#I again want to give her a shout-out for encouraging me to go all in on this AU— it wouldn't be where it is now without her 💛

[1d1195]

Under Construction III

Read Under Construction here | ~7.8k

From Me: this is a mess but I think it's cute

Warning: like two seconds of blood and then fluff and angsty shit

Summary: “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It wasn’t lunch time, so Harry wasn’t standing by the fence like a certified creep. “Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted. He instinctively turned toward the field and found the gaggle of cuties lined up at the edge of the field. How he didn’t hear them approach was beyond him.

They were led by none other than the cutest woman of all. Today she wore a long green jacket. Black pants peeked out from it. Her coat had a tie fabric cinching her waist. Harry never paid much attention to what his date wore, but everything on her made her look three times as adorable if it were even possible.

He gave a wave, heading over to the group. “Hey everyone,” he greeted. “Early recess?” He asked.

They all glanced at her making sure it was okay to answer. “Go ahead, you know what to say,” she encouraged.

Harry remembered Amara (the little girl who bent her neck back at an incredible angle to chat with him last week) as she stepped forward to look up at him once more. “Miss Bee said our sandwich party is going to be on Halloween. So you can dress up as your dream job.”

He smirked and glanced at her. “What if this is m’dream job?” Because there wasn’t a world in which it wasn’t. Not if fate and destiny put him precisely at her side just because he got this job. It was the best job in the world.

They looked at her again. “That’s okay,” she affirmed with a laugh.

“Sometimes Miss Bee has silly rules, so we have to check.”

“I beg your pardon, they’re not silly!” She frowned with mock annoyance.

“Mr. Niall can come too!” Another one said excitedly.

“We’ve been really good in math too, so we get to ask you question too!” Kai bounced with energy that seemed quite misplaced in asking two construction workers about their jobs.

“Janie, do you want to give Mr. Harry what you brought?”

Harry watched as another little girl stepped forward. She held two folded pieces of construction paper, and she handed them up and toward Harry at the fence. “It’s made out of construction paper. Like your job,” she said explained as if Harry hadn’t a clue what it was. “One’s for Mr. Niall too.”

“Miss Bee wrote the cover part and then we all got to make a page each.”

Harry was enthralled with the cover. It had her extremely beautiful handwriting. Though he was pretty sure every little thing she did was beautiful. There were 3-D stickers of Halloween items placed sporadically across the page but still maintained a fun holiday aesthetic.

Please join us for our Halloween Sand-Witch party. Wednesday, October 31st at 11:45 AM. Please RSVP to Miss Bee and let her know if you have any allergies.

He flipped quickly seeing a variety of hand-drawn pictures. The drawings could only be himself and Niall munching on sandwiches the following week at their party. Along with a variety of varying six-year-old signatures, and so forth.

Harry smiled, his eye catching hers. This was almost as good as asking her on a date and hearing her say yes. A handwritten invitation was a dream come true. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest that the little party was going to be spent with twenty kindergarteners and his best friend either. Because she was going to be there dressed as something adorable, he was sure, and he couldn’t wait.

“We’d love t’attend,” he told them. She smiled shyly as the little ones cheered.

“Alright, Kindergarten... it’s time we head back now that the guys are invited,” she waved to Harry. “Say see you later to Mr. Harry.”

“See you later alligator!” Someone shouted, causing the rest to giggle uncontrollably.

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her group of funny children and headed back toward the school building peering back to catch Harry’s eye again.

*

On Friday, she was preparing for the following week as always. It had been raining hard all day long, so Under Construction wasn’t next door. Moreover, there was no outdoor recess so there was no way she would have seen him anyway. It made her miss Harry.

It seemed a little ridiculous that she would fall so quickly for an almost total stranger. Especially when she was so cautious about falling for anyone after Evan.

She met Evan while out with friends for a birthday dinner. He said he was drawn to her, a moth to a flame, the whole bit. He told her she was pretty, lovely, sweet, etc. Evan was handsome, talented, and funny. At first, he was excessively kind. Flowers every week, asked her to move in only three months in, told her he couldn’t live without her.

He worked for a financial company. One that made him a lot of money so he could afford a big house—bigger than two people without kids conceivably needed. But it was for their future. Evan’s job required many business meetings and parties that left her feeling completely drained socially and financially. Every party required a new fancy outfit that she didn’t want to pay for. He made her go to golfing fundraisers (even though she hated golf) and helped him with parties at his place for clients and partners alike.

All while she tried to get her bearings in her first two years of teaching.

Evan never attended a school event. He didn’t help her move her furniture in her classroom. He didn’t understand why she would go to work on days she wasn’t getting paid to set things up. He didn’t get that the magic inside a classroom happened outside of school hours, and it was well worth the time she put into it. There was no help from him putting bulletin boards together and he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead on her colorful carpet laminating on a Tuesday afternoon.

She finished her planning and clicked into another tab on her computer to look at the to-do lists that never seemed to get any shorter. She had a section for classroom improvements, stain her bookshelves, inquire about fixing the outlets, find more shelving, paint her rocking chair, and more. There was so much.

After their breakup—the one instigated by Evan because she was spending too much time at school—she moved into a tiny little house on her own. It was no more than a one-bedroom apartment. Just enough space for herself and she loved it, but it also needed so much work. There was the roof that leaked in the rain in the same spot, one of the stove burners didn’t work, one of the windows in the living room was so stiff shut she couldn’t move it. Her bedroom seemed poorly insulated and was freezing in the winter, the tile flooring in her bathroom was cracked in several places. But it was home. The cutest little place she had ever seen. The living room was filled with books, and the dining table was a spot for her tutoring sessions.

The kitchen always smelled like cookies or brownies. Things that she brought to her parent’s house on Wednesday evenings when she, her siblings, and anyone available in her family gathered for a meal together. Her sister’s fiancée begged for muffins at least once a month and she smirked at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time and there wasn’t enough energy she could muster to fix her place up. There were more pressing matters. Trying to eat well, exercise, get her master’s degree. Visiting her parents and helping her sister with her wedding. It was exhausting.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on her outside door. She put a hand on her heart, not anticipating a knock as it was downpouring. It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday. All her co-workers hightailed it out of there shortly after the buses had left. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the door seeing Harry smiling in the small window. He had a black raincoat on, the hood keeping his pretty face from getting wet.

Immediately she opened the door. “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry ‘bout m’coat,” he frowned as it dripped on the floor. “S’raining cats and dogs out there,” he shrugged out of the coat and snapped it outside, a tiny little overhang keeping it the smallest bit dry. He slung it on the back of an upturned chair on one of her tables, so it dripped below to the floor. He frowned and headed toward the bathroom for paper towels. “I’ll take care of this before we leave,” he promised placing a bunch of towels below the dripping coat.

She stared at him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He turned slightly, smiling up at her while he knelt next to his watery mess. “S’Friday, wanted t’see what y’needed help with for next week.”

She blinked. “But... you didn’t work today.”

“As a matter of fact, I did work. I had a meeting about our progress and talked to suppliers about materials and such,” he said proudly, the dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Oh... I meant... outside,” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

He chuckled quietly as she tried to back track. “S’fine, Bird. I knew what y’meant. Don’t worry ‘bout it. No, ‘course with the rain it puts us back a day or two, so I had t’be productive in other ways.”

There was something wrong with her, because that was one of the hottest sentences she had ever heard anyone say and he was merely talking about productivity.

“Um...” she swallowed. “I don’t need... you didn’t... you came all the way here?”

“S’not too far from m’place actually,” he said with a shrug. He headed toward her desk to see her little piles of what needed to be accomplished. He hoped to find something labeled Monday, or maybe something that needed to be cut or stapled together. Instead, he found her to-do list opened on her computer. “What’s this?” He asked, glancing at her screen.

“Oh... don’t look at that, they’re... they’re nothing. Just... they’re my to-do—”

“Your roof leaks?” He asked looking up at her in shock. He also looked completely hurt. Like it was unimaginable that she kept that from him. “Bird, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“Stop,” she put her hand on her chest feeling it ache with want for him. Adoration for him. Something that felt dangerously close to the feelings she had when she first started dating Evan and he brought her flowers every week. “Harry,” she said softly. “I am so appreciative of you coming down here and helping me, but you don’t have to. It’s likely I can’t reciprocate or—”

His eyes dropped to her computer again scanning the list, ignoring her and wondering what else she needed done. “Bird, you’re cold?” He asked. She felt like she was in trouble. Her throat tightening over the emotion she felt. It was a long day—but all of them were long. Her weeks felt endless. And she was cold. So lonely in that cold, damp, tiny place she lived no matter how much she loved it. “Kitten,” he whispered quietly.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Bird,” he frowned. “Y’should have said something. I can bring Niall t’look at it, we can fix it up in a minute—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Harry, I’m begging; please stop.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Y’would never let one of your students have a problem like this,” he turned from her computer, strode across the room to her, and put a hand on her hip while pulling her toward him. She looked away from him, ignored the sparks that burst from the touch on her waist. She shook her head.

“It’s not important.”

He gently touched her cheek turning her gaze back to him. His finger resting beneath her chin. “You’re not important?” He questioned. “Y’know how ridiculous y’sound, right? I’ve known you less than a month and I think y’might be the most important person I know.”

She swallowed and shrugged. “There’s more pressing matters,” she whispered. “I have this classroom to worry about and little minds to mold. My sister’s getting married, and my mom needs—”

“All that is more pressing than y’not catching a cold?”

“I-I... I’m not going to... I don’t—”

He rubbed his thumb across her lip making all of the words in her head disappear. “Bird, you’re going t’make yourself sick.”

Was this what it was supposed to feel like? In all the time she dated Evan, there wasn’t much worry about her. It was usually a worry about what she wasn’t doing or couldn’t do because she was busy. There was never a worry about stretching herself too thin or making her do more because he wanted her to be part of his stuff.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head immediately, moving his hand from her face in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “Bird, my love,” his voice was so soft it made her feel warm again. “Hey,” he cooed, “C’mere,” he tucked her to his chest, kissed the top of her head like it was an everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t the first time his lips touched her. “It’s okay,” he hummed. God, he was so warm. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was this how she was supposed to feel when someone cared about her and all the little things she neglected to speak into existence?

She sniffled, wiping at her face while Harry calmly soothed her. His hand rubbed up and down her back. The last time she remembered someone soothing her like this had to be when she was a child and her dad was trying to comfort her over a broken toy or missing her mum on a work trip.

“Sorry,” she sniveled. “I think I’m just really overwhelmed.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and pulled away from him even though it was a hundred times colder than her bedroom ever could be outside the circle of his arms. “Sometimes I just need to cry and be dramatic,” she admitted and wiped her eyes.

Harry was looking at her like she was going to have a breakdown at any moment. He wanted to wrap her back up in his arms but part of him was a afraid he might not ever let her go. “I don’t think y’being dramatic, kitten,” his voice was still very soft. Like he was worried he’d set her off somehow. “Think y’might jus’ be a little too not dramatic, actually.”

She took a deep breath. “My house is fine, really. It’s not a big leak. It’s only when it rains,” as if to make matters worse it thundered loudly outside. She winced while Harry just stared at her.

“This ex of yours, was he handy at all?” He asked and moved to the table where piles were made, and he finally found something labeled Monday. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the paper; sitting on the floor like he did on Tuesday. Like it was no big deal that he came out in the middle of a thunderstorm to help her on a day he didn’t work next door.

“No,” she shook her head. “He just hired people.”

But she left out telling him about only hiring when it was convenient for him. “Hmm.”

“I actually know a lot about fixing things up,” she admitted. “Not nearly to the degree that you do. I need a lot of YouTube videos and time I sincerely do not have to execute it, but I installed our dishwasher on my own. And I pulled up some carpet and put some flooring down in our dining room.

She swore Harry was smiling proudly at her. Like he had taught her or something. “S’very lovely, kitten. S’good t’know how t’do those kinds of things... but I wouldn’t have let y’lift a finger t’do it.” It was like he sucked all the air out of her body and for a moment she really felt frozen. Harry continued cutting paper and pretending like he hadn’t just rendered her lungs useless. “We still on for Sunday afternoon?” He asked.

She nodded. “You’re still going to come to the party on Wednesday even if it’s the worst date of your life?” She asked. “I will have a really hard time explaining it to the kids if you don’t.”

He chuckled. “M’certain it’ll be the best date of m’life, but yes. I’ll be there Wednesday,” he assured her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered and sat beside him.

Harry wasn’t dressed in his typical construction gear. Instead, he wore jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a cozy sweatshirt. He smiled at her. “Course, Bird.”

*

The thunder was loud. Practically, shaking the small frame of her house. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling unable to see anything in the dark until the lightning illuminated her room. Her phone said it was only after one in the morning. Much too early or late to do anything but try and fall back asleep.

Sighing again, she got out of bed and headed to her bathroom before making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen, her foot was met with a puddle.

Her heart pounded. “No, no, no, fuck,” she hissed and smacked the light switch on the wall. She put a hand to her mouth as the leak was now a definitive hole in the middle of her ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hurried back to the bedroom grabbing her phone and dialing Louis as quickly as she could. As she listened to it ring longer than she wanted to (but couldn’t blame Louis for not answering so early in the morning), she grabbed pots and pans out of her cabinets catching as much rain as she could.

“’Lo?” he yawned. Exhausted, clearly. It was one in the morning. The poor thing probably didn’t want to get out of bed in the pouring rain, but she didn’t know what else to do... she didn’t have a choice.

“Louis, I,” she gasped. “I need help, please!”

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. “El, baby,” he hummed off to the side of his phone. “Get your coat,” he mumbled.

“What’s happening?” She moaned.

“Shh,” he hushed. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My ceiling!”

“Ah fuck,” he grumbled. Louis immediately knew what the issue was. “I should have—”

“Louis, I don’t have time for I-Told-You-Sos. Hurry up!” She begged and watched as another chunk of her ceiling fell to the floor. It wasn’t a huge hole, but if she hadn’t gotten up it was going to cave in her ceiling for sure by morning.

“Alright, alright, we’re on the way.”

*

Harry was dreaming. The pretty kindergarten teacher was in his house, drinking tea, and relaxing. It was adorable. Her smile was so sweet. No evidence of sadness or exhaustion on her face. He wanted to die seeing her upset that afternoon. But there was only so much he could do.

But she wasn’t upset right then. His dream made her giggly, like when her students made her laugh. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, it brought out the warmth in her. It wasn’t short, of course, but she wore leggings beneath it and she looked so cozy. “Hi Miss Bee,” he chuckled approaching her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhmm... come here,” she patted the sofa beside her. “I missed you.”

It was music to his ears.

“Missed you t—”

His phone nearly sent him into an early grave waking him from the dead of sleep. He slapped his hand out and smacked it off the nightstand. “Shit,” he whispered grabbing it. It was an unknown number and normally he’d ignore it, but he had never gotten a call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God,” Eleanor sighed. “Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you. Her ceiling. It’s got a hole in it and she’s freaking out and it’s raining so bad, and we have no idea what to do, can you help us?”

He knew he should have checked it out.

“Yeah, yeah, course, jus’ send me the address.”

“I already did,” Harry put the phone on speaker and checked the message while he rifled through his drawer for clothes to wear in the rain. He felt his heart skip a beat to know she was only a five-minute drive away.

“M’five minutes away once I get m’shoes on.”

“You’ll beat us there, thank you, so, so much.”

Harry called Niall immediately. “I was sleeping,” he groaned.

“M’sending you an address. Miss Bee’s got a roof situation.”

“Shit, in this weather?”

“I’ll be there in five. Bring anything y’can think of.”

*

The rain was not letting up. The thunder and lightning only added to the shitty night she was having. She ran from her house to the small shed in the back corner of her yard to find something useful. Louis would be a few minutes, and she really didn’t want to wait a second longer than she needed to.

With a small flashlight between her teeth, she found the ladder that would be large enough to get her on her roof. She awkwardly held it as she walked back toward the house, propping it against the side.

Her raincoat wasn’t doing anything. It was going to feel downright tropical in her room when she got back inside. Everything was so terrible right then, she just wanted to cry, and she couldn’t because there wasn’t even time to have a meltdown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself entering the shed once more. She found a tarp. She hadn’t a clue how she would get it to stay down but it was something. It’s not like she had time to find a YouTube video on it either.

In addition to the tarp, she grabbed a hammer, tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then she snagged a box of nails and put them in her coat pocket before she made her way back to her leaky house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered.

She climbed the ladder, it was slippery and terrified her, but what choice did she have. She had a flashlight between her teeth and the tarp under her arm. This was a horrible idea, but it was one in the morning and nothing made more sense than this.

The thunder was so loud, and the only light came from a streetlamp just a little too far away from her house to be useful. She slowly climbed onto the roof and felt her heart hammering hard against her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and climbed further onto the roof. It was slippery, wet, and cold. Her fingers felt frozen as she moved her way up toward where the leak was. She unfolded the tarp and placed it so it would flip over toward the front of her house and the rain would slide over the hole and nothing would get under it. It was a little relieving to have a plan, but it was very short-lived.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sound of someone else shouting at her brought her practically to a stop; she dropped the flashlight and lost her footing. She grabbed at the tarp, the shingles, anything to stop her from sliding off her house and into the yard. “Shit!” She barely had time to scream while she clawed for something to get a purchase. Her roof wasn’t particularly tall (she wasn’t living in a mansion by any stretch), but she imagined a ten-foot fall in the rain would probably result in a broken bone or two. In her slide, the hammer dug into her hip, certainly it was going to leave a bruise. She was lucky the nails were in the box, or she suspected she’d have an ER trip this early morning as well as a roof to repair.

Fortunately, her hands snagged onto the gutter before she made her final descent to the ground. The metal clanging and moaning as it pulled from the house with her dead weight hanging onto it. It hurt her fingers, her left middle finger definitely felt like it was cut on some part of the metal lip she clung to. “Let go,” the voice ordered from behind her.

She gasped. Tried to turn and look at who was bossing her around in the middle of the night. “I—”

“Bird, let go of your fucking house, now.”

Her heart managed to flutter once it recognized Harry’s voice. Just his voice made her feel safe and she felt infinitely better about her situation. It was a painful realization because Harry didn’t need this. From here it was only a five to six foot drop and less likely to hurt her, but she was still exhausted, tired, and certain with her luck she’d land on a rock and break an ankle.

So, despite all instinct, she released the gutter with nothing else but hope she wouldn’t hurt herself upon her landing in her yard.

Instead, she fell into his arms. Harry caught her, cradling her briefly and absorbing the impact of her fall by bending slightly while catching her. Before she had a mere second to be in his arms and think it through, he placed her on her feet with ease.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He snapped. “Are you insane?” His anger didn’t match his gentle touch as he cupped her face. His hands then dropped to her arms and moved further south to her waist and hips as he scanned her for injury. It was still near pitch dark if it weren’t for the headlight he had on his forehead. The light scanned her like a laser as she gaped at his presence.  “Are you okay, bird?” His voice was softer this time.

“How... how did you...?” She stared at him in disbelief that he was really truly there.

“Eleanor called me,” he stated. “What were y’doing on a roof in the rain by yourself?” He asked, his voice turning harsh again. She had never heard him sound anything but kind and sweet. The anger was almost terrifying.

“I-I, my roof—”

“You scared me t’death,” he yanked her to him, her face pressing to his chest. She swore she could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, over the sound of the pouring rain and the thunder in the distance. “Jesus, bird,” he grumbled, squeezing her tight. “I should have looked at it this afternoon, m’so sorry,” he murmured. “So, so sorry,” he repeated quietly. “Niall’s almost here, we’re gonna fix it up. Jus’... go inside and stay warm, please,” he pleaded pulling away from her, keeping a hand on her face for a moment as he scanned her once more.

“But—”

“Jus’ go inside, bird. S’fine. I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked, rain water was streaming over her face as she tried to figure out what to do next. Wincing, she pulled the hammer from her waistband as it skimmed the sensitive bruise that was definitely forming as she stood there. Then she took the box of nails from her pocket. “Not sure if these are useful,” she offered quietly.

His eyes looked so sad, so displeased. She wanted to cry. “Resourceful,” he murmured.

She nodded silently. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Go inside, bird, please.”

As she turned away toward her door, Niall was suddenly there. A matching headlight to Harry’s also on his forehead. “Hey Miss Bee,” Niall smirked as if this was normal to meet up with her in her backyard at one in the morning. “Having fun?”

“Loads,” Harry deadpanned. She felt flushed as she didn’t answer Niall. He winked at her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go inside, love. Please.”

She bit the inside of her lip and headed in. She dumped the filled pots and pans into her sink, and she grabbed towels from the linen closet. Everyone and everything was going to be soaked.

“Good morning, sunshine! Fancied a bath in the kitchen, did you?” Eleanor chirped cheerfully as she entered. Like it wasn’t one in the morning, and her house wasn’t falling apart. But her smile quickly morphed into a frown at the sight of her wet friend dripping, cold, and so completely defeated in the eyes. “Aw, sweetie,” she whispered.

A lone sob escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, except she forgot about the cut on her finger. She winced at the slight pain and sting. “Goddammit!” She snapped and dropped her head to her other hand and cried.

Eleanor made her way to her, gently tugging her coat off her body. “It’s alright,” she promised. “You’re okay, babe,” she reminded her. “It’s just a little hole... Harry and Niall will take care of it,” she brushed her hand over her hair soothingly.

She sniffled. “Today was not a good day,” she whispered.

“Well, technically it’s tomorrow, and I imagine at one in the morning, it can only go up from here,” she said positively. She snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Eleanor smiled. Above them she could hear the muffled sounds of Niall and Harry working together to repair her roof in the rain. The thunder and lightning didn’t change pace. “You clean up your hand, I’ll take care of the kitchen,” she said softly. “Go change, clean up, and brush your hair. He may be in love with you, but you would kill me if he saw you with your wet, rainy bed head,” she teased.

She snorted again and even though she didn’t want to trouble Eleanor, she listened and headed to the bathroom.

*

Louis wasn’t as helpful as Niall and Harry, but he was able to hold an additional flashlight and hand items to them as needed. Once the tarp was in place (with an added piece of rubber over top of it that Niall had brought from home) Louis helped clean up their tools and materials. He brought the ladder back to her shed while their belongings went back to their cars. Once everything was cleaned up and they were confident her roof wouldn’t leak for the remainder of the night, Louis guided them inside the small house of his best friend.

“Thanks boys,” Eleanor smiled happily in the kitchen. She was by the sink drying off pots and pans that she clearly washed.

But Harry was scanning for the pretty kindergarten teacher, clearly. Eleanor glanced down the hall suspiciously and Harry followed her gaze. “You okay in there, babe? The guys are inside, now!”

“Just trying to get my band aid to stay,” she called back.

“Niall, can we get you some tea?” Louis asked while Harry moved toward the sound of her voice. He knocked quietly on the only closed door in the little hall assuming it must be her bathroom.

“Bird?”

There was a quiet sigh from inside. “Crap,” he heard her whisper. But then the door opened.

God, she was pretty. Even sad. Even a little banged up, wet, and tired, she was gorgeous, really. Harry was in awe of her.

“Can you—” she sighed heavily. The cut wasn’t just to her middle finger as she thought but across her index and ring fingers too. Harry gently pushed inside the bathroom, holding her shoulders and guiding her to on the closed toilet lid as he looked at the array of band aid wrappers that had fluttered to the floor. He pulled the head lamp off and shrugged out of his wet coat just like he had less than twelve hours ago in her classroom, he hung it on the back of the bathroom door hook where her towel usually hung.

Silently he bandaged her up, pausing only slightly when she winced in pain from the antibacterial spray he put on her cut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Y’have nothing t’apologize for,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, you were scared. I would have done the same thing. I was scared too.”

He completed the bandages on her hand. Carefully, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek as he gently tilted her gaze up to meet him. “Don’t ever do something dangerous like that again,” his voice was very quiet, but none less serious.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you, so much. Really.”

“Course, bird. Told you. M’at your service,” he reminded her. She smiled shyly, and Harry was almost certain he didn’t imagine the way she leant into his palm that cupped her very pretty face. For a moment it wasn’t one in the morning, her roof wasn’t a mess, and Harry was only there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be.

*

“You can stay here,” she said to Louis and Eleanor as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s late.”

“Already pulled the sofa out and got sheets,” Eleanor said with a yawn. She walked away from the sink and made herself comfy on the sofa. Louis chuckled and headed after her.

“Good night, everyone. Thanks for helping Miss Kindergarten.”

“You guys are welcome to stay as well, I have a couple air mattresses,” she offered to Niall and Harry.

“In the morning, she’ll make muffins,” Louis called out quietly.

Niall yawned but shook his head. “M’good to head home, Miss Bee. Thank you though. If there’s a problem again, call Harry and we’ll come over again. We’re going to fix it tomorrow when the rain lets up, yeah?”

She nodded. There was no use arguing. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Text Harry when you get home,” she said sweetly as he exited, the door closing quietly.

Harry grinned while he sipped on a cup of warm tea. That was very sweet of her wanting to know about Niall’s safety. She turned back to Harry. “I can set up an air mattress. I’d rather stay in case something happens to the tarp,” he offered.

“Jesus, just sleep in her bed, you’re both grown adults,” Eleanor groaned.

Her face turned the color of the pants he liked most on her—the ones she wore the day they met. He smiled softly, shook his head as he sipped his tea again so he wouldn’t let on how much he liked that idea.

“El, shh,” Louis whispered. “That was an inside thought. Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Harry couldn’t help but show his smile and he looked at her almost apologetically on Eleanor’s behalf. “Air mattress?”

“Babe, it’s so loud,” Eleanor whined.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered and grabbed his hand. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom. She flicked the light on and Harry inspected the little room with awe. A closet opposite the wall of three windows with gray colored curtains with an intricate lace design. Her bed resided in the middle of the wall with a fluffy green comforter that looked warm and cozy. Beside it was a nightstand, filled with books, a water cup, and her phone. There was a plush gray carpet that extended beyond her bed frame and into most of the room taking up 80% of the floor.

Her dresser looked old, reminded him of her desk and shelving in her classroom. There was a mirror propped up behind it or on it, he couldn’t be sure. Pictures surrounded the frame of it and on the surface was a beautiful, almost antique jewelry box.

None of her furniture matched. He figured it was subject to her yard sale ways as well. “I like your room,” he said.

She sighed. “A work in progress.”

He smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He frowned instantly. “Bird,” he sighed and brought his hand to the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb on her cheek again. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m just... not having a good day,” she whispered looking away from him. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for bothering you this late and my room is freezing cold, and you should just go so you don’t get sick from the rain and this icebox,” but Harry couldn’t help but notice she didn’t move from his touch.

A sad smile graced his lips and eyes. He was so handsome it made her stomach do back flips. “Jus’ lay down, bird,” he said softly.

“Harry, it’s freezing—”

“Get in the bed, love,” he was a little firmer, but no less soft in his approach. He gently nudged her forward. Poor thing must have been exhausted because she willingly let him tuck her in, rubbing her arms gently for friction and warmth.

Turning back to the doorway, he clicked the light off bathing them in darkness. Silently he stripped out of his wet clothes. “M’jus’ gonna get between the sheet and the comforter,” he assured her. “No funny business, bird. Need a proper date,” he teased.

She snorted and turned on her side away from him. Maybe her room was cold. But it was very warm beside her in bed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” he murmured toward her frame still faced away from him. He smiled at the shadow of her that he could only vaguely make out when the lightning peeped through the space in her curtains between windows. “Anything for you Miss Bird.”

*

When she woke up, she was sweating.

Harry was snuggled behind her, his arm draped across her body, the sheet the only barrier between her and him. He was still asleep, at least she was pretty sure. His breathing made it seem that way. He felt warm and good, even if she was sweating. “Mm,” he hummed and tightened his grip on her. She smiled softly to herself and let him hold her for a minute. It was perhaps too hot, too cozy, and definitely not what she should have done. But it was nice and safe. Harry made her feel incredibly safe.

After a few minutes of blissful resting, she carefully lifted his arm off her and snuck out of bed. He didn’t stir too much other than gripping her pillow and holding it close. She looked away before she climbed in beside him again. She tiptoed across the room to her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open slowly so it didn’t make noise from getting stuck on the uneven swells of old wood. She found a pair of sweatpants that she bought at least two sizes too large that would fit Harry’s frame along with a sweatshirt she got back in college from a friend’s ex-boyfriend. She left the clothes on the bed beside her sleeping partner peacefully dreaming and drooling onto her pillow.

She grinned to herself and made her way to the door, stopping at his pile of wet clothes trying her best to avoid the parts of her old floor that creaked with her weight. She quickly opened and closed her door without letting it squeak or whine—so Harry could sleep in peace.

She turned to the washer and dryer in the small closet beside her bathroom, tossing his clothes inside the dryer. Next, she headed to the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the sofa, Eleanor snuggled into his lap. He was scrolling on his phone and combing his fingers through her hair. She smiled fondly at her best friend and gave a silent wave.

“She’s awake, you can talk,” he said quietly.

“Mm, debatable,” El grumbled.

She smirked and headed outside barefoot. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night, and the sun was starting to appear. She stepped further back in the yard to get a whole picture view of her roof. Crossing her arms at her stomach she sighed. Louis joined her (wearing shoes, however) he faced the house with her and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Harry said you almost fell off the roof. You got up there yourself?”

“I knew you were on the way,” she mumbled. But her gutter looked a little misshapen from her fall. Something else that would need to be fixed in addition to her tarped roof. “I figured I’d get a head start.”

“If I found you knocked unconscious in your garden, I would have lost my mind,” Louis stated.

“It needed to be done—”

“Irrelevant,” he shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

“Harry already gave me this lecture.”

“Good.”

She sighed. “I should just sell it and rent an apartment,” she mumbled. “I don’t have the time or energy to fix it up. It’ll be a loss, but—”

“You love this place,” Louis reminded her.

“I do, but at what cost? You were right, I should have fixed the leak when I first noticed it.”

“How did that taste in your mouth? Saying I’m right?” He smirked and gave her a squeeze.

“Like vinegar.... meanie,” she grumbled.

“This is your house. You can do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, you know I’ll help you. But you don’t have to. I’m sure there’s someone that would love to help you fix it up,” he grinned. As if on cue, Harry appeared in her backyard, rubbing his eye. “Good morning, Harry, how did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” he murmured. He was wearing the outfit she selected for him, and she felt her heart skip. He followed her and Louis into the yard, the laces of his work boots untied. “No shoes?” He asked, glancing at her feet.

“I’m only going to be out here a second,” she assured him.

“She’s not really a shoe person,” Louis told him. “She’s a summer girl because of work,” he explained.

“I could see that,” he smirked and looked at her house. “Looks like the tarp held,” he put his hands into the pockets as he assessed the damage the same as her.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

“I’m going to get El a little more mobile so she can help you with the muffins,” Louis offered. “We can go for a coffee run too,” he pulled away from her with another kiss to the top of her head. “Harry, tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” he nodded.

Harry stood beside her, their arms brushing as she looked her house over. “That was stupid of me,” she said quietly. “Going up there alone in the dark.”

“Not stupid. Y’were jus’ trying t’fix it.”

She sighed. “When will Niall be here?”

“Soon as he stops t’get me more clothes,” he smirked.

“I’m sorry. This is an awful way to spend a Saturday. I can find someone—”

“Bird, jus’ let me do it,” he chuckled. “M’begging you.”

“You’re sure, it’s not a bother?”

“Course not,” he promised.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you.”

He grinned. “C’mon, let’s get you inside before y’lose a toe.”

*

The roof was repaired in a few hours. She could hear Niall and Harry laughing while she let her muffins bake. Eleanor and Louis helped her clean up a little more and eventually the pair came down from the roof. “All set, Miss Bee,” Niall grinned.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you so much, here let me—” She attempted to hand Niall money, but he put his hands up in front of him like she was trying to stab him with a knife.

“Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”

“Literally,” Louis chuckled.

“Boo...” El rolled her eyes.

She looked at Harry nervously. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, bird,” he warned.

Pouting, she put the money back in her purse and then held out the plate of muffins that had finished onto the counter. “Here,” she offered. “The blueberry white chocolate chip ones are the best.”

“Don’t be mean to my cranberry walnut,” Eleanor said protectively.

She smiled. “Chocolate chip is by far superior, my love,” Louis said knowingly, and they took their muffins to the sofa bed.

Niall snagged one of each, with an impish smile and followed her friends. Harry stood opposite her at the counter. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“You still want to see me? After this whole catastrophe of a week?”

He nodded, picking the baking cup off his muffin with a smile. “God, yeah.”

“You might be a little crazy.”

“M’definitely a little crazy ‘bout you, bird.”

“That will be seven days in a row of seeing me.”

“A perfect week, in m’opinion,” he ripped a piece of the top of the muffin off and popped it into his mouth. “Mm,” he sighed. “Blueberry is definitely m’favorite,” he smiled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked.

He grinned. “I thought y’might want t’stick to something simple. Jus’ lunch. We can walk around the park if it’s nice out,” he offered. “But s’also Sunday so m’sure y’want some time t’rest, so I won’t keep you out forever.” That sounded highly unfair. Part of her didn’t want Harry to leave and she felt so ridiculous about saying it. Or maybe it was because he was so warm in her freezing cold room. “Lunch for sure.”

“Is it a fancy place? I just want to know what I should wear.”

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “You can wear whatever you want,” he promised. “M’sure you’ll look stunning.”

Her face warmed with the compliment wondering for the millionth time why Harry would want to put her kindergarten chaos in his life. “M’with Eleanor, cranberry walnut is the winner,” Niall said around a mouthful of his breakfast treat.

“Told you!”

“Fine by me, I don’t have to share,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry chuckled, gave her a wink, and headed to join the little group in her living room. Like he wasn’t stealing her heart and soul at all.

--

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[riddlesbunny]

the albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[luveline]

I know you’re asking for Spencer fics… While I adore single dad!Spencer… How about some single mom!reader and Spencer? 💕

You and your daughter work your way into Spencer’s life one chess game at a time. fem, 1.3k

It all starts with, “Hello.” 

Spencer looks up, and he finds any word he could’ve said dead on his tongue. You smile at him oddly gentle, and he assumes he’s got something on his face your afraid to point out.

“Hi,” you say, unperturbed by his lack of response. You keep your head ducked but seem friendly enough as you lick your lips. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but I was wondering if you’d play chess with my daughter. You don’t have to say yes, but she’s really polite and she won’t cheat, and she really wants to say hi.” 

Spencer looks behind you, where your daughter stands a ways away pretending not to watch. She could only be three of your years old —if she can play chess, she’s a prodigy. She has on stripy tights and a dress, a vinyl coat open over the top, her hands wringing together. 

“Okay,” Spencer says. 

Your smile is even nicer, then. Relief and thankfulness aimed fully at him. “Thank you.” 

You meander back to your daughter and bend down to whisper instructions too quiet for Spencer to hear. Shy, your daughter shimmies forward, then walks proper steps when you encourage her with your hand behind her shoulder. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “let’s say hi.” 

The chess boards are built into the tables at the park. Spencer sits on one stone stool, and your daughter makes herself comfortable on the opposite one. You kneel beside her without worry, knees on the dirty floor. 

“Hi,” your daughter says. She has a high voice, reedy, like she needs a drink. 

You rub her arm. 

“Hello,” Spencer says. “Have you played before?” 

“Me and mom play.” 

“So you know the rules?” 

“Some,” she says. 

Spencer’s only human. He does think about the horror of being trapped opposite of a toddler for the next half an hour bumbling through the steps, but it’s not as though he has other things to do, and, really, he loves people. He’s scared of talking, that’s all. 

“We play a lot on my phone, where it tells her what moves she can and can’t do,” you say. “But it’s okay. I have practice, I can be the phone.” 

Your daughter laughs like this is the funniest thing on the planet. “You don’t look like a phone,” she says. 

“That’s nice of you, but that’s ‘cos you’ve never seen my wires.” 

She laughs again. 

“I know all the rules, too, don’t worry,” Spencer says. “Are those your pieces? Or we can play with mine?” 

“Sofie has her pieces, it’s okay, we don’t wanna lose yours.” 

You let your backpack slip down your back and unveil a chess board box with sellotaped corners. The sleeve inside is unhurt, and you put it in the middle of the table. Spencer takes initiative and grabs the purple ones. You and Sofie arrange the pink ones in a mirror. 

Sofie is surprisingly good at chess, considering her age. Sometimes Spencer ends up playing against you, your advice murmured in her ear, and every time you smile at him he feels a little nauseous.  

He lets her win, of course. The first few times, at least. Over weeks, you and Sofia occasionally see him in the park playing chess, some days in the middle of a game with someone else, other times alone. Sofie comes up to him increasingly confident to ask for the next game, and Spencer realises he’s somehow made two friends. 

“Spencer!” Sofie shouts, tumbling over the grass bank to stop on the end of the retaining wall bordering the chess tables. You’re just behind her, looking tired. 

“Sofie, hi!” 

Sofie jumps down off of the wall before either of you can stop her. “Spencer, where have you been?” She rockets toward him. He stands, worried she’ll fall flat on her face, but she continues to race toward him until she’s throwing her arms around his legs. “I missed you.” 

“Well, I missed you too,” he says, surprised. He gives her back a tentative pat. “I’ve been learning new techniques.” 

“But where did you go?” she asks. 

“I went to Alaska. It was super cold.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you greet, flushed as you plop down on the stone seat opposite him. 

Believe it or not (easily believable), Spencer didn’t ask you your name the first time you met. Or the second. On the third occasion you met, you actually apologised with too much sincerity and said, “I’m so sorry, I never asked what your name was. I can’t believe it. I’m Y/N.” 

So now you’re introduced, and Spencer has a raging crush on you. 

Spencer grins as Sofie sits on his seat, shuffling over so they can sit together. “What, you’re on my team today?” he asks her excitedly. 

“Yes!” She pats the chess board. “Mom, my pieces.” 

“It’s okay, we can use mine.” Spencer’s are already out on the table. He’d been hoping to see you both. 

“I won’t lose them,” Sofie promises. 

“I might. Where have you been, Spencer? Sof made us come here four times last week, we had to play chess with Melinda.” 

“I was working,” he says. “We’re always going somewhere far away, I didn’t realise we’d be there for so long.” 

“‘Cos he’s a special agent,” you whisper to Sofie. 

She puts a finger over her lips, “Mom, don’t so loud!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” You nudge a King back onto his square. “Did I blow your cover?” you ask, your voice a rolling murmur.

Spencer holds Sofie’s back reactively as she wiggles on the seat. He has an answer. He should play along —he’s been reading up on how to flirt like he’s not a lonely weirdo and that’s with confidence and running jokes, but the way you’re looking at him stops him in his tracks. 

No one ever mentions the panic of a shared smile. 

“What happens if people find out?” Sofie asks worriedly. 

“Nothing happens, Sofie, I’m the boring kind of special agent where nothing I do is a secret.” He winces at her crestfallen expression. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can have a secret mission together? Me, you, and mom?” 

“Really?” you ask, surprised. 

Spencer nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course.” 

“Like… dinner?” 

Spencer bites the tip of his tongue, to an immediate sting. It’s not the first time in his life a conversation he’s in has occurred without him: you’re shared smile was you flirting first. His reciprocation, while not intended, has served as flirtation. 

He didn’t mean to do it, but he doesn’t care, he won’t mess it up, “If you want to?” He clears his throat, his voice returning to a more acceptable tenor. “We could go for dinner… tonight.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Not tonight. Not… unless you want to?” 

“We didn’t have dinner yet,” Sofie says helpfully. 

Your gaze falls to the chess board. “I don’t think I’m dressed for dinner. I had such a long shift.” You’re shrugging, minimising yourself. 

Spencer moves his and Sofie’s first pawn. “You always look beautiful.” 

He cannot look at you after he says it, but he doesn’t need to. 

“Mom, you're doing that smile like when Mr. Mailman brings our letters.” 

“Thank, Sofie,” you say. 

Spencer sneaks a glance at your smile. It’s decidedly shy, and if he were to touch your cheek, he guesses he’d find your skin warming. “What does he do when he brings the letters?” Spencer asks. 

You pin him with wide eyes. 

“He says she’s pretty with a big ‘p’,” Sofie whispers. 

“She is pretty,” Spencer whispers back. 

You move a chess piece with a breathless laugh. “Okay, then let’s get dinner after I wipe the floor with you both.” 

Spencer decides now is the appropriate time to reveal that he is very good at chess. He and Sofie win in ten moves. 

[killiaia]

MINE

A little something for you guys.

Rosé x male reader.

"Thanks again for coming, girls. " Says Minhyuk. 

"No problem, it's our pleasure! "Replies Jisoo. "Plus we get to see Y/N Oppa" "

" And then Rosé unnie gets to see her boyfriend. "Teases Lisa.

Rosé blushes but can't get the goofy grin off her face. It's been several months since you've seen each other, you with your missions and Rosé with her concerts. A few weeks ago, Minhyuk, one of your soldiers, suggested that Blackpink come and play at your barracks. Naturally, the girls jumped at the chance. 

""Y/N will arrive during the concert. He's not back yet and will have to report in as soon as he arrives. "

"Is he all right? " Rosé asked with a hint of concern in her voice.

"Yes, he's fine. The mission went very well, Rosé. "Minhyuk reassures her.

Rosé lets out a sigh of relief. When you're away, Rosé doesn't hear much about you, and that's what worries her most. She's always afraid of receiving a message announcing your death. 

"I'll let you get changed. I'll be waiting for you on stage. "says Minhyuk.

The girls thank him and start changing. They rehearse a few notes and after checking everything, the girls go on stage.

Minhyuk announces the girls and the curtain rises. The soldiers howl with delight and the girls begin to sing. The atmosphere is electric, the soldiers are so happy to see Blackpink. 

You arrive after several songs and Rosé notices you right away. You wink at her and see Rosé start to dance. You laugh and encourage her.

"COME ON ROSIE! " you shout.

Encouraged by your shouts, Rosé begins to dance sensually, to the delight of the soldiers. Mouth wide open, you watch your girlfriend dance to the shouts of your soldiers. You want to shout something, but a voice next to you interrupts you. 

Rosé sees you talking to a female soldier. She sees you laughing with her and the woman even whispers something in your ear that makes you smile.

"Unnie's jealous. " Lisa says, coming up behind Rosé.

Rosé refocuses on the dance but doesn't take her eyes off you. Yes, Rosé's jealous - she's never hidden it, on the contrary. It's not something that bothers you. Rosé used to be jealous of her members, especially Jennie. So to see you laughing with someone else, and especially with a woman she doesn't know, Rosé can't hide her jealousy. It's written all over her face that she's jealous. Jisoo gives her a pat on the bottom, telling her to concentrate. 

Rosé can't do it. Seeing you having fun with another girl drives her crazy. You've been talking to the female soldier for several minutes now and you haven't looked at Rosé once. Rosé's jealousy explodes when the woman places a kiss on your cheek before leaving.

Rosé sees red and when you finally turn to her, you immediately notice her face. You know this girl too well. You know how to defuse the situation.

" I love you." You mime.

You can clearly see the shock on Rosé's face. You also see a goofy smile settle on the singer's face.

"I love you too. " Mimes Rosé in return.

The girls sing their last song and the curtain closes. The soldiers cheer the girls and you yell at them to go back to their rooms.

Rosé and the girls return to their dressing room, happy with their performance. Still, Rosé can't get the image of the kiss out of her mind. 

"It was only a kiss on the cheek. "Jennie replies, as if she's a mind reader.

Rosé says nothing and sits down on the sofa. Someone knocks and Rosé hopes it's you, but it's only Minhyuk.

"Thanks again, girls! You guys are great. " says Minhyuk.

"You're welcome. " Replies Jisoo 

"Tell me Minhyuk, who was that girl with. Y/N? " Asks Rosé.

"And here we go. " Comments Lisa

"Oh that's Lieutenant Somin. "

" And they're close? " " 

" Rosé I'm not sure if I can tell you. "

"  Minhyuk, it's about MY Boyfriend. "

" Yeah yeah... but he'd be the one to tell you, wouldn't he? 

"Minhyuk. Tell me."

 "He's going to kill me. Well... Y/N and Somin have been together for two years. " "

 EXCUSE ME? " Shouts Rosé. "Is that his ex-girlfriend? " "

" I shouldn't have said anything.. " Minhyuk laments.

Rosé can't believe her ears. She's your ex-girlfriend. That means you're working with your ex-girlfriend and you never told her. 

Blackpink members find this very funny. Minhyuk has managed to escape from the dressing room and Lisa sits down next to Rosé.

"You've got no right to be jealous, unnie. You've written songs about your exes. " "

It's not the same! "Rosé defends herself. 

"It's all the same. "Jisoo contradicts.

"Y/N loves you, you have nothing to worry about. "Jennie replies.

"Oh and then show him he belongs to you. Grab Y/N and fuck him. "Lisa says.

Rosé doesn't wait. She stands up suddenly, despite the protests of her group. Rosé doesn't listen and leaves the dressing room. She hears Lisa's laughter and Rosé sets off in search of you. 

She wanders the corridors looking for you. She passes several soldiers who don't dare move. 

"Excuse me, do you know where Y/N is? "Rosé asks a soldier.

"In his room. It's just down the hall. "

" Thank you. "

Rosé starts looking for you again, and when she arrives in front of your room, Rosé opens the door without knocking. You turn around, ready to yell at the person who's just entered, but you're stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Rosé. A goofy smile appears on your face, but it's quickly replaced by a surprised expression. 

Rosé doesn't wait. She gets down on her knees and starts to remove your belt. 

"Rosie? What the hell...."

You can't finish your sentence, Rosé swallows your cock. Rosé doesn't waste a second making your cock hard. The Australian puts her heart into it. The young woman's mouth is divine.

"Oh my god." You moan 

Pleased to see you moan, Rosé continues her oral assault. With one of her hands, Rose caresses your balls. 

You're just a toy. You're Rosé's toy. You want to say something but each time Rosé engulfs your cock in his mouth. You catch yourself on the shelf behind so good it feels. 

You can't string a word together. You try to grab Rosé but the singer pulls your hands away and continues to suck you. You can see that you're not going to be able to do anything, so you might as well enjoy it. You let your girlfriend suck you off. 

"Y/N Oppa, are you there? " says a voice from behind the door. 

You freeze. Somin is behind the door. Rosé pulls your cock out of her mouth and flashes you a smirk. 

"Rosé, no. " You say.

But Rosé doesn't care, she grabs your dick and starts jerking you off. She starts sucking your balls and you bite your tongue to keep from moaning. 

"Oppa, I wanted to talk to you about the next mission. " says Somin.

You notice Rosé's aggressive jerking off. 

"Later Somin. " You reply. 

You hear Somin leave and breathe a sigh of relief. With your hand, you grab Rosé's chin and force her to look at you. 

"You jealous bitch. "

" You never told me she was your ex,"  Rosé replies, sucking your cock.

You want to reply but Rosé licks your tip. Annoyed by her games, you grab her head and push it onto your cock. 

"If you're going to be a jealous slut you might as well enjoy it. "

"Fuck my mouth. "Rosé looks you straight in the eye.

You grab your cock with one hand and Rosé's face with the other. Rosé opens her mouth wide and you insert your cock into the Australian's mouth.

Rosé closes her mouth and you feel her tongue lick your cock. You move your pelvis and hear Rosé gag. Rosé takes matters into her own hands, literally. She grabs your cock with her hands and starts jerking you off as she continues to suck you. 

It's so good. Just yesterday you were on a mission in the middle of nowhere and today you've got Rosé on her knees with your dick in her mouth. Life is good. 

"I'm going to cum. " You warned Rosé. 

"Come in my mouth. "

You grab your cock and start jerking off. Rosé positions her mouth beneath your cock and you're not going to last long. The sight is too good.

After a few strokes, your cum lands in the singer's mouth. You haven't cum in a long time, so several spurts come out of your cock. 

Completely exhausted, you fall off the bed and Rosé swallows your cum.  The young woman stands up and kisses you. You say nothing and Rosé starts to open the door. Before leaving, she turns around and says. 

"I love you, baby. See you tonight. "

You wave vaguely and Rosé says one last thing. 

"Don't forget you're mine. “

[avocado-writing]

BG3 companions reacting to Tav calling them mommy/daddy?

huehehehehe >:) writing as if you shout it out in the middle of sex without meaning to - minors DNI.

Astarion

Surprised but super into it? Not necessarily because he likes being called daddy but because he can see how much it turns you on.

“Oh? Do you like it when daddy slides his cock into you, darling?”

You go glassy-eyed immediately and he continues to murmur against your skin as he fucks you, aren’t you doing well for daddy? you want to cum around daddy’s cock, hmm?

You do. Harder than you have in weeks.

Afterwards you apologise that you sort of sprung that on him out of nowhere. He smiles and says it was a wonderful little secret for you to share with him.

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” “Absolutely not, darling. Now let daddy give you a kiss. 😌”

Gale

Fucking flabbergasted lmao. Stops mid-thrust

He has never considered himself a “daddy”…

When you see how baffled he is, you clamp your hands over your mouth. You are mortified.

“I am so, so sorry, Gale…” “No, no, love, it’s fine… but maybe… maybe ‘sir’? Not ‘daddy’?”

Your face splits into a devilish smile. “Oh, I can do that… sir.”

His cock hardens even further and he gets to work fucking you again, with gusto…

Karlach

Grins so so so wide

If you try to cover your face in embarrassment, she pulls your hands away so she can make eye contact.

“Aww, you want mummy to take care of you, darling? Make sure you cum?”

All you can do is nod. She fucks you with such vigour that you think you might be about to pass out.

Afterwards she gives you lots of cuddles and checks that you’re okay with how rough she was (you are. A lot.)

Is definitely happy for you to call her that in bed again…

Shadowheart

Is surprised… but interested.

Gives another thrust of her hips, encouraging you to repeat it, letting you be a little writing mess beneath her.

Will keep prompting you. “Call me that again.” “Mummy…” “Again.” “Mummy…!”

Is a bit smug afterwards, when you’re lying there blissed out of your mind from having cum a lot.

“You know, you could have just told me you wanted to use some pet names, rather than letting it slip out in flagrante delicto…”

Laughs when you’re all flustered, using healing magic to soothe any bruises she’s given you. ❤️

Wyll

Another one not super keen on it, and will tell you so.

He just doesn’t find it particularly sexy? He wants sex to be a sweet and intimate thing and well… if you’re going to use names then…

”can you call me your blade? or the blade of frontiers?”

You apologise for springing the ‘daddy’ on him out of nowhere, but when you begin to whisper about him being your 'brave blade' he gets back into it quickly.

Grab onto his horns while telling him to drive his sword home… he’s putty in your hands.

Both have a healthy discussion about what kinks you are and aren’t into the next day. We LOVE a respectful king 👑

Lae’zel

”What? I am not your mother.” “I know Lae’zel, it’s uhh, a sex thing.” “Oh. Why?”

You then have to explain that it’s sort of about respect and domination. A compliment to someone who’s rocked your world.

She smiles enthusiastically and begins to fuck you again properly. Fucks you so hard that your body aches afterwards.

Pillow talk after: “you may call me that again. I enjoy hearing that you know how well I pleasure you.” “Mmm, thank you for that, Lae’zel.” “You are welcome.”

I think it gets brought up in camp because you didn’t realise how loud you shouted it. Your face is on fire for the whole day. Lae’zel just looks pleased with herself.

Halsin

All the blood goes straight to his cock, if that’s even possible when he’s already inside you. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life before.

He’s been called many things in bed before, but hearing that? From you?

Fucks you with an enthusiasm he didn’t realise he was capable of. You moan and cry out and keep chanting “daddy, daddy, daddy” and he cums so much that it drips out your used little hole all down your legs.

He apologises for his over enthusiasm and checks that you’re alright. You grin and kiss him, and promise to start using that word more…

Minthara

She just smiles, I think, and you know she has you wrapped around her little finger.

She fucks you with what borders on violence, so much force that you actually pass out because you came so hard.

So worth it though.

You wake up in her arms and she’s still grinning, stroking your hair.

”Mummy’s very pleased with you.” This is the only acknowledgment she ever gives of it, but if you bring up the name again in bed, she gives a repeat performance 😌

[formulaonecrumbs]

Could you do Lando x older sister reader when she and the rest of family goes to support him on his first karting race?

a champion from the start 🏅

Lando Norris x older sister!reader

summary: the norris family rally around lando for his very first kart race. he’s nervous, but his big sister’s encouragement is all he needs.

warnings: nervous baby lando. all fluffy.

A/N: not much to say but THANK U FOR THE REQUEST ANOONNN!!!! I LOVE U. ❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

home film #12 (out of a gazillion)- found in a cardboard box labelled ‘memories’

(recorded: buckmore park, chatham, kent)

timestamp: 12:11 pm 04-11-2006

the video opens a little shaky, the lens catching the early morning sun flaring across a patchy little kart track. the sky is bright blue, not a cloud in sight. you can hear flo giggling somewhere off-screen and the crinkle of food wrappers as your mum tries to pass out sandwiches nobody wants to eat yet.

then—there he is. tiny lando. a whole head shorter than most of the other kids, wearing a racing suit that still looks a bit too big for him. his helmet is tucked awkwardly under his arm, his other hand clinging tight to the strap of his backpack. he’s bouncing slightly on his toes, nerves practically pouring off him.

“look at him,” ollie’s voice says from behind the camera. “he’s gonna pee himself.”

you swat him off-screen. “shut up, ollie, he’s gonna do great.”

the lens zooms too close suddenly, a shaky shot of lando’s face. he’s trying to look brave. he really is. but he keeps glancing sideways at the older kids already sitting in their karts, engines rumbling. he grips his helmet tighter.

you step into the frame, squatting down a little to meet his eye level.

“hey,” you say, grinning up at him. “you ready, champ?”

lando bites his lip and shrugs, looking suddenly very small under all the gear.

“you’re gonna smash it,” you tell him, totally serious, like you’re talking to an f1 driver and not your seven-year-old baby brother. “you’ve been practicing loads. remember when you beat me around the garden?”

lando’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile.

“and if you get scared,” you add, lowering your voice like it’s a secret just between the two of you, “just pretend you’re racing me. and you wanna beat me so bad you drive like a rocket.”

he finally laughs—a small, shy laugh—and nods.

flo runs into frame, nearly tripping over her own feet, waving a handmade cardboard sign that says “GO LANDO!!!” in messy glitter glue. cisca, still in her stroller, shrieks something incomprehensible but happy.

lando grins properly then, the nerves pushed back by all the noise and love.

“i’ll be really fast,” he promises, looking at you more than anyone else.

you give him a big thumbs up and ruffle his hair until he bats your hand away, laughing.

cut.

the next shot catches him climbing awkwardly into the little kart, a marshall helping him strap in. he looks once over his shoulder, towards the fence where you and the rest of the family are crowded.

you’re the one who waves first—both arms, big and exaggerated so he can see you from all the way over there. ollie shouts “don’t crash!” and you smack him again off-screen, your voice overlapping, “ignore him! go smash it!”

cut.

the final clip: the flag waves. the little engines roar. the karts zoom off like a swarm of bees. lando’s one of the smallest ones out there, his kart wobbling a little around the first corner, but he’s determined. you can hear your parents yelling encouragement, flo screaming random words, and you—you’re the loudest.

“go, lando! go!” you yell, bouncing up and down, hands cupped around your mouth. the camcorder can barely keep up, wobbling wildly trying to catch a glimpse of him through the crowd.

at the very end of the clip, he crosses the finish line—not first, not even top three—but you’d think he won the world championship with how you all react. the camera goes blurry as it jerks upward, someone (probably you) running to the fence to meet him.

and somewhere underneath all the shouts and claps, you can hear it: your voice, proud and so sure—

“told you, champ. you’re the best.”

THE END :>

[cup1dluvhss]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋, written by cup1dluvhs

˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 jim gets into a fight with roy and defends you during the basketball game after roy slaps your ass in front of everyone, and one thing leads to another..

| warnings: assault, fluff, kinda smutty?

| taking requests!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

you held the handrails as you stepped down the staircase into the warehouse, pam at your side as you moved hastily due to the heels on your feet. you regretted not wearing those pink flats you had bought yourself over the weekend.

michael had decided out of nowhere that it’d be fun to hold a basketball game with the office versus the warehouse, but you could tell by the way everyone hesitantly agreed that no one wanted to be here on a monday morning. i mean, anything was better than working, though.

‘so who are you rooting for?’ pam asked you, brushing some of her curls behind her ear as she stepped down the remaining steps of the staircase.

‘oh, the office. jim told me i better be shouting words of encouragement the whole game or else.’ you said, giving her a smile which quickly faded when you saw the look on her face.

‘no. no, pam. it’s nothing. please don’t do this again.’ you moaned as you followed her down to what had been marked as the sidelines, the court all ready and set up.

‘i just don’t know why the two of you haven’t just gotten together already. it’s obvious you both like each other.’ pam said, shrugging her shoulders.

‘shut up, he’s coming!’ you squeaked as your eyes met with jim’s as he walked toward you, roy at his side.

‘hey. sorry you have to watch this. i know you’d much rather be upstairs playing games on your computer.’ jim said as he came within closer proximity of you, his words leaving you letting out breathy giggles, an action which triggered pam to zone out of her conversation with roy and look at you.

‘don’t worry about it halpert. it’ll all be worth it if you win, though.’ you said, titling your head playfully at him.

the action caused his eyes to linger on you a little longer than they should have, his gaze fixated on the adorable look on your pretty face.

‘well, i’ll do the best i can for you. by the way, that only applies if your screaming for me the whole time.’ jim said, a smirk playing at his lips.

before you could respond, michael’s voice boomed loudly across the warehouse, signalling it was time for the teams to gather.

‘good luck. don’t get hurt.’ you said, reaching forward and patting his arm encouragingly. you could feel pam’s gaze burning into the side of your face.

jim was about to say something, that was before roy had turned to face you away from pam.

‘hey, y/n. if i win, can i get a minute alone with you?’ he said, a loud laugh erupting from him the second the words spilled from his mouth.

to say you were disgusted was an understatement, and when you turned to look for help from pam, she was staring at the floor with glossy eyes.

jim however, had clenched fits and knuckles that were going white. he was mad. anyone who ever spoke about you like that in front of him would for sure know not to do it again by the time he was finished with them.

‘hey man, do you mind?’ jim said sternly, turning his body toward roy, practically shielding him from getting to you. god, you loved when he got like this. this wasn’t the first time roy or anyone from the warehouse had hit on you.

‘why don’t you mind your own business, halpert? if the lady has a problem with it why doesn’t she tell me herself?’ he said, turning to look at you with an expectant look, a ‘hm?’ sound coming from his mouth before he walked off to join his team at the center of the court.

jim looked as if he were about to explode, his demeanour darkening considerably after roy had left, his eyes staring daggers into the back of his head.

without thinking, you grabbed his face and pulled it back to look at you, your eyes fixated on his.

‘don’t worry about him. in fact, make him pay for it on the court. yeah?’ you said to him, you hand slowly sliding off of his face and down his chest, before resuming its previous position back at your side.

‘what do you want me to do to him?’ he said, leaning forward slightly so that he was out of earshot of pam. even though roy was being an asshole, he knew she wouldn’t want to hear of any plans to physically hurt her fiancée.

‘whatever you want. anything.’ you said softly, looking up at him with your big eyes.

‘anything i want? you are playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.’ he said, his words practically making your knees buckle, your cheeks going blood red at the nickname.

‘just don’t kill him, okay?’ you said, smiling at him as he nodded and turned away, leaving to join his team in the center of the court.

you turned to pam, hoping that she wasn’t angry or mad at you. yes, it wasn’t your fault roy had hit on you, but you could still imagine that she wouldn’t be too keen on talking to you.

‘pam, i’m sorry.’ you said, stepping closer to your colleague, a reassuring arm finding its way on her shoulder.

‘that’s not your fault, y/n. just wish he’d say that stuff to me.’ she mumbled, leaning her head against your shoulder. roy could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve pam.

the blowing of a whistle suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts, and you found your eyes fixated on jim the moment the ball went into the air. you hated sports, but right now, you could make an exception.

a few minutes had gone by of non stop scoring on the warehouses behalf, and you were still wondering what exactly jim was planning to do to get roy back. the moment that you had conjured that thought, roy’s elbow was swinging into jim’s nose.

‘what the fuck?’ you said, taking a few steps forward out of shock. no whistle had been blown to indicate that anything roy had done was out of line.

almost instantly, the excuses came flooding out of his mouth, a smug look on his face which you knew was bound to make jim want to punch him. and he didn’t punch him, but he did shove him.

roy had squared up on jim afterward, and a flood of empty threats spilled out of his mouth. michael thankfully called for half time, because you were sure that roy was going to end up dead if they were to continue arguing.

jim walked in your direction with a pissed off look on his face, sweat coating his forehead as he reached forward and grabbed the bottle of water you had held out for him to take. as he drank, you then realised he had never looked hotter.

he had blood on his face from the elbow in the nose he had received from roy, and his hair was disheveled almost perfectly that it seemed unnatural. it took you an embarrassingly long amount of time to realise you were staring.

‘is your nose okay?’ you asked, breaking the silence as he handed the water back to you.

‘don’t worry about it, y/n.’ he said bluntly, brushing his hair away from his face as he avoided your gaze.

‘hey, come on. don’t get mad over roy. he’s an idiot, and you’re way smarter and better looking anyway.’ you said, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. oh boy.

‘oh yeah?’ jim said, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the flustered expression on your face.

although, before you could make any attempt to respond, you felt a slapping sensation on a certain part of your body and an all familiar laugh come from behind you.

there was no point in making any attempt to stop jim from tackling roy to the ground, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop him. but there was no harm in trying.

‘jim, come on stop!’ you said, trying to grab onto his arms as he threw punch after punch on roy’s face, some of the guys from the warehouse now gathering around in attempt to pull jim off of roy.

michael had begun to chant ‘fight’, but was quickly silenced by a stern look from pam while she was trying to grab roy away from jim.

once jim had finally been pulled away by a total of four guys, he stormed out of the warehouse and back in the direction of the office, and it didn’t take you long to run right after him.

‘jim, slow down!’ you called after him as you followed in his footsteps back into the office, finding him standing next to your desk with his head in his hands.

‘hey.’ you said softly, walking up to him and pulling his hands away from his face, an expression on his face that you had not yet seen before.

‘god, y/n. i don’t think i’ve ever been more angry in my life.’ he said, his gaze avoiding yours as you found your face flushing slightly.

‘well, thanks. i shouldn’t be encouraging this behaviour but in this case i will. i appreciate what you did for me.’ you said, your tone genuine as he finally let his eyes meet yours. all of a sudden, he started laughing. and you did too.

‘he’s pathetic.’ he said, shaking his head and releasing another laugh before silence fell between the two of you, and both of your eyes interlocked.

you cleared your throat, walking toward his desk while playing with your fingers. you were nervous to be in a room alone with him. you weren’t sure if this had ever happened before.

‘y/n.’ jim said, following after you and standing in front of you, your back to his desk as you racked your brain for something to say.

you turned around, picking up a pen on his desk, before examining it closer. god, you were hopeless.

‘you know, i heard the factory where they make these isn’t far from here.’ you said, feeling his presence closer behind you. you were nervous to turn around.

‘y/n.’ he repeated, this time more desperately. you felt your heart rate quicken as you turned around, and the second you did, his hands were on either side of your face and his lips were meeting yours hungrily.

‘jim.’ you breathed in between each moment your mouths weren’t connected, a soft hum coming from him telling you he was in no place to stop.

your lips moved together like a rhythm, his tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, soft moans emitting from you as one of his hands fell down to your thigh, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

his other hand fell down from your neck and both slipped around the back of your legs, lifting you onto his desk effortlessly. a few things on his desk fell of and clattered on the floor, but he was too focused on you to care.

his lips fell from yours to your neck, his mouth working against your skin almost as if he’d memorised all the right spots to kiss. his tongue brushed against your skin and teeth nipped your neck, and you were sure there would be marks by the time he was done with you.

you moaned loudly, not being able to help yourself from biting back the noises you were so desperate to make.

‘hey, as much as i love hearing those pretty noises, i don’t want anyone else to hear them except for me, yeah? think you can be quieter?’ he muttered to you, his head dropping back down to your neck, resuming the same pattern he was before.

you nodded profusely, not wanting him to stop anytime soon.

‘let me hear you say it.’ he said against your skin, his fingers digging into your thighs.

‘i’ll be quiet, i promise.’ you practically moaned out, your hand going to the back of his neck to pull his hair as a way to relieve the tension in your body.

‘good girl.’ he said, his words alone making you want to moan even louder then you had before.

‘you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this, do you?’ he questioned, his hands gripping your thighs and lifting the tight pencil skirt you wore further and further upward.

‘jim, i really don’t wanna do this in the office.’ you said, placing your hands on top of his to prevent him from going any further.

‘good point.’ he said, giving your neck one last kiss before pulling away from you, letting you slip off his desk and readjust your clothes.

he watched you as you did so, and couldn’t help but stare. god, you were so perfect. he didn’t know how he’d lasted this long without touching you the way he’d done a minute before.

‘we should probably go back down there. and i presume you do wanna see me slap the shit out of roy, right?’ you said with a smug look on your face, your smile widening the minute you saw jim’s eyes immediately lighting up.

‘oh you wouldn’t.’ he said, his gaze fixated on you to see if there was any sign you weren’t going to do what you said you were.

‘wanna bet?’ you said, turning your back to him and walking back toward the direction of the warehouse, giggling to yourself at the sound of jim’s gasp and his footsteps close behind yours.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Just How Fast The Night Changes.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist.

in which, your out at a christmas market with your friends, you end up hurting yourself on the ice rink, resulting in you going to the hospital, where your fiance is doing the night shift.

word count - 3.1k

authors note - hi everyone! hope your all doing okay, just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who wished me well, im feeling much better and couldn’t wait to get back to writing for you all. enjoy huns. 🩵

Winter Wonderland was one of your favourite places to go to.

The air was crisp, nipping at your cheeks, and fairy lights are strung above like a canopy of stars, casting everything in a soft golden glow.

There’s the faint sound of Christmas carols playing somewhere, blending with the delighted shouts of children and the soft murmur of conversations.

The smell of roasted chestnuts and sweet cinnamon drifts through the air, and the ice rink is at the heart of it all, glowing an icy blue under the lights.

You’ve never been ice skating before,so you don’t know why you let Lauren talk you into taking part.

Your fingers are clutching the edge of the rink like it’s a lifeline, knuckles white as you attempt to shuffle forward. Your legs wobble beneath you, and your skates feel like they’re made of jelly instead of blades.

"Come on, you’re doing fine!" Lauren says, her voice full of encouragement. She’s gripping your hand tightly, her fingers warm despite the cold.

She’s only slightly steadier than you are, but at least she’s moving without needing the barrier.

“I am not doing fine,” you reply, your voice shaky as your foot slides unexpectedly and you lurch forward. Lauren pulls you back upright, laughing.

“You’re still standing. That’s a win,” she says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Her laughter is warm, and somehow it makes you laugh, too, despite the fact that you’re fairly certain you’re about to end up on the ice any second.

The ice rink is alive with movement around you. Experienced skaters glide by effortlessly, spinning and weaving through the crowd like dancers, their scarves trailing behind them.

Meanwhile, a group of kids to your left are shrieking with laughter as they tumble over each other in a heap, only to scramble back up and try again.

You look down at your feet, trying to muster the courage to let go of the side.

“How are you not falling every two seconds?” you ask, eyeing Lauren suspiciously.

She grins.

“Years of rollerblading as a kid,” she admits. “But trust me, I’m no pro. Just don’t overthink it—bend your knees a little, and try to glide.”

You nod, trying to follow her advice. Your knees bend slightly, and you release the edge for a split second. It feels like flying—for exactly half a second—before your foot slips and you grab the barrier again, your heart pounding.

Lauren’s laugh rings out again, but it’s never mean.

“Okay, okay,” she says, steadying you.

“Baby steps. I’ve got you.” She pulls you gently forward, her grip on your hand solid.

Somehow, with Lauren’s guidance and a lot of laughter, you manage a few shaky steps away from the edge.

You’re still wobbling, your arms flailing like a baby bird trying to take flight, but you’re moving.

The world around you feels magical, even with your nerves and the ache already forming in your ankles. Snowflakes begin to fall softly, catching the light as they drift down. You glance at Lauren, her face lit up with joy, and you can’t help but smile.

“See?” she says, beaming at you. “You’re doing it!”

“I’m barely surviving,” you reply, but you’re laughing now, the kind of laugh that feels like it comes straight from your chest.

And just like that, your left foot slips out from under you, and suddenly you’re falling backward.

It happens so fast that you don’t even have time to brace yourself. The cold, unforgiving ice meets your arm and hip with a jarring thud, the shock of it knocking the breath from your lungs.

Pain shoots up your arm immediately, sharp and searing, and you can feel tears springing to your eyes before you can stop them.

“Are you okay?!” Lauren is beside you in an instant, dropping to her knees on the ice. Her hands hover uncertainly, not wanting to hurt you further as you cradle your arm. “Talk to me—what hurts?”

You wince, sucking in a shaky breath.

“My arm. It—oh, it really hurts, Lozza.” Your voice is trembling, a mixture of shock and pain making it hard to focus.

A concerned voice interrupts.

“Do you need help?” It’s a passerby, a woman in a red scarf who’s skated over to check on you.

She glances over her shoulder and waves for someone. “I’ll get an ice marshal.”

Everything feels blurry after that, the sounds around you a mix of laughter and skating blades against ice, clashing with the sharp ache radiating from your arm.

Lauren stays right by your side, her voice soft but firm as she reassures you. “It’s okay, help’s coming. You’re going to be okay.”

An ice marshal arrives within moments, dressed in a bright yellow jacket that makes them easy to spot.

They crouch beside you, their expression serious but calm.

“Hi,” they say, their tone professional but kind. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I—I fell,” you manage, the words catching in your throat. “Landed on my arm. It hurts a lot.”

The marshal nods, their gaze assessing as they look at your arm, though you’re still clutching it close to your body.

“Okay, I see you’re in a lot of pain,” they say. “We’re going to get you some help. I think we need to call an ambulance to check this out, just to be safe.”

Hearing the word “ambulance” makes your stomach flip, and the tears spill over, unbidden. Lauren immediately scoots closer, putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she says softly, her voice steady and warm, like an anchor in the chaos. “They’re just being cautious. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

The ice marshal steps away briefly to make the call, and you can hear them relaying details to the dispatcher. Meanwhile, Lauren stays with you, her knees probably freezing against the ice, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“I feel so stupid,” you mumble, the tears still flowing.

“Don’t,” Lauren says firmly. “This could happen to anyone. Besides, you were doing amazing—I mean, up until this part.”

She gives you a small, reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. It works, if only a little.

The waiting feels both endless and too quick. People around you keep glancing over, their curiosity clear, but Lauren glares at anyone who stares too long.

“Nothing to see here,” she mutters under her breath, making you snort despite the pain.

When the paramedics arrive, they move with practiced efficiency, asking questions, checking your arm, and gently placing it in a makeshift sling before helping you off the ice and onto a stretcher. Lauren is right behind you, her hand never leaving yours until they load you into the ambulance.

Harry was sitting at his desk in the bustling emergency department, pen in hand as he worked through a stack of paperwork.

The hum of the hospital surrounded him—phones ringing, monitors beeping, and the occasional burst of hurried footsteps.

He was focused, brows furrowed in concentration, when a nurse approached him.

“Dr. Styles?” she said, her tone gentle but urgent.

Harry glanced up, his professional demeanor shifting slightly at the nurse’s expression.

“Yes?” he said, setting his pen down.

“It’s about your fiancée,” she began, her voice careful. “She’s just been brought in. A suspected arm injury from a fall. She’s stable, but she’s in a lot of pain.”

His heart stopped for a moment, then kicked into overdrive. He was on his feet before she even finished speaking. “Where is she?”

The nurse motioned down the hall. “She’s in Room 14. I’ll take you to her.”

Harry turned to the head of the department, who had been standing nearby, observing the exchange.

“Go,” they said with a nod, understanding immediately. “We’ll cover for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quickly, already moving to follow the nurse.

As he walked, his mind raced. He knew this hospital inside and out, every corridor, every turn, but now the route to Room 14 felt impossibly long.

The thought of you being in pain, of you lying there alone and scared, made his chest tighten. He was usually so composed, so steady under pressure, but this was different.

This was you.

His darling.

The nurse glanced back at him as they neared the room, her pace slowing.

“She’s alert and talking, but she’s shaken up,” she said. “An x-ray has been done we’re just waiting for the results, but the arm looks like it might be fractured.”

Harry nodded, his jaw clenching as he processed the information. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He needed to be calm for you, reassuring, even though his heart was pounding in his chest.

As they reached the door to Room 14, the nurse stepped aside, motioning for him to go in. Harry hesitated for half a second, his hand resting on the doorframe. He could hear the faint murmur of your voice inside, and the sound sent a wave of both relief and worry through him.

He pushed the door open, stepping inside.

You’re sitting on the hospital bed, your good arm clutching the blanket draped over your lap.

A nurse is patiently trying to insert an IV into your injured arm, but you keep squirming away, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps.

“Please, no, I can’t,” you say, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “I hate needles—I really hate them.”

The nurse, clearly used to this sort of reaction, gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s scary, but this will help with the pain. We’ll make it quick, I promise.”

“No,” you insist, pulling your arm back again despite the throb of pain shooting through it. “I—I can’t. Just give me pills or something. I don’t need the IV.”

The door opens suddenly, and your heart skips a beat when you see Harry stride into the room, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His hair is slightly messy from a long shift, and his brow is furrowed with concern.

“M’love,” he says, his voice soft but urgent as he crosses the room in a few quick steps. “S’going on?”

The nurse straightens up and explains, “She’s scared of the IV, Doctor Styles. We’re trying to administer some pain relief, but she’s very nervous.”

Harry’s face softens as he looks at you, crouching down so he’s eye level.

“Hey, s’okay. M’ here now,” he says gently, reaching for your free hand. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “The IV’s going to help. I know it’s scary, but you’re so much stronger than you think.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I can’t, H. I really can’t. It’s too much.”

“Yes, you can,” he says firmly but lovingly, leaning closer. “I promise it’ll be over before you know it, and I’ll be right here the whole time. You won’t even have to look at it, okay? Just look at me.”

His free hand comes up to rest gently against your cheek, his touch grounding you.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his green eyes searching yours.

You nod, swallowing hard. “I trust you.”

“Good,” he says, his lips twitching into a small, reassuring smile. He straightens up and glances at the nurse. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll keep her calm.”

The nurse nods and moves closer again, preparing the IV. Harry shifts, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you gently against him so your head rests against his neck.

“Just focus on me,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. His fingers thread through your hair in soft, repetitive strokes. “You’re doing so well, love. You’ve got this. Deep breaths for me, yeah? In…and out.”

You close your eyes, your tears soaking into his shirt as you follow his lead, breathing in time with him.

“Almost there,” the nurse says, her voice calm. “You’re doing great.”

Harry keeps talking to you, his voice a steady stream of comfort. “Remember that time we went to the beach, and you got all excited about finding those tiny crabs in the tide pools? You weren’t scared then. You were brave. You’re brave now, too.”

You let out a shaky laugh despite yourself, clinging to the warmth of his words. Before you know it, the nurse says, “All done.”

“See?” Harry says, pulling back slightly to look at you, his fingers still in your hair. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

You glance down at your arm, surprised to see the IV already taped in place. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Harry confirms, a smile tugging at his lips. “Easiest thing in the world for someone as tough as you.”

You manage a small, sheepish smile, leaning into him as the nurse adjusts the IV drip. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Of course you could’ve,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you don’t have to do it alone. That’s why I’m here.”

And in that moment, despite the pain and the fear, you feel safe.

The nurse finishes adjusting the IV drip and gives you both a warm smile.

“All set. The doctor will be here shortly with the results of your X-ray,” she says. “I’ll give you two some privacy in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” Harry says, nodding at her as she steps out of the room, pulling the curtain half-closed behind her.

As soon as she’s gone, Harry pulls the chair closer to your bedside and takes your uninjured hand in both of his. His thumb moves in slow, soothing circles over your skin, his eyes scanning your face.

“Okay,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “Now, tell me what happened. And don’t say, ‘It’s nothing,’ because you’re here with an IV in your arm, and that’s definitely not nothing.”

You let out a small sigh, your voice still shaky. “Lauren and I were at Winter Wonderland, and we decided to try ice skating.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Ice skating? You’ve never been ice skating in your life.”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “That’s why it went so badly. I was clinging to the side the whole time, but then I tried to let go, and my foot slipped. I landed on my arm.”

Harry winces, his hand tightening around yours for a moment. “That must’ve hurt like hell.”

“It did,” you admit, your voice quiet. “But honestly, I think the embarrassment hurt more. Everyone was staring, and Lauren was trying to help, but then someone called over an ice marshal, and—”

“Wait, an ice marshal?” Harry interrupts, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “That sounds way too official for a skating accident.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Tell me about it. Anyway, they called an ambulance, and Lauren stayed with me the whole time. She was amazing, but I just kept thinking how ridiculous I must’ve looked.”

Harry’s expression softens again, his humor giving way to a deeper concern. He leans forward, his voice low and steady. “Hey, listen to me. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Accidents happen, especially when you’re trying something new. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse—and that you’ve got good people like Lauren looking out for you.”

Speaking of Lauren, she was most likely speaking to the paramedics that brought you in, she definitely found him good looking.

You nod, biting your lip. “I still feel a bit stupid, though.”

“Don’t,” he says firmly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You’re human, love. And now I have a good excuse to keep you off the ice forever.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile that forms. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of ice skating either?”

“Not even a little,” he admits with a grin. “But I would’ve held your hand out there, just like Lauren did—though I probably would’ve fallen right along with you.”

You laugh softly, the warmth of his words easing some of the tension in your chest. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

The curtain pulls back, and the doctor steps in, holding a clipboard. She’s wearing a calm, reassuring smile as she approaches.

“Hello,” she says, glancing between you and Harry. “We’ve looked at your X-rays, and I’ve got some answers for you.”

You sit up a little straighter, your stomach twisting nervously. “Okay…”

“You’ve got a hairline fracture on your radius,” she explains, tapping a spot on the diagram attached to her clipboard. “It’s not severe, but it does mean you’ll need to have your arm in a cast to protect it while it heals. We’ll get that set up for you shortly, and it should come off in about six weeks.”

You let out a long sigh, slumping back against the pillow. “Six weeks?”

The doctor nods sympathetically. “I know it’s inconvenient, but it’s important to let the bone heal properly. You’ll need to avoid heavy lifting, and we’ll give you instructions for keeping the cast dry and comfortable.”

You nod, but your mind is already spinning. “So…that means I’ll have a cast over Christmas?”

The realization makes your heart sink a little.

You picture yourself struggling to wrap presents, trying to cook with one arm, and navigating all the holiday traditions you love with this big, awkward thing on your arm.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor adds, noticing your reaction. “A lot of people find they get used to it faster than they expect. And six weeks will go by before you know it.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Harry says, his voice steady and polite.

As the doctor leaves to prepare the materials for your cast, Harry turns back to you, his green eyes sparkling with determination.

“Alright,” he says, pulling his chair even closer. “This is not a big deal. In fact, we’re going to make it fun.”

“Fun?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “How is having a cast fun?”

Harry leans forward, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Because I’m going to be the first to sign it. Big, bold letters, right across the top.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite your frustration. “And what are you going to write?”

“Oh, something sentimental,” he says with a mock-serious tone. “Like, ‘To the most amazing ice skater I know.’ Or maybe just, ‘Next time, use bubble wrap.’”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, the weight of the situation starting to feel a little lighter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I am,” he agrees, leaning closer to kiss your temple. “But I’m also going to make sure this is the best Christmas you’ve ever had—even if you’re stuck with a cast.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap protectively around you. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Always,” he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair again. “Now, let’s get this cast on, and then we’ll figure out how to turn it into a masterpiece of modern art. Sound good?”

[crazyyluvr]

Heyy I was wondering if I could request a Sirius x Lily's older brother that plays drums fic? Like Lily brings the Marauders to his band's show and Sirius is instantly in love with him. Sirius is like "who is that?" and Lily's like 'bruh that's my brother he literally goes to school with us'. Also can the reader be ravenclaw? Thank you broski 🙏

Drummers are Hot.

I'm so sorry it took so long to finish this, but thank you for requesting!! <33

summary: Sirius fawning over a boy in a band that's older, sweeter, and wayyy hotter than him.

Sirius Black x male!drummer!reader

1.8k words :: not proofread

Sirius always dressed to impress.

No matter what occasion, he would pour all his effort into making sure that he looked amazing, that his clothes and his form would capture the attention of both guys and girls alike in every room he enters.

He liked the attention, as simple as that.

However, the moment he entered the Great Hall, it was like one of the concerts Remus talked about that were normally held among the Muggles; lights flashed everywhere, the benches were pushed into the far corners of the hall to give way to people standing in front. No one paid him any mind once he stepped into the Great Hall because they were all wrapped up in their own thing as they danced and sung to the pre-recorded song playing in some invisible speakers.

"I kind of regret agreeing to go here now," Peter said, his voice sounding like a murmur over the noise in the room.

James patted him harshly in the shoulder. "C'mon Wormtail, live a little! It's gonna be a nice way to end the year if you just let loose!"

And with that, James departed with their group to find his girlfriend.

"I wonder when the band will perform," Sirius said to Remus, having to nearly shout to be heard.

Remus glanced at his watch. "I think in a few minutes." He looked up and gestured at the stage. "They're doing their soundcheck."

Sirius followed his gaze and saw three students fussing over gadgets set on the stage that was put up for this final occasion.

Lily was the one who had encouraged the Marauders to attend the end-of-school party that the seventh-years were hosting. It wasn't really a common occurrence, since their past seniors were always too busy with NEWTs and preparing for their life outside of Hogwarts to host anything good.

Lily specifically told Sirius to go because:

"I'm sure you'll enjoy watching them."

Sirius let out a huff.

So far, I'm not seeing anything special, Red.

But Sirius knew better than to judge just by first appearances, so he decided to mingle around with some classmates as he made his way to Lily and James, who were close to the stage up front. Remus followed behind, with Peter getting caught up in the crowd.

"What's got you so interested in this band, Red?" Sirius asked when he was close enough to Lily and her friends.

Marlene let out a laugh. "They're hot."

Dorcas clicked her tongue. "You say that when you have me as a girlfriend, right here. Ouch."

Marlene laughed again and placed a chaste kiss on Dorcas's cheek. "I love you Dor, but I say they're hot in the nicest, most platonic way possible."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but the lights in the Great Hall dimmed, encompassing everyone in almost complete darkness. Sirius was confused, but the students around him cheered in anticipation.

Then the lights came back on, and there were people back on the stage, each holding different instruments and wearing different styles of clothing that suited all of them.

The one in the middle holding a guitar spoke into the mic. "Thank you so much for coming to our end-of-the-year event. As you know, most of us are seventh-years," he gestured to the other members with him, "and we decided to end this year on the stage performing for you all."

The crowd cheered, the flashing lights accentuating their excitement.

"Before we start performing, I wanted to introduce ourselves before you all get too wasted to remember our names." His words made chuckles ripple through the sea of students.

One by one, the members of the band were introduced, roars deafening Sirius as boys and girls alike shouted professions of love for their chosen member.

"And, the crowd favorite and our youngest member, our drummer!" The guitarist gestured behind him, stepping aside to give everyone a proper view of the drummer.

Sirius squinted a bit to see through the raised hands in the crowd, but his eyes promptly widened when his gaze landed on him. You.

You did a short sequence on the drums, raising your hands to wave at the crowd with a lopsided smile on your face.

"Holy shit." He couldn't stop himself from speaking.

Marlene was quick to guffaw at his awestruck reaction. "I told ya they were hot! The drummer especially!"

"Who is he?!" He asked.

Lily heard his question and turned to answer him with a mischievous smile on her face. "That's my older brother!" She replied.

Sirius did a double take at that. "You have a brother? Since when??!"

"Since I was born," Lily grinned, her quick wit still not failing her in the five years he's known her.

Sirius never got to say anything back before the band started playing their song. All of them were pretty good at their respective instruments, but Sirius's eyes were glued onto you. You were at the back of the band, not as seen as the others that stood in front of you, but every time Sirius could get a proper glance at you, he couldn't help but think, how does someone look so gorgeous when playing the drums?

Let's just say, you two never held a proper conversation that night, but when you made eye contact with him despite the flashing lights and the jumping crowd, the smile you gave him ensnared him in your trap.

He was entranced by you.

—————

It was a whole summer before he saw you again.

He spent his time in hell — ahem, with his family wondering more and more about you, even going as far as to asking Regulus if he knew you.

Surprisingly, he's heard of you; you were going to be a seventh year when they would come back to school. You were the only younger one in your band of graduates. You were Ravenclaw. And you were Lily's brother.

The wait to return to Hogwarts was damn near unbearable. Sirius not only wanted to get out of his house and see his friends again, but he also made it his personal mission to become friends with you — maybe even more if you'd let it.

"Hey Red," he greeted Lily fondly, pulling her into a friendly hug and breaking away. "Where's your brother?"

Lily rose an eyebrow at his question, already sort of understanding what was happening with him. "He's at the compartments towards the end of the train," she replied, watching in amusement as Sirius's head bowed down in defeat, like how a dog would when sad.

"Does Pads miss his crush?" James teased as they departed from the girls to go to their own compartment.

Sirius rolled his eyes, ignoring the feeling of his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "Sod off, Prongs. I don't miss him."

"Sureee," James hummed, letting out a laugh when Sirius tried to elbow him but narrowly missed.

They spent most of the ride doing their usual antics, sharing stories about their summers and eating sweets from the trolley. Sirius looked out the window and saw the familiar sight of Hogwarts in the distance.

"I'm gonna go freshen up," Sirius announced, standing with a small black bag in hand as he left their compartment to head towards the bathroom so he could put on some makeup before arriving at school.

Once he reached the bathroom, he goes to grab the handle, but the door shoots open, hitting his hand and making Sirius curse and wince.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," the person on the other side of the door said frantically, approaching him and grasping his hand, the pads of his fingers rubbing across the surface of Sirius' pale skin as if to soothe the pain away.

Sirius was about to snap and pull his hand back until he saw the face of the person holding it.

It was Lily's older brother. You.

You looked different from the concert he last saw you in the previous year. You were a bit taller, your hair was different, but you had the same soft gaze and overall aura.

"It's — it's alright," Sirius stammered out, ears turning pink as he realized that you were holding his hand.

"Are you sure?" You asked again, looking up at him with your brows furrowed in worry. Your genuine expression made Sirius's heart clench.

"Yeah," he said, trying for a confident smile, but it felt wobbly on his lips. "All good!"

You reluctantly let the matter go, along with his hand. Sirius was already missing the warmth.

"Again, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to open the door on your hand," you said.

Sirius waved your apologies away. "You're fine. It's all good," he repeated. Did I just call him fine?? What the fuck am I doing.

"Uh," you scratched the back of your head awkwardly. "You're Sirius, right? Lily's said a lot about you."

Sirius perked up at that. "Really? What did she say?" He asked.

You smiled. "A lot of good things, like how you keep her safe from the students who discriminate her. Thank you for that, by the way."

"It's no problem," Sirius said. He acted cool, but in the inside, he was soaring. You knew him as a good friend to your sister. That was a good impression, right?

"Ah — speaking of, I never caught your name," Sirius said. Of course he knew who you were, but he wanted to keep speaking to you.

"Oh! Right," You reached out your hand and said your name. "I'm Lily's brother. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sirius."

"Likewise!" Sirius grinned and shook your hand. He reveled in the size difference, your hand a bit bigger than his and a lot warmer. He could feel callouses on your skin, undoubtedly from playing drums as well as you did.

The moment ended too soon for Sirius's liking as you slid your hand out of his grip. "I better get back," you said, jabbing your thumb behind you. "And you should probably use the bathroom already before people start rushing here."

"Ah." Sirius almost completely forgot that he went here to retouch his makeup. "Right."

"I'll see you around, then," you said, waving at him before turning around and leaving to go back to your classmates.

Sirius hurriedly entered the bathroom and buried his face in his hands that already kind of smelled like you. They did good in muffling his flustered screams as he fought to regain his composure before finally focusing on his makeup.

You had one last year in this school, which meant one last year for Sirius to get to properly know you before the chances to talk to you dwindle into little to none once you graduate and inevitably find a job.

One last year to make you see Sirius as not just your sister's protector, or as a new friend, but maybe as something more.

[superblysubpar]

modern!husband!steve harrington x wife!you

2,603 words

warnings: so like, technically, you don't have to read "We'll Call It Love" , my modern steve series, BUT you're missing soooooo much that got these two idiots here, so I really encourage you to do so. This scene is so so so much more fun if you know all that led up to it, I promise. anyways: | alcohol mentions, slight descriptions of use by reader | smut (public - you get caught *kind of* / fingering / piv unprotected intercourse - creampie / wife,mom,breeding, all the kinks from one Mr. Harrington) - 18+ as always

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!

A/N: I just wanted to say again, thanks for loving We'll Call It Love so much. I actually got to go see the band COIN last night, the music that inspired the fic, the screenplay, and just...wow. I don't have other words for it. Idk, feeling very sappy for all of you today and this story that means so much to me. Thanks for being here, it was fun to revisit these two 💛 and *now* I'm done with them.

Probably.

The day hadn’t been without its issues, but he’d expect nothing less, when it comes to the two of you.

First, there was Eddie’s girlfriend showing up in fake blood, late, covered in swatches of dark and gory fake gashes and goo all down her arms as she frantically rushed past him and shouted something about busy season and don’t worry, his bride was gonna look beautiful and not in a tragically haunting poetic way but in a romantic sunset kissed glowing kind of way.

Which, you did.

But then, there was an issue with the cake, which, wasn’t supposed to be a cake, but a bunch of peach pies. Robin and Nancy were whispering loud enough to bring him into the kitchen, both of their mouths snapped shut as Steve blinked at the largest solitary pie he’d ever seen. It was massive, comically so, and Robin was waving her hands at him, it’s going be fine spilling out of her lips that had just been freshly glossed for photos. Nancy was on the phone with a bakery and then Eddie was stumbling through the door shouting about canceling the order. He smiled at Steve and told him that you started crying which made him frown and start towards the direction Eddie had just come from, but his groomsman and your best man stopped him, assured him that then you started laughing, that you said your parents would have loved it.

Which, ultimately led to issue number three.

Robin had approached him slowly, fixing his tie, before she whispered that they couldn’t find you, but that there was a note, with his name on it. He had grabbed it with trembling fingers, only to find it didn’t say anything like sorry or I can’t do this, but a quote:

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

He rushed past Robin, shouted about being right back.

Steve found you on a balcony, which took a little bit of work, asking the front desk if anyone booked a room under Buttercup, or Allie, Kate, and ultimately Sally Albright. Then they wouldn’t give him the room number till he confirmed his name was Harry Albright, not Harry Burns. His breath caught in his chest when you turned to look at him, chin quivering and a quiet greeting for him before you started crying. It all ended alright, after you talked about your parents and him and all of it and he kissed you and made a joke about wedding curses. If seeing you in your dress before the ceremony already happened, where was the harm in a sunset balcony quickie?

You didn’t go for it that time, only grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room with you, asking if he was ready to get married.

Which he really fucking was.

The floor to ceiling windows overlooking the skyline had been good in theory, letting in the beautiful, breathtaking sunset as you said your vows. But they also let in the warmth, the room an oven, leading you to laughing during the ceremony and swiping at his temple with your handkerchief and Eddie fanning Robin while she officiated. And cried.

There was so much crying.

But it was perfect.

You were perfect.

“Sir?”

Steve blinked away from where he was watching you take pictures in the vintage photobooth, you, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie’s girlfriend were all crammed in, sitting on each other’s laps, to the attendant in front of him.

Perfect, but distracting.

“So sorry, what did you ask?”

The venue employee smiled, like he knew the look on Steve’s face well, and then he shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, sir. I was just letting you know that all the gifts are put away and locked in the car downstairs as instructed by your wife. Anything else I can do for you?”

His wife.

Steve looked over at you again, sighing as you tilted your head back in a laugh at the images in Robin’s hand.

He smiled at the man in front of him and shook his hand, “No, thank you.”

You felt him before you saw him, or rather, smelt him.

Your body spun to find the source of the salty and fried scent to see Steve holding a container of fresh french fries and a smile and eyes that seemed to be perfectly made, and only for you.

“Hey Mrs. Harrington,” he kissed your cheek, lips lingered against your skin as he asked, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you groaned, your body crumpled against his as you exchanged your glass of champagne for the fries you knew would end up being a great late night snack offered. Warmth filled your stomach at the sound of your new last name, like a lovesick idiot you swore you’d never be.

Steve lifted a fry to your mouth, eyes a deep burnt amber in the low reception lighting as he watched your lips part and steal the fry from between his fingers, his tongue with a mind of it’s own, swiping out over his bottom lip as yours brushed the pad of his thumb.

You snorted.

“You’re so easy, Harrington.”

Steve lifted the fries away from you, eyes glinting as you pouted and reached for them half-heartedly, content to just lean against his body instead as he joked, “Hey. We’re married. You have to be nice to me now.”

Warm breath hit his jaw as you huffed, “Well, if I knew that was the rule, I never would have said I do a few hours ago.”

A kiss was pressed to his neck despite your words, right against his two freckles, then a smile ghosted against his skin when you heard the low rumble in his chest.

Steve’s lips brushed your ear as he bent down, speaking softly, lowly, and sending the warmth between your stomach directly between your legs.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle, honey.”

Your head lifted, stares at one another challenging and hopelessly and sickeningly in love to anyone who was watching.

“Oh,” you laughed, quietly, leaned in to whisper against his lips, “I think I can handle you just fine, Mr. Harrington.”

He had you in the bathroom not even a minute later, one hand locking the door behind him and the other pressing over your mouth as you giggled.

Steve’s mouth was all over your neck as his hands found your hips, guiding you to the counter.

“You’re so beautiful,” words warm and sticky and sweet against your skin as your head fell back against his shoulder in a gasp when his lips found a new spot behind your ear. “Can’t believe I’m married to you. Can’t believe you said yes. Can’t believe you’re all-“

His hand smacked at your ass as he grabbed a fistful of it, scrunching up the fabric of your dress you could care less about now as he growled in your ear the word, “Mine.”

“Steve,” you hated how breathless you sounded, hated how he’d barely touched or kissed you and you were wrecked already, “Hurry.”

He whined into the crook of your neck, spun you and let his nose trace along the straps of your dress, across the lace covering your chest as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Steve knelt, regretfully removing his lips from your skin so he could carefully lift your dress, handing it to you with a quiet, “Hold this, honey.”

He pressed a kiss to your check as you did what you were told, but then he got a proper look at you and your lip was captured between your teeth at his groan, from the way his hands ran through his hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed, as his finger trailed up your thigh and found custom, cream colored straps and shiny buckles and pretty lace you’d ordered just for him. “Look at you.”

“You like it?” The question answered by Steve’s own lip bitten raw, his fingers still roaming higher, up the sides of your cunt, already soaked.

“Baby,” Steve laughed, eyes cast down between your bodies, watching carefully as his fingers slipped beneath the wet lace. “Do I like it? I love it.”

“That’s,” your head fell back, exposing your neck his mouth was grateful for. Distracted by the way he dragged his fingers through you, swirled around your clit, the same way his tongue was against your throat. “Go-good.”

Steve pressed against your clit harder, humming against your skin where his mouth was still latched to when your body shook underneath him. Your thighs clamped around his hand, yours clutched at his shoulders with fistfuls of your dress still between your fingers.

He removed his fingers from you, quick to make work of his buckle and pants, aligning himself with you but hesitating just as his tip brushed against your entrance.

Steve looked up at you, under his lashes that cast shadows against pink cheeks dotted with freckles. He gazed at you with the kind of look that you imagined you gave a sunset. Admiring, awed, like you were taking in its beauty the first time every time. Like you knew your time with it might be fleeting, so you had to watch it every second so you didn't miss a single second of it.

He leaned in and let his lips brush over yours tenderly, deciding to take his time and forget the frantic pace you both had started with.

He murmured into your lips as they parted in a sigh beneath his kiss.

“I love you. So much. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you in that bar, I texted Robin about soul mates before I talked to you, I-“

You caught his top lip between yours, an over too quick kiss, but then you were speaking into the corner of his mouth, against his jaw.

“I love you too.”

Steve’s forehead knocked yours, your hips wiggled, making his dick twitch as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“Ready, Mrs. Harrington?”

The tip of your nose brushed his as your laugh bubbled out of you, voice all sarcastic and fond, “Ready? I’ve been ready, Steve. You’re the one taking his tim-ohmygod.”

Steve’s smug smirk twitched in front of you as he thrust into you while fake grumbling, “Me? How about you miss I’m gonna wait over a year to say I love-fuckyoufeelsogood…”

He rolled his hips, only getting deeper, and your thighs tightened on the outside of his, head thrown back against the mirror from the feeling of him inside you, which he followed. His lips skated over your cheek, your jaw, as he slowly pulled out of you and thrust back in.

Your mouth fell open with each drag against your walls that cling to him, that want him to stay there. A noise catches in the back of your throat every time he pushes into you, each time only harder and deeper as he babbled.

“Sorry, I wanted,” he grunted, mouth finding yours only to kiss you once and keep talking, “The first time I have sex with my wife to last, to linger, to-“

Your mouth captured his in a kiss this time, tugging on his bottom lip and gasping into his open mouth when he thrust faster, shallower, your name a begged breath between the two of you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wait anymore,” you whimpered, your dress left your fingers so you could grip the back of his head, card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, “To finally have sex with my husband.”

Steve moaned at the word husband, twitching inside of you, which made you grin at the way his hips stuttered, at the way his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Yeah?” You gripped at the back of his head a little harder, knowing what each other liked now. He frantically pushed under the fallen dress to find your clit again with ease, trying to get the upper hand once more as you asked, “You like me calling you my husband, Steve?”

Your mouth brushed the apple of his cheek, it kissed his temple as he fell forward, thrusting faster and making quick figure eights against your nerves, gasping at your teasing.

“Wanna tell everyone I’m your wife? Tell ‘em I’m a Harrington?” Your stomach clenched at the thought too, at the pace which Steve slammed into you even harder, hips meeting in a filthy grind as your head knocked against the mirror. The thumps mingling with the sound of how you were coating him, all a little louder in the bathroom and only making you both a little more turned on.

His forehead pressed to yours as he nodded, lips of parted mouths catching every time he thrust. He moaned, he begged, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna tell them. Wanna…want…pregnant. Mine.”

Your back arched, hand searching until it found his, lacing your fingers together. His others grew sloppy against your clit, slipping over it as you nodded. Chest aching from his admission, from the way you sort of wanted it too, how it didn’t scare you as much anymore, not when it was him.

“Yeah?”

“Ye-yeah, fuck, honey, I can’t-“ Steve kissed you. Passionate and breath stealing as he held your lips to his like he’d wanted to all day. Your clasped hands hit the counter, the click of your rings together made you whine into his lips when they parted. You let him go, his name loud in the bathroom, echoing against tile and sure to be heard even on the moon as his hips stuttered when you clenched around him. Your stomach burned and your eyes blinked rapidly, sure you weren’t on the planet anymore from the amount of stars you could see as his warmth spilled into you.

It takes a second for you both to come back down to earth, for Steve to laugh, for you to press your hands to your cheeks as you looked down at the mess you’d made of yourselves.

Steve kissed at sweat kissed skin, tenderly cleaning you up as you joked with each other, sleepy eyelids and content smiles. Slow kisses that left you both sighing in between lingering touches that weren’t out of necessity, but just because you wanted to be touching.

Completely in love.

He helped you off of the counter and winced at the way your dress fell down all crinkled and obviously mussed. You shrugged before running a hand though his hair, messing it up even more than you already had, then you untied his tie and let it hang from around his neck saying something about it only being fair.

He grabbed your hand, fingers curled into yours as he kissed your knuckles and led you out of the bathroom.

Robin was the first to slow clap.

Your nose pressed to his shoulder, a groaned god dammit on your lips against his suit jacket.

Then Rocketman was blasted on the speakers, a loud “Annnnnnnd Buckley owes me one hundred dollars!” comes from Eddie at the bar, earning a smack to his chest from his girlfriend, which was nice, until she said “I get fifty of that and you know it.”

And it’s all fine, Steve doesn’t really care, because most of the guests are gone and you’re laughing and heading over to grab pie, flicking Eddie’s ear as you went.

Robin slid up next to Steve, shaking her head. “Wow. I really had faith in you Harrington. A bathroom? On your wedding night? I know you two are animals, but you couldn’t wait to have your wife in, oh, I don’t know, a private bedroom?”

Steve only smiled at the way Nancy handed you a water as you caught peach filling from your lip, while you played with the little ‘S’ dangling between your collarbones with your left hand, the large blue sapphire stone sparkling next to glittering diamonds in the light.

His wife.

For those of you who don't know, Leather and Lace was an Eddie series I started when I first started writing for the fandom. I only posted two chapters, and I just fell out of writing it. It was something I was holding close to me, and I wanted to really tell it right. I've been poking at it a lot lately, and the story has changed so much, and I'd love to share it again soon. But for now, have a little blurb from it tomorrow, and I'd really love to hear what you think. This Eddie is a childhood best friend, an enemy, a stranger, and hopefully, one day, a lover. Okay, anyways, happy voting!

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3

[bitchesuntitled]

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

[yuma-mukami-garden-god]

Adding on to that " Bride turned vampire and bites the diaboys" ask

What do the guys do when their bride who is a newly awakened vampire has bit them before because she was hungry, but now her blood thirst has increased and becomes more intense. She stops asking for their blood just coming up and biting them. She has trouble stopping. And most of all her bites actually hurt. Do they stop her? Let her do it? Etc

Sakamaki Brothers

Shu:

At first, he’s annoyed—“Tch… again?”—but then it turns him on. The pain, the surprise, the desperation in your bite… It wakes something primal in him. He lets you, smirking through the pain. But if you go too far, he’ll slam you down and murmur, “If you want blood so badly, at least be a good girl and beg for it.” Expect lazy dominance laced with subtle sadism.

Reiji:

Immediately not amused. “Unacceptable behavior.” He grips your wrist and forces you off. But part of him is fascinated—you're finally becoming something dangerous. He’ll start training you, punishing you when you lose control but rewarding you when you restrain yourself. “If you insist on biting me, you’ll do so on my terms. Understood?”

Ayato:

He’s cocky until it hurts. “Heh!? Oi, Chichinashi—HEY, THAT ACTUALLY HURT!” But he gets a kick out of you being feral. He’ll let you do it in the moment, maybe pin you afterward, panting and bleeding. “You wanna play vampire, huh? Fine, but don’t think I won’t bite back.” Definitely turns into blood-drunk sex or a dominance fight.

Kanato:

Unstable. At first, he might let you because it’s “romantic,” but the pain makes him shriek. He throws Teddy at you, pushes you away, cries and rages. “HOW DARE YOU HURT ME?! DO YOU LOVE ME OR NOT?!” Then he probably insists you cry and beg for forgiveness before feeding ever again.

Laito:

Absolutely obsessed. “Nfu~ Bitch-chan, you’re finally getting aggressive~!” He lives for the pain. He taunts you mid-bite, holds you close as you shake, maybe even encourages you to go deeper. “Mmm… it hurts, but that’s what love feels like, doesn’t it~?” You’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll start wearing low-cut shirts to tempt you.

Subaru:

Totally panics. The first time you bite hard, he gasps and shoves you away, eyes wide and furious—but not at you, at himself. “D-Damn it! You’re out of control, and I let this happen…” He’ll start avoiding you during your thirst spikes. But if you cry or beg, he eventually gives in, gritting his teeth through the pain, desperate to help you even as it destroys him.

Mukami Brothers

Ruki:

He’s stern but calculated. He lets you bite, but the moment it gets uncontrolled or painful, he pulls your hair back and hisses, “Livestock should never forget who holds the reins.” He’ll make you kneel, force control training on you, and treat you like a dangerous pet who needs discipline—but he won’t reject your hunger. Deep down, he enjoys the struggle.

Kou:

He lets you… at first. “Aw, my little vampire princess is hungry~?” But when it starts hurting, his smile falters. “Y-You’re not playing around anymore, huh…” He gets scared but tries to mask it. Eventually, he starts bribing you: “I’ll let you feed… but only if you do something cute for me first, ‘kay?” He’s walking a fine line between fear and desire.

Yuma:

Grunts, growls, but doesn’t stop you. “Shit… ya really don’t know when to stop, huh?” It hurts, but it also makes him proud. You’re strong. Wild. Like him. Still, if it goes on too long, he’ll physically restrain you and shout, “If you want blood that bad, ya better ask nicely—or fight me for it.”

Azusa:

He's the only one who might… like the pain. “Ah… it hurts… but it’s okay… you need it…” He doesn’t stop you. He might even whisper, “Bite more… take it all…” But if you go too far and make him collapse, he smiles through the blood loss, trembling, “You’re… just like me now…”

Tsukinami Brothers

Shin:

He lives for the danger. “Tch. You’re finally showing your fangs, huh?” He lets you bite—until it starts hurting. Then he slams you against the wall and bites you harder. “You wanna feed like a beast? Then I’ll tame you like one.” Total dominance. You won’t get away with feral hunger unless you earn it.

Carla:

Unimpressed, but intrigued. “How primitive…” He won’t stop you immediately, but he’ll make you pay for every mark you leave. “If you must feed from me, do so elegantly.” He might bind you during bloodlust phases, forcing you to learn control—cold, ruthless discipline wrapped in velvet gloves.

Other Vampires

Kino:

Kino gets a bit terrified at first. “H-Hey! That actually hurts, you psycho!” But then he secretly loves it. It makes him feel wanted. Powerful. Needed. He pretends to be annoyed—calls you “rabid” or “feral”—but he never stops you. Eventually, he might start initiating it himself. “Come on then, monster. Show me how much you need me.”

Karlheinz:

He allows it—every time. “My dear… so thirsty already?” Even when it hurts, he doesn’t flinch. He wants you dependent on him. Addicted. If you ever cry afterward or feel guilty, he just smiles and strokes your cheek. “You were made to drink from me. Don’t resist your nature.”

Richter:

He tries to act annoyed. “Tch. Savage little brat.” But every bite reminds him that you’re his. That no one else gets that close. If it hurts, he grits his teeth and lets you. But one day, he pins you down mid-bite and says, “If you want to play predator, fine. But I’ll show you who owns the kill.”

[luveline]

Hi, I’ve never actually sent a request before so hopefully this is okay, but maybe Hotch’s adult daughter calling him dad for the first time when she’s in trouble or hurt which could also open up an opportunity for Hotch to see her mother for the first time since he found out about her

You’re gonna throw your pants in the trash when you get home. The blouse is a loss —getting blood out of champagne material is a pipe dream. But the pants were unscathed until now. 

“Can you look at me?” 

You lift your pounding head. The EMT cups your cheek, her lips quirked into a deep frown as she raises a small flashlight to your eyes. “Just gonna check your pupils again,” she murmurs, shining the light in your eye. 

Each flash has a heated knife of pain slamming into your brain. You moan in pain and tip your head forward, wanting more than anything to lay down. 

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?” the EMT asks. 

“I want to go to the hospital,” you say. Surely they can fix the carving agony behind your face. 

“I know. As soon as the ruckus upstairs is clear, we’re going to take you there.” 

“I don’t want to sit here.” You grimace at the clammy stone under your legs. The subway is not a good place to touch things. 

“It’ll be over soon. There’s a heavy police presence. You’ll be okay.” 

“Got blood on my shirt,” you mumble. 

“I’m sure someone will wash it for you.” 

“My dad,” you say without thinking. 

If you asked, Aaron would wash the blood from your shirt. He could buy you a whole new wardrobe and he would if you let him, but he would just as happily stand at the sink scrubbing away your stains. 

“Ah, Mr. Hotchner,” the EMT says. “I’ve heard about him, I think we all have. He’s a very important man.” 

“He’s just my dad,” you whisper. 

You’re not really talking to her anymore, the thumping pain behind your eyes a wave you can’t get past. It hurts with every breath. When you hold out your hand, the EMT knows without asking that you’re going to throw up. 

She’s more alarmed after that. “Okay, I’m gonna take you upstairs now, okay? I’m sorry there’s no gurney, but we just have to get to the top of the stairs.” 

Each step sucks. You taste blood and vomit alike on your tongue, the daylight is too bright as you ascend the steps, and the EMT isn’t taking enough of your weight. You moan something incomprehensible even to yourself on the second to last step and cover your eyes, aware of the sirens, the roaring crowds, glass shattering at your feet. 

“Shit,” the EMT says. 

You search for your phone blindly, your hand lost in a pocket full of gum wrappers and tissue. “I don’t have my bag... I want my phone. Need to call my dad.” 

“It’s okay,” she says, giving you an encouraging jostle to look out at the clearing sidewalk. “I can see him.” 

Aaron is speed-walking through the crowd. He’s surrounded by people in Kevlar vests, but he himself wears nothing more than his usual suit and tie. His face changes when he sees you from glaring to a strange flitting panic. 

“Are you all right?” he asks, jogging those last few metres to take you by the elbows. “Sweetheart, are you all right?” 

Your eyes are tired. “Somebody hit me,” you say. 

“I know.” His sympathy is warm, his hand smoothing up your arm as he turns on the spot. “Morgan, can we get better access down this street?” 

One of the Kevlar vests doubles back the way they came. You’re trying to make sense of who you’re seeing, and what’s happening, but the confusion since you got hurt is enthusiastic. You can’t make sense of anything but the splitting pain in your head. 

Aaron’s talking five miles a second and ushering you up those last few steps, a gentleness to his touch that’s absent in his barked commands. 

You’ve never heard him shout like that. You can’t help staring at him. 

“This is an attempted insurrection. The aggression is only going to get worse. JJ, see if you can coordinate with metro PD, make sure there aren’t any other injured civilians in the subway. Dave, I need you to run the operation while I go with her.” 

“Aaron,” you say, watching his frown deepen. 

“Reid, you’re with JJ. Prentiss, I want you to find who laid hands on her–”

“Aaron,” you say again, shocked. 

He gives your arm a placating squeeze. 

“They could still be here.” Everything he says is unarguable. He’s suddenly a monolith, and he’s freaking you out, and you’re no closer to being in the back of the ambulance than you had been ten minutes ago. “Have Garcia pull the security footage–”

“Dad,” you say in a short breath, your hand grasping weakly at his arm. 

He falls silent for a moment. The agent you’re unfamiliar with becomes the man who brings you teddy bears at dinner and sends encouraging missives in the morning. 

“What, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks. Not gentle, but hushed.

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” 

The EMT passes you a paper bag. 

—

You could hear a pin drop in your hospital room. Your broken nose has its own heartbeat, but that’s a feeling, rather than a sound. Aaron hasn’t spoken in a long time, he just sits there with his hand on your arm, waiting for a cue you don’t give. You’re so embarrassed about calling him dad you’ve decided to never speak to him again. 

His hand occasionally comes to life, giving your arm a soft up and down. 

It’s strange to suddenly have a father, but not bad. His paternal caring is a comfort with all the pain, and it doesn’t feel stilted. With Aaron it never has, he found out you were his and he immediately began to act like it, though you suppose you’ll never know how he would’ve loved you as an adult if he’d known you as a child. This feels genuine. Careful, but genuine. 

“Time to take it off,” he says. 

You meet his eyes. 

“The ice pack,” he explains. 

You drop it onto your leg, and he takes it and sets it on the rollover table instead. 

“You can come and stay with me for a few days,” he suggests quietly.

“I’ll be okay.” 

“Your mom’s working. I can take the time off.”

You give him a dubious look. “And then you’ll get called away and it’ll be just me and Haley in the house. That won’t be awkward at all.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re hurt. You’re gonna feel dizzy for at least another day, and that’s not thinking about how hard it’s gonna be to breathe for a while. I’ll stay home, and you can get familiar with my guest room.” 

“You don’t have to look after me.” 

“But I want to.” He holds your wrist. “I know we aren’t a conventional father and daughter…” His brow furrows, and he looks at your hand just below his rather than your face. “I want the chance to look after you. How many times were you sick as a kid? Hundreds of times. Mostly colds, a runny nose. Maybe you– maybe you broke your arm, I don’t know. But I wish I did. I owe it to you to take care of you now.” 

You give him a small smile as he raises his head. 

“Just think about it,” he says, “we’ll be here all night anyways.” 

“You can go home.” 

“Don’t be difficult,” he says, his sincerity swapped for teasing as he stand. “I have to go find you something to eat.”

He stoops to give you a warm hug across your shoulders. You should want it to be over quickly, you smell like blood and sick and sweat, your clothes are ruined, and you’re not used to him seeing you like this, but let the feeling of his hand on your back persuade you into closing your sore eyes. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Okay. I need to do a lap before your mother gets here anyhow. I might… be more unkind than I plan on being, otherwise.” 

You laugh at his half-joke and hurt your face. He is very sorry. 

[alyswritings]

Panic Attack

Request: Could u possibly do a jj maybank and sister has a really bad panic attack and jj just helps her through it and is really sweet? Thanks, love your writings 💜💜

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: JJ helps his sister with a panic attack.

Warnings: panic attacks, anxiety, luke yelling

a/n: thanks for the request! hope you all enjoy! also if you want/don't want to be tagged, lmk! unrelated, i am in love with his dimple.

(gif not mine)

Y/N races to JJ's room once she's certain he's in there after encountering Luke. She shuts and locks the door, the boy sitting on his bed, hands buried in his hair as he silently fumes.

"You're both useless pieces of shit! Your mama knew it! I know it! Your stupid friends know it!" Luke shouts over the blaring rock music.

Luke pounds on the door making Y/N jump, letting a small whimper out. She stumbles away from the door as he continues to hit the door. She quickly sits on the floor, curling up into a ball as she feels her breathing pick up and her hands start shaking.

Luke continues to shout insults and crude words, JJ fighting every urge to go out and fight back. He hears a quiet sob, his head snapping over to his sister.

"Y/N." He mumbles, rushing over to her. "Hey, hey." He sits in front of her. Y/N shakes her head, tears racing down her face as she gasps for air. "Y/N, hey, look at me." JJ cups the sides of her head, forcing her to face him. "Look at me, I'm right here. Follow my breathing." He slowly breathes in, waiting for her to attempt it. He lets out the breath, Y/N struggling to copy him.

They repeat a few times, Y/N still struggling, but getting better after a few more attempts.

"There we go, kiddo. We're gettin' there." JJ says, continuing to encourage her. "It's okay."

Y/N gets a deep breath in before Luke slams on the door again causing the girl to sob, the progress going down the drain.

"No, no, hey, hey. Keep breathing. Keep breathing, Y/N/N." JJ encourages, Y/N trying to follow his instructions. "I'm right here. Focus on me, okay? Don't listen to him." JJ slides his hands so his palms cover her ears, hoping to block their father out.

JJ kisses her on the forehead, quietly repeating reassurances to her.

After a while, she gets her lungs to work, taking slow, long breaths.

"There we go." JJ coos. "Great job, kid. C'mere." He pulls her into a tight hug. "You're okay. It's okay. He can't get us." Y/N sniffles, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I got you. Just you and me."

"What if he breaks the door?" Y/N mumbles, her words muffled from his shirt.

"Not gonna happen." JJ assures. "Come on. We can sneak out and go to the chateau, okay? Go fishing or something? Or just take a nap if you want. Sound good?" Y/N sniffles and nods, rubbing her nose. "Okay. Come on." He kisses her on the head before getting up and getting his stuff.

JJ quietly opens his window, climbing out. He helps Y/N out and then shuts the window.

"Let's go." He whispers, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to his motorcycle. "Here. Wear this." He gives her the helmet that only she ever wears -- despite her constant worries for him to wear it.

Y/N doesn't argue as she puts the helmet on her head, buckling the straps underneath her chin. She climbs on after him, tightly holding onto him as he speeds away.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313

[girlgenius1111]

I'll Make It Through The Winter If It Kills Me

putellas!reader stops taking her antidepressants because she doesn't think she needs them anymore, keeps it from alexia, but she eventually finds out. super angsty, but fluff follows. warnings: mentions of self harm.

-----

You weren't stupid; you didn't think you knew better than your doctor. You were just so tired of everything feeling so... dull. Feeling so empty, even when things were good. Even when they were bad. It felt like your emotions were in sight, but just out of reach. Like you could graze them with your fingertips, the sharp sting of anger, the thrill of excitement. No matter what you did, though, you couldn’t get your hands around them. You couldn’t make the feelings stay. You weren’t sure you’d know what normal felt like if it hit you across the face, and no matter what you told your doctor, she kept encouraging you to give the meds a longer chance. 

It wasn’t really intentional on your part, to stop taking them. It just…happened. You missed one day. And then another. And then it had been a week, and even though your head ached, and you had a bit of a hard time sleeping, you felt… better. Not great, not really even good, but better. More like yourself. 

That lasted another week, before suddenly, you were back where you started. The joy you’d rediscovered in living faded away, plunging you back into a cave of misery. It wasn’t numbed now, either. It was encapsulating, suffocating. You weren’t okay, not at all. You didn’t know what to do, though. You didn’t want to go back on the medication, and you knew you wouldn’t survive if you kept going like this. You told yourself that you just had to let your body get used to the lack of the medication, and once it adjusted, you’d feel normal again. You’d been high, and now you were low, and the next step had to be a middle ground. The trouble was keeping yourself going until you got there, as well as keeping your sister off your back.

You hadn’t meant to start hurting yourself again, either. It just happened, it was just the coping mechanism you turned to. It was just supposed to be temporary, until everything balanced out and you felt normal again. It kept going, though, you kept going. Until you had to be careful about changing in the locker room, and you couldn’t go a day without doing it. It was the only thing that made you feel, the only thing that made it better. You just needed time. That was it. Just time. 

-----

“Wake up pequeña, I am not going to come in here again.” Alexia said with a sigh, poking her head in your door to find you still very asleep in bed. You both knew she’d be back in 5 minutes, ready to drag you out by your ankles, but you grumbled a response and sat up. You’d only gotten to sleep a few hours ago; sleep had evaded you, even as you felt more exhausted than you’d ever been in your life. It was just an adjustment, you, told yourself. Everything would even out. 

“If I come in there and you’re still asleep, so help me,” Alexia shouted from the hall, before throwing your door open rather aggressively. You turned to look at her blankly, wrapped up in your duvet, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your sister paused, taking a closer look at your face. 

“Do you feel okay? Are you getting sick?” She asked, entering the room and pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. You shook her off, discarding the duvet behind you and moving with as much energy as you could muster over to your dresser. 

“No, just sleepy.” You answered shortly, and Alexia narrowed her eyes at you. 

“You look sick.” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest in a rather intimidating manner. 

“Thank you.” You replied sarcastically. “Now get out, you’re going to make me late.” 

Alexia scoffed indignantly, but walked to the door regardless. “I’M going to make you late. Me. You lay in bed till the last minute, and it’s MY fault.” She mumbled, shutting the door behind her a little harder than necessary. 

She wasn’t really that bothered, but she did dramatically complain about you to Olga once she reached the kitchen. Olga, however, didn’t quite share her exasperation with you and your inability to get up on time. Instead, she saw this as cause for concern: you hadn’t been this hard to wake up since before. When things were bad, and they didn’t know. Looking back, the signs were obvious, and Olga wasn’t about to miss them again. Or let her rather emotionally oblivious girlfriend do so either. 

“Ale. She’s been sleeping a lot recently, no?” Olga asked quietly, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand to get her attention. 

Alexia looked up from the coffee she was making for you, turning to the brunette in confusion. “I haven’t noticed. She’s hard to wake up sometimes, that’s all.” 

Olga restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Sometimes, she wondered if Alexia really was oblivious, or if she was just in denial. 

“Not like this. The last time she slept this much, she wasn’t doing well, remember?” 

Alexia turned back to your coffee, stirring absentmindedly, lost in thought. 

“You think she’s having a hard time?” She asked finally. 

Olga shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s been acting a little off recently. It could be nothing though.”

“But it could be something?” Alexia replied. She was never so aware of her shortcomings as a sister than when Olga saw something she didn’t. That was the good thing about being with someone who was so different from her, though. Olga was there to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks with you, a role she’d taken on without a second thought when you moved in.

Olga didn’t have a chance to reply, because you made your way into the kitchen, reaching instantly for the coffee Alexia was making, one you knew was for you. Ale always got up a bit early to make her and Olga coffee, climbing back into bed and drinking it there. 

Alexia handed you the coffee silently, and if you noticed that her eyes lingered on you longer than normal, you didn’t say anything about it. 

-----

It wasn’t accidental that Alexia had the two of you sharing a room over the next away trip. Ever since her conversation with Olga, she’d been keeping a closer eye on you, and she wasn’t loving what she was seeing. Normally, she’d pawn you off on one of your younger teammates over away games, needing time with her friends, and knowing you needed time with yours. Now, though, her overprotective instincts were kicking in and she didn’t trust anyone but herself to keep an eye on you. 

Alexia noticed that you put on a good show, but when people weren’t looking… you looked so desperately sad that your sister longed to drag you away from the group by your ear and pry whatever the problem was out of you. She didn’t, though. Olga had given her a harsh warning before leaving, as did Alba, that you wouldn’t respond well to being cornered, to being forced to talk. You needed to come to her. So while Alexia kept you very close, she made an effort to remind you that she was there, whatever you needed. 

The first real, tangible, issue that Alexia figured out was that you weren’t sleeping. She’d passed out before you, as expected, but when she stirred a couple hours later to the sound of you sniffling quietly from your bed, she was immediately wide awake. 

You were so tired. Nothing you were trying was working, you just couldn’t sleep. It felt pathetic to be crying, but you were exhausted, you had a match tomorrow, and you just wanted your brain to turn off, even if it was only for a bit. You were trying to keep the volume down, though, because Alexia was famously a light sleeper, and her bed was only a few feet from yours. 

Your efforts proved unsuccessful when Alexia sat up in her bed, flicking the light on. She squinted over at you, finding you curled up on your side, furiously wiping at the tears on your face, horrified at being caught. 

You were expecting 20 questions from your sister. She liked to fix things, and this situation would definitely be something that worried her. Alexia surprised you though. 

Even though there were 20 questions on the tip of her tongue, she remembered both her girlfriend and her other sister’s warnings not to push you. Instead of pestering you like she wanted, she flicked the light back off, sliding out of her bed and gently nudging you over until she could slide onto the edge of yours. 

“Ale, what-?” 

“Shh.” Alexia whispered, scooching closer and cuddling up to you like she used to do when you were little, and wanted nothing more than her affection. If Alexia was feeling particularly nice, she’d let you curl up against her while the family watched a movie, or while she finished her homework. “You can’t sleep?” 

You wondered how she knew. Sometimes, Alexia could be completely dense when it came to your feelings. Other times, though, she was incredibly perceptive.  “No.” 

Your sister’s presence next to you, though, was already helping, and you felt your eyes drooping as you rested your head against her chest. 

“Do you want me to sing you a song?” Alexia teased. 

You appreciated that she wasn’t forcing a conversation now, more than you could articulate. 

“No, I think my ears bleeding would keep me up more.” You replied, laughing quietly when your sister huffed indignantly, shoving you away from her, before very quickly pulling you back into her arms.

“You like my singing, I’m a good singer.” She retorted, even as she tucked you back under her chin. “Really, nena, how can I help?” 

“Stop talking.” You murmured groggily, cuddling in closer to your sister. Alexia smiled against your head, but stopped talking, rather proud of herself for solving this problem for you, even if it was just temporarily. Even if it was just a symptom of a much bigger problem. 

You slept that night, without waking up, for the first time in a while. You tried not to let yourself think about the fact that if Alexia fixed this problem, she might be able to help you, just in general, if only you’d talk to her. 

-----

Alexia hadn’t meant to snoop. She’d done you a favor, picking up your new prescription, and she was just putting it on your nightstand. Was it possible that she opened the drawer and peeked at your old bottle? Maybe. She was glad she did it, though. Because she found it full. And everything suddenly made a lot more sense. 

-----

"Pequeña?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is this full?" Alexia asked calmly, holding up the little pill bottle and giving it a shake.

"That's- that's my new bottle." You replied, looking away from her accusatory stare.

Alexia shook her head. "No, this is your new bottle. I picked it up for you today." She held up a little bag from the pharmacy, and your stomach sank. Your sister would not like this, not at all. She wouldn't like you doing something so unhealthy, and she wouldn't like you lying about it. There was nothing you could say, she'd caught you.

"Nena, I asked you a question." Strict Alexia was making an appearance, and you kept your eyes locked on the ground in front of you. "Hey. Don't shut down on me. What's going on?" She walked closer, arms crossed over her chest.

"I stopped taking them." You said finally, looking up in time to see your sister sigh heavily, and run a hand over her suddenly very fatigued face.

"Why?"

"I just did." You told her.

"That's not good enough. This is why you've been so anxious recently? So depressed?"

You shrugged noncommittally. Alexia was silent for a minute, before her expression changed, face tightened. You knew what was coming before she asked.

"Roll up your shorts." It's given as a command, not as a request, and you backed up on instinct. "Nena,"

"No. I'm an adult, Alexia. I can make my own decisions."

Alexia regarded you carefully, her eyebrows pinched with concern. "Roll up your shorts, please. I won't ask again."

You hated when Alexia got like this. You knew she wasn't really as angry with you as she seemed, she was worried. It just felt so much like you were in trouble. Maybe because you knew you were doing something you shouldn't be. Alexia's worry always manifested as frustration, anger. Maybe because for her, she was angry with herself, for not seeing a problem sooner.

"Alexia, I said no." You turned away from her, stomping towards your room.

"Nena, come back." Alexia demanded, going after you when you didn't respond. She reached your door just as you shut it and locked it, and Alexia felt a spike of panic run through her. Your behavior over the past few weeks was beginning to make more sense and, honestly, she didn't know what headspace you were in, how deeply the lack of the medication was affecting you. If you were back to doing this, it could be bad. Alexia knew she wasn't the expert in helping you with this, but she did know that, right now, she was not comfortable with a locked door in between the two of you.

"Nena, open the door." She fiddled with the knob, even as it wouldn't budge. "I'm being serious, open the door. Now."

You weren't really hearing her. You were thinking about how disappointed she must be in you. She'd been horrified to find out that you'd been doing this to yourself the first time, almost a year ago now. She'd yelled, and you'd run out of the house, all the way to Mapi's. You'd sat on the terrace with Ingrid, talking about everything and nothing, while Mapi gave your sister a piece of her mind. You were sick, she'd told the blonde. You needed support. You weren't doing it for attention. Alexia needed to do better.

And she had. She'd apologized for yelling. She'd gone with you to every therapy appointment for two months, knowing how nervous they made you. She sat outside the room, answering emails or looking at her phone, just in case you needed her. She supported you, wholeheartedly, when you took a few weeks off from the team to focus on your mental health, as you got your medication figured out. You weren't good at communicating your needs to your sister, and she wasn't good at reading your mind, but somehow, it worked.

Repetitive pounding on the door broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked towards the door, half expecting to see your sister's fist emerging through the wood.

"Nena, open. Now, por favor." Alexia begged.

Your anger with yourself only grew. Your sister sounded close to tears and it was all your fault. All your fault. Shakily, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the door, unlocking it. Alexia practically fell into the room, head swiveling frantically as she looked for you. Your eyes dropped to the ground again, and you looked so small, so very shattered.

Alexia knocked the wind out of you a little with the force of her hug, squishing you into her arms and holding you tight against her chest. "You can't do that, you can't lock the door. Not right now, not when I don't know what's going on with you. Please, pequeña, I won't make you talk to me, just don't lock the door." She was pleading with you, and you'd never heard your normally very calm and collected sister so panicked. 

Maybe it was the pleading that got to you, or maybe you were just so tired of pretending to be okay. Either way, words you never thought you’d say out loud were spilling from your mouth before you could stop them. 

“I’m scared, Ale. I don’t have control anymore, I thought I did, but I don’t, and I’m scared. I’m so tired, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Please help me, I need you to help me,” you sobbed, the admission feeling both terrifying and relieving all at once. At least the responsibility wasn’t on you anymore. Alexia would take care of you, take care of this. 

“Okay, okay, nena. It’s all going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll get you help, we’ll get you whatever you need. Whatever it takes. I love you so much, pequeña, we’ll get you better, I promise.” 

Alexia kept you wrapped up tight in her arms for a while, and it only reassured you more. As long as she had you, nothing would happen. She wouldn’t let anything happen. While your sister was around, you would be safe. Even if she was keeping you safe from yourself, she’d do it, no matter what. 

-----

me: you need to stop making everything have a part 2. just make a longer one shot. 

also me: let me know what you want to see in part 2 🙂🙂

[shirefantasies]

Thorin’s Company When You Tell Them the Legend of Brísingamen (F!Reader)

Tagging @welikeimagines-andfandoms for the idea inspiration, thanks love 😉 Warnings: suggestive of course given the nature of this legend 😂 but no explicit acts described

"In my world, dwarves are but the stuff of legend," you told your company, all rapt at your words and the sight of your features flickering in the fireglow as they rose into a little smirk, "In fact, one of my favorite legends involves a group of dwarves." "Well, go on, then!" Gloin encouraged. "Tell us!" "Yeah," Ori agreed, eyes shining, "What are you waiting for?" "Dramatic effect," you teased with a grin, "But I shall tell you the legend of Brísingamen. Known as the necklace of flame, Brísingamen was the most beautiful piece of jewelry in the world." "Crafted by dwarves no doubt!" Bombur chimed in. "Of course," you nodded, smiling softly, "Four dwarves forged it: Alfrik, Berling, Grer, and Dvalin." "Sounds a lot like..." Nori teased, elbowing Dwalin. "Indeed!" You agreed, nodding the tattooed dwarf's way. "Maybe it's a relative, huh? Well, Brísingamen was not just beautiful, but magical! Its protective magic attracted the goddess Freya, who offered to purchase it with great riches of silver and gold. The dwarves, however, had no need for her treasure. Rather they offered a different form of payment: they would give her the necklace if she was willing to spend a night with each of them." "They didn't!" Nori burst out, smiling devilishly. "Well," Balin countered, "Even if they did, it doesn't mean-" "And that, my friends," you cut him off with a wicked grin of your own, "Is the story of how Freya acquired Brísingamen." Uproar overtook the camp, shouts of triumph, applause, laughter, outrage, shock from Bilbo, and you loved every minute of it. One particular reaction stood out to you, however....

Balin

"Ah, lass," Balin teased you, shaking his head, "What've you gone and filled their heads with now?" "Old stories," you answered with a shrug and a look of mock-innocence, "Myths, really. Tales I thought they might get a kick out of." "A little too much of a kick, I daresay," Balin replied, nodding toward Nori, who looked you up and down with a smile. "I'm not so easily bought as Freya," you told him, "I would give myself only to the one who has my heart." At that, Balin arched a bushy white brow. "And who might that be?" Involuntarily your jaw dropped at his question, eyes staring into his as anew. "You mean you do not know?" “You mean you want me like I want you? How?” Balin’s brown eyes shone so sincerely your heart all but broke, save for a select phrase that played over and over again, turning your fluttering heart back over and curling your lips back into a grin. “It wasn’t only their heads I filled with ideas, was it?”

Dwalin

Shaking his head, Dwalin gave a little snort. "All that over a necklace." Dropping back down onto the log at his side, shifting on its rough surface, you gave him a teasing smile. "You wouldn't do it, then?" Rather than a verbal answer, the dwarf gave you an exasperated glare you laughed heartily at. "Would you?" He asked in gruff incredulity. "Four's a lot to handle," you joked, "Even if it's not at a time. Think I'd just pick my favorite and go with that." "Oh, you've favorites, then?" "I quite liked one of them. What was his name again?" Putting a finger to your chin, you kept teasing. "It was very familiar." "What makes you think he'd spend the night with you?" "I can be very persuasive," you replied, lowering your voice and leaning closer, your nose almost brushing his. "He's going to need you to persuade him a little harder than that." "That can be arranged," you told the tattooed dwarf, a hand falling to his knee as you planned to make him ever regret asking.

Thorin

“What was the point of you telling that story?” Thorin. Off to the side, not sitting down, hands folded at his back. Serious. Of course. “Just for a bit of fun,” you told him with a shrug. “Fun? Is that what you want with us? All of us to-” “Skies above, Thorin,” you waved both hands defensively, “Is that what you think of me? I only told it because I knew they would like it. I want to help you, you know. I care about you.” At that, the king-to-be shook his head, some black locks loosening and falling to his shoulder with the motion. “You’re right. That was unfair and I am sorry,” he apologized, blue eyes wavering from yours, “I don’t know what came over me, I just-” Something flashed in those fierce icy eyes as he trailed off, something that had your lips quirking upward. “Wait, were you…jealous?” A full grin graced your face, teasingly glinting at Thorin. “You didn’t like the thought of me spending the night with all the others, did you?” The dwarf shook his head at that, but you caught the smallest of smiles playing upon his face as he did so. “See? I got a smile out of you!” “You simply never cease to surprise me,” Thorin told you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Oin

"Did I hear that right?" "You sure did," you told him, elbowing him as you settled against his side, the warmth of the healer's coat. "Well, aren't ye a saucy lass?" He laughed heartily. "What was that Freya thinking?" Shrugging, you told him, "I don't think it was her idea. Remember, those naughty dwarves would not accept her treasures.” “I would say they did!” Oin burst out into another laugh, putting his hands up. “But I guess you caught me there. We know how to have a little fun, us dwarvenkind!” “Do you now?” You asked, leaning forward with your chin resting on your fist. For all his hearing difficulties, Oin didn’t miss a beat that time. “Come to the healer’s tent for a little checkup and I daresay you’ll find out.”

Gloin

Gloin had laughed with the rest of them, but now he was snorting to himself. Taking a seat at his side, you asked him what that was about. “So they denied the treasure of a goddess? Bloody fools those dwarves were!” Hands on your hips, you leaned in closer to frown right at Gloin. “Some romantic you are!” “I don’t think romance had anything to do with it,” he pointed out with a sardonic smile, “But if it did? Oh, I would give every jewel, every coin in the kingdom to be with my One for but an hour! Time like that shines brighter than all the wealth of the mines!” Lips parting wordlessly, you stared at the auburn-haired dwarf, blinking once, twice. “Well, how’d I do?” He asked with a grin, resting a gloved hand gently upon your knee. “Enough romance for you?” You licked your lips and nodded, prompting him to connect the space between your lips. “Good,” he said in a low voice as you separated, “That story gave me a couple ideas. Four nights and all. I don’t fancy sharin’, though.”

Bifur

Chuckling to yourself, you made to look for a seat, noticing many members of the company parting rapidly to make room for you but choosing the spot next to Bifur, who smiled at you as he whittled. "Did you like that story?" You turned and asked him. Looking up for just a moment from the round shape he was carving, Bifur nodded eagerly, smiling at you beneath his braided mustache. Chuckling, you just settled in, your arm resting against his. "Well, good." Sparing glances at his whittling between other conversation, you caught a series of interconnected shapes and finally inquired as to his creation. "What are you making?" What he said you could not understand, but the small series of connected circles were held above his head and down, pantomiming draping it around his neck. "Is that... a necklace?" Gaze opening even bigger, you smiled wide and wicked into Bifur's hazel eyes. Lips quirking upward, he nodded and made to hand it to you before playfully yanking it away. What could you say? He knew what he wanted.

Bofur

“Well, well, well!” A weight and a warmth settled at your side after you’d selected a seat, one conveniently without any of the neighbors eagerly waving you over. Just the one you’d been hoping for, in fact, the sight of Bofur next to you with eager eyes and raised eyebrows brought a smile to your face. “You can’t go running off after a story like that!” “Where would you have me go, then,” you asked, “My dear Bofur?” “If I’m being honest, to bed with me, but I haven’t a single pretty thing to offer you. Just my toys and my trusty hat.” His words were joking, but his voice was almost…sad? “You think I want all that? I’m no goddess, Bofur,” you replied, “I like my campfires and saucy tales. I like a good night with someone I care about. And most of all, I love your toys and your hat.” “Really?” He leaned forward, hands gripping the log at his sides as he grinned, eyes darting this way and that over you.” “Really,” you answered, “Now are you going to kiss me or do I have to?”

Bombur

Bombur addressed you softly as you settled at his side, accepting him as your neighbor due to him being one of the few you trusted after a tale like that. Not to mention him being the most comfortable one or how sweet he was. Sure enough, his voice was as warm as ever, but gentler as he asked you, “Those dwarves must’ve been pretty dashing, eh?” “Something like that,” you answered, eyes sliding away from his teasingly. “What d’you suppose they might’ve looked like?” “Oh, great beards for sure,” you told him, “No doubt about that. I like to imagine them with fiery hair but hearts that burn with a much more tender light.” “That the kind of dwarf you could spend the night with?” Bombur asked, hazel eyes glowing with hope. “Indeed,” you answered with a smile, “I think I could.”

Dori

"So she really went through with it?" Glancing up from the steam curling out of your tin cup into Dori's blue eyes, you shrugged. "According to the old tale." Nose wrinkling, the dwarf sat next to you, careful not to disturb his own warm mug. "That's disgusting! Where is the respect?" The dwarves' for Freya or Freya for herself you were unsure; either way your reply was the same. "They offered, she accepted," you answered with a shrug before gazing back up at him, eyes sliding over the flutter of his lashes as he took a sip of evening tea, his lips gripping the mug's edge, "And besides, maybe she had just been waiting for an excuse to be with one of them." At that, Dori lowered his drink and fixed you with an intent look. "What are you saying? Do you mean to imply that-” “Yes,” you cut him off, “Yes, I am.” “I don’t have any necklaces,” Dori told you, raising a hand almost defensively. “But what,” you asked him, pushing the mug in his other hand gently down below his face, “Might you do if you had?” “I- I don't suppose I would need it that badly. If- if you liked it.” Eyes darting rapidly to your lips, Dori gave you his full attention.

Nori

"Nice night, isn't it, Freya? Oops, I mean-" Covering his mouth with his hand, Nori feigned innocence and correcting to your name, eyes sliding very deliberately to yours. "What's this?" You shot back, crossing your arms. "Are we dreaming again?" "Come on," Nori procured and swigged from his hip flask, an arm thrown casually over the rock at his back, "You can't deny there was some, shall we say, subliminal messaging in your little faery story there?" “Perhaps you were just projecting,” you countered, lowering into the seat at his side. “Twasn’t I who felt the need to tell us all about some lass ‘n her love of all things dwarfkind. And I do mean all things.” He added, punctuating his statement with a wink. “Are you trying to convince me your folk have some tricks up their sleeves?” "Not exactly up our sleeves." "For Mahal's sake," Gloin called out, "I'll give you the bloody jewels myself if you two just throw a blanket out in the woods and get this over with yourselves!" At that, Nori simply cast out an arm like a humble servant, although his expression could only be described as that of an eager housecat when you smiled back at him.

Ori

Twas Ori that came to you, taking you by surprise at his look of eager questioning. "So when you say Freya spent the night with them, you mean she..." He didn't need to go any further; you simply nodded as he trailed shyly off, brown eyes drifting down to the earth. "As the legend goes." "Those aren't real dwarves!" He replied, knitted gloved hands curling into fists as he looked back up. "Real dwarves would respect a lady far more than that! They would offer her gems in gratitude and celebration of one so fair." All teasing melted from your face in favor of a wide, soft smile. "Oh, Ori, any lady would be lucky to have you by her side. You're a gem in and of yourself." "You really think so?" He beamed. "I know so," you answered with a nod. "Wh- When we get to Erebor, I’m going to find you the biggest jewel I can get my hands on!” Ori burst out, hastily amending it. “Besides the Arkenstone, of course. Thorin would get jealous seeing how much prettier you are.” His earnest tone had your heart fluttering, let alone the way he smiled at you. "Well, then it is I who is luckiest."

Fili

“I would not be so confident, brother. Isn’t that right?” You’d hardly been listening until you heard Fili address you by name, head snapping up the blonde prince’s way instantly. “What was that?” “See? She ignored you,” Fili quipped to his brother before facing you again. They’d both been sitting casually by the fire, legs thrown apart and boots resting slightly raised on rocks or other forest debris as they conversed. The moment you chimed in, though, the brothers leaned forward with their full attention focused on you. “When we arrive at the Lonely Mountain, we’ll both be picking something out for you,” Fili continued. He couldn’t mean…. “Well… thank you?” You answered, hesitating slightly. Every trace of hesitation, however, melted away when the prince added the next comment. “Necklaces. Unless you’d prefer a ring?” “Necklaces are fine by me,” you answered, fully confident in your understanding, “But aren’t you a little bold assuming I’ll want two?” “That,” Fili replied without a moment’s hesitation, grey eyes glinting, “Is why you’ll have to choose.” “Don’t worry, my gems will be a much more impressive cut! Just as you might expect,” Kili chimed in. “But mine will shine much brighter,” Fili retorted, turning back to you, “What do you say?”

Kili

"Oh," Kili spoke your name, "Just wait until we reach the Lonely Mountain, you'll see." "See what?" You asked, raising a brow at the eager-faced dwarf prince. "How much bigger our jewels are. Much bigger than any Bringer-Men." "Brísingamen," you corrected with a laugh, shaking your head at Kili's excitement. "You'll see. When the light strikes them just right, they shine like the very stars in the sky. No, brighter still. They shine almost as bright as your eyes.” Feeling a flush rise to your cheeks, you frown slightly at the black-haired prince. “What is all this?” “I’m saying if you want a necklace, I can find you one,” Kili replies in a low voice. “Oh,” you answer, smirking, “It better be the biggest one you can find.” "You know that's what I have waiting for you: the biggest one you can find." He was proud of that one. You could tell. All you could do was smile widely and shake your head... At least, that was, until Fili approached you. "Oy, bugger off," Kili called, "She's already getting a necklace from me!" "Not if I get one first." "Who says? I'm faster. Mine'll be bigger!" "Says who?" "Says Kili," you chimed in with a smirk. "See? She wants one from me!" You could have chimed in with the reminder that you were not the goddess Freya, but watching the brotherly spat complete with a budding slap fight was too entertaining. Sitting back with satisfaction, your eyes darted over the metaphorical carnage, the only thoughts in your head being of how flattered you were as the subject of the princes' fight.

Bilbo

"So," Bilbo started awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "All those dwarves, eh?" "For Freya, I suppose," you replied, shrugging and taking up the stick to stoke the fire before looking back up at the hobbit, "I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It was just a bit of fun for all them. I knew they'd all have a laugh." "No, no, it was good," Bilbo shook his head and put up his hands, an aura still as tense and searching stretched across his sweet, warm features, "Very- very funny. I especially liked the way you told it. Riveting. You really are good at it, you know. Storytelling." "You heard all that and the foremost thing you got," you asked, "Was me?" "Well," Bilbo fidgeted, hands wringing as the trees suddenly got very fascinating, "I just couldn't stop thinking about- That is, I suppose I was wondering if you told them that in hopes that they would, you know. Want to... act it out. And I have no doubt they would." Bubbling up from your chest before you could stop it was a laugh, one great and high and sharp laugh of pure disbelief. "Well, perhaps they would, but you wouldn’t catch me taking them up on it in an age! None of them are exactly my sort,” you replied. “And here I thought you were thick as thieves! If you don’t mind my asking,” Bilbo inquired, pulling his pipe from a pocket within the folds of his coat, “What is your sort, then?” “Are hobbits good craftsmen?” You asked in response, leaning forward with another grin.

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