#y’all don’t understand how close and personal it is to me that he fuckin climbed up a TREE because they are petty and don’t want to ask for
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The enemies to friends to lovers jumped out
#me on my way with the boyfriends to square up to a bunch of high school losers who have nothing#better to do than harass hiyori#y’all don’t understand how close and personal it is to me that he fuckin climbed up a TREE because they are petty and don’t want to ask for#the other’s numbers. some telenovela shiz right there#someya and shibasaki pinning can actually be SO personal#why are men like that. why do they gotta be difficult and petty and slow burn like that. i hate them (affectionate)#someya#shibasaki#herotaru#heroine tarumono#anime
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The Hargrove-Mayfield House
I’ve been working on drafting this floorplan for ages, but now that I’ve got quarantine amounts of free-time I’ve come back to it with extra focus and determination to get this thing right, so here you go!
reference photos with explanation will be below the cut, because there are some weird-ass bits to this house that I feel need explanation/clarification/general screaming, and that in some case are very variable depending on what canon you want to go with.
anyway! with the front of the house down there at the bottom, and keeping in mind this house is on a corner lot (streets on both sides that have exterior doors), here ya go!
(also just a heads-up that the exact proportions of everything was difficult to figure off based on a lot of these photos, and this house very much resisted attempts to be sketched out on graph paper, so while this is as close as I could get it without losing my mind, it’s definitely got some little issues here and there still.)
OK! so starting from the front, we’re all familiar with the view from the street, the long, thin porch along the front. but did y’all know the front of the house isn’t as flat as the porch makes it seem?
this is supported by the inside of the house, where we have Billy’s room in that pushed-out bit, and the front door visible through his door, leading into a living room in the pushed-back bit. (if any of that makes sense.) not the best screenshot but you can at least kind of see the corner behind Billy’s door and how it’s clearly not level with the front door
now, I’m not gonna spend much time on Billy’s room because @gothyringwald has already done the work of the gods with that one (IN THREE PARTS, MY HERO), except to briefly say yes, there is a fireplace in here, it’s the back-end of a slightly bigger one in the front room. also, not that it’s at all important cause I won’t be using s3 screencaps for his room, but his room was very clearly not filmed in the same house for s3. the view out Billy’s door changes from the front door to a hallway from s2 to s3 (and there are no hallways in this house, as you’ll see), and the view out his front-facing window changes from porch to bushes. it drove me crazy the whole time so I just had to throw that out there.
anyway, for now I want to turn your attention towards Max’s room while we’re still in here because...
first of all, yes there is a door straight into Max’s room from Billy’s, and no, I have not included it on my layout. That’s because in the show they use a bookcase on both sides of the door to hide it, so you could canonically say that there is no door. to be fair, though, they use this inset shelf thing that looks like in actual fact it wouldn’t work if both of them had one. so, use the door if it suits you, use the bookshelves if they suit you. canon is putty in your hands.
also I wanna point out that in the very bottom right corner of this shot you can see the corner of some wall trim. that’s the edge of Billy’s closet. and yes, it does stick out from the wall like that. at a guess I’d say about half of that wall is closet, and half of it is pushed back by exactly the closet’s depth, giving us this corner look.
moving on to the view into Max’s room, we can see the tiny closet space that her room has. it doesn’t appear much wider than the door to it is wide, though it is deeper than it appears from this angle, probably by about a foot. we can also see her door to the living room from here.
moving into Max’s room...
in season 2 you can feel the camera operators doing their damn best to show as little of this room as possible because it’s so weird and got so many doors, but in s3 we do get a little bit of a better feel and the screenshots I got from there do seem consistent enough with real-estate photos and s2 that I’m like 99% sure they shot Max’s bedroom scenes in the same house as in s2.
so, firstly we have a shot of that inset bookcase I mentioned hiding the door to Billy’s room, and Max’s lil closet to the right. it takes a stupid about of staring at the bottom right corner, but you can just barely see the shadow of what must be the closet’s outer corner there.
panning left, we can see Max’s windows, prime for sneaking out to do nerd shit. in the show they put a lil firewood storage thing directly under her windows for extra sneaking out potential, but I can only put so many pictures in here before tumblr makes me split this thing into two posts so I’ll refrain from adding a cap of that.
note also that that’s Billy’s window closer to us, and Susan & Neil’s at the back of the house. Billy’s would seem ideal for climbing out of as well, but some asshole put his sound system and vanity right under that window so idk how he’d manage it if he did. I’d love to see the elaborate shifting-stuff-around/gymnastics that goes into Billy’s regular sneaking out, though, if anybody wants to get on that.
ok, back into Max’s room cause we’re not done with it yet. we’ve accounted for a door that may or may not be between hers and Billy’s room, one to a lil closet space, and the one into the living room, but this girl has two more fuckin doors in her room.
unfortunately these two doors are never photographed together, so I didn’t figure out that there are two on this last wall until literally this morning while editing this post, but hopefully I can take you along my thought process on why it has to be two different doors.
essentially the thought process is, (L) no wall at all between darkened/blocked-off door and corner, (R) at least a foot of flat wall to the left of door. going back to all of my screencaps with this knowledge makes a whole lot of stuff make more sense, but again I can’t put everything here. If there’s demand for more detailed screencaps and stuff maybe I’ll make a part 2, but for now I’m trying to be as succinct as possible. (lol)
so anyway, that door on the right clearly goes into the third bedroom of the house, because why the hell not have all the bedrooms connected, and that one Susan’s standing in front of in the screencap, I believe, leads to a bathroom. (to be clear, there are two doors in that screencap. one on the left that leads to the living room as mentioned before, and the one I’m talking about, behind her, which set designers have understandably tried to disguise as a closet.)
this is purely process of elimination, since the real estate photo I have of the bathroom does not show the door, does not have any windows, and doesn’t even remotely resemble the bathroom used in s3, but the only other bathroom space I was able to find in this house was off the dining room, which is definitely not big enough to hold a bath or shower. I may throw out all the reference photos of bathrooms I have if anyone is desperately curious, but for now in my head it’s just a general haze of ~a bathroom exists here~
anyway, from that right door let’s walk on into Neil and Susan’s tiny-ass bedroom.
this room is so comically small I’m amazed Billy didn’t get saddled with it, honestly, but if you want some headcanons about why he might not have, my go-to is that Neil /or Susan realized this bedroom was the best for any teen with a mind for mischief. while the windows are definitely not as ideal for climbing out of as Max and Billy’s are, if we take that door on the left we’re in the pantry (yes, the pantry. stay with me), and it’s a straight trip from there out the side door, and out to your smokin’ hot Camaro.
idk how sound that logic is, but it’s what I’ve got lol
But anyway, now we’ve reached the end of the house on one side, so I’m gonna take us back to the front living room and work our way back from there. here we’ve a quick glance at the other end of that fireplace, and another angle of how the front door and Billy’s door relate to each other:
the two parts of the living room are separated by this wide arch, and that further bit is where we see Billy’s weights and weight bench in s2. one could say that this is just normally where he keeps it, but my own personal hc is that they’re only there in s2 because the family just moved in, and that they later get moved to his room and the basement, leaving the living room more usable.
It’s hard to be 100% sure, but looking at these photos, particularly at the floor, I believe the second living room area is narrower (as shown in the floorplan sketch). It makes Max’s room make a little more sense size- and shape-wise, and it seems like all the pictures I have of this space confirm it.
anyway, the open door on the right of the second living room bit leads back into Max’s room, and through another arch we can see into the kitchen, and beyond that the dining room.
for some reason the only shots of the kitchen are taken from the back of the house looking forward, so try not to get dizzy as we spin around here.
as you can see we’re now pointed towards the living room, and on our left (towards the bedrooms) we see the doors to that pantry I mentioned earlier. I don’t have any photos of the inside of the pantry, alas. those would solve probably every question I have about the ground floor of this house. if you look closely they look like bi-fold doors to me, but they could just open inward.
we can also definitely tell that the wall on the left side of that arch is much shallower(?) than it is on the living room side, if that makes sense. essentially, these rooms on the left side of the house are getting narrower as they go on.
until the dining room! this room narrows a little on the right side, which you can see from exterior shots, but the pantry/bathroom weirdness in the middle of the house has definitely cleared out of the way to make room for dining here. we’ve also got two big-ass windows (comparatively), since going by the direction of the wood floors, the window on the left is not the same window as the one on the right.
and going by the existence of a window in that bathroom, we know this part of the house has three external-facing walls -- or however a professional would say that. (essentially, Susan and Neil’s bedroom can’t be overlapping the other side of the bathroom.)
we’ve been pretty low on storage space here so far, so that + the fact that the door in the corner looks nothing like a door to the outside + the fact that there’s a door to the outside literally on the other side of the room, gives me the conviction that this door is just into closet space. it could be a door to the basement, but we’ve seen the back of the house before and it doesn’t look like there’s enough space there for a whole other room full of staircase. observe:
not to mention Neil’s headlights are illuminating a perfectly good door to the basement right there, although idk shit about houses with basements. do they usually have two ways down if they’re built like this? I wouldn’t know, I live on a fault-line. we don’t do that shit here.
ANYWAY, that’s the house. somehow I feel like I’ve covered like way too much, and also not nearly enough, so do let me know if anything isn’t clear and I’ll try to fix it/do an additional post and link that. cause even if most of us are writing Billy living outside of Old Cherry Road/Cherry Lane at this point, this kind of shit is always handy to have around, at least imo?
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If It Hurts
Summary: A run goes terribly wrong and Daryl, wounded, must depend on you to get the two of you out. But will the threat be more than you and the group can handle?
Daryl Dixon x Reader
Authors Note: This is for Ria’s writing challenge. @im-a-writer-right. I hope this turned out alright, I enjoyed writing it! Also the prompts are in bold.
Warnings: Violence, Gore, unwanted sexual comments(not smutty), cussing, and a whole lots of angst which was actually unintentional and just happened, but now I’m crying at 12 in the morning. Death, and changing POV’s.
Word Count: 4k...oops.
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A song played softly from the trucks radio as Rick, Carol and you hum along. Glenn and Maggie are seated in the back of the truck with the bags you’ll all set out with when you get to your destination. You were about an hour or two from the prison, out on a supply run. Daryl found a small, deserted town and thought it would be a good idea to look for supplies there. We were low on medicine and food, hoping to find that and whatever else you could, if we were lucky we’d find seeds too.
Your window was rolled down and you stuck your arm out of it, spreading your fingers and letting the wind caress your hand. After the world went to shit, you learned to enjoy the little things, life was too short not to. You shiver as Daryl glances back at you all, smiling at the way your hand was lazily out of the car, you gave him a small wave and he revved up his engine in acknowledgment. Carol and Rick share a look which you don’t bother to make a snarky comment about, these happy moments were fleeting and you weren’t going to ruin the mood.
You knew the truth, and accepted it long ago. You loved Daryl, an overwhelming amount at times, and he loved you too. But in a way that you weren’t sure if he was just being friendly or not. So you kept quite, and decided that just being around him was good enough for you. You have known Daryl since before y’all found Ricks group. He saved you from a group of walkers that killed your friend, you were devastated and scared of being alone. He took you in, well, you followed him for three days until he let you join him begrudgingly. He says he only kept ya around for walker bait if he’d ever need it. But you knew this wasn’t the truth.
You were the person closest to Daryl, able to understand him and him you. You were always the first one to ease a smile out of him, or the first to piss him off. Daryl was the one person, who if he was by your side, you always felt better about the world you all lived in today.
The easiness of the day filled your heart with joy, and you hollered out the window, letting the wind carry your voice else where. Everyone in the truck chuckled, but up ahead Daryl sped up and screamed into the window with you. Rick sped up too, laughing. Everyone knew that no walker could touch you at this speed.
Soon, you all arrived at the destination. Glenn and Maggie climbed out of the truck, engaged in a conversation. You sneak a glance at the couple, and internally cooed at the way Glenn was looking at Maggie. As if she was the world. You watched as Daryl approached the group and wondered if you looked at him that way. He caught you staring and winked, you ignore your blush and push forwards some confidence.
“Miss me?” You call out to his approaching figure. He shrugs off his crossbow and gives you a pointed look.
“Nah, I was just thinkin’ bout how quite it was without ya, until ya screamed out to the fuckin’ wind.” He feigned annoyance at first, then looked back at you with a slight smile. You roll your eyes, and bring your hand to your mouth, pretending to zip it up. He was the one to roll his eyes now as he walks past you towards Carol to retrieve a bag from her. She was handing them out from the back of the truck, and when Daryl came back he threw one at you. You caught it with a tight smile. Nearly hit your damn face.
Everyone was quite as Rick explained the plan. “We move as a unit, no one needs to get hurt today. Last time we checked this place is was uninhabited, but watch out for walkers. It’s a big town so lets not split up...unless we need the time. Alright.” He frees his gun from the holster and holds it out infront of him.
“Thought you said it was uninhabited.” Glenn said, Rick glanced back at him.
“I also said ‘last time’.” Rick replies, Carol chimed in with a warm smile. Seems I wasn’t the only one enjoying the day.
“Nothing wrong with being careful.” She says, pulling out her own gun and following Rick towards the first store. Glenn and Maggie move infront of you and then Daryl pulls out his crossbow and nudges you to move forward. You push him back a bit before walking forward, you don’t need to see him to know the massive eyeroll he just pulled.
It was only out in the open like this, with people he trusted and loved that he was comfortable. Back at the prison, with all the new arrivals, Daryl was closed off and distant from a lot of people. Some might even call him brooding.
You guys made it through three separate stores before everything went to shit, and just like that the peaceful day turned into a living nightmare.
You were walking the sidewalk with Maggie, keeping watch while the others cleared out the inside of the fourth building. You heard Daryl whistle letting you know it was all clear, when the first shot rang out. Everything felt slow as you sprinted around the side of the building, covering yourself. You looked around for the source of the sound, but saw no one. You saw no one. You were filled with dread as you realized you were all alone. Maggie must have ran inside the store, instead of to the corner of it, out in the open...god how could you be such a dumbass.
You put a hand over your mouth and pushed further against the wall as you heard footsteps. They echoed against the eerie silence in the town, horror filled you as you counted numerous steps all at once. There was a group of hostile survivors, and you were alone with a pistol and an axe. You tried to fill yourself with positive thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re a badass. You could take them, easy...
“Come on out, pretty thing.” A deep voice rumbled out, the sound filled your body with queasiness. “I’d like to run a number on you...”He let out a loud wolf whistle and you heard a shuffle from inside the store, before it fell deathly silent again. Only the sounds of footsteps getting closer and closer.
“C’mon, we just want one of ya. Though we’d take two given the chance.” Obnoxious laughter rings out before a new, younger voice speaks up.
“Pretty girls are hard to find now a days. Why don’t you be nice and come out for us. We’ll treat ya for it.” The laughter sounded again, and this time it was closer. You gripped your pistol tighter, finger rigid on the trigger. Then a loud sound came from inside the store, yelling and crashing.
“Daryl no!” It was Carols voice, and you swear you heard Rick telling him to wait. But it was too late, your heart stopped at the thought of Daryl getting hurt. The footsteps fade away from you and towards the entrance of the door. Through the commotion you heard the whiz of a crossbows bolt. A loud groan rang out and your heart gave out, until you heard another bolt and some gunshots.
You stepped out from the corner only to be dragged away as more gunshots rang out. You scream out and fight to get away, but the strong arm was unmoving from your waist. You were dragged into the nearest store, you looked around at the unfamiliar surrounding and noticed it was one you haven’t checked yet. You scream louder, hoping someone from your group would hear you. “Shut it, girl.” The hand moved from your waist and you spun around to see Daryl. His crossbow in one hand, and the one previously wrapped around your waist was hugging his own.
“Daryl...”You breathe out. You felt more relieved than you should considering the still risky situation you were in. “I thought...”Your eyes water and you pull Daryl into your chest for a tight hug. He stiffens for a moment before hugging you with one arm, the crossbow digging into your shoulder but you didn’t care. He tucks his head away in the crook of your neck, his lips part and you feel his hot breath roll down your neck and shoulder.
“I know. Me too.” He grunts out, his voice rougher than usual. You pull away confused. You feel a strange wetness against your side and look down to see your shirt covered in blood, but it wasn’t your own. At a shocking speed you look at Daryls stomach to see him holding his side, blooding leaking through his fingers.
Your chest heaves and constricts at the sight. His shirt dripped blood every few seconds and his shirt seemed to be just a red puddle against his waist. You blink back tears and grab Daryls shoulder, not able to look him in the eye. He was hurt because of you...
“Lie down.” You say stiffly. He grunts out and tries to move towards the door and the chorus of gunshots and fighting outside.
“M’ fine. We need to go. Ain’t safe.” You take his other shoulder and meet his stare.
“Lie down.” You say softly. He only stares at you. Your heart beats even faster and your primal fear of losing him kicks in. You were losing too much time, he was losing too much time and too much blood. “Daryl, lie the fuck down and let me help you. Please.” He lets you grab the crossbow from his hand and lightly set it down, his hand was sticky with blood. But he doesn’t lie down, he looks behind you towards the window where we can see Rick duck behind a car after firing another round at these dangerous strangers.
He looks back down at you, ready to say another thing about leaving, but his words fall short as he sees tears stream down your face. You roughly wipe them away. With one last look at you, and an agonized groan, Daryl laid down. Before he fell back completely you stopped him.
“On your side, I need to see if there is an exit wound.” Daryl stared at you a while longer, you’ve only seen his scars once and it turned into a fight. He couldn’t look at you for days after. “Please, Daryl I can’t lose you. You don’t get to die today because you’re a stubborn asshole.” You beg. He tucks his head under his arm and avoids your eyes as he turns on his side. You wipe at more tears furiously as he waits for you to look at him in disgust. You remind yourself to talk to him about this later, as you see the distant and uncomfortable expression he wears, glaring at the shelf across from him. You weren’t sure if it was the gunshot wound, or this moment you two were about to relive that made him act this way.
“May I look?” You ask him softly, knowing that either way you were going to, but you knew he’d appreciate it. He nods slowly, taking a deep breath not unnoticed by you. You kneel down and replace his hand apply pressure with your own, smaller one, his fingers retracted slightly from you, before he placed his shaking hand on top of yours. Softly you lift the fabric up his back. He winces slightly. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you see that right above his hip, there was a gaping hole. An exit wound, and it didn’t seem to be in a critical place. You quickly stole a look at his scars, it was unintentional but filled your heart with even more love for the man. He was strong, and he would survive this...he had to.
But his skin felt feverish, and you looked at his face to find him shockingly pale. You only then noticed the small puddle of blood forming around your knees. You quickly push his hand down on the wound again and let your hand apply pressure to the exit wound, a small sob escaping your lips.
“That bad huh?” He grunts out. You control your breathing, refusing to lose control and let him die. You quickly grab a shirt from the nearest rack and press it against the wound.
“Stay here.” You say, deciding on a plan. His head whips to yours, and he groans out in pain, eyes fluttering dangerously.
“You ain’t leaving.”He demands.
“Well, you ain’t dying. I’ll be back before you know it.” You offer him a soft smile before kissing his temple, and running out the door. Lips burning. You ignore his shouts as you open the door, and burst out onto the battlefield. Your group hidden behind cars, you feared the body count and pain you’d all carry after today. With Daryl in the condition he was in, your heart couldn’t stand the thought of any of your make shift family members dead. Rick catches your eye, and you notice his expression falter at the sight of all the blood on you. “Daryl.” You mouth to him. “Cover me.” He swallows his emotions and nods to you. Getting the attention of everyone as you run towards the store you saw needles in, and left your bag in, which had some alcohol in it.
Daryl’s POV
Daryl keeps his eyes trained on (Y/N) for as far as he can see through the broken window. His side crippled with pain, and every time his eyes unfocused a bit more he’d be struck with a wave of hopelessness. Is that was dying feels like? Well, ain’t a bad way to go, he thought, taking the bullet for someone you love. His thoughts turn bitter as he glances out the window, anxiety crushing his lungs. Only for ‘er to fucking run out and kill ‘erself.
“(Y/N)” He called once more. He listened for your sweet voice, hoping to hear you say some smartass thing. Hoping he wouldn’t die alone.
“(Y/N)!” He croaked out once more. He didn’t care if he was being too loud, he was scared, he’d never say it out loud, but he was. His heart sighed as he heard shuffled footsteps. Ready to tell you off for being reckless. But as he glanced over his shoulder he was met with the sagging, bloody face of the undead.
Despite his pain he uses his feet to push himself backwards up against a cold metal shelf, empty of food. A low moan left the walkers mouth and Daryl reached for his crossbow a few feet away. He couldn’t reach it. Daryl gritted his teeth and overeached, he fell on his shot side and yelled out in pain. A new rush of blood pushes past the fabric of the two shirts.
With a weak, trembling hand he shot the walker in the shoulder. He gritted his teeth, still on his side, and shot the walker again, this time, through the head. The walker fell to the floor not too far from him. Daryl stared in it’s shallow eyes, wondering if that’ll be him soon. It sure felt like it. He lays and stares at the walker when he noticed something wrong. It was silent.
No more gunshots, or yells. No more fighting. He propped himself up on his elbow painfully, and glanced out the window. What he saw made his heart drop. He gripped his crossbow tighter, and struggled to get up. But he just collapsed back in a puddle of his own blood.
“We got the girl.” A man was holding you by the hair with one hand, and holding a knife to your throat with the other. He rubbed his graying beard against the side of your face in lustful affection. “Just the one I was hoping for too.” The men behind him that were still alive chuckled. Daryl let out a growl worst then the walkers and tried to aim his crossbow at the man whose arms you were squirming in. Arms you were hurtin’ in, he thought. But even a fool knew the bolt would fall short.
Daryl felt like he was drowning in cold sweat and blood, the crossbow slipped from his hand.
“You let us walk away safely, and we won’t kill her.” The man says. Rick stood from behind the car, holding his weapon free hands in the air, a sign of surrender, but Daryl saw the strategy, or at least hoped there was one.
“Give us the girl, and no one gets hurt.” Rick says.
“Don’t you fuckin’ move.” The guy yells, firming his grip on (Y/N)’s hair making her hands fly to his wrist. He shakes her hands off of him and throws her to the ground. He pulls out his gun and aims it at her head. “Don’t move...”
Rick stopped walking. Daryl wanted to shout for him to kill the fucker, or better yet he wish he could do it himself. But he was starting to feel weaker and weaker, until his legs were near numb and he couldn’t get up despite how much he struggled. He could die, but he could never watch you die. He closed his heavy eyes, giving into his tiredness as he hears a gunshot ring out. It echoes in his head long after it is silent. He didn’t want to look, his heart heavy, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. He couldn’t feel a thing.
*****
Daryl was rocking. Like a baby in a mothers arms, he was being tossed around. But how? Where was he? His eyes opened briefly before closing, the sun was never this bright before. He wasn’t sure why, but he called your name.
As if an angel answered, he heard your voice. “I’m here Daryl. God, please wake up. I’m here!” You sounded more upset than he has ever heard you. Were you in danger?
“(Y/N)?” He calls out again. As his haze begins to fade, the confusion is filled with pain. A loud, gritty moan of agony left his lips as his side withers with pain. How did he get shot? The question was fleeting as everything in the last 2 hours came back to him. Survivors, the group attacked, (Y/N) shot. But how were you here?
“The men?” He asks. He felt a clammy hand caress his cheek.
“They’re dead.” It was Carol’s shaky voice.
Someone was prodding at his gunshot wound, the pain worse than ever before. He pushed the hand away only for it to return with more force. His eyes shot open, and he caught himself staring at your face. His pain became less relevant as he took in yours. His hand instinctively reached to trace the fresh black eye you had, his fingers fell down to your busted lip. Groggily he pulled on your lip, seeing that the cut ran deep inside your mouth. You faltered in your movement and looked at him, leaning into his touch. He pulls away as everywhere his hand touched, a trial of his blood was left. You looked into his eyes, the redness and panic in them scared Daryl.
Daryl looked around, Carol and Maggie were crouched down beside him, both looked like they were holding back tears. Daryl’s hand fell next to (Y/N)’s knee and he felt the familiar truck underneath them. Daryl was rocking like a baby, because Rick was driving like a mad man to get to the prison.
Daryl looked back at you but his expression turned sour as an overwhelming amount of pain reached all the way up from his side. He glanced down to see your hands soaked in blood, between your shaking fingers was a threaded needle. He closed his eyes as you pulled the needle through his side again to bring the skin back together. He didn’t want to watch, instead he opened his eyes again and kept them on you even if you weren’t looking back. He couldn’t keep his pain a secret anymore no matter how hard he tried, another cry falling from his lips.
Your lips pucker out and another tear falls from your puffy eyes. You stop for a second and look down at him. Daryl catches his breath. Right now he just saw and felt you, a little broken, but you made him feel good, at peace. You made the pain bearable as you softly pull back his hair from his sticky forehead. It took him a while until he realized you were speaking.
“...Daryl, this is going to be uncomfortable but it needs to be done. If it hurts...”Your words falter and you bite your lip, holding back a sob. Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew there was no line you wouldn’t cross to save him. “...Just take me by hand and hold me tight. It’ll all be over soon.” He stared at you expressionless, feeling like he was in a fever dream. Maybe he was, and maybe you were actually dead. The thought alone caused him terrible pain and he closed his eyes, nodding to you. He opened them and reached for your bloody hand. His grip was weak, but his fingers gripped onto with all he had at the moment and it gave you the strength to carry on. You use the thin thread you pulled out of your shirt in a quick compromise, to stitch his wound shut. Praying the bleeding would cease. His grip grew tighter as the process dragged on, stitching was harder with one hand. His eyes found your soft lips, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to finally kiss them. He was a fool, he thinks, a fool to let you pass him by. He gave your hand one last squeeze before he closes his eyes for the last time, thinking of you.
Your POV
You finished the last stitch and stared hesitantly at the job you have done, Hershel would have done better. Maggie, who was watching with a horrified expression, cut the thread with her knife and gave you a weak smile. Carol was caressing Daryl’s head, her fingers running through his hair, either to calm him down, or herself. Daryl gave your hand a tight, long squeeze, causing you to smile down at him. But his hand soon fell limp, and his eyes fluttered closed. Carol whimpers and grabbed his face, desperate not to lose another person she loves.
“Daryl...” She sobs out. His eyebrows weren’t tight in a knot, or raised sassily up, he wasn’t frowning, and he didn’t look troubled. He didn’t look alive. With a shaky breath you call his name, again and again you scream at him. You can’t hear as Maggie yells for the prison gates to be open, or as Rick shouts out for Hershel.
You gather Daryls hand and hold it tight against your chest, your tears running down his forearm as you make his hand cradle your cheek. Your tears leave his hands a little cleaner than before, and you hope that if there is a heaven that he’ll be allowed in, even with all the blood on his hands and the things he has done. You push your face further into his hands, gripping them with your own and missing the warmth he gave you just seconds ago.
“Daryl...” Your voice leaves you, as Hershel, Rick and Glenn drag Daryls body to the medical cell block. You claw at Carols arms wrapped around your waist, her face tucked into your neck, crying. Maggie holds you both, her burning eyes following Daryl’s body through the field, and the bloody trail that follows.
You sat outside of that cellblock for hours that day, knowing the truth. It was void of life. You heard hours earlier as Rick sobbed, driving the knife through his head. Daryl, your Daryl, wouldn’t ever wake up.
#riaswritingchallenge#daryldixon#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagine#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#twd#twd fic#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead#angst#twd one shot#twd fandom#Riaswritingchallange
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The Masterlist
Hey. I know it’s been ages since my last fic rec, but my motivation is slowly building again and I think I’m going to have a big one coming up soon. Meanwhile, I tossed a ton onto @0nceuponafanfic, so she might have something brewing for y’all. Anyways, I’ve been updating this thing, so if you ever need a pile to fall back on when I’m MIA, here you go!
Please tell me if I’m missing something, like a trigger warning or a link to someone’s Tumblr. Also don’t be afraid to rec me your favorite fics or even your own fics! I wanna see them. If you want to request fic recs, I’m open for those too! Even if you don’t have fics or even a specific purpose, come to my inbox and mess around. I’m bored and want human interaction.
‘allo people! yeah yeah yeah It’s been AGES since the last update so I’mma dump some new fics into here soon. I’m also gonna fix up the organization a bit. so sayonara and see ya later!
As always, stay hydrated!
Happy pride, everyone!
Last updated 6/23
1-Chapter bits of fluff or angst or something else
one hell of a hook | A TodoBaku fic... but don’t let that drive you away! This is an amazing fic, so please give it a try before you judge.
Mafia Au | What if Present Mic was a yakuza boss and Aizawa was a spy? (There’s a lot more to this, including a lot more art, over at @nartothelar‘s blog)
UA Music Conservatory | a series of one-shots in an AU where UA is actually a music school.
Silent Shadow | has the potential to evolve into something bigger. Nomu!Midoriya is Kurogiri’s protege. So cool.
Present Mic’s Awesome Mixtape 2.0 | Aizawa doesn’t like any kind of music. Shocking, right? After discovering this, Yamada has a new goal. Find a type of music Aizawa likes.
cultivating something so divine | Vet!Kiribaku, with so much fluff and animals and mutual pining that even the hardest of hearts can be softened.
The story of how Midoriya Izuku won the Sport Festival | I love a good dose of Crack Treated Seriously, and here’s some.
Trash Goblin Finds Love | “Bakugou. This is the gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”
president of the krbk club | Whenever something exciting happens, what does Midoriya do? Whip out his notebooks, of course. So what happens when Bakugou isn’t pushing Kirishima away?
It's Hard to Get Past Some Things | Whenever Midoriya’s drunk, Todoroki’s his designated caretaker. What happens when drunk Midoriya decides to talk about kids (or pups, whatever)? (A/B/O)
it's just the little things | Bakugou’s interactions over the years (stealing from the official summary here)
The Knock-On Effect | There’s only a couple types of knocks that Bakugou likes. Kirishima’s knocks in the middle of the night are one of them.
Smile for me, would you? | Unlike the rest of us, Present Mics has goals, and actually follows through with them. This goal? Make his neighbor, Shouta Aizawa, smile.
Shadowed Soul, Electric Eyes (We'll Be Okay) | What if Tokoyami and Kaminari, people with completely different quirks, got quirk-swapped?
A Matter of Pride | How everyone in BNHA came out. That’s it. It’s so fluffy, though.
firedancer | Unlike the rest of these, this one has the tiniest bit of angst. So little you’d need a microscope, though. Whenever someone falls in love, romantically, platonically, or any other way, a flower appears on their skin. Kirishima has a ton of flowers, but where are Bakugou’s?
A Mile in New Shoes (and A Mile Too Far) | Artist!Bakugou is invited to his first house party... Luckily he has three guys showing him around.
Boy things | Ashido loves her friends, but sometimes it gets lonely being the only girl in the Bakusquad. Good thing they understand!
come home to me | Kiribaku might’ve gotten a telepathic connection... There’s so much fluff in this one!
one to ten | Kirishima wants to date Bakugou, but he’s gotta climb the ladder of friendship first!
Get Mad! | Bakugou teaches Eri how to cope, and Eri returns the favor.
bakugatsu | Yeah, I know this is 20 chapters long, but it’s basically 20 drabbles compiled together by the amazing wonhaebunny!
a mix of six | Probably my favorite series of all time, no matter the fandom. What happens when Aizawa and Hizashi adopt Bakugou, Todoroki, Shinsou and Eri?
KiriBaku Week 2020 | A series by PoorUnfortunateSoul - full of fluff!
Safety In Numbers | A little bit of fluff and a lot of parental Erasermic.
Multi-chapter Stories
How To Get Adopted Without Letting Your Dad Know He's Adopting You, A Guide By Class 1-A | Good old fashioned school fluff. (WIP)
Dandelion | No masterlist is complete without at least one fic from the legendary Broken Realities, right? So here’s @owlf45‘s fic... (there’s a lot more! Check out the Broken Realities Collection on Ao3 for at least some of them... I bet there’s a lot more floating around.) (WIP)
Phosphenes | A Naruto/BNHA crossover, Mina is reborn from Naruto, and learns to navigate life even with such a big burden on her shoulders. (WIP)
Flour Power | Kirishima and Bakugou are supposed to take care of a sack of flour for a school project. What could go wrong?
Not really a villain, but close enough | “Aizawa didn't expect the raid to go so well. he didn't expect the informant to be so useful and well-mannered. who was hi kidding? Aizawa didn't expect the informant to be a kid. but the green-eyed boy cuffed to the interrogation table was wiling to help, and Aizawa wasn't one to look the gift horse in the mouth“ (WIP)
green haze | Vigilante!Midoriya is known as the Green Haze, a vigilante, Eraserhead’s supposed to capture. Shenanigans happen.
2am Knows All Secrets | One of those classic Kiribaku fics that trickle through the ranks. Lots of fluff, with good ol’ tropes like sharing a bed and mutual pining and Good Friends, and-it’s great.
The life of a hero | Such a good series. It’s so amazing. It gives angst and pain but then soothes it over with fluff, but then it tears you apart... and then it gives you life... a great read.
The Last Resort | This is basically pure angst. It’s so painful, but it’s such a good story... Shinsou was sold as a young child to a yakuza. This yakuza would rent out people for their quirks... This is an amazing read, but don’t expect any fluff from this. (Check the tags! WIP)
¥300 Shampoo | When Aizawa’s working on a book at the cafe, he certainly doesn’t expect someone pulling his hair. He definitely doesn’t expect getting a free haircut out of it, either.
quote love unquote | Take the official summary “When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.”
lovin is easy | Blasty doesn’t get “feelings,” so here’s five times Bakugou doesn’t get love and one time he does. (WIP)
The Empath & The Mind Reader | Bakugou is a mind reader, and Kirishima is a empath. If both of them can literally know what the other person’s feeling/thinking, why are they still dancing around each other? (WIP, Contains smut, Anxiety attacks)
and finally I see the world in color (the violet stands out, thanks to you) | This fic deserves a LOT more than just 76 kudos. Sometimes people miss out on amazing fics just because it’s a femslash. Momojirou, where Yaoyaorozu is a businesslady who is bored with her life and everything else, until she happens upon the rambunctious band Dark Shadow. Seriously, please read this! (WIP)
Behind The Scenes | A KiriBaku actor AU. What happens when you start falling for your co-star - and your on-screen love interest? (WIP, It’s rated E for smut, but there isn’t any yet)
We Didn't Start the Fire | What if Touya decided to make something out of himself instead of becoming a villain? This is amazing, by the way. (WIP)
it seems i'm never letting go | Here’s how I summarized it to myself... “Koi no yokan... will Blasty experience it? (His sister left)” By the way, koi no yokan is basically love at first sight, Japanese-style. (WIP)
Lips Like Blood | What happens when Bakugou, a mage, falls in love with the one person who can’t love him back? (WIP)
Charm Me, Loser | A Hogwarts AU that has no right being that ingenius and amazing. My only problem with it is sorta small... There’s already a wizarding school in Japan... Why aren’t they going there? (WIP)
Gotta Get Away | Tsuyu and Bakugou are out getting some new hero merch together because of the new buddy system at UA. What happens when they’re mistaken for a couple? (WIP)
Opposed to the Typical | A fashion AU. This is ridiculously good. It feels like the author was actually in the Japanese fashion industry! (WIP, smut, past child abuse, mental health issues)
One Day at a Time | Pretty genius idea, actually. Bakugou and Uraraka are trapped in what is essentially a time-speeder-upper. What’s going to be a day for their classmates is going to be a year for them. What will they do in that year together? (WIP, it’s rated Mature but it’s pretty innocent so far)
The UA Quarantine Collection | Basically, a bunch of authors got together and made a ton of one-shots of what Class 1A is doing in quarentine. Technically it isn’t a coherent story, but I’m counting it as one. There’s two versions, a clean version and a version with all the smutty bits. The smutty one’s the second story in the series. This one’s linked to the clean one. (WIP)
Midoriya Fuckin' Izuku | This is an amazing fic! It has a ton of TWs, though. Make sure to read the tags before starting it! (WIP)
Seeing Double | A very good, and very long, fantasy AU. (WIP, smut)
Broken, but Still Good | Bakugou was rescued, after four years, from an illegal alpha fighting ring. Can Kirishima, a beta, help him back to society? Pay attention to the tags. (WIP, A/B/O)
Broken Wings | Kirishima’s a dragon who was rescued from the dragon slave trade by the mysterious Bakugou Katsuki, I don’t know what else to say. (WIP)
The Roast of Class 2-A | Have a crackfic. (WIP)
The Space Between | Midoriya’s a photojournalist who is just starting out. One fateful night, he goes to photograph the Antiheros in concert. (WIP, mild smut)
A Fissile Family | Bakugou’s been kidnapped by the League of Villains again. They’re actually sorta a weird family. (WIP)
Mochi Mochi | Just take the official summary. “Ochako never saw a problem with DM-ing an internationally known actor her grocery lists, absolutely certain that he'd never see them. That is—until he replies. And who the hell does he think he is to tell her mochi isn't real food?”
Green as the Leaves, and Red as a Rose | A TodoDeku flower shop AU. (WIP)
remember my name | Post-UA, Bakugou realizes that some things are for forever.
Blinding Shapes | What happens when soulmates, a blind abstract artist and a burnt out barista meet?
a heart swelled to bursting | Mind the tags, here. Training camp part 2 for Class 2A. (WIP)
manly man falls for manliest man | What happens when businessman!Kirishima meets his idol, and maybe biggest celebrity crush ever, actor!Bakugou? (Smut)
Miscellaneous Stuff From Other Fandoms
I have some Harry Potter fics lying around somewhere, so I’m going to add those later.
Stucco Hearts | One of my absolute favorite soulmate fics ever, from Percy Jackson.
Christmas and Chill | A old series I sorta just came across again from PJO.
The Florist and the Punk | Maybe another old series from PJO.
Hearts Need Love | Keep an eye on the tags! This is my favorite PJO fic of all time.
Our Songs | It’s good if I spent half an hour trying to find it again. It’s a Solangelo songfic.
Some random writers I recommend (A lot more coming along-I’m in the middle of a ton of different fics right now)
aloneintherain | @captainkirkk
wonhaebunny | @wonhaebunny
rosedvst
Sif (Rosae) | @intothedarknessigo
kiritime
sinderellaa
aloera | @aloera
Argentina | @junepixel
KuriKuri | @letaizawarest
#the pleb's fic recs#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heros of olympus#percy jackson#fic recs#kiribaku#bakushima#jiroumomo#tododeku#dabi is a todoroki#bakusquad#actor au#band au#mind reader#empath#artist au#coffee shop au#kacchaco#businessman au#flower shop au#league of villains#soulmates#fantasy au#fashion au
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Everything.
18-Year-Old!Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader
Author’s Note: The parts in italics signify a flashback, regular font signifies the present. ALSO, Five is 18 in this y’all. It’s easier to write it as if they’re all older tbh, we DO NOT stan pedophilia in this house.
Word Count: 3,919 (haha sorry)
Five loves you. He loves everything about you. But it’s hard for him to express that, so he decides to conceal it.
------------------------
You have no idea how you came to know the Hargreeves family. It all happened so fast and so coincidentally. You were normal and they, well, they were anything but that. Born exactly a month after the infamous 43, you grew up with the Umbrella Academy. . . literally, you grew up a mere two houses down from them.
When you were little, Klaus always told you he liked playing with someone normal, someone who wasn’t dead or someone who wasn’t full of powers to cheat in the games they’d play. It was easy for you to say that you got along fairly well with the Hargreeves kids, you’ve visited each of them on various occasions.
Luther and Diego always used you as a mediator or designated “side-chooser” for their arguments. . .this usually led to you scolding them or just simply walking out. When Klaus and Ben (well, before Ben died) had freetime, they usually spent it messing with you or doing something to get their minds off of whatever grueling training their father had just put them through. When Allison and Vanya were in dire need of time away from the boys, you happily accompanied them or invited them over for some peace and quiet.
And Five?
Oh.
Five was a different story.
Your relationship with Five was complicating, or more so, he was complicating. His whole being was complex. He always seemed different around you. It hadn't always been that way, but the older you all grew up, he just stopped being the Five you knew, it was almost as if he shut himself off in front of you. But there was another part of him that you got glimpses of but never seemed to understand. Another half of him seemed to appreciate you being around. You were good to his family and you were good to him. You were some sort of constant to him, like you were the only consistent person in his life. He liked that. He needed that.
It was the little things that made you question whatever your relationship was: The shameless glances you’d share from across the room, the smirk he’d give himself every time you’d say something snarky to any of his siblings, the stares that lasted a few seconds longer than they normally should, or the way he’d “accidentally” brush his hand against yours to feel some kind of reassurance. Honestly, there wasn’t a single thing in his life he could enjoy for the long run. With a dysfunctional family, a dysfunctional life, a superhuman ability, and the feeling of disconnection from the real world, he longed for someone real to be on his side for once. . and that someone was you.
But after 18 years of hardening himself around others, he constantly kept denying that fact. He forced himself to be stronger than the feelings he harbored toward you. The feeling of weakness, the vulnerability, the willingness to let his guard down around you. No. That can't happen. On the outside, he wore this coat of armor he’s never taken off. He was in denial: he doesn’t love you. He can’t. Why not? Even he doesn’t know. He just can’t. So without even telling you, Five decided to stop being Five. . .around you at least.
------------------------
“Five?” You whispered. He was sitting alone at the kitchen table with his hands holding his forehead as a cup of black coffee sat hot and untouched in front of him.
He looked up at you with tired and discouraged eyes,
“Hi.” He barely whispered back.
You sat at the seat next to him in a heartbeat. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t his usual self by the simple look he gave you. He was tired, drained. Sometimes, being a superhuman wasn’t everything it’s all cracked up to be. For Five especially, being able to jump from place to place, time to time, or era to era killed him.
“What’s going on, Five?” you pleaded gently.
He only responded with a heavy sigh. Instead of pushing it, you just sat with him at the kitchen table as the ticking of the clock emphatically ticked away time.
“I wish I had more time, Y/N.” He suddenly murmured under his breath.
You faced him, “More time for what?”
He opened his eyes and stared into the black swirl of coffee that leisurely spun in his mug; and without looking at you, he slid his hand slowly across the wooden table to meet yours, grasping onto your fingers.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his coffee cup radiate off his hands. You gently squeezed his fingers that wrapped around yours. Five glanced at the two of your hands clasped together, smiled softly to himself, and squeezed back.
------------------------
Anyway, you were the girl next door, you were who the Hargreeves called “Our Normal Human Friend.” After all these years, after Ben had died, after they had saved the world from ending, after they had battled it out with the Commission, they were shocked you had stayed their friend. After all, as Klaus put it, either their old friends died or they just didn’t want anything to do with a “really screwed up” family anymore.
Tonight, you were heading to the Academy to return some books Five had lent to you a few months ago. It was raining hard so you rushed through the kitchen entrance with a soaking umbrella pooling a puddle around your feet.
Diego stood at the kitchen counter, reading some newspaper and chewing on a soft cookie that Grace had made. He jerked at the sound of the back door thrashing open and reached for a knife, ready to throw it in your direction.
“Easy there, tiger!” You yelled, throwing the open umbrella in front of you (like that was going to help) “Jesus christ.”
He sighed. “Oh,” and turned back to the paper, “It’s just you.”
You rolled your eyes and retorted, setting your black umbrella against the wall. “Oh how funny, like you don’t love seeing me.”
He rolled his eyes and faced you, leaning up against the counter, “Yeah, no I don’t.”
You chuckled as you wiped your wet shoes across the welcome mat and reached for a cookie, swatting his hands that tried to block you from them. You took a teasing bite in front of him before walking past him, heading toward the living room thinking Five would be in there.
“He’s upstairs.” Diego stated without looking at you.
You stopped at the doorway and turned to him. A playful grin spreading slowly across his face. “What?”
“Five. He’s upstairs.”
“How’d you--”
Diego scoffed. “Those are his books right? He never lets anyone touch those damn things, plus it’s a little obvious you’re hopelessly in love with him.”
You’re mouth suddenly dropped open, your hands clutching the books closer to your chest.
“I am NOT hopelessly in love with him!”
“Oh quit kidding yourself, Y/N,” He teased, “You should see the look on your face whenever you see him. It’s quite cute actually. I mean if I’m being honest, it’s probably him more hopelessly in love with you.”
You laughed incredulously, “You’re fucking with me.”
“No, I’m fucking not.” He said as a matter of factly.
You were uneasy to believe Diego. Yeah, he was your friend, but would he really mess with you about Five? But Five wouldn’t keep things from you, well, that story has been different lately. “How would you know?”
“Y/N, I live with the damn man and you’re always here, do you really not see the way he looks at you? I mean he practically forces it off of his face because even he knows it’s so obvious.”
“I hate you.”
“Ha, no you don’t.”
“I’m leaving now.” You declared as you turned on your heels.
“Upstairs!” Diego called back. You took his word for it and climbed up the stairs, taking a right toward Five’s bedroom. You knocked on his door and waited for an answer, but no one came.
Slowly, you opened the door, just in case he was changing or something, and peaked in. But no one was in the room.
“Five?” You called.
Nothing. Fuckin’ Diego.
You sighed and walked across his room and set his books on his cluttered and messy side table. It was covered in books, pencils, and papers that were scribbled with various equations of the sorts. Before you turned to leave, you noticed a piece of twice-folded papers peaking out from under the books you set down. It had your name on it.
“What?” You whispered to yourself.
You pulled it out, examining the scribbled writing close.
Y/N.
Yeah, that was definitely your name and definitely Five’s handwriting. You’re curiosity peaked your interest, you had to open it. There were more than one pieces of paper folded together. What was this? You took a deep sigh before slowly unfolding the papers.
“Y/N,” it started.
Before you could even make out the first sentence scribbled in pen, a sudden whoosh of air snapped loudly behind you and voice suddenly spoke, “What the hell are you doing?”
You spun around and jumped against his dresser, clutching your hand to your chest. “Jesus Christ! Five!”
He eyed you, brows furrowed together.
“Diego said you’d be upstairs,” you swallowed, “I was just coming to give back your books.”
\Five’s jaw clenched as his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Without saying a word he marched over to you and snatched the folded papers from your hands, and then swiped his books from his side table.
You watched him ignore you as he began putting the books back in his immaculate bookshelf.
“Thanks for bringing these back, I was beginning to think you never would.”
“What was that?” You questioned, ignoring what he had just said and pointing to the folded papers clenched between his fist.
He answered you without making eye contact, “It’s nothing.”
“It has my name on it.” You attested firmly.
Five began losing his patience and responded through gritted teeth, “It’s. Nothing. Y/N.”
You marched toward him, getting as close as you could. “It has my name on it, it pertains to me, so don’t I have the right to even ask what it is?”
Suddenly, Five slammed a book into the shelf and turned to you with a near-raging glint in his eyes. “For God’s sake, Y/N, why part of ‘it’s nothing’ do you not understand?”
Before he could begin an angry rant, you grabbed the folded papers and turned away from him. The papers crinkled madly between your fingers. Five suddenly appeared in front of you, ripping the papers from you.
“What are you hiding from me, Five?” You exclaimed, “Why have you been hiding—“
“God, Y/N, mind your own business. You’re insufferable!”
You just stared at him with disbelief before regaining your composure. Was he really holding back? His expression didn’t change. He just glared at you with the same hard face and furrowed brows. You shook your head, you missed Five. What happened? “Get out,” he muttered.
Are you serious?
“Get out, Y/N.”
You couldn’t believe him. So, this is really how it was going to be. After all this time? “Fine.” You spat. “Keep secrets from me. It’s not like you haven’t been anyway.”
You grabbed your things and didn’t even look back at him before marching out of the room. Five didn’t follow. He didn’t even apparate to reach you.
------------------------
Five couldn’t move. One part of his brain screamed at him, telling him to run after you, the other part told him to stop. His body was stuck.
“Y/N..” His voiced wavered.
But the sound of your shoes stomping loudly down against the wooden staircase echoed throughout the hallway. He shut his eyes at the sound of the back door slamming shut.
“Shit.” He breathed. You literally walked out on him. Well, partly because he had yelled at you to, but it felt like you had just walked out of his life, and damn, that shit hurt hard.
------------------------
He always did this. Teleporting in and out of your room out of the blue was something Five did around you, but most of the time it was without warning
“Five, you know you’re my favorite but you gotta like, give a girl some warning.” You said standing at your bedroom doorway as the fifth Hargreeves child sat on the foot of your bed. He unfolded his arms and smiled at the sight of you in your pajamas with a toothbrush clutched in your hand.
“Everyone was being annoying as hell at home, and you’re the only person I knew who wouldn’t pester the shit outta me.” He answered. You laughed and narrowed your eyes down at him, “Don’t try me, Hargreeves.”
You moved toward your bed and flopped over with a tired groan, “Sometimes I wish I could drop out of school and join you guys.”
You heard Five laugh as if you were joking. “You know that’s not how it works, Y/N, plus there’s no way you’d want to join us.”
“Um, yeah I would? I could be like. . Number 8. .”
His heart began to race. There was no way he’d let you into any of danger he and his family were put into. You continued to babble anyway, “. . .I could be the normal one. . .the distraction. . .”
“No, Y/N!” He suddenly interjected. Your eyes widen at his sudden outburst, after all you had just been joking? You noticed he quickly backed down at the sound of his rising voice. He didn’t want to scare you. “I--sorry--it’s just--”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll get hurt.” He muttered under his breath
You couldn’t help but not suppress your smile. Instead of getting all blushy and giddy, you playfully nudged him. “Aww, does Five want to protect me from the bad bad world?”
He rolled his eyes.
“C’mon, Five, admit it, you love me sooo much!” You laughed, “You’d die without me!”
There was a split second in time, where Five wanted nothing more than to confess just that. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to keep you safe from the bad world. And maybe, just maybe, in that moment in time, he realized he would do anything to keep you from the dangerous life he lead. He loved you.
You waved your hand in front of his face. “Five?” He was staring at you like he was mesmerized almost, “Hello?”
He blinked suddenly, playing off his intense staring nonchalantly. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
You giggled. “Are you high?” You joked, “You want some water or somethin’?”
Five chuckled and his signature smirk spread across his face, “You trying to pester me now?”
You laughed, holding onto his arm, “No I swear!”
“I think I should go.” He teased, standing up.
“Noooo, Five don’t go!” You whined, tugging at his arm.
“Then promise me you’ll never wish to join this madness ever again?” He declared.
You squinted at him.
Then something in him dropped. His voice lowered, his eyes softened, the sarcastic and teasing Five evaporated into thin air, and his face suddenly molded into a state of gentleness. You were taken aback. Whenever you saw Five like this, you knew it was serious. But why was he so worked up about a joke you had made? “Y/N? Promise me?” He murmured lowly.
You hesitated a little, but when you realized how serious he was, you nodded and held out your pinky finger. “I promise.”
Five almost looked relieved when reached out to cross his pinky with yours. He sat down on your bed next to you again and stayed until late. He didn’t teleport back home till it was nearly midnight.
“Thanks for having me over,” he said moving to the middle of your room. You could only chuckled, “It’s not like I had a choice.”
He grinned to himself, “True.”
“Alright, Hargreeves, get outta here.”
He stared at you a few seconds more before saying, “See ya later,” as he saluted you zapping himself back home.
In a matter of seconds, he found himself in the middle of his own room instead of yours. He smiled to himself and thought about you for god knows how long. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your humour easily clicking with his. . . you were his constant. You were it.
And so before he went to bed, Five shuffled over to his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. At the top of the first page, he wrote your name. . .
“Y/N.”
. . .and began writing everything he could about you. He wrote everything he loved about you, everything he wished he could say to you, everything he would do for you. He wrote it all down. Everything. Everything.
------------------------
You hadn’t seen Five in days. Sure you went to visit his siblings, but you hadn’t gone to visit Five. You’d maybe catch a glimpse of him every now and then but it was as if things had gone back to how they were a few months ago. He just seemed. . .disinterested now. At one point, you both caught each others glances and awkwardly tore your eyes away from each other, but that was it. You missed him. You missed his voice. You missed his sarcasm. You missed seeing him teleporting into your room and waiting to rant to you about some equation he had just solved or the mission he and his family had just gotten back from. You just missed him.
It was around 11 o’clock when you had just left the Hargreeves household. You had just gone thrift-shopping with Allison and Vanya, and it took the entire day. Vanya had noticed something off about you when you came to watch her rehearse for a bit and suggested the three of you do something to take your mind off whatever it was. Needless to say, all three of you were quite productive. Amongst the multiple bags the three of you carried, Allison found this particularly soft pink boa and Vanya sported a thick varsity jacket and a blue pullover.
After dropping the Hargreeves girls off, you trudged back home, ready to knock out in bed. You were exhausted, who knew both Allison and Vanya would get a kick out of a simple past time?
Once you got up the stairs (which took a damn long time), you were so ready to just fling open your door and throw yourself over your bed.
Flinging your door open, the lights suddenly flicked on much to your extreme surprise and you found Five sitting on the edge of your bed with his arms folded, and the same intriguing expression written across his face.
“He-“HOLY SHIT!”
Five quickly jumped to his feet and used his ability to jump toward you and cover your mouth. “Jesus Y/N could you be any louder?” He reprimanded.
“Y/N?” You heard your mother call from the bottom of the staircase, “Are you alright?”
Five arched his eyebrows at you and slowly removed his hand from your face.
“Yeah mom,” You said, your voice hinting at a bit of wavering, “I’m okay.”
You shut your eyes, letting your heartbeat compose itself before shutting your bedroom door, and then subsequently smacking Five on his shoulder. . .multiple times.
“What the f--HEY--STOP!”
“What. The. Hell. Five. Hargreeves?” You whispered harshly, hitting him through those words. “You cannot just keep surprising me in my room when I least expect to see you? Seriously? Especially after you haven’t spoken to me--in what--like a week or so? No, I think it’s been longer! You totally just cut me off and I deserve an explanation!”
Five tried to interject, “Y/N”
But you kept ranting.
“Y/N.”
You wouldn’t stop.
“Y/N!” He tried again.
But damn you were persistent.
“Y/N, for crying out loud, are you going to let me speak or am I going to have to stop you?” He said over your tangent.
You stopped, but only to sarcastically say, “Try me, right now I dare--”
And much to your low expectations, he stopped you.
With his lips.
He stopped you. . .with his lips.
You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your hands were stuck by your sides as Five grabbed onto your shoulders, and slowly moved to cup your cheeks. His lips were soft and gentle against yours, he was not only trying to silence you from ranting, but he was also trying to get through to you.
After an unknown amount of time, he pulled away, shocked that even he had just done that. The room around you had suddenly fallen away, like the waves of an ocean quickly falling back into the sea. Your ears were rushing, your heart was beating a million beats per minute, and all you could see was Five, staring straight at you.
“Five. .” you whispered, taking a step toward him.
To your surprise, he didn’t move. “I’m sorry,” He suddenly blurted.
You shook your head, still feeling the pressure of his lips pressed against yours. “No. Don’t be sorry.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he started, “I couldn’t tell you anything because--I don’t know--I-“
“Five,” You said as you grabbed both of his hands. He looked up you, his eyes catching yours. “It’s okay, you can breathe.”
And somewhere in his hardened eyes, everything calmed down. His gaze softened and his heartbeat came to a steady beat. He looked down at your two hands holding his and smiled for the first time in a long time. He squeezed your hands in his. You chuckled and squeezed back.
“I have something for you.” He whispered.
He sat down at the edge your bed again and pulled a piece of folded paper out from the inside of his jacket pocket. It was the same letter that had your name on it. The same heavy letter you found in Five’s bedroom. “Oh Five, you don’t have to—“
“No.” He shook his head and handed it to you, “The last few days were. . .insane without you. I almost thought I lost you I—” He stopped and closed his eyes.
“It’s okay, Five.” You began, “I’m not mad at you.”
“It’s not that I’m worried you’re mad at me, Y/N, I’m mad at myself. I’m strong and brave enough to do other things like jump through time, or kill people, or save the goddamn world, but I’m not brave enough to tell you. . .how I feel.”
Your breath suddenly hitched. Was he actually saying what you think he was? Silence fell upon both of you as you both just enjoyed the presence of another in your dimly lit bedroom. “How do you feel..exactly?” You wondered
“I really care about you, Y/N, I always have.” He whispered, “You’re the only person in my life who has stayed by my side all this time.”
“I mean besides your family.” You added.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, besides my family.” He opened his mouth to say something, but passed on the moment.
“What, Five?” You pressed, “Say it.”
After what seemed like a while, Five just handed you the letter that held everything he harbored for you. It was heavy, like he had written every ounce of what he felt and poured it into paper, it seemed very un-Five like, but somehow, it seemed to be the only way to get through to you.
“I don’t want to watch you read it.” He said standing up and walking to the middle of your bedroom, “Take your time, and then we'll talk.”
You held the letter in your hand and smiled.
“i’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I’m pretty sure I should’ve told you that a long long time ago. You’re everything to me. You always have been, I’ve just never had the guts to tell you everything, how much you mean to me, y’know? But hey, here I am now.” He said, looking at you in that special way he always used to. However, this time, his eyes glinted with this intensity of deep affection. And with his hand in his pockets, he was grinning that signature grin you missed so much, and zapped himself back home again.
“God, I missed you, Five.” You whispered.
And without hesitating another beat, you quickly unfolded the pieces of paper bunched together and read the first line written clearly in Five’s penmanship.
“Y/N,”
--------------------------------
Authors Note: Message me your thoughts and or requests! This took me forever, so I’d appreciate feedback :)
#the umbrella academy imagine#five hargreeves x reader#five x reader#tua imagines#the umbrella academy imagines#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves imagine#five hargreeves headcanon#the umbrella academy fanfiction#five hargreeves
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That’s A First - Cable x Reader [Smut]
Request: Cable takes the reader's virginity? All fluffy and stuff.
Notes: Slight daddy kink, but y’all know what to expect with me.
(that was the softest gif I could find lmfao)
"You're kidding me."
"What?" you blush, pulling the wooly Deadpool blanket up over you. Wade had bought it for the X-Mansion when you all moved in, and Nathan hated it at first... before he realized how comfy it was.
Your chest is heaving, out of breath from making out with your boyfriend. You two had become a couple about three weeks ago, after months of dancing around each other at the mansion and on missions. One night, you two had both been sitting out in the courtyard, and had gotten to talking. The talking had lead to kissing, which had led to Nathan getting handsy. It didn't go anywhere that night, and you hadn't actually been honest with the older mutant as to why.
You're still a virgin. You've been nervous about letting Nathan know, since he's much older and far more experienced. You also worry to no end that he may not want the responsibility of being your first time. Maybe he already went through all that, and now he's just looking for a bit of fun...
You bite your lip. You could be fun. You could pretend like you knew what to do. Rough, dirty sex sounded nice to you, especially on nights when you were alone with your vibrator, imagining Nathan's gravelly voice whispering his intentions in your ear.
Deep down though, one fact kept itching at you: you did want your first time to be special.
The past few weeks had consisted of frustration, longing, and confusion. You wanted him so bad, whenever he got up close to you, buried his face in your hair and grabbed your ass. Just the smell of him around you made you want to jump him. Wade was the only other person who knew, and after he had figured it out, he had stopped making virgin jokes around you, instead talking about the joys of abstinence and self love. Every time, he gets the finger from you.
Nathan had sort of figured out your little proximity problem the other day.
"What's got you so wired, huh?" he smirked, tucking a piece of hair behind your hair, "It's like you can't sit still around me."
"I'm just feeling restless,"
"Yeah, I can see that," he continues to smirk, eyes running down your body. "Try a run. They calm me down."
Fuck.
All this has led to you not being able to hold back any longer tonight.
About a half hour ago, you and Nathan had been watching Nightmare on Elm Street, until his hand slowly running up and down your rib cage under your shirt had become too much. Rolling over onto him, you had captured his lips, grinding down hard into his crotch until you were soaking. Nathan, surprised at your display of promiscuity, had happily indulged you, rolling you over under him on the couch and pulling your panties down. One finger deep inside of your throbbing pussy though, and you could tell your cover had been blown.
"You got something to tell me?" Nathan asks. He's not mad, but his eyes are firm. He wants the truth out, now.
"I'm..." you whisper, thighs rubbing together, "Fuck, I'm a virgin." You look away, and Nathan takes a deep breath.
"Right."
Your eyes squeeze shut, and you groan. "Shit, I didn't want you to know. I'm so sorry." It all comes pouring out. "I don't know what to do. I've never touched a man's dick before, never made a guy come--"
"Hey, hey," Nathan hushes you, sitting back on his heels. "Why the fuck are you embarrassed?"
You hesitate. "Well... I don't know. I really wanted to be good for you." His eyes twinkle a little (even his real eye).
"Just because you've never gotten fucked before doesn't mean you won't be good, hun. It just means I've gotta take my time with you. Show you how it feels with a man."
You swallow, turned on beyond belief now.
"So you don't... mind?" you murmur.
"Nah," he waves it off, "Course not. I'm gonna take good care of you." He glances up at you. "I have to ask. You sure you want your first time to be me?"
You breathe out, sitting forward a little.
"There's no one I'd rather get fucked by," you moan, and with that, he rips the blanket off you, and pushes his finger back in, gently working it in to open you up.
"That feel good?" he whispers. You nod, gasping a little. It didn't hurt as much as you thought it would, as you had been using your own fingers for years, but then, you had no idea what to expect once he went all the way. You thought you would be nervous before it happened. Instead, you were thrilled.
"Tell me what works," he muses, smoothing his hand up your stomach as he fingers you steadily, "What doesn't... you control how fast we go."
You nod again, and bite your lip. "You can go harder."
His lips quirk up. "That's daddy's girl."
You moan loudly at the name, relieved that he had had the same idea. You had been desperate to call the older man that ever since laying eyes on him.
He adds another finger, beginning to curve up and massaging that spot deep inside your pussy. After a moment, he slowly tries one more finger, three deep now, and starts to coax you open enough so he can fit.
"That hurt?" he asks softly, pressing a kiss to your lower stomach. You shudder, and shake your head.
"Not yet."
"Don't worry now," he reminds, "We'll go as slow as you need. No rush, baby girl."
He then trails his lips up your inner thighs, sending little shivers through you, and suddenly, it's as if you've died and gone to heaven.
"Fuck!"
"Mm, you've got a dirty mouth on you, kid," he grins up, and goes back down on you, licking around your clit until you're quivering. You never knew oral could feel that good. Nathan fingers you more as he licks you out noisily, making fully sure you were wet enough to take him, and encourages you to tug on his hair. Silver strands between your fingers, you begin to hear his grunts, and notice his urgency, how he's rutting slightly against your knee.
"You can do it," you moan, eyes half lidded in lust. He looks up at you, pupils dilated.
"You're sure, now?"
"I'm so fuckin' sure, oh god--" you gasp, pussy clenching around his fingers, and he nods, climbing up between your legs. His large body settles on top of you, keeping himself up on his forearms as you hook your heels over his back.
"Please," you urge, and his eyebrows knit, a look of pure desire on his face as he kisses you with everything. While he's kissing you, he undoes his pants, and strokes himself a few times. Reaching under the couch, he grabs a condom, and you blink hazily, looking down. "How...?"
"Wade keeps them all over the place," was the only explanation, which you instantly accepted.
"This is going to hurt a bit," Nathan says against your lips, "Just hold onto me, talk yourself through it if you need to."
He slowly buries himself in you, inch by inch, and you whimper slightly at the stretch. Soon though, you've taken him in fully, and want more.
You nod fervently. "Please. Please more, yeah, that's good, fuck me," you breathe, and he smiles, burying his face in your soft neck as he begins to thrust with deep, careful movements. With every thrust, your breasts bounce between the two of you, and he pauses every now and then to lick and suckle your nipples. You dig your fingers into his back, clutching onto his metal arm for purchase as he grunts your name.
"That's... that's so good..." you moan, already feeling your orgasm approach.
"You close?"
"So close..."
He exhales, hair falling into his face. You lean up to kiss him again, and he obliges, kissing you over and over as he keeps thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, until--
"Oh, fuck! Fuck, Nathan!" you whine, and arch your back as he slams in and finishes with you.
"Mmmph," he groans as he comes in the condom, and your mouth stays open for a good thirty seconds, letting your orgasm pleasurably fade.
"That was unbelievable," you say, and he sits up, pulling the condom off and throwing it on top of Wade's face on the blanket.
"How do you feel?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. You smile, crawling over to lay down across his lap.
"Perfect," you whisper, and wrap your arms around him as he drapes his bicep around you, holding you close to his chest. You feel yourself dozing, and he pulls you even closer, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"You felt amazing, (y/n)." His hand stalls. "I understand why you kept the secret, but something like that... I don't want you to keep something like that from me. You got it?"
You nod. "Okay."
He strokes your hair back, running his metal arm up your back soothingly. "I love you, hun."
You gasp a little, and warmth spreads through you. "...I love you too, Nate."
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#cable#cable x reader#cable deadpool#cable deadpool 2#josh brolin#josh brolin thirst#josh brolin x reader#cable fuckers#nathan summers#nathan summers x reader#reader x nathan summers#nathan summers smut#cable smut#cable fanfic#deadpool 2#deadpool#deadpool 2 fanfiction#virginity#virgin!reader#dubstep daddy fics#smut#deadpool smut#josh brolin is daddy
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chapter 15: have you heard the one about…
Hey, I feel like this one needs a preface, if only because Chris shows up briefly, in a very lighthearted scene, and it's a tough time of year to feel very lighthearted. All I will say, inarticulately, is that I started tinkering with and ultimately sharing this old project last year to help me process what happened. Something about having an alternate universe where I could keep things exactly the way I wanted them, keep everybody safe, felt healing. I hope it feels that way for you, too.
So that's enough of that stuff. Peace, love, and I hope y’all like dirty jokes.
Tuesday, October 23rd, 1990
shit. Shit. Shit! SHIT! What was that??
I let go of my lip only when I'm positive I’ve regained enough control of myself not to say anything completely insane out loud. I keep my eyes shut tight though… whether to avoid the awful, crashing reality of looking my boyfriend in the eyes and facing what a terrible person I am, or whether I'm just not ready to surrender the stolen image behind my eyelids quite yet, I can't begin to understand.
Meanwhile, Alex seems totally oblivious as he rides down from his own high, pressing a kiss to my damp forehead.
“Mmmh, where did that come from?” he mutters, brushing my hair back from my face.
Your guess is as good as mine. Well, maybe not exactly…
I shake my head, still not feeling entirely trustworthy enough to speak, and let out a little laugh, shaky and slightly hysterical-sounding.
“Well, whatever it was, it was fuckin’ hot…” he says, nuzzling my nose.
Oh no, don't be sweet, please, after all this time, don't suddenly start being sweet now…
“I'm gonna, uhm... I’ll be right back,” I stutter, nodding in the direction of the door. Really smooth, Cora, Christ Almighty.
After disentangling myself from him and bolting to the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face for several seconds while I try to get my heart rate under control. But it's no use, every time I close my eyes I see the same thing… I try glaring at my own reflection instead, hoping to scowl some sense into myself.
God, get a grip Cora, it's nothing, okay? It's just been so long since you even had sex, you're all mixed up. And it doesn't mean anything, you were just hanging out with him earlier tonight, that's why he popped into your head, just a totally innocent fluke of the subconscious… and you know your subconscious is a crazy motherfucker sometimes … but it doesn't mean anything, right?
It means one big thing, at least. It means I am the world's most horrible girlfriend. I didn't even want Alex tonight, not specifically… I didn't even want him to kiss or touch me, I just wanted one thing… even before I thought of, uhm, someone else… so where do we go from here? If things have gotten so hollow and disconnected that the only sex we’re ever going to have now is this meaningless and empty? Doesn't this mean we’re completely through, if I can't even trust myself not to use him while I fantasize about someone else?
And of all the someone elses, it wasn't just anyone, it was Stone! Stone?! Fuck, it's like my subconscious is on a mission to destroy me. What was it about him tonight? How did he get me so unglued? What made me say such an idiotic thing to him? He probably thinks I’m insane now, or some kind of damn groupie or something. I have a thing for you playing an acoustic… What the fuck, brain, have you been working on this scheme ever since that day at the fucking gallery? That level of treason takes commitment, kudos. But seriously, Stone?
...okay, fine, admit it, Stone’s not the problem here. He’s actually pretty fucking great. He’s insightful, and hilarious, and brilliant, and talented, and lately he's been a lot less of a shit for whatever reason… last night, he seemed so much more sincere, or secure, or something, I can’t figure out what it was... and okay fine yes shut up he is also extremely good-looking shut up already. But it's one thing to respect and admire a friend, or even acknowledge their empirical attractiveness. It's another thing altogether to mentally cheat with one of them.
I scrunch up my face, like I can somehow squint hard enough to crush all these thoughts of him out of my disordered mind.
I grope for the shower faucet and turn it on, climbing in before the water even has a chance to heat up. I don't know how I expect soap and water to wash this night away, but with shaking hands and a sick heart, I have to try.
*
When Alex's alarm goes off, I slam my eyes shut and pretend to sleep. I spent the whole night staring at the ceiling while he snored softly, trying to figure out how I was going to face him in the morning. And the coward’s way out wins. After waiting the usual amount of time to get ready for work and only crack an eye open when I hear the front door open and shut. At least after my shame shower last night, getting myself ready this morning is a quick process… oh, look, a silver lining…
The only glimmer of clarity I found in my panicked thoughts all night was that if there’s any hope for me at all, any hope of retaining any decency or value as a girlfriend and human being, I’ve got to stay the fuck away from Stone for a while. No, strike that, make that all of the Mookie guys, just to be safe. My heart aches at the thought of such an extensive amputation. This could get messy.
The one thing that can make me smile right now is the sight of my little brother in pajama pants, eating cereal on the couch and watching garbage morning news.
“Morning, sunshine!” he quips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You look like shit, C. Didn’t you sleep?” He peers at me through his shaggy bangs.
I shake my head and gravitate towards the coffee pot. “No. Busy week at school, I guess… I’ve got a couple exams next week…”
He nods thoughtfully. “...your bratty kid brother all up in your business…”
“You know you’re not, drama queen.”
“Yeah, well, I was thinking, I’m liking this Portland idea more and more. I was gonna call around today and see if I can set something up for this weekend.”
My heart throbs painfully again. “So soon?”
“Well, yeah, C, I have to, like, find a job and be a productive member of society, I can’t freeload off of you and Alex forever.”
Definitely my little brother. I frown at him for long enough that he gets off the couch and comes over to give me a quick hug.
“What’s going on with you out here, Cora? You seem so unhappy.”
“I’m not, I --” I swear to god, I’m not, it’s just that none of the right things are bringing me happiness anymore, and I can’t begin to explain that to him “-- I’m okay,” I finish weakly.
“Oh yeah, sure… and you and Alex, that’s okay too?”
“What do you --”
“Come on, it’s obvious, it’s been obvious since the day I got here. Maybe not to you, but I have the benefit of not having seen you in a while. You two are done. You know I love him to bits, C, but you gotta cut him loose if you’re done.”
Guilt churns through my chest as I echo him. “If I’m done…”
“Cora, you’re not happy. I fucking hate that. I don’t know what’s going on, and I for sure know you’re not going to tell me, but you deserve to be happy. You’re the smart one, you can figure it out.”
I allow him to pull me into another hug, which gives me a chance to try and squash the sob I can feel rising up in my throat and the tears pricking my eyes. Just as I think I’ve gotten it under control, there’s a knock at the door.
“Thanks, kiddo,” I mumble as he lets me go.
“You can repay me by letting me use up all your hot water,” he cackles, heading toward the hallway to take a shower.
I frown at Eddie in confusion when I find him standing outside my door, exposing one of the most obvious flaws in my plan. It’s a little tricky to amputate people from your life when they live across the hall.
“What’s up, bud?”
“Hey, sorry, hope it’s not too early, uh… hey, you okay?” he frowns back at me, inspecting my face.
“Yeah, uh, just… something in my eye.”
“Uh huh,” he muses, clearly not buying it but not pushing me for further details. Thank goodness for that.
“Anyway, what’s up?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, we’re gonna be at the gallery all day, we gotta record these demos, but uhm, we happened upon these six tickets for the game tonight, preseason game, Bulls at SuperSonics…”
“Oh right, your Chicago roots,” we share a grin. Damn it, I always forget about those dimples until they blind me.
“That’s right,” he beams.
“Your team’s got my guy, you know.”
“Who?”
“Jordan, who else?”
“Really?” he chuckles. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”
“He’s a Tar Heel, Eddie, of course!”
“Oh man, so then this is perfect timing… we’re all going, the whole group, Lucy’s coming too, and Dave was gonna come but he can’t make it, so I was wondering if you wanted his ticket.”
The distraction of Michael Jordan is immediately replaced by panic swamping my brain at the thought of seeing Stone again so soon. Operation Amputation doesn’t seem to be going so well. And the thought of trying to explain to Lucy why I can’t hang out with her and her boyfriend gives me a bellyache. Why do you have to be so nice to me, Eddie? Be a jerk, make it easier.
“I really shouldn’t… you know, I’ve got a lot of work, and my brother’s leaving soon, and Alex is gone all next week… I should probably stay pretty close to home this week…”
Eddie nods sincerely, wrinkling his forehead. “Sure, yeah, I totally get that. Well, hopefully we see you around soon. You, uhm, you really helped me out last night, you know.”
Without another word, he turns on his heels and starts down the hallway. Suddenly, I remember something I should have said to him already, and I yell out to get his attention, “hey Eddie!”
He whirls around and gives me a questioning look.
“You did great last night.”
He lets loose another one of those massive, dimpled smiles, nods once, and disappears down the stairwell.
***
I decide to cut through the park on my way back. Maybe it’s not the most direct route from my house to the gallery, and I know I need to get back, but it’s a more scenic ride on the bike, and since last night I’ve been looking for any opportunity to be alone with my thoughts.
You know I have a thing for you playing an acoustic…
I still get a thrill in my veins every time I replay it in my head. The little smile, the color in her cheeks, the awkwardness that took over as soon as she realized she’d said it out loud. It was undeniable, even for Cora. She’s gotta admit it now.
But what if she doesn’t? What if she regrets it? What if I try to talk to her about it and she bites my head off yet again? Talking to her last night felt so great, and as much as I want us to finally air out all of our feelings, I don’t want to blow up our whole friendship by fixating on an impossible crush. I just want us to start being more honest with each other. I want her to be more honest with herself. I know she’s not happy, I...
Way up ahead, I spot a redheaded girl on a bike heading towards me on the path… that’s not her, is it? Jesus, man, get a grip, that’s ridiculous. Why would she be all the way up in this part of town? You’re hallucinating her.
Except…
“Stone?” The redhead in my thoughts is the same one braking right in front of my path, and I stop dead, blinking like a deer in the headlights. Funny thing is, she’s got the same expression on her face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Cora asks, looking a little wild-eyed.
“I live around here, what’s your excuse?”
“I, uh,” she stammers, “just heading up to UW. Classes, and, uh, I wanted to do some stuff in the lab beforehand...”
“This is kinda out of your way though, isn’t it?”
“Uhm, I guess,” she chews her lip and looks around like she’s just realizing where she is, “but it’s pretty, and I guess…”
“It’s okay, Red, I’m taking the scenic route too.”
She fixes me with a questioning expression but can’t come up with anything to say. I can’t get over how nervous she looks. Something really shook her up, I just wish I knew what it was.
“I’m heading back down your way, actually,” I explain, “gotta get back to the gallery, but my parents are out of town for a couple weeks so I’m on geriatric dog piss break duty.”
“Glamorous. Well, I don’t want to keep you…”
“It’s okay.” I glance at my watch. “Did you eat lunch yet?”
“Uhm, yeah, why?”
“I don’t know, just wanted to know if you wanted to get a bite to eat.”
“I just told you, I already ate.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“So you very sensibly asked me to eat lunch with you because…?” she asks wryly, putting a giant crack in that nervous shell.
“I don’t know,” I smile stupidly, thankful for an idea that just popped into my head. “Hey, but there’s this great little ice cream place near here, we should go…”
“Ice cream? It’s almost November.”
“Right? Damn the man! Let’s go get ice cream in 50-degree weather. This place is worth it, honestly.”
“I’m sure it’s great, but I really should get to the lab…”
“Come on, Wet Blanket, there’s always time for ice cream. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream… in the land of the ice and snow…”
“What the fuck are you even talking about?” she laughs.
“That’s how the song goes, you uncultured swine, the ice cream song.”
“So Zeppelin ripped off a 1920s novelty song?”
“Honestly who didn’t they rip off? Come on, are we getting ice cream or not?”
Her smile broadens. “You’re not gonna drop it, are you?”
“You’re quick, Red.”
We steer our bikes across the park to the place I’m thinking of, talking idly on the way about nothing and everything, and she’s becoming more relaxed by the minute. Maybe this means things are really changing between us now. Maybe she doesn't regret what she said. Maybe the nerves are just because she’s finally letting her guard down.
We park our bikes outside the ice cream parlor and step inside. While she contemplates the choices, I place my order because I know exactly what I want.
“Seriously?” she asks with a snort. “Old lady butter pecan? That's what you're going with?”
“Is there a problem here?”
“No problem at all, granny,” she snickers as she scans the freezer case to make her own choice. “Actually, that's kinda perfect.”
“Granny?? I'm all man, Red. And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, perfect?”
The clerk hands me my cone and glances between us, obviously waiting for Cora to make up her mind but too polite to say anything. Cora, meanwhile, is occupied with way more important things.
“Uh huh. I don't know, butter pecan just makes sense. Like, it's you, in ice cream form. It's a little ironic, so it's got that going on, but it's also undeniably one of the best, most underrated flavors. And it's probably kind of a pain in the ass to make it just right, a little finicky, so the details are important. It explains you perfectly.”
“I'm not sure if I want you to keep describing me or order some damn ice cream so you’ll shut up,” I make like I’m going to mash my ice cream cone in her face, and she squeals with laughter. The clerk sighs and gives us a pleading look.
“Strawberry, please,” Cora finally says.
“Oh hell no, you're not getting off that easy,” I shake my head.
“And your problem would be…?” she raises a lazy eyebrow.
“In no possible scenario are you strawberry ice cream, my fine feisty friend.”
“Bonus points for alliteration, but I was not choosing myself as ice cream, I just fuckin’ wanted strawberry.” A mischievous smile spreads across her face. “But since you brought it up, what ice cream flavor am I?”
We pay for our cones -- I tried to pay for hers but she rolled her eyes and teased that it wasn't a date -- and go sit outside on a bench, which is ridiculous in this weather, but I’ve got a very serious question to ponder and a beautiful girl to eat ice cream with, so who gives a fuck if it's a little cold outside. None of it ever makes sense with her. That's why I love her.
As I'm figuring out how to define her in flavor terms, I glance over and watch her take a bite of her ice cream, thinking of how sweet she looks when she's completely unaware of having an audience. Well, bite’s not really the right word, she doesn't exactly use her teeth, and what kind of psychopath bites ice cream, anyway… but she doesn't simply lick the whole thing, either, except for occasionally running her tongue along the bottom edge to catch a drip… no, it's more like she gives a little lick to one chosen spot, and then applies her lips to melt a little circle of the ice cream, pulling it inwards, then licking again, starting over… uh, Jesus… lucky ice cream...
Her eyes travel up to mine just as she’s about to give another small lick, and she lets out a self-conscious giggle. “You're melting, Stoner.”
“Wha…? Oh,” I switch my attention to my own ice cream, which is starting to run in a little rivulet down my hand, so I busy myself cleaning it up with my own tongue to stop myself from thinking about hers. It doesn't work particularly well… I mean my hand’s clean now, but my thoughts...
“So, did you decide?”
“Mmhmm,” I say, simultaneously trying to corral my hormones and make sure I don't have ice cream on my face like a total dork, “I mean, you're something weird, let's just get that out of the way right now.”
“Granted.”
“Strawberry is way too sweet.”
“Hey!” She elbows me hard and I almost lose the whole cone to the sidewalk.
“Obviously you’re a sweetheart,” I snort. “But, like, strawberry's too… accessible, or something. Too mainstream.”
“Mmmhk,” she says skeptically through a mouthful of ice cream. I will not stare. I must not stare.
“So you're a weirder one. Something completely awesome, but an acquired taste. Offbeat, unknowable, unpredictable. But that’s the fun part. Most people totally wouldn’t get the appeal…”
“Well, definitely don’t quit your day job for a career in ice cream marketing…”
“Hush. What I meant was, maybe you wouldn’t find it in every shop, but that’s a shame, because it’s the best one when you do find it. Except, it’s a little scary, too, like… the novelty makes it cool, and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be awesome, but can I really handle a whole serving of something so unfamiliar? So what would that even be? Blueberry? Like, I never see blueberry ice cream anywhere but it sounds so fucking cool… but even that’s not quite right, ugh…”
She’s watching me ramble with the most curious expression, and she hasn’t even noticed that her own ice cream is dripping down her fingers. I nod at her and she jumps a bit before trying to clean up the mess and again running her tongue around the rim of the ice cream cone. Deep, steady breaths, man, come on, be cool. She smiles at me again.
“Offbeat scary blueberry, huh? I don’t know whether to be intensely flattered or completely insulted.”
“See? Perfect,” I beam at her, triumphant.
“You’re such a dick,” she giggles, her cheeks reddening just a little. Okay, if both of our minds are thinking about dicks, I might as well make the most of this opportunity.
“You wanna hear a joke?” I ask her, eyeing her as I take a bite out of the sugar cone.
“Always.”
“Okay, well it’s not really weather-appropriate, but I think it’ll still work… have you heard the one about the penguin driving down from Alaska to his vacation down south --”
“Penguins don’t live in Alaska,” she frowns.
“Excuse me?”
“There are no penguins in Alaska, Stone, they live in the Southern Hemisphere.”
“This is what bothers you? The inaccuracy of the penguin’s habitat? Not, oh I don’t know, the fact that the penguin is DRIVING?”
“Well I was gonna get to that next, but as the resident scientist, I felt obligated to --”
“It’s a joke, you fucking pedant!”
“-- it’s a pretty piss-poor joke so far.”
“Yeah, because of all the pedantic interruptions. Here, shove some ice cream in there, maybe that’ll help,” I nudge her cone up towards her face. “Okay, so who the fuck knows, maybe he’s fleeing a zoo or something, anyway, he’s driving south…”
“...probably to get back to the Southern Hemisphere where he belongs…”
“God damn it,” I laugh. “Okay, fine, have it your way. So he’s driving home to the Southern Hemisphere after VISITING Alaska, and somewhere in Arizona, in that intense desert heat, his car gives out. So he calls a tow truck and ends up at this repair shop in a little town, you know the type, just a big Main Street but nothing else.”
“Sure.” She takes the last bite of her cone and crumples up the napkin.
“Okay. So the mechanic tells him it’ll be about an hour to figure out what’s wrong with the car, so the penguin waddles over to this cute little ice cream shop across the street.”
“Ah, synergy, I see what you did there,” she grins.
“I’m good that way. So the penguin gets himself some ice cream, and he’s sitting down enjoying it…”
“What flavor?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a joke killer? No? Alright, fine, it’s vanilla. And he loves it, right, he’s devouring it with his little bill. But penguins are not the most dextrous of animals, not having hands and all… so he’s having trouble managing his treat with his little flippers, gets a little messy, and it's all hot out so the ice cream's melting, you know how it is. But he doesn’t care because he’s having a grand old time. Anyway, the hour’s up, so he waddles back over to the repair shop and asks the mechanic if he’s found the problem with his car. The mechanic looks at him and says, ‘it looks like you blew a seal.’ The penguin freaks out and says, ‘no no, it’s just ice cream!’”
The subtle red tint in her cheeks creeps through her whole face and her eyes widen for just a moment before her shoulders start shaking and her face scrunches up. I’ve never seen her laugh so hard that she forgets to make noise, but it’s so fucking irresistible that somehow I’m doing it now too, and soon we’re both laugh-sobbing so hard my sides are aching. After several minutes and a lot of disapproving glances from passersby, we manage to collect ourselves. Cora wipes a tear from her eye.
“Okay okay okay, my turn... uh, have you heard the one about the nun who --”
“Oh, please, Red, your Catholic schoolgirl humor is no match for a fellating penguin.”
“You think so? Shows what you know about Catholic school.” Her playful smile takes on a hint of puzzlement. “Hey, when did I tell you I went to Catholic school?”
“Uhm,” I take a moment to make sure I’ve got my dates right, “it was my birthday.”
“Really? You remembered that?”
“Yeah, wow, I listen to you. What a concept.”
There’s an expression of shock in her eyes that’s going to be the death of me. I nudge her with my shoulder, “just make with the nun joke, will ya?”
“Yeah, uhm… okay, so Mother Superior’s at the convent, and she hears a knock on the door. She opens it up and is shocked to find two leprechauns standing at the door, holding their hats in their hands, all respectable-like…”
“Leprechauns? And my story was implausible?”
“Nah, you’re just funny when you’re all riled up,” she gives me a wicked look. “Anyway, the first leprechaun says, ‘Mother Superior, would you be havin’ any leprechaun nuns in this convent?’ And she says, ‘no, my son, we have no leprechaun nuns in this convent.’ So he asks, ‘and are there any leprechaun nuns in all of Ireland?’ And she says, ‘no, my son, I don’t believe there’s a single leprechaun nun in all of Ireland.’ So the leprechaun turns to his buddy and says, ‘oi, I told ye ye’d been fuckin’ a penguin!’”
We both crack up again, and this time she slumps into my shoulder while she tries to pull herself together. I lean back into her, trying to catch my breath too, but also jealously hoarding the feeling of having her so close. She lifts her face to look at me, her eyes still shining with laughter, her mouth curved open in an inviting smile, close enough that I can count the freckles on her nose, feel her breath on my lips… she smells like strawberries...
She inhales sharply and then tries to disguise it as a laugh as she sits up straight, fidgeting, her shoulders tensed up practically around her ears. “Ha, uhm, sugar high,” she stammers, blushing furiously.
She may be rattled, but I’m experiencing the exact opposite sensation. My brain seems to have slowed every other operation down to a crawl in order to make room for how all-consumingly I want to kiss her. “yeah, maybe,” I mumble sluggishly, trying not to smile too wide.
“We should probably get going, huh?” She bites her lip, glancing at our bikes. I nod, trying to think of something to break the tension.
“Uh, speaking of bikes… and nuns... have you heard the one about the side street?”
She shakes her head, watching me with a wary smile as we start walking our bikes back through the park toward the point where our routes diverge.
“Really, they didn’t teach you that one in Catholic school? The one about the two nuns who rode their bikes to the market, and they’re heading back to the convent? They decide to take a side street, this little cobblestone alley. After a couple of blocks, one nun says to the other, ‘I’ve never come this way before!’ and the other nun says, ‘must be the cobbles.’”
She cringes horribly, laughing in a much more frenzied way than I’ve ever heard, refusing to look at me. Damn it, I wish I didn’t have to go back to the gallery. I could spend all afternoon making her squirm with dirty jokes… or other methods…
Finally, she composes herself enough to rally with another joke, although she’s still stubbornly looking anywhere but at me. “What’s the difference between a woman and a computer?”
“Hm, you got me.”
“Computers don’t laugh at three and a half inch floppies.”
“Ohhh, brutal! Hey, did I ever tell you that I used to date an English teacher?”
“No, why’d you break up?”
“She dumped me for improper use of the colon...”
***
Wednesday, October 24th, 1990
Okay, okay, so Operation Amputation’s kind of a colossal failure. Something about the combination of endearingly shy lead singers, my best friend dating the bassist, and the general Stoneness of Stone seems to be making that plan a little too complicated. Time to face facts, I can’t just cut them -- cut him -- out of my life. We’re way past that.
Not like I have any fucking clue what to do with that information, of course. So I settle for wiping this one section of the mirror behind the bar obsessively, until my reflection’s spotless…frowny and washed out under the ghastly halogen lights in this place, maybe, but spotless. At least the lunch shift has been pretty quiet so far today, letting me contemplate in peace. I don’t even look up when I hear the cafe’s front doorbell ring, signaling the arrival of a big group.
“What do you think you’re gonna find through the looking glass?” Eddie’s voice wafts over my shoulder, tinged with laughter, and even though I’m surprised by the ambush -- he’s flanked by Jeff, Chris, and Stone -- I have to laugh along with him.
“Hopefully no Jabberwocks.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“M’lady, a round of beers, if you’d be so kind?” Chris asks with a bow and a flourish, and Jeff bats his eyelashes. Eddie watches the two of them and laughs, but Stone’s quietly focused on me. His gaze makes me shaky all over again as my mind floods with sensory memories from yesterday. His green eyes, which were infinitely more vivid in the sunlight. The rhythm of his silent laughter shaking me as I leaned into his shoulder. The slight cedar smell of his sweatshirt. The way I imagined his lips feeling on mine, if we’d only leaned in a little closer. God, this is so much worse than I thought. I drop my washcloth and walk around the counter to say hi, hoping the rest of these idiots can distract me.
“How come you didn’t come out with us, Cora?” Jeff asks. “Eddie says you’re a big Jordan fan, you woulda loved it, he had a great game.”
“Bulls were victorious,” Eddie beams.
“Uhm, I just have a ton of work to do right now, you know, Patch and Alex are both leaving soon, and anyway I didn’t feel right going out on a school night,” I lie, trying not to look at the real reason for my absence, who is still watching me closely and who speaks up in his usual sardonic tone.
“Oh yes, there’s our good little Catholic girl,” Stone smirks.
Chris's eyes light up in that way that looks wholesome on most people’s faces but in his case always looks vaguely satanic. “Smokey Bear, I didn't know you were Catholic!”
“Recovering,” I fire back.
“Me too! I shoulda known, usually we can smell our own. Hey, you know what's even sexier than Catholic guilt?”
I shake my head, wary of where he’s going with this, and of the intensifying gleam in his eyes. He suddenly swirls an arm around me and dips me so low I worry my head’s going to hit the floor, but he’s got a tight hold on me.
“Absolutely nothing,” he sighs seductively in my ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. As he sets me back on my feet, the guys dissolve in laughter and chatter again, but Stone only gives me a tiny little smile. Even with Chris clowning around and monopolizing the whole cafe’s attention, it feels like there’s no one else in the room when Stone looks at me like that. I used to wish he wouldn’t do that. Now I don’t know what to wish.
The guys hang out at the bar for a while and finish their beers before saying goodbye, and I’ve just gotten back to my cleaning when I hear the bell ding a second time. When I turn around, my mind’s preoccupation is standing at the bar right in front of me, by himself.
“Uh, dropped my keys, had to run back,” Stone gives another little smile, waving his key ring as evidence and stowing it in his pocket. “Hey, you said Patch and Alex are both leaving? What’s going on?”
He really does listen, doesn’t he? “Oh, uh, Patch is heading out on a Greyhound on Friday morning, he’s gonna go visit a friend from high school who moved to Portland.”
“And Alex?”
“Work conference thing all next week, he leaves on Sunday.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. So forgive my antisocial behavior, I feel like I should probably spend time with them the next couple of days before I end up in an empty apartment for a whole week.”
“Sure, yeah. Just sucks, because I’m leaving Friday too.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“New York. With Jeff. We’re gonna meet with the record label folks and see if they’ll let us out of our old deal before we try to move ahead with this new stuff.”
“When are you leaving?”
“We fly out Friday some time, back Tuesday.”
I thought I’d feel relief at the idea of him traveling a few thousand miles away while I try to figure out what I’ve been feeling for him the past 48 hours, but somehow, relief’s not the word. What the hell, Stone, I’ve finally figured out that I can’t dodge you anymore, that I don’t even want to, and now you’re leaving town? No fair.
He seems to read my mind. In a soft, vulnerable voice I’ve never heard before, only slightly above a whisper, he asks very simply, “can I call you?”
His eyes widen with hope while he waits for my answer. A nod’s all I can manage, and only after he shoots me one more smile and ducks back out onto the street after the rest of the guys do I notice that I’ve been holding my breath.
#did you guess right?#chapter 15#behind the sun#fanfiction#fanfic#stone gossard#jeff ament#eddie vedder#chris cornell#pearl jam#soundgarden
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connect the dots [sirius black]
summary: it’s YOUR chair. regardless of the fact that you found him sleeping there, for merlin’s sake, it’s yours. neither he, nor james seems to understand that. remus is an accidental wingman, lily is there to help, and peter just wants everybody to be friends.
word count: ~2200
a/n: (thats pretty fuckin ironic peter pettigrew u stupid swine) ANYWAY KIDS WHATS UP I LOVE ALL THE MARAUDERS EQUALLY???? but i have an especially soft spot for sirius and remus and james.... hmm.... (especially ben barnes as sirius and andrew garfield as remus but shhh) anyway ik i have a shit ton of requests to do but here i am, master procrastinator, back with more procrastination works! i had an impulse okay. y’all should be thanking me for this insight on snogging sirius black bc i know i’m thanking myself tonight
The seat by fire in the Gryffindor common room has always been yours. You’ve never sat anywhere else - you like that seat most of all. It’s nearest the bookshelf, the fire, and it’s the comfiest chair in the entire common room.
And it’s occupied.
You stand before it, scowling, arms crossed. Sirius Black is… sleeping in your chair, a blanket draped haphazardly across his body. He’s even snoring a little.
(It’s very soft, but he is still snoring regardless. You wish there was some way to capture this and hold the memory over his head. Sirius Black, snoring?! How dreadful!)
Somebody clears their throat behind you. You turn around. James Potter stands with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, the rest of Sirius Black’s little… friend group. James is smirking, hands stuffed into his pockets. Remus is smiling behind his hand, and Peter is just outright beaming, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“What are you looking for?” Grins James. He nods to the sleeping boy. “Isn’t he adorable? I love the face he makes while he’s sleeping, don’t you?”
You don’t say anything. You maintain eye contact with James for another half minute. In that half a minute, he doesn’t look away, doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t even blink. Remus has to wave a hand in front of your faces before you break the contact.
“Sorry, I was just thinking of ways to get my chair back,” you jab a finger at their friend, “from this monstrous parasite. Sneaking in the middle of night, falling asleep-”
“He didn’t mean to,” Remus sighs, moving forward towards his friend. “He was trying to study with me-”
“Moony, let him sleep,” James chuckles. He glances at you again. “He’s just so tired. Hasn’t slept in weeks. Terrible nightmares, that one.”
You falter, but give in a second later, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine. I will let him sleep. But,” you point to each of them, including Sirius, “if he is not awake by the time I get back from the library, I will have his head. That threat goes for anyone who gets in my way.” With that, you storm away from them, huffing.
Peter calls after you, “Well… it is a common room chair, right?”
You ignore him and push open the Fat Lady’s portrait.
There’s a certain appeal to the boys, you guess, turning the page of your book. You aren’t reading the book; on the contrary, you’re watching their group from across the common room. When you returned, you found your chair empty. Sirius and his friends were nowhere to be found. You settled in, grabbing a random book off the shelf and cracking it open. Now, after a couple hours of peaceful silence, they’re back.
The appeal is small. James and Sirius are both similar, in the fact that they’re both insufferable. When you see James doing something annoying, the latter is usually by his side. Remus is sweet. You’ve spoken with him by himself more than once. You don’t mind Remus, especially if he’s away from the heathens he calls friends. You don’t really talk to Peter much; he’s… not shy, really, just… uninterested in you. You don’t care. The only person you’d want to talk to is Remus, anyway.
Too bad they’re all heading in your direction. James is grinning, Sirius smirking in a kind of way that, on a normal day, leaves every girl in his path shaking and yearning for more. He’s quite the ladies’ man, if you recall correctly. All your friends find him mouth-watering.
You close the book at their arrival. “Yes?” You say, frowning. Sirius steps forward, running a hand through his hair.
“So James was telling me how you were watching me sleep here earlier.”
You flush. “That’s a - James Potter. That is a lie. I was not watching you sleep, for Merlin’s sake-”
“I don’t know, that’s what I caught you doing, I think,” James laughs, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “I walked out and here she is, standing in front of you, just watching. Right, Peter, Remus?”
“Right,” Peter says. You look at Remus. He meets your gaze and, with an apologetic smile, nods.
Sirius shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t think you were the type to be so forward. If you fancy me, all you have to do is let me know.”
You turn even darker. “I do not fancy you! I was trying to decide whether or not to wake you up!”
He is rather attractive, you guess. He has nice hair, and he’s tall. Not as tall as James, but James is gangly, all long limbs. He isn’t scrawny, like Remus is a little bit. Nor is he shorter and stouter, like Peter. He has a rather nice body.
“I think she’s checking you out, mate, look-” James stage-whispers in Sirius’ ear. Sirius laughs and turns around, muttering something low to his friend. You can’t make it out. Instead, you get up, off the chair.
“I am l-leaving,” you scowl, setting the book down. “Take the stupid, bloody chair. It smells like you, anyway. You tainted it,” you knock into Sirius as you walk by, dropping your head so you stare at the floor.
James calls behind you, “Where are you going?”
“We’re just giving you a hard time, we’re just teasing-” Sirius groans. “Come back!”
You choose not to, instead going up the stairs and entering the girls’ dormitory, where you’re sure they cannot follow.
When you come out again, the only person in the common room is Remus. He is sitting at a table, writing what you can only assume is Slughorn’s potions essay due the following week. You look at him, wary. He looks up and looks at you, too.
“Are you going to make fun of me?” You ask.
Remus laughs, “Are you going to give me a reason to?”
“...No. I suppose not,” you sit in your chair, tucking your legs underneath your body. “What are you doing?”
Remus holds up his parchment, sighing. “Slughorn’s essay.”
“Thought so. It’s rough. Took me a full three hours to understand the concept,” you lean back and stretch, yawning as you do so.
“You understand it? I cannot get a single grasp on what we are supposed to write about,” he frowns. Then Remus glances above you, tilting his head up. You twist your body to look. Sirius Black himself is descending the staircase, cracking his knuckles. You chew on your lip, trying to decide whether to leave or stay. As soon as he sees you, he does a double take and grins.
“Hey, Moony. Hey, you,” he winks, turning to his friend. “D’you reckon you can give me a hand with the essay, mate? I don’t get what we’re supposed to write.”
Remus smiles. He nods to you. “I don’t, either. But she does.”
Your eyes widen. Not Remus! No, you trusted him! What a good thing that turned out to be.
Remus seems to sense your irritation and signals screaming ‘TRAITOR!’. He rises from his seat, motioning to it. “I have something to attend to. Will you help Padfoot with his essay? Please?”
Sirius looks at you and sends the same puppy-dog look Remus is giving. They’re both extraordinarily good, you admit begrudgingly. You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I don’t know why I am about to do this, but sure, fine.”
“Thank you!”
“I might not fail Slughorn’s class!” Sirius whoops, high-fiving Remus. While the latter gathers up his supplies, you get up and head for the stairs. “Wait, where are you going?”
“To get my notes so I don’t mess this up,” you explain, ascending the staircase. You make for your dorm room and grab your notes from your bag. When you get back to the common room, Remus is gone and Sirius is sitting in your chair. You arch a brow. “Up.”
He shoots you an innocent expression. “What? Why?”
“I’m helping you with your essay, Sirius, at least let me sit-”
“But it’s so comfortable here,” he smirks. “If you really want to, you could always sit on my lap.”
“I want a comfortable seat, Black,” you deadpan.
Sirius shrugs. “Your choice. My lap, or you can pull up a chair.”
Alright. If he isn’t going to get up, you might as well take him up on the offer. You know he isn’t expecting you to say yes. Therefore, the best plan of action is to agree and make him uncomfortable.
“Okay. I’ll sit on your lap.”
The smirk fades away for a second. He stammers out a, “Wh-what?”
“Hey, you offered. I don’t want to pull up a chair.”
The same sly look is back after that. He nods, stretching out. “Right, right. A lady like you deserves the best seat in the house, after all.”
If blushing could be prevented, you would’ve seemed totally cool and at ease. Contrarily, blushing is inevitable. So, with reddened cheeks, you climbed onto his lap, your body fitting in between his… rather well, actually. You end up not actually sitting on his lap, but in between his legs. You’re small enough to where he can rest his chin on the top of your head. Therefore, of course, he does.
“Okay…” you gather your notes together and take a deep breath, attempting to un-fluster yourself.
Sirius chuckles. You feel his body move behind you, shifting to help you fit better. “Nervous?” He moves so his mouth is right next to your ears. “There’s no need to be nervous. You’re just showing me… potions notes.”
“I hate you,” you whisper, face hot.
“What was that?”
“I said I hate you-”
“Do you?” Sirius moves his mouth closer to your ear. His breath hitting your skin causes bumps to raise along your arms, which you try to remove by pulling your long sleeves over your hands. “Do you hate me? I don’t hate you.”
“Sirius-”
“In fact, I rather like you. I think you’re very attractive.”
“Sirius,” you breathe, tilting your neck to the side. His hands move from his sides to your arms, sliding along the length of them to land on your shoulders. “What are you doing? I’m supposed to be showing you these notes-”
He chuckles again. His lips are so close to your body you shiver involuntarily. “If you actually wanted to study, would we be in this position?”
“I actually sat here to prove a point, but-” you’re interrupted by the feeling of his lips on your neck. You arch your back and tilt your neck more, letting out a sharp exhale while doing so. “Merlin-”
“That’s not my name, babe.”
You glare, rolling your eyes. “You are completely insufferable.”
He only hums, kissing your neck again. One hand goes to tangle in your hair, the other wraps around your stomach to push your back into his hard chest. You sigh. What harm will come to this? Sure, he’s annoying and arrogant and completely terrible, but he’s also extremely attractive. And if he claims to like you, then you can’t really complain about this. It feels good. And the common room is empty aside from you two, so why the hell not?
You pull away, twisting your body so you’re facing him. He pushes his legs together, forcing you to straddle his body. You put one knee on either side of him and lower yourself onto his lap, for real this time. Sirius is grinning back at you, an arm behind his head.
“You’re hot,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m hot? You’re the attractive one.”
“I know that much. Reckoned you should know, too,” he bites his lip and lowers his gaze to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me, or am I going to have to come to you?”
In answer to his question, you lean forward and press your mouths together. His touch immediately travels to your ass, cupping it to propel you forward. You breathe out as one hand explores the length of your body. Your fingers tangle in his long hair, lips moving against his slightly chapped ones. To your surprise, he doesn’t add tongue for a good few minutes. When he does, it’s only slightly, like he’s waiting for your approval.
Snorting, you give it, tangling it with his. Sirius lets out a small pleasing sound, deepening the kiss and leaning forward so much your back arches more than it’s probably supposed to.
If you’re being honest, you’ve snogged enough to know how to breathe during the kiss so you don’t have to break away. He, apparently, has as well; you don’t have to break away until you hear somebody clear their throat behind you.
You pull away and look over your shoulder. James is standing with his girlfriend, Lily, Remus, and Peter.
“I didn’t expect you to get this far,” Remus laughs, shaking his head.
James chuckles, wrapping an arm around Lily’s waist. “Having fun?”
Sirius grabs a pillow off the ground and chucks it at the crowd. “Get out of here, mate! I’m busy!”
You roll your eyes and turn back to Sirius. You whisper, “If we keep kissing, they’ll leave eventually.”
“I like that idea,” he replies just as soft, closing the gap between you two. Behind you, you hear a series of groans and an exaggerated, ‘eurgh!’
“Let’s leave them alone,” Lily giggles, followed by footsteps. You continue kissing until you hear the portrait swing shut. Then you break away and rest your forehead against his.
“Should we start on the potions assignment?” You ask.
Sirius shakes his head. “Nah, we still have another week. Here, let’s keep doing this…” And with that, he tangles a hand in your hair and continues sucking on your lip.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black fanfic#sirius black one shot#harry potter fanfic#sirius black imagine#my writing#connect the dots#liquidmusing#writing#god i love sirius#im currently blasting imagine dragons at 3 am so im gonna#blast off#cya kids#also i hope this isn't too similar to put your guns away#pls tell me its not oh no#mine
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The Frying Pan Colon D, A Gay Pirate Story
Chapter 1
Black combat boots scraped the pavement, the wind howling by the harbor. Ray’s hands remained in their pockets as they made their way past all the ships and docks, humming a song of the sea to themselves. They passed many vessels, but none were the object of destination. No, they were walking to the very end, where there would be a sand-less, rocky beach. One can’t exactly dock a pirate ship in a public harbor.
A loud horn blare ripped through the seaside, assuring the pirate that their ride had arrived before they had even reached the rocks. Their grin grew wider and they sped up, now at a running pace. When they reached the rocks, they saw the silhouette of a young man leaned against the other side of the rocks, facing away from them, playing soft horn music. Beaming, Ray turned around and leaned against the rocks, their backs facing each other while they waited for the end of the song. Soft melodies filled the air as the man continued to ignore the presence of another. When the song reached its conclusion, they sat in silence for a bit longer, eyes closed and faces calm, till he let out a deep breath of content. Ray peeked open an eye but still didn’t turn around.
“Learned a new song while you were gone.” He said proudly. Shaking with excitement now, Ray turned around and catapulted themselves over the rocks to land next to their friend, and proceeded to tackle him in a bear hug.
“LUNO! I MISSED YOU!” Ray screamed, squeezing the unsuspecting friend tightly. He hugged back, with just as much fervor, and screamed “I MISSED YOU TOO!” Ray giggled and let go. “I miiisssseed youuuu,” they repeated, but more drawn out, patting his head of fluffy indigo hair.
“You’ve only been here a week, were you that bored?” He asked, leaning back against the rocks. Ray sighed, leaning back next to him, in matching positions: right leg kicked over the other and arms crossed.
“I wish, but that reminds me, we’re staying in town a bit longer,” they huffed, blowing the hair out of their face.
“What for?”
“Got a pretty big job we need to talk about at the ship.”
“What kinda big we talking about?” He inquired, a single eyebrow arched. Ray usually took care of small jobs every now and then, ranging from helping a friend move into their new apartment to dismantling a corporation. They had a reputation of helping those they wanted to, with little regard for the law.
“Oh you know, kidnapping royalty big. Not huge.”
“Oh damn, what did you get us into?”
“I’m not completely sure myself, we’re meeting again tomorrow. I just know I’ll need the crew for this one.”
Luno sighed, before continuing. “Guess we had better head back then.” He stepped away from the rocks a good distance after throwing the horn to Ray, who barely caught it and fumbled a bit, before giving a thumbs up with a big, goofy smile.
The wind picked up, throwing pebbles and small chunks of rock around, kicking dust up. Ray coughed a bit, hacking up particles of rock. Gross. Once the dust settled, and they had finished hacking up a lung, a large, dark blue dragon with golden accents across his body stood where the man previously had. He trotted back over, and motioned his head, signaling for them to get on his back.
“I think I just died from rock up my nose,” Ray grumbled while climbing up on top of him. The dragon jostled the leg they were climbing up, forcing them to grab on tighter. “I was just messing with you, meanie.”
Once the pirate was atop their dragon friend, they patted his neck and yelled into the wind as they took off. Luno was a normal-sized dragon, but still dwarfed measly humans like Ray, a singular claw was the size of their whole face, and his wingspan was wider than a house.
The pair flew over the water, nothing but another world of blue beneath them. When Ray had been younger, the idea of flying had seemed mystically impossible, a simple dream. Then again, they hadn’t imagined being a pirate who lived on the seas, but life takes funny turns sometimes.
In the distance, a large ship with bright sails of varying colors was on the water, bright with light, magical or just from candles, and loud. The ship was alive, and Ray could feel it from so far away. Luno sensed their excitement at coming back to the sea and snorted.
“Oh hush you, I’ve missed you guys,” Ray laughed, nudging him with their boot. When they arrived at The Frying Pan :D, as was written on the side, Luno hovered over for a sec while Ray jumped down, attempting to make a sick landing, but unfortunately, they happened to be very uncoordinated and fell in an empty barrel.
Music on the ship ceased and the SHING of swords being drawn could be heard. Ray heard a familiar beat of footsteps approach, which halted when the person was right next to the only thing that could truly contain Ray. There was a pause, but Ray gave in and looked upwards, and saw a bright cyan head of hair glaring down at them before they recognized the barrel person’s face.
“Ray!” the demi-girl cheered, which spurred on the cheering of the rest of the crew. Ray lifted their arms, their signature huge grin etched on their face and made grabby hands at the first mate. They sighed and reached down towards Ray and pulled them out of the offending barrel, while another person fell from the sky on his behind. “Oh, there you are Luno.”
“Yeah yeah I’m fine thanks for asking.” he sighed dramatically. Meanwhile, another strode through, barreling towards the purple-haired menace.
“Captain! We missed you!” Celine squealed, bouncing a bit, and earned a “NO WE DIDN’T” followed by laughter from some of the crew.
“For the love of hell please don’t call me that, if you won’t say my name at least say Sting or something.”
“You’ve got it Captain!”
“You know what maybe I didn’t miss y’all-“
“Ahem!” Luno coughed, demanding Ray’s attention. They turned to him, questioningly. “The job?” He elaborated, exacerbated.
“Oh yeah!” Ray exclaimed, remembering the topic of importance. With a loud scream, the crew’s attention was caught. “So, we’ve got a job.” An uproar went about the crew. Usually Ray did jobs by themself, it was only the super big ones that demanded the crew’s help. “Ah cheeses, SHUT UP YOU FART BAGS!”
They shut up.
“Let me rephrase that. We might have a job. It’s extremely risky, and dangerous, and almost certainly very, very fun.”
“Who in their right mind came to you for that?” The first mate jeered, earning a playful whack across the head.
“Shut up Ryn, some rich tailor boy. Says he wants us to kidnap the princess.” Ray told, rather nonchalantly. The crew ceased chatter.
“You didn’t say yes did you?” Ryn demanded, serious now. Ray shifted uncomfortably.
“Well no-“
“Because even you understand that’s stupid right?”
“Well hey now-“
“Ray!”
“Look I didn’t say yes! I said I’d come here and talk it over with you guys!” Ray defended, nervously sweating. They didn’t exactly want to face the wrath of Ryn at the moment.
“There is a line! There is a line between doing what’s right, and doing what’s stupid!”
“You haven’t even heard the reason!” The captain protested. Sure they were in charge, but they were nothing without the support of all the crew. It needed to be unanimous.
“What’s the reason then?!” Ryn inquired, crossing her arms.
“Love! It’s an epic romance, he’ll have to tell me again tomorrow because I truly don’t remember all the details...” Ray explained, a mischievous glint in their eyes as they trailed off, looking at both Ryn and Luno. The look that said, ‘I have more to say but not yet.’ Sighing, Ryn nodded and dropped it for now. “Anyways! My first night back in a week, tell me everything!” They yelled to the crew, walking amongst them.
“How do you think this one will turn out?” Luno asked Ryn, the pair still at the front of the ship, watching their eccentric friend catch-up.
“Horribly.”
———————————
“Tell me you have a plan and it's going to be fabulously perfect, or I’ll just die.”
“Oh Ryn you think so little of me,” Ray laughed, following Luno and Ryn into their chamber. The Captain’s Chamber on The Frying Pan :D was nothing elaborate, simply a few chests here and there, a bed, and a desk that had papers, pens, and markers strewn all across it. That’s what the three were currently standing around. “I have a plan, but I wouldn’t say it's fabulously prefect.”
“Well then oh what are we to do, to solve this lack of fabulousness?” Luno sighed dramatically.
“Well our guy, Nate, wants his princess to not marry this nobody she’s about to marry. He wants us to kidnap her, sail around a bit, and then bring her to him. Now I think this is a pretty stupid plan, but also I think kidnaping a princess would be pretty fuckin fun,” Ray laughed, falling into a chair that was behind them at the desk.
“Oh yeah lets go kidnap a princess and die, that sounds like so much fun,” Ryn replied dryly, unimpressed.
“I agree with your words, but you make it seem like you don’t agree,” Ray was exaggeratedly frowning, trying to make puppy dog eyes but instead ended up looking more like a depressed donkey.
“You have a strange idea of fun.”
“Luno, we’re pirates, what else are we supposed to do? Go hug some old ladies?”
“The whole reason you left for a week was because you wanted to comfort a friend who had a rough break up. Very pirate-y.”
“Irrelevant!”
“Why do you even want to kidnap her?” Ryn interrupted, continuing the conversation.
“Well, Nate gave me some pretty weird vibes. Not a fan of his whole, “she’s mine and only mine” deal. So after going to talk with him tomorrow, I’m going to judge his character a little harsher, see what I think, and then we move on from there. If he’s a total weirdo, we kidnap the princess, and betray him, and ask her about how she feels about this whole marriage situation. If she wants to stay she can stay. If he’s not a weirdo we still kidnap her, ask her if their love is requited, and then we continue from there.”
“That’s your whole plan? Why do you want to kidnap her so bad anyways? Ransom money?” Luno asked, genuinely curious this time. Ryn’s face perked up at that.
“I like the way you think, but I just think it’d be fun.”
“Alright, I’m in, but only on the possible promise of ransom money.” Ryn negotiated, giving in.
“What do you want the ransom money for anyways?” Luno asked, drumming some pencils against the desk. Ray smiled, grabbing some pencils and happily drumming along.
“Wanna get more comics for the island.”
The island was referred to as Rainbow Rule. Yeah, the people there weren’t great with names, they knew that. It was where the pirates of The Frying Pan :D would most often dock for longer periods of time. It was hidden from the normal eye through a fog controlled by the magical inhabitants of the island, who mostly consisted of merpeople and magically inclined humans, with the occasional fairy or dragon. It wasn’t exactly wealthy, so it’s where a lot of the crew’s treasure went, and they appreciated things from the mainland.
“Oh yeah, Luno,” Ray got up and bowed down and spoke in a mock-fancy accent, “would you be so kind as to accompany me tomorrow? I might need a second opinion. Ryn, you’ll be in charge of the ship again.”
“Yeah yeah Lord Fancy Pants,” Luno sighed at Ray’s oddness, while Ryn gave a half-assed salute before turning on their heel and leaving the cabin. The remaining two smiled at the action, before turning to each other.
“You’re gonna get us into a big mess huh?”
“Possibly...”
_______________
0. Prologue
1. Chapter 1
An: WOO HOOOOO I GOT THE FIRST REAL CHAPTER OUT! Anyways this took me a lot longer then i thought it would considering the prologue was written in literally one night- ANYWAYS
So i’ve got two, three-ish of our crew mates in the story! So just for reference,
Luno: He/they
Ryn: She/ They
Ray: They/Them
Celene: She/her
anyways i thought that was important. I really hope you guys enjoyed my awful writing lol
also don’t worry this isn’t gonna be a “poor defenseless princess story”
#transgender#lgbtq#gay pirates#trans pirates for the win#fantasy#dragons#pirates#pirate ship#lgbtq pirates#fiction#teen written stories#this took me a week oof#pirate story#story#chapter one#fairytale#we’re getting to the plot guys#i know this is a very cliche story#she’s not gonna be a defenseless princess#she’s gonna be a strong woman#strong female characters#men suck#like bro why you tryin to keep her#creepy#nate makes me uncomfy#i’m not gonna enjoy writing him#anyways#hope you enjoy#y’all i don’t know the princesses name#what’s her name going to be
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