#based yet again on a conversation with my sister

[that-bitch-kat3]

sirius: hey reg do you have like… a bag i could borrow?

regulus, without looking up: the only bags i have are under my eyes and they are specifically designed to carry the weight of my sins.

sirius:

sirius: literally all you had to say was no

[hannieehaee]

Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?

content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.

wc: 1156

a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.

well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.

he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.

now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.

you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.

despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).

today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.

he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.

jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.

as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.

"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.

"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"

"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."

"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.

by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.

"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.

"hannie, don't lie to me."

"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"

"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.

the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.

"jeonghan, apologize to him."

"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.

"you heard me."

"but–"

"hannie!"

"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."

"than–"

"thank you", you interrupted the man.

jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.

after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.

"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.

"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.

"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.

despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.

"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.

you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.

"are you not?", you inquired.

"i am, but they dont need to know that!"

"you're so annoying ..."

"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"

"im not at liberty of releasing that information."

he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: the 2nd part for this. fem!reader. cheating. i didn’t think you would like it so much, but since you did, here’s part two.

•••

Maybe if he watched you close enough, if he kept an eye on you while he was near, Simon would get the answers he was looking for. All he wanted was a glimpse into your mind, a glint in your eyes that would give away why you’d spent those nights by his side without saying anything about it.

The mission was slowly coming to an end, and he had overheard you and Johnny talk about your plans for your time home. The Scotsman offered to go on a short trip with you to Rome, visiting the city you’d read so much about in the past year or so. Going there was a promise you made to yourself on New Year’s Day and he was more than happy to help make it happen.

“Have you introduced her to your family?” Simon asked Johnny one evening when they went out for a drink.

The younger man gave him a confused look, but once the lieutenant motioned towards the corner of the bar where you were deep in a conversation with Laswell, his lips formed a flat line and he nodded a few times. “Yeah, well, I mentioned her once to my sister, and the next thing I know, my mother’s blowing up my phone. I’d rather keep her away from this insanity,” he explained.

“Wise choice.”

He hated this. He hated to know that Johnny was dating you, he hated to keep up this nice conversation with him, all while he was struggling to find out why you cared about him back then. His mind was full of stupid ideas again, that maybe you weren’t that deeply in love with the fellow sergeant. What if he was just your backup plan? What if the one you truly wanted was him?

Fucking hell. He was truly losing his grip.

“I’m going back to the base.”

Simon looked to the side, only to find you standing there with this adorable warm smile on your perfect, kissable lips. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Johnny taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours before he raised it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it.

He definitely didn’t have the right to be upset about it. Yet, he felt a pang of jealousy, and he was maybe even offended by the way Johnny’s blue eyes shined when he looked at you. His mind was telling him it should be him, even though he knew it was against the regulations.

“Let me finish my drink and I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said, but you just shook your head and told him he should take his time, have fun, and maybe he should talk to the others too. “You think I’m ignoring them? Well, I do spend a lot of time in the Lt’s company, that’s true,” he mused.

After he took a glance at the empty glass next to him, Simon had an idea. “I’m done for today anyway, I can go with her if you don’t want her to go alone,” he offered.

While Johnny seemed happy that he was kind enough to go with you, you looked hesitant. Unsure. Damn, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said you looked scared for a moment. But why would you be scared? He didn’t do anything that could scare you.

In the end you agreed, so the two of you were soon out on the street, walking side by side. The need to reach out and take your hand poisoned Simon’s mind, and he decided to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. He glanced over at you every so often, enjoying the view that he wouldn’t see for a few weeks at least.

“Why did you stay by my side in the infirmary while I was recovering?” he suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on you to see your facial expression.

And sure enough, at first you looked shocked. “What do you mean?” you inquired innocently.

With a sigh, Simon came to a halt and grabbed your wrist to make you stop as well. “I saw you there. And the doctor confirmed that you spent every night there with me while I was knocked out.”

“Look, it’s—”

“Why? I need to know,” he pressed on.

You buried your fingers into your hair as you spinned on your heels to turn away from him. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to be alone,” you admitted.

Once he took a deep breath, he was quick to blow it out. “So you stayed out of pity?”

“No! I mean… God, Ghost, I don’t know, okay? It just didn’t feel right to let you lie there on your own, I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and—”

He shouldn’t have done it, but it felt so good. Because Simon launched forward, his big palm placed on the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. At first you were frozen from surprise, but then you returned his kiss, lips moving against each other in perfect sync. He had been waiting for this for so long that he couldn’t even believe it was happening.

He was only pulled back to reality by your voice after you pulled away and took a few steps away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”

“It’s okay, we can always pretend it never happened,” he said with an aching heart.

“You don’t get it, do you?” When Simon shrugged and shook his head, you walked back to him and poked his chest with your index finger. “I’m with Johnny, this is totally against the rules, and no matter how badly I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you, this can’t happen again. But I know it happened and it’s going to torture me now.”

With a gulp, Simon nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he said with a sigh.

To his surprise, you put a hand on his now masked cheek, a move so gentle that he was beginning to get very confused. And when you pulled down his mask, things got even more confusing, because you stood on your toes and kissed him again. This time you let yourself go, your fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair as you moaned against his lips.

“We should get going,” you said once you let him go and pulled his mask back to its place.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Instead of answering, you flashed a smile at him, making his life a living hell by playing an innocent angel. But then you curled your finger to make him come a little closer. “Neither do I. But we will have to figure it out.”

(part 3)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Comfortable

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.

Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really

Word Count: 2.8K

A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 

~*~

“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”

The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.

“Barnes lacking?”

You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.

“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”

Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”

You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.

“I... I fake it.”

The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.

“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.

“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”

Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.

Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.

The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.

“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.

You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.

Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.

If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.

The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.

“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”

You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.

You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.

“I just... I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.

Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.

“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.

“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”

You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.

“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”

He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.

“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”

You take another deep breath then slowly nod.

“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.

Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.

“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”

He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”

He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”

You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.

“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.

“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”

Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.

“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”

He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.

“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”

You nod again.

“Okay.”

He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Okay.”

~*~

The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.

You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.

He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.

“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”

You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.

“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.

He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.

You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.

Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.

“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”

You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.

And to him, you might as well be.

“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”

How could you possibly say no to that?

When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.

He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.

“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.

You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.

“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.

He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.

You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.

“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”

He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.

He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?

It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.

Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.

Fuck, you look gorgeous.

It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.

“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”

God, hearing that is like music to his ears.

He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.

You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.

A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.

Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.

He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.

Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.

He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.

He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.

Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.

“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.

You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.

“Words, baby. I need words.”

You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.

“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.

He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.

You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.

He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.

And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.

Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.

“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”

Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.

He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.

“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.

“Right there... oh fuck, please...”

He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.

He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.

You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.

You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.

“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”

He nods, showering your face in kisses.

“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.

His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.

Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.

Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.

Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.

Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.

God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.

His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.

He did that.

He made you feel that good.

He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.

And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?

[skipper1331]

best friends sister // Alessia Russo

a/n: based off this request.

Alessia Russo.

Y/n Toone.

Two people.

One mutual contact.

Best friend - sister.

One common rule in the world: never date your best friends little sister.

And: never date your sisters best friend.

Simple? You might think.

Alessia Russo fell in love with you ages ago.

You fell in love with Alessia Russo years ago.

-

"Hi" shy Lessi smiled as you opened the door, "you look nic-" as the blonde was about compliment you, her chaotic best friend stumbled down the stairs. "Less! Hi, i‘m ready to go" the young girl said before she grabbed her purse, "we‘re out shopping" your sister told you as she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, "ew" your hand wiped away the spit of Ella as she grinned cheekily, linking her arm with Lessi. How i wish that i could kiss her, Alessia daydreamed, red colour covering her cheeks. When Ella pulled her out your shared flat, the italian turned around one last time to look at you, smiling shyly as you waved a good bye.

"why does she have to be so beautiful?" you muttered under your breath, closing the door. Your hand still rested on the door knob, your head falling against the wooden material with a quiet thud.

-

Movie night.

Sitting on the couch with popcorn on your lap, you had a brunette, known as annoying big sister, on your left and you had a blonde, known as a lovely girl, on your right.

20 minutes into the third movie of Pitch Perfect, you heard loud breathing next to you - Ella in dreamland. She could never go through a movie marathon without falling asleep.

As you went to grab more popcorn, too occupied by the movie to notice another hand in the bowl, you shrieked lightly when you felt something warm touch your hand. Ella stirred a little yet didn‘t wake up, drool running further down her chin. "Sorry" you mumbled, cheeks flushing red. "No, i‘m sorry, i wasn‘t looking. Please" Alessia pulled her hand out of the bowl, signing to you that you should take popcorn first. Smiling at her you grabbed a hand full, the blonde going back in as it was her turn now. The two of you fell in a quiet conversation about the movie and the characters as you still watched it. At some point, you rested your head against Alessias shoulder, her body tensed as she got flustered mess, heart racing, skin on fire. She didn‘t know what came over her - where the confidence came from but when she saw your hand resting openly on the blanket she interwined your hands. Nobody dared to say a word or let their eyes leave the tv, your cheeks covered in a blush, lopsided smiles plastered on your face as you simply enjoyed the moment.

Who knows If it‘ll ever come again?

-

The two best friends were in the living room of your apartment as they sat comfortable on the couch, each of them a glass of wine in their hand as you walked down the stairs all dressed up. Alessias breath hitched as she saw you, you look absolutely stunning. Out of reflex, she stood up, eyes wandering over your body, dotting around your curves until the blue orbs stopped at your face. "Wow" she said star struck, she couldn‘t believe the sight she had in front of her, "where are ya goin‘?" the older Toone asked as she eyed you skeptically, "i‘ve got a date" you stated while looking directly at Alessia. Her whole face fell at the word 'date', feeling as she was punched in the gut. The wine glass slipped out of her hand, shattering on the floor, her eyes not leaving yours. "D-date?" it took everything in her not to cry, she felt so hurt.

"Clumsy girl!" Ella laughed, herself standing up to get a broom to sweep up the broken pieces. She didn‘t realize what was happening in front of her eyes - her best friend just got her heart broken.

You left without looking back.

You didn‘t mean to hurt her in any kind of way - she looked sad when you left but why?

-

"Hello?" you answered the phone in the middle of the night.

"My pretty lady, hi" a sweet voice said - the voice you knew so well, the voice that followed you into your dreams. "Lessi?" you asked anyways, your brain not in its full function that early. "No it‘s Alessia Russo, Tooneys best friend" she clarified giggling. "I know who you are- why are you calling me" you looked at your alarm before you continued "at 2am?" she sighed theatrically, "just wanted to hear your sexy morning voice, i guess"

"Lessi are you drunk?"

"Absolutely! HA!" she laughed, jumping up and down at the location she was at.

"Where are you?"

"Hmmm, not gonna tell you"

"Alessia!" your voice got louder and stern. You didn‘t want her to get lost while she was drunk. She was already clumsy sober you didn‘t want to find out what happens If you let her wander around alone and drunk.

"Baby, one day you‘re screaming that"

ignoring her coment, you searched for an app on your phone. Your sister was heavingly annoying but right now you were more than thankful that she had installed a tracking app in case of an emergency - Lessi’s location included. Within minutes you were out of the house, sitting in your car as you drove to the destination.

As you saw the blonde happily jumping around near a club, your heart felt relief - she seemed to be fine. "Less" you said, stepping out of your car, walking towards her.

She threw herself on you, arms flying around your body as she contently greeted you, "looking absolute gorgeous, babygirl"

"What‘re you doing here?!"

"drinking and dancing!" she held her cup with some liquid in the air as she cheered. "Oh my- Lessi" your arm went around her waist as she stumbled over her own feet- not clear If it was the alcohol or her clumsiness.

Finally, buckled in the car seat, you took a seat behind the steering wheel. The radio was playing as you drove home, Ella at Joe‘s. The italian in no condition to be left alone. The whole way she brabbled about something as you occasionally answered with a humm.

At home, you gave her some of your clothes, helping her change.

Something was on her mind as she walked around the kitchen island with a deep frown on her face after she drank the glass of water which you had handed her. "Ya alright?" you asked, blocking her way. She marched over to the living room, standing at the exact same spot, she had stood once before - not enjoying it at all. "You had a date" she stated, "you had a fucking date!" her mood taking a turn, "you had a fucking date and I wasn‘t invited"

Utterly confused you asked, "What?"

"Why didn‘t you ask me?"

"On a date?"

"Yes" her face held the same sadness it had a few days ago when you saw her that night, "my heart shattered in more pieces than that stupid wine glass" she admitted, a single tear slipping out of her eyes.

"Alessia, what‘re you-"

"Stop talking!" with quick steps she was in front of you, walking you back in the kitchen as she trapped your body between her own and the kitchen island, her arms on either side of it, "i want you to be mine" she mumbled against your lips, an inch away, the smell alcohol hitting your nostrils. "I don‘t want you going out on dates, i don‘t want to know that someone else is making you blush - it has to be me! You have to be mine, please"

"Lessi, you‘re drunk, you won‘t remember any of this in the morning" you told her, breaking your own heart. The day finally came where she reciprocated your feelings and admitted it and know you had to tell her that it were drunk slurs.

"This isn‘t the alcohol!" her voice grew loud, "fucking hell"

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as you kind of soaked in the moment, "tell me in the morning and i‘m yours" you whispered, still with your eyes shut.

"Fine, i will" with an ease she picked you up and carried you to your bed, maybe she wasn‘t as clumsy as she was when she was sober. You were about to say something before she put her finger to your lips, shushing you, "don‘t say anything, baby, you’re sleeping in my arms - end of discussion"

Flopping on the free side of the bed, the striker made herself comfortable before she pulled you into her hold. It was new for both of you yet so familiar.

The two of you fell asleep within seconds, sleeping better than ever.

-

You were the first one up, strong arms wrapped around your body and gentle breaths hitting the nape of your neck. Turning in her hold, you took the chance to admire her, she looked so cute. It wasn‘t a rare sight for you per se, she‘s at your home all the time but something about her laying in your bed, holding you tight made it much more special.

You had to break the moment, though. If she really wants you, she would know without the clue of you being in her arms. You wanted to know: were it just slurs?

Slowly, you entangled your body, the blonde grumbling as nothing was in her arms yet still sleeping. you made your way down to the kitchen, starting to make breakfast as music was softly playing in the background. In your own mind, you didn‘t hear her come down the stairs, messy hair, cheeks puffed from last night. Her head hurt like shit, "mornin‘" she greeted, taking a seat on the stool. Wordlessly, you placed a glass of water in front of her, pills next to it.

"Thank you"

You hoped she would say something, say something about last night, about what she admitted.

In the meantime, she played with her glass, counting the left over water droplets, "you know," she started, the empty glass on the counter, "i still want you to be mine"

Your movements stopped, everything just stopped.

"I‘m sorry for last night but not for what i said, i remember everything and if my mind isn‘t playing some games, you‘re mine now" she walked around the island, confidence radiating from her body. Like last night, her arms wrapped around your smaller frame with her forehead resting against your own, "say yes, please. I can‘t stand a day with the knowledge you‘re going out with other people"

Your heart fluttered at her gentle touch, skin burning, "yes"

-

Ella didn‘t know a thing about the two of you, her best friend and little sister - girlfriends.

The last few months had been the happiest of your life, Alessia was an angel, treated you like a royalty, kissed you like you were her forever.

"Baby," the striker looped her arms around your waist from behind as she pressed soft kisses to the side of her neck, "looking stunning as always"

"Lessi" you giggled, interwining your hands as you swayed around, "my pretty girl, amore, the prettiest"

Both of you heard the door open way to late as a loud Ella Toone barged in, "Hi!" she yelled, you jumped away from Alessia, her hands leaving your body as she turned around to the cupboard, "oh hi Less" the Mancunian smiled, not seeing the interaction Alessia had with her little sister, "what‘re you doing here?" she asked instead

"Came to suprise you!" the italian lied, out of the matter of fact, the thing you had was something new and private, nobody knew. And to be honest, neither of you knew how Ella would react. Would she support you? Would she be angry?

-

"Oi! What‘s that?" Ella asked as the three of you sat like so often on the couch, her thumb flew to your neck, rubbing over the reddish mark. Lessi‘s hickey. Your hand swatted Tooney‘s away, holding your neck as a slight hiss left your throat. Alessia chocked on air - she got carried away last night when you visited her, "burnt myself with the curling iron" you stuttered, trying to cover your flustered and caught self.

"Are ya turning into clumsy-Lessi?" she laughed, smacking your thigh, amused by her own joke.

Thankfully, Ella didn‘t realize that there were no curls in your hair.

-

"What are you wearing?" your sister asked her best friend as they sat in the coffee shop.

Confused, the striker looked down at herself, "a hoodie?"

"From whom?"

Just now, Alessia realized it wasn‘t her own - yours. It was the first thing she saw this morning and in her groggy morning state she didn‘t recognized that it was yours. "Looks likes Y/ns" the midfielder added to her question as she took a sip.

"Uh! It‘s not yours?"

"No?"

"Oh shit. The other day when i waited for you, i grabbed it 'cause it looked so cozy, didn‘t know it was hers" she rambled.

"Nah, no worries. We‘re family"

Alessia gulped, oh gosh, how is she ever gonna tell her best friend that she’s in love let alone in a relationship with her little sister?

-

It went on like this for half a year, Ella didn‘t know a thing. Both of you felt bad lying to her but on the other side you didn‘t know what to do.

Alessia loved you.

You loved Alessia.

And the two of you cared so much about Ella and her opinion. So every day that passed, the harder it got for you, the more your heart broke.

"Lessi, i don‘t want to her find out about us, i wanna tell her and everyone" you mumbled in her chest. "I know, baby, me too" she kissed your forehead with so much love as she held you close, "I promise we will tell her soon"

-

"Oh Less, hi? tooney asked as she opened the door.

"Can I come in?" the blonde asked, fists balling as she tried to stay calm.

"Sure! Ya don‘t have to ask"

In a firm voice, she told her bestie, "We need to talk about something" Ellas face growing pale, the striker never one to be this serious, "yeah sure, let‘s take a seat" she signaled to the couch, yet Alessia didn‘t move, "is your sister here?" ske asked instead.

"Yeah, she’s in her room. What is going on?"

"Y/n!" Alessia shouted so you would come down. She didn‘t talk to you about what she was about to do, what she was going to admit but she didn‘t want to lie to her best friend another day and she didn‘t want to hide her feelings for you either.

As you patted down the stairs, you saw your girlfriend with a determined expression on her face and a confused sister sitting on the couch. "Hi" you greeted. Nonetheless that she had a clenched jaw, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner, pulling you in front of the couch where Ella was sitting.

"I‘m dating your sister" the italian stated firmly. As Ella was about to say something, she cut her off, "before you say something: i love her. And i know sisters are a no-go but i couldn‘t help myself." her voice grew shaky at the so thought end, "please don‘t hate me" she whispered as she looked at Ella who had an unreadable expression on her face. Shamefully, you looked to the ground, squeezing Lessi’s hand: you‘re with her.

Ella didn‘t say anything - she needed to gather her thoughts. After 5 minutes, you were a nervous mess, the same as your girlfriend, "Ella, we‘re so sorry. It- it just happened" you explained, trying to save the situation.

Like a robot, the young lioness stood up from the couch, both of you inhaling sharply, "I‘m so happy!" she exclaimed, arms swinging over your bodies, pulling you in a bear hug. You didn't expect that reaction but were more than happy with it, "that‘s so cool! My little sister and best friend! Less, you’re gonna be my sister-in-law"

Sighing in relief, you felt at peace, all the nerves washing off your body, "You’re not mad?" Less asked to be sure.

"Nah! i love this"

And she meant it when she said it, maybe she didn‘t know about it from very first day and as obvious as she can be, Ella saw your and Alessias mood change over the last few moths, both of you seemed much more happy and at peace. Even If she couldn‘t connect the dots, she was now your biggest supporter.

She sailed the ship Russo-MiniToone.

————————

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Five: My Whole World Came Alive

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, and finally some progress. Tommy keeps it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you all for reading! Comments and reblogs make me weep with gratefulness.

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Four | Main Masterlist

Sitting in Phil’s Icehouse with juicy burgers and drinks – you insisted Joel try a mimosa – conversation flowed between the two of you. Joel found his lips twitching into a smile at nearly every word that came out of your mouth. He was fascinated with the stories you shared of your college years, and he listened, completely enraptured, to your plans for the future. Every bit of your lunch together felt like a date. He wondered if you felt the same, yet he couldn’t find the courage to ask outright.

“Yeah, so, I have a meeting at Sarah’s school this week for a possible position. Remember that interview I mentioned a few weeks back? It went really well and now they want me to meet with the teacher who’s retiring and the principal,” you explained, sipping at your mimosa. “I’m pretty excited.”

Joel’s eyes lit up. He’d forgotten that you were looking at a position at Sarah’s school. “Wow, that’s great, darlin’. This would be for a science teacher position, right?”

“Yep. Middle grade science.” The beaming smile you flashed him nearly blinded Joel. “Wanna know the best part? If I get this job, I’ll have the same hours as Sarah, give or take a bit, so I can continue with the school drop-off and pickup for you. She might have to stay later with me somedays, but it’ll still work.”

Nodding, Joel’s mind was flashing lightyears forward, picturing you calling his house home and taking Sarah to school with you, coming home to have dinner together, watching TV in the evenings. Heart thudding in his chest at just the thought of you living together, Joel shook himself. He had to slow his mind down, put the brakes on those kinds of thoughts until after you were actually dating him, at least.

“You could be Sarah’s science teacher in a few years, huh?” Joel asked, focusing once again on listening to you instead of drifting off into daydreams.

“Could be, yeah,” you laughed. “I imagine she’d be my favorite student.”

He beamed at that. Conversation shifted to other things and soon your meals were finished.

“We should do this again,” you said, glassy eyes meeting his across the table, lips curved in a gentle smile. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, Joel.”

Fighting the urge to grab your hand and entangle your fingers, Joel smiled back. “Yeah, me too.” He wanted to kick himself for not saying more, for not asking you out for a real date. He just couldn’t find his words.

How was it that you made him so nervous?

Joel spent the next week in some kind of weird liminal space between a dream and reality, between agonizing confusion and utter happiness. Lunch with you on Sunday felt like a date – he asked you with the intention of it being a date, even if you didn’t know that yet. He spent the week thinking about that lunch, how you teased each other, laughed, shared stories of your past. How your gazes locked for longer than necessary, touches lingered, the smiles never fell from your faces.

It was wonderful, yet nothing was said of what it all meant – which was his fault, probably. Hence the roller coaster of feelings throughout the week.

He could tell you felt it, too. Doing as Tommy suggested, he started paying close attention to how you acted around him, how you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. It was all starting to come together. He could finally see what Tommy was talking about.

You liked him. You really liked him, Joel Miller, overworked single father.

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that someone liked him. It’d been way too long since he felt that way, that spark of hope for something more.

For the first time in a long time, he slept well the night before and woke early, eager to face the day and see you before heading off to work. He was already out front, filling a birdfeeder Sarah asked for, when you arrived.

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he greeted, pulling the car door open for you once you parked in the driveway. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled up at him, taking his hand to help you out of the car. Your touch electric on his roughened palm.

“Hiya, Joel.” Your voice washed over him, warm as honey and twice as sweet. “Whatcha doing out here?’

Gesturing to the red barn-style feeder Sarah picked, he finished filling it with the wild bird seed the clerk insisted birds loved. “Just fillin’ our new birdfeeder.”

“Oh, what a cute feeder!” You admired the intricate features as it hung from the post Joel installed. “Sarah has been talking nonstop about birds this week. Hopefully we’ll see some good ones.”

“Hope so,” Joel hummed in return. “Don’t know much about birds personally, but I’m sure Sarah’ll teach me.” Your smile brightened at his sheepish grin.

“I have a bird guide I could give her to help identify all the different types that visit the feeder.” Your face lit up with excitement. “I even have binoculars from when I took an ornithology class in undergrad. I’ll bring them when I pick up Sarah this afternoon.”

“Orna what now?” Joel questioned. He had no idea what kind of class you were talking about, but he loved how smart you were.

“Ornithology,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable with a soft giggle. “It’s the study of birds. It was a really cool class. We had field trips around campus once a week to go bird watching. I got pretty good at naming the different species that we saw, but it’s been a while.”

In awe of you, Joel’s eyes crinkled with the strength of his grin. “Would you, uh, maybe want to go on an adventure with us tomorrow?” he asked, stumbling a bit over his words, a nervous energy welling up in his gut as he once again sort of asked you out. “We could go for a hike in the county park, and you could teach us about birds.”

You gazed at him, lips pursed in thought, for long enough that Joel began to fidget, brimming with recurring doubt. Did he misinterpret the signs after all? He wouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t any good at this stuff anymore. You responded before he could spiral back into the land of self-doubt. “That sounds great, Joel. I’d love to.”

A visceral relief washed through him. “It’s a date then,” he said, his voice deep and rough while his dark chocolate eyes locked with yours. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as your eyebrows rose in surprise. Too quickly, doubt clouded your pretty eyes, and you laughed it off like he was teasing you. Joel sighed. He would be more direct next time. He’d get the hang of asking a woman on a date again someday. Hopefully.

“We’ll have to go early, is that okay? Birds are more active in the early morning hours,” you explained, heading for the door to find Sarah.

“That’s fine. We’ll make a day of it, grab lunch somewhere when we’re done.” Joel followed you into the house, already plotting out conversations in his head on how to properly ask you on a date.

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Joel and before he knew it, the job was finished, and it was only mid-afternoon when he arrived home. You pulled into the driveway with Sarah shortly after him and he came down from taking a shower to find the pair of you on the living room floor playing a racing video game.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah exclaimed as he kissed the top of her head and took a seat on the couch. It didn’t take long before Sarah asked him to play as well and the three of you were taking turns racing against each other, laughing when one of you crashed.

There were moments, when your gaze would connect with Joel’s and he’d swear you shared the same thought – this was how it could be if you were together, a family.

“Do you want to stay for pizza? Tommy and your dad are coming over,” Joel asked when Sarah’s attention focused elsewhere.

“We have an early morning ahead of us, Miller. Don’t be up late partying with the guys,” you replied with a smile that reached your twinkling eyes. “I’ll stay for a bit, but then I need to go dig out the old binoculars and get my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” he murmured, watching your eyes widen as you smile demurely.

“You say the sweetest things, Joel.” Your voice held a teasing tone that drove Joel nuts. How was he ever going to convince you that he was serious?

Shortly thereafter, Tommy arrived, pizza and beer in hand. “Come on, Millers! I come bearing gifts. JB here yet?”

“I’m right here, ya troglodyte,” your dad called from the front yard, stepping up the porch steps as Tommy whirled around.

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“A troglodyte. Learned it from Spud and thought it fitting since you don’t close doors behind you.” He winked at you as he teased the younger Miller brother. Placing a kiss on your cheek, he added, “Hey Spud, haven’t seen you in a bit. Must be working too hard. Miller! You workin’ my daughter too hard?”

Joel spluttered. He was too busy gazing at you to pay much attention to JB and feared he got busted. “I hardly think so,” he grumbled, fighting the blush he knew rose to his cheeks.

“Ah, in the same ol’ grumpy mood, I see. Maybe this’ll help.” Your dad placed a 12-pack of Joel’s favorite beer on the coffee table before taking a seat in the recliner he always chose at Joel’s place.

The five of you sat around the living room, eating pizza with beer for the men and sodas for you and Sarah. The conversation revolved mainly around construction work, and you ended up taking your leave before the sun dipped below the horizon. Your dad followed not long after, eager to relax in his own well-worn recliner.

“Alright, nugget. It’s time for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Joel said, swinging the young girl over his shoulder much to her delight. “Say goodnight to Uncle Tommy.”

“G’night Uncle Tommy,” Sarah squealed as Joel tickled her sides.

“G’night nugget.”

Always a good kid, Sarah went right to bed after brushing her teeth, but not before pestering Joel about why they had to get up early on a Saturday. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked her in. “We’re going on a surprise adventure. Now, to sleep with you.”

Returning to the living room, Tommy handed him another beer as the brothers watched Sportscenter. “Have you made any progress yet?” Tommy asked.

Matching dark eyes met as Joel shrugged. He knew his brother was talking about you. “Some, I guess. Told ya I took her to lunch on Sunday and that felt a lot like a date. I asked her to go on a hike with me and Sarah tomorrow. I told her it was a date after she agreed, but she thought I was jokin’.” He paused, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer. “Then, this afternoon, I told her she was beautiful and again she thought I was teasing.”

Swirling the bottle of beer in his hand, Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “She’s givin’ you a run for your money, brother. Good on her.”

“Good on her,” Joel mocked, but his tone quickly turned to pleading. “I need more advice. Surely you got something up your sleeve for women like her.”

“Nah, brother. The only way to get someone like her is to be yourself and keep chipping away. It’s clear she has as much self-doubt as you do, so it’ll take her time to believe you’re for real.” Tommy eyed his brother a moment as he mulled over the situation. “Though, I will say this. You need to start bein’ direct – come right out and ask her on a date, for fuck’s sake. Enough hinting at shit. It’s clearly gettin’ you nowhere.”

You arrived on the Millers’ doorstep bright and early the next morning, two travel mugs of coffee and a container of chocolate milk in hand. A pair of binoculars and Sibley’s Guide to Birds were tucked away in the bag you wore over your shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, Millers! The early bird gets the worm!”

Joel and Sarah were perched at the breakfast bar when you let yourself in, both looking half awake and less than enthusiastic about being up so early on a Saturday.

“Too damn cheerful for this early,” Joel grumbled half-heartedly. His pitiful smile looked more like a grimace, yet you found it adorable. It made you ache to run your fingers through his hair until you drew a real smile from his lips.

“Don’t gimme that. This was your idea, Joel Miller!” you sassed in return, patting his broad shoulders. “Let’s go!”

Herding cats, that was the perfect analogy to describe the next fifteen minutes as you tried to get the Millers moving and into Joel’s truck. Just when you’d get one heading for the door, the other would disappear. Finally, you managed to wrangle them both into the truck and you were well on your way to the preserve. The ride didn’t take long, Sarah peppering you with questions about birds she found in your guidebook as Joel drove. By the time Joel pulled into a parking spot at the entrance to the trails, everyone was wide awake and ready to hike.

The morning was crisp and refreshing as you zipped up your jacket and looked around. You’d never been to this preserve before and wanted to find a trail map, but the mini-Miller was too anxious to wait for that.

“I can hear the birds chirping already, Daddy! Come on!” Sarah exclaimed, charging toward the first trail excitedly.

Joel beamed as Sarah took off, turning to you before following her. “Ready?” He reached out a hand, palm up and fingers splayed, inviting you to grasp it.

Your eyes trailed from his outstretched hand to his heavy gaze, uncertain of what to make of the signals Joel gave off. The feelings you harbored for the man grew stronger each day, yet you couldn’t quite get a read on whether he shared even a fraction of those feelings. Somedays, you thought he did. Yet others, you figured he thought you had a crush on him and found amusing. Your heart sunk on those days, causing the doubt to linger every time he did something to make you think otherwise.

The moment carried on too long, you realized, as Joel’s warm eyes began to shutter, the tender smile starting to slip. Bolstering your nerves, you plunged ahead and grasped his large hand in yours, tangling your fingers with his thicker ones. His hand was warm, skin roughened from years of working with his hands, and it felt wonderful against your smoother skin.

Heat flashed up your chest and neck as Joel led you down the trail to catch up with Sarah. A broad smile never left your lips as you walked.

“I meant it, you know,” Joel’s deep, gruff voice rumbled from deep in his chest and you glanced up to meet his gaze. “What I said yesterday, about this being a date. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

Heart thumping wildly, your mouth opened and closed a few times before you found your words. “Are you sure? I mean, yes. Yes, I’m interested.” You winced at how flustered you sounded, tripping over your words. And, worse yet, why was your voice so squeaky?

“Never been surer in my life,” Joel confirmed, his gaze searing your skin as he watched you, taking in every minute change in expression. His hand squeezed yours gently, steadying the butterflies in your stomach.

“I would really like that,” you replied breathlessly, relieved to finally have confirmation that the moments between you and Joel weren’t all in your head. You were on Cloud 9 until reality smacked you in the face. “But what about my dad?”

Sarah popped around a copse of live oaks, startling you both from. “Come on, you slow pokes! The birdies aren’t gonna wait all day for us to find them!” Not trusting you both to follow her on your own, the little girl latched on to your hand and pulled you along the trail. “You need to help me find the birds,” Sarah reminded you.

Joel’s hand still clasped in yours, you dragged him behind you, grinning over your shoulder at him. “I’m liking this date already, Joel.”

He beamed back at you. The three of you walked in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of nature around you. When you spotted a bird blind, you handed Sarah the binoculars and the guidebook, challenging her to identify as many birds as she could from that spot. Joel stood next to you, watching Sarah enjoy the activity.

“Let’s see where this goes first before we worry about your dad,” he murmured. “I’d like to take you on a few dates first, okay?”

It made sense and you nodded, pleased at the way things were working out. Your hand remained in Joel’s throughout the birding adventure and though Sarah never mentioned it, her smile grew wide at the sight.

tbc

p.s. we should start building up to the good stuff in the next chapter.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx

[anqelically]

GOODBYE, MY DARLING | BEAST!OSAMU DAZAI

SUMMARY. you’ve set up a meeting with a member of the port mafia to gain information, yet the man that greets you treats you like an old friend from the past

WARNINGS. fem!reader, 2.8k words, beast!au spoilers, angst, you take oda’s place

NAVI | BSD MASTERLIST

you were never too keen on the idea of meeting someone whose face you’ve never seen. as a cautious woman, who also worked as a detective for a living, you’d normally deny a meeting with someone unfamiliar. however, to deny a gathering in your current situation could cost the life of a boy you took in as a subordinate.

the lives of those younger than you were of the utmost importance.

ryunosuke akutagawa was your subordinate, who, blindly, stormed into the headquarters of the most dangerous organization in yokohama. in order to save his little sister, akutagawa broke into the port mafia’s building by himself to get her back.

since he was a member of the agency, it was part of your mission to rescue him. as you walked towards a lone bar in ginza, you never forgot that. a cigarette burned away in your dominant hand as you walked towards bar lupin.

your aim was to aid akutagawa in what would happen after his escape from the port mafia. the reason you were meeting with the person in charge of of monetary security for the mafia was to gain information. with a threat dangerous to the port mafia, a bargain can be made. the akutagawas can be safe from the port mafia, and the port mafia can be safe from the government.

the cigarette in your hand was put out when you rubbed it against the brick wall. you threw the unfinished product into the trashcan nearby before you took quiet steps down the stairs towards the bar. you were sure it was the location based on the sign outside.

the moment you had opened the door, the mellow, low tune of jazz reached your ears. your e/c eyes scanned the almost empty bar in front of you. at the actual bar itself sat one lone man. from his stature, he was definitely not the old man you were expecting.

his hair, dark as coffee beans, covered his face before he turned around. a smile adorned the unfamiliar man’s face as he looked at you with a shine in his rich, brown eye. the other one seemed to be wrapped in bandages, just like the ends of his arms. he was handsome, if you had to say. but for someone dressed like a port mafia hitman, he greeted you like you knew each other well.

“n/n, it’s been a while,” he spoke, voice soft. “were you smoking again? i can smell the stench from a mile away, you know.”

“i suppose it’s not unusual for you to smell it,” you responded. “but you say it’s been a while... have we met before?”

the man closed his eye, an almost silent sigh escaping his mouth. once you could see his uncovered eye again, the shine that was once there seemed to dull. it was still there, but harder for you to see in the dimly lit bar. he pushed down the sphere of ice in his drink.

“no, we haven’t met yet. this is the first time. the first time i’ve entered this bar, first time i drank here, first time we’ve met here, in this crazy world. a whole lotta firsts, wouldn’t you say, n/n?”

“yeah, it’s a lot.”

you found yourself sitting one stool away from the man. a bittersweet silence was draped amongst the two of you and for some reason, you felt the urge to change it as soon as possible. you wanted to fall into light conversation you’d normally have with someone close to you. it was odd, really. you were here for a purpose, yet you sat by idly.

“hey, i’ve got a question.” if the man wasn’t going to speak first, you would. you asked, “if we’re going to sit here, what should i call you? i doubt you’d want me to call you mister bandages.”

“well, calling me yours would be just fine,” he playfully smirked at you. “darling wouldn’t be bad either.”

“so it’s going to be like that?”

“of course it is. i have a nickname for you, and you have one for me. it’s only fair, isn’t it? but, i have a question for you. if we’re going to be here, what would you like to drink? pick your poison, belladonna.”

you let your chin rest on your hand, “well, i usually only drink with my coworkers and when i’m tired. i always have a lime margarita, if you can make that for me, darling.”

he smiled as he went behind the bar, “hm, i suppose i can make it. but since you’re here with me for the first time, how about we drink something else for the first time too? i can make a mean french martini, surprisingly. i’ve watched it get made plenty of times.”

“if you insist, go ahead. if it tastes bad, don’t be surprised when i give you 0 stars.”

“ouch, how low.”

dazai, to your surprise, began to create the drink as if he knew the bar like the back of his hand. he grabbed the right drinks from their respective places without even looking at the labels to create the cocktail. it was as if the bar was his.

while he was at it, you asked him something that had been bothering you from the moment he first talked. “you called me n/n when i entered the bar, so it’s safe to say that it refers to me. why call me that?”

“why?” he hummed. “i should ask you that. do you not like it?”

“it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. it’s just… no one has ever called me that before. everyone just calls me y/n, but not you, clearly.”

he lowered his gaze and the corners of his lips turned up. that smile of his, you could read it clear as day. you were able to tell that this man wasn’t smiling from what you’ve said, not even genuinely smiling. he smiled for the sake of himself. you didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling, but you were sure it had to do with yourself. there was no way it didn’t.

“and no one’s ever called me their darling until you have, n/n. it’s another first for the both of us, and we did it together. but hey, i have some stories i’ve been living to tell you. can i?”

after giving him the go-ahead, he excitedly talked about dealing with a bomb and giving his underlings firm tofu. the way he told his stories was like a little child coming home from the first day of school and telling their parents about their new friends.

once he was done, he slid the drink right in front of you and took a seat. however, it was not the seat he was originally at when you walked into the bar. getting closer that he was, he sat on the stool to your left. he held up his drink and, as if it were engraved into your body, you clinked your glass against his without a thought.

“well go ahead, taste it! let’s see if it really is worth 0 stars,” he urged you.

the way he stared into your eyes with anticipation, it was another strange thing you’ve noticed. he was genuinely happy. he was probably the strangest person you’ve ever met, and you’ve met some odd people.

after having a thought, you picked up the glass. you pressed it against your lips and took a sip, aware of the eye on you. once you swallowed and set the drink down, you could see a satisfied smile in your peripheral vision.

“good, huh?” the brunette asked.

“it really is,” you confirmed. “not 0 stars.”

“see? what did i tell you, belladonna? a french martini suits you, though. you can always ask me to make you some if you want.”

“maybe. i’d ask if you can cook as well, but your firm tofu says otherwise.”

he chuckled, “yeah, i’m not much of a cook. i always had someone else cook for me. it was edible too. she was much better than i was at cooking. at a lot of things, actually.”

“she seems like a woman of talent.”

“that’s right, she was. i’ve missed her… i’ve missed her a lot these past years.”

“a mother?”

“nope, my mom had been long gone from my life. this woman… she was much more than that.”

you couldn’t find anything else to say, so you remained quiet. that was, until the bandage-wearing man brought up why you two even decided to meet in the first place. he asked for more details.

“a subordinate of mine is in danger, and i want to cut a deal. it’d be a miracle if he came out it one piece, let alone with the person he’s been searching for. if he makes it out, i have no doubt that the port mafia will hunt him down. i want to cut a deal that’ll benefit us both.”

after contemplating, he murmured, “akutagawa’s lucky to have come across a good teacher like you.”

“excuse me?”

“you don’t need to worry about akutagawa. after today, the mafia will never lay another finger on him. there’s no catch; he’ll be able to live the rest of his life in peace... besides, this is what i’ve had planned since the beginning... if he makes it out of the mafia headquarters alive, that is.”

what he told you was was confirmed your suspicions. taking another sip of the martini, you looked him straight in the eye. you’ve let yourself come off as laid back, but now your expression was stern. he was caught off-guard.

“tell me, why did you lure him? why did you lure akutagawa into your headquarters, osamu dazai?”

it went silent, so much so that the music didn’t reach either of your ears.

“guess you’ve figured it out. i can’t fool you, can i?” he quipped. “you’ve always been quite intelligent.”

“you’re the gave out the hints. when talking about the tofu, you talked about underlings. you spoke like you had a lot of them. then, you talked about akutagawa without me even saying his name. not to mention how you’ve had plans from the beginning. only the port mafia’s boss would know, and be able to plan much. you’re the reason akutagawa is searching for his sister in the first place. this is over.”

“no, wait-!”

dazai reached out his arm, but he halted at the familiar click of a gun. his eye widened and he could only look at you with a horrified expression. he didn’t even have to look down to know your trusty pistol was in your hand.

“please put the gun away,” dazai begged, his face contorting to an expression of sorrow.

“i’m sorry, but i’m afraid i can’t do that. if i do, who knows what’ll happen to me? but then again, i’m already screwed if this is a trap. the port mafia’s boss is cunning, so i’m done acting like we’re close.”

“i didn’t want to become the boss! i… and i didn’t think of it as an act, not at all. it’s the truth, i swear.”

he looked at you so sincerely that you almost dropped the gun from your side. raw emotion was behind his words, or so you thought. maybe he could still be lying to you? maybe lying to himself. after all, there are liars so good that they’ve deceived themselves.

you looked down at your lap, “i guess that i’ve got to come up with another plan for saving akutagawa. well, if i can leave this establishment alive, that is.”

dazai insisted, “this isn’t a trap. i would never even dream of doing something like that to you, n/n.”

“my name is l/n y/n, not n/n.”

another shot to the chest.

“right, y/n. you asked me why i lured akutagawa to the mafia headquarters, right? well, i did it to protect this world.”

you raised a brow, “this world?”

“this is but one of countless worlds. and in another world, the original world, you and i were- we were—”“

“i love you,” he recalls the light touch of your fingers burning up his skin, “and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“—we were friends. you and i were friends in the original world. we drank at this bar and spent time together talking about the most insignificant things.”

dazai can also remember your last moments. you were laying in your own pool of blood when he finally caught up to you. when you spoke to him, you spoke in that same calm voice you’ve always had. and then, the smoke of the cigarette in your hand had dissipated into nothing, just like the light in your eyes.

“even if that were true, that doesn’t change what you did to akutagawa and his sister. you separated them, and now here we are,” you reminded dazai. “we may have been close in the original world, as you call it, but we are enemies now.

“i love you—“

dazai’s eyes searched for something the air that wasn’t there. his eye darted around, and his lips would slightly part and shut after a few seconds. his face twisted as he continued to remember everything.

“—and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“it was hard... it was really hard fighting mimic without you in the organization. i had no choice but to take over for mori and make enemies of everyone around me to expand the business,” dazai finally looked back at you. slowly, his hands reached for your cheeks. “everything i did was for this world’s- for you. i needed a world where you can sit here, happy with the people around you again.”

for a reason you couldn’t decipher, the hand that held your gun began to tremble. well, maybe it had been trembling for a long time and you were only now just recognizing it. dazai’s hands, cold and soft at the touch, held your face as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.

it was a touch of a lover.

coming down to that conclusion, everything made sense to you. dazai always looked at you like you were closest thing to him, a lifeline if you may. his nicknames, the flirting, it was all because...

“we were in a relationship, weren’t we?”

dazai would’ve missed your words if the proximity between the two of you wasn’t this close. the way he froze in his spot had answered enough, and you could only sigh. slowly, you put your gun back into your jacket and rested your hands on dazai’s.

you gently pried his hands off of your face and held them between your own. you felt no specific feelings from the action, but you were sure dazai did based off of how his face softened.

“i’m sorry, but you have to leave your feelings out of this. i don’t know how you know what happened in the original world, and i won’t ask. i just have to tell you that i don’t feel what you do. like i said, you and i are enemies here. as long as you control the port mafia and i’m part of the armed detective agency, it’ll remain this way.”

“nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“i see,” dazai took his hands back and rested them on his lap. “well, the reason i invited you here in the first place was to say goodbye.”

“you really don’t plan on ever seeing me again?”

“you said it, didn’t you? we’re enemies as long as we’re associated with the organizations we’re in. so after today, i won’t see you again. it’ll only hurt more if i do.”

“then this makes this a goodbye,” you watched as he stood up from his stool, hands in his pockets.

“yes, it does. a life with someone you can say goodbye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. am i wrong?”

“i guess you wouldn’t be... i haven’t said goodbye to anyone and have it pain me,” you replied, feeling bad for the port mafia’s boss.

“i hope you don’t for a long time. but one day, that time will come. you won’t be prepare for it, but all i can tell you is to let it in. feel everything, and see where it takes you.” dazai faintly smiled before he turned his back to you and began to walk away, “goodbye, n/n.”

“goodbye, my darling.”

painfully, dazai grit his teeth and resisted thew urge to look back. in goodbyes, that’s what they always do. they turn around and crash into the person they’re supposed to be leaving. he didn’t want to do that. this was his goodbye to you, even if it didn’t mean much. if he was going to keep this world functioning, he won’t leave it with you in any pain.

‘be happy, okay? even if it’s without me, be happy. as long as you’re alive, somewhere, i’ll be happy too’

it was a final thought he kept to himself.

NOTE. this remains one of my favorite fics i wrote (i <3 beast!dazai) so i had to bring it over first 🤞🏻

—reblog to support an author + join my taglist !

@lovedazai @enoojnij @spenzitz @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @4nthonyyliving @ruru-kiss @worldussysblog @janbannan @underthetree845 @little-miss-chaoss @siiyoko @osameowdazai

[frankenkyle19]

Glitter On The Floor After The Party

description/warnings: Peter x reader at a New Year’s Eve party, Peter admits that he’s never had a New Year’s kiss and against better judgement, reader decides to give him one. Smut, unprotected sex, oral (male and fem receiving), teasing, just a bunch of tenderness and it’s so cute okay thanks bye

Based off of the amazing request I got from our lord and savior @silverzoomies I hope you enjoy it and I hope it lives up to your expectations!!

word count: 4.6k

Loving you,

Isn’t the right thing to do

How Can I

Ever change things that I feel?

If I could

Baby, I’d give you my world

The soft background music of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” played amongst the chatter and laughs of conversation across the room. You stood leaning against the wall, sipping on a solo cup of lemonade as you did one of your favorite things. People watching. 

You didn’t like to be in the middle of a conversation, but listening to it from the outside was something you did enjoy. You didn’t try to snoop, if someone was having a conversation they obviously intended to keep hush hush, you moved on to listen to a louder, carefree conversation instead. 

What day was it again? Why were you at a party? Oh right, it was New Year’s eve and Charles had decided to host a party at the school for the mutants and others who resided there. As a way to celebrate the progress that had been made in the last year and to hope for a good year to come. 

You never really felt like you fit in with the other mutants. Sure you had a power, and if that’s what people thought deemed you a mutant, then yes, you were one. You wouldn’t even consider it a power, it was more of a curse. A turn off to just about all men who found out about it one way or the other, despite it not affecting them in any way. They just saw you as different and decided you weren’t worth the time of day. Too much work. Whatever. 

Speaking of time, that had everything to do with your power. You were able to slow down time, practically freeze something in the moment.Unlike a certain silver speedster who was able to move  at the speed of light, you were only able to freeze a moment for a certain amount of time, and it took a lot of focus. It was a dumb power, you always thought so, and you weren’t sure it would ever even be useful to the x-men, despite protests from Charles that everyone is important in their own way. Sounded like a load of bull shit.

Figures that one of your only friends was the silver haired speedster himself. Your powers were similar but yet so different, and sometimes it led to arguments between the two of you. You always managed to get over it though.

Peter Maximoff was one of the first friends you’d made when you joined. Around your age, a cocky super speedy mutant definitely caught your eye.

The two of you had been friends for a few months now and had gotten closer quicker than you imagined. Peter and you staying up late to have secret movie marathons, with him always insisting you rewatch Star Wars despite your strong dislike for rewatching movies when you could watch new ones. You did it anyway, being with Peter suddenly made those movies bearable, as if he possessed some other kind of power than his super speed. The power to make any situation a little more bearable. 

You hadn’t seen Peter yet tonight, strangely, and wondered if maybe he wouldn’t be attending. He had no reason not to but as you wracked your brain for an answer, you couldn’t come up with one. Odd. Maybe he was with his family? His mother and little sister? Perhaps he enjoyed spending time with them more. Psssh of course he did, that was his family that he loved, so why suddenly did you feel so jealous. 

Finishing the last of your lemonade you made your way back over to the drinks table to pour yourself something stronger. Maybe a little rum and coke would solve all your problems. Hell, maybe you’d even be able to chill out enough to find someone to hook up with. Lord knows you needed it. You’d been unusually uptight lately and the only thing you could think of was the fact that you hadn’t been laid in a milenia. 

It wasn’t like you to do the dirty with some person who you didn’t even know, but if the night led up to that, you’d have no qualms as long as said person knew where the clit was and how to make you feel good. Was that too much to ask for? 

You were knocked out of your thoughts when a harsh breeze whipped by you, followed by the slight color of silver.

Peter… So he was here. 

A few seconds later and your cup was snatched from your hands and in the hands of someone else who sipped from it. When he put the cup down you saw his familiar deep brown eyes and silver hair. You would be annoyed at the fact that he’d stolen your drink if it wasn’t for the fact that you were actually quite happy he’d finally showed up. 

For being a speedster, he sure was late to a lot of things. Odd, wasn’t it?

“Miss me?” He asked, snatching a cookie from the table and biting into it, a few crumbs cascading down onto his Pink Floyd shirt. He obviously didn’t care as he took another bite and the same thing happened. His silver eyebrows were raised, waiting on an answer from you.

What had he asked again? Oh right, if you missed him…

“I thought you weren’t coming,” You said, avoiding his question. Had you missed him? You weren’t really sure the answer to his question.  It was something you’d have to ponder on for a while.

“Where else would I be on New Year’s Eve?” He asked, finishing off his cookie and scanning the table no doubt for what he’d eat next.

“I don’t know, maybe your mom’s place?” You shrugged. To be honest you didn’t know, you were just guessing. 

“Nope, her and my lil’ sis are at a friend's house celebrating I think. I wasn’t invited. No one wants a freak at their new years party, right?” He chuckled, but you knew inside he didn’t find it very funny.

“Maybe they didn’t want you stealing anything-” You teased, trying to lighten the mood, and it seemed to work. Peter laughed once more, real this time as he shook his head.

“Yeah that’s probably it, never thought of that. Yer a genious” He said, and you noticed another cookie in his hand, already half eaten. 

You took this chance to get a good look at the man in front of you. The silver haired mutant of which you harbored a very secret obsession. How could you not? Anyone who didn’t was either lying or blind. He was perfect in so many ways. From the way his silver hair sometimes fell into his face, to the way his brown eyes sparkled whenever he saw you. 

As much as you’d love for something to happen between the two of you, the risk was just too high. You couldn’t in good intention do anything and risk your friendship with the speedster. It was too risky.

Still, sometimes the way he looked at you had you wondering how he felt. Where his feelings lay. Was there something more or were you reading too far into it all? Probably the latter…

You glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. Thirty minutes till midnight. Thirty minutes till the new year. It felt so close but seemed to be an eternity away. You wondered what this new year would bring you. What you’d accomplish within the x-men. Maybe you’d find a more useful way to use your powers. One could only hope. 

While you were zoned out on the clock Peter had stuffed multiple things into his mouth and now when you turned back to him you saw the corners of his lips were covered in white cream. Jesus…

You raised a brow, shaking your head as you brought your thumb up to wipe the corners of his mouth before wiping said thumb on the sleeve of his silver jacket, much to his dismay.

Peter let out a quiet chuckle and the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background. It felt as if the rest of the world had slowed around the two of you but you knew for certain you weren’t using your powers right now. It was just the effect Peter had on you. Damn it was strong. 

Peter met your eyes before looking away and if you weren’t so distracted by the way his hair fell in perfect waves over his forehead, you’d have seen the way his cheeks darkened and the way he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, clearing his throat.

The odd wave of feeling faded between the two of you and it went back to normal. You chatted and laughed over drinks until the both of you were tipsy, you much more so than Peter considering his metabolism, and by then it was only two minutes until midnight.

The rest of the party had party poppers and noise makers in their hands, read for the clock to turn to 12:00, but you and Peter were still talking to each other, too caught up in conversation to get with the flow of things.

“You know, I’ve never had a New Year's kiss.” Peter blurted out, setting his solo cup down to look at you. His expression was soft and you could see the way his body was burning through the alcohol he’d drank as if it was nothing.

What an odd thing to tell your friend two minutes before midnight. I mean, he wasn’t insinuating anything, surely? He was known to over share many things, including the women he’d had sex with, which keep in mind had not been many these days, and the pornos he’d rented that week. That’s just the kind of dude he was. Absolutely no shame in his game.

You let out a surprised chuckle. Quicksilver had never had a New Year’s kiss? Such an odd thing for him to have not experienced.

“That’s a shame.” Was all you said, setting down your own cup, the drink in it now long gone and deep in your system. 

Peter seemed surprised by your response, as if he was expecting you to reassure him and tell him you hadn’t had a New Year’s kiss either, but that hadn’t been the case.

He opened his mouth to speak once more when people began to cheer around you. 11:59. 60 seconds…

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he chuckled, wishing he hadn’t just told you about his lack of New Year’s Eve smooching. 

30 seconds. The pull to Peter was so much stronger now, as if the universe was pushing you together like opposite sides of a magnet. 

25 seconds.

Why did you feel this way? Jesus Christ what was wrong with you? Surely you wouldn’t…

15….

The faint sound of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here could be heard and you were surprised that Peter hadn’t pointed it out yet, considering he was at the moment wearing a Pink Floyd shirt..

How I wish,

How I wish you were here 

We’re just two lost souls 

Swimming in a fishbowl 

Year after year…

10…

No you couldn’t

9…

Get it together!

8…

He’s just your friend! Nothing more!

7… 

But god the way he looked at you..

6…

No, Don’t give in. Don’t ruin what you already have 

5…

Fuck. Screw it. Screw it all.

With a heavy breath you grabbed Peter by the front of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss. He hadn’t expected it and to be fair neither had you. Time did seem to slow around the two of you now as you felt a surge of electricity crackle through the air between you as Peter finally knocked himself out of his dazed confusion and kissed you back.

4…

His lips were so soft

3..

You could find yourself getting used to this.

2..

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck

1..

A deep breath, never breaking the kiss and there it was.. Peter’s New Year’s kiss. Finally, he had what he wanted, and so did you. 

Once it hit midnight the two of you didn’t break away. You pulled at each other, urging the other to come closer. You wanted to crawl into each other's skin, get as close as possible. You didn’t care who saw, who judged. The only thing that mattered in that moment between you two was the other. 

You felt Peter’s Hardness against your inner thigh as you leaned against him, coaxing a moan from his puffy lips as he glanced down at you, swallowing hard. That was all the warning you got before he sped the two of you off, time slowing back down once you were both safely in his room at the school. It was just as oddly decorated as his basement-room at his moms house. Obscure posters and gaming machines like Pinball and pac-man. 

Peter attacked your neck with his lips, urging you towards his unmade bed before pushing you down onto it. Rushed  and messily he tore off his jacket and shirt, tossing it to the floor. He paused, glancing down at you beneath him.

“I- is this okay?” He asked, his hands creeping up under your shirt and tickling your rib cage with his long, slender fingers.

“More than okay,” you laughed out. Yea, it was way more than okay. What wasn’t okay was the fact that he stopped. That just wouldn’t do.

You glanced down at the ever growing bulge in the front of his too-tight jeans before your hand cupped him gently, causing him to jut into the feeling.

“Shit- really? We’re really doing this?” He asked, grinding his lower half into your hand for more friction.

You used your free hand to pull him down into another kiss full of teeth and tongue, gently massaging his length through his clothing, causing small whimpers and whines to fall from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Fuck yeah we’re really doing this, here- just-“ you urged him off of you until the two of you had switched positions, Peter laying against the bed, you leaning over him.

“Please-“ He mewled, looking up at you with his desperate dark brown eyes, begging for the slightest touch. 

Hearing him beg was music to your ears and as much as you wanted to get him to beg more, you were also impatient and wanted to tear his clothes from his body. You’d waited too long for this, you were not going to waste a second. 

You palmed him over his clothing one more before undoing the zipper and button on his jeans, trying to get them down his legs.

“Peter- a little help?” You asked, brow raised as you glanced at him.

Peter, who had previously been in his own little world refocused on you, jumping at the sound of his name coming from your lips. It took him a moment to register what you were asking from him and then, the clumsy idiot he was, in a desperate attempt to kick off his pants, he ended up kicking you off the bed. 

Landing with a thump you gasped, not expecting it and not being able to do anything to prevent it. You peeked up over the edge of the bed to find a mortified Peter who was frozen in place with his pants halfway off his legs as he looked at you.

“Shit- are you okay? I’m so sorry oh my god-“ He helped you back on the bed and despite your giggles and light reassurance he felt bad. 

“Let me make it up to you?” His tone dropped at this and you knew he had an idea. A devilish idea. He picked you up like you were nothing and laid you back on the bed, settling between your legs as he carefully hiked up your shirt until it had revealed your bra, and inside of said bra, your bomb ass titties.

Peter would never lie, and your boobs were absolutely smoking. He was a tits expert after all, from watching hours of pornos, he’d still never seen one’s as pretty as yours, and he had an idea that it was probably because they were yours, and he was now beginning to realize his true feelings for you were much more than just ‘friends’

He practically ripped off your pants, tossing them onto the ground next to his own clothes before his hands traced your thighs.

Your panties were soaked and you were sure there was a wet spot on them that Peter would soon see. It was embarrassing how fast he had gotten you so worked up.

And just like you expected, Peter’s eyes locked onto your clothed cunt, nearly drooling as his thumb brushed over the wet spot in your panties.

The touch felt electric and so, so damn good which was ridiculous because he’d barely touched you at all.

He gently rubbed his thumb across your clothed clit, loving the way that you reacted to his touch.

“Poor thing, need quickie to make you feel good?” He chuckled devilishly and you so badly wanted to kick him. Now was not the time to tease.

“Peter! Please!” You huffed, wriggling around underneath him as he slowly and teasingly pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. He parted your thighs further to give him better access to your core.

His pupils seemed to dilate as he zoned in on your throbbing cunt and with a shaky breath he leaned forward, parting your folds with his tongue.

Your hands found their way to his hair as you tugged gently on the silver strands, urging him closer.

Peter got the hint and buried his face further into your pussy, moaning at your taste and wetness. All for him. 

It had always been all for him.

His pink tongue jabbed at your clit several times before his lips gently wrapped around the nub, sucking gently, but enough that you could feel it. Hell could you feel it.

Your head fell back into the pillows, unable to keep it up anymore as your legs quivered around Peter’s head. The sight was heavenly. A head of silver hair lapping at your cunt, dark brown eyes glancing up at you as he flicked his tongue inside of you before pulling out to give attention to your clit.

You were surprised by how well he actually ate you out. Most men you’d been with were messy and not in a good way, totally missing any points of pleasure down there, but Peter. God was he good at it. 

He continued his actions, speeding up every now and then until your whines became more desperate and your hips bucked up against his face. Somehow, without ever being together intimately, Peter just knew your tell tale signs that you were close. Maybe the porn had paid off.

“Peter!” You squealed as he pulled away for what felt like the fifteenth time. Your body was shaking with pleasure and a layer of sweat covered your skin, making you glisten. 

“What baby girl? What’s wrong? Doesn’t it feel so nice?” He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh as he teased you, his palms rubbing over your knees as he peeked up at you through his eyelashes.

You totally wanted to kick him right now. He was being such an ass.

“Peter! Please- fuck I was so close! This isn’t fucking funny anymore!” You groaned, urging his head back down to your pussy and finally he followed your lead.

He let you guide him back to your core and he began to lap away at it once more, closing his eyes as he moaned against you. His tongue moved inhumanly fast and it was quite literally the best thing you’d ever felt. Better than any store bought vibrator that was available. 

“Fuck! Oh s-shit Peter- feels so good please don’t stop- please please don’t stop this time baby please-“ you begged, holding him by his hair, tugging hard on it as he groaned, open mouthed against you. 

With a few more flicks of his tongue and sucks against you, you were cumming, your release coating Peter’s lips and chin as he did his best to clean you up, moaning against you.

Eventually you had to pull him away because he was so lost in your taste. Carefully you pulled him up by his silver locks, seeing the fucked out, happy expression on his face. 

“So fucking good-“ he wiped his mouth on his arm before sitting up a bit, coming to himself as he finally got enough oxygen.  

Catching your breath, you pulled your shirt and bra fully off, finally being fully naked before you pulled Peter into another kiss, getting on top of him.

He looked up at you with the softest brown puppy dog eyes he could muster, chest heaving as he let a quiet whine slip past his lips.

“Definitely getting much more than a New Year's kiss.” You laughed, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down while keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

“Fuckkk- please touch me- I’m literally throbbing baby you’ve got no idea how much I need you-“

“I think I have some idea,” you gently wrapped your hand around his red leaky cock once his boxers were off, and the sound that Peter made was something straight out of a porno.

“Shhh, Peter you’re really loud-“ you shook your head as you thumbed over the tip of him, watching as your thumb spread the opaque fluid across his pretty pink head.

“Really really want a new years kiss somewhere else-“ Peter panted, despite how desperate he was he was still cracking jokes. Of course. You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but you had a better idea. 

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down, face to face with his throbbing dick as you pressed a soft feather light kiss to the tip, watching the way Peter’s breath hitched the second you did.

You had him wrapped around your finger, and it was everything you ever wanted and more. Finally, after all this time. You had him. He was yours.

“Oh f-fuck I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum-“

“Peter I’ve barely touched you-“ your brows furrowed at his admission, honestly surprised. You had gotten him that worked up from barely touching him? To be fair he had done quite the same thing to you previously.

“Don’t- wanna cum yet- wanna fuck you please?” He asked, batting his eyes in a much too innocent way for how sinful the situation was.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to fuck you. As much as you wanted to explore his body, there would be time for that later. You too had all the time in the world now.

He pulled you down with him onto the bed as he tried to manhandle you down onto your back and before you knew it he was over top of you, leaning in between your legs, nudging your core with the tip of his cock.

“Can I?” He asked, looking up at you, his hair a disheveled mess of silver on top of his head.

“No condom?” You asked, brushing your thumb across his cheek as he shyly nodded, not meeting your eye, his next words surprising you.

“I-if that’s okay- I saw you were on birth control I was snooping around your room the other da-“

“Wait, pause right there, you were snooping around my room? Peter!” You shoved at his shoulder, an annoyed look settled on your face “what’s wrong with you? Creep!”

Peter put his hands up in surrender as he blushed hard, becoming shy now at his confession.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious! You know me! I'm a snoop!”

“Peter I cannot believe you right now but- dammit, yes. Yes just fuck me already please or im going to explode.”

Peter chuckled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly slipped inside of you, your slick mixed with his saliva from Peter’s previous actions with his tongue making him glide inside easily. 

The both of you gasped in unison at the feeling of being so close together in such an intimate setting. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. There was almost no pain, despite how deeply he was stretching you out. It was like the two of you were meant for each other.

You clutched onto Peters shoulders as he gave a few experimental thrusts into you, shaky breaths mingling together in the air between your bodies. 

Peter breathed out your name through a moan and you were sure it was the most magical sound you had ever heard and would ever hear.

“Fuck- to be fair I had no idea this was how the night was going to turn out-“ Peter cursed, sweat forming on his brow, not from exhaustion but from pleasure and the restraint it took to hold himself back from fucking you so hard the bed broke.

You laughed lightly, moaning as he hit a spot even deeper inside of you before pulling back out and repeating his actions.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Perfect way to start the New Year in my opinion.” You grinned before your smile was replaced with a gasp as Peter began to speed up his thrusts.

You didn’t fail to miss the way that his body vibrated with each thrust, fucking into you with purpose as he planted kisses and love bites all across your neck and shoulders before sucking one of your breasts into his mouth.

He hummed around the hardened bud before letting go of it with a pop.

“I just gotta say baby- these titties- you’ve been hiding them from me for tooooo long. They are bangin!” You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his choice of words.

“F-fuck-“ he cursed again, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fucked into you with a kind of desperation you’d never seen from him before.

You didn’t even need him to tell you, you just nodded in understanding, biting your bottom lip between your teeth.

The two of you were close and your bodies were racing to the finish, chasing your euphoric highs.

“I-I-I’m-“ he choked out, unable to form the words.

“Shh, shh I know Peter, I know, me too.” You reassured him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in place and making him go farther inside of you, surely bruising your cervix.

Peter froze against you, humping against you twice more before stilling, filling you up with his warm seed.

The feeling finally threw you over the edge, your body seizing against his, arching up against him before collapsing limply back against the sheets.

The two of you caught your breath before Peter pulled out and laid next to you, tracing your stomach with his finger.

“Holy shit- that- Jesus that was- wow-“ Peter couldn’t find the words as he stared at you in disbelief.

You didn’t really have the words either so you just looked up at him and said,

“Happy New Year’s Peter.”

And he simply responded with

“Happy New Years.”

Maybe this new year wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[mjoffic]

red velvet cake - bf!eddie munson x fem!reader x brother!steve harrington

Summary: Your relationship continues to blossom with Eddie, however your older brother Steve isn’t the biggest fan and lines are tested

Warnings: swearing, smoking, tense situations, angst, fight fight fight, let me know if I miss anything!

Word count: 5.3k

a/n: Hey, all! Welcome to my first official post! If you enjoy, please like, reblog, etc! This was just a lil blurb, but I have other things in the works, so I’m hoping this goes well and I can continue to share with you all!

               “I need you and your big hair to calm down.”

           Your brother looked to you quickly from the bathroom mirror, his face scrunched up at your comment.  “My hair is not big.”

           “You say that and yet you’ve gone through your second can of hair spray this month,” you retorted, grabbing the can quickly in your hand.

           Steve snatched for it but you held it behind you, ceasing any attempt of him grabbing it.  He sighed with a comb still lodged in his brown tuffs and leaned back against the counter.  Another disagreement between the two of you.  Nothing was new seeing as that was the typical way a brother and sister relationship stemmed.  From the time you were born, only a short year after Steve, you were at each other’s throats constantly and could never come to an agreement on anything.  Steve would steal your favorite toy that day from the toybox, so you’d steal the TV remote and sit on it to his disdain when your parents allowed you both to pick the nightly movie after dinner.  You’d spread gossip in the middle school of your older brothers crush on Tammy Thompson (before the singing career), and somehow most girls still believed in cooties, so he’d steal your clothes from your locker before gym class was over.  Today’s topic of conversation once again revisited your current dating life and now you were stealing his most prized possession.  This was the never ending, vicious, and annoying cycle only those who had a sibling could understand at the end of the day.

           “I really don’t see what the big deal is,” you said, crossing your arms.  “Eddie and I have been seeing each other for almost a year now and you still refuse to hang out with him.”

           “Yeah, it’s Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.  He runs that club Dustin and Mike are in, huge nerd, and he’s in a band that plays at the Hideout” he grumbled.  “Also, he’s way older than you.”

           “He’s twenty, Steve.  It’s not like I’m a kid anymore,” you replied.  “Also, he’s a senior.  I’m a senior.  And Hellfire is actually really cool if you’d take up the invites I’ve extended.”

           Steve shook his head, wagging his finger.  “No, no, you’re a senior.  This is his third time being a senior.”

           “And he’s gonna graduate!  He finally has a C in Mrs. O’Donnell’s!”

           “It’s still weird.  And just because you date him doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

           A groan escaped you and your arms dropped from their defensive position.  “But the least you could do is be civil with him.  I can’t bring him over because you make everything so uncomfortable, and now with Nancy’s party coming I’d just like the two of you to get along for once!”

           Steve looked to you after your minor outburst and his eyes traveled your face.  He couldn’t help but be a little annoyed by you but he hated that in a sense, you were right.  He’d only based his opinions on Eddie off of what he knew from when he went to Hawkins High and what he heard around town.  You’d always dealt with his on and off again flings that never worked out and continued to accept each one as they came through the door so why couldn’t he do the same for you?  It might be the older sibling in him screaming at him to watch out for his baby sister but you were getting older and dating was just naturally right behind.  The thought ran a chill down Steve’s spine.

           “Fine,” he sighed, standing straight.  “I’ll…  I’ll try. Just this once.  But I’m not going to the board game nights, though.”

           You squealed and the jump that came with it shocked your brother.  You could get past his comments this once.  “Thank you, thank you!  Oh, Steve, I could hug you!”  You made a face realizing what just came out of your mouth and you shook your head.  “But I won’t.  Gross.  Here’s your even grosser hairspray, I have to go call Eddie!”

           You shoved the can back in his hand and spun on your heels, now ready to face your boyfriend and his dislike for Steve.  Steve, however, felt a small smile creep up on his face at your antics.  His head snapped up at ‘hairspray’ and he groaned.

           “It’s not just hair spray!” he yelled after you, before looking to himself in the mirror.  “It’s Farrah Fawcett spray.”

                                            ●          ●          ●          ●

             Eddie had come to pick you up for your nightly drive together as soon as you had called, and you couldn’t help the excitement that buzzed in you.  He took note of this and turned down the head pounding sounds of Motley to focus in as soon as you had climbed in the passenger seat.  “What’s got you riled up, sweetheart?  Missed me that much?”

           You smirked, looking to the doe eyed boy. “You’re so full of it, Eds.”

           He tossed his hand to his heart, making those big eyes of his twinkle in the light of the dashboard.  “Only full of my love for you.”

           You couldn’t help the laugh that bustled out and Eddie soon joined in, his hand now grabbing yours in his.  He squeezed gently and you squeezed back, the cold of his rings sending goosebumps up your arm.  “Now come on, spill.  You sounded way too excited on the phone.”

You nodded.  “While yes, I definitely missed you, I talked to Steve today about Nancy’s party.”

           His hand lost a little grip to yours and you looked to him quickly, the smile on his face slowly disappearing and you frowned in response.  “Eddie, it was a good conversation.  He didn’t even say much in the negative category.”

           “Much?” Eddie scoffed.  “So I’m guessing we’re gonna talk about it.”

           “Well, yeah.  I mean, I would just really like you both to get along,” you shrugged.  

           Eddie made a face.

           “For one night.”

           An eyebrow raised as he looked at you.            “For me.”

           That was it.  Right there.  Eddie was caught.  How could he say no to you?  Your relationship had been nothing but perfect, and there was a happy balance of entertaining each others interests.  You’d attend Hellfire meetings with him and watch Corroded Coffin practice, he’d come to your piano recitals and help you finish your notes for book club.  You’d share musical interests with each other and watch every movie under the sun, and you’d both agree Sixteen Candles would never been an option.  His Uncle Wayne had taken an immense liking to you as soon as you and Eddie became friends, he’d even tag along to your piano recitals sometimes when work didn’t have him in a chokehold.  

           “I know you two have never really liked each other, but you’re my boyfriend, he’s my brother.  At the end of the day I don’t want to have to pick between the two of you, and Steve has agreed to set aside all of it for the party.  I just want you to be in the same boat.”

           “Is it just one night?” Eddie questioned, his eyes searching yours.

           “If I can get one night of civil between you two, I can die happy,” you smiled softly.  “And besides, it’ll be fun.  Everyone will be there, the kids, Nancy, Robin, Jonathon, and I’m making your favorite.”

           “Stop,” he gasped, the twinkle coming back and he grinned. “Please tell me it’s your red velvet cake.”

           “With the homemade icing,” you nodded, watching him throw the theatrics back on and he fanned himself.  “Mrs. Wheeler has been asking for the recipe since I made it at Holly’s birthday last year, figured the party would be a good time to make it.”

           “It’s always a good time for anything you cook,” Eddie praised, making you shift in your seat.  “Now I’m really looking forward to this party.”

           “Well,” you sighed, adjusting yourself in your seat and turning your full body towards him.  “I know something that might help the wait.”

           He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes didn’t lose the glimmer, just a different glimmer now displayed and he double checked the gear and threw it in park, having turned into the high school parking lot. “Oh?  Did you make something else for me?”

           “I brought only the best for you,” you smiled, leaning up and across the console separating you.  

           Eddie bit his lower lip and his hand grabbed lightly at your face.  “Show me, princess.”

           Immediately obliging, you pressed your lips to his and he quickly pulled you over the console, resting in his lap.  He seemed to take all of this better than Steve. Maybe the party would work out in your favor, hell, maybe they could even be friends by the end of it? Maybe?  Right?

                                           ●          ●          ●          ●

             “I think it’s nice you’re setting aside your differences for your sister,” Nancy said, pouring a bag of chips into a large serving bowl.  Robin and Steve were helping her with last minute food prep as they awaited everyone to arrive.  Pizza was already there, sodas were in the cooler, Robin even brought movies from Family Video and Steve dug out the old board games your parents had stored away.

           “It’s just for tonight,” Steve retorted, grabbing a Coke and quickly opening it.  He could feel his usual nerves heightened with the agreement between you and him. He’d never admit it, but having his little sister genuinely involved with someone was a huge thing for him (but also it being Eddie didn’t exactly please him either).  “I told her I’d try for tonight.”

           “Why don’t you, I dunno, try everyday?” Robin said, raising an eyebrow.  “You’re missing out on future brother in law bonding time.”

           Steve winced, groaning out and waved his hands. “No, no, no, don’t say that.  You don’t know that.”

           “Ah, but you don’t know either,” the short haired fiend quipped and shrugged.  “Also it wouldn’t kill you to maybe get to know Eddie and form your own opinion. He’s sat with us at lunch a few times, he’s not so bad.”

           Steve looked to Nancy, his face stressed.  “Can you believe this?”

           Nancy pursed her lips, finishing up last touches. “I don’t think it’s honestly a big deal.”

           “What?  You agree?” Steve said.  “You’ve seen Munson and-“

           “And,” Nancy interrupted.  “-nothing.  I don’t have an opinion on Eddie because I don’t know him that well.”

           Robin gestured in support, throwing her arms out in front of her.  “See?”

           “Well he doesn’t make the effort either,” Steve defended.  “So why should I?”

           “One of you has to, or you both have the chance of losing y/n,” Nancy responded, raising her eyebrow at him.  “It takes effort from both of you.”

           “But-“

           The sound of shouting and laughing came from the front room and Nancy looked at him once more.  “Behave.”

           Steve sighed as the kids piled in the kitchen, scurrying over each other and grabbing what their hands could before Nancy shooed them.  “We have more people coming, guys, come on!”

           Jonathon followed in, shouting after Will and Dustin as they brushed past him into the living room.  He smiled kindly to Steve and soon took to the tension that radiated from the older boy.  “You alright?”

           Steve nodded, taking a quick drink of his Coke. “Yeah, just being scolded by women. Again.”

           Jonathon laughed briefly before Steve spoke up once more.  “Is my sister here yet?”

           “Uh, I think her and Eddie weren’t too far down the road,” he replied.  “I passed them on the way here.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Great, wonderful, terrific.”

           Steve continued on a tangent of positive words and Jonathon glanced between the two girls, pointing to Steve with an eyebrow raised.  Nancy rolled her eyes and shook her head.  Robin shrugged, sipping exceptionally loud on her drink.  Jonathon made a face at both of them and could only anticipate what to expect going into tonights events.

           The same thought had been crossing Eddie’s mind all day. He knew that despite how he felt, he needed to try his best for you.  That meant setting aside how he felt about your brother, how Steve made him feel all those years in school, every single time Steve laid the ‘freak’ bit on thick – Eddie was preparing himself to leave it all at the door as soon as you arrived to the party.  He could only hope Steve was on the same page and tonight would move rather seamlessly.  If all went according to plan, maybe they could continue hating each other again bright and early tomorrow morning.

           “Whoa!” you yelped, almost bumping into Eddie who had stopped in front of you.  The cake in your hands was fragile cargo and you swerved, saving it from meeting it’s demise with the pavement.  “Jeez, Eds, if you want any of this cake I would appreciate if you kept both feet moving or a heads up would be greatly appreciated.”

           He turned abruptly and made a face, scratching the back of his head.  “Um, yeah, sorry, sweetheart.  Just lost in thought."

           You couldn’t help but smile softly at him.  His nerves were on full display and you knew Steve was most likely in the same boat.  You’d do whatever you could to ease both of the boys tensions, to prevent anything from escalating, and you hoped they both knew you were on their sides and not against them.  It would be beneficial not just for you but the group, too, if there was common ground and structure and not the constant state of tension so thick, of awkward conversations, of debating if it should be both Steve and Eddie invited or one or the other.  Not only was it hard for you, but your friends who were also in the same predicament you were with two of the group members holding it out for one another.

           “It’s gonna be fine, Eds,” you said as you stepped up the small step to the door.  “Deep breaths, like I taught you.”

           He snorted, pushing the door open for you.  “Aye, aye, captain.”

           The eye roll that followed had Eddie pinching at your hips, causing you to yelp and laugh, trying to escape the attack.  “Eddie, stop!  I have a cake in-“

           Your back met with a firm surface and you gasped, hands gripping the dish even tighter.  You wobbled slightly, your feet finding an uneven surface and hands gripped your arms to keep you from tripping even further.  The eyes of Steve looked back at yours when you glanced back and you sighed, standing straighter after regaining your footing.  “I almost dropped the cake, Steve.”

           “Maybe Eddie shouldn’t goof off as much, then,” he stated plainly, removing his hands and making eye contact with Eddie who had set his lips in a fine, tight line at the statement.

           “Come on, Steve,” Nancy quipped, stepping in the room. “He was just being a little silly, that’s all.  Y/n, Eddie, there’s food and drinks in the kitchen!  Come on, I’ll help you get that cake in a safer spot.”

           You smiled to Nancy, looking back at Eddie and raised an eyebrow.  He shook his head and held up his pack of cigarettes, slipping past the three of you and towards the back doors.  A frown soon replaced the former smile and you slipped pass Steve into the kitchen. Nancy gave him a stern look and hustled behind you.  This would be a long night.

                                         ●          ●          ●          ●

             Eddie had rejoined the festivities shortly after his two cigarettes, his nerves only escalating at Steve and his comment.  Right off the bat, he had thought, he just had to jump into an accusatory stance.  He bit his tongue in your defense, but how long could he keep that up?  Jonathon and him had gotten into conversation you had overheard, and watched quietly from a distance.  Nancy and Robin chitchatted next to you, and the kids were already causing Steve’s inner mother to kick in.  Lucas and Mike were tossing a ball back and forth in the living room, Dustin and Will had turned on their favorite radio station and were singing much off tune to Madonna (much to everyone’s surprised enjoyment, even Eddie who only ever consumed that of every heavy 80’s metal or hairband), and Max and El were currently in a contest of who could crush a soda can the fastest: Max against her forehead, or El with her actually head?  Steve was in the current stages of trying to prevent possible brain damage, to both.  Erica was continuously bugging you for a slice of cake, to which you turned her down everytime.

           “Nerd,” she’d grumble.

           “Don’t you agree?” Robin asked, bumping her hip into yours and you quickly looked to her, eyebrows raised.  You waited and she glanced to Nancy, then back.  “Have you really not been listening?  Babes, this is the impending doom of the possibility of not getting new band uniforms.”

           “Oh, no,” you breathed, the end of ‘no’ hitching slightly in question and you couldn’t help the giggle that followed when Robin groaned.  Nancy joined in the laughter and Robin threw her hands up in exasperation.  

           “Fine!  I’ll go complain to Steve!”

           “That might be good, actually,” you suggested, watching Steve stumble by with Dustin on his back and attempting to smack his hands away. “Looks like he could use the help.”

           “Dustin!  Dustin, Steve is not a piñata!” Robin hollered, following after them as you and Nancy watched in amusement.

           “So,” Nancy started in, refilling your cups and returning her gaze to the events taking place in the room next to you.  “They haven’t fought.”

           “Ssh!” you snapped quickly, looking to her.  “Nance, you’ll jinx it!  This is the most I’ve seen them not go at each other, even if they are just keeping to themselves.  It’s a start and I’d like to keep it that way.”

           “How long do you think it’ll keep up, though?” she asked honestly.  When you frowned at her question she set a hand on your arm.  “I want you happy, you’re my friend.  Knowing those two bone heads, though, I just worry they’ll drop the façade when you aren’t looking.”

           Your frown creased even further into your face.  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nance.  It’s my brother and my boyfriend.  I love them both, but I don’t wanna lose either of them.”

           “I know,” Nancy sighed, before perking up.  “What if-“

           “Watch it!” Steve shouted, and all eyes directed into the living room.  

           Eddie dusted Dustin’s shoulders off, before looking to Steve.  “You almost crashed the kid into the bookshelf, man, you should be the one watchin’ it.”

           Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “Like earlier when you nearly pummeled my sister into the ground?”

           “Goddammit, Nancy,” you mumbled before stepping up a ways. “Steve, it was-“

           His eyes cast to you and he scoffed.  “An accident?  Like anytime y’all horse around?”

           “Hey,” Eddie snapped, stepping up to your side. “I’ve never laid a hand on her like that.”

           “Like what?” Steve retorted.

           “You know exactly what you mean,” Eddie said.

           Jonathon stepped up now, followed by Dustin.  “Come on, guys, everyone just caught up in the moment.  Everyone’s good.”

           Steve shook his head.  “I’ll be good when he’s gone.”

           “Steve!” Nancy said, shaking her head.

           “Like hell!” Eddie laughed.  “I was invited!”

           You sat a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, looking to him. “Eddie, calm down.”

           “Fine!  Then I’ll go!” Steve said, and he looked to you.  “Come on, Y/N, we’re leaving.”

           Everyone stared, Robin trying to talk quietly to Steve who was having none of it.  Nancy looked to Jonathon with a worried expression and the kids clamored to the other side of the room, just watching.  You stared at your brother in disbelief and shook your head.  “Steve, we just all need a break, please!  Let’s just all breathe a second!”

           “We can breathe at home.”

           Steve stepped up and grabbed your arm, causing Eddie to grab the other.  You squeaked at the force of the two boys, looking to Nancy with wide eyes.  They had never escalated to protectiveness with you involving each other in the same moment, it had never gotten this heated before and the worry crept in the pit of your stomach, causing bile to slowly rise in the back of your throat.  You swallowed it down, the panic on your face evident and Nancy immediately jumped in.

           “Boys!” Nancy yelled, grabbing onto Steve and Jonathon grabbing Eddie.

           “Come on, guys, this is stupid,” Jonathon added and patted Eddie on his back.

           “She doesn’t wanna go,” Eddie snarled, staring Steve right in the face.

           “I’m her brother, older might I add, so what I say goes,” Steve responded, Nancy tugging on his belt loop.

           “Guys, please stop!” you cried, wiggling in their grips.  “You said you’d try!  Just break it up!”

           Dustin and Max came up, prying the older boys grips and Robin stepped up to pull you aside, her arm slipping around your shoulders. Eddie shook his head, chuckling to himself and turned away from Steve which caused Jonathon to loosen his grip. Nancy kept a petite finger interloped in Steve’s belt loop for safe keeping.  

           “Steve, why don’t we go outside for a minute?”  Nancy mumbled, tugging lightly.

           Steve broke his gaze on Eddie, wiping a hand down his face. He nodded slowly and turned towards her. “Yeah… yeah anything to get away from that freak.”

           The words slipped out without a second thought. Steve froze, as did everyone else, and eyes landed on Eddie.  The panic that set in was worse than the first time and you pulled away from Robin, going to Eddie immediately.  As soon as the words were out, Eddie’s shoulders tightened and his back went straight. Jonathon could see his face and he watched every emotion cross over it – shock, realization, anger, guilt, sadness, absolute rage.  Eddie couldn’t register who was near him and his hearing went into a high frequency pitch.  His eyes darkened and the only thing you felt was the shove, a rush of air, and your back hitting the counter of the island.  “Eddie, no!”

           Eddie swung first.  His fist connected quickly with Steve’s jaw and the elder boy stared stone cold at him as Steve stumbled to the ground.  

           “Shit,” Dustin muttered and everyone was quick in action.

           Steve jumped up from the ground, Will and Mike trying to hold him back while Jonathon and Dustin grabbed for Eddie.  Lucas moved Max and Erica out of the way and Robin and Nancy stepped up to your side.

           “Let me go!” Steve yelled.  “Let me go!”

           “Knock it off!” Mike snapped, stumbling at the tug Steve attempted away from the younger boys.

           “Come on!” Eddie cackled.  “Let pretty boy get a nice swing in!”

           “Don’t push it!” Jonathon snapped.

           “I’m slipping!” Dustin yelled, his palms clammy and his upper arm strength nonexistent in the pull Eddie had.

           “Eddie, Steve, stop!” you shouted.  “Stop right now!”

           “I’ll never understand what my sister sees in you!” Steve shouted, glaring.  “She could do so much better!”

           Eddie scoffed and licked his lips.  “Like I haven’t heard that before!  At least I can land a gal, you strike out on every chance you get!  So much for being the Hawkins King!”

           “Shut up!” you again yelled.  

           “Maybe you should listen to your girlfriend!  She’s clearly got the brains in this relationship!” Steve smirked.  “Third times a charm right?”

           “It’s no wonder she hates being at home!” Eddie started, and you froze.  “I wouldn’t want to be around someone as idiotic, full of themselves, and a kiss ass like you!”

           “Bullshit she doesn’t want to be at home!  It’s better than that trailer trash park you’re in! I’m surprised she hasn’t brought home bed bugs or lice!”

           “Ask her then!  You don’t even try to get to know her anyway, so what does it matter!”

           “I know my sister!”

           “Like hell!”

           Tears began to well in your eyes and you tried your best to swallow them down.  The adrenaline was suffocating, everyone getting their own taste of it.  Dustin’s grip slowly lost and Eddie pulled free the rest of the way, Steve finding his way out from Will and Mike.  Everyone started yelling all at once when the two got ahold of each other, causing mass chaos to ensue.  Fists flying, Eddie landed another blow to Steve’s eye – it would definitely be swollen in the next hour and shut completely by the end of the night.  Steve tumbled around with Eddie, landing two good blows into his ribs causing the metalhead to yell out – they weren’t broken but there would definitely be major bruising and tender for a while.  You attempted your own chance at pulling them apart, but the force of the two sent you stumbling and Nancy shouted, anger setting in for her at the two acting this way in her home.  “Knuckleheads, break it up or I’ll call Hopper!”

           The two continued their dance, nearly tumbling into the three of you and Steve slammed Eddie against the counter top.  Eddie flailed beneath him and Steve sent a blow to his jaw, causing Eddie to yelp in pain.  He glared up at Steve and reached around him for anything that would help him gain some traction.

           His hand landed in something mushy, his fingers feeling a heavy, thick, consistency on them but he went with it.  Eddie grabbed a fist full and landed a blow into Steve’s face, causing him to gasp and lose his hold.  Steve wiped his face, red crumbs and white icing coating his hand. He stared at it before looking up and it was on before you could stop them.  Steve grabbed his own fist full and the two went back to it, cake and icing flying in every which direction.  Food and drinks came with it and everyone yelled as soon, the entire party was coated in carbonation, crumbs of chips, and icing being flung every which direction.  Nancy tried to block herself, screaming out in anger.  Oh, how much trouble she was going to be in for this later.

           You felt the tears brimming, pushing, and soon tumbling over your waterline.  They were heavy, hot, and quickly cascading down your face.  Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath and everything moved in slow motion in front of you.  The cake was destroyed, demolished, gone, as were any chances of your two favorite people reconciling and putting any differences behind them.  There went any chances of family dinners, trips, any chances of enjoying a Corroded Coffin show, any chances of a future that was healthy with either one.  You watched as they continued their antics, neither one of them sparing any glance to check on you, to see your reaction, for any sign or confirmation that you were okay.  In this moment, it was about Steve and Eddie.  It was always about Steve and Eddie.  Reflecting and looking back, even when it was you and only one of them, it turned around to discuss the other.

           Steve always wanted to know what Eddie was doing, who he was hanging out with, where you were going with him, if Eddie was trying to sell you weed, if you two were drinking.  Anything he could get dirt on for your parents.  Eddie always wanted to know what Steve was doing, if he was working, when he was working, and when he’d be home so he could plan exactly to come get you at the worst time just to annoy him.  It was little things, it was spiteful, and the two couldn’t leave high school behind.  Where did you even fit in to the equation?  At that point it’d be better for them to just date each other.

           Making your way to the now empty cake platter, a splash of Coke greeting you in the face on your trek, you grabbed the glass dish firmly in your hands.  The porcelain was completely clean, smooth, no crumbs of what had been.  This is what your life would be now; clean, smooth, no crumbs of what had been.  The surface, slipping back and forth in your hands, would not survive this fight either. Arms raising above your head, you could hear your pulse in your ears, not even the shout from Robin when she saw what you were doing, it was so loud.  Even when you screamed out in frustration, you couldn’t hear how actually loud you were, how it was almost deafening as the realization set over the situation in front of you.  Most everyone covered their ears with their hands, wide eyed and cowering back from what was to come.  With your screaming, you quickly brought the plate crashing down to the kitchen tile and shards of glass went flying.  The small pieces grazed your bare calves, probably not the best time to be wearing shorts.  Steve and Eddie were the two closest to the line of fire, both of them turning away and blocking their faces.  When the glass had calmed, that’s when your screaming did, and the deafening silence that followed felt louder.

           Everyone looked around, food and drink covering every surface in the kitchen and half of the living room.  The glass had spread from the bottom of your feet into the line of the living room, down the tile of the kitchen, and even some had managed to bounce to the countertop.  All eyes slowly landed on you, Eddie and Steve both finally taking in the mass destruction of what they had caused.  Tears continued to stream down your face, mixed with the icing slabbed on your cheek and the stain of Coke all along the collar and upper shoulders of your shirt. Eddie looked to your legs and saw the thin lines of blood from the shards, before meeting your face again.  Steve watched as your shoulders shook from the sobs held in, your face as red as the cake you had made.  

           Oh shit, the cake.

           “Oh, baby,” Eddie started.

           “Kiddo, I-“ Steve added at the same time.

           “No!” you sobbed.  The room grew quiet again.  All eyes were on you.  This was your time.

           “I-“ you started, taking a deep breath to try and align yourself.  “I didn’t want to lose- to lose either of you.  I wanted th-this to work.  Just once!”

           Guilt began creeping over the boys, disappointment settled in Steve’s bones as he knew he let you down, Eddie feeling his own tears start to grow at the state you were in.  They didn’t want this.

           “But now,” you chuckled, causing both boys to go rigid in fear.  “Now I realize you’re losing me.”

           You looked to each of them, a sob tight in your chest and you choked it back.  With shaking hands, you wiped the remaining food from your face, and brushed past the two of them and everyone else.  The sobs finally racked your chest as you quickly made your way out the door, slamming it shut behind you.  

           Steve and Eddie looked around before looking at each other.  They both were fucked up.  And they had fucked up.  Big time.

[anqelically-archived]

goodbye, my darling | osamu dazai x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: beast!au spoilers, angst, you take oda’s place (but aren’t exactly like him)

navigation | bsd masterlist

you were never too keen on the idea of meeting someone whose face you’d never seen. as a cautious woman, who also worked as a detective for a living, you’d normally deny a meeting with someone unfamiliar. however, to deny a gathering in your current situation could cost the life of a boy you took in as a subordinate.

the lives of those younger than you were of the utmost importance.

ryunosuke akutagawa was your subordinate, who, blindly, stormed into the headquarters of the most dangerous organization in yokohama. in order to save his little sister, akutagawa broke into the port mafia’s building by himself to get her back.

since he was a member of the agency, it was part of your mission to rescue him. as you walked towards a lone bar in ginza, you never forgot that. a cigarette burned away in your dominant hand as you walked towards bar lupin.

your aim was to aid akutagawa in what would happen after his escape from the port mafia. the reason you were meeting with the person in charge of monetary security for the mafia was to gain information. with a threat dangerous to the port mafia, a bargain can be made. the akutagawas can be safe from the port mafia, and the port mafia can be safe from the government.

the cigarette in your hand was put out when you rubbed it against the brick wall. you threw the unfinished product into the trashcan nearby before you took quiet steps down the stairs toward the bar. you were sure it was the location based on the sign outside.

the moment you opened the door, the mellow, low tune of jazz reached your ears. your (e/c) eyes scanned the almost empty bar in front of you. at the actual bar itself sat one lone man. from his stature, he was definitely not the old man you were expecting.

his hair, dark as coffee beans, covered his face before he turned around. a smile adorned the unfamiliar man’s face as he looked at you with a shine in his rich, brown eye. the other one seemed to be wrapped in bandages, just like the ends of his arms. he was handsome if you had to say. but for someone dressed like a port mafia hitman, he greeted you like you knew each other well.

“(n/n), it’s been a while,” he spoke, voice soft. “were you smoking again? i can smell the stench from a mile away, you know.”

“i suppose it’s not unusual for you to smell it,” you responded. “but you say it’s been a while... have we met before?”

the man closed his eye, an almost silent sigh escaping his mouth. once you could see his uncovered eye again, the shine that was once there seemed to dull. it was still there, but harder for you to see in the dimly lit bar. he pushed down the sphere of ice in his drink.

“no, we haven’t met yet. this is the first time. the first time i’ve entered this bar, first time i drank here, first time we’ve met here, in this crazy world. a whole lotta firsts, wouldn’t you say, (n/n)?”

“yeah, it’s a lot.”

you found yourself sitting one stool away from the man. a bittersweet silence was draped between the two of you and for some reason, you felt the urge to change it as soon as possible. you wanted to fall into a light conversation you’d normally have with someone close to you. it was odd, really. you were here for a purpose, yet you sat by idly.

“hey, i’ve got a question.” if the man wasn’t going to speak first, you would. you asked, “if we’re going to sit here, what should i call you? i doubt you’d want me to call you mister bandages.”

“well, calling me yours would be just fine,” he playfully smirked at you. “darling wouldn’t be bad either.”

“so it’s going to be like that?”

“of course it is. i have a nickname for you, and you have one for me. it’s only fair, isn’t it? but, i have a question for you. if we’re going to be here, what would you like to drink? pick your poison, belladonna.”

you let your chin rest on your hand, “well, i usually only drink with my coworkers and when i’m tired. i always have a lime margarita, if you can make that for me, darling.”

he smiled as he went behind the bar, “hm, i suppose i can make it. but since you’re here with me for the first time, how about we drink something else for the first time too? i can make a mean french martini, surprisingly. i’ve watched it get made plenty of times.”

“if you insist, go ahead. if it tastes bad, don’t be surprised when i give you 0 stars.”

“ouch, how low.”

dazai, to your surprise, began to create the drink as if he knew the bar like the back of his hand. he grabbed the right drinks from their respective places without even looking at the labels to create the cocktail. it was as if the bar was his.

while he was at it, you asked him something that had been bothering you from the moment he first talked. “you called me (n/n) when i entered the bar, so it’s safe to say that it refers to me. why call me that?”

“why?” he hummed. “i should ask you that. do you not like it?”

“it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. it’s just… no one has ever called me that before. everyone just calls me (y/n), but not you, clearly.”

he lowered his gaze and the corners of his lips turned up. that smile of his, you could read it clear as day. you were able to tell that this man wasn’t smiling from what you've said, not even genuinely smiling. he smiled for the sake of himself. you didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling, but you were sure it had to do with yourself. there was no way it didn’t.

“and no one’s ever called me their darling until you have, (n/n). it’s another first for the both of us, and we did it together. but hey, i have some stories i’ve been living to tell you. can i?”

after giving him the go-ahead, he excitedly talked about dealing with a bomb and giving his underlings firm tofu. the way he told his stories was like a little child coming home from the first day of school and telling their parents about their new friends.

once he was done, he slid the drink right in front of you and took a seat. however, it was not the seat he was originally at when you walked into the bar. getting closer than he was, he sat on the stool to your left. he held up his drink and, as if it were engraved into your body, you clinked your glass against his without a thought.

“well go ahead, taste it! let’s see if it really is worth 0 stars,” he urged you.

the way he stared into your eyes with anticipation, it was another strange thing you’ve noticed. he was genuinely happy. he was probably the strangest person you’ve ever met, and you’ve met some odd people. hell, you worked with them.

after having a thought, you picked up the glass. you pressed it against your lips and took a sip, aware of the eye on you. once you swallowed and set the drink down, you could see a satisfied smile in your peripheral vision.

“good, huh?” the brunette asked.

“it really is,” you confirmed. “it's not worth 0 stars.”

“see? what did i tell you, belladonna? a french martini suits you, though. you can always ask me to make you some if you want.”

“maybe. i’d ask if you can cook as well, but your firm tofu says otherwise.”

he chuckled, “yeah, i’m not much of a cook. i always had someone else cook for me. it was edible too. she was much better than i was at cooking. at a lot of things, actually.”

“she seems like a woman of talent.”

“that’s right, she was. i’ve missed her… i’ve missed her a lot these past years.”

“a mother?”

“nope, my mom had been long gone from my life. this woman… she was much more than that.”

you couldn’t find anything else to say, so you remained quiet. that was, until the bandage-wearing man brought up why you two even decided to meet in the first place. he asked for more details.

“a subordinate of mine is in danger, and i want to cut a deal. it’d be a miracle if he came out in one piece, let alone with the person he’s been searching for. if he makes it out, i have no doubt that the port mafia will hunt him down. i want to cut a deal that’ll benefit us both.”

after contemplating, he murmured, “akutagawa’s lucky to have come across a good teacher like you.”

“excuse me?”

“you don’t need to worry about akutagawa. after today, the mafia will never lay another finger on him. there’s no catch; he’ll be able to live the rest of his life in peace... besides, this is what i’ve had planned since the beginning... if he makes it out of the mafia headquarters alive, that is.”

what he told you had confirmed your suspicions. taking another sip of the martini, you looked him straight in the eye. you’ve let yourself come off as laid back, but now your expression was stern. he was caught off-guard.

“tell me, why did you lure him? why did you lure akutagawa into your headquarters, osamu dazai?”

it went silent, so much so that the music didn’t reach either of your ears.

“guess you’ve figured it out. i can’t fool you, can i?” he quipped. “you’ve always been quite intelligent.”

“you’re the one who gave out the hints. when talking about the tofu, you talked about underlings. you spoke like you had a lot of them. then, you talked about akutagawa without me even saying his name. not to mention how you’ve had plans from the beginning. only the port mafia’s boss would know, and be able to plan much. you’re the reason akutagawa is searching for his sister in the first place. this is over.”

“no, wait-!”

dazai reached out his arm, but he halted at the familiar click of a gun. his eye widened and he could only look at you with a horrified expression. he didn’t even have to look down to know your trusty pistol was in your hand.

“please put the gun away,” dazai begged, his face contorting to an expression of sorrow.

“i’m sorry, but i’m afraid i can’t do that. if i do, who knows what’ll happen to me? but then again, i’m already screwed if this is a trap. the port mafia’s boss is cunning, so i’m done acting like we’re close.”

“i didn’t want to become the boss! i… and i didn’t think of it as an act, not at all. it’s the truth, i swear.”

he looked at you so sincerely that you almost dropped the gun from your side. raw emotion was behind his words, or so you thought. maybe he could still be lying to you? maybe lying to himself. after all, there are liars so good that they’ve deceived themselves.

you looked down at your lap, “i guess that i’ve got to come up with another plan for saving akutagawa. well, if i can leave this establishment alive, that is.”

dazai insisted, “this isn’t a trap. i would never even dream of doing something like that to you, (n/n).”

“my name is (l/n) (y/n), not (n/n).”

your words were another shot to his chest.

“right, (y/n). you asked me why i lured akutagawa to the mafia headquarters, right? well, i did it to protect this world.”

you raised a brow, “this world?”

“this is but one of countless worlds. and in another world, the original world, you and i were… we were—“

“i love you,” he recalls the light touch of your fingers burning up his skin, “and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“—we were friends. you and i were friends in the original world. we drank at this bar and spent time together talking about the most insignificant things. it lasted for a while.”

dazai can also remember your last moments. you were laying in your own pool of blood when he finally caught up to you. when you spoke to him, you spoke in that same calm voice you’ve always had. and then, the smoke of the cigarette in your hand had dissipated into nothing, just like the light in your eyes.

“even if that were true, that doesn’t change what you did to akutagawa and his sister. you separated them, and now here we are,” you reminded dazai. “we may have been close in the original world, as you call it, but we are enemies now.”

“i love you—“

dazai’s eyes searched for something in the air that wasn’t there. his eye darted around, and his lips would slightly part and shut after a few seconds. his face twisted as he continued to remember everything.

“—and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“it was hard... it was really hard fighting mimic without you in the organization. i had no choice but to take over for mori and make enemies of everyone around me to expand the business,” dazai finally looked back at you. slowly, his hands reached for your cheeks. “everything i did was for this world’s- for you. i needed a world where you can sit here, happy with the people around you again.”

for a reason you couldn’t decipher, the hand that held your gun began to tremble. well, maybe it had been trembling for a long time and you were only now just recognizing it. dazai’s hands, cold and soft at the touch, held your face as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.

it was a touch of a lover.

coming down to that conclusion, everything made sense to you. dazai always looked at you like you were closest thing to him, a lifeline if you may. his nicknames, the flirting, talking about this unnamed important woman in his life. it was all because...

“we were in a relationship, weren’t we?”

dazai would’ve missed your words if the proximity between the two of you wasn’t this close. the way he froze in his spot had answered enough, and you could only sigh. slowly, you put your gun back into your jacket and rested your hands on dazai’s.

you gently pried his hands off of your face and held them between your own. you felt no specific feelings from the action, but you were sure dazai did based off of how his face softened.

“i’m sorry, but you have to leave your feelings out of this. i don’t know how you know what happened in the original world, and i won’t ask. i just have to tell you that i don’t feel what you do. like i said, you and i are enemies here. as long as you control the port mafia and i’m part of the armed detective agency, it’ll remain this way.”

“there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”

“i see,” dazai took his hands back and rested them on his lap. “well, the reason i invited you here in the first place was to say goodbye.”

“you really don’t plan on ever seeing me again?”

“you said it, didn’t you? we’re enemies as long as we’re associated with the organizations we’re in. so after today, i won’t see you again. it’ll only hurt more if i do.”

“then this makes this a goodbye,” you watched as he stood up from his stool, hands in the pockets of his black overcoat.

“yes, it does. a life with someone you can say goodbye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. am i wrong?”

“i guess you wouldn’t be... i haven’t said goodbye to anyone and have it pain me,” you replied, feeling bad for the port mafia’s boss.

“i hope you don’t for a long time. but one day, that time will come. you won’t be prepared for it, but all i can tell you is to let it in. feel everything, and see where it takes you.” dazai faintly smiled before he turned his back to you and began to walk away, “goodbye, (n/n).”

“goodbye, my darling.”

painfully, dazai grit his teeth and resisted the urge to look back. in goodbyes, that’s what they always do. they turn around and crash into the person they’re supposed to be leaving. he didn’t want to do that. this was his goodbye to you, even if it didn’t mean much. if he was going to keep this world functioning, he won’t leave it with you in any pain.

‘be happy, okay? even if it’s without me, be happy. as long as you’re alive, somewhere, i’ll be happy too’

it was a final thought he kept to himself.

note: this pained me sm to write, but i had to for the sake of my imagination </3

please reblog for more!

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Breakin’ Up With a Broken Heart

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: (Future) Mountain Ranger! Ari Levinson x Reader, mentions of past ex x reader

Summary: A year after a breakup that left you shattered, you’re ready to start life anew in your secluded Colorado mountain cabin. Just when you swear off love is when a new beast crosses your path.

Word Count: 1,896

Content/Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, in-depth description of a breakup and feelings regarding that, safe driving in juxtaposition to a reckless person, deep introspection, enjoyment of mountain cabin vibes, lmk if I missed any

Author’s Note: This serves as a lot of exposition for what I hope will be a very lovey story; everyone knows you’ll probably face some heartbreak first. Also, yes, this is heavily based on my first heartbreak. What about it? Anyway, please enjoy the start of this long-anticipated fic. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know. And in case you didn’t hear it yet today, I love you.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

I STRONGLY suggest listening to this song, not just because it’ll help get across the vibes I’d like, but also because it’s a really good song.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

Your break-up

It’s been months since you walked out on him and left town in a cloud of dust. It didn’t end well, but you’d be lying if you said you thought he was right for you.

One year ago

It ended in a text. Nine months gone in a text.

I’m done.

To which you responded: You mean our relationship? Ok.

It was honestly a relief. You had been looking for a way out, but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe a part of you wondered if someone would ever want you that much again, even though he only ever showed it in words and not action. Your head was okay with the situation, but it seemed your heart didn’t get the memo. Even though it ended by what you considered a mutual agreement (if that’s what you call him dumping you over you not visiting on a weekend you were spending with your family since he didn’t prioritize anyone’s time but his own), it still hurt. Three days later, he posted a pic with a new girl and a new car the same price as the ring you two had looked at.

He was a textbook narcissist with mommy issues, how’d they always find you? It was the kind of relationship where three months in, you should’ve ended it, but stuck around for another six. It was full of late-night calls, but not even the good ones. These were the ones that happened because he never seemed to have time for you during the day. The attention seemed good at first, but the calls would leave you tired the next morning, unable to get up as early as you wanted to so you could be productive. And you couldn’t talk to your mom and sister about it. They hated him. They saw through his selfish behavior before you and you wish you would’ve listened before giving him everything you could, which still wasn’t enough.

He said he wanted to get married hardly a month in because he loved everything about you. At first, you thought it was a joke, but the more he said it, the more you somehow convinced yourself that was what you wanted, too, but it could not have been more far from the truth. You wanted a happy life with a partner, but not like that and not that fast. Well, was it too fast? Or did it just feel that way because it was with the wrong person? Plus, it was less of a partnership, and more of a continuous compromise put on your part. Either way, as time went on, you realized that every small conversation was leading to a fight and your work and other relationships were suffering from the time he expected of you, but never returned. All he did was expect you to give, not holding himself to that same standard, but for some reason, you kept holding on. You had even looked at rings, not committing, though, because he knew you’d want him to speak to your mother first and she would never go for it. So, the relationship continued to drag on until he got upset since you said no to him one too many times.

But that was so long ago now. You did your time crying, listening to all the sad songs, wondering where you could have possibly gone wrong until you had enough. The only thing you really did wrong was not trust your instincts. You went too far following his heart and not far enough with your own mind. Love can be cerebral, right? It should be. There was no reason to feel sorry for yourself, you were better off and doing all the things you wanted that he’d held you back from before. He had very evidently moved on, and so could you. Sick of feeling down in a town that only reminded you of heartbreak, you found what you needed right now: a new job and an open Zillow posting you’d been watching for forever: your ticket out.

You were taking a vacation to your brand new start, tears long gone and dried with the wind that blew through your hair as you drove through the wooded mountainside. The sun was warm on your face, all loneliness was left in the darkness you left behind. Boxes and bags graciously organized by your mom filled the back of your SUV, and her’s sat just as full, driving behind you up the mountain passes. Before you’d gotten up here, the two of you had stopped at the last gas station, filling up your cars, getting a couple snacks, and stretching your legs before the final couple miles upward. Standing outside your cars gassing up, she looked over to you.

“Hey, just a reminder to be careful in the mountains. You don’t know what’s up there. Mountain lions, bears, snakes.”

“Oh my” you said giggling at your own Wizard of Oz reference.

She smiled and rolled her eyes at you “haha, very funny, but I’m serious. Not just about living there, but driving, too. You never know when a deer could jump out.”

You’d heard this a thousand times, being from wooded, albeit less dense, areas before. Plus, your mom was always concerned about you. Perks of growing up with a dad who was never really present. All of her focus could go to you. Never seeing a proper model relationship was probably half of the reason you had gotten into this mess, too, but you’d never blame that. She’d given you all she could and done a darn good job raising a driven, successful daughter (in every aspect except romance). You were eternally grateful for her support of moving where you had always wanted. It was honestly the perfect opportunity. Once the pumps clicked and the gas was finished, you both prepared to hop back into your cars.

“And remember, don’t talk to strangers.”

“Mom, we’re driving. I doubt we’ll run into anyone else up there.”

She shrugged and you responded with a small smirk, shaking your head as you put the keys in the ignition.

Back to driving higher and higher in elevation, you were drumming your fingers on the dashboard to the songs on the radio that you had blasting. Benefit of driving alone: no interrupted music. As you kept going, the road was becoming narrower and windier, pairing with the dimming afternoon sun. As you were rounding a big bend, you saw something step out into the road and you immediately swerved around it to avoid crashing, pulling over onto the side right after. What was that? A bear? A deer? No, not a deer, too tall. Your mom pulled over right behind you and rolled down her window as you got out of the car and walked back to hers to fill her in.

“What happened?”

“Something stepped out into the road. I’m not sure what it was.” A tall man with cascading brown hair and a full, fitting beard stepped into your vision through your mom’s passenger window. “Or should I say someone. I’m gonna go talk to him, make sure he’s okay.”

“Alright, kiddo. Be careful, though. I’ll be right here.”

You stood up from leaning against your mom’s driver side door and made your way around the front of the car, your eyes drifting upwards from the ground to a narrow waist and broad shoulders, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, eventually meeting with the most gorgeous pair of ocean blues. All these features belonged to the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he ran out into the middle of the road and could’ve killed either of you.

Caught off guard by the whole situation, your brain defaulted to panic and defensive mode.

“Oh my gosh! I thought you were a bear! I almost hit you!”

The man looked at you with wide eyes and simply blinked, unable to form a response until he stuttered out

“I-it’s really my fault. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

Even when evidently distracted and out of it, he was still insanely attractive, making you grow more anxious by the second under his intense stare and scrutinization as he continued to stand there, taking you in and then catching himself and looking anywhere else. You were self-conscious of your hair that was tucked under a beanie to combat the cold mountain air and likely disheveled from your long day. He was obviously in a state where arguing wouldn’t benefit either of you, and honestly, you were in the same boat, ready to get to your new home and start unpacking. The sun was starting to set already and you definitely didn’t want to be out after dark, plus you knew the exhaustion from the drive would be catching up soon.

“Um, it’s ok, I just think you need to be more careful next time. Listen, I don’t wanna be pulled over on this stretch of road for too long, God forbid a real bear, or someone without good reflexes comes around, but, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Take care.”

Wanting to avoid any more awkward interactions and the opportunity of embarrassing yourself in front of an adonis, you rushed back to your car and started back up the mountain. You could see the image of the man in your side mirror getting smaller, his gaze still fixed on your car, until you turned and lost sight of him.

Once you pulled into your new home, your mom met you with a suitcase, ready to take the stairs to the entrance.

“Well he was cute, albeit a little reckless. Wonder what was going on”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever see him again, though. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t need to make a habit of almost hitting things when driving around up here.”

You unlocked the door and held it open for your mom as she walked in and turned back to look at you. “Well, by the looks of how small this town is, you might. And once you figure out whatever’s going on in his head, maybe he’ll be a nice new friend to have up here.”

“Um, yeah, I guess. Maybe. After all this time, I think I’ll need a friend. Someone to restore my hope for humanity.”

You tried to lighten the mood regarding your distaste for others that had grown from feeling so deeply betrayed and your mom gave a knowing glance in response. But it seemed there was something more to it. It was knowing in more ways than one, hardly noticeable, as you turned to go get another load to bring in from the trunk.

Your mind raced with thoughts of having to get all of this junk into the house. You stepped out into the crisp mountain air, admiring the deepening blue sky and unobstructed stars, the darkness in contrast to the way your mood had brightened slowly from something similarly dark over the past year, becoming more like the stars that glowed in the beautiful night ski. As you trotted down the stairs, your tried to convince yourself that being here was going to be everything you hoped for yourself and your future ticket to happiness. That the last thing on your mind was love.

Next >

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

2 - Mouth of the Lion's Den

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 11.2k

Warnings: Slow Burn, strained parent-child issues, mentions of minor character death, injured/sick child mention, slight canon divergence

Notes: We're in the thick of the plot now. Based on the show but will include direct book elements. Previous Chapter Here.

You used to not travel very well as a child. The first time you left Dragonstone was right at the crux of the seasons change. Summer had ended, and it was a quick Autumn which felt far more like winter the more North you sailed. The sea was always cool, and the north was cooler. When you returned to Dragonstone some months later, Maester Cressen had said that the mix of seasons being the first time you left home is what caused you to get so ill.

What a meeting it was. Lord Stark had told you that it was halfway through your first meal with them when you collapsed. Barley touched anything on your plate which they first thought you just weren’t used to the food. That was until you collapsed onto the floor just as you stood from your seat as you burned up.

Whatever it was, it went through you fast and terrifying to the point where Maester Luwin had told Lord Stark to prepare to send a raven in case the worst happened. It didn’t though, you slept through the fever and by the time you awoke, you remembered none of it. You assumed you fell sick before arriving at Winterfell that’s how little you were really aware of anything.

It wasn’t like that anymore, but as you had sat in your room at the Inn days ago it did make you wonder what could have possibly hit Lord Arryn faster and harsher then that. Despite his age, he was more healthy as an older man then you were at the age of eight. Yet you had survived and his sickness burned through him in one single night.

Perhaps you had too much time that night to think on it, no one really was in any mood to converse after what happened. Once Lord Stark had put Lady down, he had you go find Jory. “Tell him to choose four men and have them take the body back North. Bury her at Winterfell.” He had taken the girls to their rooms, and even in the muffled quiet you could hear Sansa crying through the walls. Arya’s cries would be too quiet to hear, but you were no fool to think her chasing off Nymeria just to save her life wouldn’t leave the child in tears of her own.

So the Inn was silent, save for the low tones coming from Lord Stark’s own room. One where he laid the truth out, what Lysa has sent her sister, what it said about the Lannisters. He asked you what did you notice from before he died, and you were honest. Very little.

Your lord father had kept you away on purpose. He and Lord Arryn distant and secretive, and you had suspected you were sitting on small council meetings not just in his place but as if it would keep you preoccupied from their doings. Which it worked, but it also was not enough to dull you. Lord Stark agreed that it all worked out too seamlessly, Lord Arryn dies suddenly from an unknown illness, Stannis Baratheon urgently marries his firstborn daughter off to a far northern house as he himself flees to Dragonstone.

They both knew something, and what that was, sent your father away on his own accord. Shutting himself back on the grim island and leaving you to the wolves and the lions.

“You’re our family now. You are as good as one of my own daughters, and we protect our own. You stick by me once me get to Kings Landing. Work by my side, you’ll stay in our quarters with the girls until we learn what it is Jon Arryn died for.” Once again, that lingering feeling sat in your gut that walking out of the capital wasn’t going to be as easy as walking in this time around.

Now, sitting atop your horse once more you felt even less happy about being back then you had leaving the north. Your face flat and cold like stone as you rose through the crowds welcoming the King and his company once more. The cart behind you carrying the girls, Sansa no doubt bright eyed and taking in the awe of a place she dreamed would be for her. Arya you knew no doubt, was already wondering just how much she would explore when left to her own curious devices.

Just ahead of you, a page awaited everyone’s arrival. Calling to Lord Stark for a small council meeting at Grand Maester Pycelle’s request. You dared not move an inch thinking about how typical it was that such a meeting wasn’t called by the King himself, despite no doubt arriving before you all had. Oh the many matters of your King Uncle to attend too. So much wine to drink, and so many whores to fuck.

Lord Stark calling back, “Jory, get the girls settled in. I’ll be back in time for supper.” Calling your name, you climbed off your horse as he beckoned you. “You’re with me.”

The Page glancing over his attire and yours as you approached, “If you’d like to change into something more appropriate…” The combination of yours and Lord Stark’s unmoving stare causing him to stammer and backtrack. Any other time you may have considered it, but now you were here in place of your fathers position and spending time dolling yourself up once more looked more and more like a waste of time.

Renly had once told you every time you return to Kings Landing, you seem to be more and more of a splitting image of your bore of a father. He might be onto something in truth.

The Red Keep had not changed, and nothing passed your mind to care to think about it until the doors to the Throne room opened and right at the top looking up at the Iron Throne was just another face you wished not to see so early in the morning. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, and twin brother to the Queen, he certainly held all the superior smugness of such titles in his very posture had seemed to arrive far earlier then yourself.

A little nod did not suffice as you wished it did, as he saw fit to open his mouth as soon as you came even slightly close. “Lady Baratheon- or, I suppose it’s Stark now isn’t it? Already quite adjusted to the northern boys afterall, aren’t you?” Barley managing to muster up the weakest of half smiles he only grinned more, leaning in to give a fake too-loud whisper in your ear. “I do hope you weren’t too broken in for your new husband, would hate to break the boys heart before he even had a chance.”

Biting your tongue, you were sure had he not found victim in Lord Stark behind you, the pressure would’ve drawn blood. You didn’t wait, making your way into the small council chamber with little care of greeting those already present, for the most part.

“Ah, the newly named Lady Stark. I must congratulate you on your marriage, always nice to see the young love flourishing. Shame to be torn apart so early on.” Nodding, you managed more of a smile this time. You didn’t particularly trust Lord Varys but considering he was the man who likely knew so much he could tell you what you had for breakfast three days ago, playing nice was better then not playing at all.

“Thank you, Lord Varys. But, he has Winterfell to run and I have my work here. I’m sure Robb understands.”

Passing to the table, you nodded to Grand Maester Pycelle, and saw fit to ignore the other party in the room without any shame in doing so. Not that you would be aware of, but to the others it really was as if Lord Stannis had walked in like normal. The man having no patience for Petyr Baelish as well. If anyone lit your gaze up slightly, it was the smirk of the younger man already waiting by the opposite end.

Renly had no qualms about approaching you with a casualness, and no need to pretend as if either of you cared to be formally civil. “I can’t tell if the north suits you my dear niece, or if it’s just being around this lot making you so much more droll.”

Arms crossed in front of you, an eyebrow quirked up as he held a smirk. You’d hit him later. “Shame you were so busy Uncle, would have been nice to have at least one other family member there to share the festivities with.”

Hardly a secret anymore, most in the court knew of Renly’s private preferences but you might be the only one who knew it without any doubt. The only one it seemed, that he trusted to know as well. Not that his brothers would despise him for it, but certainly the King a bit too crass to not be offensive and well, least to say your father was not exactly a comforting kind of man. He wouldn’t care and he certainly would make you feel as such for it.

“What can I say, so much work, so many laws to look into.”

Your eyes glint, passing right by with a tone only audible enough for him, “Swordplay isn’t a law, last time I checked.” You’d be a fool to think Renly didn’t take advantage of so much of the royal court being away, not to lock himself up in his chambers with a certain flower for as long as he could get away with.

Not that you were in such a position to dare judge.

Your father used to get annoyed constantly by the lack of work Renly was properly given, but it might be he expected too much. Renly had a tendency to be handed easy tasks and get more credit then the nights your own father spent buried in papers in his office would accomplish. Leaning your hands on the top of what was now your seat, you watched the others greet the now approaching Lord Stark.

“We are all praying for Prince Joffery’s full recovery.”

Oh the rewards the gods should bestow upon you for how little you changed your expression. He gets one bite from a barley grown Direwolf and he has the realm on it’s knees pretending to sob at the tragic wounds. You had more scars on you from being hit with sticks and practice swords over your childhood before the spoiled Prince ever reached that age.

Even in Winterfell, you watched him get angry and frustrated at how often Robb would hit him in the courtyard simply beacuse he had no idea what he was doing. The Hound having to remind him even that he demanded they spar just to show off, and he can’t stand there and whine blaming Robb for doing exactly what he asked.

Besides, not that anyone had asked, you’d have to admit that not all bites from a wolf were entirely bad. At least it took as long as it did to get back to Kings Landing, those marks having healed over by the time it became too hot to cover them up then in the northern cold.

Renly’s voice from beside you, “You look tired from the road, I told them this meeting could wait another day but..”

“But we have a kingdom to look after.” Looking over you saw a strange smile on Lord Baelish’s face and so did everyone else if the uncomfortable air in the room was honest. “I’ve hope to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me.”

“She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.”

If Lord Baelish could have purposely made things more uncomfortable you think the room might have melted away just to escape it. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard whispers of his affection for her, but it was brazen of him to be so open about it in front of her husband of over twenty years.

Settling in, you sat beside Lord Stark as Renly pulled out a paper, explaining to the council that the King wasn’t exactly a common presence at the small council and most of these matters were left without his input. “My brother has instructed us to stage a tournament in honour of Lord Stark’s appointment as Hand of the King.”

Didn’t take being Master of Coin to know the money wouldn’t be coming from the surplus of the Crown. Grand Maester Pycelle’s frail voice piping up, “Can the treasury bear such expenses?”

As if ordering food from a servant, Lord Baelish waved the concern. “I’ll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accomodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold, what’s another eighty thousand.”

You felt for Lord Stark beside you, “Are you telling me the Crown is three million in debt?”

Looking firmly at the table with an irritated grimace, you corrected him for the worse. “Actually, he’s telling you the Crown is six million in debt.” Lord Stark, was in shock at the state, demanding to know how this could happen and once again, Lord Baelish acted like such debt was easily forgiven.

“The Master of Coin finds the money, the King and the Hand spend it.”

Lord Stark beside you sounded as annoyed as you felt on the inside but he was still tinged in disbelief as he looked at the man. “I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm.”

The Grand Maester for all his slowness, had the grace to speak the truth instead of washing it away like the other Lord in front of him. “Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear His Grace doesn’t always listen.”

Sitting up straight, you nor Renly were quite sure if it was his voice that came out of your mouth, or the unimpressed voice of your father who held the same opinions. “The King loves tournaments and feasts, but not the conversation of money that follows. ‘Counting Coppers’ he calls it.”

You admired his determination to reason with the King. Even with both his blood brothers at his side, neither man could settle his indulgences the way Lord Stark may have the ability too. Even now you could hear the ramblings and angry ravings of your father in his office, going about how he was born the wrong family if he were to ever make his brother listen. Many had thought that Lord Stannis would take over as Hand of the King, and you would take his place as Master of Ships in the immediate aftermath of Lord Arryns death.

Your father had been sat on the small council for almost ten years at that point, and had been home less and less as those years passed. The only letters he exchanged anymore were with some of his closest men, and of course, Shireen. You envied her in that sense. Not that she was loved in the way she was, but that she had such a happy innocence about her.

Once Maester Cressen had said she was the saddest girl he had ever met, that he considered that part of his failure to cure her. But she had been cured, just not by him and clearly he took it hard, but she wasn’t sad, not in the way some assumed. She loved learning, and your father had been determined to give her the same education as he had you. Everyday she would run to him once he was in his own quarters, jump onto his lap and go on about what book she was learning to read, and were he not there, she’d scramble to write a letter to tell him.

Few people adored Lord Stannis, but she was always his biggest supporter.

As you entered the very bottom of the tower of the hand, you wondered how much she knew. Did she know Lord Arryn was dead, did she know you were acting in your fathers place, did she even know you were married? She’d be upset to learn she wasn’t there for your wedding. One day when she was just barley older then a toddler, you had been sitting on the edge of a cliff on Dragonstone with Shireen sat in your lap.

Going on about what a highborn lady would do, who she’d marry and what the wedding would be. You planned hers and yours, just two little girls by the waters edge and it saddened you to think that she wasn’t there to see yours. Childishly, you wondered if she’d like Robb.

Walking through the door, you passed some of the Starks household guard, regarding you with a familiarity as you passed. As if you really were family, not just a guest. Maybe it was for the best that she had father with her again, at least he still felt like one to her.

The chambers were quiet, and as you saw what was left of easy food on the table you hadn’t the stomach for it. Sitting down regardless, you lifted some of the plates out of your place, pouring yourself water as you stared at the little flame the light on the table wickered with. Pulling out a small slip of paper from a small pocket, you slipped the seal off, a small direwolf. Looking over the words as you sipped at the water.

Sending a raven was risky for what he was trying to say, but Robb was smart enough to not say anything of anything. Telling you of Bran, and your heart broke at how devastated the boy feels of not being able to walk again. More he tells you of how he has no idea what to even say to make it better, that Bran just needs time to get used to things but watching his little brother be so miserable and not being able to fix it just makes him angry. You knew exactly how that felt, watching your little sibling suffer and being completely useless to them for it.

A slam shook you out of your focus, pulling the letter back suddenly and tucking it away before you looked up to see a somewhat grumpy Arya now at the table with you. “I know my face usually looks like that, but what’s got yours in such a put off state?”

Sighing, she draped her arms over the top of the surface to gently lay her head in them, turned enough to still see you. “I don’t know how you stand it, being here all the time.”

Leaning forward, you mimicked her posture, looking back at her now from a tilted but even eye level. “I’m here because I have to be, not because I want to be. I have a duty, and that needs to be upheld regardless if it makes me miss home or not.”

Pushing up suddenly, Arya’s eyes were bright and bordering on an intense curiosity. “You’d rather be home? At Dragonstone?”

Moving back yourself you paused as you opened your mouth. Closed it for a second, before sighing out as you crossed your arms over your chest. Leaning back against the chair behind you looking at the nothing of importance on the table. “Honestly? I’m not sure where that is anymore.” Her brows narrowed in confusion, “Where I feel at home I mean.”

Were there not such a heavy weight in your heart you may have smiled at how quickly she reacted, and the finality of her tone. “You’re one of us now, Winterfell is your home.” Just as something crossed your mind, it clearly did hers too. Shoulders deflating as she lost the shine in her eyes. “Or, it’s supposed to be.”

Heart reaching out to hers, you knew comforting wouldn’t make it better, or change what hurt in the first place. “You won’t be in Kings Landing forever.” Her eyes flickered to you and then back did they focus into her mind. “Eventually you’ll go back to Winterfell, get restless there too and you’ll either insist someone take you there or you’ll be old enough to just head out to visit on your own. He’ll always want to see you.”

Arya grumbled out, quiet and filled with a twinge of guilt as if she couldn’t decide should you be able to hear her or not. “Not just me he’ll want to see.”

Leaning forward, your back sat straight for the most part as you leaned your forearms against the table again. “There’s five of you, Arya. You have to share your brother with all of them at least sometimes.”

Quieter so much this time, you weren’t sure if you even actually heard her speak but there was a faint sound like, “Not just us,” that you choose to ignore. As Arya herself pushed passed it as well. “Sansa won’t care. She barley ever even calls him her brother.” There was a bite to her tone, and you knew all too well that it wasn’t just about this.

She didn’t find out until the next day about the butcher’s son, and she still hadn’t taken it very well.

You tried softly calling her name, but Arya got louder. Her arms swinging a bit as she gestured in her expressiveness. “She always calls him our bastard brother, not even half brother or anything like he’s not been her brother since she was born. She doesn’t respect him, she doesn’t respect anybody who isn’t herself or the stupid prince.”

Anywhere but the safety of her own walls, you’d scold her for so freely vocalizing her insolence. But she was in her new home, and Joffery certainly was a stupid, vile little creature who got Arya’s new friend killed. People could claim it was the Queen, but you unfortunately knew her well enough that she was far more clever of a monster then that. No, that was Joffery’s angry, immature rage which sent the Hound out against a boy not even in his teens.

Glancing at the door you knew to be both Lord Stark’s room, and if his work ethic was consistent, scribbling away on the too many tasks the King left to his Lord Hand, too busy to come out and hear you. “Do you want my honest opinion? About that night?” Her head nodding fervently, brows narrowed in a manner that looked so strikingly serious like Jons. “It doesn’t matter what Sansa would have said, as soon as Joffery showed up to the Inn bleeding, the Queen already made her mind up. Sansa could’ve told the complete truth and they still would’ve blamed you and Nymeria.”

A flash of sorrow in her eyes made your heart tighten painfully before covering it up with an easier to swallow emotion, “The she shouldn’t have lied! If it didn’t matter she could’ve told the truth about Micah and-”

“And the Queen would’ve done everything the same. And she still would’ve blamed you.” Leaning forward, your voice lowered to something much more serious. “People like you, like us? We don’t do well in places like this. You’re too honest and headstrong, and you haven’t been here long enough to learn how to hold back. And people like the Queen? Joffery? We are exactly who they want to take advantage of.”

You could hear the condescension even now, “She’s as wild as that animal of hers,” And it made you mad all over again. After some time when father brought you here, he ended up being the one to help you with your sword lessons alone in his own quarters, not wanting people like the Queen, or his brothers to have any more reason to look down on you. He wasn’t a popular man, he knew it, but he wouldn’t have these people mistreat his daughter, especially as a young teenager.

“I’m not saying you have to change, or pretend to be something you’re not. But I am telling you, this place has eyes and ears everywhere. Me, your father, Jory, people like that you can trust. You can be angry, and honest and upset around.” Glancing once again to Lord Starks door, you felt ashamed for what came from you next but mincing words was not a trait of the Stannis Baratheon variety of stags.

“Sansa wants to be here, and she wants to be apart of this because she’s naive. As long as the Lannisters give her pretty smiles, and soothing words she will bend to them because she thinks they could be her family some day. That doesn’t make it right the way she threw you and your friend to the wolves,” Arya quirked an eyebrow with a smirk, and you shook your head with one of your own. “Lions- shut up.”

Sighing, she leaned back into her seat. “I don’t hate her, not really. I just..”

“Don’t trust her.”

Glancing up with a bit of a stun, she seemed shocked you didn’t tell her to do anything otherwise. In a sense, you knew what she was feeling.

You loved Renly, he was closer to your age and the two of you always felt more like brother and sister with how easily he could bring out your more playful side in this pit of a captiol. But you didn’t trust him one bit. Not with your secrets, not with your work, and not with the particular companions he had been keeping as of late.

Renly and you were as close of friends as you had in this city, but at the end of the day. It was Stannis who was your father. It was the brother which both others looked down on, the daughter which had far too much of Stannis in her blood and personality to be seen as one of them. Robert didn’t care much for his brothers, but best be said he is lying to himself if he thinks he doesn’t show preference to Renly.

Stannis had always felt he was cheated of Storms End. The ancestral seat of House Baratheon, his by rights. Many times even in your tenure here at his side, he had gone to King Robert singing the same song. Anytime it was mentioned, your father would clench his jaw so tightly, you thought his teeth would shatter. You once had brought it up to one of his men, back on Dragonstone that he seemed to take it as a slight.

Ser Davos Seaworth had just looked at you with a somber look, one that was as sympathetic to his lord as he was offended on his behalf. “I think, my little lady, King Robert had meant it as a slight.”

It was the same here. Arya suffered, was threatened and attacked, her own direwolf having to be sent away just for protecting her master, and her new friend murdered for just agreeing to play duel by the river. Sansa had lost Lady in the Queens injustice, but she still got to walk the capitol and be treated like the princess she dreamed of being. While Arya was looked at as wild, untruly, and thought less of without being given a chance.

Falling back into the present, you sighed deeply. “Why do you think my Uncle Renly fits in here, when I stand out as much as your father does?”

Arya too, glanced at the closed door. “Because he plays along?”

“And I do my duty.” Sipping at the water once more before continuing. “Sansa is your family, and you shouldn’t forget that. You need each other, but I’m not asking you to trust her. Not the way you do your father, or Jon-”

“Or you.”

In those two words, your heart missed Shireen. She and Arya were alike in a lot of ways, Shireen a little more reserved but the same eager and honest spirit. You smiled, unsure if it was warmth of how Arya saw you, or yearning for the little sister you barley had seen grown up so far.

Silence between you was comfortable for a moment, until of course, Arya found something to blurt out. “Father caught me with Needle.” Raising your eyebrows, she slunk down a bit. “Needle’s my…it’s my sword. Well sort of a sword, it’s small and thin, but it’s supposed to be for my size. Anyways, he knocked on my door and I didn’t really notice that I didn’t bother hiding it. Or maybe I didn’t care if he saw me with it. He let me keep it, but he says I shouldn’t play with swords.”

Shrugging one shoulder, your voice was strangely casual. “They aren’t toys.”

“I know that!” You laughed at how defensive she got. You had a feeling you weren’t the first or even second person to tell her that. “You can use a sword, why shouldn’t I?”

Smiling to yourself, you refrained from specifying that the only reason you started to be trained on how to use one, is beacuse a certain dark haired, grey eyed boy had snuck up behind you and hit you with a practice one when no one was around to scold you two for it.

“Will you teach me?”

The letter in your pocket begin to weight you down, you needed to ask Lord Stark about it before morning. You had another small council meeting early on and you didn’t fancy being kept out of the dark again. Standing up, you ran your hand playfully over her hair as you passed. “That’s up to your father. It’s late, go get some sleep.”

Turning to approach Lord Stark’s room, you missed the feeling glance from the small Stark watching you leave. Something in her eyes that knew things which you couldn’t have guessed she was privy too, but just added to her growing admiration all the same.

As you guessed, the man was sitting at his desk writing away when he called for you to enter. Shutting it gently behind you with a polite, “Lord Stark.”

Chuckling, his hand paused before shaking his head slightly and continuing. “You’re allowed to call me my name, you know. I think marrying my son gives you the right to at drop the titles in private.”

Nodding once as you approached, “I’ll try to remember that.” He knew you wouldn’t.

When you hesitated, he looked up at you with a questioning look. “What is it?”

You stood unsure for another moment before quickly moving to take a seat on the opposite side of his desk, pulling out the letter. “I heard from Robb.” Lord Stark- Ned, leaned forward curiously. “Nothing new, just updating me about Bran, how he’s fairing as Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’m assuming you’re not just here to make small talk.”

Well it certainly wasn’t your skill that was true. Inhaling a slow breathe, you looked straight at him to just ask what you needed to confirm. “Lady Catelyn was here, wasn’t she?” His brows narrowed deeply as he reached a hand out, taking the letter from you.

Skimming over, he smiled amusingly as he reached the end. “You two talk in code often?”

You failed to prevent the smirk on your lips before you had noticed it was even forming. “Only when we’re talking about things we’re not supposed to.”

“And how often is that, exactly?”

You only shrugged. You, Robb, Jon, and later Theon, would get into trouble a lot when you were younger. But when you would leave, you and Robb figured out a way to talk about things that would certainly get you punished if your father ever found out. So you started writing in almost childish imagery. Hence the end of his letter, saying to ask his father about “some stray kitten I saw running around the halls the other day.”

Folding the letter, he handed it back to you. “Clever. But he’s right. I shouldn’t keep this from you, and Robb clearly doesn’t want me too.” Leaning back he pulled something from his desk, what looked like a blade with a rich ornate handle to it. Placing it on the desk you leaned forward to look closer as he explained. “A man came into Brans room some night after we had all left Winterfell. Told Cat no one was supposed to be there, that it was a kindness.”

The bite in his tone was angry and spiteful even if his face remained steadfast. Like he was lost in thought, he seemed to trail off in his head before coming back. Telling you of the man trying to kill him, how he had almost killed Lady Catelyn in the process, and the direwolf which ripped the assassins throat out. “Bran’s wolf had saved his life..”

Leaning forward you felt a horror bubble up inside of you, Bran was a boy of ten who would do such a thing? Voice weaker, cracking a bit at the look of almost shame or guilt in his eyes forming. “Lord Stark?”

Head shooting up to look at you, like those words, that specific title speaking of the wolves clicked something in his head that he didn’t know how to feel. “The direwolves, when we found them in the woods…Jon had said something. That my children were meant to have them..”

Jon hadn’t included himself. There were five pups, two girls and three boys and Jon had purposely not counted himself as one of Lord Stark’s children in order to prove they were meant to go to them. He had found Ghost off to the side all on his own, so quiet Jon wasn’t even sure how he had heard Ghost’s tiny cry when not a soul other had.

Lord Stark still lost in his thought, “If the Gods sent those wolves…I killed Sansa’s..” Just as fast as he lost himself in a spiral, he took back the reigns and pulled right back out of it. “Everything adds up but I don’t know to why. Lysa telling her that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn, Jaime Lannister being the only man who didn’t join the hunt the day Bran fell and strands of blonde hair in the tower when I could tell you for a fact no one had been in there for a very long time.”

He tapped his fingers at the blade and you felt a weight in your throat trying to fight against the words. “The blade?”

Lord Stark laughed meaninglessly. “The blade belongs to Tyrion Lannister.”

For all that you knew him, and for as different as he seemed, you couldn’t find it in your heart to see such traits past the blood of who he was and who his family was. “How do you know?”

The answer, you liked even less. Lost in a bet to the Lannister during a tourney, the previous owner knew who it now belonged to without any doubt, beacuse it’s previous owner was Petyr Baelish.

You were finding it increasingly hard to figure out who you didn’t like more in this city. Luckily for Tyrion Lannister he in fact, wasn’t in the city so he found your newfound anger towards him unobtrusive. Not as lucky for you, sitting at the small council you found too many men in the room you didn’t trust as far as you could throw.

Lord Varys avoided much interaction with you has he did your father, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fully aware of every step you had taken in this city and no doubt others. You dared not think about how much he really knew, not that it mattered much now, but you didn’t appreciate the concept of lording information over another head to make them dance.

Lord Baelish was as trustworthy as he was kind, meaning none. A self serving worm who had no care for anything or one that didn’t give him either money or power. Though, you did consider him to be the less offensive to look at only if in comparison to the bloated faced man standing before the council.

Lord Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch was nothing short of an insult to the eyes. Patchy facial hair that didn’t quite sit well over the slight pudginess of his face that wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t also always plastered with a high and mighty look as if he knows better. Standing before you, speaking of his struggle to keep the peace in the streets.

His voice covered itself in slime. “It’s the Hand’s tournament that’s causing all the trouble, my lords.”

An exhaustion sat in Lord Starks shoulders, his tone annoyed as his posture to the idea. “The King’s tournament. I assure you the Hand wants no part in it.”

Your father didn’t care for Lord Stark personally, but at least they would agree at such a waste of expenses. Being Master, or in your case, acting Master of Ships didn’t mean you were not painfully aware of how much spending your assets should be restricted of just to amuse the growing relentlessness of the King.

Slynt continued. “Call it what you will Lord Stark, the city is packed with people and more flooding in everyday. Last night we had a tavern riot, a brothel fire, three stabbings, and a drunken horse race down the Streets of Sisters.”

Your eyes narrowed, voice loud and yet even with little emotion behind it. It unnerved many how similar you were to the unwelcoming and bluntness of your lord Father. “Discipline should lie with the capabilities of a commander. If you cannot keep the King’s peace during something as innocuous as a tourney, perhaps the City Watch should be commanded by someone whose ability we can rely on.”

Oh the fire in his eyes as he glared at you, spit coming from his mouth as it did his worse. His chest and cheeks puffing like a frog. “I need more men.”

Lord Stark had the final decision however, and you would never dare go against or even speak up against it. Such a thing was not your place, nor would you let it be. “You’ll get fifty, Lord Baelish will see it paid for.” Your own harsh gaze, bordering on a glare peeling over to the Master of Coin seemingly surprised by the notion. Lord Stark’s order firmer then ever. “You found money for a champions purse, you can find money to keep the peace.” Turning to Slynt, “I’ll also give you twenty if my household guard until the crowds have left.”

Giving more men to the one who didn’t know how to command them with fairness was not quite how you felt about such actions, regardless of how the rest of the council didn’t agree. Was it too harsh of a stance, or was it a firm position influenced by what you already knew was incompetence. Janos Slynt was not someone trustworthy, but as long as he got paid he would do the bare minimum.

You and Lord Stark sharing a glance as he relaxed somewhat. “The sooner this is over the better.”

Lord Varys leaning forward, tone as even and light with hope as he could paint it. “The realm prospers from such events, my Lord. They give the great a chance at glory, and the lowly a respite from their woes.”

Legs crossing over the other you sat back in your seat. “It’s not glory those men need more of, Lord Varys I can assure you. They have quite enough of that to go around.”

Lord Baelish leaning far too close to make eye contact with a sly grin. “And yet it puts coins in many a pocket, my Lady. Glory has filled every Inn throughout the city, and the whores are walking bow legged with every step.”

Grin growing more detestable as you looked from him with an uncomfortable glare. Your dear Uncle did not help the matter as he spoke up, a laugh in his lungs doing so. “We’re fortunate my brother Stannis is not with us. Remember when he proposed to outlaw brothels? Robert had asked if he’d like to outlaw eating, drinking, and shitting while he was at it.”

The force to not roll your eyes tested your every power of will. Every sense of faith in a man like your father that they assumed he had suggested or done so on Dragonstone for the superficial. Many Lords in the capital were keen on keeping your father at an arms length and you couldn’t help but speculate how much was truly just his personality, and what was fear deep down.

Afterall, he had two living children, and four which had passed before they could become your brothers. Clearly it wasn’t sex itself that was what he disliked about the premises.

Lord Stark looked to you instead of bothering to even entertain this discussion, calling your name. “You haven’t heard from Lord Stannis have you? He has not formally passed is place on the council to you, I’d have to guess he intends to return from his visit at some point?”

Neither of you said it to the current company, but Lord Stark didn’t quite appreciate the treatment of his new daughter by marriage. Sending you off to be wed out of nowhere, not accompanying or letting your mother or sister come to see you married, and then dragging you away from his son after one night to act on the council in his unexplained absence.

It was unfair to you and Robb, and it also sat rather suspiciously that you had been kept so terribly in the dark with this, and whatever your father had been investigating with Lord Arryn.

Lord Baelish’s tone was as mocking as ever, looking right at you. “No doubt he’ll return as soon as we’ve scourged all those whores into the sea.” You could hear Renly laugh somewhere to your left.

Standing abruptly, you smoothed down your skirt and nodded stiffly. “Until tomorrow, my lords.” As you stepped away you muttered uncaring if you were heard or ignored. “I’ve heard quite enough about my father and whores for one day.”

Renly’s laughter bothered you the whole way out of the small council chamber. You and Lord Stark had business to inquire of Grand Maester Pycelles but you found yourself perfectly content with waiting out of ear from mocking of your lord father for one day.

Words from the night before long since burned in the light of one of your rooms candles, in your pocket now sat one of you own writing and a new one sent to you. A raven from Dragonstone had surprised you only as long as it took to see the neatness of the letters.

Shireen was outraged that she missed your wedding. Had asked a million questions, what did you wear, who attended, did Winterfell have a nicer sept then they? That one you were going to have to explain another time that in your new life, you found more peace in the way the Starks followed that of the old gods. More questions of what is the capitol like with the new hand, was Robb as handsome as she was picturing. A question which even in the privacy of your own room, made you fluster a bit.

Only your dear sister could have you ready to spill about a man your married too, in ways like you were still a girl her age with a petty crush. Her letters always long, and always excited to hear what her well travelled big sister was doing regardless of how little you ever wanted to tell the truth of it anymore.

She was just a child, a rather innocent one at that. You wondered what father told her of the reason behind his sudden return home. Thinking to the two girls you returned to the city with, they too, were too young to have to be around this den of masks and liars. At least Arya’s needle was a bit more of protection then that of Sansa’s naivety.

Grand Maester Pycelle’s office was unbearably stuffy. The scents, the thick air and the mixture of whatever liquids sat both around the surfaces and tucked away into cupboards did not make the heat of summer any easier.

His frail voice seeming having gone on for far too long, “The smallfolk say the last year of summer if always the hottest. It is not often so, but it can feel that way does it not? On days like this, I envy you northerners and your southern snows.”

Both you and Lord Stark standing by his desk, it felt as if he was ready to dismiss before why an audience was requested in the first place. “I’ve been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn.”

To his credit, the Grand Maester had the patience to look surprised by the subject but not suspiciously so. “Lord Arryn? His death was a great sadness to us all. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him.”

Eyes narrowing slightly with a tilt of your head, you considered back to your own insights. “Did he seem sickly to you before the fever hit him? He hasn’t seemed like himself for some time but it never struck me like a physical ailment.”

Considering the idea, the Grand Maester himself looked a tad shamed. You doubted there wasn’t much he could do, and yet you could see similar feelings of confused failure in like your own once Maester Cressen. “His sickness truck him very hard, and very fast. I saw him in my chambers just the night before he passed. Lord Arryn often came to me for counsel.”

Lord Stark bluntly asking, “Why?”

Your insides rolled over at how indigent and offended the man instantly became at Lord Stark’s mere question. Nothing but worry over pride and image for such people. “I have been Grand Maester for many years. Kings and Hands have come to me for advice since-”

Voice raising enough to speak over him, you cut his tongue back down with the sharpness of your own tone. “Why did Lord Arryn seek you out, the night before he died? What did he want?”

The answer, only brought more questions.

Bringing you and Lord Stark closer in his office to a shelf, many large tomes sat across them as he shakily dragged one onto his desk. Landing it down in front of Lord Stark with a thud. “The lineages and histories of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms. With descriptions of many high lords, noble ladies, and their children.”

Watching Lord Stark pull off the metal clasp and tossing it down, the book was loose and not well made but the pages inside were vast on thick paper filled to the brim with words in many styles of writing in many degrees of faded letters. Flipping through multiple pages until he landed on one at random, Lord Stark begun reading out one of the passages.

“…blue of eye, brown of hair, and fair complected. Died in his fourteenth year of a wound sustained in a bear hunt.”

Head tilting as he sat back down, “As I said my Lord, a ponderous read.”

“Did Jon Arryn tell you what he wanted with it?”

A slight shake no, of his head. “He did not, my Lord. And I did not presume to ask.”

Skimming the pages, you barley glanced at them before looking up to meet the Grand Maesters eyes but did not find him hiding much behind them. Nothing pertaining to the conversation at least as Lord Stark continued his inquiry. “Jon’s death, did he say anything to you during his final hours.”

Instinctively he denied, “Nothing of import, my Lord.” before pausing his hand raised as if to collect his thoughts within them from his older mind. “There was one phrase he kept repeating. The Seed is Strong, I think it was.”

Your eyes narrowed, “The seed is strong? What does that mean?”

No curiosity in his eyes, “The dying mind is a demented mind, Lady Stark.”

Whatever he said right after, was missed in the brief second of childish notions, much like what Shireen always tried to dish from you. Some familiar just called you by your name, others stuck to the simple My Lady, others such as Ser Jaime Lannister only switched between names in mocking as if there was something usual about a highborn lady taking on the House of their husband.

But hearing Lady Stark so casually, shouldn’t have clicked such a second of girlish glee as it had. You pulled yourself together though, hoping neither noticed your stammer of formality. Lord Stark beside you continuing, “And you’re quite certain he died of a natural illness?”

Grand Maester Pycelle seemed taken back, alleviating guilt at how quick his confusion at such a suggestion was at least ticked a name off your list. “What else could it be?”

Lord Stark seemed like he however, knew what his answer was. “Poison.”

Unwilling to think of such a crime, he shook his head in denial. “A disturbing thought…I don’t think it likely. The Hand was loved by all, what sort of man would dare-”

Your eyes and Lord Stark’s flickered to the other for just a moment, your voice without accusing if only in pure read of your words. “I’ve heard it said poison is a woman’s weapon.”

“Yes. Women, cravens…and eunuchs. Did you know Lord Varys is a eunuch?”

The spinning of mistrust once more, not the game neither you nor Lord Stark cared to get involved with now or ever. Enough was on your plate as it was. There was no conceivable thought of what Lord Varys would gain from murdering Lord Arryn in your mind. Then again, Lysa had named the Lannisters and yet you too had no idea what would be gained by that either.

Nor what trying twice to murder an innocent ten year old boy wold gain. But the signs all pointed to the golden lions.

Finding Arya near the top of the steps balancing on one foot, you smiled. Taking the tome from Lord Stark to his office for him so he could inquire what her dancing teacher had her practising now. Earlier he had commented to you that it felt like everyday Arya came back with new bruises or scratches with a worried furrow in his brow.

You simply had held back a smirk, “If I recall that’s exactly how everyone found out I was learning to sword fight when I was her age.”

Lord Stark had laughed much easier, running a hand over his stubble. “It took us that long to find out because you and Jon would sneak out at night so neither of you would get in trouble.” The first few lessons did have a lot of Jon hitting you harder each time until you got fed up and learned to block properly. “You should be thankful it was me who caught you and not Cat.”

You were twelve at the time, Jon fourteen and even all those years ago still far stronger then you. You couldn’t have imagined how much trouble he would’ve gotten in were it now your own father who caught you two one night.

Sitting now at Lord Stark’s desk, you had been mindlessly flipping through the book. Pausing at random pages before coming across the current accounts of Baratheons. The King first, and his children, then your lord father and his. Including all four which never made it, and a sickening description of Shireen as “disfigured” from her greyscale.

Renly when he thought neither or your father in ear had often referred to Shireen as “that ugly daughter of his” and you hated it. She would’ve been far worse had your father listened to the other Lords. Send her off to old Valyria to be of the stonemen before she infected the whole of Dragonstone.

Dancing over her name with your tapping finger, you told yourself not to. Biting your tongue before your weakness overtook and flipped to the pages of the current Starks. Glancing down to Lord Eddard Stark, then that of Robb did you pause. Shireen asking if he was handsome and certainly the drollness of a Maesters documents did nothing to answer that.

But your eyes skipped down. Looking to the description of Eyes of Grey, black of hair and the beginnings of the letter ‘S’ coming into sight did you slam the book shut with an angry huff. Your best friend for so long, and now his memory tainted with feelings which you both were forced to tear away from.

You’d love to just think of Jon the way you could Theon. Fond memories that weren’t anything more, and none which made the flutter in your stomach getting used to your new husband feel shameful. Hearing Lord Stark’s footsteps you stood up from his seat, leaning against the wall to the side with your arms crossed your chest.

Closing the door behind him, “Do you know a Ser Hugh of the Vale?” Head jolting back you found nothing with such a title and name until Lord Stark elaborated. “He was Jon Arryns squire.” Your lips parting in recognition you turned to look back at him confused. “He was knighted after his murder.”

“Knighted for what?”

Tilting his head he almost smiled. “That’s what you’re going to find out.”

Ser Hugh as it turned out, was exactly the kind of glory seeker you knew didn’t need more cheers and gold bolstering his ego. Down in the open field where they set up the tourney, you recognized him at least while he was in much more average attire. Still nicer then what you recalled he wore as a squire.

“Ser Hugh?”

Your footsteps towards him quick and long, your voice not shouting and yet projecting enough to startle those around as the man turned annoyed towards you. “As you can see, I’m busy.”

Busy taking steps, yes a task needing great concentration to a man of his calibre. Your eyes narrowed in the bright sun making you look far less tolerant of such an attitude. Renly once had said that between the flowing dresses, the light fabric of an equally as long cardigan with hair that looked far nicer unrestricted by whatever styles these girls in the capital pretended were fashionable, you might actually attract a suitor once in a while were it not for you being a perfect copy of your father’s morose and drab glare.

“I’m here on behalf of Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King-”

Not giving you a second chance, he waved you off. “Well run along and tell your master if the Hand wishes to speak to me, he should come himself. Knights don’t have time for a servant girls questions.”

Turning and stepping along the path you resisted the urge to see his head smash into the wooden railing he walked beside. There was no point in arguing, he seemed unlikely to be honest if he did answer any questions, and you and Lord Stark had a much more promising visit far down in the streets of the city.

“He said he’d only be willing to talk to the hand himself. A knight such as him.”

You and Lord Stark glancing at the other with a vapid smirk, of course how could you have been such a fool to dare ask anything of a well seasoned warrior such as Ser Hugh of the Vale. Intrepid Knight of Half a Day.

“Ah, a knight. They strut around like roosters down here. Even the one who’ve never seen an arrow coming their way.” The armoury Lord Baelish had directed you towards approached quickly. Sounds of yelling and barters all around and children play fighting in every direction.

Many eyes looked towards the pair riding down the path. Either such a sight was unusual to them, or perhaps all too similar. The Lord Hand and Master of Ships travelling down the poor city streets looking in the same places for the same people, only months after the last pair did the same to no known success.

“We should be careful out here alone, my Lord. There’s no telling which eyes belong to who.” Glancing at him, he seemed unaffected by the idea. Climbing off your horse as he did too, you both steeled in a natural air of cold confidence. Working beside Lord Stark for you was easy, you couldn’t however imagine such an easy pairing in Lord Arryn and your own father.

“Let them look.”

Tobho Mott greeted you both with upmost respect, seemed to be much more relaxed with your presence then he did mention of your lord father. Lord Stark beside you prompting the conversation moreso. “What did Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis want?”

“They came to see the boy.”

Lord Stark saying he’d like to see him as well, Tobho nodded and turned into the forge where the consistent smashing of metals stopped banging. “Gendry,”

Easy to see from his demeanour, it was clear he was likely either incredibly lowborn, or even a slave must to your dismay. He didn’t look at either you or Lord Stark in the eye, standing straight and respectable, but did not think he had the right to make eye contact.

You stood still, trying to see what it is that would be on any interest to the lords before. Not just that, what was seen which scared your father back to Dragonstone, and Lord Arryn into the grave? The three men went back and forth for a while over the ornate bulls helmet which he had made himself, easing the pair into the inquiry.

His voice didn’t give much away, but a tint of attitude which wasn’t unfamiliar. Taller then, you, his hair was dark to the point of a deep brown and by your guess would be a a little younger then you. Lord Stark changed subject, “When Lord Arryn came to visit you what did you talk about?”

Not looking still, your eyes narrowed as something pricked at your skin. “Just as me questions is all, milord.” Next asked if your father had ever questioned him, was a rare moment that made you break a smirk and eyes lit up with an amusement not often seen of you in Kings Landing. “No, he never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done for his daughter.”

Mott turning and raising his voice. “Watch your tongue boy. This is Lord Stannis’s own daughter you’re speaking too.” Turning to you with sincere apology in his eyes you couldn’t seem to look away from Gendry. He apologized, but you only found yourself looking at him with a more scrupulous gaze.

You tried, but whatever pricked at your skin settled over every corner of it until you wanted to twitch with unease. Lord Stark spoke for you, sensing that you were seeing something close to what he was slowly putting together. “What kind of questions did Lord Arryn ask?”

“About my work at first. If I was being treated well, if I liked it here. But then he started asking me questions about my mother.”

You spoke up before you could stop yourself. “Your mother?” Gendry specifying he meant just who she was and what she looked like, you continued to speak first unable to keep the intensity away out of your gaze on him. “What did you tell him?”

“She died when I was little. She had yellow hair, she’d sing to me sometimes.”

You couldn’t say why it clicked, but it did. Stepping forward you were sharper with him then you may have intended, “Look at me.”

Meeting your eyes, you felt that sensation shiver through your body like you had just been tossed in a river. There was no denying what it was you were seeing. Had you not known better, you could’ve mistaken Gendry for your own brother. The green eyes wide and bright, hair so dark and thick, the strength in resemblance of his facial structure and all linking back to why the snark of attitude pinged at you.

Almost in shock you leaned back, glancing to Lord Stark who briefly flickered to meet your eyes with an unsettled understanding of what you were seeing. You didn’t like what you were feeling in any way. Lord Stark handed him back the bull helmet, “Get back to work, lad.”

Diligently, he left further into the forge and the hammering started once again as Lord Stark spoke quietly to Mott. “If a day ever comes that boy would rather wield a sword then forge one, you send him to me.”

Coming up to Renly’s quarters, your head was in a spin and something told you to go anywhere that wasn’t where all your questions had laid. Knocking on his door, you almost jumped back in surprise by the one who actually answered.

Taller then you with a darkish dirty blonde hair rung up into curls that most girls you know envied with passion, Ser Loras also stood before you shirtless in a manner you amusingly knew a certain young redheaded Stark would’ve had her cheeks turn just as red at the sight off. Luckily for you, the shock on his face and the smirk on yours already knew the story better.

Walking in as you brushed past him, you raised your eyebrows at your Uncle now rushing to cover his own chest as if you were stupid enough not to know. “My Lady, apologies we were just-”

Turning to Loras beside you, you smirked wider with a playful squint in your eye. “Ser Loras, a word of advice. If you wish your private affairs to remain private, maybe don’t answer my Uncle’s door when you’re both still shirtless and this one’s still in bed.” You nodded over to the annoyed Renly.

Loras couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or horrified, but left as soon as he could be considered half way presentable. Door closing behind him, you walked in further, leaning against Renly’s desk. “I know discretion isn’t your strong suit Renly, but maybe if he’s trying to keep it a secret at least pretend you two aren’t locked up in bed half the time.”

Rolling his eyes, he reached passed out to pour himself wine. “Aren’t you missing your tournament?”

Shaking your head at his offer of a glass to you, “Oh am I Hand of the King, now?”

Glaring, he rested beside you against the desk as he sipped. “Spending enough time with him, it’s easy to mistaken I suppose. Much like my dear brother seemed.” Glancing beside you, you said nothing as he continued with mocking joy. “Jon and Stannis spend an increasing amount of time together only to stop when one of them dies and the other runs away out of reach. Only difference is the Hand this time is a wolf, but the Stag stays the same. Or are you a wolf now too?”

Pushing off smug with himself, you crossed your arms. “I married into a house of wolves, my name is theirs now, I suppose yes dear Uncle I am a wolf now if such a distinction matters.” Titling your head you were far less amused now and much more openly accusatory. “Does that make you a rose, or just a stag stupid enough to let roses tie themselves around him?”

He glared at you, “My relationship-”

“I’m not talking about Loras. Not for that. I’m talking about the less time you spend doing your duty the more I seem to find you spending time whispering with the Tyrells.” The guilt on his face grew tenfold as you slammed more to the open air. “You didn’t hide very well what your plan for his sister was, Margaery was it?”

Oh you hit a wound. Renly face twisting into a snarl unbecoming of someone like him. “Plan?”

Crossing your arms you didn’t move an inch but your eyes trained on his with scrutiny. “What was it my father said you planned, trying to make dear Margaery, Robert’s whore?” He paled but you didn’t let him blabber. “Everyone in the seven kingdoms knows he’s got enough of those, so I have to ask why exactly try to send the pretty girl from Highgarden into the bed of our well rode, drunken King, and then you yourself having the same ride by her own brother?”

He shrugged, but did not do well at hiding his anxiety. “You and Stannis are missing out, Tyrells are quite interesting in bed.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So are wolves, I’ve found.”

“Did you come here for this or what?”

Pushing up you walked more to the middle of the room. “No, actually I came here to ask if you’re going to the tournament tomorrow.”

Renly’s eyes flickered side to side, “Most likely. Why?”

You shrugged, losing all pretense of suspicion for now. “Just wondering if I’ll have someone to talk to who doesn’t make me want to tear into my palms.” Renly laughed, telling you this was the wrong place for that.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, for a brief moment he looked actually concerned. “I know I joke about it, but the capital doesn’t suit you does it?” He smiled when you shook your head no. “You know every time you came back from Winterfell you looked miserable. You hated coming back here and each time you come back a little more fed up then the time before.”

You said nothing as you looked blankly at him. There was nothing to deny, coming back here was always the worst and it never stopped being the worst until you were back with the Starks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your wedding.”

You shrugged. Not the answer or even emotion he expected, but you were just looking at him.

The wide bright eyes, the shape of his cheeks, jaw, the colours in those eyes and the darkness of the thick hair he was so bad at letting grow out just like your father. All you could think of was what in those looks scared your father out of the city.

What did he find in those looks that was so bad it got Lord Arryn killed. You and Lord Stark had many clues but no hints except for one glaring one. You had returned to the horses, nearby where Jory had been waiting.

When he asked if you two had found anything, you hadn’t been quite the same since realizing what Lord Stark had. All you could see when looking at Renly now, was what Lord Stark told Jory then.

Something that had no right being a clue to such a dark mystery and yet here you were, standing before water as murky then ever only this time it was your own kin that was being told as the dangers to look out for.

Gendry wasn’t just a tiny clue of no meaning, somewhere in Lord Arryn’s death was a page about finding King Robert’s bastard son.

[risingode]

better than revenge

summary: you don't hate jungkook's best friend. no, you just really, really dislike her and her very apparent crush on your boyfriend

pairing: jungkook x y/n

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 2.6k

warnings: jungkook is so clueless, y/n talks about hitting people a lot, light making out, arin is very annoying

note: please comment or send me an ask to let me know what you think! this is my first post on here, i'm very nervous lol. i really hope you enjoy it !!

(loosely based on better than revenge by taylor swift, enjoy </3)

-

You and Jungkook had been looking forward to this trip to Hawaii for months. The two of you were excited to spend some time away from the stresses of everyday life and just enjoy each other's company. You had invited your friends, fellow couples Taehyung and Jennie, and Jimin and Jiyeon. Jungkook proposed, much to your dismay, that you could also ask Arin to tag along. Arin was his childhood friend, and as much as you tried to like her for your boyfriend's sake, it was so glaringly obvious how not so friendly her attraction was for him. You had brought this up to Jungkook when you first began dating, but he brushed it off, saying they both saw each other as brother and sister and that she was nothing to worry about.

You still had your reservations regarding her, but you didn't put up more of a fight, deciding instead to trust your boyfriend and his loyalty and love for you. The eight of you had just arrived at your hotel and were settling in your rooms. You and Jungkook shared a room, while Taehyung and Jennie, Jimin and Jiyeon, and Arin each had their own rooms. 

"Baby?" Jungkook asks. You turn your head in question. "Do you wanna go surfing real quick? We have nothing to do today besides the dinner reservation later tonight." 

You smile. The pair of you loved surfing, you began doing it together shortly after you started dating, and it became a sacred tradition you guys had. Every weekend, you would drive to the nearby beach by your shared apartment, surfboard in tow, and surf for hours.

"Of course, my love, let me unpack our clothes first and change into my bathing suit." He nods, squeezing your waist lightly. As you were unpacking, Arin came into your room to chat with Jungkook. Awkwardly, you shuffle into the bathroom to avoid unneeded interaction with her.

"So, have you decided what you want to do first?" Arin asks, trying to make conversation.

"I think we're going to hit the beach and maybe do some surfing," Jungkook replies. Your eye twitches, and you have to restrain every bone in your body from reaching over and slapping him over the head.

"That sounds like so much fun!" Arin exclaims. "Can I come with you guys?"

"Uh, sure," You say, trying to hide your annoyance. Of course. You feel your neck tighten in what you presumed to be pent-up frustration, yet, you know this was only the beginning. 'Whatever,' you thought. You were aware Arin couldn't surf, so you didn't feel bothered. You knew you could leave her behind to swim alone while the pair of you caught some waves. 

You should've known that Arin wouldn't keep her mouth quiet, though, because soon enough, the whole group was clambering into your small room, all rambling about how excited they were to surf. You didn't want to sound rude, but you and Jungkook hadn't spent much alone time together recently, and the thought of spending at least a few hours by yourselves sounded so good. You plaster a fake smile, and Jungkook sends you an apologetic one.

The group of you headed down to the beach, and like you predicted, Arin kept trying to join in, but she wasn't very good and kept falling off her board. Your satisfied smile turns sour, though, once Jungkook moves to grab her by the waist and set her back on her own two feet. You wish you could dunk his head underwater and hold him there. 

After a while, you all returned to the hotel to prepare for dinner. As you were getting dressed, Arin once again made herself at home in your room, chatting with Jungkook about how he needed to teach her how to surf. Your annoyance was bubbling over at this point because as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, you realized Arin was wearing a dress similar to the one you were in.

 This, of course, wouldn't have been a problem; coincidences happen! Yet, you knew you weren't being dramatic in your anger because this was the very same dress you had bought in the resort's small boutique that afternoon when you guys first arrived. The same boutique that all eight of you entered at the same time and where you spent an hour deciding which of the dresses you and the other girls should get and wear for dinner that night. You had all, Arin included, picked out four very different dresses. Your dress was decided by both yourself and Jungkook as he gloated about how beautiful you looked in it. Did she … Did she really go back and buy your same dress?

"Hey, Arin, that's the same dress I was going to wear tonight," You say, slightly annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I realized later that the one I had initially picked out wasn't flattering on me," Arin replies, not sounding very apologetic.

You quirk an eyebrow, "Hmm, that's so weird because you kept saying how it made you look so good back at the store!" A fake smile on display, you brush past her and make your way toward your boyfriend, struggling to button up his shirt.

"Be nice," He whispers. You finish buttoning up his shirt and reach up to smack him on the forehead. He could be really stupid.

You tried to brush it off, for Jungkook's sake, and you all headed out to dinner. During the meal, Arin kept trying to talk to Jungkook, ignoring you completely. Gritting your teeth at another one of her aggravating laughs, you settle a hand on Jungkook's shoulder, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Resting your hands on the sink, you try to catch your breath. One, two, three. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. Feeling a lot better now and not like you were going to throw a plate at the annoying girl, you splash some water on your face. You hear the creak of the bathroom door opening, and you tense up, fearing it is the one person you don't want to see.

"Oh my god, y/n, you need to come back right now. I can't stand being near that wench for another second." Jennie whines, reaching to wrap her arms around your waist. With a sigh of relief, you turn around to crush her into a hug. 

"Girl, I might throw myself out of the balcony any second. She's being so weird with Jungkook!"  You whine back, causing the girls to nod. 

"I noticed. If she did that with Jimin, trust me she would be lost at sea." Jiyeon giggles, brushing my hair out of my face. You smile weakly at her, and the three of you link arms and return to the table. 

"There's our girls!" Taehyung announces, getting the table's attention. Jungkook immediately looking over, reaching an arm out toward you and pouting his lips. You grab his arm and lean down to give him a light kiss, and he smiles into it.

"You okay, baby?" He asks. You reply with a curt nod. He frowns, noticing your obvious mood shift, yet before he can ask you what's up, his attention is again on Arin as she continues talking about whatever the hell she is talking about. 

As the night went on, you started to feel increasingly uncomfortable. You noticed that Arin honestly did not care. She looked so pathetic, reaching over to slap a hand on his thigh as she laughed. Yet, you knew you looked even more pathetic just watching your boyfriend letting it happen. After dinner, you all headed back to the hotel. You and Jungkook return to your room, and you sigh in relief once your back hits the bed. Jungkook follows suit, the two of you lying silently and staring at the ceiling.  

"Hey," He says, effectively getting your attention.

"Hm?" You ask, looking over at him. He sighs, reaching his arm up to cup your cheek. 

"I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend time alone today." He whispers. Your heart melts at his large, apologetic eyes. You hum, turning your body to face him better.

"It's okay, baby. I can't say I'm not sad. It's been so long since we've been alone together." You pout, his thumb reaching down to tuck it back into place.

"We're alone now," He smiles, and you nod. He leans in, drapes a leg over your body to tug you closer, and kisses you. You two get lost in each other's touch, but a knock comes from the door before it can get any further. 

You pull apart, chests heaving, and Jungkook pats your thigh as he gets up to answer it. You don't even act surprised at who stands on the other side.

"Hey, Jungkook, can I talk to you for a second?" Arin asks.

"Uh, sure," Jungkook says, looking confused. He looks back at you, smiling apologetically, before following after her.

You wait a few minutes, but when they don't return, you can't ignore your racing heartbeat and decide to see what is happening. As you turn the corner, you face one of the worst sights you've ever seen. Arin kissing Jungkook. You wouldn't be surprised if a heart-shaped hole manifested under you because you were sure it fell out and sank to the first floor.

"Jungkook?" You whisper. The pair break apart, Arin gazing up at you with wide eyes, yet not as wide as your startled boyfriend's.

"No, Y/N, it's not what it looks like," Jungkook tries to explain. You hold a hand up to silence him. You didn't notice you were crying until tears started falling onto your cheeks. 

"I can't believe you would do this to me," You whimper out, shaking your head and turning around, running back to the room. You barricade yourself inside, holding your head as you sob your heart out.

You packed your bags that night and left the trip early, ignoring everyone's phone calls.

Back home, you were heartbroken. You try to wrap your head around why? He told you, no, he promised you he would never cheat on you. That was the last thing on his mind, or so you thought. You beat yourself up, how could you be so stupid? He was practically cheating on you that whole trip. That kiss was just the nail in the coffin. 

Unbeknownst to you, your girlfriends had let Arin have it. They called her all the names in the book, cementing whose side they were on. Jungkook wasn't free from their criticism either. They had read him to filth, which resulted in their boyfriends having to drag them away before they legitimately beheaded him. They decided to end their trip short, too. 

A day after you left, the group decided to all come to your apartment at once. They could see some unresolved explanations to be said, and if Jungkook's incessant crying was any indicator, maybe you had gotten it all wrong. One part of it was to have everyone explain their side uninterrupted. The other part was that if there wasn't some sort of mediator, they were sure you would throw your microwave at Jungkook and Arin's heads. 

It leads you all here. Silent, sitting in your living room. You stare at the wall, trying to avoid Jungkook's piercing gaze. You know he's fighting every bone in his body not to jump over the coffee table and hug you. He always hated when you cried. You almost feel bad, his red-rimmed eyes and distraught demeanor tugging at your heartstrings. You remind yourself that he cheated on you and doesn't deserve your pity. 

After a while, Arin clears her throat, getting everyone's attention. You set your pointed gaze on her, waiting to hear the stupidity about to come out of her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't help my feelings for Jungkook," Arin says, tears in her eyes. Oh? You were confused. Is she admitting that Jungkook didn't cheat on you? You look over at him, and he nods.

"She's right, Y/N. I would never cheat on you. Arin kissed me, and I would've pushed her away! I swear! But you walked in as soon as she kissed me. I didn't even have time to process what had just happened." He's pleading, inching closer to the edge of his seat, almost as if he would pounce on you at any second.

You sigh, sitting up. You look at Arin first. "Arin," you begin. "I've put up with your antics for as long as I can remember. I always knew you liked Jungkook, but I set my feelings aside because I know how important you two are to each other. But this? This was too far. You kissed my boyfriend, Arin. MY boyfriend. You had no right to do that."

She bows her head, muttering another small apology. You turn to Jungkook. "Jungkook. I communicated with you about my feelings regarding your friendship with her. You told me she wasn't a problem, that she wouldn't try anything. Look where that ended us up." He bites his lip, nodding his head in agreement.

You sigh again. "Arin, I forgive you. I know you and Jungkook have been friends for such a long time, and that maybe that manifested into love or whatever, but I need to make one thing clear. If I want my relationship to work out with Jungkook, I need you to stay away from us for the time being. Not for forever, but for a while." She hesitates before nodding, looking toward Jungkook, yet he doesn't even spare her a glance.

"I forgive you too," You say, looking at Jungkook. "But you need to agree with my proposition to make this work. If you can't do that, I really don't want to even bother giving you a second chance."

"Of course." He says almost instantly. You nod. 

The rest of your friends pipe up, apologizing for any part they may have played in the situation and promising to support you all in any way they could.

After everyone had left, you and Jungkookwere finally alone. The two of you sit down on the couch, and you let out a tense breath.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook says, taking your hand. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know," you reply, tears still in your eyes. "I just...I can't believe that happened."

"I promise you, Y/N, I love you and only you," Jungkook says, looking into your eyes. "Arin's feelings for me don't change that."

You took a deep breath and leaned into him. You knew he was right. Your love for each other was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, even something as painful as this.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you assured, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

You sat there for a while, just holding each other and talking about what had happened. The two of you agreed that you needed to be more mindful of boundaries in your friendships and that you would work together to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

As the night wore on, you decided to order food and spend the rest of the evening together. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were both determined to move past this and come out stronger on the other side.

Arin did eventually come back into your life many, many months later. Thankfully, you all had another conversation in which you reaffirmed your boundaries, and she graciously agreed to them. In the end, your love for each other only grew. You had weathered a brutal storm but came out on the other side more committed to each other than ever before.

[g0ry0re0]

"Two Sugars", Derek Danforth (The Beekeeper, 2024, Film) - Imagine

Description: You work in Derek's office at Danforth Enterprises. After the first few days, Derek finally notices you and makes his move. / Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

General Notes: 18+, MDNI!!, Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N), Lots Of Pet Names, Reader Insert, Shamelessly Flirting In A Professional Setting, Second Person POV, Based On The First Derek Scene In The Film, Use Of Curse Words, A Little Bit Of Abuse Of Power, Reader Has Some Internal Dialogue ("italics"), Some Suggestiveness At The End

Author's Note: For the first time, my title is not based on a song lol. The prompt is actually the same as the one I used for my C.AI bot for Derek, but I wanted to put my own spin on it. I'll be honest, this character may be a little altered to my liking to fit the prompt (and for my own selfish reasons), so if it's not exactly accurate, sorry! Also, props to my awesome sister (she asked me to say that), @hazeldastar for proofreading! Hope ya enjoy!

Word Count: 1,577 Words

You blink your eyes wearily, hands on both sides of your face as you're hunched over your desk. This was exhausting. Three days of straight paperwork and data entry, staring at the tiny printed words on paper and the glowing blue light of your desktop computer. It was getting to you. You needed a break. There's a small coffee bar just down the hallway... The idea sounds more and more appealing to you as you continue to ponder it. You haven't had a chance to utilize the whole office space yet. Besides, you were just going to take a small break and grab a quick drink, maybe a snack. That would certainly help. Right?

You sigh in defeat as you stand up, stretching a bit before making the small trip. You only briefly give a friendly wave at a handful of others in the office, not really knowing anyone well enough yet to stop for a full conversation (not that you wanted to at the moment anyway). You walk up to the barista with a tired smile.

"Hi," your voice sounds raspy.

You hadn't talked to anyone all morning. You clear your throat before continuing.

"Could I just get a small black coffee, please? With two sugars?" You hold up two fingers.

The barista responds with a classic "Customer Service Smile" and a nod before turning around to make just that.

You sigh again and lean against the counter, facing the center of the office, surveying your surroundings. You don't realize that you're starting to doze off until you can hear the sound of wheels on the concrete floor behind you, quickly snapping you out of your meditative state.

"Uh, let me get...flat white. Oat milk, of course. And, uh...extra shot of espresso."

Before the idea even pops into your head to turn around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, someone passes by you on their skateboard. They stop right in front of you, stepping off their board and kicking it up into their hands. They lean against the counter, facing you. Oh, fuck... You say in your head (hopefully), trying not to look as mortified as you feel. The goddamn CEO of the company was standing in front of you, a little too close for comfort, and smirking. You straighten your posture and nervously pull down your shirt.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, honey. You new?" He's looking you up and down, not even trying to be subtle.

"Uhh," you say breathlessly, feeling flustered. "Yes. I just started a few days ago. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Danforth."

"Oh, you don't have to call me that, please. Call me Derek." His smirk grows and he moves closer to you, making your breath hitch.

What is he wearing?

"So, what exactly do you do here, doll?"

His eyes bore straight into yours now, his corrupt gaze making you feel a bit humiliated and yet weirdly excited. His cheek was now resting on his hand as he leaned on the counter, his other hand still gripping the skateboard.

"I- I mostly do data entry, but I sort paperwork as well." You manage to spit out, your eyes avoiding his intense stare.

He uses the hand that was holding his head up to wave it in front of your face, bringing your eyes back to him.

"Stay with me, babe." He commands softly as he rests his hand back down on the counter, closer to yours this time.

That shouldn't have worked on you as well as it did. He continues.

"Sounds pretty boring, is that why you're standing out here? Is that what I'm paying you for?"

You swallow anxiously, "I'm on my break right now, and-" He holds his hand up to stop you.

"I was messing with you, sweetheart." He smiles, a bit more gentle this time.

What's this dude's goal here?

"I see you taking advantage of the coffee bar. What's a sweet thing like you normally get for a drink?"

Fuck it. You decide to play along, it's not like he was the worst-looking guy in the world. Quite the opposite in fact. You almost outwardly cringe at yourself.

"I normally get something a little more interesting, but I just went with a black coffee today. Two sugars." You held up two fingers again, smiling softly at him.

As if on queue, "Small black coffee, two sugars!" You turn around momentarily to grab your drink off the counter behind you.

Derek definitely did not let that opportunity pass him by, checking you out further, not even stopping when you turned back around to face him. Feeling the tiniest bit bolder, you move a little closer to him. He smirks knowingly and rests his eyes on yours once again. This cocky son of a bitch. He's barely done anything and you're already wrapped around his finger, and you both know it. He rests his hand on yours now, clearly feeling a lot more bold than you do. You hope that he doesn't notice how nervous you are. But he does, and he really likes it. Before you can say anything else, he speaks again.

"So, do you normally flirt with the CEO of the companies you work at?" He asks teasingly.

This motherfucker really likes playing games, doesn't he? You sigh and fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"No. And, you're the one flirting with me, if anything."

You try to move your hand, but he grasps it softly and runs his thumb over your palm.

"Am I?" He softly presses his thumb into the pad of yours, eyeing you provokingly.

There's a brief pause in the conversation, both of you sizing one another up. His hand was still gently messing with yours, and you didn't want to pull away, but you probably should. Before you could muster up the strength to remove yourself, something else caught both your attention.

"Flat white, oat milk, add shot!"

You and Derek glance back at the drink placed on the counter before turning back to each other. He lifts his hand, taking yours with it, and ghosts his lips over your knuckles.

"Wanna grab that for me, love?" He presses your fingers against his lips.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again, but turn around and grab his drink with your free hand. How could you say no to the CEO?

"Ya know, I do have a name." You add, sliding his drink over to him on the counter.

"Oh, I know. I just really like messing with you." He quips, finally releasing your hand and grabbing his drink, taking a sip.

At least he admits it.

"So, you are flirting with me?" You mirror him now, taking a sip of your drink as well.

"Maybe," he shrugs. "Is it working?"

"Maybe."

Another lull in the conversation, eye contact between you two never wavering.

"Well, if you're gonna continue flirting with me, you could at least stick to one pet name. Instead of using every single one in the book." You tease.

"I would, I just haven't found one that fits you yet." He watches as you take another sip of your coffee and his eyes light up, only slightly, as he seemingly thinks of something. "How about 'sugar'?"

You laugh. Derek tries not to show how achieved he feels, but the smug grin on his face gives him away. He's already won, and you both know it. What a dick.

"A little cheesy, but I'll take it." You take another sip of your drink and he mirrors you, another pause.

Both of you stare at one another for a little too long, either in admiration or curiosity. The silence wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but it wasn't particularly peaceful either. There was tension, definitely reciprocated, but also definitely not something that should happen at work. Especially not with your boss. You continue to look at him for a few moments, pondering the gravity of your situation before you think about what time it is. You snap out of your daze for the second time that day and grab your phone out of your pocket, glance at the screen. Shit...

"I'm sorry, Mr. Danfor-"

"Derek." He corrects.

"Derek," you say, unsure. "I have to get back to work. My break just ended."

"Sounds like a good idea, sugar." He smirks again, putting emphasis on the nickname he gave you.

Before you can walk past him, he holds his skateboard out to stop you. You look at him in confusion.

"How about I pick you up tonight? I think we could have a great time together," he comments, cocking his brow at the thought. "Maybe over coffee?"

You look around nervously, weighing your options. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn't spare it a glance, still looking at you.

"Just coffee?" You inquire, almost desperately.

"Sure." He looks you up and down again.

You don't believe him. He's definitely lying. But you think you're willing to take the risk anyway.

You give in.

"Alright. Coffee sounds good." You give him another soft smile.

Yeah, he definitely won. But when doesn't Derek Danforth get what he wants?

"I'll send a car for you. Black coffee, right?" He says with a glint in his eyes, taking his phone out of his pocket.

He places his skateboard on the ground.

"Right." You confirm, your smile growing wider.

"Two sugars?" He holds up two fingers.

"Two sugars."

Part 2? 👀

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: mockingjaysnakes on tumblr

[salith-skies]

Kiwi 🥝

#thebadbatch Crosshair x f!Reader | not established relationship, post Tantis, season 3 spoilers(?), SFW | 547 words

When Hunter and Wrecker returned to Pabu with their younger sister and brother, I had no idea that my heart would feel… uneasy. I kept my distance. I watched him practice at the rocks by the water from afar. Omega was normally seen by his side, offering her help although he never seemed to accept it willingly. Hunter and Wrecker never too far behind either. I supposed they didn’t feel at ease with their brother yet, too.

At some point, the repetitive practice compelled me to bring out my brushes and paint from the back of my closet. I used a small canvas, starting out with a pencil sketch then a light base of colors. As I worked, my mind started to question my actions. Why am I painting this man? I’ve never even spoken to him, barely made eye contact.

I could not come up with an answer reasonable enough to satiate my brain, but I continued to paint. The more I painted, the more I could feel my heartbeat in my palms. The man made me nervous and I was unsure if it was a good kind of nervous. He always had a scowl on his face, anxiously bitting that poor end of the toothpick. He seemed… bitter. Not personable.

I felt someone next to me and I turn my head to see Lyana peeking at my painting.

“Afternoon.” I got her attention and she smiled.

“I like your painting.” Her smile shifted to a smirk. “Are you going to give it to him?”

I tilted my head and looked between my painting and the clone. “Maybe,” I said, chewing on the inside of my bottom lip. I turned to look back at Lyana. “So what’s new with you?”

Lyana presented a small basket. Inside were kiwis. “The firsts of the season. My dad asked me to bring you some.” I took the basket from her and thanked her. “See you around, y/n.”

She left and I looked at the kiwis. I never did like them much before. They were always bitter and never sweet enough. But I grew to enjoy them.

Over the course of three days, adding details to the painting, I had finally run into the man. The mayor invited the clones and I to dinner. My heart paused two beats when I made eye contact with him. I still stood and greeted each of them with a smile.

The dinner table had light conversation. Lyana asked Omega what Tantis was like and despite her father’s awkward reprimand Omega answered. I looked over at Crosshair, as his brothers introduced him as, as Omega spoke knowing he was there too. His temperament changed when Tantis was brought up, there was a shakiness to his hands and his eyes seemed glossed over.

I looked at my plate and picked up a kiwi slice with my fork and put it on his plate. His focus shifted to me. I did not say anything, but I watched him eat it. His expression was like mine when I was a child, trying them for the first time. It was bitter.

Perhaps that was why I was hesitant about him. I thought he would be bitter like a kiwi. Then again, I might grow to like him, too.

[manari-archives]

skinny dipping | DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x Reader

warnings: arguments

word count: 1.4k

note: this is one of my favorite songs on the album. again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines mentioned. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

The cosy coffee shop hummed with gentle clicks of porcelain cups and the soft murmur of conversation. You sat at a corner table, engrossed by your phone, completely oblivious to the world around you. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, offering a comforting embrace in the bustling ambience.

Lost in your thought, Amidst the chaos of conversation and coffee machines, a barista’s voice broke through the noise, calling out an order. “oat milk latte for Daniel” he called out, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

instinctively, you glanced up from your phone, your eyes scanning the café in search of the source of your childhood memories. Surely it couldn’t be him. the chances are too slim, too improbable. Yet there he was in all his glory-Daniel Ricciardo, the man who once held your heart.

Your eyes locked, a mixture of surprise, nostalgia and something deeper flickered across his face. He approached you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “hi” he said, his voice warm and filled with vulnerability.

You returned his greeting, your heart fluttering with a mix of emotions. “hi, how are you?” you replied, your voice wavered with a hint of nerves.

A wave of relief washed over you as Daniel mirrored your smile. “I’m good,” he said. “how’s your family? how’s your sister?” he asked his words carrying the weight of shared memories and genuine care.

His questions caught you off guard, the fact that he still remembered details of your life after all these years sent a jolt through your heart. “ they’re doing well,” you replied. “my sister is married now, she expecting her first child.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up with excitement. “that’s wonderful to hear!” he said. “please send her my regards”

For a few moments, you engaged in nonsensical chatter, catching up on superficial aspects of your lives. But beneath the surface, the unspoken questions lingered. It was as if time had rewound, and you were transported back to the days of your youth when your love bloomed amid the echoes of engines and the scent of gasoline.

As the café grew quieter, Daniel leaned forward, his gaze steady and sincere. “well, this was really nice” he confessed, a spark of vulnerability lighting up his eyes. “maybe we should do this on purpose sometimes”

A mixture of hope and apprehension swirled within you. The mere suggestion of intentionally meeting again ignited a fire within your heart, rekindling memories that once were long buried. Was it possible to reconcile the love you once had with the realities of your lives now?

He noticed your hesitation, a subtle understanding passing between you. with a tender smile, he took a leap of faith. “remember that restaurant we used to go to?” he asked.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over you, threatening to pull you under its bittersweet tide. You look into his eyes, your voice barely above a whisper. “ won’t that be too nostalgic?” you asked with a hint of apprehension.

Daniel’s gaze never wavered, his determination shining through. “maybe,” he conceded, “buts let’s do it anyway. we won’t sit at our old table I promise.”

It was as if the floodgates of emotion you buried years ago had just burst open. A myriad of thoughts surges through you-fear, longing, and a tiny glimmer of hope. You exchanged glances, and in that unspoken understanding, you both knew that revisiting the past was an opportunity to confront the ghosts that still lingered between you.

Days later, you found yourselves outside the familiar restaurant. Its warm glow spilt out the sidewalk. with a deep breath, you stepped inside, the scent of nostalgia hanging in the air.

The ambience has changed, yet traces of your memories still clung to the walls. You were led to a table far removed from the one that had once witnessed your whispers of affection and youthful dreams. It was a symbolic gesture, a promise to forge new memories while acknowledging the ghosts of the past.

As you settled into your seats, a silence settled between you-a poignant reminder of the words left unspoken. Amid the nostalgic atmosphere, conversation flowed freely, carrying us through a labyrinth of emotions. You spoke of your journeys, the triumphs and the hardships that had shaped you into the people you had become.

With each passing moment, it became evident how much the two of you had changed. Daniel had evolved into a renowned f1 driver and you had found your path, carving out a life separate from the racing world that had once consumed the both of you.

Yet beneath the surface, you were still the scared little kids who had arguments in his garage, that stemmed from the demands of Daniel’s growing career, which consumed more and more of his time. arguments became frequent and the once unbreakable bond between you was strained under the weight of unspoken frustrations.

there were nights filled with tear-stained pillows and whispered doubts. you questioned whether you could keep up with the demands of his world, whether you could handle the constant separation and the unrelenting spotlight.

the arguments often revolved around the sacrifices you had made for each other, the compromises that weighed heavily on your hearts. you resented the fact that your dreams had taken a backseat, and you struggled to find your path amidst the shadows cast by Daniel’s success.

the final argument, the one that shattered the fragile threads of your relationship, echoed through the garage. words were exchanged, wounds inflicted and in that moment of frustration, Daniel made a choice-a choice that tore you apart. With a heavy heart and a determination that mirrored the unwavering focus he displayed on the racetrack, he chose his career, leaving behind the shattered remnants of your once unbreakable bond.

Between bites and sips, you danced around the ghosts of your past, tiptoeing on the delicate thread that connected you. Each word carried weight, each silence punctuated by the weight of unspoken truths. And yet, you forged ahead, daring to confront the past head-on, determined to find closure.

Amidst the nostalgic ambience of the restaurant, you spoke of the arguments—the fiery clashes fuelled by our unwavering passion and the fear that had consumed you both. You acknowledged the pain and the hurt, but also the love that had once bound you together.

As the evening progressed, the restaurant's ambience buzzed with the laughter and conversations of other patrons. But in the midst of it all, Daniel and you sat in a bubble of shared history and unspoken truths. you exchanged glances, and in those stolen moments, you saw the reflections of two individuals who had dared to chase their dreams, defying the odds stacked against them.

As the night began to wane, and the dessert arrived at your table, you reached an unspoken conclusion. The restaurant served as a time capsule, transporting you back to a bygone era. It was a poignant reminder of the transformative power of time and the journeys you had embarked upon.

With a final toast, we bid the restaurant farewell, stepping out into the cool night air. We stood on the sidewalk, our gazes fixed on the twinkling stars above, and I knew the time had come to part ways once again.

We embraced, a mixture of sadness, longing, and a touch of resignation. "Until next time," I whispered, my voice filled with a promise to cherish the memories we had created together.

Daniel returned the embrace, his voice filled with warmth. "Until next time," he echoed, a subtle smile played on Daniel's lips. "You know," he said, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and hope, "it would be nice to do this again sometime."

You met his gaze, a flicker of anticipation dancing in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, your voice carrying a quiet conviction, "it would be.”

With that simple exchange, we acknowledged the possibility of a future that held the potential for rekindling what was once lost. The unspoken promise hung in the air, a gentle invitation to explore the depths of your connection once more. And just like that, you went your separate ways, carried by the winds of destiny.

But this time, the door remained open, inviting you to explore the potential of what could be a second chance at love, guided by the memories of our past and the hope for a future where your lives might intertwine once again.