#and not that she would want to anyways - hes just very stubborn and it might be easier to get commands through than to change karos mind

[bayjaruchel]

Underneath The Strobe Light

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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023

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You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces. 

You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie. 

He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically. 

You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined. 

However— needing and wanting are two very different things. 

And you want. So, so much. 

Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch. 

You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel. 

World News Now? 

Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences. 

Yeah, no. 

You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way. 

It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway. 

Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips. 

It couldn't be anyone else. 

About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly. 

The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest. 

"Hey," you offer. 

"Hi," he obliges. 

You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?" 

It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes. 

"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest." 

"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls." 

He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously." 

"And yet … " 

"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine." 

"Fine?" 

"Fine." 

You don't want to let the silence set in. 

"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay." 

"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you." 

"Asshole." 

"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?" 

His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too." 

"Oh, really?" 

Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor." 

"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later." 

He's almost cheeky when he speaks. 

"It's life-changing." 

You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict." 

Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?" 

"Pretty much, yeah." 

"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—" 

"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—" 

"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder." 

You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.  

After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh. 

"It's getting really late." 

You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?" 

"Are you gonna head home?" 

Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like— 

—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you. 

"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—" 

"It's not." 

He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city. 

"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual." 

"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring. 

"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual." 

You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before: 

"Why don't you stay?"  

Your own breath stutters in your chest. 

"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself. 

"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't." 

His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—" 

"Why are you here, anyway?" 

The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—" 

"It's not!" You exclaim. 

Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice. 

"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—" 

You stop yourself. 

"And you what?" Mike asks, gently. 

Might as well, huh? 

"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead. 

There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes. 

Then: 

He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense. 

"Feeling's mutual," he mutters. 

Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less. 

"Yeah?" You dare to ask. 

Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes. 

"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him. 

You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor. 

You reach out. 

He lets you lace your fingers through his. 

Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should. 

You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely. 

"... Can I?" 

His reply is almost instantaneous. 

"Please."  

You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead. 

He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit! 

His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere. 

You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you. 

However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise. 

It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips. 

He moans.  

You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part. 

"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—" 

"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay." 

You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more. 

So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his. 

Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone. 

You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans. 

"Should I—" 

"Yeah—" 

With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least. 

All you want to do is keep going. 

You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt. 

"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—" 

"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?" 

  "Yes —" 

"You want me to take 'em off?" 

Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure. 

He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down. 

"Go on," you encourage. 

He helps you move so he has easier access, and—  

His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.

"Look what you did to me," you murmur. 

He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you. 

Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—   

Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you. 

"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—" 

"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs. 

  "Mike —" 

He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position. 

"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"  

"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—" 

"Oh —" 

The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied. 

Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—

Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you. 

Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down. 

You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand— 

"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist. 

"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you. 

"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now. 

You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck. 

When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity. 

"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck." 

You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut— 

"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts—  you swear you hear him whimper .  His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth. 

True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him. 

He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "  

"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum." 

Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him. 

He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down. 

Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face. 

"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on." 

"Yeah, okay." 

When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail. 

The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head. 

"Thank you," he mumbles. 

You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet. 

"For what?" 

"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess." 

The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile. 

"You're welcome." 

He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep. 

[fbfh]

rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs 2

wc: 1.7k

genre: mutual pining, minor angst

pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: houseparty, madison and heather aren't very good friends, one brief mention of alcohol/underage drinking but no one is obviously drunk, Brent keeps flirting with you and can't take a hint but it's annoying and inconvenient at most, minor miscommunication, sad roddy at the end

summary: after getting all dolled up for your party (which is really just an excuse to see rodrick and his band play) you spend the whole night not getting to do the one thing you want to do - see Rodrick.

song rec: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, and I imagine them playing put your money on me - the struts, basket case - green day, and of course, diper overlode - loded diper at the party

a/n: the long awaited part 2 is here!! and yes there will be a part 3 that takes place at prom lol

tags at the bottom (tagging all the people who asked for part 2 as well lol)

You’ve spent all week planning your party

Now it’s finally friday after school, and Heather and Madison are at your place, taking on the monumental task of deciding what you’re going to wear

You decide on the new pair of heels you got as your inspiration piece

They’re baby pink and strappy, with a butterfly shape made of little diamonds on the front

You’ve been absolutely obsessed with them, and the party seems like the perfect opportunity to break them in

You dig around in your closet, pulling a few of your other pink dresses

It’s not much of a contest when you see them laid out, and you choose the light pink satin one to go with your shoes

You listen to Heather and Madison gossip while you dig through your jewelry and nail polish, finding some coordinating accessories and your next mani pedi color

“Which earrings?” You ask them, holding up two pairs. 

“That one.” They say in unison, pointing to the one on your left

You were leaning toward that pair anyway, so you’re glad they agree

After finalizing some details and going over what they’re going to wear, all your party outfits are planned

Heather and Madison leave to get dressed, promising to be back within the hour so you can all help each other with hair and makeup

You’ve  practically become their personal beauty guru since you became friends

You always know just what to do to make their makeup look flawless and their hair cooperate when it’s being stubborn

You’re a big ball of nerves while you get the last details set up

Snacks are laid out, drinks are set up

Now all you need is the people

And more importantly

The band

As people show up, Heather drags you around to socialize

You swear, she must make you say hi to every single person there

If you were a little more cynical, you might pick up on the fact that Heather is trying to keep you away from Rodrick

Rodrick, who you’ve been thinking about non stop since you first saw him

You spend the whole time looking around for him and his band 

You think you see him across the room once, but it’s a girl with a dark brown pixie cut

It’s hard to tell in this lighting, and you’re glad you caught it before you made a really awkward mistake

You’re sure it would have been a funny anecdote that lead to you being friends after

On your way back, you get stopped by Brad

He insists on pulling you aside to talk, which Heather and Madison encourage

But right now all you want is to find Rodrick

And all Rodrick wants is to find you

They’re almost warmed up and ready for their set

And GOD he’s never been more excited for a gig

He’s so ready to go all out

To impress you

And to avoid all Justin Bieber songs to prevent another Heather’s sweet 16 incident

He fidgets with his drumsticks and looks around again

He still doesn’t see you

Which sucks, because he’s been thinking about this exact moment non stop since loded diper got this dream of a gig

He’s been making the boys practice way more than normal

Much to his parent’s dismay (even though they’re starting to sound pretty good)

To avoid another Heather Hills sweet 16 situation

But more importantly, to impress you

When Rodrick fell asleep every night this week, he had a variation of the same dream

Playing at this party, rocking the house so hard people talk about it for years afterwards, and getting to see you

You’re so beautiful, standing dead center at the front of the crowd, looking up at him the whole time

They barely finish their set when you weave your way through the band, and walk right up to him

His heart is pounding as you start praising him, telling him how good he was, how you want to be his little rockstar’s girlfriend

He usually gets so excited he wakes himself up after that

And now

It’s finally happening

His literal dreams are coming true

His band got a great gig

And he gets to play for you

This is probably the biggest opportunity since battle of the bands 

The guys know how much he’s been looking forward to this

It’s all he’s been talking about

He really thinks that if everything goes perfect, he might be able to shoot his shot with you

He just has to focus

Focus on playing a perfect gig, focus on figuring out how to woo you

Once they’re all warmed up and hyped up, they start their set

You can hear the band starting to tune up from the other room, and try for what feels like the millionth time to slip away from Brent

You’ve had to turn him down more times than you can count, and he still can’t take a goddamn hint

“I really have to go check on my friends…” you trail off, finally slipping into the crowd

You manage to find Madison, who signals to Heather, and soon all three of you are hiding in the bathroom

You catch your breath for a little while, touching up your makeup while Heather checks herself out and fluffs her hair

Madison sits nearby, texting someone

After a little while, you sigh, figuring you should all get back

Heather and Madison share a look while you straighten out your necklace 

Heather walks to the door with Madison right behind her

She pokes her head out of the door, then closes it quickly

“Brent is right down the hall,” she says, turning back to you as Madison nods, “we should wait in here a little longer

It feels like you wait in the bathroom forever while Heather occasionally sending Madison out to check

After a little while you hear faint music

Your stomach drops

You can’t miss the band, the whole point of throwing this party was getting to see Rodrick and loded diper play 

“Did they start already?” you ask, walking toward the door

Heather grabs your arm before you can open it, telling you Brent is still right outside, and sends Madison to go check if the band started yet

Madison comes back a minute later

“They’re still warming up,” she says, sharing a look with Heather

A little while later, the music gets louder and you don’t want to risk missing their show

You leave the bathroom before Heather and Madison can stop you 

You’re met with loud rock music reverberating through the house

Definitely not just warming up

You try to get to the other room where they’re playing so you don’t miss the rest of their set

Before you get very far, Brent catches your eye and cuts through the crowd

He follows you around and keeps trying to pull you aside to flirt and talk and get you to go out with him 

You manage to get to the doorway of the room they’re playing when he pins you against the wall

He’s going on and on about how you’d be perfect together, you’d be lucky to get with him, everyone at school wants him

But all you can think about is how great the band sounds

They’re like a perfect blend of all the best pop punk and rock groups you’ve ever heard

Right off the bat, you pick out influences from green day, my chemical romance, and metallica 

You’re really fucking impressed

You didn’t expect them to be this good, and you didn’t have low expectations to begin with

You just wish you could get away from Brent to really get to see the rest of their set before it’s over

When the song ends, you hear Rodricks voice and stretch up to try and see him as he leans into the mic

“Thank you, we are Loded Diper! Fuck authority!” he looks over at Chris, then leans back into the mic “And the patriarchy!” 

Your stomach sinks as you realize you missed most of their show, but you still cheer louder than anyone else in the room

Rodrick lets out a little puff of air when Chris taps his shoulder, getting his attention

“Uh, listen man…” Chris starts, but Rodrick doesn’t hear what he says after that

He looks over to where Chris is gesturing, and his heart sinks

Brent has you pinned against the wall across the room, and you two are looking awfully cozy together

“Shit…” Rodrick says

Once again, he looks like an idiot for thinking he has a chance with you

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Ben says, signaling to Ward to help them bring their stuff back out to the van

They wrap it up and leave quickly, and Ward, Ben, and Chris try to figure out how to help their heartbroken drummer 

You spend the rest of the party looking for Rodrick

You hope he stuck around, you really want to tell him how great he was

When the alcohol runs out and the party’s over, Madison and Heather sleep over, helping you clean up 

Technically Heather makes Madison help you clean up

All they can talk about is prom coming up, but your mind is still on Rodrick

And how you didn’t get to see him

You wish you could have told him how amazing he was

Even if he’s not into you like you’re really, really into him

You just want him to know that you could listen to his music all day and never get tired of it

“...coordinating dates, and-” Heather says, turning to you suddenly, “you’re going to help us pick out dresses, right?” 

You nod, flashing her a smile and hoping to disguise your disappointment at how the night went

“Yeah,” you answer as she goes on about finding you all dates

But you know that if you can’t go to prom with Rodrick, you won’t want to go at all

You just hope by some miracle you’ll get to dance with him, at least once

@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Catwoman's new sidekick (dc x dp)

This is very loosely inspired by this prompt. Enjoy the blurb:)

Danny didn’t really like guns. Not the ecto-weapons his parents made, but the actual bullet-filled guns. He knew how to use them, as that was what his parents had based themselves off of to create their own ectoplasm-powered version of it, but he didn’t like them. So when he’d found one not only loaded, but with the safety off in his apartment’s garbage bin, he’d plan to take it and go throw it in the river to make sure nobody would get to use it. Danny wasn’t exactly shocked to see it, this was Gotham after all, but it was a bit of a nasty surprise to say the least. It wasn’t like it could really hurt him anymore, it seemed halfas had a sort of built-in instinct for going intangible (which had explained why the Nasty-Burger-explosion-that-never-happened hadn’t affected him despite being taken completely by surprise).

Not to mention he was already in a bad mood at the news that Vlad was in the city right now for some rich guy nonsense, which Danny was 100% sure meant the fruitloop was going to come by to bother him at some point in the next few days.

“Hello, Daniel,” came Vlad’s voice from behind him as if summoned.

“Get away from me, you creep,” Danny answered, not turning around. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.

“Is that anyway to talk to your unckie Vlad?” The man said with his smarmy tone. “And I came by such a long way to come see you.”

“You saw me, now you can leave.” Danny didn’t bother turning his head as Vlad caught up so they were walking side by side.

The billionaire tsked as he looked around. “It’s such a shame you live in such a poor neighbourhood. You know the offer to pay for your tuition is still open.”

“Not in a million years,” Danny answered dryly.

“You’re just as stubborn as my dear Madeleine used to be,” Vlad sighed and Danny felt the disgust twist his features into a grimace.

“Still being a creepy disgusting old loner, Vlad?” Danny snarked. “How many cats are you on, number 5?”

There was flash of anger in the older man’s eye before he smirked. “And how is dear Danielle these days, it’s been so long since she came by. I think she’ll be due for another meltdown soon.”

On impulse, Danny raised the gun, knowing full well the man would go intangible faster than any bullet and pointed it at Vlad. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Oh please, Daniel,” Vlad scoffed. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”

“Maybe,” Danny retorted.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Vlad dismissed.

“Might make me feel better,” Danny said even as he lowered the gun a bit, knowing it wouldn’t do anything.

Vlad knew this just as well, and he sneered before turning his back to Danny and walking away with a parting shot. “I always get what I want, Daniel. Whether it’s through you or her.”

The gun that Danny had lowered slightly now came back up. He was so tempted to empty the stupid thing at Vlad, no matter if it would all pass through him. Before he could do anything though, a voice from above sounded.

“He’s not worth it, kid.”

Danny looked up to find the masked face of Catwoman peering down on him.

“He deserves worse than this,” Danny said, mind still on the temptation of shooting at Vlad’s intangible back. This was a deserted part of the city, it wasn’t like it would hurt anyone else.

“I promise there are better ways to make him pay,” Catwoman answered.

Danny scoffed bitterly. “Vlad’s so rich, he can pay off anyone and cover up any scandal I could think of.” And if money didn’t work, there was always straight-up overshadowing innocent bystanders.

The masked woman hesitated for a while before she called down determinately. “Look, get rid of the gun, and I promise I’ll help you make him pay.”

“Really?�� Danny wasn’t too sure what that entailed but anything that would hinder Vlad was a go for him. “You promise?”

“I do,” she stated with conviction. “But you have to lose the gun.”

“Yeah, ok,” Danny said. He was going to do it anyways, but if she wanted it gone even faster, Danny wasn’t going to argue.

Selina watched as her new sidekick dropped off the gun into the river. It fell in with a splash that had something in her curling comfortably. Maybe Bruce was really rubbing off on her if she was picking up strays

But, Selina had a good feeling about this. Talking a kid out of murder had been how Batman had gotten his first Robin, after all.

[starlightandfairies]

Helloooo :) i hope you’re having a wonderful day or night! Or just both lol. Anyways, is it okay if I ask for a Klaus Mikaelson x Female reader one-shot? For me, I don’t like where the reader just falls in love with him so quickly, despite everything he has done. I was thinking of something with fluff and he has to work for her love? So basically, reader has been friends with Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline since childhood, but she’s still human. And she hates Klaus for what he has done to her friends and family, but despite everything he has done he hasn’t don’t anything to harm her physically in any way. (Hint hint, cause it means he likes her lol). And because of this, he tries to show he genuinely cares about her. It takes her a long while to eventually warm up to him.

Sorry, this is a lot -_-…uh, and not very detailed lol. I wanted to leave it up to your imagination, but totally fine if you can’t cause writers block and other things. Anyway, an idea: maybe reader gets saved by Klaus and he admits he likes her but she kinda plays hard to get. of course, she can’t help but to be flattered by his accent, his flattery, his looks, etc. And because she is human, being tortured or just kidnapped by supernatural beings is genuinely terrifying and he comforts her? I hope this is all okay! Of course you can change or add whatever you’d like. I love Klaus so much, and I love your writing!

Description: If the great Niklaus Mikaelson wants to become closer to the reader then he would have to push through thick and thin to do so.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I really tried my best to show this eventual bonding that is more realistic, while also not rambling on for a story length.

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, F/fs = favourite flowers

Word Count: 1, 915

First Person's POV 

Niklaus Mikaelson drove me insane, I do not understand how he thought he could follow me around, begging for my interest like he hasn't done anything wrong to those around him. The great Klaus Mikaelson was many things but he wasn't the type of man I would bend over backwards to show that their past didn't matter. I won't lie, there were times when it was hard to really show my distaste for the Hybrid due to that accent, his looks and his charisma but I do like to pride myself on my stubbornness and the fact that I'm not that easy to charm. 

Besides Matt, I was the only other human, sure Bonnie was in a sense human but she had her magic to protect her and I had nothing. I didn't have any of that. I was just a straight-up human who could die at any second or become permanently injured if tossed around too harshly. The girls have grown to somewhat like him and every now and again will remind me of the fact that not once has he ever tried to hurt me, not once has he ever used me as bait or tried threatening me in any way shape or form.

Bonnie, Caroline and Elena have all expressed their hatred for the man and it only fueled mine. I have no clue what it would take for me to show any sign of sympathy for the man or any sense of forgiveness considering what he's done. There were times when I even disliked Damon and Stefan for what they've done. Sure, it might be contractionary of me to like the Salvatores and not hate them like I did Klaus... but still. 

It's at least been a good two years of having the Mikaelsons in our lives. Rebekah and Elijah were tolerable. I felt for Rebekah and Elijah seemed true to his word, even if he was sometimes conflicted between his family and his morals. Klaus was 

"Hey, Y/n!" I huffed, stopping in my tracks, knowing there was no use in continuing on when he could easily Casper the ghost right in front of me. I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow, not impressed by his persistent attitude. 

"What do you want Niklaus? 

"Well, love... I was hoping I could treat you to some dinner. Show you some of the best places. Things you couldn't possibly comprehend seeing." I rolled my eyes, shook my head, sucked my lips into a straight line and raised an eyebrow.

"Really, Niklaus? Every time it's been a no. What makes you think this will be a yes?" 

"I saw your play last night, I think you are a pretty amazing actress." I didn't believe him, I think that he's making stuff up, trying to show that he's a good guy. 

"Prove it, what happened when the actor playing Stanley threw his chair." Klaus chuckled lightly, licking his lips for a moment before he walked closer and leaned in for a moment. 

"You tripped over your own feet, fell over... you worked it into your performance, no one in that audience would've known any different. I think skill like that is pretty talented. I have seen many performers across my lifetime and not many could do that." I rocked on my feet, biting my lips and huffing for a moment. 

"You came to my performance?" I questioned my tone soft for a moment, surprised that Klaus came. The girls weren't able to due to supernatural issues happening again, I didn't want to show any sign of falling for his charm.

"Yes, I did. I don't know why you sound so surprised..." I shrugged, taking a breath, glancing away for a moment trying to remain as stoic as I could.  

"I have to go, goodbye, Klaus." I carried on my way, going back to doing what I originally planned on doing before. Tonight was the closing night of A Streetcar Named Desire the girls were meant to show but once again due to the new big bad in town, they didn't show. I stood in my dressing room, wiping off my makeup before the tears could come. I was just about to open the door before I was stopped by Klaus.

"K-Klaus... what, what are you doing here?" He handed me a bouquet of my F/fs, I took them with a small smile and stepped aside to allow him into the dressing room. 

"You got your own dressing room, that's pretty neat..." The Hybrid trailed off, glancing at the desk that was covered in tissues, I moved to clean them up but he moved in front of me before I could. 

"Why are you crying...?" 

"I'm okay Niklaus." I turned to him hearing his chuckle, I raised an eyebrow in question, how dare he laugh at me!

"I promise, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at the fact that when I'm getting closer to breaking down your walls, you call me Klaus but when you realise that you're dropping your walls you go right back to calling me Niklaus." I sat back down, staring at him surprised that he picked up on something that I hadn't actively been aware of doing. 

"My friends couldn't come. They promised that they would but because of the new big bad in town... they couldn't and because I'm human-" Realising I was sharing my than I would like to Klaus, I bit my lip trying to remind myself that I couldn't get close to Klaus. 

"Let me read you something." He pulled out a newspaper, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, just for once but turned my attention to continuing to remove my makeup. 

"Y/n L/n's performance as Blanche DuBois has been spectacular on all nights of the production. In my years as a critic, I have never seen this much dedication and accuracy similar to the vision Tennessee Williams had when picturing Blanche DuBois. I admire Y/n greatly as a performer and know that she is an actress highly dedicated to perfecting her characters' mannerisms and hope that she goes far with her acting journey." I stared at Klaus surprised, I jumped to my feet, staring at Klaus with intrigue and took the paper from his hands. 

I read the words, staring at them in shock that this was actually true, the author's name is what shocked me the most. Klaus M

"You wrote this?" 

"I did." 

"And you mean it?" 

"I do." Maybe... maybe if a man who didn't know me could make the time to watch all of my performances... maybe he wasn't so bad. 

"Thank you, Klaus... it means a lot." 

It took two years, four months and 18 days for Klaus Mikaelson to get me to warm up to him, I think I deserve a trophy for just how long I've made him work to get to know me better. The truth is, I am terrified of getting killed, kidnapped or tortured by the supernatural me, I mean what if someone worse than Klaus comes into town and because I am one of the very few humans left in town I get used as collateral? 

I was walking home from the Grill, minding my own business until everything went dark and I finally came to find myself tied up in a chair, blood dripping from my nose, head and stomach. I cried out, looking around terrified of who could be hurting me and what they would do if they didn't get what they wanted. 

"Hmm, you're awake again. Try not to pass out this time... the blood loss will really be screwing with your head. I would apologise but I really don't care I just need that damn hybrid to come forward and save your ass-" 

"Who are you?" I cried out, trying my best to not show weakness but the pain in my limbs and the fear that was coming in made it impossible to think of anything but my pain. 

"Who I am isn't important, I tried to keep your face pretty but you know." The unknown figure shrugs, leaning in closer and grabbing my face in his hands with a glare forming and with a snarl he reveals his fangs. I shake my head, feeling his breath on my skin and whimper feeling his fangs pierce my neck. 

It fades away swiftly, the tears cascade down my cheeks, and I stare in shock seeing Klaus standing there and dropping the man's heart onto the floor. Within an instant I was in his arms, I grabbed onto his shirt letting out a sob and whimpering as the pain seemed to increase. 

"Shh, love, it's okay... you're gonna be okay. I've got you." Klaus reassured, biting into his wrist, he gestures to his wrist and I slowly suck on his wrist. 

"I won't let anything happen to you, love. I am very fond of you, I will not let anything happen before I can tell you just how fond I am of you." I stared in fascination as my body healed instantly, it always surprised me and always made me curious to realise how lucky these supernatural beings were. 

"Please, please don't let them hurt me. Don't let them get to me." 

"It's okay, love. I've got you." 

"I'm so scared, every day, I'm scared that I'm going to be kidnapped or tortured... being human, I know I'm nothing compared-"

"I won't let that happen. Love, I won't let anyone hurt you, not again. I swear to you." He hummed lightly, rocking me in his arms and whispered over and over again kind and soothing words. I decided to bring it back to his starting words, once I felt okay and able to move on from what just happened. 

"You're fond of me? Nothing new-" I stated, with a shrug, biting back the smile I wanted to show, Klaus chuckled and helped me to my feet. I stared at him, surely making a weird expression as I hid my emotions. 

"I am fond of you, I like you, quite a bit and I want you to know, love I will do anything to keep you safe. Even if you hate me for the rest of eternity, I will do what I can to keep you safe." My heart skipped a beat, it made me feel special knowing that someone cared for me that much, I nodded and sucked in a breath gradually letting a smile come through. 

"Thank you for saving me... "

"You're welcome, love. Love, I hope you know how gorgeous you are." I blushed, scrunching my face up as his normal charm got to me more than normal. 

"Flattery only gets you so far." 

"Yet, it got me to becoming closer to you." I shrugged, smirking for a moment and sucked in a deep breath. I grabbed his hand, smiling happily and tried my best to not focus in on the blood on my clothes, his clothes and the floor from the attacker. 

"Well, then, perhaps I'll let you in closer." 

[lovelyjj]

Bodygaurd!jj with kook!reader. Hear me out at first when he gets the job he thinks she’s a spoiled brat but she’s the complete opposite. So when he first meets her he’s being really mean and she doesn’t know why. It’s a lot I know 😭😭😭

omg bodyguard!jj are you kidding?!!?! so hot! please send more bodyguard!jj ideas or concepts!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your parents hired a bodyguard because they felt like you needed one. You were a kook princess, rich and wealthy with a heart of gold. Who knows who would try and take advantage of you or harm you in anyway.

You accepted it, realizing that your parents were only trying to protect you. You weren’t thrilled but you came to terms with it. Having a bodyguard felt like you were an actual princess.

When you first met your bodyguard you were taken back. He wasn’t very nice to you and you had no idea why.

“Hi I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” you greeted him.

“I’m JJ, but you can call me Mr. Maybank,” He grumbled.

“Oh. Okay,” you smiled trying to remain friendly.

“Well I was planning on going shopping today,” you continued.

“Of course you were,” JJ rolled his eyes.

You frowned, not sure what you did wrong to make him be so rude.

The mall was fairly crowded. You dragged JJ from store to store and he grumpily followed you around. You tried on a handful of clothes and asked JJ’s opinion which he grumbled out a “It looks terrible.”

When you were at the food court JJ let his opinions break free.

“Do you really need more clothes?” JJ scoffed.

“Probably not but isn’t it fun to shop?” you asked.

“No.” JJ deadpanned.

“Why are you such a grump?” you asked.

“Because you’re an entitled self-centered bitch.” JJ insulted.

“Oh,” you sniffled, “Um ok don’t know why you felt the need to say that but thanks for the honesty I guess.”

JJ crossed his arms and didn’t reply.

You didn’t want JJ to see you upset so you put on your brave face. You didn’t know why JJ was being so mean but it hurt your feelings. How were you supposed to get along with him with his attitude. He was your bodyguard for christ sakes, he was going to be with you all the time.

JJ truly believed what he said. He thought you were a spoiled brat. And that couldn’t be further from the truth but he didn’t care to find that out. JJ was stubborn and he was set in his ways, but he couldn’t deny you were pretty.

When you were done shopping you got a text from your mom asking if you could get groceries. You said yes of course because that’s the kind of person you are. Reliable, trustworthy, selfless.

You arrived at the store with JJ by your side.

You felt a little defeated because of JJ’s attitude towards you. But you did your best to remain positive. You went down the aisles shopping for all the items on the list your mom texted you.

JJ followed you around the store making sure you were safe because that’s his job. JJ huffed and puffed as he helped you shop still set in his ways that you’re a spoiled brat.

When you got all the things on the list JJ helped load the groceries into the car. You were walking in the street to the passenger door when a car came out of no where. JJ pushed you out of the way and held you on the sidewalk.

“Jesus christ are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Watch out where you’re going, ok?” JJ scolded.

“Thanks for saving me Mr. Maybank” you said.

“It was nothing,” JJ shrugged.

Your bodyguard was mean to you and you didn’t have a clue why. You were hoping that one day you would get along. You had hope. Maybe just maybe your bodyguard might surprise you.

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ||

a/n: Hello loves! So sorry I kept y'all waiting for part three, I hope you enjoy this! Just wanted to let y'all know that I'll be flying off to South Korea for a vacation, and will only be back on the 22nd of June so updates will be paused till then. I'll try to continue writing on my trip, but there are no guarantees I won't be too tired lolol. Love, pumpkin.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Blackmail — The act of attempting to force someone to do something or give up something valuable by threatening negative consequences if they don’t, especially revealing negative information about them.

That's what the online dictionary says anyway, which is perfect! 

As such, it wouldn't be blackmail as much as it would be....persuasive negotiation. Which is the exact opposite of blackmail, which, again, is perfect! 

Yeah, you’re getting nowhere with this.

You stifle a defeated groan as you collapse onto the plush mattress of your bed, dragging your hands down your face. Your phone beeps with a message, startling you out of your thoughts.

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: Did you find what you were looking for?

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: ? 

Nicole [ 7.30 PM ]: Update me tomorrow.

Right. Nicole. Your hand falls limply to the side, fingers loosely gripping the device.

Crap. 

How would you explain it to her? She’s always been good at sniffing out your lies. To tell, or not to tell. That is the question. Maybe you should just pretend nothing happened. That’d be the only reasonable thing to do in this situation, right? 

But your art is at risk here. And if it’s anything you’ve learnt over your many years of living, it’s that you’re a stubborn bull that can’t back down once you’re set on something. And right now, you’re set on getting Spiderman to be your model. 

You might get your mojo back if you draw him enough times. Maybe your art block won’t be so constipated anymore, and perhaps you might even get into the art school you have your eye on.

And maybe, just maybe, you might catch the eye of the art scouts at the end-of-year exhibition.

So there’s no way you can afford to give this up. 

You’ll convince him. You have to.

— — — — — 

“So, why’d you ignore my messages yesterday?” 

You flinch away from the sudden hand on your shoulder, fingers decorated with rings glinting in the sun. Michael winces from where he’s standing opposite you, taking a long, slow sip of his juice box. 

You stammer out Nicole’s name in surprise, the girl in question looking at you with a raised brow and serious eyes. She scans your nervous smile and flushed cheeks, letting go of you with a nod. 

“You met him. How was it?”

Damn it.

“I didn’t end up meeting him,” You say with a defeated sigh, hoping it’s not excessive. Being under Nicole’s observant gaze is one of the scariest experiences in the world, with pigeons in close proximity a close second. 

“Okay,” Her dubious tone gives you a slight sense of hope, only for your heart to drop at her next question. “So, why’d you ask me for Miles’s photo?”

“I, uh, ran into him and thought he looked familiar. So, I asked for his picture to double check,” You admit, hoping the truth mixed into some lies would be enough to convince her. 

“Right…What’s your impression of him, then?”

“Cute?” You blurt out without thinking, recalling the framed picture of his young self with his parents on the small table.

“You think he’s cute?”

“M-maybe?” You try, but it clicks once you see the disgust in her eyes. “Yes! I do, in fact, find him very attractive. One might even say that he is now my…crush?” 

You pray she doesn’t notice the underlying wince in your words. Nicole shudders, taking a small step away from you. “You need to get your eyes checked or something. I’ve known the guy since we were in diapers, and trust me when I say that he’s nothing but trouble.”

“I won’t do anything, I promise. Besides, I’m sure the crush is just temporary. It’ll blow over before you even know it!” Mainly because you don’t have a crush on the guy in the first place. But you do need to figure out a way to trap him to persuade him into being your model.

“Wait, you met Miles?”

“Why’re you glossing over the fact that she likes him?” Nicole says incredulously, gesturing to you with wide eyes. It’s probably the most expressive you’ve ever seen her, save for the time you invited them to go cafe hopping with you on a sweltering Monday. 

You’d never heard so many variations of curses before, all of which Nicole unintentionally introduced you to. Since then, you’ve learnt to only hang out on cooler days with better weather and cafes within walking distance.

“So?” Michael shrugs nonchalantly, but the amused smile on his lips suggests otherwise. “Why are you so affected?”

“Because it’s my best friend liking Miles Morales - the guy I’ve known since we were babies. He’s not good enough for her.” Nicole decides with a frown. You turn to her, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you place your hands on your heart.

“I’m your best friend?” Nicole rolls her eyes at your words, crossing her arms. “You can drop from that tier anytime, so you better watch out.” She replies simply with a halfhearted glare, but her words have no bite to them. Her ears are tinted red.

“Aww,” You coo, throwing your arms around the girl who baulks in surprise, almost falling to the ground had you not steadied both of you. She wriggles under your tight hug, giving up quickly with a groan. 

“Let me get in on that, chicas-” Michael is cut off when you kick his ankle, biting back a pained cry while you continue to hug Nicole, who has a satisfied smirk at your action. “Good job.” She pats your arm, and you reluctantly let go, dramatically wiping the tears away.

At least you succeeded in distracting her.

The rest of the day practically flies by, your body on autopilot and going through the motions of taking out your textbooks and doodling on them. Math, Science, and History were all meaningless in your eyes as you tried to make another plan to meet him. The past three attempts had shown you exactly how difficult it was to meet with the hero, much less alone. 

You’re not one to give up, though. You stare down at the piece of paper filled with doodles and scribbled words — an outline of a plan, circling Spiderman’s name in red. 

Okay, let’s try this again. 

Attempt #1: Meet Him At The Park - The Friendly Way.

You take a tentative glance around. Good, No dogs are in sight. You look over to the park's far end, where you had set up a sign saying that dog treats were being given out for free if they assembled there.

Sometimes, lying is an essential means of survival. Another quick scan of your surroundings confirms that no one is in the path of the taco truck, and feeling only slightly guilty when you spot the owner’s surprised expression, wondering why his usual customers aren’t present. 

However, you try not to linger on that, choosing to double-check if everything you need is on you.

Phone? Check. Earbuds? Check. Wallet? Check. Spiderman?

You grin once you spot the masked hero landing in front of the taco truck, right on schedule. 

Check. 

Standing up, you slowly make your way over, giving him time to place his order. Every step is light, your heart oddly calm as you approach him. Yeah. You got this. It’s just getting him to agree that’s the hard part.

Okay. You got this. Play it cool.

Walking up to the taco truck, you clear your throat, propping your elbow onto the small metal platform near the baskets of condiments. You casually glance at him, scanning his suit from head to toe before meeting his eyes.

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” he replies slowly with a slight tilt of his head, surprised by your sudden presence. He taps his fingers against the cold metal of the taco truck in a steady rhythm. You take a slow breath. You can take your time. It’s just a boy under the mask, after all.

“So, how’s being Spiderman going?” You ask absentmindedly, looking down at your nails and only now noticing that you’re in desperate need of a manicure. 

“It’s going good. And you?”

“Could be better.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Is it anything your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman can help with?” His words are filled with worry, now giving you his full attention.

Got him.

“Well…” You trail off, barely managing to hide the excitement in your eyes and voice. Now’s the time to approach him carefully. If you’re careless, you could lose one of the few opportunities to get him to be your muse. 

“Uh-huh?” He grabs the paper bag of tacos the owner hands him, handing him a crumpled bill from a hidden pocket in his suit with a quick nod of thanks in one smooth movement. However, he hears a slight commotion a short distance away, eyes narrowing as he tries to determine the source.

“I’m an art student, and I need a muse,” You continue, encouraged by his questioning hum and failing to notice the way his gaze is focused on something happening behind you. “So I was thinking-”

“Right, uh, miss. You seem like an absolutely wonderful lady. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to continue this conversation another day. Duty’s kinda calling right now. I’ll pass by the basketball court tomorrow, and you can ask me your question there?” You can’t tell if he’s smiling, grinning, or even scowling under the mask. But it didn’t exactly sound hostile, so that’s that you suppose.

“Meet me at the sub shop on Fifth Avenue, two lefts after the huge statue and a right at the Lego store. Two-thirty P.M.,” You reply immediately. Why Mr Perez’s shop, in particular, you didn’t know. But you’re not about to chase after his ass again after the last few times. Not a chance in hell.

He agrees with a quick but apologetic nod, already swinging off with his paper bag of tacos and heading toward the angry horde of dog parents around the sign you placed earlier. You watch him land before them, trying to calm the group down.

Well, at least you got an appointment with him tomorrow. The problem now is how to make sure he accepts. Plus, him constantly running off isn’t the most ideal scenario in your situation.

So, you have to make sure he stays put.

You walk off, heading to the sub shop with the beginnings of an idea. (While simultaneously forgetting about the horde of dog parents who’re growing increasingly angrier from the absence of promised dog treats).

— — — — — 

“Mr Perez, nice shirt! Did you separate the whites from the colours? It looks so clean!” You greet as soon as you walk in, taking a deep breath and smiling at the scent of pickle brine. The store is relatively empty, the last customer leaving through the door just as you walked in. 

The store owner walks to the glass door, flipping the sign around to read Closed. He sends you a wary glance, walking back behind the counter to start cleaning up while you lean against the glass display case.

“What do you want?”

“Who said I wanted anything?” 

“You only compliment my laundry when you want something.” It’s true. You do tend to do that. You suppose it’s time to be rid of the habit. But not today, for you have much more important goals to pursue. 

“Okay. I need to borrow the storeroom for, like, a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon. No disturbances, complete privacy. Not even Didi is allowed in.” You get straight to the point, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“...Are you doing drugs?”

“That’s gross. And unsanitary. If I were doing drugs, I’d do it in the Science lab at school.” You point out, scrunching your nose in disgust. 

“Are you smoking? Vaping?”

“No, and no. C’mon, Mr Perez, I thought you knew me better than that!” You huff, though you know that he’s just joking from the amused twinkle in his eyes. 

“Fine. Just give me the signal. Besides, Didi’s at preschool tomorrow till five.” He says simply, wiping down his workstation with a clean cloth. 

“Really? No takebacks!” You say with an exaggerated gasp, not expecting him to actually agree. The bright smile on your face makes him chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he washes up the kitchen knives in the sink. 

“What time will you be coming?”

“Two-thirty. Remember, you promised no questions asked!” You call out over your shoulder as you exit while raising your hand in a quick salute. You saunter on home with your hands in your pockets, chest swelling with pride that you got a guaranteed meeting with the very boy you’ve been trying to convince to be your muse. 

You’ve definitely got this.

— — — — — 

Attempt #2: Kidnap Meet Him At The Sub Store - The Friendly Way.

Two-fifteen P.M.

You glance over at the IKEA clock hanging from the wall opposite you in the storeroom, tying the string securely around the metal shelf. Taking a step back, you survey the setup, scanning it for flaws in your otherwise perfect plan.

You arrange the chair to sit behind a wobbly table that’s about to break any day now due to countless playtimes with Didi’s mischievous ideas. (And maybe some of your own, but Mr Perez doesn’t need to know that.)

The bright light in the slightly cramped storeroom only adds to the ambience (of what, you don’t really know yourself). The punching bag hanging in the corner of the room is definitely no cause for concern. Maybe he’d think that you’re really into exercise. All that’s left is for Spiderman to get caught in your perfect trap. You’re pretty sure he won’t get hurt in the process. 

The only thing left now is to wait. You head out into the front of the store, waving Spiderman over as soon as you see him enter. He follows with a skip in his step, only to slow down when you guide him into the storeroom. 

“Uh…This is new, even for me.” He comments, looking around at the stacked boxes and metal shelves, unsure of what to make of this sudden change in vibe. You gesture at the chair, closing the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I just needed a place away from prying eyes.” You sigh, discreetly watching him take a seat. He does so without hesitation, and you immediately grab the end of the string that’s hooked onto the metal shelf, using all of your strength (and the help of a pulley) to yank it. 

Spiderman yelps, dangling from the ceiling by a tightly secured string around his ankle. “What the-? You said you needed help!” 

“And I do!” You reply, a tinge of desperation in your words. “Just…just hang on.” You breathe out, taking the frying pan on the shelf next to you after securing the string and leaving him dangling still. You approach him, Spiderman failing to notice, too preoccupied with trying to escape.

“Michael better be right about this,” You mumble under your breath, taking a quick swing and hitting the spot on his head that Michael promised would knock anyone out instantly. Spiderman’s eyes close, his cry of protest cut off as his hands fall limply to his sides. 

“Oh.” You stare down at him, squatting down and reaching your hand out to gently massage the spot where you hit him with a guilty smile. You hadn’t expected it to actually work. “Sorry, Morales. My goals aren’t to harm you, promise.”

Standing back up with a wince, you can feel the joints in your body popping from the sudden stretch. You never really bothered with exercise, categorizing your sketching and painting as such.

You huff, grabbing his arms and pulling him across the room after untying him from the string around his ankle. “But one of them might be to start working out,” You say through gritted teeth, finally reaching the punching bag. You take a deep breath, doing your best to pick him up and hold him against it while you tie him up.

“No-” Your muffled cry is cut short when your arms give out, and you fall onto your back with the unconscious hero lying on top of you. You groan, pushing him off you, eyeing the punching bag with distaste.

Another repeated attempt ends in the same result, and your back starts to ache from the impact of the hard surface against your back. You see him starting to stir, your eyes widening in panic, instinctively grabbing the frying pan and hitting him again. He falls back to the floor with a hushed groan while you breathe a sigh of relief.

You stand back up, eyeing the punching bag, before an idea hits you. 

Finally, you sit in the chair in front of the punching bag, taking out your sketchbook from the bag you'd placed on one of the shelves this afternoon and beginning to sketch him leisurely. You spot him slowly blinking, regaining his consciousness as he realises that he’s tied up.

"So..." You drawl, leaning back in your seat with a lazy grin. The city's local hero, Spiderman, dangles upside down in your trap. You actually did it. You got him to stay put.

He struggles to get free from the tightly bound ropes, almost tugging off his mask in the process before giving up seconds after. “Not again…” You hear him groan in defeat, looking back up at you with a deadpan stare.

"I have to admit, I love the new suit." You comment, grabbing a pencil and doing a quick sketch, ignoring his earlier words.

"What do you want from me?"

You pause, looking up from your sketchbook. "You sound pretty young to be a hero." You purse your lips, trying to guess his age.

"W-what? No, I don't." His voice turns gruff, and you chuckle from how obvious he was forcing it to be.

"I don't really want much. Just to draw you is all." You hum, flipping a page and letting pencil meet paper.

"What?"

You don't respond, eyes trained on sketching the dimensions of his midnight black suit. "I like the spray paint."

"Thanks," He's surprised by your comment, hands still furiously working to free himself. 

"Aren't you a villain?" He questions, unable to hold back his curiosity. You weren't really doing anything to him either, not like the muggers or robbers that roam the streets at night.

You were just... drawing him.

"I just thought the suit was cool." You respond simply with a shrug, looking straight at the white material on his mask that hides his eyes.

He flinches, surprised by the sudden eye contact. "And you trapped me because...?"

"I wanted to draw it."

"You could've just asked."

"I tried. You weren't really paying attention, or you weren’t available. Hero duties and all, remember? "

Now that you mentioned it, the hero does remember you from the mugging and the excuses he’d made, shrugging sheepishly in response. 

"Oh. My bad."

The corner of your lips tugs upwards into a slight smile. At least he has the common decency to admit it.

"Could you untie me, though? It's getting a little uncomfortable." He voices out, fingers still trying to wriggle free.

"Sure, but I'll need something in exchange."

He sighs. Of course, you did. People always wanted something from him as Spiderman, be it a photo or to gain clout.

"What is it?" He's wary now.

You grin, hands closing the sketchbook with a loud snap as you place your pencil on your chair, getting up.

"That's easy," You walk towards him with ease, eyes filled with certainty. You're inches away from his upside-down figure, leaning in slightly until your lips are next to where his ear would be under the mask.

"Be my model, Miles Morales.”

He stills at the mention of his name. “Wh-what? I don’t know who this Miles guy is, but I’m obviously not him.” He laughs nervously, shaking his head.

You can practically see the waves of panic flooding through his mind. “You just changed the pitch of your voice,” You point out casually instead, leaning back against the wall with a smirk, your hands in your pockets.

“I’m telling you, I’m not this Miles guy you think I am. Though I’m very sure he may be cool enough to be Spiderman, I am not him.” He almost trips over his words, flinching when you move your hand close to his mask.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I take this off?” You hum, spotting him trying to use his electric powers to break free. “Don’t bother. The strings are made out of insulated material.”

He flinches away from your fingers brushing against the side of his face, his eyes meeting yours and knowing he’s already lost this battle. “Fine.” He surrenders, his eyes narrowed into a hostile glare directed at you.

“Don’t be like that,” You chide, sitting cross-legged in front of him with a disapproving shake of your head. “Besides, I’m just here to make a deal with you.” 

“Is this about the model thing?”

“Yeap,” You confirm, popping the ‘p’. “Here’s all I’m asking. Let me meet up with you twice a week. I’ll even pay you ten bucks per session. All you gotta do is sit there.” The intensity of his glare lessens somewhat, though you can still sense his wariness. Makes sense, though, considering you’ve just essentially ensured he can’t say no. Besides, your terms and conditions aren’t half bad either.

You wait patiently for his response, giving him time to mull over it. 

“Deal. Now let me go.” 

“Uh-uh, not just yet,” You tut, moving over to your bag, grabbing the makeshift contract you drafted last night, and showing it to him with a triumphant grin. “I even added two different lines for both of your signatures. Spiderman’s and Miles Morales.” 

He rolls his eyes, and you take that as a good sign, cutting him loose. He falls gracefully to the floor, landing in a perfect superhero pose. You applaud, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for staying calm throughout the entire exchange. He takes the pen you hand to him, scrawling his name on the dotted line. You smile widely and keep the contract back in your bag, practically on cloud nine with this accomplishment.

Unfortunately, the euphoria makes you forget you’re still in a cramped storeroom.

Wincing when your elbow knocks against a loosely stacked box, you and Spiderman watch it slowly topple on its side, landing on the floor with a loud bang before looking at each other with wide eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you don’t got this as much as you thought.

You freeze when the door opens, looking behind you to see Mr Perez with his hand on the doorknob. His eyes flit from you to Spiderman, his gaze settling on the open box on the ground with vegetables spilling out of it before looking back at you with furrowed brows.

As soon as your eyes meet, you smile sheepishly. 

“I’ll babysit on Friday.”

— — — — — — —

taglist: (definitely not because I forgot I said I'd tag people lol)

@oh-kurva @brunnetteiwik @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas

[thewulf]

Why Not? || James Potter

Summary: Can you do a James Potter x reader set during the Marauders time at Hogwarts? I always like the student from america trope if you can. He's tired of chasing after Lily and then you show up. Sirius pulls a prank on the newbie and it goes wrong or something and James has to take you to the hospital wing and he decides he's going after reader next type of thing?

A/N: Whew! This turned out WAY longer than I was expecting. I had fun with it though! Enjoy!

Pairing: James Potter x Y/N

Word Count: 8.0k+

“Mom, come on!” You begrudgingly continued packing your trunk, throwing your clothes in haphazardly. Something you knew would drive her crazy, “I don’t get it. You and dad can move to England for his fancy ministry job, and I can stay here and go to Ilvermorny with all my friends. It totally works mom.” You pleaded with her. You were heading into your sixth year at Ilvermorny and really didn’t want to start over. Much less with the stuck-up students at Hogwarts. You’d heard countless stories of exchange students and their attitudes it put you off the school entirely.

“What do you not understand?” She snapped. Truth be told you did understand why she was exhausted from your incessant questioning of their decision. It was a huge promotion for you dad, one he’d been trying to get for the last five years. It was a no brainer for your family.

You decided to push it anyway, test your mom’s true limits, “I mean, you don’t see me during the school year anyway. What’s the difference?”

“We wouldn’t be able to get to you quickly in an emergency. Apparition is only so fast Y/N.” She gave you a pleading look from the doorway. She looked exhausted. Utterly exhausted. You knew it was best to back off.

You sighed heavily knowing you weren’t going to win, “Fine. Whatever.”

“You’ll like Hogwarts honey.” She walked over patting you on the shoulder, “Your dad studied over there for a few years when his parents did the same.” She tried reassuring you. You simply nodded not feeling like putting up a fight anymore. It wasn’t like what you said mattered. The decision was made without you. You were moving to the UK and going to Hogwarts. That was that.

You’d sent off a hundred letters before heading across the ocean. You’d gotten semi-settled before you had to move into Hogwarts. It was like time was passing and you were stuck. Lost in a world you weren’t ready for just yet. You’d just wished you had more time to process everything as you walked into Hogwarts for the first time. Last week you were set on going back to Ilvermorny. This week you were starting an almost entirely new life.

Your father dropped you off with Professor McGonagall. You learned he’d been sorted into Gryffindor during his three years at Hogwarts. He’d told you all about his time with the house. You didn’t think you’d be a Gryffindor like your father was. The two of you weren’t exactly all that similar.

Your dad was far more outgoing than your quieter one. You’d prefer to sit back and observe in the shadows than take control. Rather learn through watching than doing.

“No offense dad, but I don’t think I’ll be a Gryffindor.” You interrupted him while he was chatting with McGonagall as if it was a sure thing, you’d be joining the Gryffindor house, “I’m a Horned Serpent and you were a Wampus at Ilvermorny. Those are two very different houses.” You said a little more bluntly than you really needed to. You were tired of hearing about Gryffindor. It was more so your stubbornness that was coming out now. You kind of wanted to hurt him. He took you away from your friends, your house, your home. He didn’t even come to talk to you about it before he ripped you away from life you’d already built. He thought just because he loved Hogwarts when he was there, you’d be just fine moving half a world away without even getting to say goodbye first.

A look of hurt briefly crossed his dace before it vanished, “Yeah, we might be a little different sweetheart. But you never know.” He patted your back as he took in the walls he’d known years ago. Nothing had changed. But why would it have? The school had been around for thousands of years and had hardly changed since its inception.

McGonagall nodded, “He’s right. You truly never do know. Let’s go get you sorted.” She smiled knowingly sensing the hesitation of the unknown in front of you.

You gave your dad a long hug before seeing him off, “Love you. See you in a few months.” You gave him a half-assed smile. You tried. You really did. But you weren’t excited. You had no want to be here. You should be getting ready to go to Ilvermorny. Not starting this new life. You knew you needed to get over it, but you were intimidated as hell. It wasn’t easy to make friends. And here you were already quiet as hell going to attempt to make a whole new batch. It was going to be an impossible task you weren’t really ready for.  

You followed quietly behind McGonagall giving her short answers to the prodding questions. You didn’t want to be rude, but it was just feeling like too much for you. You didn’t want to start here on such a negative note, but you just couldn’t seem to get happy.

To your surprise she got you smiling by the time you made it to the sorting hat. To your even further surprise you were sorted into Gryffindor. You saw the small smile and nod from the Head of Gryffindor. Almost as if she already knew that was where you were heading. It still didn’t make much sense to you. You’d have thought you would’ve been put in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff before Gryffindor. The sorting hat must’ve seen something you couldn’t recognize in yourself.

McGonagall got you set up and gave you a quick tour of the important spots to help you get around. She said a girl named Lily would be there early the next morning to help her with the arrival of all the students later on in the day. The girl named Lily would be the one who’d be showing you around. Apparently, she was on track to become Head Girl next year. You could only smile as McGonagall gushed over the girl. She sounded lovely but so completely different than you. A night and day difference. You were curious to see if McGonagall would have such nice things to say about you when you were to leave at the end of the school year.

You spent the night wandering the castles unafraid to get lost knowing you could just ask a picture on the wall for directions if need be. Your favorite room had to be where the enchanted staircases moved under their charm. Ilvermorny hadn’t anything like it, so you watched as they moved into and out of place constantly. You watched for so long you were started to get heckled by the pictures and paintings. To which you gave them the good old fashioned middle finger salute telling them to shut the hell up. You didn’t have it on your list to start arguing with a literal picture on the wall but here you were.

“Oh! Would you just put a can in it?” You rolled your eyes giving the man in the picture your most annoyed expression.

“I don’ know what that means.” He returned your stare with one equally as annoyed as your own, “Yankees.” He scoffed shaking his head as if he were disappointed.

“It means shut the hell up.” Glaring at him now you were in a defensive stance. You couldn’t believe you were letting an enchanted painting offend you so deeply. But you were too far into the argument to give up now. All the other eyes in the room were on the two of you going back and forth.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A male voice from behind you made your blood run cold. That was certainly the last thing you were expecting. Who in the hell was in the castle that knew your last name? Spinning around on your heal you observed an older wizard giving you a curious glance.

“That’s me.” You confirmed giving him a once over. Tall. Long white beard. Kind eyes. It had to have been Dumbledore. Your father was… obsessed with the man to say the least. He never shut up about the great wizard.

He nodded taking a step towards you, “Were you arguing with Sampson?” He peered behind you shaking his head at the man in the painting.

“Well, yes. I was. If that’s Sampson.” You didn’t elaborate any further pointing to the painting behind you.

He nodded cracking a small smile, “Might I ask why?”

You shrugged, “He was making fun of me for watching the stairs. They’re rad. We didn’t have anything like this at school.” You looked up admiring how they all effortlessly moved locking into place. Hogwarts was so much grander than Ilvermorny, something you didn’t really expect. Nobody ever seemed to talk about the nice the castle was when they came home.

The old wizard laughed, “Rad?” He questioned your vernacular.

You groaned realizing that these students probably didn’t talk like you were used to, “Please don’t tell me I have to learn a whole new language on top of having to meet an entirely new group of people tomorrow.” It stressed you out a little thinking about it. You were used to you American vernacular and slang, not whatever they said over here.

“On the contraire Y/N. You may just be ahead of times. I don’t know what the students are saying these days anyway.” He sounded like any other older person with that statement bringing out grin onto your face.

You questioned him for being so blasé about the whole thing, “How do you know my name?”

“That’s my job.” He smiled sweetly at you before continuing on the walk he happened to be on prior to stumbling on you arguing with the picture. You decided he wasn’t getting away that easy and followed being him quickly, “Which is?” You knew. But you wanted him to tell you. Just to confirm it.

He peaked behind him seeing you following him intently, “Headmaster…”

“Dumbledore.” You cut him off. You wouldn’t normally be so brash with somebody let alone the headmaster of the school, but you were already very comfortable around him for some reason. You knew he wasn’t going to be mad at you for doing so.

He nodded pausing to let you catch up, “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you sir. I’m… excited to be here.” You stuttered a bit.

He smiled, “I may be old, but I can still spot a lie from a mile away. I believe you may grow to like this place. Now, I’m off. Get some rest.” He walked away without saying anything further. How odd. You’d heard that he was a bit different. You’d wish your dad would have detailed that a bit further for you.

You took his advice, attempting to find your way back to the common room was comical but you found it eventually. Not realizing how tired you were your eyes closed almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. A dreamless sleep took over not giving you the chance to prepare for the next day.

“Okay!” Lily smiled right at you, “The girls are here but they went straight to the dining hall. They promised to save us some seats.” She waited by the door for you. You paused looking at yourself in the mirror. It was now or never. You’d met a few other Gryffindor’s but tried to simply stay out of the way, “Come on, you look beautiful.” She nodded holding the dorm room door open for you.

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” You nodded slightly before following her quickly out the dorm and down to the common room. The two of you walked quickly, blowing right by a group of boys who seemed to be very close in age to you.

“Evans!” Lily groaned hearing a voice call from behind her. She had such a peaceful summer without James Potter. But he’d found her in record time this year. She paused. Before you could even register what was going on you smacked right into her back. It wasn’t really your fault you didn’t know it was her last name and the boy was calling for her. If you’d have known that you might’ve slowed down a bit.

“Sorry.” You groaned holding her steady by the shoulders, keeping her from falling over backwards.

“It’s okay.” She smiled at you before moving in front of you. Her smile downturned quickly as the group approached the two of you.

“And a gorgeous new girl.” The one with long dark hair stated looking right at you. Staring so deeply it almost made you uncomfortable. Like he was trying to peer into your entity. Trying to discover you through such a simple look.

“Sirius!” The tall one with light brown hair punched him in the shoulder, “Be quiet for once.”

Sirius shrugged, “Call it like I see it. Absolutely ravishing.” His gaze darkened a shade taking you in. Eyes raking up and down made you feel exposed in the black robes. Suddenly you missed your blue robes you’d gotten used to at Ilvermorny. The look was more intimidating than you would’ve liked. He was handsome that was for sure. But the looks were already too much for you to handle.

“Anyway,” James looked annoyed at Sirius before turning back to Lily not letting you get a response in before he turned the conversation back to where he wanted it, “How was your summer, Lily?”

“It was great. Without you.” Her seemingly sweet exterior was so viscerally annoyed by him your eyes went wide hearing that response. Sure, you’d only known her for a few hours but it didn’t seem like she had it in her.

James let the insult roll right off. He was used to it. He was growing tired of it by now. He’d been trying for years at this rate. The gig was running up on his accord, “And yours?” He turned his attention towards you. The new Gryffindor girl.

“Honestly, not so great.” You knew you weren’t the best liar. It was better to be honest. You’d learned that early in life after countless failures at trying to lie.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised as he listened, “An American?”

It was now or never, “You’re so observant. What gave it away?” With a surge of confidence, you answered his question with one of your own.

The one with unruly brown hair and the cutest round glasses started laughing, loudly, at that, “I like you.” He appreciated when people could throw it back in Sirius’ face. It wasn’t often someone could go toe to toe with him. You seemed up for the challenge though.

He scrunched his nose up a bit apparently a little offended by your own question, rolling his eyes in defeat at the same time.

“No, you don’t.” Lily shook her head grabbing your hand in preparation of pulling you away, “The girls are waiting. Let’s go Y/N.”

You nodded, “Nice to meet you four.” You tried waving to them, but she pulled you away almost the second you spoke.

“Likewise stranger.” The one that originally called for Lily yelled out to you. The cute one with the adorably messy hair and way to cute glasses.

“Who was that?” You asked after she slowed down outside the common room.

She shook her head urgently, “Bad news. Stay away from him. That entire group. Remus is the only decent one. But look at the company he keeps, so who knows.” She sighed leading you towards the dining hall. Each time you made it out of the common room you picked up a little bit more of the castle. It was still an enormous living maze, but you were slowly getting there.

“Alright.” You nodded along continuing to follow her along. You took the seat across from her ignoring all the stares you were receiving from all the different tables. You were the new girl. It was to be expected. It all still felt so foreign to you. The colors were much different to start. The castle was much grander. Everything was the same but so slightly different.

“You made it! And you brought a new friend.” She turned towards you, “I’m Marlene.”

“And I’m Mary.” The pretty girl sitting next to Lily introduced herself.

“Hi.” You nodded to each girl, “Nice to meet you both.” You wanted to implode in on yourself after seeing the curious glances each girl tossed Lily.

“Oh, you’ve got to tell us how you ended up here.” Marlene squeezed your arm immediately once hearing your accent, a detail Lily had left out when she told them there was a new sixth year transfer.

That’s how you became quick friends with a few of the girls you were sharing a room with, by divulging your life story. They were attentive listeners and even better at asking questions as they learned about you. You were only interrupted when the four boys from earlier found seats next to you and Lily. The one who was trying to grab her attention earlier, the brown haired one, sat next to Lily and Sirius sat down next to you.

“Lily! Y/N. So glad we ran into you.” James grinned attempting to scoot closer to Lily who was having none of it.

“What are we then James?” Marlene stared at the boy who you didn’t have a name for yet for excusing her and Mary in the hello’s.

He wanted to roll his eyes but stopped short. It was always best to stay on her good side though, “Marlene, Mary.” He nodded acknowledging there presence as well, “Have a nice summer holiday?” He asked Marlene who just rolled her eyes in response.

“We don’t want your pity questions James.” She turned back towards Mary. A small smile crossed your lips as you observed the interaction between what you assumed to be old friends. You looked back over to Lily who didn’t look so thrilled to be interrupted by the group, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown not so happily across her face.

“And I don’t really want you here Potter.” She spat out his last name. You made a note to ask her about this later. She really seemed to dislike him.

“Ouch.” Sirius tried defending his friend by deflecting the conversation back to him.

“Oh, you always have something to say!” Lily was visibly frustrated now. You weren’t quite sure what to do either. The two groups clearly having some sort of history that you weren’t privy too, yet. You couldn’t wait to grill them tonight like they just grilled you about your own life.

“Let’s just go.” The shier one from earlier stood, “James you have all year to annoy Lily. Sirius you have the same to flirt with Y/N.”

Sirius grinned standing next to his friend, “It won’t even take a month. Give me more credit than that.” He countered making sure to wink right at you. You were more shocked than disgusted. American boys were straight forward but nothing quite like this. This was right in your face kind of flirting.

Your eyebrows were surely raised in visible surprise by now. He might’ve been the hottest guy you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but his personality was something left to be desired. You decided to take on the confident American route. It was either that or get eaten alive by him, “You’d be so lucky.” Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to Lily and the group. That wasn’t before you caught the sly grin spreading across James’ face.

“I’m telling you both!” Marlene laughed as you, her, and Lily walked to potions together. Luckily you and Lily had nearly identical schedules. You were sure McGonagall had something to do with it, but she just brushed it off. You were utterly thankful for the so-called coincidence though. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it around without her. The castle being over a thousand years older than Ilvermorny truly made Howards feel like a gigantic maze you were never going to figure out.

“Alright,” Lily laughed feeling the warmth radiate from Marlene. For as snappy as Marlene was she was truly one of the kindest people you’d met, “say Remus really does like Dorcas… what do we do?”

You shook your head, “Nothing. Nothing good happens when you meddle in between two people!” You warned the both of them. Marlene had heard a rumor that Dorcas was interested in Remus and Remus was very interested in her. She wanted to do something about it, of course. Finding the two of them too shy to make any moves. But you knew better, that would never end well.

“That’s no fun Y/N.” Marlene visibly pouted trying to make you feel a little bad. It wasn’t going to work on you though. You were the queen of doing shit like this.

You laughed to your new friends, “Go for it then. Gives me something to watch.” Eyebrows raised as if to challenge them you only laughed harder seeing Marlene’s shocked expression.

Both girls joined in your laughter as the group made its way down to the potions classroom. Potions wasn’t your least favorite class but it’s not like you enjoyed it. It never really came that naturally to you like it did so many other students. Your favorite class, almost like anybody at Ilvermorny would say, was charms. Unfortunately, you couldn’t take that all day, or you would.

The three of you continued chatting until something wet, sticky, and far too gooey dropped onto all three of your heads. Marlene gasped as she started trying anything to get the disgusting smelling goo off of her. Lily started yelling that James and his stupid boy group was behind it. You were a little too stunned to speak. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, and this so-called prank came out of nowhere completely taking you off guard. You’d never felt so… exposed?

You heard the snickers of Sirius and the one you’d learned was named Peter up ahead. James wasn’t to be seen and Remus looked almost apologetic. Like he couldn’t stop them but needed to supervise his friends. You had a feeling the two of you would be fast friends.

Taking out your wand you knew the charm that would do the trick. Whispering out a soft, ‘skurge’ holding your wand out to Marlene who was more in a fit of rage than in any state of trying to figure out who had done it. She shot you a thanks when she realized you were the one who used a charm to clean her up. Once she was cleaned up you cast the same spell at Lily who gave you a thumbs up before taking off to go yell at the boys who had the audacity to do that to them.

You probably should’ve cleaned yourself up before taking a step, but you weren’t really thinking all that clearly. Unlucky for you the goo had seeped down your robe and onto the stone all around you. Being as clumsy as you were you stepped right into the slippery stuff. Your legs slipped out behind you. Before anybody could even react your head contacted the stone stairway behind you knocking you nearly unconscious. Your eyes opened quickly. Placing a hand behind your head you hazily remembered what just occurred.

“Oh, shit.” Sirius knew he was in trouble when you didn’t immediately stand up.

Lily’s face went a little pale. Marlene stepped back. Remus was the only one who seemed to come to his senses enough to react. Quickly, he walked over to you whispering another charm to close up the back of your head. He might not be able to fix the internal damage, but he’d be damned if he let your head continue to bleed.

“What happened?” James asked looking at the scene before him in confusion. He decided on taking the morning to train for quidditch on the pitch with his captain. He was a good chaser. But he wanted to be remembered for being great. He knew he needed to put in the time so that’s he worked it in. Before class. Between it and after it. He was still working on the whole timing thing though. He didn’t mean to be late, he just forgot to set the timer.

Sirius took a step forward before shyly looking away from him, “She slipped. It was an accident.” He didn’t want to elaborate. The angry look already evident on his friends face. Remus helped you to your feet making sure you could actually stand before taking a step back.

“Slipped on what Sirius?” James looked mad. Like he wanted to punch Sirius right in the face. Both Lily and Marlene watched the interaction curiously. He’d only shown that level of protection over Lily before. Had all her years of pushing him away actually worked? Was Lily actually free of James Potter’s advances? Was it at a cost to you? Sirius looked away like a puppy being scolded for doing something it knows not to.

“That goo we made the other night.” It wasn’t often that James yelled at Sirius for a prank. More often than not he was egging him right along. Remus was the one who stopped a majority of their pranks. He let the more innocent ones go. He thought this one was going to be innocent enough.

James was more than angry. They talked about it literally last night. Lily was off limits. You were off limits until they either got to know you better or you pranked them first. James didn’t want to admit how intrigued you made him in just the two short interactions you’d had. That same possessive nature came out when he saw you on the ground holding the back of your head with blood running down in.

James rolled his eyes at his best friend. He’d have it in for him tonight. But for now, he was more concerned with the delirious gaze your eyes seemed to have held. It’s like you were there but you weren’t. James knew that expression. He’d seen countless teammates and himself in that state after a bludger or bat knocked them off their brooms. You’d be fine but it should never have happened. That’s why he was upset.

“Remus, tell Professor Slughorn what happened. I’ll take her to the hospital wing. They should know what to do.” He took one of your hands in his. You weren’t feeling too great at this point. It looked like there were at least three versions of himself in your vision. It was hard to even focus on James’ face in front of you.

Remus’ eyes shot up in surprise. James wasn’t usually the first one that sprung to action. Certainly not for somebody he’d just met to boot, “Alright.” He watched him curiously for a moment before turning to the rest of the group who were all watching just as questioningly. James wasn’t like this. He was the pompous asshole usually standing tall next to Sirius.

James turned his attention back to you and the gash on the back of your head. He nodded in approvement of Remus’s ability to heal. It was usually him or Sirius doing the healing, not Remus. This too was a change.

“Can you walk love?” He asked squeezing your hand gently after turning away from his friends. Remus made sure to usher them into the classroom no matter how bad they all wanted to watch the strange scene before them. It was so seemingly out of character for James.

Turning your head towards him you winced feeling the extent of how hard your head really hit that step, “Hmm?” You heard him but you didn’t really hear what he had said.

When he asked again you tried to form words in your head but was seeming to come up just short. Only seemingly to be able to nod or mumble out responses. You might’ve hit your head harder than you thought. How wild was it to be able to comprehend but not able to communicate back.

“Okay.” He frowned trying to pull you but not being able to get far before your legs wanted to give out. He sighed turning back towards you, “I’m going to have to pick you up now. Is that alright?”

Nodding your head was all he was going to get out of you at this point. You were starting to fade faster than even you thought. You heard a faint, “I’m so sorry, I told him not to.” Before you brain decided it needed you knocked out.

“Ahh, Miss Y/L/N. You’re awake.” You heard the healer speak before your eyes were even open. It always amazed you that they seemed to know your status before even you did. Sucking in a sharp breath you felt the back of your head with a dull throb, “Drink this.” She handed you a cup of dark nasty smelling liquid.

You tossed it back trying not to gag on the medicine. You never questioned what they gave you because it was always beneficial. But it always tasted like shit. No matter what it was it tasted like your least favorite food multiplied by a hundred.

“Yeah, guess I am.” You opened your eyes again slower this time, glancing at your surroundings. You’d expected to see many places in your first week here, but the hospital wing was certainly not one.

“Knocked your head there pretty good, yeah?” The woman smiled standing next to you, “You’ll feel a little fuzzy for the next few hours before the potion kicks in. Mr. Potter here offered to watch over you for the afternoon.” She smirked at you blocking his view. Like she knew something you didn’t.

“Sure.” You nodded your head gently. You were surely going to have to find a good, albeit less painful, stunt to pull back on Sirius. Because this whole thing was too embarrassing when you thought about it. You were already the school gossip that was slowly dying down now it was all going to be reignited after this whole thing.

“Very well.” Her thick Irish accent made it almost impossible for you to understand, “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you.” Pushing yourself up you took a moment to get your bearings straight.

James stood out of his chair quickly walking over to your side, “Easy now love.”

You laughed more to yourself than him, “I thought that was just a rumor.” You mumbled. He gave you a confused expression as if ready to call the healer back over, “The love thing.”

He offered his hand for you to take. Without even thinking you took his offer using him to balance as you stood on your feet. You felt the potion kicking in as the fuzziness began to fade slowly. You always thanked your lucky stars that you were born as a wizard and not a no-maj. You’d have probably killed yourself from how clumsy you were.

James smiled, understanding your comment, “Does it make you uncomfortable?” He asked. You thought for a moment before breaking out into a smile of your own. Had a guy ever been so thoughtful before? He asked for permission before touching you, asked if his words were too much. You needed to be careful before you got yourself into too much trouble. Your thoughts wandering too far. There was deep history there with one of your newest friends. You didn’t want to mess anything up with that either.

You shook your head, regretting it almost instantly, “Not at all. I think it’s cute.” Your filter was clearly gone with the potion working its magic.

“Cute?” James smiled taking your hand in his.

“Cute.” You reaffirmed hoping he’d let it go and not tease you too incessantly about it.

James made a mental note of it before changing the conversation. He’d agreed to make sure you were in good hands. He’d happily skip class at the doctor’s orders. At least he had a very valid excuse, “Come on, let’s get you back to the common room.”

You agreed with a hum, “Sounds like a plan, Stan.” You grinned goofily following in his footsteps quickly. He wouldn’t let you fall too far behind with his hands still in yours.

James shook his head while half-way puling you along, “I knew that rumor was true.”

“Which one?”

He paused, smiling to himself, “That Americans are really strange.”

A shocked but goofy expression came to you, “I’m hereby offended for all Americans with a comment like that James Potter.”

He shrugged continuing the small trek back to the Gryffindor common room, “Have you tried not being strange, love?” James was having a little too much fun now. Knowing he was crossing the line between friendly and concerned to one of a much flirtier nature. Conversations with Lily were always negative and ended up being too exhausting. All the while he found himself drawn to you just by short conversation he’s shared with you. He quickly came to admire the quick-witted nature about you. How sure you carried yourself for being thrown in the situation you had been in.

As nervous as you were to spend the whole afternoon with James there was nothing to worry about. The conversation came so easily between the two of you. It was almost as if two old friends were reconnecting after not seeing the other for a while. The two of you having more in common than you would’ve thought. Both of you not having any siblings but coming from a very rigid but loving home. Both of you having to move around for your dad’s jobs. Your father being in the government while his you learned created a hair product that was becoming rather successful uprooting their family from normalcy.

He even went on to explain his and Lily’s relationship, or lack thereof one. He admitted all the faults he’d made throughout the years and how he actually started trying to mend the relationship last year, but she wasn’t buying it.

“I think you should keep trying.” You encouraged him, “At least to just be friends. I know I don’t know her like the other girls do but she’s really a great person. I’m sure she’s got a soft spot for you somewhere.” You nudged him. The two of you had started on opposite ends of the couch but had slowly migrated closer together. Neither of you caring about the curious looks you were getting from each and every Gryffindor student grades one through seven that passed by.  

He nodded letting out a sigh, “I’ll keep trying. She doesn’t make it very easy.” He laughed with a sad look in his eye, “Enough about her. How are you feeling?” He’d noticed how your eyes had gotten progressively more tired throughout the afternoon. The potion must’ve been wearing off. No matter what it seemed to be it always left the recipient tired after a certain amount of time.

James looked at the clock closing in on five. He knew the guys would be meeting in the cafeteria. He’d all but abandoned them today. But they had to have known. As gross as it was to admit he was almost thankful everything went down. He’d gotten to spend time with the new girl who’d immediately grabbed his attention. It scared him how quickly you swooped in and stole his focus away from Lily.

Lily noticed immediately. Instead of pestering her throughout class he started going for you. She bit her tongue when she saw him toss you a note charming it to unfold when Professor McGonagall looked away. Lily would’ve immediately crumpled it up and tossed it back to him. You smiled from ear to ear seeing the sweet little note sent your way. Scribbling back a reply quickly to him you tossed it as soon as McGonagall turned away again. She didn’t know how to feel about the change. She wasn’t sad or jealous. She really didn’t want him. She missed the attention a little. You were now getting it all. She couldn’t blame him though. He’d been trying for years. He finally got the hint.

You definitely welcomed the attention. It felt good. Refreshing. Sirius backed off immediately getting the not-so-subtle hints from James. James had decided he was going to get to know you. He was going to do it the right way. Get to know you, become a friend and then hopefully more. He’d never expected this. He had every intention of pursuing Lily when he got back to school but then you showed up. He found you absolutely fascinating and just downright adorable.

“I’m good. Just a little tired.” You admitted after not being able to stop the yawn from coming.

He nodded, “Why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll tell one of the girls to bring you back some dinner. I’d help you upstairs, but those stairs are charmed.” He smiled knowing he’s tried damn near everything to break the charm. Turns out old wizards are better at magic than he was.

It started slow. With those notes that Lily noticed. Then it progressed to cute little lunch dates away from the group. James made sure that you attended his quidditch matches throughout the beginning of the school year. He knew if you were there he’d play better. He wanted to impress you. And impress you he did. He was everywhere out on the pitch. Playing out of his damn mind every time the ball came his way. After a few quick weeks of small gestures, he’d finally got the courage to ask you out on a real date, a dinner date away from the dining hall and prying eyes. He’d promised a candlelight picnic up in the astronomy tour since the sun set so early in the night.

He'd delivered on his promise, big time. You’d gasped lightly when you saw what looked like thousands of white candles all over the top of the tower with a small picnic set up in the middle. Roses, your favorite flower, as décor and all.

“James, wow.” You took it all in walking around the footpath he had made. You were sure he’d found a spell or something, but it was always the thought that counted. He’d actually listened to you. For the first time in forever a guy listened to what you liked and what you wanted and then executed on those wishes. How were you not going to absolutely give this guy a shot? You’d felt a little bad taking him away from Lily, but she gave you her full blessing. She started dating a handsome seventh year not long after James’s interest in her had almost completely vanished as it shifted towards you.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he watched you take it all it, “Hopefully you like it.” He looked at you with a hopeful expression.

You stopped before abruptly walking towards him giggling to yourself, “Do I like it? James Potter this is incredible. I love it. It’s everything and more.”

He sighed in relief suddenly feeling so much more confident, “Oh, that’s a relief. I’ve never done anything like this.”

Your smile was one that could really light up a room. Especially since you were already so smitten with the unruly haired man, “I would’ve never have known. It’s beautiful. Thank you James.” You hugged him quickly. Giving his lips a brief flash before you squeezed his torso into your own. It’s crazy how much you’d grown to care for the boy over the last three or so weeks of knowing him.

You grew to care for his insane friends too. Sirius ended up apologizing. While things started rocky the two of you quickly became scheming buddies. Remus tried his best to stop the two of you but often came up short. He was able to stop one mischievous mind but three altogether? There wasn’t a chance. Lucky for them you were clever and often thought your way out of the problems that always inevitably rose. You’d help them avoid detention for the last two weeks which was almost unheard of for them.

When you weren’t with Sirius you were studying with Remus. You had a lot of different small things to catch up on. Thankfully Remus offered to help knowing how difficult it all probably was. Especially since he knew James was after you now. Making it official to the guys the previous night before bed. Oh, how quickly the heart can change when it needs to.

He decided to throw caution to the wind as he wrapped his arms fully around you, thoroughly enjoying the height different between you. He kissed the top of your head before resting on it gently, still holding you close, “Anything for you.”

You hummed holding him peacefully. Luckily for you the usually gray Scottish sky decided to clear up for you this fine autumn evening. After a moment you pulled away, “I’m starving.” You admitted before you heard a rumble in your stomach you were sure James heard.

The laughter that left his lips confirmed your fear, oh well, “Let’s eat. I had a few of the house elves from the kitchens pack this up, so it should be good.” He let you walk ahead. He followed close behind you though. Making sure to keep his hand around your waist in the process.

“Really?” You asked curiously sitting down next to the basket in the spot he had made, “How’d you pull that off?”

He shrugged, “I know a lot of secrets about this castle. I can teach you sometime.” His goofy grin pulled yours right out alongside his. He was so handsome as the candlelight lit up his features with the moon behind him.

You nodded while memorizing his features in this rare light, “I’d love that James. I really would.” You wanted to give him all of the confidence he usually had. Of course, you found it adorable he had gotten so nervous. But you truly were starting to fall in love with the chatty James. The unashamed to be himself James.

You were nervous too though. You’d never had a boy care enough to go to such lengths. It made you horrifically nervous that you’d mess it all up, say the wrong thing at the wrong time. You knew better than to stress about it. It was too easy to spiral when those thoughts would never even cross James’ mind. You needed to relax. He had feelings for a reason. He was interested in you.

“It’s a date then.” He said so casually you weren’t sure if you heard him right. But the smile on his face confirmed what you thought was true. This one had hardly started and the two of you were already setting up the next one.

It took the pressure right on off when you nodded confirming, “It’s a date.”

“How’s Saturday afternoon sound? We have practice in the morning but it’s our first Hogsmeade weekend if you wanted to come with me.” He looked nervous asking but he didn’t need to worry, not one bit.

You nodded excitedly while taking a piece of cheese off the plate, “I’d love to! Seriously, that sounds like so much fun.” You’d heard the girls talking about Hogsmeade and how fun it was to go and get away from the castle. You were planning on going with Marlene and Dorcas since Lily was going with her new fling. You weren’t too worried about telling them that you’d had a slight change of plans, they’d been pushing it surprisingly. Even after Lily rejected him for years, the group seemed much more open to the idea of you and James together.

His soft smile at your response sent your heart into a frenzy. The physical reactions you were having because of him was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Sure, you’ve been on dates and had a supposed ‘boyfriend’ but this… this was something entirely different. You didn’t feel anything that deep. Nothing like this. The effortless nature of the relationship. The desire to be always around him. The want to see his face, hear his laugh and touch his skin was growing stronger by the day at an alarming rate.

“How do you like flying?” James asked as the two of you continued to eat in a comfortable silence.

“I’ll be honest. I’m tragic at it. Never got the hang of it.” It was easier to just admit the truth than trying to hide behind a lie.

James leaned forward, eyes gazing over every point on your face. He too was admiring your beauty as the moonlight cast a soft shadow over your face. He got butterflies as he began to see a future with you. He wanted to make plans. He wanted to show you how to do things you didn’t know how to. Hell, he even wanted you to meet his parents. He was ready to dive first into this entire thing without fear. James had so much love to give and nobody to give it to. He wanted to give it to you.

“I can show you.” He spoke after the brief gaze he had given you.

Your eyes were all but sparkling by now. It amazed you that Lily was so anti-James. But you’d gotten her story and understood. Third- and Fourth-year James was a total menace to any desired peace at Hogwarts. Even James agreed to the accusations. Admitting he probably wasn’t the best person during those years.

Fortunately for you, you’d only gotten to see him at his best. He was still his goofy, fun-loving self just toned down a bit. Or a lot.

“You would?” Leaning back onto the palms of your hands you sat there an observed him. It was hard for you to believe that you’d managed to get such a handsome and fun guy to fall for you like you were him. You never found yourself to be the most desirable at Ilvermorny. All the guys seemed to go for your friends leaving you to fend for yourself. It never bothered you, just left you wanting to feel desired.

He nodded taking your hand in his, “Absolutely I would!” He grinned scooting closer to you, “Let’s do it.”

He moved as if to stand confusing you, “Now?”

He shrugged still making sure to hold your hand while he got up, “Why not?”

You looked around, “It’s dark?”

“So?” His smile was so big you began to feel the excitement that was radiating off him. Your smile slowly matched his as you thought about it some more.

“What if I fall?”

He shook his head pulling you to your feet now, “I’d never let that happen, love.” He could sense your unease as you surveyed the lands in the moonlight from the tower, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you ride with me tonight? Next time I’ll get you your own broom.”

Nodding quickly, you didn’t want to lose your courage. You trusted him. Probably more than you should. You had only known him for the better amount of three weeks. But there was something so pure and honest that you knew he was telling you the utmost truth, he’d never let you fall, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” He asked once more making sure you were actually okay with the spontaneous plan.

“Come on, let’s go before I can think of all the reasons not too.” You squeezed his hand this time to reassure him.

“I knew I liked you.” Placing a quick kiss on your cheek, to your surprise, he happily escorted you out of the castle and to the pitch where the two of you spent the next few hours flying around occasionally checking to make sure nobody was onto you. You had a certain feeling that this was going to be the start of a brand-new life for you. One filled with the utmost love and the most insane adventures. You were going to have to thank you mom for not letting you talk her out of moving you half a world away. But man, were you thankful.

Taglist: @twilightlover2007 @kayreblog

[junipers-archive]

Jelly Donut

Word Count: 510; Penelope is onto your crush on Spencer, and a jelly donut is what just might make her the matchmaker of the year

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Your voice is stubborn, filled with the unease, the unease that Penelope actually does know what she's talking about. Because if she does, if she really does know you have a massive crush on your best friend, then you are screwed.

"I just think that if you saw the way you both act around one another, than you would get it too!" She's persistent, more than you have the brain function to defend yourself against at eight in the morning persistent.

To buy yourself some time you start walking toward you office chair, taking a bite of the jelly donut in your hand. However the universe, or whoever controls it anyways, has other plans.

Because Spencer Reid is your office chair. "Oh hey Y/n!" He got a haircut. Maybe only a few inches. But you notice. It looks nice. Really nice. Too nice. Now you've got the hots while eating a jelly donut. Great.

"You're such a clutz, you know that?" You don't realize he's gotten up until you feel his thumb graze the corner of your lips, successfully wiping away what you assume had been the remains of donut powder clinging to the edges of your mouth.

"Well-Y-You're an idiot!" Because he's too close. Too damn close. For you to think. Of a better retort that is. Or at all.

He lifts his eyebrows, seemingly just as unimpressed as you and takes a step back, as you collect yourself you realize you're still in the company of a Ms. Penelope Garcia.

Her head is tilted, eyes squinted, mouth agape, then closed, then back open, like a fish, a very judgmental and very perseverent fish.

"If you just saw- what I-you would-he just-and then you!"

You pace over to her quickly, turning her around and whispering to her as quietly as possible, "That we're best friends? Penelope he only wants to be friends. That's all that we are! And-and I'm okay with that." You were so not okay with that.

But you really did believe it, the thought of rejection far too great of an obstacle for you to even consider.

But Penelope Garcia is master at obstacles.

So at that she swerves around, pointing her hot pink, manicured nail directly at the boy genius you'd fallen for. "You!"

"Me." he replies, only assuming it was another one of her jokes.

Scrunching her eyebrows and resilient as ever she then points to you. "Her!" He, nods in response.

"Date! Now!" You both flush at her words, smiling awkwardly nervously glancing around the room.

"I said. Now!" She then grabs your hand, interlocking yours and Spencers after some groveling. She's got one strong left arm.

You both voice your 'what ifs' at the same time and she rolls her eyes.

And before anyone can get another word out she's leaving quicker than you'e ever seen, only yelling back to address the situation she's left you in. "I got you half way to first base, don't mess it up! Best friends my ass." All this, just because of some stupid jelly donut.

[pablitogavii]

could you maybe do one with gavi where the reader his gf get in a fight and then she flashes him mid argument.

"Oh my God!! You are being so unreasonable right now Pablo!" you said with your hands in the air annoyed that for the last fifteen minutes you had to argue with your boyfriend about the swimsuit you choose to wear to a pool party event with players and the rest of the wags.

"Me estás volviendo loco, nena! I am not letting the whole Barcelona see your ass! Es sólo para mí!" he said and you loved how whenever he gets frustrated he would suddenly mix English and Spanish with you. It was adorable (although you were still mad at him!).

"It's a pool party! What am I supposed to wear!? Jacket and boots!?" you yell back still standing in fornt of him in your new red bikini which true was showing off a bit but you did it to get his attention anyways! Now he wanted you not to wear it!?

"You do look sexy in boots mi amor.." Pablo smirked but you were unimpressed continuing to get ready completely ignoring his sudden fussing.

"Nena I'm being serious! You are not leaving this room like that! I just know every single guy there will eye fuck you and I won't tolerate it!" he said and you were a bit amused with his growing frustration as you walked closer to him meeting his intense gaze.

"All they can do is look cariño...but only you can enjoy" you snake your arms around his neck going on your tip toes to kiss his lips hoping that by stroking his ego a bit, he will just drop this silly argument.

"They can't even look!" Pablo was growling and you rolled your eyes knowing that there is nothing that can conquer the boy's stubbornness.

"Seriously Pablo, let's just go before we are late!" you said about to slip on your dress but he took it from your hands making you groan and turn to face him once more with your hands on your hips.

"Pablitooo" you whined using his nickname in hopes of softening his stubbornness once more but it was useless as he was shaking his head.

"Fine!" you said and his eyes widened at your words asking if that meant you will listen to him.

You smirked nodding your head before slowly walking up to him undoing the strap of your swimsuit top letting it fall to the ground as he stared at your naked chest in awe.

"A..amor?" he gulped a little doing his best to keep the eye contact although it was very difficult not to get distracted by your perky breasts.

"You might have to help me pick up a different swimsuit then cariño.." you whispered into his ear gluing your naked chest against his own and he groaned feeling his swim trunks get tight as his bulge hardened.

Let's just say you were late to the party after all ;))

[viric-dreams]

Reference Montage.

There's something odd about Ockham. Ockham seems cordial enough when you meet at a society soirée, or in the crowded lobby after a theatrical performance, even if Ockham seems to say very little. It's not until you get out into the crisp night air that you feel suddenly awake and refreshed, and the haziness of your encounter truly sets in. What were you talking about anyway? Did she say something important? Was it she? Or maybe it was he... you seemed to have known at the time. The longer you think on the encounter, the more nonsensical it seems. What did Ockham even look like? Your memory of him... them(?)... doesn't seem right, like trying to remember a dream... Perhaps it's best not to think too hard.

Though it would be many months before Ockham himherthemself would catch wind of it, Ockham is not the original sailor who fell into the mirrored surface of the sea, but rather his Parabolan reflection, and an amalgamation of memories and identity from both the original, as well as many from the Fingerkings in possession of said body for the better part of a century. Something like this is not unheard of in Parabola, but a creature native to the Is-Not should not have been able to escape to the Is.

The transition is not seamless. Ockham seems to give off significant viric radiation when outside of Parabola, and it tends to affect anyone who tries to interact with himherthem.

Ockham did eventually manage to track down the body of the Original, still possessed by Fingerkings. The interaction did not go well. This has left Ockham at something of a loss at what to do about it, that would not endanger hishertheir existence. Ockham wants some sort of revenge on the Cacophony, but cannot risk their retaliation to hishertheir counterpart, due to the very real risk that it would affect himherthem too. Expelling the Fingerkings, however, might also have negative effects, should the majority of hishertheir memories then return to their original host. It's a quandary.

-

Ockham speaks several languages (primarily Flemish and French, but also German and to a lesser extent Spanish and Portuguese). English falls near the middle of this range, though it's not a language that Ockham willingly learned or has any interest in improving (courtesy of being impressed into the Royal Navy, and now living in London). It's a language heshethey's been forced to use, and Ockham refuses to respect it. As a result, there is a very large gap between what Ockham might think, versus what heshethey would actually say aloud (this is partially due to linguistic difficulties, but also because Ockham doesn't often feel the need to voice most of hishertheir thoughts).

Ockham is very blunt and direct. Heshethey doesn't care much for etiquette rules and will cut right to the point. Ockham also finds a lot of the social stigma around certain topics in Victorian society silly, and has no compunction walking right over those taboos and discussing or acting on them. This occasionally leads to trouble.

Ockham is also stubborn, often to hishertheir own detriment. A certain degree of spitefulness also goes hand in hand with this. Ockham can and will hold very petty grudges. Heshethey can also be cruel or truly nasty at times, but never without provocation.

Heshethey is a quick judge of character, and steadfast to those who pass the vibe check, with a high breaking point for when an acquaintance would fall out of hishertheir good graces.

Ockham doesn't really have close friends. The language barrier and the difficulty being perceived don't make it easy. This doesn't bother Ockham much, since heshethey's used to and doesn't mind it. Ockham often seeks out busy spaces, just to spend time in and bask in the ambiance. Romantic encounters also often don't seem to have much depth, when some other priority inevitably catches Ockham's attention and heshethey doesn't have the time and energy to maintain an in-depth interpersonal relationship. Ockham is happy to enter a romantic or sexual relationship, as long as all parties are in accordance over its likely intermittent nature.

Ockham's clothing choices tend to favour practicality over aesthetic (practical to the mind of a working class 18th century sailor, at least), often dropping the respectable amount of layers when the weather grows too warm, without much care for the signals it sends off. Most of hishertheir clothing is in neutral colours, though heshethey is not impartial to a nice green. Ockham's hair was a long-standing point of contention with the Navy, and therefore out of principle extremely unlikely to change. Heshethey normally plaits it out of the way, though does occasionally wear it loose.

-

Ockham's original plans to work as a zailor were thrown out almost immediately after coming to the Neath. The Zee is a horrible place. There are creatures in there. Ockham set fire to hishertheir ship and has not looked back.

Though technically a Silverer, Ockham does not spend any time trying to attract clients. Most of hishertheir work nowadays is in tracking creatures in Parabola and collecting bounties for them. Ockham's also considering expanding into Parabolan imports and exports.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Like No One Does

Part 3: Take Me By The Hand

The pitiful image was burned into your mind, the statement that was such an anxiety producing point in your life. The account number that was on the top of the statement might have well been ash and dust—there was no need for it to be as mocking as it was. The bare bones of your bank account had rendered a familiar feeling of you struggling to comprehend and take care of your parent's house.

At least when you weren’t in the hospital, or when you weren’t in Danah’s house pretending like you weren’t one additional bill away from being flat broke. Your parent’s terminal sickness had already been the starting point of anxiety for you, but then to add insult to injury was your extended family’s inability to care.

If it wasn’t for the Levinson’s you would’ve been homeless at 16. You were already an orphan at 16, with no extended family who cared. And adding homelessness to your decrepit standing wouldn’t have been a far fetch. But the Levinson’s, they saved your life. Danah was your best friend, Mrs. Levinson was your second mother, Mr. Levinson your second father.

And Ari…

Ari Levinson was a stronghold you didn’t know you needed, he was a stalwart support system that you didn’t deserve but received anyway.

Maybe that’s why you were so nervous as you waited for him to pick you up. You’d accepted a job offer from him to become his new assistant/secretary, and you had quit your jobs like he wanted you to. You had completely freed yourself to be his assistant and accepted a job that paid enough for you to not just survive, but thrive. This job would give you incredible benefits and health insurance that you wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise.

Of course, Ari insisted that you required more or better clothes for this job. And you couldn’t have even pretended to argue with him because you knew it was true. You had no appropriate clothes for this job, even if you hadn’t been struggling as you were, there was a certain expectation he had. Or likely had.

“Empty bank account would be better than this.” You crumbled the paper in your hands and tossed it aside, the wrinkled and discarded statement landing somewhere in your dismal place.

With it departing you by your hand, you had turned your attention to the window on your right. You had been watching the window for Ari’s vehicle, not only not wanting to keep him waiting, but knowing that this neighbourhood wasn’t the greatest. And Ari’s didn’t deserve to spend more time in this hellhole than necessary.

“You should move in with my sister, princess. Or move in with me, I’d be a good roommate.” Ari had brought up that particular argument many times over when you would talk, and every time you would let your stubbornness get in the way.

“Danah has her dance studio, and even if she didn't, I’ll be fine.” You denied Ari and you denied Danah, as often as you could.

Your bank account may have been in the red, but at least you had paid rent, insurance, and utilities for your apartment. You might not have had any money, currently, to your name, but you had necessities in your place to eat and not go hungry. However, there was the increasing desire to want more, and that desire pushed you to accept Ari’s offer.

At the very least, you would be able to pay off your parent’s medical bills easier, you’d have good health insurance, and you could save enough to move to a new place. You could potentially afford to get a newer car that didn’t seem like it was running on it’s last rusted bolts. At the very least, this job would be able to give you more of a financial pillow.

“Princess, let’s get going!” Ari’s voice filtered from the street below, and it was a look out the thin glass that made your heart race at the sight of him.

Wearing a plain white v-neck shirt with a leather jacket and a pair of dark wash jeans, he looked like a massive yet ethereally gorgeous runway model. It was unjust how attractive Ari Levinson was, and how easy you could get irritated at him—for seemingly just being beautiful.

“Don’t make me come up there!” He had leaned against the side of his car, something sleek and black, with his arms crossed over his chest. Covering his eyes was a pair of mirrored aviators, which you wouldn’t have liked on anyone else, but on him, they looked good.

Through the thin glass you waved, once, and then stepped back. You grabbed your cheap second hand purse and your phone, on the verge of breaking and couldn’t hold a charge. Once you had your things, you slipped your shoes on and left your apartment, locking the door behind you, before you headed down the stairs.

You pushed on the main door to the building and stepped onto the sidewalk, watching him watching you from across the street. Your feet carried you with purpose, and your fingers tapped against your palm in a rhythmic dance to quell your nerves.

“Baby,” Ari spoke to you, his voice deep and husky, and his blue eyes fixated on you with wholehearted anticipation, “I was about to come up and grab you. Get in the car, hertzeleh.”

You paused and looked at Ari when you were just a foot away, your neck craned to be able to look into his eyes. With his casual yet striking clothing choice and his endearing smile, it was almost impossible to understand why he was currently single. The women he had spent time with and slept with in the past had all been flings, by his account and his claims, yet none had managed to win the bachelor over.

“What does that mean?” You asked him with a soft voice, walking around the front of the vehicle to the other side and as you got into the passenger seat, you took notice of the box on the centre console.

The food distracts you from Ari not telling you what he called you, although given his track record, it must be something sweet.

“Food, sweetheart. For you.” Ari climbed into the driver’s seat and lifted the glasses from his face to set them on the dashboard. “Ma sent your favourite and I picked up coffee for you.”

“Ari, you didn’t have to.” The iced coffee sitting in the cupholder came from one of his parent’s Jewish bakeries, and it was your absolute favourite combination.

The hazelnut blend mixed with a dash of cinnamon and whipped cream was your go-to whenever you and Danah went. And as for the breakfast, you could only imagine what food Mrs. Levinson made Ari bring you.

“We have a full day ahead of us.” His cordial smile and pleasant tone were nothing new to you, nothing you hadn’t expected from him. It was only natural for Ari to be the kind of man who was firm and levelheaded, yet tough when it came to business, and a giant teddy bear when it came to family and friends.

“A full day? How long can it take to go clothes shopping?” You scoff and turn away, biting into the delicious flaky Jewish pastry. As you get a few pieces of the sugared crispy top stuck to your lips, Ari’s laugh fills the void—and his thumb brushing the pieces off sends shivers down your spine.

“Princess, your ass is mine from right now until I drop you off at your new apartment.” The sudden bombshell announcement nearly makes you choke on your food, and you find yourself sputtering to catch your breath.

You turn your head and stare at him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. You seemed completely mind blown by this revelation, although to your shock, Ari simply cups your chin and closes your mouth.

“Buckle up, hertzeleh. I mean it.” He leans away from you and his broad shoulders touch the driver's seat, and then he winks at you. “Your sass-pot ass isn’t dying today.”

“You don’t get to slide by the fact that you said new apartment, Ari Levinson.” You set the pastry down and wipe your hands, steeling your gaze.

He’s ignorant to you, or maybe just ignoring your stare and your tone. Whatever he’s doing, it doesn’t bother him and more than that he seems to smirk. Even though he’s not looking at you, and he's slipping a pair of aviator sunglasses on, you can tell he’s rather pleased with himself.

“Ari Levinson—“

“Cut the attitude, baby girl.” His smirk only grows, and he reaches out to tap your knee. “You eat first, and then we’ll talk.”

“No, we’ll talk now.” You shift in the seat to face him more head on, as far as the buckle allows, and then you tuck your chin to your chest. “What the hell are you talking about? New apartment?”

He doesn’t answer you immediately, though you doubt he’s at a loss for words. Rather, it's all part of his ploy, of his plan to control the conversation, simply because he can. After a moment, Ari finally speaks and when he does, he tips his head, conveniently stopped at a red light.

“It’s part of the contract, sweetheart.” He flashes you a grin, one that’s convinced countless women to fall into his bed—but it just annoys you.

“I didn’t sign a contract, Ari.” You enunciate his name with force, your jaw ticking as you briefly grind your teeth. “And I don’t need a new apartment.”

“It’s part of your benefits, Y/N. You don’t need to be so stubborn all the time, little bug.” Damn him and damn the way his voice eases you, regardless of how much you want to smack him. “It’s got everything you want.”

“Oh yeah? Like what? What does this new apartment have that mine doesn’t?” You want to challenge him, you want to fight with him because if he thinks he can tell you what to do with your place…

“For one, honey….” Ari’s hand reaches for yours, and he squeezes lightly, drawing out a soft huff from you. “…no one’s been shot in the building. Or stabbed.”

You roll your eyes and almost wish you could have defended the building, but you couldn’t. Truthfully, it felt like every time you went into that place, or even near it, you were risking something. You knew it yourself that you needed a new apartment, but the fact that you couldn’t afford one was holding you back.

“Ari—“ you start to protest again, finding yourself unable to raise much of an argument when his hand touches your leg. His fingers spread above your knee as he squeezes lightly—telling you nonverbally that you don’t need to be so stubborn and let him do this for you.

After a minute of silence, he speaks, like what he says would be the final nail in the coffin. “It’s in the Lexington, sweetheart.”

And you suppose it is. The Lexington was a building you’d always wanted to live in, a place inside the city that seemed to be so improper. The building itself was brick and mortar, but there were these marble-esque pillars that stood outside the front entrance. They were like guards over the building, and it had given it such an aged yet fresh feel to the place.

The apartments inside were just as beautiful as the exterior with rich dark hardwood floors, private balconies that overlooked the park. Each apartment had onsite laundry, which would’ve been a selling point on its own; however, the bathroom would’ve been your convincer.

You’d seen pictures of the bathrooms on the rental site, and you’d been amazed from the beginning. Each apartment had a large two-person soaker tub with clawfoot details and had a seamless view to the outside world. The window let in natural light that made the whole room seem otherworldly. It was a big draw to why you’d only wished to live there, meanwhile the causality of being unable to always boiled down to money.

The rent alone was more than you’d make in 6 months, and it never seemed to be in the realm of possibilities for you. The Lexington was always unreachable, it felt as far from you as the castle you’d dreamed of as a child. It was a noble or even tender dream, but it was never within any realm of reality.

“Ari, you can’t just get me an apartment, or pay for an entire new wardrobe. Or…” you wanted to continue listing off reasons why he didn’t have to spend all this money on you, or why he didn’t have to put in the effort.

You were a grown woman, and he was your best friend’s brother. He didn’t owe you anything, and you weren’t going to take advantage of his time or money. You knew the entire Levinson family was generous, they’d taken you in when you had nothing, when you had nowhere to go. But that was over now, yes Ari had offered you a job, but he didn’t owe you more.

The job was enough. The job would make you capable of paying off the debts from your parents' hospital bills and funerals. You’d be able to pay it off on your own, you didn’t need him to do anything for you.

“Ketzeleh,” he squeezes your knee again, briefly splitting his attention between the road and yourself, “I’m not asking, I’m telling.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, the irrevocable sentence unable to be retracted. You feel stupid for a minute, like a fool for saying what you had. At least until you hear Ari’s deep rumble, the husky laugh that fills any minute slip of silence.

“Ari, I mean it, I’m not sleeping with you.” You cross your arms over your chest, your lips pressed firmly together. “I’m not going to be one of those girls that falls into your bed.”

“Of course not, baby.” He removes his hand from your knee and rests it on your cheek. “You’re too strong for that, right?”

You roll your eyes and smack his hand away, huffing poignantly. You retain the silence and draw your attention back toward the pastry Ari’s mother sent for you. It remained half-unfinished during the conversation, and you pick it up again to finish it. You shift away from him back to your original position and sink your teeth into the flaky dessert, ripping a piece off.

Ari has leagues of women falling at his feet. He’s Boston’s most eligible bachelor, and no one woman has been able to hold him down. Although they’ve tried, all he seems to want to do is sleep around and have everything be temporary. You’d seen some of the women he’s messed around with, all of them beautiful and striking and modelesque.

You, on the other hand, had few relationships. You didn’t have an opportunity to have relationships, not when you were made an orphan. Not when you were saddled with a suffocating amount of debt that you had to pay off.

“Ketzeleh, look at me.” Ari had finally stopped the car, parking in a private and gated lot for a series of expensive boutiques he was taking you to. “Ketzeleh…”

You raised your head and looked his way, your eyes searching his blues. He had unbuckled and turned to face you, the car still running and the faint sound of the radio in the background. Once you had faced him, Ari had reached out and brushed a piece of the fine sugar from the pastry off your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin and his eyes were solely on you. His voice was quieter than expected yet no less husky.

“You don’t need to ask, you don’t need to feel like this is an IOU situation. This is a gift, there is nothing you have to pay back.” His husky Boston accent had drawn an illicit shiver down your spine as he slowly leaned in and kissed your forehead. The moment was tender, and you were easily distracted by the feel of his plush lips on your skin.

It felt like you were 16 again, sitting in your dark room with nothing but candlelight. It was as if Ari were comforting you again, whispering to you that everything would be okay. You felt like that 16-year-old, scared and frightened for the future.

“You’re okay,” one hand wove into your hair at your nape while the other cupped your cheek, “you’ll be okay.”

[slickfordain]

“Fontaine is coming out!”

Me: 😦😀😚🥰🦥 (rip storage)

GN!readerxNeuvillette, mentions of detailed gore, Yandere-themed, based off of Veil manga (EmmaxAlexander)

“Rest, my dear, you must be feeling ill.”

Neuvillette— a man known for punishment and laws, a man who would do anything to keep his beloved safe— which is, fortunately, you. [Name] [Last name], a member in Fontaine— a lovely little fellow who’d just sit back and relax, eating biscuits and make yourself look beautiful/handsome (or just pretty if you prefer). And, dear me do I say, Neuvillette is completely smitten by you as much as he’d love to deny it.

He was in your soft cozy bedroom where you owned some few fairy lights dangling above the ceiling, with Neuvillette and you sitting on top of the bed in the middle— the older man brushing your [Hair color] hair gently. (Doesn’t matter if your hair is short— he’ll brush it anyway-)

“I’m fine, Neuvillette… I didn’t fall down the stairs like last time..” You mumbled out, trying to convince your best friend that it was all well— even though, you’ve caught feelings for him. It was mutual pining, and it was adorable how close you two were, even if nobody knew that… Everyone just assumed you were a stranger to Neuvillette, but behind closed doors, he’s quite a gentleman and very soft with you.

Neuvillette sighs, scoffing a bit, because you’re always saying your fine— but recently you just almost died by being in the way of a robot who was speeding it’s way, so he can’t say you’re fine. “You do realize you followed a stranger last time.. Hm? And what about you having troubles with money and debt? You know I could just pay it off for you.” The male exclaims, suggesting it’s better to just leave everything to him rather than you going outside again. He refuses to let you out.

He might as well lock you up, if that were the very case.

You just softly pouted, furrowing your eyebrows slightly considering he did have a point— but you were too stubborn to admit your embarrassing moments to him, even if you both are best friends. “It was an accident…. Neuvillette, you’re too humble for me… I feel like I owe you something..” Neuvillette had a light chuckle at the moment you said that, and shakes his head before his silk-like long fingers trails and strokes your hair just a bit.

However…. His face soon darkens.. He did remember about Furina getting personally close to you… And that damn Fatui, Arlecchino, having her own personal favoritism towards you. It was overwhelming, and stressing— even. Neuvillette didn’t want you to be exposed, but it ends up with everyone in Fontaine knowing your very existence when they shouldn’t.

“…” He was silent for a moment, but there was a mere smirk being visible on his face— but you couldn’t see because your back is turned, and because he’s doing your hair nicely.

“You owe me nothing, darling. All I’m asking of you, is to sit here, in this very room… And do nothing.” He confirms, nodding slowly at his own words that he commented out. “That is all I’ll ever ask of you. After all, I know how weak you are…. You almost died by a ruin guard, after all.” Your body froze a little, a bit terrified by the very memory…

…

You think maybe he’s right…. But you also want to buy biscuits for yourself— but it’s fine with just soup if it meant for you to not injure yourself again… So, you complied with his request. “… Alright… I’ll stay..” You agreed, much to his amusement before he stops brushing your hair. He soon touches your arms very softly, slowly…. “How about I do your skin-care routine?” He suggests, again. “I know how much you care about having a fine smooth skin…” And he adores your [Skin color] skin. It’s so soft to touch… It’s so mesmerizing.

You smiled, glancing up at him to see he has his neutral face on— only because he can’t reveal his true intentions you’re unaware of. “I’d love that very much…” You confirmed. “After all, I have to meet up with Navia later… She says she has some important questions for me, so I might as well head off and come back later..”

Neuvillette darkened his face again, at that comment. He knew of Navia— and knows of her informations and what she’s about… Of course, she’d take a liking to you because you’re a very lovely sweet person to chat with.. It’s also no wonder why Furina doesn’t bother you at all despite that she’s a brat herself.

Sure, you two were just best friends… But he had bonded with you so much he got a little too attached to you.. You’re just… Dangerously gorgeous, it’s hard to keep himself off of you when he tries.

“Navia, huh…? Might I ask, where is she now? When is this meeting starting?” He asks, trying to sound curious than possessive— because he knows that it might scare you of. (It doesn’t but this mf doesn’t believe it)

You hum to yourself, trying to figure out as you gaze up at the ceiling just a tiny bit. “… I think it was in 10 minutes or something…” “Then, we must get straight to the skin-care routine. Come on now, I’ll take care of you.” Neuvillette motions for you to turn around, and so you did…

There were further darker intentions Neuvillette wanted to do at that very moment to Navia. Either decapitate her as a public execution, rip her guts and organs out— probably donate her heart to someone else, or… He could tie her up to a chair and cut her fingers off one by one, and feed them to the Hilichurls or Mitachurls… Maybe cut off her limbs and throw them to the oceans, in hopes a shark would appear to eat her.

Yes, he might just do that.

But for now, he takes the moment to appreciate your smooth-like skin, and tries hiding the fact he wanted nothing more but to pluck Arlecchino’s eyes as well. Who knows? He might have to get rid of everyone else, before it’s too late.

Neuvillette my beloved<3

[coneyislandbabey]

i'd have you anytime. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: profanity, some violence, billy being billy

SYNOPSIS: You don't expect something to bloom between you and the drummer of your brothers' band, and when it does, the two of you try (and fail) to keep it a secret. word count: 5,107

NOTES: This was written for this request! Also sorry, it's quite a bit longer than usual! Hope it's okay and y'all like it

Graham Dunne: She’s always been stubborn, you know. When she got it in her head that something was gonna go a certain way, it almost always did. 

Billy Dunne: I told her to stay home. [Laughs] I should have known she wasn’t going to listen but… I really thought that it would be better for her, in the long run. Life would be more stable for her if she stayed in Pittsburgh. 

Y/N Dunne: I didn’t know jack shit about making music, but I’d be damned if I let my brothers leave me in the dust in Pittsburgh while they made new lives for themselves out in California. 

The sun hadn’t even risen yet by the time your suitcase was packed and you were sitting on the front steps of your house, gazing out at your empty street with tired eyes. Your older brothers, Billy and Graham, were planning to leave for Los Angeles with the rest of their band that morning, and Billy had made it very clear that you weren’t invited. After you had gotten over your initial fury and composed yourself, you began to plan. If you were ready to go by the time Warren came to pick them up, you figured you had a good enough chance of weaseling your way into the van before your brothers noticed, or pulling out all stops in your pouting ‘but-I’m-your-baby-sister’ routine and guilting them into changing their minds. Whatever happened, you would be in that van on your way to California with them. 

By the time the sun had risen and the two of them came through the front door, lugging their bags with them, you were practically falling asleep on the concrete. You jumped to your feet when you heard the door, whipping around to face them with a defiant and defensive look. Billy dropped his suitcase and crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth a grim line. 

“What are you doing out here, (y/n)?” he asked, though the tone of his voice suggested that he already knew your answer. 

“I’m coming with you,” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest in a mimicry of his stance. 

“We’ve already been over this,” he sighed. “You’re not coming.”

“And why not? And don’t give me a bullshit answer, Billy.”

“You’re not in the band, you’re– you’re young, there’s no reason to uproot you–”

“Stop acting like I’m a baby! I’m ten fucking months younger than Graham, I’m not five,” you cut him off, growing angry. 

“Still! It’s not like we’re going for fun,” Billy tried. 

“Oh fuck off, you might be going for your career but you’re going for fun just as much,” you rolled your eyes. Turning to Graham, you said, “C’mon, Teddy Graham, don’t you want me around?” 

Graham opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a few moments as his eyes darted between the two of you, clearly struggling for what to say. Eventually, he landed on, “I don’t see the problem, Billy. I mean, besides the band, the three of us have done everything together. Why not this?”

Billy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He worked his jaw, mulling it over. “Fine. Fine. You can come, but if you give me even one reason, I’ll send you back home to mom.” 

You grinned, running up the steps and pulling both of them into a hug. “You’d miss me too much if you didn’t bring me, anyway!”

Graham Dunne: Me? I never could say no to her. I would try sometimes, and she’d turn those eyes on me, and I’d be doing whatever she asked before I even realized I had given in. [Shrugs] She’s my baby sister, I always want her to be happy. 

When Warren rolled up to the curb a short while later, he and Eddie seemed only mildly surprised at your presence, before they greeted you all and started talking excitedly about the road trip. You piled into the back with your brothers and Billy’s girlfriend, Camila. Once inside, Camila scooted over to sit next to you. 

“I’m really glad you’re coming,” she said, smiling. 

“Yeah?” you asked. You liked Camila, she was always nice to you, but in the time Billy had been dating her, you hadn’t gotten to know her very well yet. 

“Of course! It’ll be nice to not be the only girl there. Plus,” she said, nudging you with her shoulder. “I know they would miss you too much if you stayed behind. Billy talks about you all the time.” 

“Does he now,” you asked sarcastically. Considering how, ever since the band began, you hardly saw Billy, let alone spent any time with him, you sincerely doubted this was true. Probably Camila was just trying to be nice. 

“Yes, he does,” she insisted. “You must know you and Graham are everything to him.”

Sure felt like it when he tried to abandon me and move three thousand miles away. Instead of airing this particular grievance, you just smiled over at Camila. It didn’t matter now, what Billy had been planning to do. You were coming with them. The sting of them– well, of Billy mostly– wanting to leave you behind wasn’t important. 

That first night, you all checked into a motel somewhere outside of St. Louis, after scrounging up enough cash to get dinner at a greasy side-of-the-road diner. The crickets chirped loudly in the black night as you walked toward your room, the air heavy with the scent of pine. The feeling of things changing weighed heavy on your chest, and lifted you up all the same. You and Graham were sharing a room, Eddie and Warren in the one to your left, and Camila and Billy in the one to your right. 

After unlocking the room, Graham immediately brushed his teeth and passed out on his bed. You sat on your own bed, reading a novel by the full moonlight slipping in through the window. Sleep evaded you, making the night endless. Sighing, you closed the book and put it on the nightstand, and quietly tip-toed across the room to pilfer through your brother’s bag for his cigarettes and a lighter. Once you found what you were looking for, you creeped over to the door and slipped out into the fresh night air. 

To your surprise, someone else was already standing outside, visible only in silhouette except for the glowing orange end of their cigarette. Upon closer inspection, you could make out Warren’s unruly mass of curls. You ambled over to stand next to him, gazing out at the mostly-empty motel parking lot and the stretch of road and forest beyond it. 

“Hey,” he said around his cigarette, voice barely more than a whisper. “Need a light?” 

“Please,” you nodded, turning your face to him. Warren came close to light your cigarette, and the little orange flame illuminated his face for just a moment, warm brown eyes meeting yours cast in a flickering glow. 

“Can’t sleep,” Warren observed, and you nodded. 

“Don’t know how I could sleep on a night like this.” You felt as though, if you squinted hard enough, you were able to see Los Angeles looming on the horizon. 

Warren turned to look at you, the strange expression on his face illuminated pale and blue in the moonlight. He was looking at you like you understood something about him, something he wasn’t expecting. “I would say that I won’t sleep until we get to L.A., but I won’t sleep then, either.”

You laughed, the sound a musical harmony, joined with the nocturnal noises of the crickets and frogs. 

Warren Rojas: ‘Course I remember that night. We were finally doing it, leaving Pittsburgh and chasing the dream, man. I was outside that motel in the middle of nowhere, Missouri, smoking a cigarette and thinking shit, we’re really doing this. And she comes out in her pajamas, and I swear we were the only ones left awake in that whole town. And we’re standing there smoking together, wide awake because the future was shaping itself around us. 

Y/N Dunne: I didn’t know Warren would become important to me then. I didn’t know at all. I was just so happy to not have been left behind, to be included in any way. That night, Warren and Eddie and Los Angeles, even, they were still my brothers’ things. Not mine, not yet. 

The next morning, you situated yourself in the front passenger seat of the van before Eddie could beat you to it. Warren seemed only mildly surprised to see you sitting there, a surprise that quickly morphed into a smile and a warm good morning greeting. In the back, Graham and Billy and Eddie shouted and played music, Camila snapped pictures of them and out the windows, but you and Warren were in your own little world. He was just making conversation, sure, but he was asking about your life, about you, listening to your stories and telling his own in return when you asked. It was the first time any of your brothers’ friends had paid you any mind beyond being Billy and Graham’s little sister. 

Warren was funny, you realized. He was attentive, too, his eyes cutting from the open road to you frequently as you animatedly told him stories from the neighboring seat. He was really listening, bringing up little details of things you said hours after you said them. 

Warren Rojas: I mean, I’m embarrassed to say it now, but I’d never given her a second thought before then. She used to hang around sometimes, when the band was still practicing out of their garage. But, you know, she was their kid sister. I remembered seeing her in school, the year below us. Graham always talked about her like she was much younger than she was, like she needed protection, but she was always a spitfire. I just didn’t realize how bitchin’ she was ‘til that trip. 

(Y/N) Dunne: It took one night in L.A. for all that to culminate into something new. 

You and Warren had taken to smoking with each other every night during the trip across the country, though you’d moved on exclusively to weed after that first night. It surprised and pleased you that the two of you never seemed to run out of things to talk about. 

Late that night you got to Los Angeles, you were unpacking your clothes into your chest of drawers when Warren darkened your doorway. He had a joint in his hand and he waved it at you when you looked up, a smile on his face. 

“Join me on the deck?” he asked. 

“Of course.” You dropped the pair of jeans you were folding onto the bed. Warren offered you his elbow, and you smiled as you wound your hand through it, allowing him to lead you down the hall and out onto the deck. 

“What a fucking view,” you breathed, immediately going to the railing to gaze out at Laurel Canyon blanketed in night, the stars scattered above you like salt across a tablecloth. You turned back to Warren to see that he was smiling softly at you. He’d lit the joint, and wordlessly he brought it to your lips. 

You took a long drag before passing it back to the man. “So what’re you planning to do now that we’re here?”

“Not sure,” you shrugged. “I can’t play music, so don’t worry, I’m not trying to join the band.”

Warren laughed, shaking his head. “Would it be so bad if you wanted to?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I love my brothers, you know I do, but I can’t work with them. Not that closely anyway. For now I’m gonna look for a waitressing gig or something.”

“But when we get that record deal, you’ll be there while we record, right?” 

“Course I will, War. I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” you promised. “I’ll be watching every minute of you guys making history.” 

You passed the joint between you both again, settling into a comfortable silence as you did so. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he said after a moment, and you whipped your head around to look at him, surprised. 

“Yeah?” you asked cautiously. 

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, nerves underlying his tone. 

“So kiss me,” you shrugged. The minute the words had left your mouth, Warren surged forward, cupping your face in his calloused hands, his lips warm and solid on yours. You fisted your hands in his t-shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could. 

Warren Rojas: The consequences of us kissing were the last thing on my mind, man. All I was thinking was that I was alone with a super hot chick who understood me like nobody else did, and I would be a fool not to kiss her when I had the chance. 

(Y/N) Dunne: It didn’t hit me until later, when I was back in my room, that there even would be consequences. The first thought I had was that my brothers absolutely could not know under any circumstances. 

Things between you and Warren unfolded so easily, like they were the only natural course of events. Like the two of you were meant to come together in this way, and not God or nature or anything else could have gotten in the way of it. 

It was hard, finding time alone. You had gotten a job as a waitress at a nice, midscale Italian restaurant in Hollywood. You made really good tips, but the hours were more demanding than you had hoped for. And, of course, Warren was with the band, working hard every day. It wasn’t long after you all arrived in Los Angeles that they got their record deal, which you knew would happen, and they’d been laboring tirelessly towards its completion ever since. They had just started actually recording the thing, and you were over there sitting next to Tobias in the little soundbooth any free minute you had off. 

When you got home, most of the time all you wanted to do was fall on your bed and pass out immediately. Instead, you did your best to stay awake in your room until you were sure all of the band members had retired to their own rooms; then, you opened your bedroom door and quietly creeped across the hall to Warren’s. He always left the door open just a crack for you. 

Tonight, when you pushed open the door, Warren was sitting in his bed above the covers, wearing nothing but his boxers due to the stifling heat in the house. He was smoking a blunt and wearing a pair of wire frame glasses you’d never seen, reading something out of a copy of Rolling Stones magazine. At the soft click of the door closing behind you he looked up, shooting you a smile. 

“My girl,” he said by way of greeting, putting the magazine down next to him and opening his arms. Happily, you crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, sitting on his lap. Those muscular drummer’s arms encircled you, and you spread one palm on his bare chest, the other on his cheek as you leaned in to give him a soft kiss. He held you close, deepening the kiss before you could pull away, making you smile against his lips. 

“Missed you,” you mumbled, only pulling away just enough to get the words out. 

Warren laughed, the sound vibrating pleasantly through your own body. “You just saw me a few hours ago, mama.” 

“I know,” you sighed. “But out there, I have to act like you’re just my friend, Warren. Or, really, I have to act like you’re just my brothers’ friend who I happen to spend a lot of time with because you’re in their band. It’s tiring.” 

You didn’t realize you were pouting, your brow furrowed with your emotions, until Warren reached up and smoothed the skin between your eyebrows with his thumb. You leaned into his touch, feeling a little silly for starting to get worked up. After all, it’s not like there was anything to be done about the situation. 

“It is tiring,” he nodded. “Say the word, baby, and we can tell everyone. You know I won’t complain about being able to kiss you anytime I want.” 

You smiled at the thought, but quickly turned serious, shaking your head. “You know we can’t. My brothers would fucking flip– well, Billy would at the very least– and I don’t want to cause any drama while you guys are really getting your careers off the ground.” 

Warren Rojas: She was right, I knew she was. I mean, Billy went and proved just how right she was when he did find out. But sitting at my drum kit and trying to pretend she wasn’t right on the other side of that glass– trying to pretend I didn’t want my hands on her every free second I had was torture. 

(Y/N) Dunne: As long as I could keep our thing in its bubble, it was safe. Safe from whatever the band could say about it, whatever shit my brothers would give us. It was so good. I was afraid if it was out in the open it would change, or die, or… I don’t know. I was afraid of losing him. 

As the months wore on, the two of you grew more comfortable, and with that, bolder. You used to only freely show him affection in his bedroom or yours, where it was safe. But that changed pretty quickly. Soon enough, when Warren squeezed past you in the kitchen, his hands lingered on your waist just a second too long to be casual. He would sit on the couch next to you during movie nights, arm thrown over the back of the couch and inching closer to resting protectively on your shoulders with every passing minute. 

And then he was pausing recording sessions by saying he had to use the bathroom and pulling you into random storage closets to kiss you breathless and leaving you panting and keyed up to get back before anyone got suspicious. You got so good at sneaking around. 

You got so good that it made you careless. 

The mistake you two made might have gone unnoticed on a different day. Usually, the morning after a recording session ran late into the night, everyone slept well into the afternoon, only getting up shortly before they had to head back into the studio again. Those nights were freer for you and Warren, you could be louder or even hang out in the living room or even on the deck without much fear that anybody else would wake up and discover you. 

Usually, the two of you had one rule: don’t fall asleep with each other. There were too many variables to falling asleep in the same bed, too much risk. If you ever fell asleep in Warren’s bed, he would wake you up pressing kisses to your neck and cheek,  sleepily walking you over to your room and kissing you goodnight at the door before returning, alone, to his room. 

But this night the recording session ran so late that you were both basically dead on your feet by the time you made it back to the house. If you were smarter, or at least thinking a little clearer, maybe you wouldn’t have gone to Warren’s room at all. If he was thinking a little clearer, maybe he would have brought you right back to your room and made you go to sleep. But you were both exhausted, and all you wanted was each other. 

So, you went to Warren’s room, where he was already half-asleep in bed. He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, and you happily slid into them. And then you were out like a light. You both were. 

Eddie Roundtree: Oh boy do I remember that morning. [Laughs] There have been very few moments in the time I knew Billy Dunne where I saw him so fucking angry. Personally, I just couldn’t believe I didn’t notice what was up with the two of them before then. 

“What. The fuck. Is going on here.” The sheer rage in Billy’s voice brought you out of sleep, blinking blearily around as you came into consciousness. It took you a minute to register where you were– wrapped up in Warren’s arms, under Warren’s sheets and in Warren’s bed– and a few seconds more to really realize the scope of the situation. Your eyes met Graham’s first, who was standing at the foot of the bed, just looking kind of shocked at what he was seeing. Eddie was standing in the doorway, his eyebrows practically up to his hairline, eyes darting between the pair of you in bed and your brothers. Billy was standing next to Graham, his hands gripping the metal bed frame so hard his knuckles were a bloodless white, his jaw clenched so tightly he must have been in pain, his face a menacing red. 

You half-way sat up and smacked Warren on the chest, a little guilty about waking him up from his peaceful sleep and into this situation. He took a moment to fully become conscious, too, but when he saw your brothers standing at the foot of the bed, he shot straight up into a sitting position. 

“Billy–” you started, but he cut you off. 

“No,” he said, holding up a hand to silence you. His voice was measured, but you could hear the rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Nothing out of you. What the fuck is going on here, Warren?”

“I–” Warren started but quickly stopped, sighing. “Billy, I think you know.” Your heart swelled at the fact that he didn’t try to deny or deflect you, even in the face of Billy’s anger. 

Billy just stared at him for a moment, and then he lunged, grabbing Warren’s ankle through the sheet and yanking the man and the bedclothes down to the floor. Warren landed with a thunk and a groan and you scrambled over to his side of the bed, reaching down to help him stand. Eddie and Graham were both protesting from either side of him, but Billy either didn’t hear them or didn’t care. As soon as Warren was standing, Billy punched him in the face, sending him reeling into the wall. 

You stumbled your way off the bed, feet getting caught in the sheets that were half on the floor, immediately coming to stand in front of Warren. You shoved Billy as hard as you could, and he stumbled back a few steps because he wasn’t expecting it. Your eyes blazed as you stared him down, vindication warming your chest as he seemed to shrink a little. 

“Back the fuck up, Billy! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted. 

“You think I’m just gonna let him screw my little sister–” he started yelling, but was cut off when Graham put his hand on Billy’s arm, quietly but firmly saying, “That’s enough, man.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Billy. All of you, get the fuck out.” The level of your anger must have been genuinely frightening, because Graham bodily ushered Billy to the door without another word. You stomped behind them and slammed it closed. 

Immediately, you turned around and rushed to Warren, who was standing against the wall, holding his face. 

“Warren, I am so fucking sorry, my god,” you said emphatically. Gingerly, you pulled his hand away from his face and saw the skin on his cheek bone and all around his right eye, up to his eyebrow, was red and already darkening into a bruise. You felt tears of frustration and anger pricking at your eyes. “I am so, so sorry. I’ll go get you some ice, just give me one moment.” 

Warren grasped your wrist before you could get away, and you turned your face to the floor, not quite being able to stomach looking at him. This was all your fault. You knew what would happen if your brothers found out– well, you didn’t know Billy would go quite as berserk as he did– and you had allowed yourself to get reckless. 

“Hey,” he said softly. His voice was still scratchy with sleep, reminding you of so many late nights shared between the two of you, fighting hard to stay awake just to get a few more minutes with each other. Your heart panged painfully. When you still didn’t look at him, he gently grabbed your chin and turned your face toward him. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking. This is not your fault.” 

The tears really did come then, and you looked at Warren’s face helplessly, watching the bruise get worse in real time. “I knew my brothers would react in a shit way when they found out, and I shouldn’t have let us get so reckless.” 

“I was the one that made us so reckless, and I wouldn’t change that,” Warren insisted. “I was tired of wasting so much of the time we could’ve been spending together. Am I happy I just got punched in the face? Hell fuckin’ no, but I am glad that everything’s out in the open now. That I get to love you out in the open now.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked sharply up at him. “Love me?” 

The whole time you’d been together, neither of you had said a thing about love. You couldn’t remember exactly when you realized you loved him, but you knew you did. You had just been too nervous to say it, too afraid that he wouldn’t feel it back. 

“Are you kiddin’?” He asked, as though you were joking. At the serious look on your face, his own expression sobered. “Let me say it loud and clear, baby. I love you. I would take a punch from Billy Dunne every morning if it meant I could keep loving you, keep holding you the way I do.” 

You were grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt, and still crying a little from the overwhelming emotions of the whole situation. “God, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I am going to throttle my brother right now for what he did to you.” 

Warren laughed. “Let’s not make this whole thing worse than it already is, alright? I don’t want this to cause any more problems between you and your brothers than it already has.” 

You fretted, but eventually gave in. “Okay, well at least let me take care of this black eye.” 

Warren relented, and you made your way to the kitchen to get some ice. The house was eerily quiet, and you were sure Graham took Billy outside somewhere to cool off before anything could get worse. You were grateful that he did, because if you saw your oldest brother just then, you were sure that you would slap the shit out of him despite the conversation you and Warren just had. 

Graham and Billy didn’t return to the house until late afternoon, right before the sun was going down. You were in the kitchen with Warren and Eddie, the three of you working together to cook dinner. Eddie had returned to Warren’s room shortly after the whole ordeal, grinning and congratulating his best friend for ‘landing a chick that was so far out of his league’. You laughed and hugged him, grateful for the support. 

Billy lingered in the doorway, having enough shame to look sheepish. When you noticed him standing there, you angled yourself protectively in front of Warren, whose back was still turned to the sink, and who hadn’t noticed him yet. 

“You better be here to apologize, William,” you said, arms crossed over your chest. Warren turned around, confused, and only then noticed Billy standing there. He took a reflexive step back, as though he expected Billy to try to hit him again. 

Instead, Billy raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I am. Here to apologize, I mean. If you’ll let me.” 

You nodded once for him to continue. “I was so out of line this morning. I was just– you’re my baby sister, (Y/N)! I don’t think any man in the world is good enough for you. And I was just shocked, is all. But Warren, I shouldn’t have hit you, and I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t… you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Every word out of his mouth was a fight, and you could tell. It was nowhere near a perfect apology, but you knew it was the best you were going to get out of him. You turned a look on Warren, deciding to let him take the lead on this. It was really his apology to accept, after all. 

“It’s alright, man,” Warren said, waving a hand dismissively. You felt affection for him bloom in your chest, threatening to take you over. He was far more merciful than you ever would have been in this situation. You reached down and grabbed his hand, and he squeezed yours back. 

“Warren and I are together, Billy. And you’re just going to have to get used to that idea, because I will go fucking crazy on you if you ever lay a hand on him again. You were there for the creamsicle incident of ‘63, I know you remember. That is the kind of crazy I will unleash on you,” you promised. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Billy nodded, his eyes widening slightly. “Just– just give me some time. To get used to the idea.” 

You nodded, and with that, Billy turned and stalked off toward the stairs, revealing Graham standing in the hallway. He stepped forward into the kitchen and gave the two of you a genuine smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy for you guys. I never would have thought of it myself, but you make a really good match,” he said. You beamed at him, maneuvering around the island to pull him into a hug. 

“Thanks, Teddy Graham. Love you.” 

“Love you, too, kid,” he squeezed you tightly, ruffling your hair before leaving the room as well. 

You returned to your spot at Warren’s side, resuming your cooking. Warren kept glancing over at you, the expression on his face somewhere between amused and impressed. 

“What?” you asked. 

“What’s the creamsicle incident of ‘63?”

tag list: @eonnyx @xleiaorgana

[writeforfandoms]

Puppy Love 3

Find my CoD masterlist

More adorable puppies, a minor confrontation, and John finally makes a move. 

Warnings: Brief confrontation, vague threats, some anxiety. 

Word count: 1.4k

John Price x f!reader

Gaz made it to Price’s office in record time, keeping his ears open. The last few days, Soap had been making noises about going to see the puppies (and the cute breeder). But Gaz was determined to keep him and his flirting away from her. 

She wasn’t right for Soap. But she might be right for Price. 

Price took one look at his expression and chuffed. “I don’t want to hear who did what,” he grumbled, looking back at his paperwork. 

“No, sorry, Captain,” Gaz was quick to correct. “We’re avoiding Soap and going to see the puppies.”

“Why are we avoiding Soap?” Humor had returned to Price, though he didn’t get up yet. 

“Because he’s an annoying sod.”

“True enough.” 

When Price still hadn’t moved after nearly a full minute, Gaz narrowed his eyes a little. “I thought you wanted to see the puppies.”

“Mm.” Price frowned down at whatever report was in front of him. “You don’t need me to hold your hand, Gaz.”

“‘Course not, sir.” Gaz quickly filed through his plans. “I just like your company that much.”

Price chuffed again. “You’ll manage one day without me.” 

Damn. This was not going the way it was supposed to. Why had Price decided to be so stubborn now of all times? 

Inspiration struck and Gaz strode over to the desk, pulling his phone out and navigating quickly to his texts. “Don’t you want to see these cuties?” He kept his voice light as he turned the phone around, letting Price see a picture of all seven puppies trying to climb over the baby gate. 

And, conveniently, letting Price see the caption below:

Would you share this with John too? So he can see how much of a menace these little rascals are.

Gaz saw the moment Price read the caption, his lips parting ever so slightly. “Well. I suppose I could go with. Since you don’t want to go alone.” 

Gaz grinned. “Thanks, Captain.” 

Price waved him off, getting to his feet. Gaz tucked his phone away again, trying hard not to be too smug. “Let’s go see the pups.”

–

“I’m sorry,” you reiterated, standing firm in front of your door. The step didn’t give you very much height, but enough that you weren’t stuck looking up at the asshole in front of you. “The puppies are all spoken for already. If you’d like, I can put you on a waiting list or get you the contact information for other breeders.” 

“I was told you had a puppy available.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. He’d been rude the entire time, and something about him made you want to get him off your property as fast as humanly possible and never let him near a dog. 

“I’m afraid that’s not true. They’re all spoken for.” Your smile felt forced but you clung to it anyway. 

“If you’re lying to me–” He took a single step closer, and you dropped the smile, taking a half-step back to press your back against the door. 

A car stopped outside your house and you both froze. Kyle and John emerged from the car, both of them taking in the scene. 

“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Kyle called with a friendly smile. 

“Not at all,” you immediately piped up, though you refused to move. 

The man glowered at you but backed off, apparently unwilling to press the issue with witnesses around. He turned and stalked away, narrowly missing colliding with John’s shoulder. 

“You alright?” Kyle asked, jogging the rest of the way up to the front door.

“Fine,” you said, plastering on another fake smile. “It was nothing. Come inside, please.” You fumbled for a moment before you got the door open. Your hands were shaking. You were quick to stuff them in your pockets. “You can definitely get an idea of their personalities now,” you told Kyle, walking them to the kitchen. “Need me to open the gate?”

“Nah, I’ve got it.” Kyle glanced at you one more time before he stepped over the gate, immediately getting mobbed by the puppies. 

“The boys are the red, purple, and white collars,” you said, taking a step back. “Take your time.”

“You sure you’re alright?” John asked very quietly from next to you.

“Of course!” Your smile felt too brittle but you couldn’t let go of it. “Go play with the puppies, they love new people. Excuse me for a moment.”

You didn’t give him a chance to object, instead walking away as smoothly as you could. You rounded the corner to the front door and double checked it was locked before you leaned your head against the door, breathing deeply.

You’d always been terrible at confrontations. Always. And this one had been bad. 

Sometimes you hated living alone, not having someone to lean on. 

One last deep breath and you forced your shoulders down, your smile more natural. 

Clearly you hadn’t been missed, though. Kyle was sitting on the floor with one puppy in his lap, another pouncing on his boot. John was standing in the kitchen where you’d left him, though he was watching Kyle. The fact that neither of them was looking at you helped you relax a little bit more. 

“I was serious, you could sit with them,” you told John, smiling at him.

He shook his head a little. “Nah. Gaz can have his fun for now.” He paused there, one hand lifting to stroke briefly over his facial hair. “So someone did express interest in the last pup?”

“Uh, not exactly.” You shifted your weight, looking down and off to the side. 

“What happened?” He kept his voice low and nonjudgmental. 

“I just…” You floundered for a moment, unsure where to even start. “He came up to the door asking about a puppy. But he was… rude. Off. I don’t know why he wanted a puppy but I doubt it was for the right reasons. So I… lied.” 

John was silent for long enough that you peeked at him, nervous. He had apparently been waiting for that, because he nodded once. 

“Trusting your gut is always a good idea,” he murmured. “You made the right call.”

Your shoulders relaxed the rest of the way with that little bit of validation and you smiled. “Thanks,” you whispered. 

“Do you have anyone nearby if he comes back?” 

“Not exactly.” You shrugged, shifting your weight nervously. “I don’t open the door without checking who it is first, anyway. And I’ve got a baseball bat.” 

John was quiet for a few moments before he shook his head once. “I’ll give you my number,” he offered. “You can call me if you ever have problems.”

You blinked, eyes going wide. “Are you sure?” You couldn’t help but fuss with your shirt a little. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

He smiled crookedly, eyes warm. “You won’t be,” he assured you. “Promise.”

So you pulled out your phone and took down his number, and then texted him your name and a picture of the puppies so he’d have your number as well. 

(Still cuddling his puppy, Gaz couldn’t entirely hide his glee. This had worked out even better than he’d planned!) 

“Well, Gaz? You know which one you want?” 

Kyle popped up from the floor, grinning and holding his puppy to his chest. “This one.”

“Purple collar, got it.” You made a note in your phone. “He’ll be ready to go home in two weeks.” 

“Perfect.” Kyle chuckled when the puppy licked his chin. “Yes, we know you’re cute.” 

You smiled. "Looks like he's bonding with you already. That's good." 

"Can't wait until I can bring him home." Kyle set the puppy down with a sigh. 

"It'll go by faster than you know." You reached over to pat his shoulder. 

"I know." He didn't quite pout… but it was close. "Guess we'll head back now." 

You nodded, standing to the side to watch them head to the front door. Kyle walked out and jogged over to the truck, but John stopped just outside the door. 

"I meant it," he murmured, low and serious. "Call me anytime. For any reason. You'll never be a bother." 

"Thank you." You smiled at him. "I'll see you soon."

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Ice skater! Fem! Reader

A/N: hiii, the usual, not proofread, Miguel might be ooc. There will be 2 chapters left in this series before I end it 😭🫶🏼. Also I need ideas for a costume for Miguel in the last chapter, if you have any ideas lmk in the comments.

(Y/N)- Your name, (N/N)- Nickname.

Cursing, mentions of throwing up, alcohol use, Miguel finally growing a fucking pair (reader too). Miguel being just a very very lowkey creep.

Word count: 2.1k

Series Materlist

Chapter 13: Crawlin’ back to you.

—

“I don’t get it, he keeps giving me the most mixed-fucking-signals.” You sighed, leaning your head into your palm, your elbow resting on the wooden table you were sitting at with Logan, Kate and Kate’s boyfriend. “Like how are you going to kiss me, then start dating another girl, then kiss me again, without saying any sort of explanation? For all I know he cheated on her with that last kiss.” You continued to rant, your free hand spinning your straw in your six dollar Chili’s Halloween themed margarita.

“Well… maybe things would be a lot less complicated if both of learned how to stop being stubborn and just, I don’t know, fucking communicated.” Kate lectured you (for the umpteenth time this month) as she grabbed a chip from the basket before dipping it into the small salsa bowl, then taking a bite out of said chip.

“Babe chill, you act we weren’t ‘just friends’ when you would sneak into my dorm room every night all of last year.” Kate’s boyfriend (whose name was Xavier) defended you with a sly smile, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck. You couldn’t help but feel a slight ache of jealousy in your chest as you watched the two, they were so cute…

Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s reply. “Whatever…” she grumbled, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he leaned against the wall that was connected to the booth.

“Hey at least you guys were actually acting friendly towards one another, when (Y/N) and Miguel aren’t dry humping each other like horny teens-“ you sunk your face into your hand as a heat of embarrassment rushed your cheek, you couldn’t believe that Logan has the audacity to say that in a crowded restaurant, and it wasn’t even a true statement! You would only make out like horny teens… “then they’re at each other’s throats.” He finished as he playfully nudged you with his elbow, causing you to almost spill your drink, but he ignored your scowl as you brought your drink closer to you before taking a sip.

“It’s giving enemies to lovers.”

“Do you really have to relate everything in real life to book tropes, babe?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Okay-“ you jumped in, putting your hands up near your shoulders in a defensive manner, sitting up straight in your seat, “how about, let’s stop talking about my pathetic and complicated love life. Let’s talk about something else, like Logan’s pathetic and complicated love life.” You said with a small smile, your gaze shifting over to Logan as you attempt to shift conversation topics, your sentence causing Logan to scoff and roll his eyes.

“No thank you, next topic.” He murmured, before taking a bite of a french fry from his plate.

“Aww come on Logan, did you end up going on that date?” You teased him with a smile,going to snatch a fry from Logan’s plate but he swatted your hand away as he sent you a glare.

“Shut up, (N/N).” He grumbled. Obviously, it didn’t go well.

“All I’m gonna say (Y/N), is he either wants to one and done hatefuck you,wants a situationship, or he’s secretly madly in love with you and wants a relationship but is afraid to tell you.” Xavier chimed in, “and you can trust me because I’m a guy, and I know how guy minds work, right Logan?” Your skating partner just nodded his head in response.

“Well if it’s not the last one, I think it would be better if my delusions weren’t fed into…” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink. “Anyways, we should get going.”

—

“Alright guys, we've got a home game tonight, so don’t get too fucking wild.” Miguel said in a stern tone, his face in its usual scowl as he gets out of his car’s driver seat and walks towards the team, pointing his finger towards his teammates who had already been waiting for him to arrive in the parking lot, gathered in a small circle, some leaning against the other cars that they had traveled in. It was Friday night, the end of midterms and the beginning of fall break, and as a small celebration The spiders had decided to all go out to eat before the game.

“It’s a fucking Chili’s O’Hara, how wild can we get?” One of them asked rhetorically, as they all started to walk towards the restaurant together.

“There’s a reason we’re not allowed into Dave and Busters guys...” Miguel mumbled with an eye roll, causing some of the other members to snicker at his reaction.

It was honestly surprising how quickly they were able to get a table to seat 26 people despite it being fairly busy on a Friday afternoon. Miguel only had to remind the group twice as they waited for the table to not get absolutely hammered or not overly gorge themselves on food to avoid throwing up mid-game, the last thing he his coach ripping him a new one as he tried to keep the team focused while half of them were throwing up into their helmets or in a nearby alleyway while the other half way too drunk to walk let alone skate.

Miguel sipped on his coke, looking over at Peter as he listened in on him ranting to the goalie about the newest comic issue of Spider-Man that he had just finished reading, when he suddenly felt a hand lightly tap on his chest causing him to look away and turn his attention to Ben Reilly who was sitting to the right of him, once he his head was turned, he’s eyes followed the direction that Ben’s finger was pointing at, the words that were spoken from Ben not really completely registering due to the all the noise happening around him at the table. He really didn’t give a good look in the direction Ben and now a few of the nearby Spiders were looking at, a fleeting glance at most, half expecting them to be looking at a waitress that they thought was attractive or something in that nature. He was in the middle of turning his head back towards the opposite direction again when he caught a glimpse of a familiar face walking into the direction of the hallway where the bathroom was.

“Isn’t that ice princess?” One of the hockey players that was sitting a bit closer to Miguel asked in a teasing tone, but Miguel didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, he didn’t give a response to some of the ones who overheard to question and attempted to provoke him, chuckling, or making sly comment, a few making kissing noises. Rather he stood up from the table, rather abruptly, causing some of the others to look at him in confusion and curiosity, and as if his body was suddenly possessed, he started to walk in the same direction you had. He didn’t know why he was following behind you, if he was being honest with himself he felt kinda like a creep, but he couldn’t get himself to stop and turn around. You haven’t even noticed him, you didn’t even glance in his direction, fuck-you didn’t even know you were in the same building as him, but your presence was like one of a siren to him, and he was the sailor caught in your entrancing song.

He didn’t care if you led him towards his inevitable demise, he’d gladly drown for you.

The second you disappeared into the women’s restroom, he came back to reality, his head filled with thoughts other than you once again. In an almost panic state, he quickly rushed into the male’s bathroom that was right in front of him, thanking the gods above that you didn’t turn around and saw him. He walked over to the sink and splashed some water on his face, before leaning against the bathroom sink and taking some deep breaths to help slow down his heart rate, he was thankful that no one else was in the bathroom with him. After a few minutes, he heard the faint sound of a door creaking on, for a split second, he gambled with the idea of leaving the door and hopefully be granted the opportunity to “accidentally” run into you, but before he could properly and rationally think about it, he found his hand already pushing open the door.

“Hey! Watch it-oh shit- sorry Mig, I didn’t know that was you…” You dusted yourself off, grateful that your hand shot up to the side of the wall to prevent you from falling down butt first on the Chili’s tilted floor.

“It’s okay, I didn't see you either.” Technically speaking Miguel wasn’t lying. He didn’t see her. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you right?” He asked in a slightly softer tone, a hand quickly coming up to gently grab your chin and moving your face slightly side-to-side as if checking for injury, his brows furrowed together as those ever familiar wrinkles appeared on his face. Your heart fluttered from the sweet and nurturing gesture, Miguel’s kindness was a trait of his you saw very rarely, at least towards you, so you couldn’t help your stomach from flipping. You brought a hand up after a second, a smile slowly but surely forming on your face (as well as a blush) as your hand came up and over his, and slowly brought it away from your face and back down.

“I’m okay Miguel, don’t worry.” You reassured him in a similar quiet tone, neither of you noticing that your smaller hand was still holding onto his larger one. Your response caused Miguel’s worried expression to turn into one of relief, his hand leaving your and going up to his chest instead as he left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You attempted your best to not allow your facial expression to falter as you ignore the sudden ache in your chest once his warm hand leaves yours.

“Look…” Miguel begins after a second, hand traveling up to the nape of his neck and his gaze drops to the floor for a second before going back up to meet yours. “I wanted to ask you, if you would come watch our game tonight, it starts at 7, you could bring your friends if you want. I’ll make sure you all get good seats near the front if you do.” God he felt like he was asking his middle school crush to go on a date for the first time all over again. How did you manage to make him feel like a nervous wreck, make him feel like he could combust from anger and jealousy, make him feel like he’d never deserve you but also make him feel like he was meant to kneel and worship the ground you walked on. Is that what love felt like to him???

“Really?” Your face scrunched to one of confusion and you tilted your head to the side a bit. “Why not invite your girlfriend?” The question you just uttered took Miguel a second to process, girlfriend? What girlfriend? He didn’t-

Wait…

Ohhhhh…

He forgot he never got the chance to tell you he dumped her ass the same day he surprised you at the ice rink.

He brought his hand down and put it into his jean pocket, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head before replying,

“Oh, no. I, uh, I dumped her.”

Was it bad that you felt relieved?

“So is that a yes?” His lips pulled up in that classic Miguel smirk, and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay, okay I’ll go.” You nodded with a smile, it took all of Miguel’s being to not grab you and pull you into a kiss. “But-“ you continued, bringing a finger up, pointing it at him. “If I go, you have to come watch me and Logan perform at Regionals next week, deal?” Miguel couldn’t help but let a small playful scoff leave his lips as he smirks.

“That’s it ice princess? Sounds fair enough.”

You smiled, despite his cockyness coming back at full force you couldn’t help but be a bit excited at the whole idea.

“You promise?” You asked, and Miguel chuckled, you sounded so adorable when asking that.

“Of course.”

Without another word you brought your hand back up towards him, all the fingers being curled into a fist except your pinky finger, that was outstretched. Miguel rolled his eyes and his smirk widened, releasing a small chuckle as he spoke.

“Really? What are we 5?” It was only a tease, but despite the tease he copied your movements, taking your pinky into his.

“Pinky promises are legally binding.” You joked, your smile growing as you giggled, your blush growing darker as well.

You really were gonna be the death of him.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

[somber-sapphic]

Cleaning Fever

Natasha and Wanda come home from a mission to find you feverish and cleaning the bathrooms. (wandanat x reader)

Word Count. 853

----

All you’d wanted to do was surprise your girlfriends when they got home from their mission. You knew it’d be a dangerous one, so you figured the one thing you could do was clean up a little bit. Between missions, paperwork, and doing whatever Tony wanted your room was sort of a mess and there was very little time to clean it. 

You decided that you’d take it upon yourself to make the room shine. Then, you’d clean the bathrooms. 

Naturally, you couldn’t even do that right. You’d woken up alone (again) with the flu and a brain-melting fever. You were determined to do it anyways. 

“Why are you cleaning the bathroom while you’re sick?” Natasha demanded startling you out of your dizzy cleaning frenzy. You spun around, nearly knocking over the bottle of bleach you were using. Wanda caught you before you could slam your head into the surprisingly clean surface and knelt beside you, her hand brushing your cheek. 

You were wearing a towel as a blanket, and there was no doubt that you looked ridiculous. 

“Tasha, she’s on fire. What the hell were you thinking?” The witch took your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her worried chocolate eyes. You felt your lower lip start to tremble as you looked at her, afraid that she’d yell at you. Why were they mad? What had you done?

“I…I was fixing it. It was dirty. I was helping.” Natasha followed Wanda’s example and knelt beside you, her hand going to your back. The two women exchanged worried looks and helped you off of the chemical-covered floor. 

“You were gone…I wanted to help.” You repeated, grabbing Natasha’s hand for emphasis. She squeezed your fingers gently and gave you a warm smile. 

“Yeah, you did a great job baby. Let’s go back to bed, yeah?” You looked over to Wanda, who was absently running her fingers through your hair. She felt good. 

“M’kay.” You mumbled, leaning back against the auburn-haired woman. You could feel your eyes falling shut, but a shake of your shoulder roused you. 

“Not here, in bed. The floor is not a comfortable place to sleep.” You pouted slightly and rubbed at your dripping nose. 

“I don’t want to go to bed. You just got home.” Natasha chuckled at your stubbornness and picked you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around her waist and arms around her neck so she was carrying you as if you were a toddler. Maybe you should’ve been embarrassed, but you were cold and tired and she was comfy. 

“Mmm, Tasha. You probably smell pretty.” You were sort of sad that you couldn’t breathe because you were sure she smelled nice. Plus it would’ve been nice for your lungs to stop hurting. 

“Aww, love your breathing sounds not great. We might have to get you looked over by Bruce in the morning.” You shook your head against her, sniffling miserably. Wanda put a hand on your back and frowned. She could feel you wheezing. 

“Let’s go to the couch.” Nat sighed, carrying you into the communal living room. Tony was sitting on the couch, working on something that looked mind-numblingly boring.

“Hi, Tony.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch on the far end. You were shivering uncontrollably, struggling to get a deep breath. A painful cough brought up a glob yellowish-green glob of mucus that you quickly spat into a tissue. You couldn’t help the tears that filled your eyes. Nothing was okay.

“Hey kid, so…how are you feeling?” You shook your head, curling in on yourself. 

“Honey, you’re shaking. Let’s get you back under the blankets.” Wanda tucked the blankets up to your chin and slid in beside you, yawning a little. Of course, they would be tired. Natasha wrapped herself against your other side and tucked her head into your neck. 

“Alright, I’m going to get you some medicine. FRI, play The Office.” Tony stood from his spot on the couch and walked around to pat your back as he left the room. The Office started playing in the background, drawing your attention. 

You didn’t notice when he got back until he was waving a glass of Pedylite in your face. You had no idea where he got it from, but it was probably a good idea considering that you hadn’t had anything to eat in a few days.

“C’mon Y/n/n, take the pills and drink this.” Nat coaxed, taking the glass from Tony. The man smiled gently and ruffled your hair. You did what Natasha wanted, still mostly focused on the television. 

“Good girl. Now for the love of Thor, go to sleep.” Wanda pressed her lips to your temple and warmth leaked through you. 

“Missed you guys.” You slurred tiredly, clinging tightly to Natasha’s arm. You had Wanda’s hand in your free one, worried that they’d leave you alone.

“We missed you too detka. Sleep, or I’ll knock you out.” Natasha smoothed your hair out of your face, and you nodded, rather opposed to being drugged. She’d drugged you before and she’d do it again.

“Night.”