamonds or spades to pen you in; just her and Player running through sprinklers, getting absolutely soaked for the fun of it. It was exhilarating in a way the capers never had been.

“There!” Player, bangs dripping into his eyes, laughed when they at last came to a stop on the far side of the lawn. “Told you it was fun!”

Carmen pushed a tendril behind her ear. “Yeah,” she panted, grinning wide, a lightness somersaulting joyously in her chest. Really, it was more than fun; she couldn’t explain how, but the sensation of racing through the jets coupled with the feel of her decidedly damp shirt clinging to her skin was oddly freeing, unlatching a door inside her she hadn’t realized had been shut and loosing all manner of coltish, frolicsome impulses she never knew were hidden inside her. She grinned slyly over at Player. “But you know what would be more fun?” Not giving him time to answer, she tapped him on the head. ”Tag!”

“Wha-“ he blinked after her as she bolted through the sprinklers again, fleet as the wind and completely heedless of the jets, shouting, over her shoulder, “You’re it!”

For a moment he stared, wondering how in the world Carmen, who’d needed an explanation for ‘Simon says’ when her mom asked her to lead the littler kids in a game, knew what ‘tag’ was (the possibility of Shadowsan teaching her back on the Island both did and did not make sense), then threw off contemplation in favor of, with a cry of “La Femme Rogue!” that would have had Zach and Ivy in stitches and Julia trying very hard not to be, taking off after Carmen.

“You will not escape this time!”

Such a bold statement very nearly came true as his quarry nearly doubled over laughing as she stumbled to a stop, hands wrapped around her middle (crud, that was a terrible impression).

“Ah ha! She has a weakness!”

“Not fair!” Carmen panted as she straightened and resumed running, albeit with a smaller gap between pursuant and pursuer than before.

“All’s fair in- WHOA!”

Proving that even in imitation she held the advantage over her old adversary, Carmen pivoted on a dime so Player’s reaching hand armed with ‘Tag!’ completely missed its mark and, being propelled by its owner’s momentum, proceeded to cause said owner to topple towards the ground. Player hastily tried to correct his balance, slow his fall, and regain footing in the slick grass, but ultimately his efforts proved futile, seeing him faceplant heavily- Thud! -on the ground.

A candle attacked by a bucket of water was doused slower than the sprightly mood that had glistened over the lawn.

“Player!” Carmen darted to kneel by her friend, breathing heavily but otherwise motionless. She moved to grasp his shoulder to shake, then thought better of it, leaving her hand hovering uncertainly in midair. “Player, I am so sorry, are- can you-“ Crud, she much, *much* preferred being the unconscious one. “Can you even hear me?!?”

“...Red?”

Carmen breathed out a sigh of relief (small relief, he could still be concussed or paralyzed or a dozen other grim possibilities). “Player, thank goodness, are you hurt or-“

“M’fine, Red. Just...”

She bent closer as he trailed off to hear better, completely missing how one of his hands was scuttling towards a sprinkler jet.

“Yeah?”

“YOU’RE IT!”

Grasping the head, Player shoved his thumb over the jet so it sprayed directly at Carmen.

“AUGH!!!” She fell back, spluttering and trying (uselessly) to shield her face from the spray with her hands as Player leapt to his feet, front smeared with mud and grass but eyes wild with fun. “That doesn’t count!” she managed once the water was back on its normal trajectory. “You didn’t tag me!”

“Eh,” Player shrugged, unrepentant. “A technicality. Besides, I thought you didn’t get hung up on rules?”

“Fair point,” Carmen, after some deliberation, conceded with a slow, thoughtful nod. She stood, idly brushing some blades of grass from her thighs. “And since we’re playing that way...”

She glanced up at Player, and he gulped, catching the way the sun snagged on the mischievous glint in Carmen’s eyes. “Uh oh.”

“I’ll give you a head start.”

On her next circuit, the impossible happened and the jogger paused, running in place as she watched the pair frolicking in the sprinklers, the earlier game of Tag having devolved into a tickle fight. A smile blossomed across her face and she turned to a man who had just materialized beside her, also watching the pair. “Nice to see young people enjoying themselves.”

“Yes.” The man nodded his concurrence, the years melting from his weathered face at an especially wild peal from the girl as the boy attacked an unusually ticklish spot on her ribs (no regrets on divulging that secret to him, that was certain). “It most certainly is.”

And none, Shadowsan thought with a grin as the jogger moved on and he turned back the way he came, letting Carmen and Player have this moment to themselves, the laughter frolicking at his heels lifting the corners of his mouth, deserve it more.

#writersmonth2023 #writersmonth #carmen sandiego #player #player bouchard #carmen sandiego 2019 #in which i write #my writing #cs fanfic #cs fics #carmen sandiego fanfiction #carmen fanfic #carmen fic #fanfic

[astrabear]

My labor, and my leisure too (pt. 2)

This is significantly longer than I'd planned this section to be, but I couldn't justify breaking it up. As before, unedited and un-beta'd. The next (and I think final) part is underway.

First part here

******

Was this how the kids had felt during the briefing? Banging their fists on the walls of her certainty, trying to find a way to break in? She missed that. She missed being inside the walls. Now there she was, trying to claw her way through to Nicky and Joe. And it wasn’t working.

After the initial shock subsided, she and the kids – the other kids, she felt like a frightened child again – barraged them with questions. Surely there were things they wanted to do. Surely they wanted more time. Hadn’t Nicky talked about looking forward to seeing Joe going grey, seeing his laugh lines deepen and spread? Hadn’t Joe spent centuries mapping out the house he wanted to build, on a real planet somewhere, with no vents or circuitry to worry about gumming up with graphite and charcoal dust? What about the garden they could grow once they didn’t have to move around all the time? What about the pets they could have? The kids? The lives? They could have another century, with modern technology. Wasn’t that worth something?

But they were… not unmoved, they were both crying openly. Unpersuaded. Nile was beginning to suspect, unpersuadable.

“That was only ever a fantasy,” Joe said. “A fun way to pass the time. We always knew that.”

Nicky added, “We have spent more of our lives in space than planetside, now. Where would we go? There is no home to return to. There is nowhere that could become home, without all of you with us.”

“But you can’t –“ Jerrah’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You can’t have thought this through. It’s been less than twelve hours! You’re still in shock, you shouldn’t be making these kinds of decisions yet.”

“If it’s our time – “

“Don’t you dare,” Nile growled. “Don’t you fucking dare say that, Nicky. Not now, not here.” He bowed his head and held his hands up in surrender.

“Twelve hours is more than Lykon got,” Joe said quietly. “It’s more than Booker got.” God, Booker. For the first time in almost three hundred years, Nile was grateful for having lost Booker (relatively) young. She could not have borne his grief on top of her own.

Joe went on, “But you’re right, it doesn’t have to be decided right now. We’d be spending at least a few more days on planning anyway. And the optimal window isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He grinned with some of his usual sparkle and winked. “You’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”

“This is not the way we wanted to tell you. But we could not let you give up this mission, not when there’s another way.”

“Well there’s still some disagreement about whether that even counts as another way – “

“Enough.” Nile cut Lijie off sharply. “We’re tabling this for now. Jarrah, go back to your quarters and review my calculations. Maybe I missed something. Lijie and Gert, pull up the notes from when we first started planning this. See if anything we’ve learned since then gives us an option other than a direct assault. Use the dining room. You and I,” she said to Joe and Nicky, “have some more talking to do.”

The three kids stood up, reluctantly, from the circle on the floor they’d all ended up in. Nile could see each of them looking for excuses to stay. “Come on guys,” she said. “This is a lot to deal with, and we will keep discussing it, and we will work it out together, but sitting around crying isn’t going to do us any good right now. We’ve got work to do.”

Slowly, they shuffled out. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Nile held up a finger to tell him to wait. When the door had closed and she judged that the kids were far enough away, she scooted across the floor, wedged herself between the two men, drew them close to her, and burst into tears.

“You assholes,” she said as she felt them mold themselves around her. “You absolute bastards.” This was how they (and Andy, Quỳnh, and Booker) had held her when her mother and brother died. When Andy, and then Quỳnh, and then Booker had died. When their hope of ever returning to Earth had died. They’d been with her through thousands of years of loss, theirs as well as hers, and she sobbed until she was hoarse.

"I'm not ready to be the oldest," she murmured into Joe's shoulder.

He stroked the fuzzy stubble on her head. "Yeah, you're only what, 2600 years old? 27? You're just a baby."

A thousand times as old as she'd been when she first became immortal, and she felt no more prepared to handle this than she'd felt then. "Yes," she said, "just a baby. So I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be the only one who remembers Earth the way it was. I'm not ready to be the only one who remembers Andy. I'm just...not ready. To lose you. I can't do it."

She felt the press of lips against the top of her head. It could have been either of them. I'll have to be strong for the kids, she thought. I'm not going to have anyone whose first instinct is to take care of me, instead of expecting me to take care of them. I'm so old, we're all so old, it shouldn't matter. But it does, it still does.

"I've never been ready," Nicky admitted. "Not for any of it. Not for Andy or Quỳnh. Certainly not for... I still wake up sometimes and forget he's gone.”

"What happened to all that 'if it's their time' business?"

He laughed ruefully, and she felt the breath of it on her ear. "That is what I believe. It isn't always what I feel. And I remember my first death. I'd known I would die there, but when the moment came..."

"That animal need," said Joe. "Wanting more, always more. Of life, of feeling, of the people you love. You'd think it would be sated after living so long, but you just get more things you want to keep doing."

"So how can you just... throw it all away?" How many times had she questioned them in that plaintive tone? How do you, how can you, how could you. Needing answers about immortality that she wouldn't be able to understand for centuries to come.

"We're not throwing anything away. We're uh... " Joe screwed up his face, looking for the right word. "We're donating it. To people who need it more."

"The life we want to keep living is this life here," Nicky said, "doing what we have always done. Not a house and a garden, with neighbors we can't relate to and children we'd have to lie to. And there is no way to last another hundred years doing that. So..." He shrugged.

"Dying with your boots on," Nile muttered.

"Precisely."

She sat up and leaned back against Nicky, rubbing her face. Joe patted her leg in the way that meant "it sucks and I'm sorry but it's time to get moving." Joe had a rich and complex lexicon of physical affection, and she'd been fluent in it for millennia. She wondered if she'd live long enough to forget it the way she'd forgotten American English.

He said, "It's a happy ending, really," and she wanted to argue with him. But what could she say? "It would be better if it was just one of you, so I wouldn't lose you both at once?" That had been their nightmare for thousands of years. And she knew full well that losing one meant losing the other in all the ways that mattered. "You should give up the things that matter most to you so I can put off feeling sad for a little longer?"

She sighed. "No it isn't. It's just the best one available. If there has to be one."

Nicky wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Even for us, there has to be. Even when we aren't ready."

She closed her eyes and recited the lecture she'd given to each of the kids, more than once. "We do the things that have to be done, that no one else can do. It's all right to be scared - you can do it scared. It's all right not to feel ready - you can do it unready. You can do it grudgingly, resentfully, exhaustedly, sadly. But you've gotta do it. Because we fight for what we think is right, and the only thing we're less able to do than stay dead is walk away."

When she opened her eyes again, Joe's gaze was there waiting to lock with hers. "Only one part of that has changed, Nile. We still can't walk away."

You can do it unready. You can do it sadly. "Ok," she whispered. "Ok."

#the old guard #the old guard fanfiction #my fic #nile freeman #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #kaysanova

[angelst4re]

Ummm so... This is very specific

A fic where jamie and reader (actress) meet during the filming of Sweeney Todd (she plays Johanna) they become friends and later more than just friends and then the devil's tango 😏😏

okay... i love this i love this i loveee this!!!! i've kinda combined a few different requests together here as it made sense, so i hope you like it!!! i had so much fun writing it <3

Mystery of Love- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: reader and jamie met during the filming of sweeney todd, they become great friends but then end up 'losing contact', but they're reunited many years later and have some tension to resolve.

warnings: underage drinking? (super brief!), smut! it's mostly not.. but if you're uncomfortable with this please don't read!

note: okay so, reader plays robin in stranger things (and jamie didn't watch season 3!) just trust me on this one besties. ALSO i literally spent all day writing this and rewriting this and writing this cos i just love the idea overall!! i have such a romanticised idea of love it is not okay.

You first met Jamie in 2007, when you began filming Sweeney Todd. The two of you clicked instantly seeing as you both had a few things in common, such as this being your first proper movie and both being younger than most people on set. At the time of filming, Jamie was 18 and you were 17, so neither of you were really more experienced than the other.

It didn’t take long for you to become great friends. You shared your worries with each other, spent the days together in London when you weren’t filming, he would even sneak you a few drinks at the pub after hours of you begging him, which he easily gave into. You even spent your 18th birthday on set, and although you couldn’t go home to see your family he made it special. After filming he surprised you with a cake and a couple gifts- one of which you had pointed out in a shop window when the two of you had spent a day in London together…

“What if Sweeney does well and we become super famous celebrities?” Jamie asks with a grin, nudging you with his elbow as you walk down the street. 

“Pfft, it’ll do great because of Johnny, Helena and Alan, people won’t think twice about us!” 

“Hey! Don’t crush my dreams, y/n!” He joked, “I think we’ll get super rich and famous and we’d be able to afford anything here!” He pointed to the window of Tiffany’s as an example, and something immediately caught your eye. 

“Jamie look!” You pointed at the bracelet, “okay, so when we become super rich and famous actors I know what I’ll be buying first!” 

You couldn’t believe it. The bracelet was almost £400 when you saw it in the store. It was a beautiful silver bead bracelet with the signature Tiffany blue heart which had a tiny diamond on the other side. Your eyes began to fill with tears as you flung your arms around Jamie, trapping him in a tight hug. It was this night when you realised you had caught feelings for your best friend.

You didn’t know whether you should tell him or just let it pass, would he say he liked you back or would it ruin your friendship? It kept you awake at night, questioning everything. You were sure you wouldn’t see him much anymore after filming, so it was either tell him how you feel before it’s too late or just try to push it all aside for the next two weeks until it’s over and hope you’ll never see him again. But you couldn’t do that, he had become such an important person in your life that you didn’t think you could live without him. 

However, you succeeded in keeping your feelings a secret. You thought it was for the best, and on the night of the premiere you knew it was for a reason. You had been waiting for Jamie to text you back, he had asked you almost two months ago about going with him but he had said no more after that, and you were left confused and- on the night- alone. 

And then you saw him walking down the carpet with another girl. 

You felt your heart sink as he put his arm around her, kissing her forehead and then making eye contact with you, sending a massive smile your way. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried blinking away the tears in your eyes as he made his way over to you. 

“Y/n! I don't know if you two have met before… this is my girlfriend, Louise!” 

—————————♡—————————

Many years and many failed relationships had passed. You rarely thought about Jamie anymore, although you truly believed he was your first love, it would be impossible to truly forget about him. You checked up on him through social media once or twice a year, but you never plucked up the courage to message him. You knew the basics of what had gone down in his life since you last saw him- which had been at the premiere. 

You knew he went on to star in Harry Potter and Twilight, you were happy his career had gone the way he had always dreamed of when the two of you would talk about your futures. You had also starred in some pretty big movies since your first, you wondered whether he was happy for you too, or whether he even thought about you at all. 

You still wore the bracelet he bought you for your 18th birthday everyday. When asked about it, you said it was from an old friend- which wasn’t a lie- but if one of your partners found out you still wore a bracelet given to you from a boy you have loved for most of your life, it wouldn't end too well. And if they also found out he was the reason you had declined so many marriage proposals, you were sure they would call you crazy. 

However, what you didn’t know is that the same thing was happening for Jamie. He had gotten into many relationships since meeting you, but nobody was you. He wished he could have told you the truth all those years ago, that he was too afraid of you not loving him back, so he found somebody who he knew would love him, even if it was just for his money. 

He wished you knew how often he would check up on you, and how reading news headlines such as ‘Y/n Engaged?! Sweeney Todd Star Opens Up About Her Love Life’ would tear his heart even more. He wished he could find the courage to reach out to you, to see how you’re really doing. But he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he knew it would break him to find out how happy you have been without him. 

Every night when he was far from home, on tour with his band, he would listen to the mixtape the two of you had made and think back to the days the two of you would spend together in London. How truly in love with you he was, yet he was too afraid to tell you. He was going to ask you to be his girlfriend on your birthday when he had bought you the bracelet, but he was too afraid of you rejecting him, so he just kept his mouth shut. And lord, did he regret it. 

Little did he know, auditioning for Stranger Things would bring more than just old fans back to him. 

—————————♡————————— 

When you arrived at the read through for the new season, you sat down beside Natalia and Joe. Excited to see everybody again, you didn’t notice the new name at the end of the table. Everyone sat down and began to get ready to go through the papers when-

“Sorry I’m late! I had trouble getting in!” 

You recognised that voice, and suddenly a small wave of panic washed through you. You leaned past Joe to see who it was. And there he was. His voice was deeper than it was at 18, and his hair slightly shorter and lighter than it had been the last time you had seen him. His face was more defined, he was no longer the silly teenage boy he was when you met him, but instead he was a grown man. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Joe asked, giving you a funny look, “it looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” He joked, but little did he know.

You told him everything was okay, you just thought you had forgotten to do something before you left home. You pulled up the sleeve on your hoodie, covering the bracelet on your wrist as your brain worked at 150mph to try to comprehend what had just happened. 

“Everybody, I forgot to introduce you all to Jamie,” Matt Duffer announced. You felt faint, “he’s going to be playing Peter Ballard, our friendly orderly.” He said with a slight smirk

Much to your surprise, you managed to get through the read through without too much trouble. It was what was yet to come that had you nervous. Joe had told you he had met Jamie before, and you almost let your secret slip. But he had also asked about going out for drinks tonight, since everyone was now back together, and it would be great to get to know the new members of the cast- Jamie and Joseph. As Charlie and Natalia were up for it, it would seem quite suspicious if you were to decline and go back to your hotel instead.

When you got to the bar, it was just you, Charlie and Natalia. The others were running slightly late, which of course didn’t bother you. You decided to come clean and confess everything as you waited. 

“If I tell you guys something… strange… will you promise not to tell Joe, or anyone for that matter?” You ask, putting your drink down on the table. 

“Of course, what is it?” Natalia asked, sipping her strawberry lemonade. 

“So, it’s about Jamie…”

Charlie and Natalia were shocked, but not entirely surprised. It made sense, they both knew you were in Sweeney Todd, and they thought they recognised Jamie from somewhere. 

“So, this is Charlie, Natalia and y/n! Guys meet Joseph and Jamie! They’re so cool!” Joe grinned, sitting beside you. 

When you looked up, you were stunned to see Jamie already smiling at you. You couldn’t believe how he was so beautiful. 

“Well, holy shit,” he said, standing by your side, looking down at you, grinning like a kid at christmas, “hello again, darling!” 

To him, you had barely changed in 13 years. Sure, he had checked on your instagram every few months,  but it was nothing in comparison to seeing you again in person. 

“Oh my god!” You chuckle nervously, you could see Natalia giving you a worried glance form the corner of your eye, “Jamie…” You didn’t realise how his name brought back so many memories you forgot you had, “...how have you been?” 

“I’ve had my ups and downs, y’know. But what about you?” He placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch was still as gentle as ever- but now he had tattoos on his middle fingers.

“I’ve been great!” You smiled, probably too enthusiastically, “do you want a drink? I’ve just finished mine, heineken right?” You ask, standing up. 

“Oh, just a coke please, love. I don’t drink anymore.” He tells you, your heart racing at the ‘love’, he truly had not changed. 

You nodded and took your glass back to the bar, ready to order the same drink again, along with Jamie’s. You couldn’t quite comprehend that this man is your Jamie, the boy you had loved for almost half of your life. In your mind he was still the same boy he was when he was 18, but now you watched him from across the room, he had grown up. The two of you talked about growing up and getting older, although you were both high at the time, and you had always imagined growing up with him. You knew he wasn’t the same boy he was 13 years ago any more, now you look at him and he’s almost a stranger to you.

The evening went by quite nicely, there was never a moment of awkward silence between the six of you, and Joseph seemed lovely. Joe yawned, and told you all he would be heading back to his hotel soon, to which you followed, saying you had to wake up early tomorrow. 

You hugged Natalia and Charlie goodbye, telling Joseph it was lovely to meet him and you can’t wait to work with him. As you made your way to Jamie, he stopped and told you he would walk with you to your hotel as you found out earlier you were both staying on the same floor. 

The two of you walked out, a little too far behind Joe to walk with him. As you crossed the road Jamie caught sight of something on your left wrist, and it was like the world around him had paused. 

Jamie walked into the store, determined to find the exact one you wanted. However, when he looked around he couldn’t find it. He had walked around the shop twice when a young lady who worked there approached him, asking him if he’d like any assistance. 

“Yes, actually! I’m looking for this bracelet for my, uh… friend. She saw it in the window a couple of weeks ago, it had these beads and a heart on it… I was just wondering if you had any in, I can’t seem to find it?” 

“Oh, of course! It’s probably out in the back, give me two seconds!” She smiled, disappearing into a room around the back. Jamie waited at the counter for around five minutes before she came back, a little blue box in her hand, “is this the one you were looking for?” 

“Yes! Thank you! How much is it, may I ask?” Jamie grinned. 

“£380, cash or card?” The lady asked politely, tapping the buttons on the till. 

“Oh, um. Card, thank you.” Jamie felt around in his pockets before finding his credit card, handing it over. 

After paying, the lady handed him the gift in a beautiful blue bag. He just knew you would love this, it didn’t matter if he had just spent this month's rent on it, nothing in this world could matter more to him than you. 

“You still wear the bracelet?” Jamie spoke softly, his fingers brushing against your wrist. 

“Of course I do,” you smile, “I’ve worn it pretty much everyday since my 18th birthday. No gift I’ve ever received has meant more to me than this.”

“You know, when I bought that for you I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He admitted, shocked at himself that he had finally told you this after all those years, “but I was too scared. Scared you would say no, and things wouldn’t go back to how they were. I regret it now, and there hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t thought about how different our lives would be if I did actually ask you… I really loved you, y/n. I think, maybe-”

“Then why didn’t you call?” You ask, your voice cracking as you stared at the ground, continuing to walk, “after the premiere I never heard from you again. No calls, no texts, you just disappeared from my life.” You turned to look at him, the moment he saw the tears in your eyes he broke. 

“That wasn’t me, darling,” he says as the two of you walk through the doors of the hotel, “Louise, she thought you liked me, she thought I liked you more than her- and she wasn’t wrong. I treated you so wrong, darling, I know-”

“No you don’t know!” You raised your voice, “I thought it was my fault, all these years. I thought maybe I did something wrong-”

“Baby, you didn’t,” he attempted to calm you down, placing his hands on your shoulders, “it was all my fault, okay? I fucked everything up, and believe me, I payed the price-”

“No, you’re not listening to me! Jamie, I loved you too, I loved you more- and, fuck, maybe I still do! You’re not even with that girl anymore, what has stopped you from reaching out to me? Letting me know it was never my fault? I’ve never been able to hold down a relationship, I’ve always looked for you in other guys, I thought maybe one day you would come back and tell me you were sorry and we would try things out- but that was 13 years ago, Jamie. I’m not the same person as I was back then. You can’t just expect me to accept your half-assed apology and things go back to how they were when we were kids. I have dreams, I have plans, and they’re not the same ones I told you about all those years ago. People change, that’s what I’m getting at. I’ve changed. You’ve changed. So maybe-”

Jamie will never know what you were going to tell him in that moment, as his lips smashed into yours. And there was no way you would pull back. You had only dreamed of this before, and the passion that had been locked into the kiss was more than anything you had felt before. It felt right, and you had never believed anything more in your life. 

This was how it was always meant to be. 

As Jamie pulled back for air, you couldn’t help but pull him in again, missing his touch already. 

“My room’s closer,” you whispered between kisses. You were glad it was late, and nobody was around, “I need you so fucking bad.”

“Darling, I’ve needed this for longer than you could imagine.” 

Once in your hotel room, you shut and locked the door. Throwing your top to the floor, kicking off your heels as Jamie loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he pushes you against the door, crashing his lips into yours once more. You felt one of his hands work to unbutton your jeans, the other one tangling into your hair and pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

Before you knew it, you were standing in just your bra and panties in front of Jamie, who was still fully clothed. He lifted your thighs, you wrapped them around his waist and he carried you to the bed. You giggled against his lips as you landed on your back, your head against the pillows. Jamie took his time to admire your body. Every inch. His finger traced over a tattoo on your hip, one you had told him you would get when you’re older. He smiled at the memory, and continued to kiss down your body, all the way to your knees. 

His hand cupped your heat over your panties, rubbing his palm into the area surrounding your clit. To this, you began rocking your hips, gasping at the sensation. He kissed your inner thigh and then moved his hand, placing a kiss over your clothed clit. 

You reached down to the man between your thighs, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. He pushed your panties to the side and ran his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal as he circled around your hole. You shivered at the feeling, wanting to take his wrist and shove his hand, pushing his finger into you. However, he pulled back and took off your underwear. Leaving you in just your lace bra. His warm tongue was flat against your sensitive nub as his finger eased into you. He groaned at how warm and tight you felt, imagining what it would feel like if his cock was buried deep inside you. 

“Jamie,” you panted, “stop teasing… we’ve waited long enough.” At this, he pumped his finger a few more times, attempting to stretch you out a little for him, and then pulled away. 

He took his shirt off, and fumbled with the button of his trousers, before pulling them down his legs along with his boxers. You sat up and unclasped your bra, and when you realised you were both naked in front of each other, you felt warm in your tummy. This is how it was always supposed to be. 

He came back to the bed, his throbbing cock pressing against your thigh as he kissed your bare chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples as your hand came down to pump him, rubbing your thumb over the tip, earning a moan from Jamie. 

When he released your nipple with a quiet pop, he moved back to your lips, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You felt the tip of his dick rubbing up and down your slit, before he began pushing himself into you. The stretch wasn’t too painful, once he was fully inside you he stopped his movements, just holding you close to him as your hands rubbed up and down his back. This is how it was meant to be. You both kept thinking to yourselves. 

As he began to move his hips, you took a deep breath. Taking in the moment, wishing it would never end. His pace picked up pretty quick, and you were soon raking your nails across his back. His hand held onto your hip and he flipped you over, so you were now on top. 

You sat there for a moment, kissing down his jaw before starting to move your hips up and down, clenching your walls around him. His hands came down to your hips, helping you find a steady pace, then one of them moved to toy with your clit, needing you to fall over the edge before he did. 

You were both moaning messes, your legs trembled as you approached your high, your breath getting faster. You took his hand that was playing with your clit and instead wrapped his fingers around your throat. Your eyes rolled back as you started moving your hips faster and faster, bouncing on his cock. And soon, you were seeing white. He continued to fuck into you as your orgasm washed over you, your body fell forwards against his so you were now chest to chest. He kissed your cheek, still continuing to pound into you, knowing that you were now clearly overstimulated, but he was oh so close to the edge, he just needed something…

“Cum inside me,” you whispered, “do it, please. I need to feel it.” He had never heard you sound so seductive, begging for his cum. However, it worked, and his thrusts started to get sloppy, until they stopped completely and his seed was coating your walls. 

“Fuck,” he groaned lowly, “I love you, y/n. I’ve always been so afraid of telling you, I was more afraid of rejection, but you need to know the truth. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you.” 

“I love you more, Jamie.” You smile, lifting your head up to kiss his lips, “please don’t leave me ever again, ever.”

“I’m never leaving again, baby. I promise.” He whispered, shifting his hips slightly to get comfortable, forgetting his cock was still buried inside you, “you’ll always be mine.”

—————————♡————————— 

13 years ago, 26th June 2007

“Jamie…” you began, passing him your cigarette, “do you ever think you’ll ever get married?” 

He choked at the question, causing you to laugh. 

“I don’t know, maybe one day. When I’m in my 30s or something, hopefully before I start balding!” He said, leaning over the balcony. You giggled again, almost anything he said had this effect on you, and now you were drunk you were more giggly than ever, “what about you?” he asks, blowing the smoke from his mouth. 

“I want to get married to my soulmate, if I have one-”

“Everyone has one! You won’t be the exception, y/n!” Jamie laughs, handing the cigarette back to you as you stand beside him, leaning over the balcony. 

“You believe in soulmates?” You ask, curiously. 

“Well, I have to believe in something! A person that loves me unconditionally, who always comes back to me and completes me isn’t so impossible, is it?” He asks dramatically, his hand over his heart. You giggled once more, not knowing whether he was being serious or not. 

“Of course not, Jamie.” You frowned sarcastically, patting his arm as he began laughing into your shoulder. 

“We better get back to the party, they’re going to be wondering where the fun went!” 

“No more drinking, okay? I don’t want to be dealing with you when you’re hungover again.” You say, plucking some confetti from his hair.

“It’s better than dealing with me when I’m drunk, I hope.” 

“Oh, much better, Jamie.” You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder, staring into the night sky.

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #i <3 friends to lovers

[catohphm]

Weekend With The Grays 2023 Day 2 Prompt - Welcome Ball III

Once again, thanks, @endlessly-cursed for a fantastic event! Prim belongs to her. I also have mentions of Malcolm by @gaygryffindorgal and Roxie by @mjs-oc-corner, who also owns Bella, Danny's ship partner. This short piece of content reveals a brief fashion emergency the couple has before the third Welcome Ball that becomes a funny story for later.

On the day before the Welcome Ball, Danny and Bella spent the hour before the 6 PM deadline re-exploring the spacious expanse of Winbourne. They found their usual guest room in the course of that. An attendant had been there to receive Danny's broom and the couple's rucksacks when they first landed down near the gates. Their belongings were left where they'd be staying during the solstice celebrations. 

Warm laughter and mingling took place that night and the morning before the ball. Friends took the time to catch up with each other and reminisce about the passing year. One friend in particular Danny and Bella hung out with was Roxie, a fellow auror-in-training of his. It was in part due to Roxie’s camaraderie and friendship that made the intense regimen a small part easier for her and Danny. She was best friends with him and even helped foster his romantic relationship with Bella. The former Ravenclaws were like siblings and were inseparable in their bond.

However, a small rush of panic took place for Danny and Bella before the ball. The necklace for her dress was missing before Lady Primrose and Lord Malcolm were to assemble everyone together in the hall.

She realized she had forgotten her necklace. Bella felt around for it and wasn't wearing it.

“Where did my necklace go, love? I had it when I showed it to Prim a few minutes ago.”

“I mean, we can wait until after the ball to find it.” offered Danny.

Bella immediately started for the small seating area where they chatted with Prim. It was adjacent to the dance floor. “Not that, I'd rather have it now so I don't have to worry later.”

He caught up to her. “Relax.” He checked his pocket watch. “Still five minutes until the ball starts. Let's relax, not get hasty. Can you remember where we sat.”

Bella took a deep breath. Alright, okay. Prim… was in the armchair there. We were on the sofa to the left.” Danny pointed to it. “So that's where you think the necklace should be?”

“Yes.” confirmed Bella. “I know Prim couldn’t have saw it because she left right after giving it back to me.”

They approached their sofa. There was no necklace, but Danny had a hunch.

“This is silly, but I think it sunk into the sofa. We should look between the cushions.”

“It's on me, Danny. I heard the announcement for everyone to gather on the dance floor and got up right away without a second. I never thought to look. 

He sent her a reassuring smile before they started digging in the couch. “All's well once we find it.”

Within a few seconds, Danny felt the neck loop and Bella’s hand! They looked up at each other with wide eyes. Both uttered “wa-lah!” They pulled it up together. It flew out of their grip into the hair and into her cupped hands. 

She looked at her love and giggled. “Now that's a new meaning to we found it together.”

Danny grinned. “Bravo, Bella. I'm glad for two, that's us.”

She was adamant now to get back to the dance floor. “That’s enough, silly Danny.” she joked as she ran her arm through his and motioned forward with him. “We got a short window, Let’s leg it back now, love.

After the Welcome Ball commenced, the couple expressed relief at their quick save.

“I dunno,  I would've probably ransacked the chairs and sofa if you hadn't helped me, Danny. Prim wouldn't-

“Worry not.” he finished. “I'm just happy we got your necklace back. You're splendid with it.”

Bella put her hand on her partner’s shoulder and remarked “Thank you, Danny. It's a special one-of-a-kind. Honestly I wouldn't know I'd react if it was truly lost.”

“You're quite welcome. Of course, you got to think differently when the belonging can't exactly be replaced.” he replied.

“I'm glad you understand. Now enough worrying about the past. Let's see what you got this great night.”

Danny reached his hand to Bella’s shoulder, and they began their dance moves. With nothing else clouding their thoughts, they took in the sight of seeing each other's beautiful face. No matter where and how fast they twirled, the blur was at bay, and the sights between them were clear. In a grand collage of music, sweet swaying souls in the arms of the festive hearth, Danny and Bella were at peace.

#wwtgsolstice23 #hogwarts legacy #hp victorian era #hp legacy era #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #danny gibson #primrose gray #malcolm stolberg-burke #roxie hailey #bella mcintyre