#in front of my friends and towards them too

[thepowerofswayze]

college art donaldson !!!

maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.

change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!

so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)

☆

beach trip

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch

summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.

☆

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”

You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.

When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.

What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.

Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.

Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.

Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.

Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”

Alright. That was your sign to go.

When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.

Art nodded.

Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.

It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.

More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.

Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.

You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.

Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.

He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.

“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”

Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”

Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”

The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.

“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.

“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.

The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.

Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”

You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”

He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”

“Alright, wanna try?”

Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”

You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.

You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.

He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.

When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”

“Hm?”

“Still scared?”

Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”

You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”

“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.

You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”

“What, don’t believe me?”

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.

“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.

He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.

You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.

“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.

You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?

… Maybe you were reading it wrong.

You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.

You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.

“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.

Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.

Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.

You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.

Fuck. Why did you run away?

When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.

You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.

The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.

You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.

Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”

You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.

Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.

You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”

He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.

You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.

“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.

You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.

He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.

Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”

You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.

His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.

When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.

You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.

“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”

That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”

He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”

Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.

You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.

He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.

You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.

Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”

He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.

With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.

Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.

You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.

With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.

Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.

Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.

Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.

And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”

He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”

You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”

You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”

“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson in stanford save me #art donaldson/reader #art donaldson/you #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers smut #challengers x you #mike faist x reader #mike faist smut #zee writes #my writing #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #ao3 #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #requests #asks

[kryptonitejelly]

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

-

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

-

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as she easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

-

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

-

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

-

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

-

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

-

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

-

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

-

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

���Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

-

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

[harrysfolklore]

when in italy - harry blurb

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"I swear is this way!" a very drunk Harry said, pointing out to the street in front of him, "I've walked down these streets a shit ton of times, I know how to get back."

"Harry, darling," Alessandro said, standing in front of him, "Let's just admit that we're lost and ask for directions."

"No! I know the way!" he stubbornly protested and headed the way he initially pointed, almost tripping on his own feet due to his drunk state.

Alessandro followed him, he knew how stubborn Harry got whenever he was drunk, and decided to trust him with the task of getting them back to their place in Italy for their holiday.

"Harry, I'm afraid we're walking in circles," Alessandro said once he noticed that they were back in the same place they were a few minutes before and they had been walking for almost 10 minutes now.

"Shit," Harry stopped on his tracks, "I think we're lost."

Alessandro rolled his eyes at his friend, "I'm going to ask for directions."

Harry sat on the sidewalk as he watched his friend walk towards some shops that were still open in the area, giggling to himself over the fact that he got lost in the place he called his second hometown (that, and the fact that he was completely wasted)

"Hey," a soft voice called for him, making him look up, "I'm sorry to bother you but I heard you and your friend are kind of lost, I live around the area and I could give you directions if you need them."

Harry blinked a few times, trying to get a proper look at the person in front of him in his drunken state.

And once he did, oh boy was he mesmerized.

The young woman standing before him had a warm smile, her eyes sparkling under the streetlights. She looked at Harry with a mix of amusement and concern, clearly recognizing him but choosing not to make a big deal out of it.

"Thanks," Harry slurred, trying to get up from the sidewalk and failing spectacularly. He giggled again, this time at his own clumsiness. "I think I need some help."

"Yeah, I think you do," she laughed softly and reached out a hand to help him up, "I'm YN, by the way," she introduced herself as Harry took her hand, his grip unsteady.

"I'm Harry," he replied, still looking at her with a dopey grin. "Alessandro!" Harry yelled out calling for his friend, who was making his way back to them, "I found this pretty girl that says she can walk us back home."

The girl felt her cheeks burn at his words, looking away from him in hopes that her blush would disappear.

"Thank you so much for your help," he said, "I'm Alessandro."

"Nice to meet you, Alessandro," YN said warmly, "So, where are you two trying to go?"

Harry attempted to answer but ended up mumbling incoherently. Alessandro stepped in, giving her the address of their holiday home.

"Oh, that's just a few blocks away," YN said, "I'll walk you there. It's no trouble."

"You're an angel," Harry proclaimed dramatically, leaning on Alessandro for support as they started walking.

"So, YN," Harry said as they walked down the street, "Do you live here, or are you just visiting?"

"I live here," she said, "Moved here a few years ago for work and fell in love with the place. It's a beautiful city."

"It really is," Alessandro agreed, "Thanks again for helping us out, Harry can be a bit stubborn when he's had a few too many."

"I'm not!" Harry protested, "I know this place like the back of my hand, I'm just dizzy right now."

"It’s alright, Harry," YN laughed softly at Harry’s protest, finding his drunken stubbornness endearing, "We all have our moments."

As they walked, Harry continued to lean heavily on Alessandro, but his attention was fixed on YN. "So, what do you do here, YN?"

"I’m a photographer," she replied, glancing at Harry with a smile. "I came here for a project and ended up staying. The city has a way of pulling you in."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, almost losing his balance again, making both Alessandro and YN giggle.

 "What kind of photography do you do?" Alessandro chimed in.

"Mostly street photography and portraits," YN explained. "I love capturing candid moments, the beauty in everyday life."

"That’s amazing," Alessandro said genuinely, "You must have some incredible shots."

"I do love my work. It’s always different, always exciting."

"Do you ever take pictures of drunk idiots lost in the streets?" Harry joked making YN throw her head back in laughter.

 "Not yet, but there's a first time for everything," YN chuckled.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," Harry grinned widely at her response.

"Maybe you will," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere.

As they neared the holiday home, Alessandro let out a sigh of relief. "Here we are," he announced, pointing to the familiar building.

"Thanks a million, YN," Harry said, his words slurring slightly but his gratitude clear. "You're a lifesaver."

"Glad I could help," she said with a warm smile. "Get some rest, Harry."

"I will," Harry said, "We should hang out sometime. Maybe when I'm not so… wobbly. Actually, can I have your number?"

She stood in her place for a moment, completely taken back by the fact that Harry boldly asked for her number.

And when she was about to give it to him, she remembered that he was drunk, and he probably wouldn't remember a single detail about the interaction.

"You should get some rest, Harry," she smiled, "And I need to head back to my house, It's getting late."

"Wait, you're not going to give me your number?" Harry said, a disappointed tone in his voice.

"Not tonight, Harry," she said gently, "But if we run into each other again, I'll consider it."

Harry pouted, about to protest again, but Alessandro gave him a nudge.

"Come on, Harry, let's get you inside. Thank you again, YN."

"You're welcome," she said, waving them off as they entered the building. "Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Alessandro."

"Goodnight," Alessandro replied, helping Harry up the stairs to their apartment.

Once inside, Harry flopped onto the couch, still thinking about the lovely girl who helped them get to their house in one piece, completely gobsmacked about how beautiful she was.

 "She was nice, wasn't she?" he mumbled.

"She was," Alessandro agreed, "Now get some sleep, Harry. You need it."

The next morning, Harry woke up with a pounding headache and a hazy memory of the previous night. He groaned as he sat up, trying to piece together the fragments of what had happened.

"Morning, sunshine," Alessandro greeted him, handing over a glass of water and some painkillers.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, taking the pills and the water, "What happened last night? Did we get lost?"

"We did," Alessandro confirmed with a chuckle, "And a lovely girl named YN helped us find our way back."

Harry's eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The memory of her pretty eyes, nice smile and interesting talk making immediately smile.

"YN... Oh, I asked for her number, didn't I?"

"You did," Alessandro said, "But she didn't give it to you. Said if you ran into each other again, she'd consider it."

Harry sighed, leaning back against the couch, pouting when he realized that he probably wouldn't run into the pretty girl again.

"You'll have time to pout about your little crush later," Alessandro spoke again, "Right now we need to go get some kitchenware, otherwise we won't be able to cook anything."

"Right, we were supposed to do that today," Harry said as he stood up, "Let me grab a quick shower and we can go."

Once he was ready, he and Alessandro headed out to the local shop to get the kitchenware they needed. The store was bustling with people, and Harry found himself scanning the crowd, hoping that he would run into YN again somehow.

He felt like a silly teenager with a brand new crush, but even in his drunken state he could tell that the girl was nice and genuine, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better.

He also thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 

"Still thinking about her, huh?" Alessandro teased as they walked through the aisles.

"Is it obvious?," Harry admitted, picking up a set of kitchen knives. "Can't help it mate."

They moved through the store, gathering the items they needed. As they approached the checkout counter, Harry's attention was drawn to a girl climbing up a ladder to reach something on the top shelf. The ladder wobbled, and without thinking, Harry rushed over to steady it.

"Careful there," he said, his hands firmly holding the ladder.

"Oh, thank you," the girl said her attention focused on grabbing a small box from the top shelf.

And when she looked down and her eyes met Harry's, he felt his heart jump.

"YN?" Harry said, almost in shock that it was really her.

YN's eyes widened in surprise and then lit up with recognition. "Harry! Hi again," she said, climbing down the ladder carefully.

"What a coincidence," Harry grinned, still holding the ladder to ensure it was steady. "Need any more help with that?"

"No, I think I've got it. Thanks, though," she shook her head, holding the box she had retrieved, "What are you doing here?"

"Just getting some stuff for our holiday home," Harry explained. "And trying not to get lost again."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't get lost in the store," YN laughed softly, "Thanks for holding the ladder."

"Anytime," Harry said, still grinning. "Are you buying some stuff too?"

"No, this is my friend's shop, I'm just helping out for a bit," she replied, "It's nice to see you again, Harry."

"Nice to see you too," Harry said, his tone sincere, "And I mean it. I was hoping I'd run into you again."

 "Well, here we are," she blushed slightly, looking away for a moment.

"Well, if it isn't our guardian angel," Alessandro walked over, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the girl.

"Just doing my good deed for the day," YN laughed softly, "It's good to see you're both in one piece after last night."

"I was pretty out of it, wasn't I?" Harry said, a hint of embarrassment on his voice.

"A bit, but it was kind of endearing," YN admitted, a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, I'm glad you thought so," he said, "I was worried I made a fool of myself."

"Not at all," YN reassured him, "It was actually quite charming."

Harry smiled, his eyes fixed on the girl. He still didn't understand how it happened, but he was completely smitten over her without even properly meeting her yet.

"We should checkout our stuff and head back," Alessandro said, "It was lovely to see you again, YN."

"It was lovely to see you too," she said, waving them off, "Have a great rest of your day, both of you."

Harry gave her one last smile before following Alessandro to the checkout. As they walked out of the store, Harry couldn't help but feel elated.

"I can't believe I ran into her again," he said, his excitement evident.

"Seems like fate," Alessandro teased, "Did you ask for her number properly now?"

"Shit!" Harry stopped on his tracks, "Shit! I forgot to ask for her number."

"Then what are you doing here, go back in there and ask her."

Harry didn't need his friend to say it twice before he was almost running into the store again, determined to get the girl's number once and for all.

He re entered the store, scanning the aisles looking for the girl, he spotted her at the counter, talking to another customer. He approached them, trying to catch her eye.

"Hey, YN," he said once she was done with the customer, "Last night I asked for your number, and you said that you'll consider giving it to me if we ever ran into each other," a small smile creept into the girl's face at his words, "And well, here we are, right?"

Harry felt like a total schoolboy, his hands almost sweating as he spoke. YN smiled even widely now, tilting her head to the side.

"You remember that, huh?" she asked.

"I could never forget," Harry matched her smile.

"Well, I did promise to consider it," YN said playfully, "And I think I've made my decision."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied with a smile, "I'd love to give you my number."

And once again, Harry felt like his heart could combust from happiness and excitement.

YN reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and handed it to him.

"There you go," she said, handing the piece of paper to him, "Now, don't lose this one."

"I won't, I promise," Harry said, his tone earnest. "Thank you, YN. I'll text you very soon."

"I'll be waiting," she said, her smile warm.

Harry waved as they left the store, clutching the piece of paper with YN's number in his hand. He couldn't stop smiling, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

Once he met Alessandro outside, he looked at him with a teasing smile.

"Looks like you got your wish."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the paper again. "And I don't plan on letting this opportunity slip away."

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[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIII

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, folks. This is the end of Painted Smile season I. I think this is a good way to end the first arc. No worry, Season II is already on it's way, nothing is going to change. I'm still going to post as randomly as I'm doing right now! But please, enjoy today chapter, I liked it.

You were singing in the car with the biggest smile you had on your face. Alastor was behind the wheel, smiling, humming the same tune as your voice. 

You were the next day after your wedding’s night. It has been fantastic. Whenever you were watching there were smiles and laughter. You saw most of the guests having a hangover the morning before you left with Alastor for your honeymoon. 

Alastor didn’t tell you where you were going but from the changing weather you knew you were going south, surely toward the beach. He was holding one of your hands on his lap. Since you have been married, you couldn’t stay away from each other, you wondered how it was going to be once your soul would be bond. 

You fell asleep in the car, waking up when Alastor kissed your lips. You blinked slowly before smiling at him. He stroked your cheeks before going to take the luggages. You got out of the car and looked around with a big smile, you could feel the sun and hear the sounds of the waves not too far.

You watched at the little house in front of you and saw a grandma coming out with a big smile.

“ You must be Mr and Mrs Sanglar, nice to meet you, I'm Paulette.”

“ Nice to meet you,” you shook her hands,” my husband was the one with whom you discussed, I guess..?”

“ Oh, yes! The gentleman rented this lovely house for four days! You are near the beach, not too far away from the city, there are beautiful landscapes to be seen!”

You felt Alastor’s hand on your waist as he shook the old lady's hand with his charming smile.

“ Exactly, nice to meet you, I’m Alastor Sanglar. I came here two weeks ago so everything would be perfect once I brought my wife. I believe I made the right choice when choosing you, right?” asked Alastor, looking at Paulette.

“ Of course! Here the keys, put them on the mailbox when you leave! Have a lovely time here, you are such a lovely couple!” said Paulette as she hung the keys to Alastor.

You waved her goodbye as she left. You turned toward Alastor with a beaming smile.

“ You took me to the beach?” you asked with glee as he nodded. You jumped on his arms as he laughed, spinning you around. You always wanted to go to the beach, feeling the sand under your feet, watching the sun’s reflection on the waves, oh you couldn’t wait! 

Once Alastor put you down, you ran toward the house. It was cozy, not really your kind of decoration but who cared, you weren’t going to stay much inside if not for sleeping. You looked at Alastor who put your luggages on the floor, smirking at you.

“ What do you want to do first?” He crossed his arms on his chest, looking patiently at you as you thought out loud about all the possibilities. You moved your hands toward the luggages and telekinesied them toward the bedroom.

“ I want to see the city ! No, the beach!” you clapped your hands as your eyes returned to their usual color. He smiled before stretching his hand toward you which you immediately took before leaving the house.

You let Alastor guide you and you smiled even more when you saw the beach. It really was close to the house Alastor rented. You took off your shoes, Alastor already holding them for you. You touched the hot sand with your bare feet. The feeling was strange but grounding. You made a few steps before looking at Alastor with a big smile.

“ Come with me !”

You walked toward the water, and stopped in front of the ocean. You weren’t afraid of the water but knowing you didn’t know how to swim, seeing such a large amount of water kind of made you uncomfortable. 

You felt Alastor behind you, hugging you from behind. You touched his arms while staring at the water, yelping when you felt the water touching your toes.

“ Come on my love, are you still afraid of water after all we have done together ?” he mocked you as he spinned you around.

“ I’m not afraid!” 

“ And I’m not married to you. There, now we are both liars.” he smirked at you.

You stuck your tongue to him before looking at the ocean. You didn’t have a lot of good experience with water, you almost drowned two times. You were afraid of dying after finally obtaining happiness.

You flinched when you felt Alastor pinched your waist and before you could scold him he gave you a beautiful seashell. It looked like a rainbow had been painted over it. You carefully took the gift and immediately tried to look for another one, you wanted to give one to Alastor.

You both walked on the beach, taking seashells you found pretty or funny. You watched as the sun was beginning to get down on the sky, the light reflecting on Alastor. He looked divine.

You smiled softly before smirking. He was your husband but also your special person which meant you could be a brat if needed. You carefully took a fistfull of sand as he was looking at seashells. 

“ Dear husband ?”

“ Dear wife?” he said, still not looking at you.

You smirked as you walked toward him. You saw his shadow looking at you, tilting his head. You made a sign for him to stay silent. You saw it grinning before throwing the sand at Alastor who took a step back.

“ Oh, are we already playing?” he said as he slowly lifted his head, looking at you.

“ Don’t we always?” you grinned before taking off. You laughed as you heard him running after you. It was a little difficult as you weren’t used to running on sand but a few seconds after you screamed as Alastor tackled you on the floor. You laughed as he tickled you with a mocking smile. “ It’s because you forget rule number one!” you shouted as you trashed underneath him.

“ Well, it seems like you forgot rule number two.” He kissed your forehead before standing up. You caught your breath as he tried to clean himself from the sand. You looked on the side, as you felt water shyly touching you with its waves.  You stood up and smiled when Alastor kissed your hand before walking back to the old lady’s home. 

“ What should I make ?”

“ You don’t touch anything, darling. Let me handle it.” He said once you entered your rented home. “ Go take a shower, you have sand all over you.”

“ Whose fault is that?” you smirked as he tilted his head, innocently. You went to take a shower and came back in the kitchen when you smelt the delicious scent. You looked as Alastor chopped down the meat with deadly precision.  You decided you wanted to tease him, today. 

You held your hand toward the knife and smirked when you saw the knife moving off Alastor’s hands, rushing toward you. Alastor turned toward you, with an annoyed smirk when he saw you.

“ I’m trying to cook, dear.”

“ I don’t see what is stopping you.” you smiled sweetly at him. He walked toward you, sliding his hand on your shoulder until he touched your hand where you were holding the knife.

“ We both know we like it more when I’m the one with the knife, right?” he smirked when he leaned toward you, taking the knife from your hand. You bit your lips as you remembered when Alastor cut you when you were in your, now soon to be, home. You let a shaky breath as you saw his pupils dilated, staring at you. “ Right?”

“ Right.”

“ Good.” he said before going back to his cooking with a satisfied smile. You pouted before turning on the radio to have music in the background. You sway to the music, singing when you know the lyrics. You approached Alastor, your hand behind your back.

“ I want to help…”

“ Well… Can you dress the table?” he pointed toward a cupboard that was too high for you to get. “ The plates are there,” he said with a smirk.

You gave him a smirk as you easily opened the cupboard with your telekinesis but frowned when you saw Alastor’s shadow trying to keep the plates inside the cupboard.

“ Come on now, bad boy, let go !” you said as you force on your power, the shadow mocking you as he kept the plates in its grapes. You heard Alastor chuckling which made you even more agitated to have those damn plates.

“ Having some trouble, darling?” he sneered at you.

“ No!” You could feel power getting stronger in your eyes but then the shadow smirked at you before letting the plate go. You gasped before crouching, avoiding the plate that flew toward you. You bit your lips as you heard the crash against the wall behind you. You lifted your head toward Alastor who was trying to suppress his laughter.

“ Well?”

You turned around and winced when you saw the plates in pieces on the floor. You pouted as Alastor took the pieces in his hands, laughing  . You stuck your tongue at the shadow which was pointing at you while laughing. You turned toward Alastor when you heard him wince and looked at the cut he made because of the broken plates.

“ Do we have bandages ?” you asked as you took his finger to see the blood pouring out the cut. It seemed like a deep cut…

“ No need, darling. It’s going to stop soon.” he smiled at you, ready to move on.

You didn’t know what happened but you licked the wounds.

You licked his blood.

You closed your eyes as your tongue moved around the cut, collecting his blood and only stopping when you couldn’t feel the cut anymore. You opened your eyes, feeling strangely aroused before looking at Alastor who was staring at you with red eyes.

Your eyes widened, taking a couple steps back before being tugged back against him.

“, I’m sorry ! I didn’t–!”

“ Well done, my love, you healed me.”

You looked at his finger and freezed when you saw his hand was as good as new. You winced when you felt a little pain on your finger and looked at your hand. Alastor and you looked as you saw your finger being cut, just like Alastor a moment before, without any weapon around. 

“ I see… You can heal me because you took the injury yourself.” he mumbled, not seeming happy with the news.

You stared at the cut and a few seconds after, the cut disappeared. You looked at Alastor with a smile.

“ I think the injury stayed on me the same time it has stayed on you. Which means, if you ever have a serious injury, I need to heal you as quickly as possible, if I don’t want to keep the injury for too long.” 

You tried to find Alastor’s eyes, he seemed to be in deep thoughts. You knew he hated the thought of you being hurt, but if you decided to have this power, it was to be useful, to be there when needed. You would still use this power, he couldn’t control you on that.

“ I see… Well, I just have to not get injured, right?” he smirked at you as he kissed the place where was the cut moment before. “ You are pretty in purple, but I like them better in red.”

You tried to find a mirror and once you did you find that your eyes had a purple hue. You did know that Baron Samedi 's colors  were black, red and purple, you didn't expect your eyes to change color. Well, it did happen in the basement…

“ Well, darling, would you please set the table?” you rolled your eyes at Alastor's cunning voice.

You ate as you both talked about everything that would pass through your head. You were talking about your new home, how you should decorate it, how were you going to go to town if Alastor was already out?

You jerked your head up when you remembered something.

“John came to our wedding.”

“ I saw. What did he want?” he said as he bit into the meat.

“ He gave me a letter.. Wait, it should be in my bag.” You stood up and walked toward the bedroom before going back to your husband with the letter. “ He said it wasn’t from him but from his parents. We used to be good friends and they loved me. I'm a little touched that they thought about me on my wedding day…” 

You sat on Alastor’s laps and opened the letter. Your eyes widened when you saw what was inside. You knew the family Felleur was healthy but you didn’t expect them to give you 1,000 dollars!

You showed Alastor who frowned when he saw it.

“ Oh my god, Alastor…!” you gleed as he took the money from you as you jumped off his laps. “ Isn’t it amazing? After all he puts us through!” you screamed in joy, jumping in the kitchen.

“ Mhn.. Well, if it was from John himself, I wouldn’t take it. But if it is from his parents and they cared for you, who am I to refuse it.” he smirked as he put back the money in the letter and gave it back to you.

You smiled happily and looked at the clock. It was almost nine.. You turned toward Alastor who was finishing his plate.

“ Let’s take a walk.” he chuckled at your words.

“ Going outside, at night, in an unknown town? Are you looking for trouble?”

“ Aren’t we the trouble?” you smirked at him.

He groaned as he tugged you toward him and kissed you feverishly, making your legs shaking. He let you go before standing up.

“ Put on your shoes, love, we are going for a walk.”

You smiled as you put your shoes on after clearing the table. You went out with Alastor, holding upon his arm. You decided to follow a trail that seemed to go away from the city, feeling adventurous, you begged Alastor to follow it.

He sighed but accepted your supplications. You smiled as you walked on the trail that was made of sand. You could still hear the waves so the ocean shouldn’t be far off. The trail began to be a slope. Once you reached the top you looked down the hills and saw the ocean, you weren’t too high but you still gulped.  You looked at the scenery that was beautiful, the stars were reflected on the water, making it seem magical.

“ Alastor–” You turned before flinching when you saw Alastor jump off the hills, falling into the water. You looked as he threw his head backward, getting rid of the water inside his ears. “ Are you crazy?” you shouted at him which made him laugh. “ Stay here, I’m going to take the trail to–”

“ Jump!”

You froze when you heard his words. You felt like you were taken back when you were eight years old and Alastor has asked you to jump off the swing. 

“ Alastor…” you bit your lips, that time when he asked you to jump, it was on the floor, not in the deep ocean, you could see Alastor wasn’t touching the bottom of the water which meant it was already too deep for you.

“ I’ll catch you.” He said it loud enough for you to hear.

You looked at him as he was watching you with a boyish smile. You already fell for Alastor on time, the second time should be easier, right? You took a deep breath and then.

You jumped.

You could feel excitement in your belly, the air slapping your face as the water was coming closer and closer. You wanted to close your eyes all the way down but they were focused on Alastor but once you saw the water too close you shut your eyes.

You felt Alastor’s arms as you hitted the water. You wrapped your arms around his body before he swam the both of you toward the surface. You gasped for air and looked around before laughing as you stared at your husband with a wide laugh.

“Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !” You looked at him with a wide smile, you did it! You actually jumped! 

You looked as Alastor hand cupped your face before kissing you. You closed your eyes as you kissed him back. You were in heaven. You were kissing him, with everything you have. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your breath began to get heavier. You leaned back with a shy smile.

He was looking at you with so much emotion, it was almost driving you crazy.

“ Let’s go back..”

—----

Next morning, you woke up in Alastor’s arms, both of you naked as the day you were born. You looked at Alastor’s sleeping face which was rare to come by. You kissed his lips before leaving the bed, taking a nightdress and began to prepare his black coffee. You flushed when you saw your reflection in the mirror.

Your neck, chest and thighs were bruised with bite marks and hickeys. You shook your head and decided to make waffles. You smiled when you heard Alastor leaving the bedroom, his footsteps coming toward you. You sighed in bliss when you felt him hug you from behind, he seemed still half asleep.

“ Why are you here…?” he asked in his deep voice.

“ I wanted to prepare breakfast.” You kissed his cheek and showed him what you prepared. He didn’t look, he just hugged you tighter. After a few minutes, he kissed your neck before leaning back and sat on the chair. You brought his coffee, looking at his face.

“ Are you alright, Alastor?”

“ I’m doing great, I was just thinking of the ritual, no worry.” he drank his coffee as you sat next to him. “ Why not go shopping today?” he asked you which you reply with a happy grin. 

You quickly took a shower and dressed up in a summer dress. You met Alastor outside the house and went to the city by foot, it was a 30 minute walk. You looked at the shop and smiled when you saw a sofa.

“ We should take it to our house, for the living room!”

“ My love, the house is big, remember? Bigger than the house we are staying at, right now. This seems a little small for the living room.”

“ What about the room that could be your office? If I remember there are three bedroom, one office room, the living room with a kitchen–”

“ Darling, I wouldn’t want this color in my office.” he grimaced as he looked at you.

“ But in the living room, yes?” you smirked.

“ … Please, no.”

You laughed as you kept walking, looking for things for your new home or for yourself. You find new clothes, a new hat for Alastor and some souvenirs for your family and friends. You ate lunch in a small restaurant that was delicious! Alastor didn’t like it much but he smiled when you said you could help him finish.

You walked back home, still full of energy! You looked at the full moon as Alastor was taking a shower. He came back to you, cleaning his glasses with a tissue.

“ Are you ready, my love?”

“ Mhn?”

“ Well, to bond yourself to me.” 

You stood up so fast you almost lost your balance. Was today the day? You nodded and followed Alastor in the bedroom. You looked around when you saw the symbols written on papers with ink.

“ I have everything we need.” He said with a confident smile. He walked back toward you with a blade. “ First, I need a place to mark you, if you don’t mind, dearest, I’ll choose your heart. I already carved an ‘A’ here, but you know I’m greedy. I’ll place my runes here…”

“ You have a rune for yourself ?” you asked him, curiously.

“ I created one, yes.” He tilted his head as you took off your dress, baring yourself at him. He walked toward you and cut you between your breasts. All you felt was pleasure, you held on his shoulder as you sighed in bliss. You could feel something sipping inside of you, it felt oh so pleasant.

“ Every time your heart beats, it is for me. This life is mine… “ He whispered against your skin. “Now,dear, unfortunately, you can’t carve  rune but you still have energy. Where do you want to place yourself on me.” he smiled at you with a teasing expression, watching you as you put your night dress on. “ My heart already belongs to you–”

“ Your forehead.”

“ Pardon?”

“ Well, we both know you always stay inside your mind for hours sometimes. I want to be the one who owns every single one of your thoughts.” You said confidently even if you could feel warmth on your cheeks. You advanced toward him, feeling power inside you. You kissed his forehead, closing your eyes. “ This twisted brain of yours will never work if my heart isn’t beating for you.”

You took a step back, looking at your husband who was staring at you with red eyes.

“ This is really cute, I don’t remember the last time I performed this curse!” you looked at Baron Samedi who was smoking his cigar.

“ Let’s finish this.” you heard Papa Legba. “ You need something that would be the material bond in the human world. “

You looked as Alastor took something of his luggages.

“ Eamon!” you shouted in surprise. 

“ Of course, dear. What is better to represent our bond than our fawn?”

“ He is a deer!”

“ Fawn. Now! Let’s begin.” he placed Eamon on the floor between the two of you. 

You felt Papa Legba energy coming inside you, you could hear your bone moves as he took place inside you. You watched as Kalfu slid inside Alastor easily. Your husband was now smiling in a humanly impossible way, his teeth yellowish. You watched as your body cut itself, letting the blood dripping on Eamon, Alastor doing the same thing.

Your mouth opened and you began to speak a language you didn't know, Alastor doing the same. You could see the symbols Alastor has written, moving in the air. They were glowing in a green light as the wind was moving the paper around you. 

You watched as Eamon began to light up in a reddish, greenish light. You hoped your deer wasn’t going to be destroyed…

You then felt a horrible pain in your chest. It was like something sharp was stabbing you, the blade always going deeper and deeper. You couldn’t move your body but the pain was real. You looked toward Alastor who seemed in pain as well. You could feel every beating of your heart, and each beating was sending knives in your veins. What was happening ? Were you dying ? 

You watched as Baron Samedi came toward you and wrote something in front of you which you didn't understand. He did the same with Alastor before stepping back.

You fell on the floor once you felt Legba leaving your body. You touched your chest, the pain was slowly going away but it hurted so much you were scared that if you moved it would come back.

“ Well, the curse is done. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, you are now bound forever and nothing can separate you, in the human and in the spirits realm.” you heard Kalfu smirked, clapping sarcastically. “ I can’t wait to see what you are going to be able to do, please, do not disappoint us.” Kalfu smirked before vanishing.

“ Both of you, be careful. With this, little lady, Alastor, see you again.” you heard Legba said before vanishing.

“ Please, enjoy what this bound has to offer!” laughed Baron Samedi before vanishing as well.

You lifted up your head and saw Alastor holding his head, his hands gripping his hair almost strong enough to tear it off. You crawled toward him and took one of his hands. You felt so tired you couldn’t talk but you needed him to know you were here for him. You were going to make it …

“ I know Darling, I just need a moment. My head is killing me.”

You blinked and touched your lips. Did you speak out loud? Sometimes you weren’t aware of it. You would just be thinking out loud and Alastor would tell you he could hear you which would make you blush.

But this time, you were sure you didn’t speak… Well, you could try, it could be funny at best.

Alastor, can you hear me?

“ Of course, you are next to me, but please, love, don’t speak so loud. My head hurts.” He groaned as he kept his hand on his head, gripping his hair while you were dumbfounded. No way… No fucking way ! You forced him to look at you, making him groan once more. “ What? Are you not okay?”

You kept his stare on you as you thought to him.

You tell me. I’m freaking out right now because I think you are hearing my thoughts.

You watched as his eyes widened, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes. Then, while you were trying to not freak out, something almost made you scream.

You heard Alastor voice in your head saying ‘ No fucking way..’. You stood up as you stared at him, he stood up at the same time as you.

“ Alastor…”

His smile widened before he rushed toward you and hugged you. He spun you around, laughing happily. You stared at him, lost but happy. He put you down and took Eamon with a smirk.

“ I don’t believe it. There aren’t a lot of archives about this spell but I sure didn’t know we could share our thoughts that way.” He put Eamon with care on the bed. “ My love, now Eamon is the material bound between us, nothing must happen to him, it could weaken what is linking us.” 

He laughed like a mad man, that should scare you but you just smiled softly, looking fondly at your husband.

“ Oh my love, curse of my sanity, I can’t wait to kill while hearing all of your thoughts!” he laughed, bending his body backwards, his hand hiding his eyes. “ I have a list of new victims, it only needs us to erase them from earth!”

You didn’t think about it, but if it meant hearing Alastor thoughts when he was killing or making love to you.. You flushed as bloodlust and lust took over you. You began to giggle as your husband kept laughing.

What a good day !

You walked toward him as he lifted you up in the air. You laughed as you both danced in the small bedroom while laughing. You stopped when you saw something.

“ Alastor…”

“ Yes?”

“ My shadow…”

He turned his head and both of you watched as your shadow was waving at you with a hideous smile, Alastor’s shadow next to it.  You tilted your head and the shadow did the same. You smiled.

Did the bond make you ‘steal’ one of Alastor's powers? You looked at your shadow, who was looking at Eamon with curiosity.  Alastor’s shadow was following yours, tugging at your shadow's hair before rushing somewhere else while your shadow was running after him.

“ Well… If you want it to go back to your shadow, just think about it.” Said Alastor, his red eyes shining with a teasing smile.

You did what he said and your shadow came back to you without a fuss, going back to normal. You looked at Alastor, your eyes as red as him. He tugged you toward him, the both of you smiling widely at each other.

“Oh this will be fun.”

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#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction #human alastor #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fan fiction #hazbin hotel #painted smile #painted smile series

[najlepsiznajlepsich]

cardigan

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, angst (a bit), lando and reader are teenagers (for the most part)

author's note: im sorry for any mistakes, or if i missed a warning, this was supposed to be really inspired by Taylor Swift's cardigan but i got kind of lost in the plot lmao

*

Oh. How you loved this. Giggles of you and your friends were echoing through the house. No one even had an idea of what they were talking about, and half of the words coming out of their mouths were slurred. You weren’t sure about what was going on. Except for Lando’s burning touch on your shoulder. It felt too good. 

Being completely lost in the moment, you nearly didn’t even hear your phone ringing. You reached for it and walked into a different room. You didn’t read the name of the caller, and you should’ve, because when you picked up, your mom started berating you. 

“Mom. Don’t worry I’ll come home in a few hours.” You blurted out. “Oh no, young lady. You’re coming home right now!” she raised her voice and continued. “When you’re an adult you can do whatever you want! But you’re not, so you’re coming home!” You sighed. Really? “Okay. I’ll be home in a bit.” 

She hung up and you walked back to where your friends were having the time of their lives. “I’m going home, guys.” You said and grabbed your jacket that was thrown over the sofa. The ‘why’s’ of your friends were filling your ears. “I’ll drive you.” Lando jumped up and dragged you out of the house. 

“For who did you get all dressed up like that? I’m surprised you can even walk in them.” Lando commented on your heels as they clicked against the cobblestone path. You just giggled and sat in the passenger’s seat. “You seem too happy, did you want to get out of there or something?” you asked as he started driving. 

“Well, you know I prefer 1 on 1 conversations. That was too much chaos.” “I doubt that you party lion.” He smiled. The car fell into a comfortable silence. As you stopped at a traffic light you felt Lando’s eyes scanning you. 

“I’ve never seen you wearing that t-shirt. Is it ne-“ “Oh no. It was my mom’s.” You cut him off and giggled. “Vintage. So adorable.” You both exploded into laughter at the mean girls reference. He stopped in front of your house and you wished that the ride would last longer. You thanked him and got out of the car. 

You felt his eyes following your silhouette as you walked inside. The front door shut and you leaned against it. “Mom already went to sleep,” your dad said and you exhaled deeply. “Oh, Lando drove you home. He’s such a nice young man isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes and rushed towards your room. 

Lando knew you too well. Putting on those high heels was one of your biggest regrets and they were kicked off immediately. You could barely bring yourself to remove your makeup and change your clothes. But somehow you did. Finally, the bed sank under your body and your mind was already drifting off. 

Your phone beeped. Lando. 

Hope you can hang out next weekend :). 

Oh shit. You totally forgot you’re turning 18 next weekend. 

I def can, mom didn’t say anything. You giggled to yourself as you sent the message. 

She was asleep. Wasn’t she?  

You burst out laughing.  Yeah, and? 

His message popped up immediately: Go to sleep Y/N. Well, why argue.

*

That week went by too fast. School didn’t give you a chance to take a break. But, Saturday rolled around, and now you’re 18. Isn’t it crazy? Only, if you could actually enjoy it. 

There were so many family members in your house, half of them you didn’t even know. And now you were thinking if your mom hasn’t just turned your birthday party into a family reunion. It was too boring. The time went by even slower than when you were in school. You just did your job. Talked to everyone, you even smiled at them politely. 

After a long long time, it was finally silent. Just you, your dad and your mom. And you probably jinxed it, because your phone started ringing. “Ugh, another cousin calling.” You thought before you picked your phone up. Could not be more wrong. 

It’s Lando. 

“Yeah?” you picked up. 

“Don’t you want to go somewhere? Somewhere out?” He spoke slowly.

 “Oh. Uhh, sure? Where are you right-““Outside your house, come out.” He laughed into the phone and hung up. 

You grabbed the closest thing you could put on and walked outside. Your mom’s cardigan. Your feet carried you outside, while your brain wasn’t sure of this. Whatever. 

“Hii!” Lando yelled and hugged you. “Happy birthday! Come on!” He started walking away instantly. “Hey! Where are we going?” You ran after him. “Don’t you want to relax by the lake?” He said, shutting you up immediately.  

Like always, it was quiet. Ducks floated on top of the lake and some insects you weren’t able to recognize flew around you. This was so peaceful. It was like a whole new world. That's just what you needed.

“Look at what I got you,” Lando spoke up. He pulled out two small bottles of alcohol from his pocket and threw one into your lap. “Come on” he muttered as he unscrewed the cap off his bottle. You let him open yours too. 

“I really want to see your reaction,” he laughed as he handed it back to you. You didn’t waste any time as you brought it to your lips and took a sip. Your nose scrunched instantly, and that’s all Lando needed to burst into laughter. “Try mine.”

One sip turned to two, and then it went downhill pretty quickly. “Come on Lando!” You whined as you dragged him behind you. “I have to get home!” You giggled. He pulled you into a hug, which you didn’t mind. Your whole body was cold, and he had a warmth you couldn’t explain. 

It was dark already and the only light that illuminated you was a streetlight right above you. “You’re so warm. I’m freezing.” Lando grunted. Huh? “No, you’re the hot one.” You forgot how to think, and it was obvious by now. “Wow. Thank you.” He just chuckled while you were endlessly defending yourself. Ugh, it’s not like he’s a genius when he’s drunk too. 

And just right after you both calmed down, a song started to play from a nearby house. “How loud did he put it on, if we can hear it here?” You burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh. Dance with me.” Well, who were you to deny that request?

His touch was a tingling sensation on your skin, something you wished you could feel forever. He danced slowly, probably to not make you throw up from the moves. And while you felt sick, it all felt like a beautiful dream. Something not real. It was just too good. 

“Lando…Home” you whispered into his neck, and without a protest he started walking you home. Supported you, caught you when you stumbled, then opened the front door of your house. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the floor. “Okay, goodnight, pretty.” He said in a hushed voice as he shut the door behind him and blood instantly rushed into your cheeks.

“Had a nice night out, young lady?” Your tired dad walked out of the kitchen and went to pick you up from the floor. “Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested and you exhaled. “Please don’t tell mom, please dad.” “I won’t, just go to bed.”

*

And it’s Monday again. Ugh. You hated your Monday classes, especially physics. Your brain couldn’t understand anything at this hour. You nearly fell asleep numerous times, and your blinking turned into microsleep. Your phone, which wasn’t charged from last night, vibrated in your pocket and you reached for it.

Of course, it's Lando. 

Are you free after school?

Yeah. You typed out a quick response and stuffed your phone back into the pocket. 

And until lunch you were walking around with the biggest grin on your face. Like a little kid with a lollypop. Except, you needed to show Lando's response to your girls.

I'll wait for you in front of the school, ok? You read the message aloud to them, who couldn’t refrain themselves from aww-ing. “He definitely wants you.” Your best friend giggled and you rolled your eyes. A chorus of agreement came from all sides of the table. “We’re just friends, I swear.” “Yeah… But you’re in love with him.”

*

Finally, out of the school. Seeing Lando wait there for you made your heart jump a bit. Maybe your friend was right. “Come on, they're waiting for us.” Lando smiled and started walking. “Who? If I can ask?” “Oh, right, just some of my friends.”

Well, you found out that you have a different definition for “some friends”. You expect just your closest friend group. Not another 10 people. And you had no idea who they were. You and Lando sat down on the grass next to them. 

“I need to do my homework.” Lando proclaimed and you burst out laughing. “You? Homework? Good joke.” “It’s actually important, you know?” Lando said with a quiet voice while everyone was laughing. But they moved on from that really quickly. Now they were gossiping about some random people.

Lando kept scribbling into his notebook. Scribbling a whole lot of nothing. “What the hell are you doing?” You whispered and he shushed you. “I don’t want to be here.” He muttered and started doodling on your arm. “Aren’t these your friends?” “I don’t like them.” You scoffed but didn’t question him further. 

As you were sitting there for longer and longer, more messy stars and hearts appeared on your arms. Lando was studying you instead of that homework. “When did you get this one?” He asked and you could hear the tiredness in his voice. “Remember when I tried to learn how to skateboard?” He giggled. “No way.” He yawned, and you continued telling him that story.

It didn’t take long and he was already sleeping on your shoulder. How were you going to get him home? You answered your own question almost instantly. Well, that’s just a future you problem. 

*

Lando calling you to hang out on the weekends became a routine. A comfortable routine that you loved and appreciated. Until it stopped. Unannounced. And you had no idea why. The thought lingered around in your mind. Maybe, he just got bored of you.

Then one weekend hangouts were revived. He called you. Your heart stopped for a second. 

“Hi. You wanna go somewhere out?” he asked, the connection breaking towards the end of the sentence.

“Sure.” You said into the phone, trying so hard to be cool. 

“I’ll come pick you up in 10.” He blurted out and ended the call. 

You haven’t talked to him in so long. Now he sounds totally different. You put on some random clothes that were thrown over the chair and bolted outside. Surprisingly, Lando arrived sooner than he promised. No problem.

But just as you were about to open the passenger door, you noticed a girl sitting there. Okay, so now you’ve been demoted to the backseat. You jumped there and Lando turned around to look at you. 

“Okay, so the teachers said I have to show her around the town. You don’t mind being my assistant, do you?” Lando explained the situation very quickly. Too quickly. “No, not at all,” he smiled and the girl smiled back.

It was the foreign exchange student. You had English with her. The reason you remember her is just because she always talked about her weekend with Lando. Yeah, you were jealous. And what? 

He started driving around showing her all your spots. Where you had the best times of your lives. And now she knows them too. Ugh. Your secret spots weren’t secret anymore. And of course, she has to be the one who sees them. While sitting in your seat.

You were seething and you hated it. This wasn’t fair. You just couldn’t take it. 

"Lando, can you drop me off home… My mom wants me to do something." He responded calmly. "Sure." Fuck. He really had no idea. As soon as that car stopped by your house, you jumped out. No goodbye, no see ya.  Nothing.

You stomped your way inside and when the door shut behind you. Tears poured out of your eyes. And for once in your life you were happy your mom wasn’t asleep when you came home. She just hugged you, not asking a single question. “Boys are assholes, that one definitely did not deserve you.”

*

The rest of your high school life went by fine. You and Lando stayed friends, just not as close as before. Somehow, he could not figure out why. 

The graduation day was something you were looking forward to. You liked having someone by your side, but no one could actually understand you. So the plan was to ghost them. Maybe too harsh, shame that you didn’t give a fuck. You were waiting for your parents so you could go to lunch together. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Lando. Of course, it has to be him. “So… This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but…” You rolled your eyes and waited for whatever shitty idea he was about to introduce you to.  “Do you want to travel around the country with me?” He asked, not sure if you were even listening. “I have classes I don’t have to attend and I’ll do my assignments on the road.”

“I can’t do that, are you crazy? I got into a good university and I won’t do some random shit with you, just because you want to.” You snapped at his unawareness. “I actually value my education-“ “I do too, please, it would be so fun.” He whined out. “How about you go ask your perfect best friend. I’m sure she'd love to go with you” His eyes went wide. 

“Is this all because of her?” “All? What is that?” you asked, clearly mocking his voice. “You’re avoiding me, not wanting to hang with me and now you’re a bitch about it. I didn’t know you were so jealous.” He scoffed and walked away from you. 

“Enjoy that dumb trip!” You can’t believe this is how your friendship ends. You can’t believe that you’re still in love with that asshole.

*

And as pathetic as that sounds, every day of your university life you regretted saying no to Lando. That little crush didn’t go away. Your mom just couldn't stop showing you photos from his social media accounts (that you had blocked). And it was like he was haunting you. 

When you were walking through your hometown, you were thinking about the good memories you made. 

Men who wore cologne like his made you stop in your tracks. 

The conversation on that graduation day was like a song you couldn’t stop playing in your mind. 

You wished that the stars he drew on your skin were permanent tattoos.

You cursed him out for not being more convincing that day. You cursed out that girl for blinding you with jealousy. You didn’t see the truth because of the dark green haze.

He was everywhere, but still nowhere. You were sure you had developed hallucinations by now. 

And there wasn’t a night you weren’t thinking about what could’ve happened if you said yes. If wouldn’t cut him off. If you both just matured and stopped acting like nothing was wrong. If you started dating instead of tiptoeing around a label. 

Fuck. If only you weren’t dumb teenagers.

*

Back home for holidays. And everything reminded you of him. Even your house wasn’t safe. Your parents decided to visit your neighbors, and you swore you’d go crazy in that time. 

It’s hard being always correct. All the photos you hung up on the wall were with Lando and you didn’t know if to smile or cry. But, you decided to stop emotionally destroying yourself and went to the living room. You couldn't handle being in own room. That sounds crazy. Just as you got comfortable, the doorbell rang over the opening of your favorite TV show. 

Aren’t they home just too soon? Maybe they just forgot something. But as you opened the door you nearly got a heart attack. 

Lando.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice soft like never before.

“You’re here. I can’t believe it.” He stammered.

“Of course, I’m here. Why are you so shocked?” you responded. It was like both of you were on thin ice. One bad word or move and you’ll both fall apart.

“I’ve been trying to apologize to you for so long, but you’re never here.” His voice trembled. 

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Your eyes were full of tears and a smile formed on your quaking lips.

“Of course, I always loved you.” 

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

The Portrait of Regulus Black

How his features change over time and what it meant for the people around him. / How Molly and Sirius finally come to an understanding in front of a dead boy's portrait.

Regulus clearly grows up to be beautiful. But as a kid, all the sharp features the cousins shared didn't sit quite right on his small baby face. So Regulus, until puberty, looked weird. He wasn't ugly but he looked like a cut and paste collage of aristocratic features that made him come off as an uncanny valley child. People look at him and register the features that should all but make a most precious kid. But it never feels quite right. People, instead, are unnerved by the hallmarks of beauty waiting to settle down on a too small face.

Narcissa was exactly the same as a child.

Regulus starts getting looks from girls and the occasional boy at 13. By 15 people know who Regulus Black is, he's asked out often and sent letters in distressing frequency (not that his friends don't have a good time reading them all and eating the treats that come with it). James looks at him like he's trying to figure him out, Regulus doesn't care. James asks him if he's going to this week's meeting for Slug Club and if he'll be staying for tea after — Regulus walks right past him.

James starts looking at the people coming up to Regulus like they offend him and it's Barty who calls him out on it.

"Oi, Potter! Are you jealous Reg's getting all the attention or do you want to line up yourself?"

Regulus merely rolls his eyes at his friend, always looking for a reason to piss off his brother's mates. Meanwhile, a rabbid James is held back by Frank.

Eventually, James tells him that Regulus had always been pretty to him. That he was 12 and Regulus was 11. And all James could think about, was how not to embarrass himself so he could impress Sirius' doll of a little brother. Now, everyone wants a piece of Regulus, James sourly points out. He was there first.

He gets a kiss on the cheek for the sulking and James chases after the lips that dare to call his woes, cute.

By 17, the Dark Lord takes notice. By 17, Rabastan starts approaching him... To take him under his wing, he says. By 17 Greyback starts staring. Tells Regulus that boys like him should be careful not to end up alone.

By 18, a portrait of Regulus Black sits on the wall of 12 Grimmauld Place — immortalizing his beauty and youth.

At 35 Sirius looks up at his brother, his portrait asking him, hopefully, if he'll finally be staying home for the holidays, perpetually stuck some time in the past where he and Sirius still came home together but went to Hogwarts separately. He looks at his brother, or what remains of his existence, and says yes, he'll be spending the rest of it with Regulus.

The Order, ever curious of the dark, once mighty, Black family (though ashamed to ever outwardly admit it) will occasionally look up at the portrait of the dead heir — final whereabouts, unknown... Body, still yet to be found. His death, a debate of his detraction or failure. Ever unresponsive, wary, and snobbish except when Sirius is the one asking him about his day, only then will the painting answer.

The painting haunts the people who come over with business to discuss among other members. The young boy's features speak of unfinished growth creeping towards adulthood. Maturity never achieved.

Molly, in a rare moment of peace with Sirius, sits with the once heir as she finds him looking up at the portrait, late at night, lost to memories in his childhood home.

"Do you miss him?"

"People expect me to say no, you know? Youngest Death Eater, and people say he was quite eager to join up, my fool of a brother."

"That's not what I asked. I miss my brothers and nothing could ever take that away from me. They were my brothers. Sometimes, my grief is all I have left of them."

Sirius sighs, "And he was my brother. I wish I could've seen him grow up. I'm 35 and he's 18. It haunts me, Molly."

There's nothing much else to say after that.

"He's beautiful," she says, looking up at the painting, at the imitation of a young man looking at them with apprehension, no — looking at her with apprehension and looking at his brother with mild confusion. As if to say, 'who is she Sirius and why is she here?'

"I remember him, quite a few years below me. Walking like a prince through the halls of Hogwarts. Haunting its walls, with James behind his heels."

"They thought no one ever noticed," Sirius says.

"You did."

"I'm his brother and James was my best friend. He never talked about Regulus, he kept him like a secret." Sirius recounts with an odd tone to his voice.

"I watched. Waiting for James to act in shame, I was waiting for a reason to start a fight. Regulus and I weren't talking but I wasn't ashamed to be his brother. If James was ashamed, I would've stepped in between them and put an end to it."

Molly waits, realizing she's seeing Sirius anew for the first time. She and Sirius never got along well and a good part of it was because she thought he was rash. Impulsive and blindly inconsiderate of others. She never liked that he kept looking for James in Harry. Wanting to relive the past. But sitting with him like this, hearing how much he knows when people don't expect much of him at all, the way he speaks of his brother — it's sobering.

"I figured out the reason for James' silence. Why there was never a hint or mention of whatever fleeting relationship he had with my brother. It wasn't shame, it was selfishness. Greed. He loved Lily, fully! No one could ever say he didn't. Knowing what I knew didn't change that. But Regulus was his to keep. And he kept him all to himself.

I do the same thing with Harry. I talk about James. I share James with him because James was never mine the way Regulus was mine. All my best memories with Prongs I tell him and I watch his eyes light up — hungry for more of the father he never met. Lily too, of course. But Regulus? I—" Sirius pauses. He tries to say more but can't. Regulus was his brother.

"It's so hard."

"Bill asks me about them too. Fabian and Gideon. I share with my kids my grief because it's easy to admit loss. But how we spent our childhood together? How brave their uncles were... Charlie asks why I wouldn't hang pictures of them up on the family mantle, why I keep their smiles in a box."

But they were her brothers.

The silence they share is one of understanding. What a price they had to pay to finally see each other eye to eye.

"Regulus would've been devastating, wouldn't he? Growing up into a man."

Sirius laughs. A bark more than laughter, really.

"I'd like to think he wouldn't have been. At least not by that much. I'm the good looking one, remember?"

"I don't think you'll stand for my answer. But I'm sure people weren't too hung up on you leaving Hogwarts. I think the students were just fine."

#regulus black #sirius black #james potter #the black brothers #jegulus #starchaser #marauders era #regulus headcanon #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era headcanons #hp marauders era #hp fanfiction #my writing

[thefallennightmare]

Can you do a headcannon where noah and reader are just friends but they both have feelings for each other and they don't know how to tell each other and there really bad sexuall tension between the two of them???

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka

"Son of a bitch," you muttered while trying to hang up a shirt on the tallest point of the merch wall.

Noah and Steven were helping you set up the merch table before the show tonight and Noah couldn't help but watch you with a gleam in his eye.

"Need help, Y/N?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"I've got it, thanks," you said, still struggling.

Noah shrugged. "Fine by me. I've got a perfect view from down here."

With your position on the ladder, both of the guys did have the perfect view of your ass in your tight jeans so you gave a little extra wiggle of your ass.

"Too bad you can't touch it," you teased after finally getting the shirt hung up.

Back safely on the floor, you patted Noah's chest as Steven watched the two of you.

It had been like this for months, ever since you joined the Bad Omens team as their merch girl.

You and Noah had feelings for each other, everyone could see it.

But neither of you would act on it because you wanted to remain professional.

Plus the flirting was fun.

Later that night, after the show, Noah was there again helping you tear down the booth.

"Do you know how many times I got hit on tonight?" You asked.

Noah shrugged while folding up the shirts.

"Every single guy had some comment about how my ass looks or how I'm too hot to be a merch girl. Some guy even asked for my number in front of his girlfriend," you shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't know why they even think they have a chance," Noah snorted before taking a step toward you.

Your ass it the table behind you and you gazed up at him. "Yeah, you think so?"

Noah licked his lips, boxing you in against the table with both of his arms on either side of you.

"I know so, angel."

Your stomach flipped at his nick name for you.

"Why? Because you think you have a chance with me?" You shot back with a teasing smirk.

He breathed in your scent, burring his face in the crook of your neck. "Admit it, you want me."

You let out a breathy moan when you felt his warmth breath on your neck and your fingers played with the ends of his hair.

"Not even in my dreams," you playfully pushed him away with a wink.

You spent the rest of the time packing up the merch table with Noah, talking and joking around with each other. But never admitting your feelings for each other.

Deep down, you both were afraid of ruining your friendship.

But off to the side, Jolly and Matt watched the two of you and shared a knowing look.

Matt pinched his eyes shut when he noticed Noah watching your ass when you bent down to pick something up. "They're the only two who can't feel the sexual tension between them."

Jolly laughed in agreement. "Maybe we should set them up to share a room at the hotel tonight. Finally, get them past this phase of just pretending."

Matt's face broke out in a wide grin and he pulled out his phone.

"Matt, I was joking," Jolly said while following Matt, hoping to stop whatever wicked plan he had in mind.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens headcannons #noah sebastian headcannons #thefallennightmare

[3amfanfiction]

MDNI tw: baby trapping and manipulation. GazxReader fluffy-dark one-shot.

Kyle is ready for a baby, so when he sees his chance he just can’t resist. And he knows how he’s going to make you an enthusiastic, albeit unknowing, participant.

He was ready.

It’d been a long time coming; you and he had had your ups and downs and always came out stronger on the other side, together. Always together. It was you and him until the end.

You were such a perfect partner for him, practically handmade to fill in all his rough edges and he never let you forget how much he adored you. He bragged about you any time you came up in conversation and wasn’t shy about crowing your achievements from the rooftop.

Your friends were over the moon at your relationship. Every time you met up for brunch or movie nights you would field at least 3 comments about where they could find their own head-over-heels partner.

You had been sick for a few weeks before you finally went to the doctor.

“Tuberculosis.” you rasp to Kyle on the other end of the phone. “They prescribed me some heavy duty antibiotics called rifampin that are the size of horse pills!” you hold the prescription bottle up towards the light and shake the tablets around in disbelief.

Kyle just laughs into your ear, well aware of how much you disliked needing to take large pills. It had been brought up every time one of you got sick throughout your relationship. You insisted that they got stuck in your throat and stayed there for hours before finally dissolving, no matter what Kyle tried to say. He used it as an excuse to brew your favorite tea and pamper you more than usual whenever you had to take them, so he never tried to argue too hard.

“I miss you . . . wish you were here,” you croak, making your way to the couch to relax and try to catch your breath. Your lungs felt physically tired as you tried to breathe. It was a unsettling feeling. Panting lightly, you pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and cocooned yourself, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I know sweetheart. I wish I was there too. I would make you that soup you like and rub your feet while we watched a movie. You wouldn’t have to get up for anything.” The line crackles and breaks for a few moments before clearing up again. “Just a little bit longer, love, and I’ll be able to come home. It’ll be before you know it.”

“I miss you Kyle.”

“I miss you, sweetheart.”

. . .

When the call ends Gaz immediately looks up the medication you said you were prescribed. Rifampin. He’s never had tuberculosis and he wants to verify that this is the standard treatment and if there are any side effects to watch out for. While he isn’t in the country right now he’d figure something out if you needed him back quickly.

Fingers which had been swiping steadily, reading warnings and side effects with the same attention to detail as to mission reports providing intel before an operation, slowed and then stopped as he continued to read. After a moment his screen goes dark and your future shifts and locks into place on the other side of the world.

. . .

It was edging into evening just over a week later when the front door swings open and in steps Kyle. You immediately throw yourself into his arms and begin fussing, hugging him and checking for any new injuries at the same time. He just laughs and squeezes you back tightly. “I’m fine love, just happy to be able to hold you again.”

After sorting out the immediate concerns you tumble into bed, cuddling face to face and sharing a pillow, sharing breath. You’re not sure who kissed who first but you’re both tied for ardor. Your tongues tangled together as hands slide under clothes and down pants. Before things got too involved you pulled back to look at him. “You’re going to have to pull out. This medicine can affect my birth control so you can’t come inside me okay?”

He nodded eagerly as he began to pull your shirt up your torso, fingertips dragging along skin in their own version of a kiss. “Pull out, got it.” He said distractedly, glancing down at the skin and softness he was uncovering. Before you knew it you were both naked and he moved his way down your body, taking his time to slowly work you up. Spending time nibbling along your coller bones, sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat, tonguing around your neck to the other side to continue.

What follows is hours of pleasure and torture in equal measure. Kyle has never been a stingy lover but tonight it’s like he has something to prove. He brings you to your peak again and again and again . . . and then he holds you there.

While the two of you had dabbled in edging before this, it had never been to this extreme. Tonight had been hours of cruel pleasure, the sheets under you were damp with sweat and you were sobbing with your hands buried in his hair.

“Pl-please,” you hiccup on a sob “I need to come. Please let me-let me come.” you beg him, trying to maintain eye contact through your tears. He currently had three fingers buried deep in your cunt and his lips suctioned to your clit.

His lips pop off with a slurp and you yelp.“Do you need it, baby?” He grins with a feverish gleam in his eyes. “You ready to come?” You nod eagerly, blinking and causing the tears to spill over your lash line.

“Please, please I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please let me come.”

“God you beg so pretty baby. Okay, but I want to come together.” He climbs to the head of the bed and lays on his back. He grabs you by the hips and helps you climb on top, slotting himself back at you entrance. “Come on, up on top love, thats it.” he babbles as you sink to the base and gasp at the feeling of being stuffed full. “Yes, Just like that, just like that.” is wrung from his throat as you squeeze him tightly.

You begin to pump your hips, pulling away from him before bringing yourself back down but you quickly lose steam. It had been hours at this point and you were on your last legs.

“I know.” Kyle coos condescendingly, brushing the back of his knuckles over your cheek, wiping away tears, sweat and drool. “I know sweet thing, you’re so tired. It’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ll help you.”

He reaches both hands down to your hips, digging his fingers into soft skin and plush rolls. His fingertips causing divots where they press into the fat of your hips. He pulls you into a grinding motion, “Doesn’t that feel good baby? Me holding your hips just right, helping you grind back and forth?”

You nod dumbly, brain fried and only able to think of how good he feels inside you. He drops one of his thumbs down to find your clit, giving it steady, smooth circles to help you finish.

“Yeah? Right there? I can tell it’s good just by your face. I love that fucking face that you’re making.” His mouth begins to run, words dropping out with no prior planning. “If I could tattoo it behind my eyes and carry it around with me for the rest of my life I would die a happy man. You make me so damn happy baby.” He grunts as he begins to move your hips faster, grinding you down firmly against him. “I want you forever, do you hear me? Forever. It’s you and me okay? Yeah, you’re getting close? I am too, love. Mmmm fuck. Just like that, keep rocking your hips baby and you’re gonna make me come. God you’re taking me so well. Tucked up, deep inside you.” His jaw clenches and he pulls you as tightly against him as he can.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come love. You’re gonna make me come.” His words stutter to a close as you continue to grind, chasing the final edge. You could feel it tingling up your legs, across the backs of your thighs.

“Im so close,” you pant, head tilted back, eyes closed, unable to think of anything accept the feel of his cock bumping into your soft walls, creating sparks of pleasure. “Don’t stop baby. I’m so close. I can’t stop. Please”

A groan punches out of Kyle and his grip turn tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises to find in the morning. “If you don’t want me filling you up, you gotta get off baby. I know you’re close but you’re gonna make me come. You told me to pull out just to, just to be safe. I can’t-i cant hold it baby. You’ve gotta get - get off or it’ll all be inside.”

He starts to stutter and lose rhythm still pulling you into him, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

You don’t hear him. A roar is building in your ears, a white noise type of hum that is blocking out everything else. You can feel your release digging its claws into you down to your bones as it gets ready to wrench you from your body.

Your knees begin to shake from their place beside Kyle’s hips as you finally get what you’ve been working towards for the past however many hours. Your vision whites out and your mind blanks.

You clench around Kyle’s cock. warm gummy walls pulsing around him, drawing him inside. You’re grinding down on him as hard as possible, his tip pressed against the back of your channel.

His eyes hold an unusual gleam right before he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, groaning his release as he pumps everything inside of you.

Later when you’re spooned together, his arms wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together, you don’t notice him cupping his hand around your lower stomach. He falls asleep with a smile on his face as he imagines his future together, with all three of you.

#nobody look at me #jk I actually love this #we need more gaz fics in the world #this handsome man can make all the babies he’d like 🥵 #you just know they’d be cute #fanfic #cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon riley x reader

[biolumien]

when'd you get so cool? (always was)

jo togame x gn!reader pre shishitoren arc, post choji becoming leader mentions of implied violence word count: 1022

“fuck.” 

jo togame, vice captain to the shishitoren, was currently bleeding pretty hard from several gashes on his arms, and one fairly nasty scrape across his face. you’d found him limping back to the ori, his orange jacket draped over his shoulders as he held onto his arm, applying loose pressure over his wounds—and his characteristic orange glasses dangling unevenly against his nose. 

you’d rushed him back to the ori, towards an upper floor where you were less likely to be bothered, and had found the medkit you kept for emergencies like this. shishitoren might be devotees to power, but they didn’t have to be devotees to constant open wounds and injuries. or something like that, 

you held a cotton ball with a set of tweezers, just after you dunked it into some rubbing alcohol, but togame kept jolting—not enough to stop you from being able to disinfect his wounds, but enough that he kept pressing closer and closer towards you. 

“stop moving,” you say, finally exasperated, your cheeks flushed at the proximity. “i’m trying to disinfect your wounds, genius.”

“aww. you think i’m one?” togame’s eyes brightened for a moment as he drawled. “a genius?”

“…” 

the face you made must have been pretty bad, because he snickered, the sound low, almost like a rumbling in his throat. 

“when’d you get so cool?” togame mutters, pressing close to your face. your cheeks are flushed—they must be, and you laugh softly, flicking his forehead. his facial expression falters for a second, wincing in dramatic pain. “mean it. when?” 

in the rundown room of the ori, you feel a sudden rising of chill air, and you shiver, despite the warm heat of togame’s body pressing close to yours. 

“i’ve always been,” you tease. “guess you just haven’t noticed what was right in front of you.” 

bolder than you usually are, at least. you think something curdles in you–shame for saying something so bold, maybe? you worry, for a fleeting, desperate second, that togame’s just going to mock you, but he doesn’t. togame laughs. it’s a nice sound, a slow thing that makes his chest shake with each chuckle. 

“really…” he whistles, the note low. “didn’t realize, then, i guess. my bad.” his nose scrunches when he laughs. your face feels like it’s on fire, and then you realize you have to get back to patching him up—so you cut some gauze with the scissors in your small medkit, gesturing to togame to extend his arm. 

he’s wiry, but you’ve seen this man punch so hard he’s dented metal sheets without even flinching. his arms feel hard. 

“knives do this?” you ask as you tie the gauze tightly around his arm. 

“yeah,” togame says. he stares down at you, a small smirk crossing his face slowly—at the pace of trickling honey. “worried about me?”

you scoff.

“out of everyone, i worry the least about you,” you murmur. and you’re lying, you know it, because you do worry about him–you lie awake in your bed, staring up at your ceiling fan, at ribbons that you’ve tacked up on the blades that flow hypnotically–and you worry and wonder and hope that togame is safe. even though he hits the hardest, he’s built like a truck–he’ll be safe, so long as he plays his cards right. 

“i know you can handle yourself. just wonder if you bite off a little more than you can chew sometimes. with choji, with the rest of them,” you continue, wrapping gauze around his other arm. 

togame’s green eyes darken a little bit–you can see the point at which they harden, like flint. you realize maybe a little belatedly that you’d fucked up–choji was a sensitive subject, even now–you never asked about the depth of togame’s devotion, but he was the self-sacrificing type in the end, too–the kind of man that would wade in the river lethe if it meant that his friends wouldn’t touch the memory-erasing waters.

he’d lose himself if it meant protecting someone else. that’s what scared you, what kept you awake at night. 

“sorry,” you say, picking up the medkit to pull out some bandaids–fabric kinds, that come in a variety of cute patterns. “i know it’s a touchy subject.”

“... s’fine,” togame says, and his eyes stay that strange, dulled color–but the smile’s back, and this time you can realize how fake it is–the edges of his masked facade coming apart at the seams. you fish through patterned bandaids, settling on an orange one with black cats across it. 

“tilt your head,” you murmur. “away from me, so i can put this on. then you’re done.” 

togame does so, his glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he looks away. you press the bandage against his face, carefully making sure it adheres. his skin is warm, and you can almost see the places where he’s shaved at his jaw with a razor, and your thumb brushes against the faintest hint of stubble.

“all done,” you say, pulling back.

“thanks.”

togame’s voice is clipped, strained. he seems to be looking at something far away–further than the walls of the ori. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” you ask as he stands up, pressing away from you.

“me? never better,” togame says, and you can tell it’s a lie from the way his smile strains, too strained to be genuine. “don’t worry about me.” he leans forward, taking your hand in his for a moment–and you’re startled by the feverish warmth of his hand for a moment, as he leans down to press a kiss to the tips of your fingers. 

his lips are warm, too–a little dry, but soft. the kiss itself is almost reverent, and you think your breath gets strangled in your throat for a desperate, wheezing second. 

he smiles, almost sheepishly at you for a moment, before he turns and shrugs his jacket on past his bandaged arms, and leaves.

you raise up the hand that he’d kissed, pressing your fingers to your lips contemplatively for a moment–as if you could, by kissing the faint reminder of his ghost, feel his lips on yours. 

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #blehhh #fun fact i was watching wind breaker w a friend right #and i was like #"haha my favorite characters gonna show up' #and then this freak of nature known as jo togame #shows up and then my friend starts laughing at me #like yes officer! more of that guy please! more of those guys who have black hair have sleepy eyes and act like That please! #my types so obvious you can find them in the lineup bc they'll probably be asleep or snide as fuck

[lovesuhng]

favorite place

w.c: 1.2 fluff, friends to lovers

You were on the bus on your way to the university. You had studied all night for a very important exam you were about to take. The journey was long; you managed to doze off at times, but you were startled by the bus's movements and ended up waking up.

Arriving at the university, you thought about looking for Johnny, your best friend, but since you were late, you preferred to go directly to the classroom. The exam was about to start, and the professor asked everyone to turn off and put away their cell phones. You were about to do what was asked when you saw a message from Johnny.

"I know you're nervous, but try not to be too much! You did your best studying and, regardless of the result, don't be sad. Good luck :)"

You smiled and felt a warm feeling in your heart as you read the message. It was amazing how he could calm you in any situation, and that was one of the reasons you were even more in love with him. Yes, you had fallen into the cliché of falling in love with your best friend. You composed yourself to take the exam.

After leaving the exam, you were in the university courtyard, upset because the test hadn't gone so well, when you saw Johnny walking towards you. It was incredible how handsome he was. You just gave him a weak smile.

"Looks like the exam didn't go so well."

"My face says it all, doesn't it?" You couldn't hide very well when you were upset about something.

"A little bit." You gave an awkward laugh and at that moment, Johnny had an idea. He couldn't let his best friend be so sad. "Follow me."

"What? Don't you have more classes today?"

"I only have one more, but I won't leave you like this. I'm going to take you to a place I really like."

Some time later, you were already in Johnny's car. He hadn't told you where you were going, but he was the person you trusted the most and you were happy that your friend was doing something to distract you.

You could already see the beach and just turned to Johnny, who was smiling. "I told you I'd take you to a place I really like."

As you got out of the car, Johnny was already running across the sand with his arms open. As soon as you saw him running, you pulled out your phone and started recording some videos of him and then took a few photos. Noticing this, Johnny started posing for the photos, making you laugh sincerely. It was amazing how he had this power to make you happier without even realizing it.

After a while, Johnny helped you climb the rocks on the beach. It was a perfect place to watch the sun beginning to set.

"This is amazing!" you said, marveling at the scenery in front of you.

"Yeah. I always wanted to bring you here, but I think this is the right time. This is the place I come to when I want to think, cheer up or just do nothing. This place calms me down." You gave a small smile, happy that Johnny was sharing that with you. "Don't you have a place that calms you?"

You made a thoughtful face. You were still looking at the setting sun and just responded with what came to your mind. "Well, I don't have a place. The only thing that really calms me down is you." Johnny wasn't expecting that answer; he just looked at you, who were still gazing at the horizon. "You always find a way to make me smile or feel comfortable. It seems like you always know when I'm a bit messed up and say something that makes my day a thousand times better. Sometimes, you don't even need to say or do anything; just your eyes bring me an inexplicable peace. They are my favorite thing in the world." After a shy laugh, you looked to the side. You didn't imagine Johnny would be looking at you so intently and so closely. He took off his sunglasses to look into your eyes, reminding you how much you were in love with them and the man in front of you. In all those years of friendship, Johnny had never heard such beautiful things and that only confirmed what he had felt for a long time. You were about to look away and try to change the subject when you felt Johnny's lips on yours. It was a quick peck but enough for both of you to feel a pleasant warmth in your hearts.

Johnny pulled away to look at you and saw that you were still looking at him without showing any reaction. I shouldn't have done that! She will hate me. That was all he thought.

"I shouldn't have done that! It's just that... I don't know, I'm sorry-" This time, Johnny was the one surprised by your lips. And it wasn't a simple peck; it was a kiss full of complicity and with the feeling that it should have happened a long time ago. Everything fit and made sense for both of you, who were surprised by the chemistry you had.

The kiss ended, you still kept your eyes closed and your forehead touching Johnny's. You were afraid to open your eyes and find that it was all a dream and just said "Please, don't apologize or regret what just happened."

Johnny pulled away a little and your heart tightened for a second. "Please, look at me." Even with fear, you opened your eyes and saw Johnny smiling. He caressed your cheek. "How could I regret something I liked and wanted to do for so long?"

Night had fallen and you were already in the car heading home. You were looking out the window when you felt Johnny hold and caress your hand while driving. You smiled, which Johnny noticed, making him even happier. Finally, you arrived at the building where you lived. You didn't really know what to do or how to say goodbye. "Thank you for today. It was wonderful."

"It was the least I could do."

"So... I better go inside. Bye, John." When you made a move to get out of the car, Johnny held your hand and gave you a confused look.

"After everything that happened today, do you think you're just going to leave like that?"

You just smiled, understanding what he meant and simply joined your lips to his. As you kissed, Johnny smiled. He could swear he would burst with happiness for kissing the woman he loved so much. The air began to run out and you both separated.

"Will we get used to this?" you commented.

"Well... if you like me as much as I like you, I'm sure we will. But I think I need another kiss to confirm that."

You laughed, throwing your head back at what he had just said. "Here's the deal: let's go to my apartment, order something to eat, and if you finally agree to watch High School Musical with me, then I'll think about whether you deserve another kiss... maybe two or even three."

"High School Musical? I think I can make that effort for you." Johnny stole a quick kiss from you and got out of the car, leaving you with a goofy smile on your face and thinking about how happy you were to finally discover that your first love was reciprocated.

#nct scenarios #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct drabbles #nct 127 fluff #nct x reader #nct writers #nct 127 drabbles #johnny nct 127 #johnny fluff #johnny suh x reader #johnny x reader #johnny suh #johnny au #johnny #johnny suh au #johnny suh fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x y/n #nct 127 x reader

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 1/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, tough topics

Word Count: 4167

A/N: Alright. I'm only going to write this once. Danneel doesn't come off well in this story. She's pretty much described as the devil himself. She does and says things that are absolutely awful. In this Story she's pretty much the biggest bitch. I don't want to hear any complaints because it's just a story. Fiction. No hate towards anyone. So, that being said, I hope you enjoy reading it.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Jared parked in front of the airport in Austin, his fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel. It had been too long since he had seen Jensen outside of the conventions. This visit was different, just for spending time together, no panels, no crowds. As he waited, Jared couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. It was the first time Jensen was visiting him after he moved away from Austin, a chance for them to catch up without the chaos of their usual meet-ups.

As Jared watched the stream of passengers disembarking from the plane, his mind drifted back to the rocky path that had led them to this moment. Their friendship had weathered its fair share of storms, strained by distance, conflicting schedules, and the pressures of their respective careers. Yet, despite the challenges, they had somehow found their way back to each other. It had taken time, effort, and countless late-night conversations, but slowly, they had begun to rebuild what they had once thought lost.

This weekend, as they celebrated Jared's birthday together, it felt like a new chapter unfolding. Jensen's decision to fly to Austin, despite his busy filming and convention schedule, spoke volumes about the strength of their renewed bond. As Jared caught sight of Jensen emerging from the crowd, a genuine smile spread across his face, washing away any lingering doubts or tensions. This weekend was about reconnecting, about rediscovering the camaraderie that had always defined their relationship.

Jensen opened the trunk and unceremoniously tossed his suitcase inside before collapsing into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, looking every bit as exhausted and worn-out as Jared had feared.

"Wow, someone looks like they've been through the wringer", Jared teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he started the car.

Jensen shot him a mock glare, his eyes heavy with fatigue. "Thanks, Jared. Always great to get a warm welcome", he quipped, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice despite his worn-out demeanor.

"Just calling it like I see it, man", Jared chuckled, pulling out of the parking spot and heading towards the exit. "But seriously, you look like you could use a week-long vacation on a deserted island".

"Tell me about it", Jensen muttered, sinking back into the seat and closing his eyes for a moment. "Filming has been brutal lately. I swear, I'm starting to feel every single one of my thirty-something years".

Jared couldn't help but chuckle at Jensen's dramatics. "Thirty-something? More like ancient, old man", he teased, earning himself a playful shove from Jensen.

"Hey, watch it, Padalecki. I may be old, but I can still kick your ass", Jensen retorted with a smirk, the weariness momentarily forgotten as the car with little laughter.

As Jared merged onto the highway, the gentle hum of the car filled the silence between them. Glancing over at Jensen, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface.

“So, it’s just the filming that’s got you looking like you’ve aged a decade overnight?”, Jared ventured, keeping his tone light but his concern evident.

Jensen let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. “Yeah, filming’s been intense, but that’s not all of it”, he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation.

Jared knew better than to push too hard, but he couldn’t ignore the sense of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. “Is everything okay at home?”, he asked tentatively, knowing full well the delicate balance Jensen was trying to maintain.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine”, he replied, his tone betraying the lie.

But Jared wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Come on, man. You don’t have to pretend with me”, he pressed gently, his concern outweighing any discomfort he felt broaching the topic.

Jensen hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. “Things… haven’t been great”, he admitted, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap.

Jared could sense Jensen's internal struggle, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Before he could push him further, however, Jensen seemed to retreat, throwing up his defenses like a shield.

"Hey, forget I said anything, okay?", Jensen mumbled, his voice barely audible over the sound of the car's engine. "Let's just focus on having a good time this weekend. I could really use a break… from everything".

Jared nodded, respecting Jensen's boundaries even as his heart ached for his friend's pain. "Yeah, of course", he replied, his tone gentle yet supportive. "We'll make sure this weekend is all about relaxing and having fun. No drama, no stress".

Jensen managed a small, grateful smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks. I appreciate it", he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual facade of strength.

As they continued down the highway, the weight of their unspoken conversations hung heavy in the air, but for now, they both agreed to set aside their worries.

As the miles flew by, a more simple conversation flowed easily between Jared and Jensen, the tension of their earlier exchange dissipating with each passing moment. It didn't even take 30 minutes until Jared pulled into the familiar driveway of his family home.

"Home sweet home", Jared announced with a grin, turning off the engine and casting a sideways glance at Jensen. "Welcome back to Casa Padalecki".

Jensen chuckled, the weariness in his eyes momentarily replaced by a spark of excitement. "Thanks, man. It's good to be here", he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Jared and Jensen climbed the front porch steps, they were met with the eager faces of Tom and Shep peeking out from behind the screen door. The boys' eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Jensen standing there, and their excitement was palpable.

"Uncle Jensen!", Tom exclaimed, darting forward to wrap his arms around Jensen in a tight hug, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

Shep followed suit, his smaller frame joining in the embrace as he grinned up at Jensen. "We didn't think you were really coming!", he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and joy.

Jensen chuckled warmly, returning their hugs with equal affection. "Well, here I am", he replied, tousling their hair playfully. "I couldn't miss the chance to hang out with you two".

As they stepped inside the house, laughter and chatter filled the air, the boys buzzing with excitement at the prospect of spending time with their favorite ´uncle´. Jared couldn't help but smile at the sight, grateful for the bond that had formed between Jensen and his sons over the years. With Jensen back in their lives, even just for the weekend, he knew that memories would be made and cherished for years to come.

As Tom and Shep dashed off to explore the backyard, their laughter echoing through the house, Jensen turned to Jared with a curious expression.

"So, where's Gen and mini Gen?", Jensen asked, a playful twinkle in his eye as he referred to Jared's wife and daughter.

Jared glanced at the clock on the wall, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "They're out shopping", he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "Looks like it's just us guys for now".

Jensen chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Ah, a little father-son bonding time, huh?", he remarked.

"Yeah, something like that", Jared replied, his gaze drifting toward the backyard where the sounds of his sons' laughter drifted in through the open door.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the backyard, Jared and Jensen found themselves sitting side by side, beers in hand, watching as Tom and Shep played with the chickens.

Jared took a sip of his beer, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "So, how are the kids?", he asked, his tone casual but genuine.

Jensen's smile faltered slightly at the mention of his own children, a flicker of sadness crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a forced grin. "They're good", he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Busy with school and all that".

Jared nodded, though he could sense there was more to the story than Jensen was letting on. He had seen firsthand how Jensen had thrown himself into his work, often using it as a means of escape from the troubles at home.

"Must be tough juggling all that work and family", Jared remarked sympathetically, knowing all too well the pressures of balancing a career with family responsibilities.

"Yeah, it's… still challenging", Jensen admitted, his gaze drifting off into the distance. "But hey, enough about me. How's Gen and the kids? They keeping you on your toes?".

Jared chuckled, grateful for the diversion. "Always", he replied with a fond smile. "But wouldn't have it any other way".

As they sat together in the fading light, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air, Jared couldn't shake the feeling that there was still so much left unsaid between them.

As the evening wore on and the sky darkened, Gen and Odette returned home, their arrival greeted with hugs and laughter from Jensen. They exchanged pleasantries and caught up on each other's lives, the warmth of their conversation filling the air.

However, as the hour grew late and the kids were ushered off to bed by Gen, a sense of tranquility settled over the house. Now alone in the quiet of the evening, Jared and Jensen found themselves relaxing on the porch once more, the glow of their beers casting long shadows in the dim light.

But their peace was short-lived as Jensen's phone rang, breaking the serene atmosphere with its shrill tone. With a frustrated groan, Jensen glanced at the caller ID, his annoyance evident.

"Danneel?", Jared asked quietly, his brow furrowing with concern as he watched Jensen quickly silence the call.

Jensen nodded, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Yeah", he muttered, his voice heavy with irritation. "Probably just checking in to make sure I'm not having too much fun".

Jared could sense the tension radiating from his friend, the weight of Jensen's strained marriage casting a shadow over their evening.

Jared let out a heavy sigh, the weight of unspoken words pressing heavily on his chest. Finally, unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke up, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Jensen, can I ask you something?", Jared began, his gaze fixed on his friend. "Why won't you just finally leave her?".

The question hung in the air, laden with the weight of years of silence and suppressed emotions. Jared knew it was a delicate subject, one that had been tiptoed around for far too long, but he couldn't stand by any longer and watch his friend suffer in silence.

Jensen's expression hardened, a flicker of defiance crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. "It's complicated. You know that", he replied evasively, his voice betraying the turmoil raging beneath the surface.

"But is it really?", Jared pressed, his tone gentle yet insistent. "I mean, I get that there are always reasons, but at what point do you say enough is enough?".

Jensen's jaw tightened, his gaze drifting off into the distance as he wrestled with his inner demons. "I wish it were that simple", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have no idea what she's capable of".

Jared's heart ached at the pain etched into Jensen's features, the deep-rooted fear and resignation that seemed to consume him. But he refused to back down, knowing that sometimes, the hardest conversations were the ones that needed to be had the most.

"I know it's fucking scary", Jared admitted softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Jensen's shoulder. "But you don't have to face it alone, you know. We're here for you, no matter what".

Jensen's grip tightened around his beer bottle, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You don't get it, Jared", he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "If I try to leave, she'll make sure I never see my kids again. She'll ruin me. In every fucking way possible".

Jared's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "And what do you think she's doing right now? Keeping you trapped, suffocating you with her control", he retorted, his voice tinged with anger. "She's already ruining you, Jensen. Can't you see that?".

Jensen's jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides as he struggled to find the words to express the turmoil raging within him. "I can't risk losing my kids, my image, my career", he finally admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't".

Jared's heart ached for his friend, the pain etched into every line of his face. But he refused to let Jensen succumb to the fear and manipulation any longer.

"You're stronger than that, Jensen", Jared said firmly, his voice filled with conviction.

Jared's frustration softened into determination. "Listen to me, Jensen. You need to stop letting her control you", he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "You just need to get yourself a damn good lawyer".

Jensen's gaze flickered with uncertainty, the weight of Jared's words sinking in. "But what if it's not enough?", he whispered, his voice filled with doubt.

"It's a start", Jared replied, his tone resolute. "And you're not alone in this. We'll find you the best lawyer, one who'll fight tooth and nail to make sure she won´t ruin your life more than she already did".

As they sat in the quiet of the backyard, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air, Jensen felt a glimmer of hope stir within him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

But then, with a heavy sigh, Jensen's resolve wavered as he confessed, "I can't take it anymore, Jared. Every time I'm home, I feel like I'm suffocating. I drown myself in conventions just to get away from her. And when I am home, I'm mostly drunk just to be able to deal with her".

Jared's heart sank at the raw honesty in Jensen's words, the pain and despair evident in every syllable. But he refused to let his friend continue down this destructive path.

"We'll figure it out, Jensen," Jared said firmly, his voice filled with conviction.

Jared knew how bad Jensen really was. For years he could do nothing but watch as Danneel destroyed his best friend. Publicly humiliated him, manipulated him and mentally abused him. She gradually destroyed his self-confidence, his friendships and caused him to isolate himself from everyone. Jared wanted nothing more than to finally see his best friend happy again. Truly happy. But with Danneel and her toxic personality by his side, that wouldn't happen. So he hoped to use the time they had together well enough to somehow get through to Jensen.

As Jensen made his way to the guestroom an hour later, the weight of the evening's conversation hung heavy on his shoulders, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions and stress. Each step felt like a burden, the familiar sense of suffocation creeping in as he retreated from the warmth of Jared's home to the solitude of his temporary sanctuary.

Slipping into the guestroom, Jensen closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh, the darkness of the room enveloping him like a shroud. He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he tried to quiet the storm raging within him.

But despite his best efforts, the memories and fears clawed their way to the surface, threatening to overwhelm him with their intensity.

And as he lay there in the silence of the night, the weight of his burdens pressing down upon him, Jensen couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a way out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long. But for now, all he could do was try to find solace in the quiet of the night, hoping that somehow, someway, he would find the strength to face another day.

The next morning, Jared and Gen bustled around the kitchen, the savory aroma of breakfast filling the air as they worked together with Odette by their side. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the room, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had hung over the house the night before.

As they set the table with plates of pancakes and fresh fruit, Jared glanced at Gen with a playful smirk. "Think Jensen will be able to handle waking up to the smell of your cooking?", he teased, earning a chuckle from his wife.

Gen rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression. "He better be ready for the Padalecki family breakfast experience", she replied with a grin, her culinary skills on full display.

Just then, Tom bounded into the kitchen, his energy infectious as he eagerly awaited his next task. "Can I go wake up Uncle Jensen now, Dad?", he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Jared nodded with a smile, ruffling Tom's hair affectionately. "Go for it, buddy. Just try not to scare him too much", he replied, unable to contain his own amusement at the thought of Jensen's reaction to being roused from his slumber.

With a mischievous grin, Tom dashed off to carry out his mission, leaving Jared and Gen to share a knowing look.

As Tom made his way towards the guestroom, his excitement bubbling over, he couldn't help but feel a mischievous urge creeping in. Quietly, he slipped inside, tiptoeing towards Jensen's bed with a grin plastered on his face.

With a sly glance towards Jensen, still lost in slumber, Tom couldn't resist the temptation. He settled himself down beside Jensen, his heart racing with anticipation. And then, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he let out a loud fart, breaking the silence of the room with a resounding blast.

Jensen jolted awake with a start, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at Tom in disbelief. "What the…", he sputtered, his voice trailing off as he tried to process what had just happened.

Tom couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with mirth as he reveled in the chaos he had created. "Gotcha, Uncle Jensen!", he exclaimed between giggles, unable to contain his excitement at the successful prank.

Jensen instantly grimaced, his hand flying to cover his nose as the pungent odor assaulted his senses. "Oh, man, Tom! What did you eat?", he exclaimed, his voice muffled by his hand as he tried to escape the noxious fumes.

Tom doubled over with laughter, barely able to catch his breath between fits of giggles. "Sorry, Uncle Jensen!", he managed to squeak out between laughs.

Jensen waved his hand in front of his face, desperately trying to dispel the stench that hung in the air. "You're absolutely your dad's kid", he grumbled, his tone laced with both amusement and exasperation. "Damn, that fucking stinks!".

Again Jensen waved his hand in front of his face, still trying to rid the room of the lingering smell. "Alright, alright, Tom", he said with a chuckle, trying to mask his amusement. "Why don't you go air out that stinking butt of yours while I get dressed?".

Tom grinned mischievously, his laughter echoing through the room as he bounded out of the guestroom, leaving Jensen to shake his head in amusement.

Dressed and somehow awake, Jensen made his way towards the kitchen, the promise of breakfast and laughter drawing him forward.

Jensen took a seat at the table, a grin playing at the corners of his lips as he recounted Tom's prank to Jared. "You won't believe what your son just did", he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

Jared raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? What did he do this time?", he asked with a smirk, already bracing himself for another one of Tom's antics.

"He let out the loudest fart I've ever heard right next to my face", Jensen replied, his laughter infectious as he recounted the incident. "I swear, that kid is just like his old man".

Jared couldn't help but laugh at the image of his son terrorizing Jensen with his infamous flatulence. "Well, I guess he takes after me in more ways than one", he quipped, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Shep and Odette's laughter filled the room, their amusement at Tom's antics contagious as they teased their brother relentlessly. Gen couldn't help but shake her head affectionately at their sibling banter.

Turning to Jared, Gen's smile widened as she made a suggestion. "Hey, do you think you and Jensen could handle getting the drinks for tonight's party?", she asked, her tone hopeful as she looked between her husband and his friend.

Jared grinned at the idea, nodding eagerly. "Of course", he replied, excitement lighting up his eyes. "Consider it our mission. We'll make sure we have plenty of drinks to keep the party going all night long".

Jensen nodded in agreement. "You can count on us", he chimed in.

As they made plans for the evening's festivities, the anticipation of the birthday party ahead filled the room with a sense of excitement.

Two hours later, Jensen found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Jared's car, the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road soothing his frayed nerves. They were on their way to the next liquor store, their mission to stock up for Jared's birthday party well underway.

Jared glanced over at Jensen with a grin, the excitement of the evening ahead evident in his eyes. "Ready to make a dent in the liquor aisle?", he joked, his tone light as he navigated through the traffic.

Jensen chuckled, a sense of camaraderie washing over him as he settled back into his seat. "You bet", he replied. "Just promise me we won't end up with more beer than we can carry".

Jared laughed, shaking his head at his friend's jest. "No promises", he teased, though there was a hint of mischief in his tone.

As Jared disappeared in search of the restroom, Jensen remained leaning against the overflowing shopping cart, his expression a mix of boredom and introspection. With each passing moment, he found himself sinking deeper into his own thoughts. Again the weight of his troubles pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within, the nagging sense that he was trapped in a life that no longer brought him joy. Despite the excitement of Jared's birthday party looming on the horizon, Jensen couldn't escape the shadows of his own turmoil that threatened to engulf him at every turn.

Lost in his thoughts, Jensen barely noticed the bustle of shoppers around him as they navigated the crowded aisles of the liquor store. His mind was a whirlwind of memories and regrets, a tangled web of emotions that left him feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Lost in his thoughts, Jensen barely registered the collision until he felt the impact against his back. Startled, he stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance as he turned to see what had caused the disturbance.

"Hey, fucking watch where you're going!", he grumbled irritably, his frustration evident in his tone as he glanced over his shoulder.

But as he turned around, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, Jensen's words died on his lips as he met your gaze.

"Sorry", you apologized quickly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you struggled to regain your composure and the bottles of whiskey in your arms. "I didn't see you there".

Jensen's irritation faded, his annoyance evaporating as he took in your apologetic expression. "It's okay", he replied more softly. "No harm done".

———————————

A/N: I wanted to give you a little preview. I don't know exactly when it will continue. If you want to be tagged, please let me know <3 It's going to be a damn long story, that's for sure, lol.

Please let me know what you think.🥰

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jared padalecki #jared paladecki #jared and jensen #spn #supernatural #gen padalecki #genevieve padalecki

[sunnitheapollokid]

I desperately need a daughterofposeidon!reader x leo valdez with the brother's bestfriend trope (the brother being Percy duh) 🤭🤭 can be hc's or a blurb!!

🌅 ┊ ༉‧₊˚✧ MY BEST FRIEND’S SISTER!

↳ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon blurb!

☀️ sunni’s notes : THIS REQUEST HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG IM SO SORRY ARTIST!!! guys i swear— i’ll try to be more punctual with this LMFAOOOO <3 thank you all so much for being patient with me. 🥹💝 i’ve done lots of headcanons for these cutie pies, so i should give out a blurb now!! wanted to do something short and sweet ⭐️. (ALSO LEO IS DEFO A PHOTOGRAPHY GUY) happy reading bebis! sunkisses, sunni!

ೃ࿔₊•

LEO DIDNT start it. it was a stupid bet! and jason and piper knew it too, the minute they had dared him to. they snickered under their breaths as they watched leo heat up like a match on a bbq summer night. "lee, seriously, it's not that bad of a dare."

"yes it is, when she's literally my best friend's sister!" he cried, his voice echoing in bunker nine. "hey, not my fault you lost." leo grumbled as he stared at the uno cards laid out in front of him, smug looks painted on both his very close best friends.

"you guys are the worst."

ೃ࿔₊•

IT WAS just like any other day in camp half-blood for (name). the regular swim, the peeking of the arts n' craft room, the good 'ol teasing towards percabeth. being the second child of the god of the sea felt like a breeze.

"hey jackson!" she heard her surname called from the back of her head. "oh hey leo." she waved, the skipping of her feet had made it's stop. she knew leo. she had acknowledged him multiple times when she hung out with her brother's friends. he was always just the hot-head gremlin friend of his brother to her.

"i," he coughed.

"you mind doing something for me, sirena?" she felt her ears grow hot. she waved the thought off, "sure, what is it?" she skipped on over towards him. he then pulled a camera out of his pocket, it looked old and rusty, but it looked like he had tweaked it a little to make it work again.

she cocked a brow, "i thought.. technology attracts monsters." leo let out an over-confident chuckle. "when you're the son of hephaestus, you manage to work out a few trinkets."

"wanna try it out with me?"

(name) suggested an amazing view for leo, just by the docks. they walked side-by-side as they sauntered towards the place she had recommended. "here we are!" she beamed. leo couldn't lie, it was incredibly captivating. "great! now, uh, just stand over there."

her eyes grew bug-eyed. leo laughed lightly, taking his eyes out of the lens to stare at her, "what? did you think i just wanted a view recommendation? i need you as my muse, sirena." she felt her breath hitch, what was this?

leo pressed his lips together in a smile. she didn't want to protest, so leo watched her walk towards the wood railing and she leaned over it, the sun hitting her eyes perfectly. a little too perfectly at that. leo felt himself freeze, staring at her for a good couple of seconds before,

"leo! are you going to take the picture?" she giggled. "oh-" he stumbled over his words. "just about to!" he held the camera in his hand, just about to take the picture when..

BOING!

of course it was one of leo's pranks.

(name) jumped, startled, leo began to cackle, but had stopped when he noticed her tipping over the rail and her body falling almost instantly in the water, making a big splash, the curls of his face drenched.

"(name)!" he called, running towards the railing, and leaning over to check if she was okay. she was gone. shit! percy's going to kill me!

a hand had submerged from the water and took him by the collar, pulling him towards the water and his body falling into the lake with whoever it was.

"let me- (name)!" (name) had created a bubble for them underwater. she giggled lightly, then punched him on the shoulder. "god you got a punch!" he winced in pain, rubbing his arm. "that's what you freaking get." she grumbled, she was totally dry.

leo had forgotten she was the daughter of poseidon. he had gotten worried over nothing. he playfully rolled his eyes, "it was a good prank though, no?" she gave him an "are you kidding me right now?" look, before a muffled voice from above the surface started calling for her name, percy!

the thoughts began to spin in (name)'s head. "oh he's going to kill leo for sure if he found them like this. it might take a while for us to get out. what about food? god, and it's getting dark. what if-"

"uno?" leo pulled out the card game out of his tool belt.

(name) stared at leo and to the cards, then back to leo.

he'd already pulled a prank on her, he might as well cheer her up. she smiled, it would help the time pass.

"okay valdez."

#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez oneshot #leo valdez fanfic #pjo x reader #pjoverse #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus

[starryevermore]

the shelf life of those fantasies have expired ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: Cardan angst fic? 👀 - anon

summary: the goddess of timing once found them beguiling. she said she was trying. was she lying? his ribs get the feeling she did.

word count: 1,977

warnings?: angst city™, no happy ending, dual povs, mutual pining, miscommunication, not proofread

When she stood at his side, looked so…natural at his side, it was easy to find you comparing yourself to Jude Duarte. No one understood why Cardan made her his seneschal, not when they had seemed bitter enemies before the Blood Crown was perched atop his head. You didn’t understand, either. The most Cardan had confined in you was that Jude helped him get the crown. Everything else remained a mystery. You would pass gossiping fae, those who sought insight behind the High King’s actions, and not have a single clue what to say. You wished you could lie, if just to be able to say anything but cryptic excuses for why Cardan stopped confiding in you. 

Once, you thought you might be the one standing at his side. Not as High Queen, of course—no one had ever dreamed that Cardan would sit on the throne. But he had been one of the few you would dare to call a friend. Before the crown was perched atop his head, you would’ve said he called you the same. Perhaps not in front of his other friends, or anyone else for that matter, but you used to be certain you meant something to him.

You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more your heart clenched in your chest. If you remained for just a moment longer, it would give out on you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jude bend down to whisper something to Cardan. You didn’t feel in control of your hand as it snatched a goblet of wine. It was heavy in your hand, but it managed to ground you. To give you a reason to not collapse where you stood. 

How had things changed so quickly? Just months ago, Cardan was sitting on your blanket during lessons, trying to see how many twigs he could stick in your hair before you would tell him to stop. You always tried to see how long it would take before he got bored of it. When did you become the one he grew bored of? 

“Dance with me.”

You lifted the goblet up, your head tilting back, finishing your wine in a single go. You set it down on a table and stalked away. Cardan followed after you. You spared a glance at the throne, where Jude still stood. Exasperation was clear on her face. Whether it was directed at you or Cardan, you couldn’t say for certain. You knew enough of her skill with a sword, though, to stay away from her bad side. 

“I am tired,” you said. 

Cardan’s hand caught your wrist. Jaw clenching and unclenching, you were forced to remain at the ridiculous party. You should’ve stopped coming to them months ago, but these events were the only opportunity to catch a glimpse at your friend-turned-king. 

“One dance,” he insisted. 

“I would prefer to leave.”

His hand slipped to your wrist. Fingers intertwined. When you tried to pull away again, his grip tightened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. If you shut them, you could imagine all of your dreams were coming true. “I would prefer you in my arms.”

“You’re drunk.”

Cardan’s grip slackened enough for you to wrench your hand free again. “Would you deny your king?”

The nonanswer was answer enough. Fae cannot lie. Cardan cannot deny his inebriation. He cannot deny that the one reason he would talk to you now was because his senses were dulled. Cardan Greenbriar does not consider you a friend any longer, so why would he ever seek you out sober? You wished you were drunk, too. It would hurt less. 

“Would my king force my hand?”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The same lips a laugh fell from. You took a step back. He stepped toward you. “One dance,” he repeated. 

By now, an audience had formed. You cared little for fae gossip, but if you tried to leave now, it would be impossible to escape those who wanted to know why you would deny the king. You held your hand out and let him take it. You ignored the way your heart stuttered as his thumb ran over your knuckles. 

“One dance.”

The smile Cardan flashed you was enough to make your knees weak. For that, at least, you were grateful to lean against him as you danced. It was easy, then, to lose yourself to the music, to pretend that things were how they used to me. When Cardan was your friend, when you told each other everything. If you lost yourself enough, you could imagine a crown perched atop your head. Jude could still stand at Cardan’s side. She was a damned good seneschal. But you would be the one sitting on his other side. 

Cardan spun you around the floor, a smile on his face. You pretended it was because he was happy to have you in his arms. “I only ever see you at these parties,” he said. 

“To be a king is to have a busy life,” you said. 

“I would make time for you.”

He would, but he hasn’t. Was he waiting for an invitation? Cardan never used to before. There were countless times you would awake to find him waiting for you at the foot of your bed. He never liked having to wait for you to ask for his attention. There was a time he freely gave it. Had the Blood Crown changed who he was? Did it force him to realize he could do better than you? 

The song faded into another, and you slipped out of Cardan’s arms. His hands still chased after you, but you artfully dodged them. A lump formed in your throat that you were quick to swallow. Months ago, you would have dreamed about a moment like this. Now, it felt like Cardan was using as a placeholder. As a symbol for someone he would prefer to dance but would never give him the time of day. 

You looked at the throne again. Jude watched Cardan. Her face was unreadable. It was no secret that fae looked down upon humans. You never fancied yourself that sort of person. Certainly not when it came to Jude Duarte. It took a special sort of person, fae or not, to capture the interest of a prince. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her. If she was the one that Cardan wanted at his side, you would not stand in the way. 

“It was nice to see you again,” you said, because you knew you would not see him after tonight.

“Have breakfast with me tomorrow. I’ll have the cooks make your favorites.”

You could not tell a lie, so you only offered a smile. “Sleep well, Cardan.”

Before he could say anything more, say anything that might delude you into staying, you turned and left. Not a single person stopped you along the way. Not a single one cared whether you stayed or left—least of all the one person you wished to beg for you. 

By the time the sun rose again, you had left Elfhame.

Cardan Greenbriar drummed his fingers against the wood table. He had invited you to breakfast, hadn’t he? Wracking his still wine-addled brain, he tried to recall the conversation with you. Yes, he certainly said breakfast. Or had it been lunch? Cardan spared a glance out the window. The sun was nearly at its peak. Had he asked you to breakfast or lunch? Had he asked you anything at all? 

At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Cardan jumped to his feet. When it turned out to only be Jude, he flopped back into his seat. He propped his elbow on the table, pressed his cheek into his fist. 

“I didn’t realize my presence was so disappointing,” Jude said. Her eyes swept across the table, at the two place settings and the untouched food. The one thing that had moved was Cardan’s goblet, which had been refilled minutes earlier. “She didn’t come.”

Cardan gestured at the empty seat across from him. 

“Are you certain you asked her?” 

He nodded.

“And she said yes?”

Cardan began to say an exasperated yes, that he wasn’t an idiot, but as he replayed the events from the night before, he wasn’t so sure. “I asked her to breakfast,” he said, because he was certain of that. Jude arched a brow. “…and she told me to sleep well.”

Jude ran a hand over her face. “I knew you were hopeless, but I didn’t imagine you were a lost cause. Really, how did you manage to be with anyone?”

“I was a prince. They just fell into my lap.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t fae, because then I could believe that was a lie,” Jude said. She looked over at the empty seat. The seat that should have been filled by you. “I’m going to send the Ghost to see where she is. Perhaps she was too drunk last night to remember you invited her, or maybe her days are mixed up.”

Cardan frowned at the untouched food. “Maybe she realized she could do better than me.”

Jude reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cardan lifted his cheek from his fist and pressed it against her hand. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend it was you offering him comfort. “Whatever her reason, we’ll bring her here. We’ll figure things out.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” Cardan admitted. 

“We won’t let it come to that. I won’t let it come to that.”

An hour later, the Ghost returned. The words still echoed in his head. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had gone to your home and found it empty. Everything important to you had been packed and taken away. The Ghost lied to him, of course. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a lie, since the Ghost didn’t know its importance. But you left one thing behind. 

Cardan stood in your bedroom, staring at your vanity. It had been cleared of your favorite jewelry and other pretty things you adorned yourself with. It was empty, except for the ring that lay on its marble top.

Jude once told him, when he admitted your feelings for you, about how some humans would gift their beloved a ring as promise of their love. One ring as a promise of monogamy, another as a promise of marriage, and a final ring as a promise of eternal love. Cardan had taken great care in selecting a ring for you, bearing in mind your affinity toward certain metals and specific cuts of stone. He thought it was perfect. When he presented it to you, after he had been crowned High King, he told you he picked it especially for you. You smiled and slipped it on your finger, said it was perfect.

If it was so perfect, why did you leave it behind to collect dust? 

Cardan picked up the ring. A part of him wanted to fling it across the room. If you were rejecting his love, then that was the least the ring deserved. He wanted the stone to shatter and the metal to warp. He wanted to reduce it to dust. He offered you his love, and you left it, and him, behind. But Cardan couldn’t find it in him to throw you away. 

He slipped the ring onto his littlest finger. He was going to find you. He was going to find you, and drag you back to Elfhame and put that ring back on your finger where it belonged. You might have left him behind, but he wouldn’t let you stay away. 

By the time the sun set, he had given orders to bring you home. 

#cardan greenbriar imagine #cardan greenbriar x reader #cardan greenbriar x female reader #cardan greenbriar x fem!reader #cardan greenbriar x you #cardan greenbriar x y/n #cardan greenbriar fanfiction #cardan greenbriar fan fiction #cardan greenbriar fanfic #cardan greenbriar fan fic #cardan greenbriar fic #cardan imagine #cardan x reader #cardan x you #cardan x y/n #cardan x female reader #cardan x fem!reader #cardan fanfiction #cardan fan fiction #cardan fan fic #cardan fanfic #cardan fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my May 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Were Such Fools by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (98k)

Rule #1: The Rewind Machine cannot be used to change the past, only to experience it. History will reset itself to the original timeline every 24 hours.

On his fiftieth birthday, two things are consuming Harry’s mind: what he’s going to make the kids for dinner tonight, and the fact that his marriage is crumbling at his feet.

So, when his best friend gifts him the trip of a lifetime, Harry chooses to venture off to the summer that set his life on its course—all the way back in 1987, California.

It only took him one summer to fall in love with his husband the first time around. How hard could starting all over really be?

Once Bitten and Twice Shy Series by pinkcords / @pinkcords (60k)

once bitten and twice shy (19k) This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended. These Stars Will Guide Us Home (41k) And then he’s gonre. Harry watches him take off his shoes, sort his belongings into bins, and keeps watching until he vanishes entirely, around the corner to his gate. Louis doesn’t look back and Harry can’t blame him, certain his expression, body language, entire being would implore him to stay. It would just make it more difficult on both of them. Louis’ always been intuitive like that, strong enough to make the hard decisions that protect both of them. Or Harry lives in New York and Louis lives in Wisconsin.

Cabin Fever by germericangirl / @germericangirl (46k)

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or:

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

You, In Every Color by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (38k)

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

We'll Be Alright by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove (36k)

"Lou, I know this-"

"Not plan? Of course, this wasn't planned. Harry, this can't be happening. We can't have a kid. We are not even supposed to be sleeping together."

Harry flinched at Louis' words. He was right, but Louis didn't need to be blunt about it.

"I'm not ready to have kids. I said that when we started this… Relationship," Louis stuttered the last word, trying to find the proper wording.

"Do you think I am? I'm not even twenty-four. You are almost twenty-nine! You're at the age where most people start a family."

"Doesn't mean I want to have one!" Louis snapped.

"Well, it's happening," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Be serious, Harry. We can't have a baby. If people find out, you'll be fired."

Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He suddenly felt small. He didn't expect Louis to be excited. This wasn't the best news for their situation, but he thought he'd be happy.

"I know, Louis."

Or Louis is the Captian of Liverpool FC and Harry is one of the team's physiotherapists. They have a secret relationship going but things become complicated when Harry finds out he's pregnant.

Host of a Name by Signofcomfort / @signofcomfort (35k)

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

Cabin on the Bluff Series by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (6k)

Beech Tree in Autumn (1k) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree. Louis presses further still. Without so much as a, 'hello,' he's kissing Harry, hard and hungry. Mosquito Bites and Cheap Beer (2k) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. But then the sky behind Louis begins to shift, clouds morphing from piles of gold-tinged wool to scoops of pink and orange sherbet. And at some point, Harry forgets-- forgets not to watch. And when he catches himself, it’s fine. Louis’ watching him right back. Sandwiches on the Shady Shore (2k) “You don’t have to do this,” Louis says. It’s hot in the little kitchen, even with the windows open and a breeze blowing in. Harry feels a flush enfold him from the inside out. “I know,” he says. And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.”

Trust Me to Take You Home by hattalove / @hattalove (4k)

“I made breakfast,” says Harry, and Louis can feel him smile where his face is smushed against Louis’s shoulder blade. “Full English. All for you.” Louis finally opens his eyes, and blinks. “What about the others?” “Asleep,” Harry whispers, “it’s five in the morning.”

or, a clichéd tale of two boys in love and their first valentine's day together.

#28th appreciation #may fic rec #monthly fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

[settingmyheartablaze]

not even close - t. inumaki x reader

———————————————————————————

The sunrise was beginning to turn the sky from its slumbering ebony to a soft pink, and the chilly spring air whisked through the blossoms that fluttered to the ground.

Standing on a street corner was the slowly accumulating huddle of the Tokyo as well as Kyoto’s students, who had been dual-assigned to a particularly nasty bunch of curses. The schools had decided it was a good idea to begin intermingling the two, in hopes of fostering more collaboration and teamwork. While a few of them had been less than thrilled a the proposal, it seemed others had found it to be a stroke of luck.

“I think I should make my move,” Todo said in infatuation as he stood beside Panda and Maki at the corner and watching your legs idly swing off the bench you were perched on.

You were sat a few feet away with Nobara and Itadori stood directly in front of you, chatting your ear off rather animatedly for so early in the morning. Maki followed his eyes to your figure, who smiled warmly at your friends with eyes still puffed form sleep as the two carried on.

Glancing back at Todo with a smirk, she scoffed.

“Good luck getting her attention.”

Panda giggled in agreement, and Todo cocked his head in confusion. He let out a haughty laugh. “I think I know how to get a girl’s attention, especially when the competition is those two dopes.”

Maki’s brow raised slyly and then it seemed something behind Todo’s shoulder caught her attention. “Those dopes aren’t the ones you need to worry about.”

Todo frowned in confusion, glancing back over at you. In fact, the closer he looked, he’d say that despite your polite smile and responses, you didn’t seem particularly focused on the two in front of you. It might have just been the lasting sleepiness, but it almost seemed as if you were glancing about, looking for something else — or someone.

Todo turned back to Maki and Panda. “What do you mean—”

He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, and Inumaki strolled up leisurely, rubbing sleep from the eyes peeking just above his coat with a grumble. His usual smooth hair was a tousled mess, and he looked about one moment away from crashing down on the sidewalk. He held what looked to be a warm cup of coffee steaming up from his hands, but if he’d had any it didn’t seem to help one bit. It was a pretty amusing sight, and Todo snickered at seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

As he approached the three of them, Inumaki tossed Maki a small bag that she eagerly snatched up with hungry eyes. Peeking into the bag with satisfaction, she jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. ‘She’s over there.”

“What’s that?” Panda asked.

Maki licked her lips, pulling a fresh muffin from the bag. “Payment for my services.”

Todo watched dumbfounded as Inumaki made his way towards your group.

The moment you’d caught him approaching in your peripheral, you turned sharply and a blush flooded your cheeks. You did a horrible job at hiding the smile now blooming on your face, and it was so bright Todo thought he was about to be blinded.

“Toge, there you are!” You chirped happily.

Amidst the flurry of mumbled greetings he received from the group, Inumaki paid nobody else any mind, heading straight for the spot beside you on the bench and plopping down, silently handing you the cup in his hand.

Todo didn’t think your cheeks could have pinked any more, but it seemed he was wrong.

“What? For me?” You asked softly.

The boy beside you grunted out something reminiscent of ‘salmon’ before his head hit your shoulder. His eyes closed right away, and you smiled warmly with eyes wide in suprise.

“This is my favorite shop! How’d you know?” You took a sip and your legs stomped softly on the ground in excitement.

Inumaki waved a hand haphazardly, too tired and far too comfortable (and maybe just a bit too shy) to reach for his phone and reveal his informant.

Todo watched in complete and utter defeat as you slowly coaxed Inumaki to awaken while you all awaited the rest of your classmates, insisting he share the drink with you as he quietly listened to you chatter. His soft gaze didn’t once leave yours, completely enraptured by you and the rather strange dream you were recounting from the night prior.

“And then you told Gojo-sensei to shit himse — Oh, that reminds me.” Your amused recount paused, and your hand reached in your pocket to pull out a small bottle of throat medicine. “You forgot this in my room.”

Todo’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “How long have they been going out?” He whined.

Maki rolled her eyes as if she’d been asked that question a thousand times. “Wouldn’t we all like to know?” Her voiced was laced with irritation and a mouthful of muffin. “They think they’re just friends.”

Watching at the way you two looked at each other, Todo was baffled. You two weren’t friends — not even close.

#inumaki x reader #inumaki #jjk #jjk x reader #toge inumaki #toge x reader #jjk oneshot #oneshot #toge inumaki x reader #jujutsu Kaisen