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dilly-oh · 3 years

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Trashy Romance Novel

“Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

He stopped.

The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked.

Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before-

The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

“...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top.

“You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

“You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

“Excuse me, WHAT-”

“Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

“My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

“Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

“Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.”

“...May I ask why?”

“Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

“I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah they definitely did-”

“Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it.

“...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-”

“Okay how did you really break it?”

“Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

“Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach.

Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door.

“I need to go.”

“Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him.

Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

“Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

“What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage.

“Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

“Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled.

“You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

“Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

“The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

“Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously.

“Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

“Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

“So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

“Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

“You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began.

“He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

“Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

“Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

“You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

“I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

Iruka paused, considering.

“I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

“That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

“Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated.

“Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

“I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff.

“And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

“I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation.

He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

Including the steamy bits.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #hospital au #crappy romance novels #all the cliches

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wisherbysharlight · 4 years

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My God if I could only say, I'm holding every breath for you

Description: Patton Hart has been pining for his best friend's twin brother and his boyfriends for as long as he can remember. Word Count: 3067 Ships: Patton/Remus/Janus/Virgil, background Logince, established Remus/Janus/Virgil Warnings: Remus being Remus, twins squabbling AO3 This is a gift fic for @sunshineandteddybears for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. The “summer romance” piece kinda got away from me, but this is definitely found family! I hope you enjoy!

Patton was wiping down the counters, about 15 minutes after closing, sunset shining through the windows as he hummed along to the radio, a sense of peace radiating through the store.

Of course, that’s when chaos erupted.

“Pattycakes, you gotta save me!” Remus cried as he threw the door open so roughly the windchimes actually smacked against the window above the door before falling back down and jingling merrily to announce his presence. He ran behind the counter with no hesitation, gripping onto Patton’s waist. (Patton only shivered because of the burst of adrenaline. That was the only reason. No other possibilities. Nope.) Remus angled them both towards the doorway just as Roman came bursting in with the same amount of urgency, fire in his eyes and shirt dripping wet and seemingly tinted a particularly garish shade of greenish-brown.

“Remus, you can’t hide behind Patton forever, you bastard!” he seethed, and Logan, Janus, and Virgil came through the door behind him, much more calm, almost to the point where Patton would call them bemused. Logan took a seat at one of the small tables along the wall, pulling out his phone with a very evident intention to simply wait the whole debacle out, while Janus and Virgil both leaned up against the glass case in front of Patton. “Get out here and face me, you coward!” Roman bellowed again, clearly not giving up anytime soon.

Patton grabbed an empty paper towel roll from next to him and turned at the waist to whack Remus in the head with it, “Remus you cannot use me as a human shield, go answer for your crimes.” “Kinky. I’d much rather have you issue my punishment,” Remus joked with an eyebrow wiggle, then cackled when Patton made a strangled noise and shoved him back to the other side of the counter. However, as soon as he was in range, Roman grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a headlock and his laughter turned swiftly into a shriek of “Oh shit!”

They were 12 years old, tearing through the woods in a dual-friend-group game of manhunt the summer before 7th grade. Virgil was hot on everyone’s heels and adrenaline was coursing through their veins. Patton leapt over a log and turned a corner, hunting for a good place to hide.

He heard a curse of “Oh shit!” echo through the woods before the sound of three branches breaking in succession, a huge crash, and a subsequent groan. He quickly pivoted and went sprinting back towards the house, and the sound, easily finding Remus splayed across the forest floor even in the dim light of the moon.

“Why would you climb a tree, silly goose? Don’t you know the branches are weak that high? Scared me half to death!” he chided as he fell to his knees beside him, already pulling band-aids out of his wallet in his pocket.

Remus grinned impishly up at him, and Patton felt his breath catch in his throat, fumbling with the wallet briefly in a way he prayed the other boy didn’t notice. “What’s a lil fear in the face of a bunch of excitement, Patty?” he crooned, and Patton shoved a handful of band-aids at him with little delicacy in his haste to move past the tease. “Besides, I have the best nurse in the world to patch me up when my fun does go south, apparently.”

Patton flushed and turned away, positive Remus could tell even in the weak light, but he couldn’t keep the earnestness out of his voice, “I’ll always patch you up, Ree. Promise.”

Remus didn’t get a chance to respond before Virgil burst through the bushes and tapped them both on the shoulder to get them out and a loud, extended debate began about the validity of the “injury time out”.

Janus leaned on the counter in front of Patton, jolting him out of his reverie. He pointed at the menu, with three shiny new additions at the bottom, “You finally manage to find a flavor sweeter than you, sugar?”

Virgil shoved him out of the way with an eye roll and a fond grin, thankfully distracting from how Patton felt his cheeks would melt the freezers. “He can’t stop flirting even for two seconds, I swear.”

Janus gasped dramatically, swooning against the counter and batting his eyes at Virgil like a starlet in an old black and white, “Maybe if you and Remus gave me the attention I deserve I wouldn’t need to hunt it down in beautiful, endearing ice cream shop owners.”

Remus snorted despite the way he was currently trying to claw his way out of his brother’s hold while being noogied like they were still teenagers and not fully grown and employed adults, “We could give you all the attention in the world, Janny, it would never stop you from flirting with Patton.”

Janus sniffed derisively at them, then cocked his head to the side as the song changed and smiled softly, “Hey, I know this song.”

Patton smiled brightly back, “Yeah of course, have it on all the playlists for the shop!”

“Simp!” Remus called over just as brightly, and Patton glared back at him, assuming it was aimed at him.

“Ok, you look miserable,” Janus said, making Patton jump from where he was staring down at his water glass watching the liquid swirl around the glass as he moved it in little circles and maybe lamenting his singledom a little bit in the face of a dance floor full of sappy teenagers in fancy clothes enjoying the crisp June night and each other as their last hurrah before graduation.

Patton plastered on a smile, “Oh Jan, I am perfectly hap-”

Janus arched a brow at him, tsking lightly and just loud enough for Patton to hear and stop speaking. “Don’t try to lie to me, I know what you look like when you are actually happy, Patton. And also you’re a god-awful liar.”

“...yeah ok. I’m a little bit lonely, maybe, with Ro and Lo gettin their dance on for the romantic stuff. But I’m not mad, they’re in love, and I told them to go hang on their own. We’ll hang out at the beach house after!” He couldn’t help but glance at the dance floor, where Logan was leading Roman in a waltz that was perfectly on time with the music, lost in their own little world.

“Well Ree and V bailed for the beach early. Not exactly their style of music or dancing, or my vibe to make them do something they don’t enjoy just to get my feet stepped on. Why don’t we be miserable together?” The song changed, to a song with a more Latin-inspired beat that Patton knew only one of every 10 words to, and Janus smirked, “Maybe you and I can even make the most of it and I can score a salsa partner.” Janus ended his proposition with an exaggerated wink and bow, and Patton took his offered hand with a genuine grin.

Janus didn’t miss a beat, switching eye contact to Roman on a dime, “Hey, did you know Remus was the one who’s been screwing with your guitar’s tuning?”

“NONONO HE’S LYING,” Remus cried as Roman tightened his hold and doubled down on his attack, this time poking at his ribs and making Remus shriek in laughter.

As Janus watched Roman wrestle Remus down to the floor of the shop, clearly satisfied with the reaction he managed to get, Virgil nudged him over with his hip to take his place leaning across the counter and whisper conspiratorially, “I bet it was actually Logan. Bastard can get away with murder, I just know it.”

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, with Virgil’s playful smile and dancing eyes across from him, so open and trusting in a way he never was unless it was just the group of them. He smirked a bit, nibbled at his lip in consideration, then leaned in to say in an equally conspiratorial style, “Logan’s only involved to see how long it’ll be before anyone catches on. My record stands.”

“You are a trickster Patton Hart,” Virgil gasped in mock-scandal. He wagged his finger with his hand on his hip in a not-half-bad impression of Patton during a lecture, though he was unable to match his Patton-ted Disappointed Frown while he was grinning, “I’d never expect my partner in crime to be doing something like this without telling me, shame on you. You know I always have your back.”

It was their last weekend of freedom before they started high school, and as per usual both twins had both their friends sleeping over. Patton woke before Logan and Roman, also as per usual, and snuck out of Roman’s room down to the kitchen, only to jolt as he found the light already on and Virgil sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Whatcha doin?” Virgil asked, legs kicking in the air in front of the cabinets lazily.

“Gonna try to make pancakes! I’m positive I won’t burn them this time, I just know it,” Patton enthused, then squinted suspiciously at Virgil, “What’re you doing?”

“Oh just hanging around, keeping an eye out in case anyone tries to burn the house down again so I can help out. Figured they might need a partner in arson crime, ya know, and I could let them know I’ve got their back,” Virgil teased, nudging Patton’s leg with a sock clad foot. He looked so precious with his sleep mussed hair and eyeliner from the night before smudged under his eyes that Patton couldn’t even bring himself to argue that he really didn’t need a babysitter. Honestly, he couldn’t even begin to pretend he didn’t want the excuse to spend more time with him.

The twins’ argument grew more heated, finally managing to distract Patton from where he was a bit lost in the way Virgil’s eyes lit up when he was amused.

“You fucked up one of my favorite shirts!” Roman screeched as he attempted to give his brother a wet willy.

“You put red koolaid in my shampoo two weeks ago, you baby!” Remus cried back, shoving at his shoulder to try to get him off, and succeeding rolling them only for Roman to roll them straight back.

“I know you were the one who put my script out of order,” Roman fired back.

“You should have been off book anyway! And you broke bro code and told Virgil I was the one who deleted his X-Files off the DVR. You are just as bad as me.”

“You gave mom’s computer a porn virus and blamed it on me!” Roman protested, and everyone else seemed to simultaneously sigh as they descended into their usual back and forth of dredged-up pettiness.

“Oh you're still - you squashed my bug collection.”

“You left me stranded in the yard after Remy’s homecoming party senior year.”

“That was absolutely justified, you made me listen to you wax poetic about Logan’s fucking lips for 3 hours.”

“You made me listen to you wax poetic about Patton’s EVERYTHING for 13 YEARS”

Everyone in the shop simultaneously went silent in a blink of an eye. Virgil went white as a sheet and swung to look at the twins with wide eyes, Janus gripped the counter white-knuckled and looked at Patton with a similarly stunned expression, and Remus turned nearly as red as the sash on Roman’s favorite Prince Charming costume. He shoved Roman off of him for real, a more severe growl to his voice as he seemed to realize there was no way to play it cool, “You are such a fucking dick!”

Roman stammered for a moment, clearly trying to digest the change in tone and the weight of what he’d said, before waving his arms above his head in apparent bafflement, “It’s not like he didn’t know you all were into him!”

“Roman,” Logan spoke up suddenly, gesturing at Patton and what Patton knew had to be a completely shell-shocked expression.

Roman looked up and went just as wide-eyed as the others, “Pat… did... did you not know?”

“...all of you?” Patton asked, then winced as his voice cracked in shock. He watched Virgil flinch and seem to retreat into his hoodie out of the corner of his eye, and Janus’ face smoothed over into a perfect mask of calm in the blink of an eye. He felt his heart break just a little bit at the disappointment in both of their eyes at what he was sure they saw as a rejection.

Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and yanked him away roughly, though Roman followed easily, “You all clearly need to communicate. I will handle this one.”

“Don’t wanna know about you handling my brother, poindexter,” Remus joked hollowly, sounding almost like it was a reflex with none of his usual cackle behind it.

Logan rolled eyes and headed out the door, tugging behind him a Roman who was fervently whispering, just barely audibly, “He didn't know, how did he not know,” to himself over and over again.

There’s silence in the shop for a while, just the sound of the radio faintly playing over the loudspeakers echoing off the walls as they all just stare at each other, not knowing how to start. Then Janus took a deep breath and spoke first, “Patton, I refuse to speak for these two clowns, but I will absolutely tell you that I, at the very least, have had feelings for you for many years, feelings which i was unaware I was not making perfectly clear, or that there was a chance of any sort of reciprocation.”

“Around 7 years for me, give or take. That first morning we made pancakes together,” Virgil added quietly, fiddling with the zipper on his sleeve.

Remus averted his gaze, looking nervous in the way Patton had only seen the day before he confessed to Virgil and Janus in high school, and admitted in the quietest voice Patton’d ever heard him use, “I don’t know exactly when, Pattycakes. You’ve always been there and as far as I’m concerned I’ve loved you just as long. And-and I just assumed it wasn’t returned.”

Patton swallowed thickly, trying to push back tears because he knew these boys and knew they would take them for disappointment rather than the joy they were. He dove at Remus first, vaulting the counter the way he always scolded Roman against and sliding to his knees next to the other man on the floor before crushing him in a hug. He flailed back at Janus and Virgil with one hand to pull them in as well, “Come here, all of you, we’ve lost so much valuable cuddle time!”

Patton was pretty sure Janus broke the sound barrier with how quickly he was plastered to his side and burying his face in his hair, and Virgil wasn’t far behind, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face in the crease of his neck and shoulder. Patton took that moment to be a bit daring himself and press a kiss to the corner of Remus’ lips, then giggled brightly when Remus grabbed hold of his cardigan and used it to pull him back in to kiss him full on the mouth with just as much passion and impulsiveness and laughter as Patton had always imagined. His mustache tickled Patton’s nose a bit but he leaned into it, humming happily in the back of his throat and feeling like a puzzle piece clicked into place.

Virgil only gave them a minute before he untucked his face from Patton’s neck and grouched that he wanted a turn. Remus let Patton go with a very put-upon sigh that didn’t match his playful grin, flicking Virgil on the nose lightly. “You gotta give him his kisses or he’ll never shut the fuck up,” he fake-whispered.

Patton grinned and turned readily to Virgil, and his lips met Patton’s in a much gentler dance. His kiss was no less deep or passionate for its caution, and his hands cupped his face like he feared Patton would float away if he didn’t hold tight. His fingers curled and twitched upwards like they wanted to bury themselves in his hair but didn’t want to overstep, so Patton took the initiative to grip the back of his neck and tilt his own head to encourage Virgil to do what he wished.

Janus was more patient, waiting for them to part for breath a few minutes later before taking hold of Patton’s chin from Virgil without a word and gently but firmly turning Patton towards him. Janus’ kiss could only be described as a caress, light and teasing and peppered with soft nips to his bottom lip before building up to something more solid. His warm hands rubbed calmingly up and down Patton’s spine and over his shoulders like he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to touch first.

Remus soon demanded he get another shot, then Virgil wanted another, then Janus again, leaving Patton so beyond cloud 9 he could barely think any more. They spent at least 20 minutes there on the floor, lost in each other, rotating kisses that were long overdue, letting their actions make the confessions their words hid from for years, not daring to move and break the spell of the moment.

Then a camera shutter sounded, paired with a bright flash of light that made them all jolt and look up in surprise.

“I said communicate you know, not make out on the floor,” Logan sighed, digging through his wallet to pull a 20 out to hand to Roman, who was grinning victoriously.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, but I had to do something and I told Logan the “accidental slip” would work,” Roman said as he pressed a triumphant kiss to Logan’s cheek and pocketed the 20, “But you have to admit it was a pretty great performance on my part.”

“Can’t believe I was betrayed by my best friends, I don’t know whether I owe you a scolding or a fruit basket,” Patton lamented playfully, cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. Janus ruined what little remained of the facade even more as he shifted slightly and pulled him into his lap and Patton clung tight to Virgil and Remus’ hands, with no intention of disconnecting any time soon.

#IntruAnaMoCeit #patton/dark sides #patton/remus/janus/virgil #polyamsanders #ts fic #i had no idea how to tag this #all sides #remus mention

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thenovelartist · 3 years

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A Blanc Slate, Chapter 3

7. Secrets

Oh how the dirty laundry was hung out to dry in the week after the Agreste Mansion fire.

Apparently, the corpse of Gabriel Agreste’s wife was kept preserved underneath the mansion. Which, of course, brought on all the questions of how and why she was there, followed by questions pertaining to Gabriel Agreste’s sanity and even more questions as to why he did it.

Unfortunately, the only person who knew was dead.

Early reports said that it was likely he suffocated in the fire. However, the coroner’s report came out recently saying that there was evidence of an altercation: a fractured arm, a few broken ribs, and a cracked skull. Due to the autopsy report, it was suspected Gabriel was dead before the fire broke out. However, with the crime scene as they knew it had been burned to the ground, along with any clues that could have lead to a more solid answer.

Marinette, Alya, and Nino had done everything they could to reach out to Adrien, but he refused. “Sorry, I just need some time,” was his go-to excuse. His other being, “I’m not feeling great.”

Nino hated it, but he still wanted to be a bro and respect Adrien’s wishes. Alya would have had no problem going over, busting down the door, and forcing a check-in, but Nino kept his girlfriend in check.

Egged on by Alya behind the scenes, Marinette decided that she was going to do that.

Well… maybe minus the “breaking down the door” part. She’d just insistently knock.

With a bag full of baked goods and a container of soup, she headed over. She’d been experimenting with this soup for his birthday, trying to replicate a recipe from his favorite café to surprise him with. But she thought now would be a good time to share it with him. Chat had even given it a good mark in his own way, so she was sure it would make Adrien happy.

Upon arriving at his new place—the address had been the one thing she’d been able to drag out of Nino—she knocked a couple times before waiting. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again. If he didn’t answer after this one, she’d give him a call.

However, she heard the lock on the door click and put on her best smile. “Hey, Adri—Oh, my gosh, how’d you get that black eye?!”

The expression he gave her clearly stated he didn’t want to talk about it while also regretting worrying her. “Don’t tell Nino. Or Alya. Please.”

“What happened, though!”

His lips pursed, curling downwards at the edges. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nearly stamped her foot on the ground because that made two of the most important men in her life who refused to let her in. However, she couldn’t force anything. Instead, she asked, “Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, but words seemed to catch in his throat for a moment. “I will be.”

“Adrien.”

With a sigh, he reached out to pat her head. “I appreciate that you care, Marinette,” he began. “But really, don’t worry about it, okay?”

She didn’t want to give him time. She wanted to fix it. She wanted to be able to do something, anything, for her boys. But she couldn’t if they kept keeping secrets like this.

With a sigh, she relented, unable to do anything else. “Okay.”

He stroked her hair, and if she wasn’t so damn worried, her heart might have fluttered at the action. “Thank you,” he said before pulling his hand away. “So, was that the only reason you came by? To check in on me?”

“It was either me or Alya.”

His smile was sheepish. “I’d rather have you. Alya scares me.”

His grin seemed weary, but it was still enough to put Marinette at ease and a smile on her own face. “She’s pretty pissed. Nino’s also really worried about you. Maybe you should give him a call.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and only then did she realize the hand he’d been so good at hiding behind the door this whole time was wrapped heavily in bandages

“Adrien!”

He jumped at her voice, taking a step back, but Marinette was quick. She grabbed his arm before he could hide it again. “How’d you get this? Oh, wait, ‘you don’t want to talk about it’?”

He groaned. “I got into a little argument with my dad last week, came home and hit the wall. I don’t think I broke anything, but it still hurts.”

Marinette sighed. “Damn it, Adrien. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have been there to support you.”

Adrien turned his head away, refusing to look at her. “I… I just needed some time alone, okay? There was a lot on my mind. Please, just drop it.”

“Okay,” she caved. He was already talking with her now, as opposed to pushing her away again, so she would meet him halfway and stop arguing. “Do you want a croissant? Maybe some soup? Or you’ve got a sweet tooth. Maybe a cookie?”

Adrien looked somewhat surprised by the change of subject, but soon, he relaxed in relief. “I wouldn’t mind a cookie.”

She gave him a smile, one she had to force a bit to be brighter than it was. “Okay. I thought you would.”

8. Princess and Knight

The knock on her balcony door could only be one person.

Rather, one cat.

With a grin, Marinette rushed to answer her trap door. “Chat Noir. How nice of you to come see me.”

He looked rather stoic. “I’m not ‘Noir’ anymore.”

“You’ll always be Chat Noir,” she gently countered. “You just happen to look a little different at the moment.”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to continue their conversation. He then handed the bag in his hand over to her. “Here. The clothes you leant me. Washed and clean. And a little extra ‘thank you’ gift for your kindness before.”

“Oh,” she said, looking at the bag. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Chat just shrugged.

Looking at the bag, Marinette hesitated to take it. She had wondered if Chat would appear before her or if he’d just drop the bag and run. Now, she feared he’d bolt the moment she took the bag from his hand, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Impulsively, she reached past the bag to grab hold of his wrist. “Come inside for a minute. Let me get you some cookies for the road.”

His brow scrunched together, showing his hesitancy.

She shot him her best smile, going as far as batting her eyes at him, a technique her friends had forced her to learn a few years ago in an attempt to get Adrien’s attention. “Please, Chat? I’m sure you’d like a treat?”

He sighed. “Thank you, princess, but I’ll decline.”

“Aww, really? I can’t convince you to stay a moment?”

“No.”

“Wow. That was cold.”

Chat stood, trying to remove her hand from his, and though he was trying to be firm, he wasn’t being overly forceful. “I came to thank you, not to linger on your kindness any more.”

“But what if I want you to linger in my kindness.”

He scoffed. “Why would you bother?”

“Because I care about you?”

“You barely know me.”

Oh, kitty, I know you better than you could fathom. “So?”

“So, I took advantage of your kindness once—”

“Do it again.”

The words that came so easily out of her mouth had clearly startled him. Frankly, they surprised her a little, too, but those words also allowed her a moment to crawl fully out of the hatch and stand right before him. “I don’t mind. In fact, I want to.”

Chat looked at her, exhaustion lingering behind the stoniness in his eyes. “Princess, you’re killing me here.”

She tightened her grip, leaning closer. “Good. Maybe I can offer you a little break away from your world.”

“Who said I needed one?”

“You’re still white, and you’re not in a signature smile. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”

His brow furrowed, eyes hardening, yet he didn’t pull away.

And she wasn’t going to surrender, either.

The stare down lasted a good many seconds, neither moving or backing down.

“Are you trying to seduce me, princess?” he eventually asked, the slightest edge of teasing in his tone while the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Her heart could soar at the sight. “So what if I am?”

He flashed her a fake roguish grin, leaning closer in what she quickly realized was an attempt to coax her backwards. “I’d say there’s only room for one flirt in this town, and it sure won’t be you.”

She stood her ground, knowing that if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall right through her trapdoor. Which was likely his plan and why he’d just started flirting. She knew him too well by now to know his flirting was a cover-up. Always had been, and always would be.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t also wreck her heart when he stopped the flirting and pulled a genuine romantic gesture. It always wrecked her heart when he stood with his heart bared to her. And maybe over time, those gestures built up love for him in her own heart. And maybe that’s why she stood here so adamantly now, unwilling to let him go.

“Oh?” she flirted back, trying to channel her ‘inner Chat’. “How would you know? Maybe I’m better.”

“I doubt that. This cat has worked hard and purr-fecting his technique to make the ladies swoon.”

She hummed. “You pull out all the stops on Ladybug, don’t you?”

It was as though she’d doused him with cold water, because all teasing disappeared in an instant.

Her regret level was high, but at the same time, she wasn’t even sure what she’d said to change the mood so fast. “Chat?”

He sighed, pulling away and shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” she countered.

“It is,” he firmly stated. “And don’t think otherwise.”

Biting her lip, Marinette wracked her brain for how to possibly coerce him into talking. “Something wrong with Ladybug?” she asked, reaching out to grab his other hand. “Because I haven’t see—”

“Ahh!”

In a flash, Chat ripped both his hands from hers and cradled his left hand close to his chest.

Her gut sank. “You’re hurt?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

His ears sank in shame for a moment. “Let it go, Marinette,” he snipped, already taking steps backwards and away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. What happ—”

“Does it get tiring?”

His eyes took on a hard edge to them, and that was the moment she knew she screwed up. “What?”

“Trying to weasel into my business,” he challenged.

“How was I weaseling?”

“I’m a grown man. I don’t need you mothering me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t if you weren’t hurt.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Marinette regretted it. Instead, her consequence was watching Chat’s expression harden, eyes glinting like the edge of a knife.

“Who do you think you are?”

She flinched at the harshness of his tone.

“You’re not Ladybug,” he hissed. “We barely know each other. Why are you so damn worked up over me getting hurt?”

Because I am your lady, dammit! But she couldn’t say that. And without that, she wasn’t fully sure what to say. “Can’t I care about you at all without my motives being questioned?”

“I don’t need your help, Marinette!” he shouted. “So, stop trying to fix things and let me take care of my own business! You don’t have any idea what I’m facing—"

“Of course I don’t! You know why?” Marinette felt something snap in her at his words, and her own feelings came tumbling out before she could stop them. “Because you’re a knight with a martyr complex who thinks he has to bear the weight of the world alone on his own shoulders. I’m no princess, Chat, and neither is Ladybug. So why is it impossible for you to let either of us help you? Do you not trust Ladybug to help you? Do you think she’s incapable? Do you hate working with her that much?”

“I love her more than you could ever imagine!” he shouted, shocking her so badly she had to take a step back to steady herself. “She is incredibly strong and capable, and don’t you dare do her the injustice of stating otherwise. But that is exactly why I’m keeping her out of this. What I’m facing is personal, and it’s something I need to do on my own. You wouldn’t understand and don’t even try to. You’re an outsider here, Marinette. Stop trying to pretend you’re the superhero here and micro-manage everything about someone you don’t even know!”

And with that, Chat whipped out his baton, and Marinette was left watching a white ghost float over the rooftops of Paris, further and further away until he finally disappeared.

9. Blanket

The night wasn’t chilly, but she still had a blanket draped over her shoulders as she stood out on her balcony. It had been a week since the little altercation between her and Chat, and she regretted so many things she said and how she handled the whole situation.

Chat was hurting, and while she had been prying, she’d also gone against his wishes to do so. He had shut himself off, and instead of just being a safe spot he could land with no questions asked, she’d pushed and pressed and prodded any way she could to get information out of him. In her defense, she had only wanted to help as well as try to keep her cat around so he wouldn’t run again.

But a trapped cat doesn’t submit easily, she supposed. Especially one with as much fight in them as Chat Noir had.

So, she wanted to apologize, even though she knew it was unlikely he’d come around again. And who knew if she’d see him again. He said he’d see Ladybug at least one more time to give up his miraculous, but she didn’t want to wait until then to see him again. Though, the longer she stood out here on the balcony with no sign of Chat on the horizon at all, she thought that might be her only chance.

If it was, then she had to be careful not to squander it. Let this be her lesson, and let it be her only one because she really couldn’t afford to make a mistake on her last chance.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, flying up to rest on her shoulder. “It’s past midnight. You should really come inside and go to bed.”

She didn’t want to, but there really wasn’t any other choice. Chat wasn’t coming, and she knew it. “Okay.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2021 #marichat #chat blanc #more angst #bear with me #it will get better

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1994sunflower · 4 years

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Are you still doing requests for Michael? I would really like to see a “when michael first meets your parents” thing ❤️

you literally don't understand how much I loved making this. thank you for the request. I hope you like it!

the first meeting was definitely explosive buut I think as the relationship progresses, the parents start to get more used to it (even if they still don’t like it) so it isnt ever as tense and volatile as the first. we also get to see protective!yn here which I really liked exploring.

in which michael meets your parents

You were constantly going back and forth from cleaning and straightening your living room to staring at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup and trying not to convince yourself to change outfits completely.

It wasn’t that your parents were judgmental. Just extremely traditional and if you didn’t have everything looking pristine and perfect, a comment was sure to leave one of their mouths. And with this reunion with your parents being so different from past ones, you couldn’t afford for anything else to take attention away.

But mostly you were a nervous sort of excited and maybe thats why you were jumping around, constantly in motion. You hadn’t seen your parents for the better half of year and to say you missed them was an understatement. You grew up pampered with love and their constant belief in you and whatever you dreamed of achieving. Even if at times they felt too strict and expecting perfection. But still, it was hard to even leave home for college because of how close you were with them. That didn’t mean you didn’t constantly call to check in or go over for holidays. But even that wasn’t enough. Each year you organized a day when they would come over to your apartment and you would eat out or eat in and have a family day. It was one of your favorite days because it was one of the only times you weren’t stressed because of school and you felt so absolutely surrounded by love and the people closest to you. Except for nearly 2 years now, your moment with the people closest to you was missing someone.

They definitely knew about Michael. Ever since you started dating, you told them all about him and how much he meant to you. But you hadn’t wanted to introduce him right away, afraid that it was too soon or afraid that you weren’t completely in a serious relationship just yet. And lucky for you Michael didn’t seem all that interested either. But Michael had become such an integral part in your life, someone you could see yourself being with forever. Someone you didn’t want to part with. So you knew it was time. And you think your heart might erupt at having all your loved ones together at last. You couldn’t hold back the little excited squeal that escaped you when you called to let your parents know about the addition to your family day.

You were staring at your spotless white living room then, going over everything in your mind to make sure you hadn’t let something slip your mind. Yes, you were excited but you were also so nervous. You usually were when it came time for your parents to visit but this time was so much worse as it felt that this unique visit actually had something riding on it. You felt tense despite yourself. Your fingers played with the fabric of your knitted sweater with the white collar peaking up under it. Maybe you had time to change into something your conventional parents might like even better.

But you felt arms wrap around your waist before you could dwell on that thought for too long. A surprised gasp left you but you could recognize Michael’s strong presence anywhere. You were so in your head, you hadn’t even heard him unlock your apartment door with his key. You relaxed in his arms, leaning back against his chest.

“Thank you for being on time.” You breathed out. You asked him to be there before your ever punctual parents were scheduled to arrive. And you hoped your serious tone was enough to let him know just how important it was to you.

He hummed in response and finally you turned to get a look at him.

It might’ve been the first time you’d seen him with long sleeves. The shirt covered up his arms and fit respectfully around his chest. But it was impossible to even try to hide the tattoos covering the expanse of his neck and his hands and fingers. And he still had the familiar set of chains draped on his jeans. You weren’t ashamed of him and you would never force him to hide and transform into something he was not to appease your parents. So you never mentioned what he should or shouldn’t wear, how he should or shouldn’t act. You wanted him to be himself, the person you loved so much. Even if it wasn’t what your parents would want, expect or even accept. But still, you couldn’t help but swoon at this subtle way of him showing you that he cared enough to try - at least a little, even if it was only because you cared about your parents.

Because sure you told them about him but maybe the way you saw and described him wasn’t exactly how he was to everyone else. To you, he was sweet, caring, gentle, protective, loving with a hard exterior. But even if they didn’t like him, which you knew they likely wouldn’t at first (ever critical and frankly, just shy of snobby) with how much Michael’s image clashed with the one they were trying to maintain and the same one they wanted for you, you were determined to get them to warm up to him eventually. Because you didn’t know how you could handle it if they didn’t like him at all.

Michael, for his part, was much more relaxed on that front than you were. Because, he didn’t have to wonder or stress about being liked by your parents. Ever since you brought up him meeting them, he already knew they wouldn’t like him. And he wasn’t particularly worried about trying to change their minds. The only opinion that mattered in his mind was yours and you liked him just fine. He could see their reactions already, the horror plastered on their faces when they saw him beside their daughter. They might have seemed willing and excited when you first told them he was invited but that was because they had a false image of him in their heads by how you described him. He almost wanted to skip it because he already knew the outcome, one that would only serve to make you upset and by default then, make him angry. But he knew how important family was to you, how close you were with yours and he couldn’t deny you. When he saw how you smiled and giggled with excitement, he didn’t have the heart to ruin that. But even Ashton had seem privy to what would happen, his smile then telling him not so subtly You’re so screwed.

And maybe that was also the reason he consciously decided to wear something that would hide his tattoos more than before. He knew they still wouldn’t like him but it would be better for them to not absolutely detest him - at least not straight off the bat. He didn’t care if they liked him as your boyfriend but he did care if their hatred was so bad that they tried to pull you away from him because if how obvious it would be that he didn’t deserve you. Not that he would ever accept that even if they tried. Maybe that’s why he felt a little more antsy than he ever expected to feel. He wasn’t nervous to meet them, he was unsure of what meeting them could end up meaning for his relationship.

He had to be at least a little better than he was usually with others. It also didn’t help that he never had to be in the position of meeting a girl’s parents before - especially one that was so incredibly different from him already that her parents, her strict, professional parents would probably blow up to see the type of man their daughter took with her chosen partner, the kind that didn’t seem like would amount to much - which was ill-suited for you who everyone knew would achieve her wildest dreams. For the first time in a long time he couldn’t help but think just how different your paths in life were before they converged and how much he wished, at least for tonight, that he was just a little less inconspicuous, in all fronts (height and body art) so that just the sight of him wouldn’t be an omen for your parents of how badly he was suited for you, how much he would destroy you and their dreams of your future.

It had to be a testament of his love that he hadn’t tried to back out of this already.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tip toes to try to look him more at eye level - still miserably too short but trying all the same. “I know I already told you but I made food for all of us instead of going out so it’d be more of a personal thing. And please don’t mention anything about me living with you, okay? They-”

“They still think you’re a virgin like a good little girl.” His smile was anything but sweet and you slapped his arm playfully at his words. Oh, another thing they would hate him for. Another way he ruined their precious daughter.

“Michael. This is serious.” It wasn’t what you were going to say. But you didn’t deny his words were true, either.

You didn’t technically move in together. But you spent most of your time with Michael and slept at his house more often than you did in your own apartment. For Michael, it was weird not being there right then with you, even weirder if you were here instead of his house. In your parents minds however, you lived and slept in your apartment 24/7 and this would be the first time Michael was ever in there for an extended period of time. And if they ever found out the truth, they would probably drag you back to live with them and away from Michael tooth and nail. Same goes for if they ever had a clue that he even had a key to your apartment, allowing him access whenever he wanted and for whatever purposes. As far as they were aware, you were still the shy girl who had barely even had her first kiss yet let alone have experienced all you had with Michael. If they even had a clue, they would think Michael was an even a worse influence than his appearance would already lead them to believe; they may even believe he was a devil.

You took his face in your hands, “One last thing. They may seem a little…snobby but whatever they may think or say at first doesn’t matter. I know they’ll end up loving you just as much as I do.”

Michael didn’t have to respond. You made a small jump to kiss his lips and he caught you in the air easily, holding you up to him so you could kiss more easily. He hadn’t commented on your very conservative outfit, your usual choices of skirts and light dresses (his favorites, the ones that always had such easy access) were done away with and instead a sweater that hid your body and jeans that stood between him and being able to feel your core against him whenever you wrapped your legs around him were in its place. Even without the day starting yet, he already decided the change in wardrobe your parents inspired in you was one of his least favorite part of the day.

Maybe he would end up disliking them just as much as they did him.

You yelped when you heard the knocking at your door and Michael groaned at having to separate from your addicting lips and even more when you wiggled in his arms to be set down again. You scrambled quickly to the mirror, fixing whatever lipstick he had smudged and he had the decency to at least wipe at his own lips to get rid of any color.

Off to a rough start. The last thing you needed was for your parents’ first impression of Michael to be with your lipstick still smeared on his lips.

You took his big hand in yours, loving the way his fingers immediately entwined in yours, as you made your way to the door, dragging him along. His chains rattled as he followed you. You opened the door with a big happy smile on your face and he was almost sad to know that eventually that smile would be gone. His gaze was on you, almost wishing that he would be wrong about their reactions towards him because he wanted nothing else but to keep you the happiest person in the world, even if he knew the way to do that (to have your parents like him like you wanted them to) was unlikely.

“Mom, dad!” You jumped excitedly. You hadn’t seen them in nearly a year and at the sight of them, standing side by side at your doorway, dressed as impeccably as they always did and wearing their parental, loving smiles, it suddenly hit you how much you missed them. You could almost cry.

But you didn’t let go of Michael’s hand. And finally, Michael’s gaze shifted from you to the two people he could thank for your marvelous existence. They were everything he imagined they would look like. Just as prim and proper as their daughter, or at least as you were before he came along.

Your hands squeezed Michael’s and he noticed you were shaking a little. He resisted the urged to collect you in his arms to calm you down. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement.

“This is Michael, my boyfriend. Michael, these are my parents.” You looked between them expectantly, your parents only having moved from outside to through the doorframe, and Michael realized you were expecting a warm welcome from them at his introduction.

But both of you watched as your mother’s eyes slipped to your entwined hands, no doubt eyeing the tattoos running up and down Michael’s hand and fingers that basically completely enveloped your small one. To her credit, her grin was still intact. Faking it until she made it.

Your father, was much less of an actor. He stared up at Michael. Your father wasn’t a short man, at least compared to his own wife and his daughter. But very little could measure up to Michael in height. Maybe that had something to do with the way your father’s eyes constantly flickered between the top of your head and to Michael’s eyes, almost bristling at the difference. It was one thing to have a taller boyfriend but it was quite another to have someone as big as Michael, shoulders wide and tall, that seemed to rise dauntingly at your side. It almost felt, to your father, as if you were being taken advantaged of, ravaged by what could be the embodiment of everything he had tried to protect you from.

You watched, your smile slowly fading but still holding on, as their eyes slipped to Michael’s neck. To where his tattoos still were on full display, with an expression of distress. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Michael had chosen to wear a short sleeve. You just hoped they would never have occasion to see him shirtless. You made a note to self to never have a family pool day.

The silence was dreadful. It only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime. Especially when you hoped they would have greeted Michael with warmth and even if it had to be fake, excitement. Okay, maybe it would take a little more convincing for them to like him than you thought. You thought this could be a possibility, that they wouldn’t like him at the start, but you convinced yourself it wouldn’t happen. Convinced that they would see how much you liked him, enough to introduce him to them, enough to trust him so completely.

Michael didn’t stray his eyes from your parents. He wasn’t trying to be challenging or mocking, even if that was usually exactly what he tended to be. But their reactions were exactly what he expected them to be. The looks of uncertainty, as if this was just a big joke they were waiting to be clued in on. They looked at him as if he was the bad guy on the wrong path that had somehow ensnared their precious daughter. He felt every bit as scrutinized as they obviously were scrutinizing him, they didn’t try to hide it. They saw the way they eyed his tattoos, his chains, his size with disapproval and judgement. If he actually cared about their opinions he might be hurt. But it was almost funny. They didn’t even see half of all they could judge him for. Part of him wondered just what you told them about him to make them not expect what he actually turned out to be.

They stood so still, he wasn’t sure if their minds literally malfunctioned or not. But as he felt you pull yourself closer to his side, almost as if trying to protect him, uselessly attempt to shield him from their eyes, he finally glanced down at you while squeezing your hand for comfort. He didn’t mind the silent criticism and immediate rejection. But he saw your eyes swirl with uncertainty and worry. You hadn’t expected this, that much was clear and it was hurting you. You wanted them to meet but you hadn’t wanted to put Michael in a situation where he would feel unwelcome or judged. Michael loved your hopefulness, even if it was fruitless from the start. The only thing making you feel better was that he didn’t seem really bothered.

“Nice to meet you.” His voice was curt but not cold, as polite as he could manage to force himself to be. For your sake, he’d make the first move.

And it was as if your parents sprung back to life. As if they weren’t aware that they had let their façade slip. Your mother’s smile was back in full force, granted it was forced, and it suddenly struck Michael just how much you two resembled one another, your smile was the same. Your father didn’t look happy but he was back to his usual strict faced expression.

“Oh! We’ve heard so much about you Michael.” Your mother clasped her hands together and while everyone could tell her excitement wasn’t genuine, it seemed enough for your hope to come back.

Because your grin came back, matching your mother’s, before you finally let go of Michael’s hand and bounded over to them. “I missed you so much, mom.” You hugged your mother tightly as your father smiled at the two women of his life. Such a different look to the one he had when you were next to Michael.

“And you too, daddy.” You mumbled as you moved on to hug your father with a relieved sigh.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Michael clenched his lips together into a thin straight line. It was wrong to see you then, bubbly and jumping around excitedly, looking so adorable and wholesome in front of your parents. While you spoke the title you had so often times moaned out as he had you trembling under him, so tiny and submissive that he could completely take over your entire figure, the one that gave him all the power and dominance over you.

But to hear it in this context just reinforced what Michael already knew. You were a good girl. One that got good grades and obeyed her parents. But he was slowly tainting that goodness, leaving a new part of yourself just for him. And the rest of the world had no idea. It was almost comical to see you put on this mask of a demure, chaste daughter when he knew the truth of what you were for him.

He had to look away from you, the sight of you looking so pure while saying a word that should have no other connotation was a reminder of how innocent you were and just how much he enjoyed ruining that, how much he already had but evidently not enough because there it was still in front of him.

He had an urge to take it away right then too, to destroy that facade you currently had up, remind you that he had taken away that pure innocence a long time ago. An urge to hear those words you had just uttered but this time directed to him, like he was used to hearing. A fuck you to the parents that thought they knew you so well, that thought you were, were currently seeing you as, an angelic shy daughter who’d never so much as been touched while in reality her big possessive boyfriend had changed that the moment he decided to have you, it was what made you his, preventing anyone else from ever being able to have you again. But the thought of you being that in front of him right then despite all that, being shy, modest and acting virginal was enough for his body to be heating up with need.

It wasn’t the time for those thoughts but he couldn’t help it after hearing your words, spoken with such modesty when he could imagine drawing it from your lips for him with a very different tone. Oh what horror it would come to your parents, to know that he had that same little girl that currently looked as if she held all the pureness in the world was already marked by him, and all the sinful things he had compelled you to do, the path he was taking you along because of it. And there was nothing they could do about it.

He felt a hand clap his shoulder and he snapped out of his thoughts, glancing down to see your father. His grip was tight and his eyes were unfriendly but his words were playful, likely for your sake. “Great to finally meet you, Mike.” Michael cringed at his words, he hated nicknames. Hated what they seemed to mean, that whoever spoke it thought they were close enough, knew him well enough to give him a personal title. Unless it was from you. “You’re a lot different from what Y/N told us, though.”

“Dad!” Your words had a tone of warning to them as you opened your eyes wide in alarm. His words weren’t straight out critical but the meaning was well received. And any hint of a problem was enough for you to jump in.

Your mother squeezed your shoulders. “Oh come now, little bird.” She laid her cheek on the top of your head, it was hard to be mad at them when she was holding you so maternally you almost felt like a child again. Her gaze was on Michael, however. “You’re a lot taller than I imagined. It isn’t hard to be taller than our Y/N though.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the reminder of just how small you were, this time in front of your boyfriend, but Michael couldn’t stop the albeit tense smile that escaped him at your shyness.

But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be an airy comment. He was taller, but maybe too much. It made it seem as if he was somehow exploiting their poor defenseless daughter, using her to fulfill whatever sick desires he had brewing inside of him. If only they knew.

Your mother hummed, “But if you’re anything like what she tells us about you, I’m sure it will be lovely to get to know you. Even if you do seem so different from all the other boys she’s had interest in.”

The silence that comment was met with was palpable.

Michael’s eyes narrowed at her words. The implication of you with other men (men he had no doubt were a world’s difference from him, men that your mother obviously approved and preferred), thinking of them and crushing on them, was worse enough. But what it meant that your mother purposely remembered and brought them in front of him, your boyfriend, just added a further element.

You had the good sense in moving forward, pulling at his arm before he could retort. Your parents or not, he wasn’t ever good at controlling himself when he got volatile. You cleared your throat. “I made lunch for us. Let’s just sit and get started.”

You were pulling him away and guiding him to your already set dining table. You were uncomfortably aware of the rattling his chains did when he began moving and saw how your parents glanced at them in quick glances. Their lips were set tightly as they walked behind you and Michael and you could feel the way they wanted to talk to each other, no doubt expressing opinions you wouldn’t want to hear.

Michael sat next to you, never letting go of your hand while your father took his place next to him and your mother across from you. If you took away the tension, it almost felt like Michael was the new addition to your small family. The thought made your heart swell. Maybe everything would settle down and get better from then on. You wanted your parents and him to love each other so much, needed this to work on. You weren’t sure if you could handle it if the most important people in your life didn’t get along. You knew Maia already didn’t like him, you didn’t need to add more to the mix.

Your father glanced sideways to Michael. “So, do you study anything in science too? Our daughter spoke all about how kind you were.” His eyes did a not so subtle glance to Michael’s appearance that showcased just how uncertain he was of his daughter’s truthfulness on that account. “But she didn’t mention much about what you do.”

Maybe that was on purpose. Because while you didn’t look the least bit embarrassed when he spoke, your parents didn’t share that sentiment. “No, nothing in science.” He was trying his best, really he was, hiding his contempt and warningly low voice he wanted to take on. You noticed it, the way his tone was still calm, even bordering polite. Or at least his version of polite.

“But Michael helps me out a lot when studying so he knows a thing or two by now. He’s really supportive.” You said. It was true in that you often went to him to study but most of his help came from you practicing bandaging people up after his fights. Not that you were going to make the clarification to your parents.

Your mother nodded, eating your words up. “Well that’s great! It might be even better that you two don’t study the same thing, no competition or anything like that.”

You loved your mother so much in that moment. At least she was making an effort. And how could you doubt her, really. She was the woman who raised you, the warmest person you knew.

Your father, however, was more blunt. Kind of like Michael. You wondered if having that in common would help them get along better or just dislike each other more.

“So how did you two meet?” Your mother continued, “Do you live on campus as well?”

Michael talked much more than you expected him to. And you were grateful when he responded to each question instead of just a nod or shake of the head. “I live a few blocks away from here. But we met on campus.”

It seemed he knew when to leave out some details as well. Telling them you met him bleeding and hurt after a fight would not have fared well.

Your mother smiled tightly, “Oh. I suppose it’s easy to visit each other then.” Her gaze split to you and you saw the warning in them. She wasn’t a fan of the prospect of her daughter being alone in a boy’s house, especially one like Michael where he would be free to allure her into unconscionable things a woman like you should not do, particularly one that was raised to do things ‘correctly’ and in the confines of marriage. You hoped she would never have a hint otherwise even if what she was afraid of already happened, and much worse than she ever imagined. Even worse that you had enjoyed it so much, welcomed his allure even.

But before either you or Michael could answer, she continued. “Our little bird cried her eyes out when she moved out.”

“Mom.” You said, hiding your eyes shyly. You didn’t want to think of Michael’s thoughts at that moment, hearing you sound so childish. Maybe thats why your mom said it, knowing that didn’t fit in at all with Michael’s very mature look and aura.

But Michael was staring directly at you, smirking without meaning to. Even then, you were so pure, the worse in your life was leaving your parents. It was as if he was at last being clued into just how much he managed to taint your unsullied person, just how much he managed to change you. From a precious daughter who cried at the thought of parting with her parents, to a slut who cried for his cock and cum. And yet your parents was still blissfully unaware of how he corrupted you. He had to clench his jaw to stop himself from getting hard.

“She adjusted really well.” His words were filled with a humor only you could understand. The double meaning that went lost to your parents ears, mostly because he knew they wouldn’t want to understand it so they didn’t.

Your hand was on top of Michael’s on the table, your fingers tracing circles on his hands. Mostly to comfort yourself, but knowing it was helping Michael relax as well. Your father was staring at you with a clenched jaw, visibly frustrated with Michael’s answers, or lack thereof. Maybe he had been hoping that this was just a set up but to see your intimate and gentle interactions with Michael, it was evident that wasn’t the case. It looked wrong to him to even see Michael allow such touches from you when he clearly didn’t deserve it. Especially when he looked so cold. Both of your parents noticed it when they arrived, the coolness with which he regarded them and even you. The warmth you seemed to radiate was so strange next to his mean expression.

But then the conversation was on you and your studies, your excited chatter filled the air, and Michael was glad for the reprieve. Though he felt as though eyes were still on him constantly. The things he would endure for you.

You had warned him that they were judgmental. But how could they have raised such an open minded girl, one that could’ve been capable of falling in love with him? Or perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps he really had ruined you in more ways than he thought. The thought filled him with a twisted, possessive pride.

“I’ll be right back, I have to bring the dessert from the kitchen.” Michael was getting ready to rise to join you when your mother jumped in.

“Oh, I’ll help”

Your eyes widened in alarm at the thought of leaving your visibly frustrated father with Michael. “O-Oh. Actually, Michael was going to…”

“Nonsense. He’s a guest.”

You didn’t respond, just nodding tensely. Besides, what could you say? That Michael had spent more than enough days and nights here to no longer hold that guest status? Your parents might combust.

And it seemed as if your dad was waiting for an opportunity to finally speak because as soon as you were out of sight, his gaze was on Michael’s tall figure beside him.

“You know a man like you doesnt strike me as the type to be interested in my daughter.” He said, “You know with your certain look to you. Might scare them away.”

Didn’t scare your daughter away. Michael wanted to quip but your father continued before he had the chance to dwell on whether or not to speak his mind.

“I don’t figure that my little Y/N is your type of woman, normally. What changed?”

How had he gotten you. Was what he was trying to say. How did a man like Michael, get a girl like you. He was sure the rest of the world asked themselves the same question your parents were currently asking themselves. Why had you even given him the time of day? Sometimes he asked himself that too. But usually it filled him with satisfaction knowing how great of a girl he had gotten, to be able to arouse those questions.

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t the type of girl he usually would’ve gone for before meeting you. He’d never been with an inexperienced girl and your differences, perhaps if anyone else, would have dissuaded him from ever pursuing you. But he couldn’t pinpoint what changed, just that when he met you, none of that mattered.

Michael didn’t lift his own gaze from your father’s. This time not caring if he looked challenging or not and not bothering to try to speak more than just a clipped response. “I don’t know. But seems like I’m your daughter’s type, so it worked out for me.”

“Really, she’s not to...peppy for you? You seem much more .... stoic”

In fact it’s the happiness you bring in his life that he loves so much. He wasn’t stoic with you but his smiles, laughs and chuckles were reserved only for you. And he loved seeing you look so shy and cute next to him.

“No.”

Just as blunt as your father. And while it may not seem so to anyone beside you, he really was still trying to be as proper as possible. That included some slightly unmannerly responses and behaviors, but he wasn’t cursing or intimidating. So he counted that as a win.

If your father expected a boyfriend desperate for approval, he wasn’t in luck. Michael didn’t care for his acceptance or support. He didn’t care that your father’s face was turning red with anger; at the suggestion that his daughter, the one he raised so carefully, the gentle and smart one that they were so proud of, the one destined for a nice marriage with a nice rich man, could possibly be attracted to someone like him who, with the small portion of ink he could see, screamed bad news. Michael had an urge to let him in on a little secret; you were much more than just attracted to him, you were weak for him. He wondered how much angrier your father would be if he knew his daughter called him daddy too.

“Listen here, Michael” He tried his best to be well mannered. “I don’t know what a guy like you wants with my daughter, your intentions. But it’s not what’s best for her, you’re not what’s best for her. She might be blinded from that right now but when she wakes up, and she will, you won’t be around for too long afterward. So take whatever sick fantasy you have away from her because guess what? She won’t be participating. She’s too smart to fall for it. I won’t let my little girl be defiled by someone like you.”

A little too late for that. He had lost count of how many times he made sure to cum all over your face to prove it.

Michael was silent, staring at him with dangerous eyes. But even still, a taunting smirk was threatening to form on his lips. If only he knew that Michael had ‘his little girl’ on her knees yesterday with his cock down her throat.

Your father was right. He likely wasn’t what was best for you, you could do better. But Michael was a selfish man and you had already allowed yourself to be claimed by him, wanted him just as much as he did you. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him. The thought that your father was still worried about your cherished chastity with someone like him, just increased the lust fueling in him at the knowledge that he had already tarnished the sweet girl no one expected, or dreamed, to have been ensnared by someone like him.

“She’s a big girl, now.” He said with a secretive smirk. “And I plan on staying for a very long time” He let his sentence stop there for your sake but the rest of his sentence hung between them in silence. so get used to it. Maybe whatever rich loser you wanted her to be with would be afraid of you or cared, but like you said: I’m not what’s best for her. So I don’t.

Your father’s voice rose so much Michael was surprised you hadn’t heard and come running to defuse the situation. “Look at you! You can’t expect me to think you have good intentions with a girl that you tower over, one that still looks at the world with wonder and has nothing visibly in common with you. She’s never done drugs, never drank, doesn’t have tattoos, she dresses in pastels for God’s sake. One you can easily manipulate especially as it’s pretty obvious to anyone that has eyes that you are more….lived than she has been. She’s lived a sheltered life and that makes her susceptible to bad influences, one that try to take advantage of her for their own twisted desires or kinks.”

Michael didn’t even know if he could deny the accusation towards his intentions. He loved you, couldn’t imagine spending his life without you. He had nothing but good intentions in being with you. But yet, the intentions that swirled around in his mind constantly, the ones that saw you on your knees, bent over, crying for him, body moving alongside him, eliciting you to do every sinful desire, every bad influence, in his heart were anything but good. Only fueled by your tiny size, how everything about him was too big for you, your innocence and wide eyed look to the world, and how that is visible in the way you dress like a naive slut without even realizing it. You were the completely opposite of him and him being able to taint you, leave his mark on you in that way by using that pureness in all the dirty ways he saw fit was a kink he would never get sick of.

As much as Michael wanted to fight back against his words as angrily as he felt. He didn’t. Because he knew you would come back and fix everything and he didn’t want his lapse of judgement to stick in your father’s memories. Despite what he thought, Michael loved you and knew you enough to know that.

But his words held the same amount of punch nonetheless. “Trust me anything I do to her, I don’t have to manipulate her to do it.” He told you that he’d try with your parents. But he never promised that he would try that hard.

And just like he predicted, you were sprinting over to them in an instant. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard his words, only enough to see your father’s veins practically pop out. You stood between and it might’ve been to spite your father that Michael stood at that moment, resting his hand on your hips and pulling you into him protectively. The top of your head just skimming his chest. Showcasing to your parents in visual terms that he was your boyfriend. Maybe it was their worst decision ever to allow you to move out and into university. But it was too late to regret it now. In fact, watching that realization dawn on them, seeing firsthand just what he had taken from the world, a proper innocent girl. You were his now, introduced to sex and pleasure by his hand, ruining you, when that was never meant to happen, just seemed to stoke the fire burning in him.

“Dad!” You stared at your father with a hurt gaze, allowing your figure to be held tightly by Michael.

You sighed dramatically as you entered the kitchen. Knowing that if your mother insisted on coming with you it was because you were about to have a talk, one you definitely did not want to hear.

“Y/N.” She started and you slumped against the counter, crossing your arms defensively. Just when you were starting to think she liked him, that things were going more smoothly than they started to be.

“If you’re here to judge my boyfriend, I’d rather not hear it, mom.”

Your mother nodded as if she was on your side. “Oh, darling. I know all girls go through this phase of liking the boys like this and you’re in college now so everything seems so new and interesting. But if this is just you rebelling or trying to prove something to your father and I. Like, I don’t know maybe you resent us from keeping you from experiencing your teen years then…”

“A phase?!” You stared at her with horror. “You think this is a phase? That I’m with Michael because I’m trying to prove a point or something, I’ve been with him for 2 years mother!”

“And you are just now introducing us, what does that tell you?”

“That I knew you’d act like this and I didn’t want him to be put in a position where he has to defend his very existence! I’m not ashamed of him.”

Your mother touched her forehead in exasperation. “Listen to yourself defending him. Boys like him…they’re only interested in one thing and I don’t want you getting swept up in it, because it isn’t you. Don’t think Maia hasn’t told me all about him, too” You might kill your best friend before this dinner is over. “I raised a kind, gentle, wholesome girl and I don’t want to see what someone like him can do to that when he is very obviously anything but. He’s a bad influence! Honey, really he looks so cold and tense, like he’s half a beat away from killing someone. Can he really give you the love and care you’re used to? That you deserve? He’s walking a different path than you are. And one day you’ll wake up from this and realize that your father and I are right and that we’re just looking out for what’s best for you. You should be with boys more like you. Like Daniel! You remember him from church when you were little? His mother tells me he studies here too and I hear he has grown up very well, I-”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Was your mother seriously attempting to set you up while your boyfriend was in the other room?

She was partly right. Michael had been walking a different path than you and he had changed you. He had introduced you to things you never could have imagined and you have been side by side with things you’ve been warned all your life to never partake in but he never forced you, he respected boundaries and he wanted to keep you safe and pure as much as anyone.He taught you everything you knew about the world and what it had to offer, he opened your eyes and other parts of yourself and you never felt more exhilarated and safe than with him.

But how were you supposed to tell her that your love for Michael wasn’t a desperate attempt of rebelling or a phase to do so. That you were already swept up in what ‘boys like him’ wanted and you were all too happy to fulfill that. You loved everything she was warning you about. You loved his possessiveness and how wanted you felt with him, how he treated you like a princess, gently yet so roughly. How he was so much bigger he could throw you around however he wanted and you were oh so happy to be his submissive toy. You felt cared for, despite him looking colder than he really was; in fact even more knowing you were an exception in his life, that he was only that way with you. Everything he taught you about sex and pleasure and how good he made you feel.

You weren’t going to wake up one day and see what they claimed was the truth. Because the real truth was, you couldn’t be happier with Michael. A man who respected you and made you feel like the center of the world, you’d never felt more loved and cared for than you did with him. And the thought of dating someone like Daniel when you’d already had a taste of Michael, his danger, his protection, his adoration, was dreadfully boring and distasteful.

You were going over your head how you were going to explain all this when the rough clanging of silverware sounded from the dining room. You’d been with Michael enough to know the sound of problem when you heard it. So you dashed away from the kitchen, leaving your mother to trail behind you without a word.

You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak. You saw your father’s angry face, replacing his usual collected strict one, but you didn’t even want to hear what Michael could have said to trigger it.

“I was so excited.” Your voice broke despite yourself, your eyes turning glassy. “I was so happy that the three most important people in my life were finally going to meet because I wanted you to love each other just as much as I love each of you.”

You squared your shoulders, happy that your parents were at least giving you the decency of listening. “The last thing I wanted was to subject my boyfriend to feeling inferior or like he isn't welcome or accepted. He doesn’t deserve that and I love him too much to put him in this position.”

You felt Michael’s hands tighten around your figure but you kept talking. It broke his heart to see just how happy you had started the day and how you had finished it. “He might not be what you expected but I want to make it clear that the way I described him to you when I mentioned him, that is how I see him and it’s not my fault you’re too stuck on appearances or stereotypes to see that. He’s not taking advantage of me and he’s not a bad influence or using me or whatever I represent to satisfy some…perversion or whatever you think.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke that way to your parents. But at that moment, you couldn’t really care. You were too hurt, the excitement and hope you felt at the beginning was squashed and instead there was just a fierce protectiveness for the love of your life. “Michael tried but you couldn’t even give him that? I love him and he loves me and I've never felt more secure in being loved, adored or protected. He always looks out for me and never lets me do something that is bad for me. He has never pressured me to do anything and in fact, he's stopped me from being pressured to do things I’ve never done or wanted to do before. I can see a future with him and yet my own parents won’t even take the time to get to know him without already having made up their minds.”

It was your tears that had your parents glancing at each other guiltily before back to you. They weren’t being fair and while their minds were certainly not changed about Michael, they understood their need to at least tolerate him, especially when he meant so much to the only person that mattered in their eyes: you.

Your father spoke first, his eyes jumping around to avoid staring directly at Michael but he nodded as he forced his words out. “You’re right, darling. We’re sorry, to you and Michael. I think we just got caught off guard, plus we were already not going to like him - being your first boyfriend and all. Can’t blame us for being worried.”

And Michael should’ve expected it from his too kind girlfriend when you smiled through your shed tears. You nodded at his words as an acceptance of the apology, just happy they gave Michael one in the first place. You sniffled tearfully. “Of course, daddy. Thank you.”

Okay, Michael would seriously have to force you to stop saying that to your father or else your dad would really hate him. And he’s afraid he wouldn’t give less of a fuck.

But then your parents were sitting down again, a time for a restart and so Michael guided you down, rubbing his hand up and down soothingly on your back. He knew your parents wouldn’t really ever change their minds about him - especially when, if he was honest, a lot of what they said about him deserving you or how he was changing you, were correct. But they didn’t understand your dynamic, that that very corruption of you was his favorite part. And he was teaching you to love it just as much.

“Yes, again, I’m very sorry Michael.” Your mother nodded at him, “And thank you, if all that she just said is true about looking out for her. Actually, we wanted to thank you. Since you started dating, our little bird has really stepped out of her shell.” You whined embarrassed and Michael fought back a smirk, he was helping you with that all right. But maybe your mother wouldn’t be thankful for that if she knew the truth. But your father just nodded along.

Michael didn’t respond. He wasn't protecting you for your parents, he would protect you even without them.

“We wondered who this man was that was helping her so much but now I see it’s because you’re so….free spirited” The reference to Michael’s tattoos couldn’t be more obvious. He couldn’t be nice to Michael even if he tried. But maybe a backhanded compliment was better than a boxing match.

Michael hadn’t even wanted to wear an uncomfortable long sleeved shirt, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide all his ink anyway and he didn’t really care too much about the difference in your parents reactions if they’ll react negative to their daughters boyfriend having neck and hand tattoos anyway. But right then he thought maybe he had made the best choice.

Michael watched them carefully. Tolerate. That’s all their new behavior was towards him and he could appreciate that. Because equally, he was forcing himself to be as proper as his mind would let him towards them. Of course, that didn’t mean he was anxious about their acceptance or good feelings towards him.

He had a feeling any future meetings would be like that, the knowing that neither of them really approved of him, the sneaky attempts of guiding you away but the general fake pleasantries thrown his way. And he would try not to ruin that by letting his anger cause him to speak his mind, he could be proper.

And either you were blissfully unaware of the tense peace compromise between them or you didn’t care, but you just laid your head to rest on his shoulder as you listened to your parents prod more into Michael’s life, asking questions about their daughters boyfriend as if they were accepting him into their lives. You couldn’t be more grateful. And happy. It felt like it was true, your most loved ones were living side by side in harmony. It was everything you wanted and more. A bubbly smile filled your face that your parents, despite themselves, noted how starkly it stood out next to Michael’s tough face.

They hadn’t tried to take you away from him, you were still in his arms. Along with the pride he felt at you standing up for him when you didn’t have to, when he was very aware of your feelings for him and secure in them. He felt more appreciative than he would ever let you know. All of that that was enough for Michael to play along, play nice and just wait for this entire meeting to be over with. Wait until he could finally be alone with you and content, like he wanted. Like he only ever was when it was just you two.

Besides, despite his best attempts, all these reminders of your differences had left him hornier than he would like to admit. His desires were flaring up to have your parents ‘pure little daughter who he didn’t deserve’ moaning under him. They couldn’t leave fast enough.

#5sos #5sos imagines #Michael clifford #Michael clifford x reader #bad boy michael #Michael clifford smut #5sos smut #bad boy smut #Michael clifford fluff #5sos fluff #jealous smut #possessive bad boy #college au

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

The Fall

Harry Potter AU

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Rating: M

Summary: Losing someone you love is hard. Losing them because you were told they've gone crazy is worse! After Sirius escaped from prison, its time to face years of heartbreak while still keeping yourself sane for your nephew Harry.

Song at the beginning: Impossible

__________

When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone and so effortlessly. You have won, you can go ahead, tell them. Tell them all I know now. Shout it from the rooftops. Write it on the skyline. All we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy and my heart is broken. All my scars are open. Tell them all I hoped would be impossible

Your eyes looked at the page from your journal 14 dated years ago. It was the day that you found out Sirius had been locked up in Azkaban. You didn’t want to believe any of it! You didn’t want to believe the sunshine boy that you had fallen in love with had really gone bad!

As if supposedly joining the death eaters wasn’t bad enough the knowledge that he had betrayed your brother and best friend was worse! How did Sirius betray his best friend in the world? James had been everything to Sirius! Your whole family had! It was unfathomable how he could actually end up like his family.

You wanted to believe that Sirius was innocent! It didn’t help that he never returned any letter that you sent him in prison. If he wanted to clear his name at least to you this was a shitty way to do it! It seemed Sirius was just going to let his girlfriend believe that he was a murderer!

“Aunt Y/n?”

Your head snapped up, hearing Harry’s voice on the other side of your closed door.

“I’ll be right out.”

You said softly. At the moment, you didn’t want to face Harry. You didn’t want him to see your tear-stained face. Unfortunately, you would have to soon though.

“I am so screwed.”

You muttered as you continued dressing. Today was THE day. Harry and yourself were moving to Grimmauld place and you would have to face Sirius.

“Stupid Voldermort and him coming back acting all rowdy...stupid jerk,”

You muttered, looking around your now empty bedroom. With the return of the biggest jerk on the planet, you agreed to Sirius’ family home to keep Harry safe. You could also get back into the order again.

“Yay for good times!”

Since the day, Harry came home from 3rd year and told you that Sirius wasn’t guilty; you knew that you would have to face your lover someday.

When Harry told you that Sirius was innocent, all you could do was sit and stare at your nephew....

“Y/n, did you hear me?

Harry asked softly. You could only nod as your nephew sat down beside you.

“He wants to see you. I believe that he is still in love with you.”

It was everything that you wanted to hear! Everything and some more, your mind supplied. Since the day that you had gained custody of baby Harry all of those years before you wanted nothing more than for Sirius to be part of your lives. You wanted him to be the godfather that he was supposed to be...the two of you could raise Harry as a family. Unfortunately, that dream was shot to hell!

“I can’t see him, Harry. Not now.”

You pulled yourself from the memory as Harry knocked again.

“Y/n, Remus is here to get us.”

(Meanwhile)

Sirius sat looking around his mother’s living room with disgust written all over his face. He absolutely hated being back here! Sure, it was better than prison but not as good as truly free. He felt like he was in a second prison that he couldn’t escape from. Being trapped in the place that tormented him as a child was enough to bring back some nasty PTSD!

He couldn’t go out and do anything so essentially he was in prison again with his mother’s screeching portrait to keep him company. Of course, there were always people coming and going but it was no one that he particularly wanted. They weren’t you.

Sirius should have been ecstatic that you were coming with Harry! He should have been thrilled to know that the one woman that he loved was going to be under the same roof as him...but he wasn’t. Sirius had a feeling that you still didn’t believe that he was innocent. The fact that you hadn’t come to him sooner told Sirius all that he needed to know.

His eyes went to the photo that was sitting on the fireplace. It was the one that was taken not long after graduation when the two of you moved in together. Everything about you was happy. Sirius could see the love radiating in your eyes as you smiled up at him. Something told him that look would no longer be in your pretty eyes anymore.

The man that you knew was long gone! Sirius wasn’t afraid to admit that. Sure, he was still similar but prison had changed him. You would be lucky to get a smile out of him. Sirius sighed. It was probably best to let go of any hopes of reconciliation. You didn’t need someone who would worry you with dark looks and distant expressions! You needed someone that could make you happy and laugh...the way he used to…

(1 hour later)

You stepped into the dark hallway for 12 Grimmauld Place behind Remus. Looking around quietly, you couldn't help but think how much the place hadn’t changed. Still dark and gloomy laced with oppression and sadness. The last time you were here was for one of Sirius’ mother’s pureblood “Our family is the best in the universe parties.”

Sirius’ mother had, for whatever, reason decided to let him bring a guest and the two of you didn’t disappoint! You wore a bright red scarlet dress while Sirius had on one of his school ties. He had taken extra care to make sure that his shoulder-length black hair was wild that night. Walburga Black about died from embarrassment. That was the last time that you were allowed in that house.

Remus glanced at you over his shoulder.

“Thinking about that party?”

You nodded.

“Yes.

Harry slammed the door behind him and there was a loud screeching in the other room.

“BLOOD TRAITORS! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

You immediately groaned.

“I thought that old bat died!”

You snapped following Remus into the room where a painting of Walburga Black hung. If she could the woman would have been hopping up and down in anger. She glared at everyone.

“FILTH! BLOOD TRAITORS! THE LOT OF YOU!”

You frowned, putting a hand out to stop Harry from moving closer.

“That’s obnoxious.”

You said as Sirius walked into the room to help Remus put the curtain over the painting. The air stopped in your lungs as you looked at him. Still perfectly handsome Sirius Black! You couldn’t help but swoon for a moment, however, you quickly stopped yourself as Walburga’s painting started screaming extra loud at the sight of her son.

“You filthy blood traitor...you are no son of mine!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time that he had heard that!

“Shut up!”

When the old hag was finally shut up, Sirius and Remus exchanged an exhausted expression.

“Still no idea how to shut her up?”

Remus asked. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Gasoline and an oily rag is my next guess.”

Sirius turned his attention from Remus to where Harry and yourself stood. Harry quickly walked to his godfather and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“It's good to see you!”

Harry said happily. You were relieved to see Sirius actually smile a real smile. It wasn’t one of those fake ones that he was a master at. You watched the two with heartbroken eyes. This was everything that you had wanted from the beginning! You wanted a family with Sirius and Harry. The three of you could have been the perfect little family...if the fates would have allowed it.

When Harry let go of Sirius, his expression turned to you. The awkwardness slowly crept in...just as you imagined it would. He still looked mostly the same, just a bit older. Sirius still had that haughty handsome look to him that attracted you the first time as kids. The only thing different now was he didn’t smile when looking at you. Instead, he looked in pain. Was it guilt...you didn’t know.

“Hi, Y/n.”

Sirius was finally able to get out. Just looking at you was enough for him to know that he was still in love with you. Merlin, you were still perfect! 14 years had been good to your looks! Nothing seemed to be different!

When he said your name it was a gut-punch of emotions. You were heartbroken thinking about your stolen life and overjoyed to hear his voices saying your name.

“Hi, Sirius.”

Had it been 14 years ago, you would have blushed when he said your name, and Sirius would start flirting with you shamelessly. It didn’t matter how long the two of you had been dating; the man could make you blush with one sultry look,

“It's so good to see you.” He said, sounding almost too hopeful.

Remus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to usher him out of the room. Harry, nor Remus himself, needed to watch this. It was going to be awkward enough without their presence. Remus knew that deep down you believed Sirius was innocent but you needed to hear it for yourself from Sirius directly.

Once they were out of the room, you finally looked up. You made a mental note to thank Remus for taking Harry out later.

“You didn’t write.”

Sirius frowned.

“I figured that you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

You rolled your eyes before slightly laughing.

“I guess four letters a day for six months wasn’t enough of a clue. Excuse me, I should have been more obvious.”

Sirius frowned. He expected you to be distant but maybe not this hostile.

“Y/n, that isn’t what I meant. I thought...damn it I don’t know what I thought. I’ve missed you...not a day goes by…”

You shook your head.

“Tell it to the wall! You don’t know how badly that you have hurt me!”

Sirius quickly frowned. His hopeful mood was going to anger.

“Well, my life has been a fucking picnic!”

You winced, forgetting how loud he was when angry.

“Isn’t that lovely? I don’t know what you are expecting from me…”

Sirius clenched his right fist trying to hold back any venom that wanted to spill out of his mouth.

“I want to be a part of yours and Harry’s life...the way that I was supposed to.”

You shook your head.

“I have raised that boy on my own!”

“And you weren't supposed to.”

Sirius said, sadly. You looked down at your feet for a few moments before looking back to your fuming lover.

“That's what you get for messing with dark arts.”

Sirius went if possible redder with rage. For a moment, you wondered if he was going to come after you. Remus came popping back in.

“Okay. Okay! Happy catching up time is now over!”

Sirius turned his glare one his one remaining friend.

“She’s impossible!”

He turned and stormed from the room leaving you looking at the place he stood. Remus groaned before gently touching the small of your back.

“Come on, let's get you settled.”

_______

@cardboardbenmazzello (here’s another one to give a shot)

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@summer-novak

@emiwrites3reads

@wontlookaway

@shitfaceddaniel

@stuckinsaudi1

@marichromatic

@maggiolim

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@shaylybaby2032

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@knight-of-gleefulness

@deanwherescas

@sprnaturallover

#Harry Potter #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x Reader #Reader x Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Harry Potter AU #molly weasley #arthur weasley #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #harry potter fan fiction #aidan turner as Sirius Black #The Fall #ourloveisforthelovely

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 3 of 4 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."

His soul almost stops at that sentence, yet he tries not to let it show. Based on how charmed (Y/N) was around monsters who weren't heavily involved with the intentions of the Royal Guard, Sans assumes they're lying for the sake of not letting Roger down. He observes and listens to their exchange by the side, only intervening when he's escorted with them into the shop.

Before arriving at the counter, he brings up that sentence and the meaning behind it. He has some confidence as to what their reply will be, but when they actually speak up, it only complicates his thoughts and the pace of his soul more. "I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but… In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down."

He'd hit the nail in the head.

But what was the reason behind their doubts?

Did they feel forced to go out with him, simply for having gotten to know Frisk during their journey?

It didn't feel that way, yet he didn't exactly know them well enough to be one-hundred percent sure of those assumptions. For all he knew, they could be pretending and trying to get along with him just for the sake of Frisk's happiness and the rest of their monster friends. It wasn't safe to cross out that possibility yet.

A bunnywoman greets him and he words out his orders, saying (Y/N)'s, then his, and finally Frisk's to-go. He can see the human's wallet already in hand, though they hold it back when he's directed with them to a table, no upfront payment needed. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's," they add, sitting down and facing their lap.

At that, his curiosity rises, and he can't help asking them for a little more detail. "What do you mean?"

They fidget before answering. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."

"Why?" The monster wants to disappear with how abrupt, rude, and plain nosy that question comes out. Knowing he's already screwed up and not wanting to ruin things further by making them angry, he hurries to elaborate his question better, saying, "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?" He breathes out as subtly as possible, relieved to see them nod.

A brown bear appears, referring to himself as the waiter in charge of the table for today. He's in formal wear, something the human seems to be charmed by; it's an undoubtedly similar look to when they didn't want to disappoint the rabbit. They continue when the bear leaves, words once more catching the skeleton off guard. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" They keep quiet for a while, making his doubts return. He's worried he's asking questions far too personal for them to be in any way comfortable with him, but they don't stop with their answers. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed. I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." They sound more at ease the further they talk, helping calm some of his own tension down. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements."

That seems to be the final drop in the bucket for them to expose their heart out to him. Words practically flow out of their mouth as they continue to explain the reasons behind their self-imposed limitations. They tell him of Jerry and their relationship with him post-divorce, of those six years without dating anyone, and over the responsibility they felt was on their shoulders ever since Jerry stopped acting as a father for Frisk. He's irked with everything they say -- especially the last part -- but again, he tries not to let his emotions show too much, wanting to listen to them instead.

As they speak, Sans wonders whether it's okay to continue being all chill and buddy-buddy with Jerry, now knowing him in a different light. The guy was fun to be around with, and he was truthfully the one who'd given him a push to make a move on (Y/N), but he couldn't bring himself to meet up with him again without wanting to use the same sense of judgment he specialized in at the Underground. He was strict and stern when it came to the consequences of others' actions just as he was when it came to judging himself for his own choices in both past and present times.

If Jerry was well-aware he wasn't ready to be a father, then why did he still agree on (having/adopting) a child?

Had it been an unforeseen result, or was there more to it?

A piece of information slips by, though (Y/N) doesn't seem to catch onto it. After the words 'I let him go', follow: "I, well… I was over the moon when he said we could be parents, and I didn't really think about his real feelings about the situation the second he said we could give it a try, so it's… It's primarily my fault all of this happened, either way. I- I should've paid more attention and discussed the situation with him more properly." A bitter smile shows on their face. "Children aren't pets, and even pets aren't that easy of a responsibility, either. I… I should've stopped to think about that choice some more before immediately assuming we were both ready, once he... once he brought up the possibility of us being parents."

Based on how little they react after that confession, it's plain evident they haven't noticed they've let that information slip past, so he chooses not to bring it up. To make up for it, Sans intervenes when he notices they're too caught up in wanting to make things right all in one day. He steps in with his own view on the subject so far, saying, "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He pauses, picking up a fork and piercing it through his dish. Then, he faces (Y/N), continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option, though."

They face away and pick up a portion of their dessert along the way. With how calm they look right now, he wonders how they would react had he chosen to bring up the fact they'd just confessed something far too personal in the midst of them being honest with him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." They take a bite.

Sans tries to look away from their lips, not wanting to make himself come off as an indecent person by staring there for too long. While they were dressed far more strikingly and looked far more cheerful compared to previous times, that's no excuse for him to stare, and even less at their face. They were here wearing their heart out on their sleeve for him. Taking advantage of that with any sort of flirting or advancements simply didn't feel right presently.

He offers his point-of-view, only to be interrupted by what he fears is trouble lurking right behind (Y/N)'s back. There's two human men standing close by, pointing at their waist and muttering comments about how 'chunky' they are and how small the off-brand 'Grim Reaper on vacation prop' sitting with them is. He waits and keeps an eye socket out for the two as he continues, only to be interrupted by a loud comment from one of the pair not long after.

"Hey, Kevin," the burliest one of the two says, voice irritatingly loud. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?"

Laughter follows and the lankier one replies with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"

Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what Sans can only interpret as his own voice with how exaggeratedly rough and Batman-with-a-cold deep it sounds, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"

More laughter.

"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Brayan snorts at that -- obnoxiously rather than cutely. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"

"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!

"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"

Just as the skeleton expects to be pushed off his chair, his company intervenes by standing up and approaching the man about to send him to the ground. Their stance is firm and their gaze is pissed, the light in their eyes far different from when they snapped at his own flirting. They grab the man by the arm, but it doesn't take much for him to retaliate and seek out help from his partner-in-crime. Far-too soon, a splash is heard and the skeleton sees (Y/N)'s shirt drenched, an empty glass being held by one of the two men still standing nearby.

Now his turn to act, Sans takes advantage of free Karma and tosses both his drink and theirs at the man responsible for throwing one at (Y/N). The rest is a blur as he pays more attention to them and their condition. Only the comments Kevin and Brayan made about them and the drink thrown at them stay in his mind, occupying the rest of his thoughts. He takes a towel and wraps it around their torso, being extra cautious not to brush his hands anywhere improper, something better said than done with his current situation. They're soaked from neck to waist, the subtle warmth emerging from their body making him further concerned by assuming the drink was still fresh.

"Was it hot?"

With that question, he receives yet another surprise, both in words and the bold look they give him along with it. "No," he hears (Y/N) say, grinning bright and wide as a subtle, flirty curve shows on their smile. "But you worrying about me kinda is."

His soul lurches at the feeling of their lips on his cheekbone. It's a sensation far too soft for him to have ever been prepared for it, and it's made a lot more intense when they drag the kiss all the way to his ear cavity, lips brushing against his face as they whisper him a 'thank you'. His hands are firm on their waist as the crowd cheers on. It's only when he backs away and lets go of the towel that he can escape from the situation, plopping back down on his chair to recover from it.

• • •

With the remnants of the earlier incident, it’s a different experience giving the human a ride to his home. The skeleton's now overly alert of everything around him, from their hands around his waist to the rumbling of other engines near him. Thankfully, a cloudy sky, strong winds, and a light drizzle aid as a distraction. He dodges busy streets by taking detours wherever possible, and he focuses on one thing only: getting there before the rain pours any harder. While the helmet shields most of it away, the roar of the clouds above alerts him and seemingly the one holding onto him, based on how they press closer and ask if he’s okay.

“Wouldn’t it be better to stop?” they suggest, voice muffled from too many things at once. There’s the rain picking up, other vehicles zooming past, and the warning of future thunder from the clouds. Add in the helmets, and it’s a necessity for him to take a turn and park by the emergency lane.

The stillness of his surroundings helps provide a better look at the options nearby. Four were available, the last of them the most risky. It was either turn left and stop at a gas station, turn right and stop at an inn, go back and stop at the nearest shopping district available, or continue forward without any proper sense of direction.

Just as he’s imagining there’s no way (Y/N) could be any bolder than they had been with their kiss, they say, “Let’s stop by the inn.” Their smile quells any hidden meanings. Their tone, on the other hand, has plenty left to be said. “It’s the closest option there is, and judging by the situation up there, it’s the best one, too.”

Right.

He scolds himself mentally for letting his imagination run too far.

Of course, it was his fear of thunder they were referring to!

What else could it have been?

“Alright,” he says, giving in with a huff. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah,” they reply, shrugging. “It's getting darker, and the weather’s not too good. I’ll just call Undyne and let her know we'll be returning a little later than expected."

The monster finally grins at that and props the motorcycle back into shape. “You’re being awfully chill about this whole thing, pal.” He jolts when their hands find their place around him once more, settled down when he hears them laugh, airiness present in their tone. They rest their head closer to his shoulder, helmet bumping with his. “Gettin’ real comfy around me, too.”

They pull back, a frown heard in their question, “Would you like me to stop?”

He shakes his head, bringing them closer at a red light. “Not at all.”

Their laughter sounds again, more cheerful and light. Had he no context of where they'd been before the ride, he would’ve assumed they'd taken a drink too many. To see them relax and play along was about as rare as a day not passing by without the sudden awfulness of the weather. It’s been worsening, yet he can’t quite determine why exactly. There were plenty of factors contributing to it, one of the most common being the current season, and the most uncommon somehow related to the accusations monsters received about the bad weather being all their fault.

Flashing, neon lights greet the skeleton when he parks close to the inn, right below a tent made specifically for keeping customers' vehicles out of the bad weather. ‘Open 24/7. Vacant. Family Friendly. Monster Friendly. Absolutely NO pest problem. Suspicious wall stains are actually retro wallpaper patterns, not blood,' and a bunch more other things blare at him in bright lettering. There’s tiny wording at the bottom of the word ‘Inn’, reading: ‘formerly a criminal hideout’, in parentheses.

Sans expects all but more stifled laughter from (Y/N)’s mouth. When he looks towards them, he sees they've already taken their helmet off, revealing teary eyes and a smile. “What's next?” they ask, giggling. “Bet now the hotel guy'll say: ��Sorry, we’ve only got one room left’.” They take him by the arm and lead him in as soon as the rain pours completely, their laughter drowning out as thunder clashes from nearby. “C’mon,” they call out, tugging him in. “You’ll get sick!” The door jingles as he passes through with them by his side, revealing a lobby far more decent than the outside suggests. “See that? It’s gonna be fine!"

He doesn't say anything and instead lets himself be tugged along. If he'd annoyed them too much with his flirting and this was the world's way of punishing him for it, he accepted it despite what that was doing to his soul. He accompanies them to the registration counter, where an even worse problem waits.

"Welcome!" Mettaton calls out, greeting both him and the human next to him with a smile. Funky music plays on the radio, matching almost eerily with his gaze and the purpose behind his smile. "Room for two, I assume?" He takes out a log book, and a calculative frown shows on his face as he taps his chin with the pen, a smile returning when he looks up. "...Either way, I'm afraid that's all we have right now."

His companion snorts (cutely, in comparison to Brayan), though they cover it up when he tries to get a better look at them, seeing a smile still on. "Told you so," they say, jabbing his waist. They then turn over to the robot, seriousness falling on their face. "We'd like to book it for a night, please."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Note

This chapter was originally meant to be only 2 parts long, but the request seen here (an older one, as it was suggested in the first version of this fanfic) ended up enriching the story's plot wayyy more than I thought, lol.

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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godkilller · 3 years

Note

✵ YOUR TURN BITCH

send ✵ and my muse will answer the following.

Their first impression of your muse:

GIN’S FIRST IMPRESSION OF AIZEN was swift and resolute: he’s the one in charge, he’s the one I want to kill. Little Gin was able to assess that Aizen was not simply some higher-up grunt in the gang of Shinigami he saw out in the woods whilst out collecting firewood. No, he could tell by Aizen’s demeanor, his presence, and the way the others essentially cowered while bowing to him that this guy meant fucking business, so Gin returned that sentiment in kind: it was on sight for Gin, a vow of betrayal and murder was born within the bushes that night. The first time they exchange words -- roughly a year later -- it’s under a similar moonlit night, and Gin has blood and a grin on his face. Aizen awakened within Gin a murderous thing, a boy who once offered food and shelter and kindness ( then the day we met’ll be your birthday, how’s that sound, Rangiku? ) became Hypponzashi, already had a bodycount by the time he picked up an actual zanpakuto, ripping through the Academy, youngest Shinigami to enter the Gotei 13 ( younger than Hiyori, technically ) and ripping through that Third Seat Aizen threw his way like it was nothing.

Are you proud of what you created, Aizen?

Current impression:

Gin respects Aizen, when you untangle that sentiment away from the hatred, the hyperawareness of Aizen’s every harm, every misstep, every word toiling away in Gin’s mind as he seeks to understand the most misunderstood and isolated Shinigami of his generation -- bridge the gap, be different than how Shinji tried to understand Aizen, delve into his motives, and how Urahara for all of his wit and foresight couldn’t bear to presume Aizen’s intent ---- and to not fall into the doe-eyed admiration and adoration of Hinamori Momo, oh no, Gin mustn’t bow down akin to Tousen nor quiver in submission like the Espada. HE MUST BE MORE, HE MUST KNOW AIZEN MORE. Understanding what Aizen was lacking from the people surrounding him, picking at what the man yearned for; by showcasing this attention to detail, it presents the undeniable truth that Gin and Aizen are compatible, they’re similar because Gin molded himself to that. And oh, did Gin truly dive right the fuck in, and intertwined himself like a serpent coiling lovingly around their prey -- the murderous intent -- there are thorns of respect, a different brand of love even, all woven into the way Gin views Aizen. Gin isn’t always seething with rage at the man, after all. They’re equals, in many cases, or Aizen’s his captain again and he’s watching his back ( or lurking at it ) and they’re partners in crime, it’s very much an ‘us vs. them’ light with them at times ---- and Gin has to admit that IT’S FUN ---- his humor’s rubbed off on Aizen, and they’ll make each other chuckle and smile and it’s so utterly exciting to have someone as intelligent as Aizen to bounce off of, Gin’s genius is thriving; AIZEN NEVER BORES HIM.

Gin can be at the top of the world, swept away into the facade and consumed by the banter and bickering, the bloodshed and the long nights spent scheming about other’s lives akin to pieces on a chess board. Gin wouldn’t have gotten as close as he got to Aizen without thinking alike, and understanding Aizen’s point of view. Gin’s absorbed so much of Aizen, quietly, observations and adjustments made to his act until he felt it was natural. Gin faked it till he made it. Gin doesn’t know who he would’ve been without Aizen in his life, and ultimately can’t even begin to comprehend a guess. It’s easier this way, it’s easier to just keep submerging than try to swim to the surface. He’s gotten so good at holding his breath.

Gin’s tether in this hurricane, however, always remained Rangiku. He can’t fall all the way, even if he believes he has, even if he thinks he’s sunken so fucking low and gone too far for too long with Aizen, AIZEN WILL NEVER HAVE ALL OF GIN THANKS TO HER.

Are they attracted to your muse?:

Have you seen Aizen? Gin isn’t blind. But he’ll play the part; we don’t want Aizen’s ego getting any bigger, do we? Or maybe he could play that angle, swoon just a little -- in that case Gin’ll shoot for his head, it’ll be so enlarged and impossible to miss.

Something they find frightening about your muse:

IT’S COMPLICATED. Gin acknowledges that Aizen’s scary, he’s not dumb; a wise fighter knows when to nod to their enemy when they’re a strong one. Gin’s unsettled when Aizen begins the evolutionary process against Urahara and co. and is visibly shaken when Aizen doesn’t heed his warnings and destroys the sweeper with a fucking look. That’s one of the two moments Gin ever looks afraid. And it’s not necessarily out of self-preservation, it’s not like Gin’s going ‘aw fuck I’m screwed’ it’s more of a ‘what have you become?’ sentiment at Aizen. Gin makes commentary about how ‘Aizen snuck that thing into his chest when I wasn’t lookin’, can’t be helped’ and it’s... remorseful, and anxiously spoken -- in Gin-speak -- of course it’s not blatantly said in such a way, but in a throwaway manner of ‘casually not worried about it’ because Gin’ll be damned if he says such a vulnerable thing to Ichigo.

Gin admits to those worries when he’s about to activate Shinso’s poison in Aizen’s heart.

In my post-Winter War canon divergent verses, Gin does have nightmares about Aizen’s deformations, the way he writhed and became so far from what Gin had become so attuned to. This was not the Aizen which Gin had meticulously memorized, learned, since he was a boy. This was not the Aizen he knew, marching through an insignificant town, hunting insignificant kids, wanting to slaughter them and hang their bodies for Ichigo to find? At least with destroying Momo, it could have been argued as necessary to shatter Hitsugaya Toshiro’s heart, render a captain of the Gotei 13 useless or too emotionally charged to properly fight. Which is what happened anyways, but if Aizen had actually ‘sliced her into pieces’ it still would have served a purpose. Aizen was going to destroy Karakura Town anyways, why hunt a few human teenagers to specifically kill only to nuke the town their bodies are hanging in moments later?

Aizen could be a cruel man, yes, but that was wrathful. Gin feared Aizen the moment he began wildly and carelessly throwing his power around, the sweeper, the random passerby whom died when they got too close to him, the Karakura kids... Aizen was becoming the same indifferent and heartless man that he loathed the Soul King for being.

Something they find adorable about your muse:

You wore fake fucking glasses you fucking nerd lmfao. Lookit me I’m cap’n Aizen I’m not like OTHER captains, I got hipster glasses ‘n messy hair, I am utterly unique! One of a kind!!!

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:

I mean, canonly that’s certainly an angle. Gin’s death symbolizes Aizen’s ascension into a higher being, the final step he needed to reach that indescribable power. Without it, Aizen would have died to Ichigo’s Final Getsuga Tenshou, among other things perhaps, etc. etc. ...

Would my muse go on a date with yours? platonic/romantic:

Buy me fUCKING dinner. Okay, but I can see Gin humoring outings with the guy, platonic or otherwise no-named endeavors. He’ll coo and bat his eyes; if Aizen wants to play this card, Gin won’t back down. As always, he’ll meet it halfway or more. Oh, y’wanna take me out? I’m glad that you’re finally seein’ the light with how irresistible I am, go on, pamper me. I ain’t easy, though. YOU CAN LOOK BUT NOT TOUCH. Try anythin’ on the first night ‘n I’ll gut ya. <3333

One word my muse would use to describe yours:

Asshole. Arrogant. Self-Absorbed. Hypocrite. Selfish. Pathetic. Sad. Desolate.

Would my muse slap yours if they could?:

A left hook sounds much more enticing, but sure, Gin can slap too -- unless Aizen’s into that, then Gin’s kicking between the legs at full force.

Would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

Gin’s not the hugging type, but he’ll drape himself onto Aizen’s shoulder or in general invade the man’s personal space ( oh, I’m sorry, am I makin’ you uncomfortable? ) among other things. Gin’s like a cat, he’ll do as he pleases and seemingly be open to any and all contact when it’s lowkey inconvenient for Aizen at the time, or at least a little distracting. And the moment Aizen wraps his arms around Gin or goes for a kiss when Gin isn’t interested, it’s claws and teeth --

#keikakudori #[ headcanon ] fresh snowfall; fading footprints mark his path #my reply got shorter in each section as i kept going sbdhrftjgv #MY BRAIN GOT TIRED I CANNOT FATHOM THEIR COMPLEXITIES PAST A CERTAIN POINT.

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isthatyouharrington · 5 years

Text

Lifeguard Billy

REQUEST : Hey! Would you be able to do one along the lines of billy noticing reader every time she goes to the pool but reader is the sister of Steve so that can either make billy wanna stay away (but he can’t help himself) or make him even more attracted to reader bc he’s want to piss off steve?

Yes yes yes. I love this already. Here we go! It’s long and what not but PLEASE let me know if you want a part 2 of this :D

Warnings : slight smut, language

Tag list : @dreaminfinitynbeyond869 @powerstrangerdacre

This summer had been hot, more hot than any other that you could remember. You and your friends had been at the pool almost every day since school let out. You much like your brother, Steve, were pretty popular. You were only a year younger than Steve but EVERYONE referred to you as Harrington’s little sister, which got on your nerves. You were your own person. You didn’t want to be compared to him, because even though he was a great brother you were nothing like him.

About three weeks into summer and a very hot day, you noticed him. Billy Hargrove. Of course you knew him. Who didn’t. Not to mentioned he’d rearranged Steve’s face earlier in the year. You didn’t swoon over him like all the other girls at Hawkins high and some of the moms that sat near the lifeguard stand. You had to admit he was good looking.

You sat on your chair, reading one of your summer reading books and sipping from a cherry coke when you looked up at the stand. There he was, looking at YOU. You knew you should look away but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Then a shrill blow from a whistle across the pool on the other lifeguard stand sounds. You jump and spill your coke all down your front. You gasped. The soda was ice cold and now running down your chest. You sat up, setting the drink down down and looking for a towel only to realize you didn’t pack one. “Dammit.” You huff.

Then out of no where one appears in front of you. You looking up to see Billy standing over you. You can feel your face turning red. Not just at the fact that you’re covered in soda but more so the face that he’d obviously seen you spill it all over yourself. You reach out and take the towel. “Thank you.” You tell you before trying to pat yourself dry.

He smirked and nodded. “No problem.” Billy tells you softly. You notice that he’s chewing gum. Which he made hot. Some how. You smiled at him, your cute little smiled. That seemed to make him smirk even more. “You’re Harrington’s sister right?” He asked.

This made your smile fall. You sighed and rolled your eyes. Grabbing the towel and slipping on your sandals, you move to get up and shove passed him. “Woah, hey hey hey.” Billy said, gently grabbed your arm to stop you. “Struck a nerve now did I, Little Harrington?” He asked.

You glare up at him. “It’s y/n.” You say harshly. “We’re not even that far apart in age.” You shook your head.

Billy just smirked. “If it makes you less upset. I like you better, y/n.” He whispered in your ear. This sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help it. The way he said your name. Part of you knew that he was probably talking to you because he knew it would piss Steve off. Another part of you didn’t really care.

You looked up at him. “I AM the better Harrington, Billy.” You telling him before walking off. You could feel him staring at you as you made your way to the locker room.

You left an hour or so later, your friends taking you home. You sat on the couch, eating from a Scoops Ahoy container you’d found in the freezer. Your parents were at a movie and Steve was still at work. You were watching some show on tv.

You’d just started dozing off when the doorbell rang. You shot up. “What the hell?” He you looked at the time. Again the door bell rang. “I’m coming.” He sighed as he got up and made your way to the door. When you opened it your eyes widened. Billy stood in the doorway. “Uh hi???” He asked confused.

He smiled. “Tommy H. gave me the address.” Of course he did. “You left this at the pool. I told my boss I would return it to you.” Billy said holding out the book you’d been reading at the pool. He you look down at it.

“I could have gotten tomorrow you know?” You said as he took it. He looked at you with that damn smiled and nodded.

“I know, y/n.” He replied. “I just wanted to see you again. Apologize for earlier.” He moved closer and you stepped back some. He leaned against the door. “I’ve been watching you at the pool. I wanna get to know you.” Billy said before licking his lips.

Your breath hitched. You know this was all his gave. He didn’t want to get to know you. He wanted to get you into bed, more so because he knew how much it would piss your brother off. Again you knew this and yet you couldn’t help not having a problem with it. You weren’t a good girl. You’d never been one. “You want some ice cream?” You smirked.

He smirked back at you and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. You reached out and took his hand. “Come on.” You said pulling him up the stairs.

Billy looked around. “The ice cream’s upstairs. That’s weird.” He said with a chuckled. You looked back at him and rolled your eyes. You tugged him on the stair case and down the hall. Passed your parents room, then your brother’s. You pushed opened your door. Your heart raced as you felt his hands on your hips. You leaned back into him. His lips met your neck and you let out a soft moan. You can feel his smirk.

“You sure about this, y/n?” He asked, his lips grazing your ear. You let out a breath and smirked, nodding your head before turning to face him.

“I’m not a good girl, Billy. I want you to know that. I know you only want me to piss off Steve and if I’m being honestly I really don’t care.” You shook your head.

Billy looked at you with blue eyes. “Well if I am being honestly. Yeah the idea of screwing Steve’s sister to piss him sounds great, but that isn’t the only reason. I think you’re beautiful, like crazy hot. You’re smart too. I like that and I can see that you’re not a good girl, y/n.” He tells you.

You inhale sharply and bring your hands to his face, pressing your lips to his, hard. He returns the kiss with just as deeply. You bite at his bottom lip and he lets out a groan. Billy’s hands move to your backside and you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist. He moved forward and you both fell into your bed.

You break apart to as he lift your shirt up over your head, an old Hawkin’s Middle School AV Club shirt. It’s tossed aside and Billy smirked seeing that you didn’t have a bra on. Right away his lips found your nipples and you moaned loudly. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling at the curls. He let out another groan and you tugged harder.

His hands found your hands and quickly pinned them over your head. He looked up at him, shocked at the sudden action. He loosened his grip and grinds his hips into yours. A louder moan escaped your lips.

A door slams down stairs. “Y/N!” Steve calls loudly. He wasn’t happy you could tell.

“FUCK!” You say pushing Billy off you. “You need to leave. “Out the window.” Billy looked at you as you pulled your shirt back on.

“I thought you didn’t care if he knew?” Billy pushed his hair back. You got on your knees and moved down your bed.

“I know, but if he sees you right now he’s gonna get really mad and TRY to kick your ass….again.” You tells him. “We didn’t even get to the fun stuff yet. “Just go alright. I’ll see you tomorrow at the pool.” You smirked.

Billy sighed and moved to the window opening it and climbing out. There’s a knock at your door and you sigh getting up to open it. “What do you want?” He asked. Steve looked around your room then at your.

“Why is Billy Hargrove’s Camaro outside?” He glared at you. In his hand was a bat with nails in the end.

“Jesus Christ Steve, I don’t know. Where the fuck did you get that bat!? What? Were you planing to beat him with it?” You cross your arms over your chest. Outside there’s the very loud sound of Billy’s Camaro speeding off into the night and you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

#billy hargrove smut #Billy Hargrove #billy hagrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #st imagine #stranger things imagine #dacre montgomery imagine

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sparrellow · 4 years

Text

diamrem

Rin was not the Little Mermaid, not an Ariel, not some tragic, beautiful fish-girl. However, she was cursed, and she was doomed to be half-fish for the rest of her life (barring some miracle happening before she turned 18).

rating: T genre: romance/fantasy/fluff/humor/a smidge of angst ships: primarily rin/len, a whiff of gumi/miku words: 8,458

No one knew how, or when, or where, Rin’s family’s curse began.

Her mother went through it. And her mother’s father went through it. And her mother’s father’s mother went through it, too. But the curse always followed the same set of rules: don’t touch water in front of another human, and fall in love before the age of 18 unless you want to be a half-fish forever.

They were both the most challenging set of rules to follow, especially with unpredictable weather, compulsory school swimming carnivals and a face only a mother could love. Rin only had about 15 seconds flat to dry herself before turning to some human-experiment-with-tuna-gone-wrong in front of every other person around her.

Bath times were not fun, and required some tricky maneuvering with a wet towel and a bathtub and lightning-fast reflexes.

Thank god her family doctor didn’t ask questions when giving her a note to excuse her from any water-related activities she had to participate in at school, having been familiar with her mother’s ‘afflictions’. (He probably knew more than what he was letting on, and god knows what her mother had said to persuade him). Something something ‘severely allergic to the chemicals in water’ did the trick, usually.

But of course. Then there was… the uh, sad Swan Princess-like situation with her falling in love with someone before the age of 18, or else becoming a mermaid forever. And it couldn’t be like, a fake or forced or one-sided situation. It had to be, like, real -real love. Like the other party had to feel actual romantic love for you, and you had to reciprocate it.

That was, um, big yikes. Rin had pretty much signed that off as impossible, considering her ‘puberty glow-up’ was yet to come and she was nearing her 18th birthday very soon. Besides, the boy she’d been pining for for the past, uh, eleven-or-so years was so much as oblivious to her affections.

Oh, woe.

Her mother had tried her best to comfort her and guide her to a more positive way of thinking, claiming, “You never know what’s right around the corner.” But her birthday was now ‘right around the corner’, so all hope was dwindling fast.

She wouldn’t even get to graduate high school. That was sad. Plus, the seaside near her town was definitely not nice, and the thought of having to swim in that polluted hot-mess made her feel even more miserable than before.

This curse sucked. (But that was the point of a curse, she supposed).

When her friends at school asked her what she wanted for her birthday during November, she couldn’t help but answer with somewhat cynicism, “True love’s first kiss.”

Gumi blinked at her, before turning to look at Len, who seemed to be taking her answer very seriously. He tilted his head, then asked Gumi, “Is it a perfume or makeup brand or something…?”

Rin wanted to slap him for being so… so Len, but Gumi just gave him this look. “Do you have peas for a brain? The girl meant a literal first kiss.” She then thought for a moment. “Although, that’s a super out-of-character request from you, Rin.”

“It’s complicated,” was Rin’s simple, yet vague, answer, before she turned away to lean her head on her palm and look out the window like a pensive anime school boy.

Her friends were discussing something heatedly with each other under their breaths for a moment, but she wasn’t bothering to eavesdrop. Gumi knew as much that Rin had a very sad crush on Len, but she was a good enough person to never tell. Come to think of it, the girl knew a lot of people’s secrets.

Hmm.

Len stepped around into her field of vision with a very serious expression. “Do you mean a thimble?”

“Enough already!” Gumi barked, yanking him backwards by the collar. “You don’t need to answer that.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said.

Gumi’s eyebrows met in the middle of her forehead, a concerned look crossing her face. But before she could mention what was on her mind, the homeroom bell rang, and the pair had to skedaddle back to their desks, probably up in arms trying to figure out her cryptic request.

But it was alright. Rin already knew she wasn’t going to get it.

She was going to be a fish.

“You know, you’ve… seemed kind of down, lately,” Gumi said offhandedly one afternoon, as they were taking a drink break during track and field club.

Len was off goofing around with some other boys in the club, currently in headlock and receiving a noogie from fellow classmate, Kaito.

Rin took a sip of her water, careful not to pour it down the front of herself and cause panic. “I’ve just got things on my mind,” she said. “18th birthdays are pretty big in my family.”

Gumi raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Tradition or something.” Of course, Rin hadn’t told anyone the truth. Everyone thought she was just kind of odd and hated swimming. Even though she trusted Gumi, a big ball of everyone’s secrets, she just couldn’t imagine the absurdity of such a situation, and that daunted her a little. Besides, she was kind of embarrassed by the whole fish-body thing. It wasn’t as cute as it looked in movies.

She still didn’t know how her mum broke the news to her dad about the whole curse-thing, especially since it would also affect their children. She’d never even gotten around to really asking about how it all went down.

“I didn’t realise it was big for you,” Gumi said, tucking her knees up to her chest and casting a look over at Len being a gremlin with the other kids. “Is that why you came out with the whole true love’s first kiss thing?”

Rin nodded.

“Are your parents going to like, betroth you to some random guy or something if you don’t find a boyfriend beforehand?”

Rin snorted. “No. No. Thankfully, no,” she said. “It’s nothing like that.”

Gumi eyed her. “Alright. As long as you’re not being forced into some child-bride situation.”

“I’m not,” Rin said, giving her a solemn look. “I’m not. Seriously.”

Her friend then smirked a little, looking back over at the other club members. Len was now doing handstands and showing off to the underclassmen. Some girls were cooing over him or something.

“So, what about Len?” Gumi asked, sounding very casual although it was definitely a strategic maneuver.

“What about what about Len?” Rin asked back.

“Why not confess to him? If you’re so worried about the whole true love kiss thing?”

Rin hated how Gumi suggested it so smoothly, like it was absolutely nothing, but she knew this girl had it planned. She frowned. “Confess to him? Are you mad? I’d rather stick my hand into a bouquet of cacti.”

“Why not?” Gumi pushed, glancing back at her. “Who’s to say it would turn out poorly?”

“What, did you ask him if he’d say yes?” Rin raised an eyebrow at her.

Gumi smiled coolly. “No. But you know, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Rin huffed. “It would hurt my feelings.”

Of course, the conversation ended there because Len came jogging over to flop down ungracefully onto the grass beside them. After taking some huge gulps of water from his bottle, he looked over at them with a grin.

“What’s up, ladies?”

“The sky,” Rin and Gumi answered in unison.

“Did I interrupt an important discussion, or something?” he asked, sensing the remnants of Rin’s discomfort.

Gumi didn’t wait for Rin to answer. “Just girl things,” she said.

Len screwed up his face, pretending to be disgusted. “Eww.”

“Periods, periods, periods,” Rin then chanted. “Boobs, boobs, boobs.”

“Hey, I’ll always join a conversation about boobs,” he said, earning him a whack over the head from Gumi. He winced, but kept his grin the whole time.

“Well, unfortunately you and I don’t have much to bring to the table, so Gumi’s the boob expert here,” Rin jested.

Len took another swig of water, swallowed hard, then said without the bat of an eyelid, “Small boobs are just as valid as big ones, Rin.”

Gumi applauded slowly. “Wow, an award-winning statement from Mr. Len here. Making those girls swoon.”

He winked at her. “You know I’m a chick magnet.”

“Unfortunately,” the two girls chorused, both unimpressed by his confidence.

“Okay, okay. Today’s Pick On Len Day. Fine. I get it,” Len said, rolling his eyes. He tossed his bottle to the ground and stood, stretching his legs. “Watch me go beat my track record,” he added over his shoulder before running off to join the group.

Gumi looked at Rin with a sly expression, before jumping up to jog after him.

Rin rolled her neck and sighed, following suit.

It came very suddenly.

One day at lunch, Len said, with a mouthful of fried rice, “You know, Miku’s kind of cute.”

Rin choked on her broccoli and Gumi paused, chopsticks stuck in her mouth as she looked at him with wide eyes.

Len blinked innocently. Rin reached for her water through a coughing fit and Gumi set down her chopsticks to pat her on the back.

“What makes you say that, Len?” Gumi said, sounding very confused.

He shoved another spoonful of rice into his gob and leaned his head on his hands, looking over at said classmate—a very pretty girl with long, teal pigtails. “Well, you know, just look at her.”

Rin was stewing. This was like a double-whammy punch to the gut. Her appetite for lunch had completely vanished.

They followed his gaze and watched the girl, who was chatting with her friends across the classroom. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then, as if sensing their eyes on her, glanced over in their direction.

Len gave a friendly wave, and Miku smiled back sheepishly.

Oh no.

“I… guess,” Gumi grumbled, turning away. Her ears were pink.

“Don’t you think so too, Rin?” Len asked, now looking at her.

Rin was packing away her half-eaten lunch. Hesitating, she chewed on her lip. She could be petty and disagree, but what would that do? Besides, it was true. Miku was super cute. “Er… yeah,” she answered.

“Do you know if she’s dating anyone?” Len continued, unknowingly driving the knife deeper into the wound.

Gumi cleared her throat. “No. She’s not.”

Len seemed pleased by this answer. “Hmm.”

It was then Gumi looked over at Rin, with a somewhat apologetic look. What was happening here?

Rin took the initiative, biting down on her wound. “So, you want to ask her out?” she asked in a weak voice.

Len burst into laughter. Nervous laughter? Rin couldn’t tell. But his outburst seemed to have surprised Gumi, too. “What? Me? Ask her out? No,” he said. “I’m probably not even her type.” This time he looked straight at Gumi.

Rin opened her mouth. “Okay. So… why…”

“Len,” Gumi interrupted, in a tone that meant business. “Can you walk me to the vending machine downstairs? Those creepy guys are bothering me again.”

Len raised his eyebrows. “Again? I thought they’d been dealt with.”

“Well,” she said. “It’s happening again and I’m thirsty. Please.”

He shrugged, muttering something under his breath Rin didn’t quite catch, and the pair of them then disappeared, leaving her to sit alone and wallow in her feelings.

Well. That was a bad time.

Rin wiped her mouth with her handkerchief, slid her lunchbox into her bag and wandered off to go cry in the bathroom.

A few days later, Len dropped by her desk between classes and did this strange spin-maneuver before asking her if she wanted to go to the beach on the weekend.

Rin glanced outside, then back at him. “The beach? This weekend?” she echoed. “Len, it’s December. It’s going to be so cold.”

He planted his hands on her desk and rocked back and forth. “So? It’s still nice out.”

“What do you even want to do there?” she asked. “It’s not like we can swim or anything.”

“I dunno. I just thought it’d be a nice break from all the stress of exams. We can hang out. Build sandcastles. Collect seashells. Eat ice-cream. Maybe even visit the aquarium.”

“Eat ice-cream?” Rin felt cold just thinking about it. “I hope you’re ready to share your jacket with me, then.”

Len grinned. “So it’s a yes?”

She sighed. “I suppose. What about Gumi?”

“Oh, right. She said she’s visiting her grandparents this weekend.”

“Sucks,” Rin said.

“What, am I not good enough?” Len joked, faking a pout.

“I need someone to help me pick on you,” she said with a grin.

He pretended to be hurt, gasping and clutching at his chest. “Rin, you’re such a bully. Always picking on me…” Then he switched back to normal mode, as if remembering he still had to go to his next class. “So, Saturday afternoon?”

Rin nodded.

He gave a thumbs up. “Sweet. Let’s head there after club finishes.”

Then Len hurried off to his next class.

Gumi stopped Rin in the hall a few hours later, with her class materials tucked under one arm. She wiggled her eyebrows at her, smirking. “Saturday afternoon, hm?”

“How did you know?” Rin asked, although not surprised she knew as much.

“Oh. He asked me first,” was her simple answer. “Maybe you should… you know.”

“‘You know’ what?”

Gumi made some incomprehensible motion with her free hand. “You know, like… make a move.”

Rin rolled her eyes. “After what happened on Tuesday at lunch?”

“What happened on Tuesday at lunch?” Gumi asked, confused, before she remembered the more-than-awkward conversation. “Oh. Oh. Rin… no. That conversation was… hm. Something different.”

“Something different?” Rin repeated. “Like what? Sounds like the guy has a crush.”

Gumi then massaged her forehead, apparently hard-pressed over this topic. “It’s… no. Not that. I’ll talk to you about it later. After school.”

Rin raised a questioning eyebrow. “Alright.”

They said their goodbyes and went separate ways to their next classes. Of course, Gumi never did follow up on their conversation after school.

Saturday afternoon came in the blink of an eye, and soon Rin was tagging along after Len as they took the bus to the oceanside.

Len was blabbering about some anime he was watching on TV last night, with dudes and swords and swords and dudes. She wasn’t entirely listening, just staring at the side of his face and thinking back to Tuesday’s mishap.

That was when she asked, out of the blue, “Len, do you like Miku?”

Len was caught completely off-guard, stopped his monologue about his sword-dude anime and spluttered, “Um, what? What are you talking about, Rin?”

Rin shifted in her seat, cramming her cold hands between her thighs for warmth. The question had been on her mind all week. It was almost killing her. “You know. You were talking about her a lot at lunch the other day. I thought you might like her.”

He turned red, and began to shake his head, laughing somewhat nervously. “Me? Like Miku? She’s, y’know, pretty and all… but uh…”

She leaned forward in her seat, raising an eyebrow. “You like her.”

“No! I don’t know where you’re getting that, Rin.” He seemed to be getting a little desperate, tugging at his ponytail. He looked at her with a somewhat serious expression. “It wasn’t—I don’t— I don’t like her. I mean, she’s pretty and that’s great, but… I like someone else.”

Two emotions hit Rin at once like trains colliding on a track. One was relief that he didn’t like Miku; the other, a swell of dread in her chest as it dawned on her that he did like someone (and it definitely wasn’t her).

Rin couldn’t help but ask, “Who?”

Len blinked at her, surprised by her lack of shame in asking such a personal question. “Well, that’s a secret. It’s not like you’ve told me who you like, anyway.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s no point in me talking about it to anyone because it’s never going to be reciprocated, anyway,” she muttered. There was a moment of silence between them, before she asked, “Does Gumi know?”

“Um…”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Gumi knows everyone’s secrets. I won’t be offended if you’ve told her already.”

He tugged at his scarf, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Yeah… she knows.”

Rin thought for a moment. Well, if Gumi knew… why would she be encouraging her to ask Len out, knowing she’d be rejected?

Sometimes the logic of that girl made little sense.

“Does she know who you like?” Len asked back.

“Of course she does.”

They fell into silence after that, pondering the many secrets Gumi knew of one other, but never shared.

Eventually, Len started the conversation up again as they got off at their stop. “So,” he began casually, digging his hands into his jacket pockets. “Have you actually got anything you want for your birthday? I’m considering the last answer you gave was a joke.”

It wasn’t, but anyway. “Nope,” Rin said simply.

“Nothing? Not even like, a video game or some jewellery or something?”

A video game couldn’t be played in the sea, and jewellery would only rust, so. “No, nothing at all,” she said.

Len frowned. “Usually you have something you want.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, glancing at the store windows as they walked down the street. The smell of salt was getting stronger, and the wind was picking up. “Not this time.”

“God, you make it hard,” Len said, half-joking, but half-serious. “How about a party? Are you going to have one?”

“Nah,” Rin answered. “I figured this year should be quiet. And no— no surprise party. I’ve already laid that flat with Gumi, too.”

He pouted at her. “You’re no fun.”

Rin looked at him. “Sorry,” she said, in a tone that definitely was not apologetic.

“How about universities,” Len changed the subject. “Have you decided which ones you want to apply for, yet? The deadline is coming soon. Next month.”

To be honest, Rin hadn’t even cast one thought in that direction. Anything beyond her 18th birthday was lost to her. She was completely and utterly mentally prepared to just turn into a fish. University was out of the question.

“I haven’t,” she answered with a sigh. “What about you, though? You wanted to move to a bigger city, right?”

Len nodded. “Yeah, well, can’t stand being here. I was thinking somewhere in Sendai or Sapporo, or maybe even Tokyo, but it sucks knowing you might not be coming with. Gumi’s got her heart set on Sendai, though.”

Rin screwed up her face. “Tokyo’s too big. Sapporo’s nice, though.”

“Yeah? Thinking of a university there?”

“No.”

“Aw.” He bumped shoulders with her as they walked along, the sparkling blue of the sea coming into view. “There it is,” he said, as if witnessing something truly magnificent.

Rin eyed her mortal enemy, the water, as they made their way down to the sand. There were hardly any people around; just two idiots standing on the beach in the middle of winter.

A cool breeze blew through them, and she shivered. God, she was not looking forward to the freezing cold temperatures of the deep blue.

“Frozen yet?” Len asked with a laugh, noticing her folded arms. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heat pack, placing it into her icy hands. It felt so good to touch. “Good thing I brought a few, eh?”

Rin was a fool not to bring them, but that was her. She never prepared for the weather properly at all. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her cheeks burning.

They began their venture down the coast, picking up shells in the sand and tossing rocks into the water. Soon, they reached an empty jetty. They sat on the very end, their legs dangling over the water; a good five-or-so metre drop into the ocean.

She gazed down at the foam as the waves crashed against the muscle-covered posts of the jetty, droplets of seawater almost hitting the soles of her shoes. A part of her just wanted to throw herself in, but with Len there, that wouldn’t be a great situation.

Their shoulders and thighs touched. Len was jiggling his leg against hers, not really bothered by their proximity. Their feet knocked together as they swung them back and forth.

They didn't really talked much, just watched the horizon as the clouds rolled by. Rin had to fight the urge to lean her head on his shoulder. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Rin, she practically yelled at herself, as a wave of sleepiness hit her.

“Hey, Rin,” Len said, his tone a little odd.

“Mm?” Rin answered, her eyelids betraying her.

“Um, you know, I…”

Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by Rin’s yelp of surprise as something launched itself with her back. She almost fell forward, but somehow Len caught her before she toppled completely into the water.

When they turned to look, it was some small, fluffy white thing with a pink tongue and big, dark eyes. Not a moment later, someone came running over, panting.

“I’m so sorry,” the person said, and the voice sounded oddly familiar. “I didn’t realise there would be— oh.”

Both Rin and Len looked up at their face. To Rin’s utter horror, standing behind them… was no one other than Miku.

Miku had recognised them too, and now had a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry,” she apologised again.

Len seemed pleasantly surprised. “Oh! Miku. Fancy seeing you here.”

She laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, yeah. I usually walk my dog along here. But I wasn’t really expecting to see anyone at this time of year.”

Miku’s dog was licking and slobbering all over Rin’s hand. It was cute, but… the situation was not.

Len then stood. Rin followed suit, not wanting to be the only one sitting.

Miku gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry about my dog jumping on you. She gets a little excited about strangers. Not a very good guard dog.”

She returned a polite smile. “It’s fine. What’s her name?”

“Tinkerbell.”

Len snickered. “Cute.”

“Anyway,” Miku said, motioning for Tinkerbell to come over and attaching a leash to her collar. “I’m sorry again for disturbing you two.”

“It’s fine,” Len said with a dismissing wave of his hand. “We were just hanging out." Then he paused, a look crossing his face like he just came up with the most brilliant idea. "Actually, Miku… would you like to grab ice-cream with us?”

Rin was ready to launch herself off the side of the jetty and just let the waves carry her off. This wasn’t how she was expecting her afternoon with Len to turn out. God, what the hell, Len? she wanted to cry.

Was the boy being overly nice or was he like, strategically asking her for ice-cream for… some other reason?

Miku seemed to perk up at Len’s suggestion. “Oh, really? Are you sure? I’d love to!”

“Of course. You’re cool with it, aren’t you, Rin?” Len checked her face with a grin.

Rin didn’t have a choice. She forced a smile and a thumbs up, and announced in her most fake-enthusiastic voice, “Yay, ice-cream!”

So they started their venture back toward the main street in search of some ice-cream. As they walked along the beach, Len and Miku went ahead, deep in conversation about some favourite TV show they had in common.

Rin faded into the background, until reaching a complete stop on the sand. They’d already walked ahead so far, they wouldn’t even notice if she’d left. So she did. She turned and walked the other way, and took the bus home.

She knew it was the wrong thing to do, and when Len called her about half-an-hour later in a panic, thinking she’d been kidnapped or something, she felt even worse than she did before.

“You should’ve said something,” he said. “I was running up and down the beach for about ten minutes calling your name.”

“I’m sorry. It was urgent and I just… didn’t want to interrupt the conversation…” Rin had come up with some pathetic excuse about feeling sick all of a sudden and running off, although that was no better than the truth, probably.

Len sighed, apparently frustrated. “ Rin,” was all he said.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Well, are you home now?” he asked, ignoring the apology.

Her phone had rung just as she was getting off the bus, and now she was walking home. “Almost,” she said.

He was quiet for a moment or two, before he said, “Okay. Well, I hope you feel better soon.” Then he hung up.

Wow. He was definitely pissed.

Rin sniffled and wiped at her eyes, which were starting to leak tears. This sucked. Maybe if she wasn’t a ticking time bomb with this whole ridiculous mermaid curse thing, she’d be okay, the whole situation probably would have never happened, and she wouldn’t be so… pressed and upset about… everything.

She knew Gumi would hear about it, so there was definitely another lecture coming her way. Thinking that just made her cry even more about it though.

When she got home with swollen eyes and a blotchy face, her mum tried to ask about it, but she just told her it was nothing, and crawled into bed and watched sad romance movies all evening.

Gumi did eventually call to lecture her, but it wasn’t as bad as she was expecting. When Monday finally rolled around, Rin anticipated the worst, expecting Len to give her the cold shoulder, but miraculously, the boy just acted as normal.

When Rin was alone with Gumi for a few moments, she asked, “What did you tell him?”

Gumi looked at her innocently. “Hmm?”

“Len doesn’t hate me, despite everything. So what did you say to him?”

She glanced around to check for the boy's presence, before explaining, “I just told him what you told me the other day. About your birthday situation. He seemed to calm down after that. You better be thankful I did damage control for you.”

“I am,” Rin said. “Thank you.”

“You know, he's still in a tizz over your birthday present,” Gumi added. “He wants to buy you something and was trying to get an idea out of you on Saturday. Can’t you just like, give him something? ”

Rin grimaced. “The thing is, I really don’t have anything I want.”

“Jeez, Rin.”

“I know, I know…” she said, hanging her head. “Look, if he’s so adamant about getting me something, can you just make a suggestion to him or whatever? Like, I don’t know, pretend I told you what I want. I don’t really care.”

Gumi gave her a look. “You’re really giving me this power?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, I could literally tell him you want new underwear or something.”

Rin shrugged. “That’s fine.”

Gumi smacked her forehead. “You know, he’d totally try buying you some.”

“Really?” Rin tried to imagine the boy waltzing into a lingerie store, but couldn’t picture it. “I’d think he would turn to ash as soon as he looked at lingerie.”

“You’d be surprised,” was all Gumi said.

Just as the conversation came to a lull, Miku appeared with a worried look on her face.

“Rin!” she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? When you disappeared on Saturday, Len and I were so worried!”

Rin was taken aback by her intense concern, gawking at her face for a moment or two. “Ah… yeah… I’m sorry. I felt sick so I just went home. I’m sorry for not saying anything.”

“Len mentioned something about that,” Miku said. “The poor guy was close to tears before he tried calling you. Well, I’m glad you’re safe and feeling better, at least?”

“Oh. Yeah. I am. Thank you.”

Miku smiled and gave her shoulder two rough pats, before retracting her hand and turning to face Gumi. “Hey Gumi,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Gumi went stiff. “Uh. Hi Miku,” she responded, in a strange monotone voice.

“How was your weekend?” Miku asked.

“It was… um. Fine. And you?”

“Well, I’m sure you just heard about it when I was talking to Rin, but it was good. It was too bad you couldn’t be there too.”

Gumi swallowed. Her ears were turning bright red.

What on earth was Rin witnessing here?

“Yeah,” Gumi said. “It was too bad.”

Miku then cleared her throat, and looked at both of them. “Well, I’ll see you two around!” She gave a wave, then bustled off to do… whatever she was doing.

Rin looked at Gumi, who was still staring off in the direction Miku went, although she was no longer visible. “So, care to explain what just happened?” she asked.

Gumi jumped, turning back to Rin. “Wh— huh?”

She gestured in Miku’s direction. “You know… like. I’m getting some weird vibes from you right now and I’m not really sure what to think of it.”

Gumi shook her head furiously. “It’s nothing. It was nothing.”

Rin raised an eyebrow. “ Okay.”

It was definitely not just nothing, though.

The thought finally came to her in the middle of lunch like a freight train colliding with a wall. Rin gasped, dropped her omelette, and jumped up from her seat.

Both Len and Gumi stopped eating to look at her. “What’s wrong?” Gumi asked.

Rin didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at Len and said, “Len. Can I speak to you in private?”

Len glanced at Gumi with a look of uncertainty, before setting down his chopsticks and standing, following her out of the classroom.

“Um… what’s up, Rin?” he asked, once she’d pulled him around a corner that was void of people to eavesdrop. He looked very nervous for some reason.

Nevertheless, Rin ignored that and blurted, “Does Gumi have a crush on Miku?”

“Oh.” Now he seemed very surprised. “Um.”

Rin didn’t need a verbal answer. The look on his face told her enough: Yes.

“Oh boy,” Rin said. “All this time I was thinking you had a crush on Miku. This is new. Wait. How come you know about this?”

Len blinked. “Er. Well…”

“Did Gumi tell you?”

He nodded.

Rin frowned. “But she didn’t tell me.”

“Uh,” he said. “Well, Rin…”

“She knows almost every secret of mine but she wouldn’t tell me she has a crush… on Miku . Everyone has just been keeping me in the dark!”

Len winced. “Rin.”

“Yes?”

“I basically traded secrets with Gumi.”

“You what?”

Len rubbed his neck. “So, like. She really wanted to know who I liked, but I refused and said to her only if she told me who she likes. So she told me. And she threatened me to not say anything to you. Anyway, you know, I talked to some people… found out Miku has a thing for Gumi, too. I’ve just been trying to kind of… get them together, but… ah. I’m sorry. You must’ve been really confused.”

Suddenly, everything began to fall into place. “Wait, so… so that’s why you were talking about Miku at lunch the other day?”

He nodded.

“And that’s why Gumi made you come with her to get a drink.”

Len looked sheepish. “She was mad.”

“Wow.”

“So… is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

“What?” Rin asked. “I mean, yeah. That was all.”

Len looked disappointed. “Oh.”

Then she suddenly remembered about what happened on the weekend. “Oh. And—Len.”

The disappointment on his face melted away for a moment. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, I really am sorry about the weekend,” Rin said. “I didn’t think about anyone else but myself in that situation. I didn’t want to make you worried, though. I’m really sorry.”

Len’s gaze softened. He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. Gumi told me about your circumstances, so…” he trailed off, thinking. “Besides, I guess you were a little confused by me inviting Miku to eat ice-cream with us so suddenly. You probably didn’t know it was for Gumi’s sake.”

She laughed. “Thank you for worrying about me, Len.”

He smiled at her. “I couldn’t not worry about you, Rin.”

There was a brief pause between them, as they stood awkwardly, staring at each other’s faces. The silence was filled with tension—or maybe she was just imagining it.

Len then spoke again, averting his gaze away from her face. “You know, Rin, I… um…”

Whatever he wanted to say next did not come, because a certain green-haired girl stomped up beside them with her arms crossed.

“There you are!” Gumi exclaimed, standing in the space between them. “What are you two doing? I’ve been waiting 15 minutes for you to come back. What’s going on?”

Then she noticed the look on Len’s face and faltered. “Wait. Did I… did I interrupt something?”

Len cleared his throat. “No. It’s fine. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Gumi glanced at Rin, who shrugged her shoulders. “Are you sure? Because I—”

He held up a finger. “Nope. It’s cool. But Rin knows you like Miku.”

She went blank for a moment, before her eyes narrowed. “You told her?”

“No. I guessed it,” Rin answered quickly, to save Len from being gutted like a fish. “I dragged him out here to ask about it… and then I apologised about the weekend. That’s all.”

Len nodded. “That’s all.”

Gumi was red. “Both of you are so— difficult.” She threw up her hands in frustration, then turned around and walked off.

“Is she okay?” Rin asked.

“Probably,” Len responded. “Thanks for speaking up for me, though.”

“No worries,” she said. “By the way, what did you want to say before? It seemed pretty serious.”

Len hesitated, his lips pressing into a straight line in thought. Finally, he said, “You know what? I can’t remember. It probably wasn’t important.”

“Oh.”

They then followed after Gumi. But Rin couldn’t help but keep thinking back to what Len was about to say to her.

“So, what are you doing on your birthday, Rin?” Gumi asked. It was T-minus five days until Sunday, her birthday, the dreaded day.

Rin picked at her lunch, not feeling very hungry. “Not much. Probably just going to stay home… do nothing…”

“Well, that’s sad,” Len said. “Why don’t we hang out or something?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. My parents don’t want me to,” Rin lied. Of course, her parents could care less about her meeting with friends on her birthday, but she also had the strange curfew of sunset (her deadline for finding a lover before becoming a fish forever).

“Oh,” Gumi and Len said in unison, sounding disappointed.

“How about next weekend?” she suggested, although there wouldn’t be a next weekend. But if it made her friends happy, she’d plan it, even if it wouldn’t end up happening.

“Next weekend is good with me. Gumi?” Len looked to Gumi.

She nodded. “I should be free.”

“Sweet. Let’s go bowling or something,” Len suggested. “I mean, it’s your birthday, Rin, so we can do whatever you want.”

“Bowling sounds nice,” Rin mused aloud. “Karaoke would be fun too.”

“Oh yeah! Let’s go to karaoke as well,” Len agreed. He then glanced over at Gumi with a sly look. “Shall we invite Miku?”

Gumi grimaced, her ears reddening. “I don’t need you two hooligans being my wingmen.”

“Why not? You’re practically always trying to be my wingman,” Rin said.

Gumi jabbed a finger in her direction. “You watch it, Miss Rin. I have the power here.”

Rin backed down, holding her hands up. “Okay, okay. Jeez. Maybe you should just try asking her out.”

“And don’t use my advice on me,” she added sulkily, folding her arms over her chest.

“Wow, she tells you that too?” Len asked, guffawing.

Rin rolled her eyes. “Like every day.”

He held up his hand. “Same. High-five!”

She gave him a high-five across the table, to which Gumi just rolled her eyes. “You two are just… so… unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably awesome,” Rin corrected. She and Len gave each other another high-five.

Gumi put her head down on her desk and groaned.

The pair chuckled.

“So… what are your folks going to do with you on the weekend?” Len asked, steering the conversation back to her birthday.

Rin sighed. “Dunno. Dunno anything, really.”

“That stinks,” he said.

“Yep.”

Gumi lifted her head. “I’m still worried you’re like, being married off or something and you’re just not telling us.”

Yeah. Being married off to the sea, Rin thought.

Len found this speculation incredibly upsetting. “Being married off? Are your parents really that cruel to do that?”

“No,” Rin said. “I told you, I’m not getting married off. It’s not related to my relationship status in any way.” It totally was. “Stop spreading rumours about me, Gumi.”

Gumi ignored Rin, patting Len on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, if you get there first thing in the morning, Len, you might be able to wrestle down all her potential fiances and come first place as her suitor.”

Len swatted her hand away, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Shut up.”

It was then that Gumi shared a secret wink with Rin. She didn’t know what that meant.

“Well, regardless of your plans on Sunday, still expect us to call you and sing happy birthday in horrible discordant voices, at least,” Gumi said. “It’s tradition, you know.”

That part was at least true. The trio had been doing such a thing since middle school.

Rin smiled. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.” She was really looking forward to hearing from her friends for the last time. They wouldn’t know that, of course.

“Anyway, I’m still for inviting Miku to your birthday celebrations, if you don’t mind,” Len said with a shit-eating grin.

Gumi waved her chopsticks at him threateningly. “Len, I swear to God, I will harvest your organs and sell them on the black market.”

Then the day came. The morning started off rather ordinary, with Gumi and Len calling her at nine to sing happy birthday. Of course, she burst into tears on the phone, panicking the pair.

“What’s wrong?” Gumi asked.

Rin sobbed hideously and wiped her face with the palm of her hand. “I’m sorry. I just felt really happy. That’s all.”

“Really?” Len asked with skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah. Dunno. Just feeling a bit emotional today. Thank you for calling me, guys.”

The two were quiet for a moment. “It’s what we do, Rin,” Gumi then said, her voice gentle. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. My parents are calling me, so I should probably hang up now.” That was a lie, but she couldn’t stand the conversation any longer.

“Okay,” Gumi and Len chorused, although they, too, sounded a little downhearted.

“Have a nice birthday, Rin,” Len said.

“Thank you. Bye.”

She didn’t wait for their replies. She hung up and began to cry again.

Her mother came into her bedroom a few minutes later, a look on her face that meant motherly-business. “Rin,” she said gently. “Are you sure you’re fine with this? You can still meet with your friends. You don’t need to avoid them.”

“It’s fine,” Rin sobbed. “It’s better off this way.”

Her mum sunk down onto the bed beside her, taking the phone from her clammy hands. “I know… I know it’s really hard for you. And I don’t know what to say or do. But… whatever happens, you’re still our daughter. And we love you, fish or not.”

She whimpered into her wet sleeve. “I wish I didn’t have to be a fish.”

“I’m sorry for giving you this curse,” her mother said. She reached out to rub her back. “I’m so sorry.”

Then her mother was crying too.

The day chugged at an impossibly slow pace, as if wanting to draw out the pain and suffering even longer.

Rin sat in her room most of the day, staring at her feet and legs and thinking, This is so fucking stupid. What the hell. She only emerged once or twice to use the bathroom, and to pick at a piece of her birthday cake.

Her parents had given her presents; one was an expensive waterproof phone case, and the other was an underwater camera. They made her cry again; although, they were somewhat thoughtful gifts considering the unfortunate situation.

When it hit four in the afternoon, she picked herself up from her bedroom floor, gathered what she wanted to take with her to the ocean, and set off to the beach. Her parents cried, and she did too, and she walked with her head down in the late afternoon sun.

Once the sun fully set, Rin would become a mermaid, and would never see her human legs again.

She sat on the edge of the jetty she once sat on with Len, and waited with her knees tucked up to her chest, listening to the ocean waves and the cries of the seagulls overhead. It was growing colder and colder as it grew darker and darker.

It was only about five minutes or so of sitting and waiting when Rin heard the sound of running footsteps behind her. She assumed it was some person out jogging, but they grew closer and closer, until she could hear someone panting very heavily.

She glanced behind her, and was surprised to see Len, doubled-over a few metres from her.

“Rin,” he gasped, stumbling over. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Huh,” she said, quickly wiping her wet face.

Len saw her red, swollen eyes as he grew closer and stopped in his tracks. “I went to your house to surprise you, but your parents said you were here. I ran all the way from your house because the bus wasn’t coming for another hour, and your parents said it would be too late to wait any longer. I don’t really understand, but…”

Rin couldn’t help but begin to cry, yet again. “Oh, Len…”

“You’re not going to like, kill yourself, are you?” he asked, with the most serious expression she’d ever seen on him. “The look on your parents’ faces… it was like you had died.”

She laughed, although it was nothing to laugh about, but the whole situation was just so absurd she had no other way to react to it. “No, Len,” she said. “I’m not going to kill myself.”

“Then why…” he asked, edging closer.

“You want to go for a swim?” she asked him, although she was joking (just a little).

Len looked at her like she was crazy. And she was. “Are you kidding me? We’d both get hypothermia.”

Rin thought about that. “Hmm. You’re right.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Only if you tell me who you like,” she jested.

Len was speechless, but it seemed he was taking her seriously.

There were only about fifteen or so minutes left of daylight, so Rin stood and turned to him, now serious. “I have a secret. Not even Gumi knows it. Can you keep it?”

He went wide-eyed and nodded, swallowing.

She reached out for his hand and started pulling him back toward the beach. “We have to go somewhere no one will see me.”

“Er… why?” he asked.

“You’ll see.”

They jogged up the beach toward the rocks, and Rin began climbing over them to a more secluded part of the beach. Len seemed rather confused by it all. Finally, she reached a shallow pool of water that would demonstrate enough.

“You have to promise you won’t scream or do anything weird,” she told him.

Len just blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. He nodded wordlessly, but she could tell there were questions just dying to come out.

Rin held a finger to her lips, then slipped off her coat, throwing it over some dry rocks. She’d already prepared for her assimilation into the sea, and had a bathing suit on underneath her coat. She began to descend down into the pool, the water lapping at her ankles, then her calves, then her thighs…

He seemed to panic at just this alone. “Rin, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

The water was ice cold, so cold it was painful. She winced and closed her eyes, ignoring Len’s cries. Soon, that familiar, warm sensation spread through her lower body, over her arms and ears and back.

Len went dead silent, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

His eyes were the size of saucers and his mouth was hanging open. “You… huh.”

“This is why I could never participate in the swimming carnival,” Rin said.

Len sank down to his knees, clutching at his hair in shock. She waited for him to get the words out, this time. “You… you’re a mermaid?”

She stretched out her webbed fingers, and said very lifelessly, “Surprise!”

“I’m… excuse me. You’ve been a mermaid this whole time?”

Rin shrugged. “Ever since I was born. It’s a family curse. Whenever I touch water, I grow a tail, and it sucks.”

“A… curse?” Len echoed. “How is it a curse?”

“Well, that’s the whole reason why my 18th birthday is the worst thing ever,” she said. “Why I’ve been so sad. Why my parents were probably crying when you knocked on their door. I’m going to become a mermaid forever, Len, as soon as the sun sets on my 18th birthday. Today.”

He seemed very distraught over this fact. More than she was expecting, really. “What? Why? Isn’t there something to break the curse, like—like in fairy tales or something?”

Rin sighed. There were only like, two minutes left of sunlight, as far as she knew. “Yeah, but it’s too late now to break it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, like in fairy tales, to break the curse I need a true—”

“A true love’s first kiss,” Len finished, with a look of realisation. “You were being serious. God! I’m such an idiot!”

Rin opened her mouth to ask, “Why?” but much to her surprise, he tore off half his clothes in about five seconds flat and jumped into the freezing cold water, splashing her in the face, before launching himself towards her.

It was definitely a horrifying moment, until Len slapped his hands on either side of her head and leaned in for the kiss.

Of course, there were a million thoughts swirling through Rin’s mind as he kissed her, one of them being, Dang, this was definitely not as romantic as I’d imagined. But then again, Len was kissing her, like actually kissing her on the lips, and that was something she’d been pining for for the last 11 years, although it could’ve come just a little sooner.

Just as she was getting over the initial shock of it all, he pulled away. “Did it work?” he asked, trying to look down for her tail.

Her scales glittered through the surface of the water, and his face fell in disappointment, his hands dropping to her shoulders.

“Was I too late?” he then mused aloud, but what Rin wanted to know was how did he know she liked him back?

Wait.

Gumi…

Rin felt a strange tingle down below, the same sort of tingle she felt when she was turning back to a human.

Immediately she panicked, because she was about to become half-naked in front of Len.

“Er, Len, um, Len,” she said.

He looked at her, confused.

“I need you to like, not look at the lower half of my body for the next five minutes or so, because you’re going to see something you maybe want to see, but I don’t want you to see until we at least get to like, third base or something.”

“What,” he said.

But Rin needed not to give him a more specific explanation, because at that moment, the fabric of her torn-up bikini bottoms floated past.

“Oh.” Len immediately distanced himself, crawling back onto the rocks and shivering. He covered his eyes. “Just tell me when.”

On cue, her tail disappeared for the last time, her scales shedding and filling the pool, looking like glitter in the twilight. She ran her now-normal hands over the surface of the skin on her thighs, an immense sensation of relief filling her chest like fireworks.

Rin clambered up onto the rocks, and the cold winter wind hit her bare skin. She slipped and shivered as she reached for her coat, pulling it on hurriedly in a desperate attempt to get herself warm. It did very little to help, though.

“Okay, okay. I’m decent,” she said to Len, who seemed more relieved he could now reach for his dry clothes. His teeth were chattering, and for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt for having dragged him into this mess.

She decided to call her parents to rescue them from the cold. Her mum was more than relieved to hear her asking for pickup, no questions asked. She probably already had a feeling things would take a turn for the best after Len came by.

They climbed over the rocks, back toward the main beach, in shivering silence.

“I’m sorry,” Rin said to Len, as they stopped for a moment on the sand. “Now you’re freezing because of me.”

“I’ll gladly lose a limb or two to frostbite to save you,” he said through gritted teeth, and she wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.

Rin slicked her wet hair back. “Okay, well. Let’s run a few laps to ensure we have blood flowing to all our limbs. You can demonstrate to me your best time.”

Len groaned at the idea, but got into position. He reached out for her hand in the dark, and she grabbed it, feeling his ice-cold fingers against her own. “Gumi told me to tell you,” he said in between shudders, “that we’re both insufferable.”

“Well, she better eat her words, because it’s her turn to confess next weekend,” Rin said breathily, before she launched herself forward, dragging Len along with her.

They ran, hands together and soaking wet in the middle of winter, until warm blankets and hot chocolate came to the rescue.

Thankfully, no one lost any limbs or became a fish forever that night (or ever).

fin

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fusionholders · 5 years

Text

Reflekdoll - Kwami Fusion Headcanons

Longg is raving about his love of fancy, dramatic fashion, so long as it is orderly. Tikki and Marinette are used to his dramatics by now.

Adrien’s actually really nervous about photo-shooting with Marinette. He feels like he might let her down, or screw up her image

Of course Sass tries to and fails to talk some sense into him. Plagg just laughs and tells him to have fun with his girlfriend. Adrien.exe just breaks

All the stuff with Juleka remains the same - except JuleRose is canon as of now. Because I ain’t a coward.

Nathalie drives them to the shoot and she notices that Adrien and Marinette are being kinda awkward and she’s trying not to cry because her boy has found love-

what do you mean she hasn’t adopted him yet

Anyway, like in canon, Reflekta and Reflekdoll intercept the shoot. Adrien, Mari, Nathalie, and the Gorilla flee the scene, but not before the other two are turned into Reflektas

Plagg and Sass had a shouting match with Longg over whose fault this was-

The two sets of kwamis go fly off with their Miraculouses as they try to find their charges

What happens happens

Now, enter: The KWAMI SWAP. Adrien becomes King Dragon, and Marinette becomes Scales Noire!

King and Scales both call each other clowns like in fanon fashion for Mister Bug and Lady Noire

She cracks a lot of puns and he would be laughing his head off/swooning if he wasn’t panICKING-

When he gets the mirror he gives her a bigger “sh*t-eating grin” than in the show, if this is possible.

The two actually start to work pretty dang well together. But she can tell he’s nervous - and she now fully understands why he’s so laid back as a hero. He doesn’t have the constant pressure she has, so she knows he probably is a bit overwhelmed by it now.

Scales just keeps motivating him, “You’re doing great!” “Awesome job!” “Good work, Dragaboy!” and his heart melts

She actually invents the lyre-baseball and staff-bat trick and it becomes a common move for Snake Noir after, as an homage to Scales.

When he finally puts it together, they both apologize to one another for taking each other’s role for granted, and vow to not ever do that again, having learned what the other goes through.

I wish I could draw because this boy’s face when he uses the various Dragons and Lucky Charm I can’t-

After they finish up, they run off to go swap back. However, before they do, they hug it out and vow to become more like partners in the future.

To show their trust, they both close their eyes, swap back in front of each other, and completely trust neither peeked as they transform back.

After that they both cuddle their kwamis for like five minutes

Anyway, they make it back to the site of the shoot as Adrien and Marinette, and they found Juleka and brought her there with them. They ask if they can finish up.

Nathalie and the Gorilla agree, and Alya takes the pictures this time (and apologizes to Juleka)

We get Adrien and Juleka pics, Adrien/Julerose pics, ADRIENETTE AND JULEROSE PICS, A PIC WITH NATHALIE AND THE GORILLA IN THERE TOO I WISH I COULD DRAW THESE-

Anyway, this episode starts off the true bond between Dragon Bug and Snake Noir. Its here where finally, finally they learn to be partners. Truly equal. Yin and Yang. All in all fun episode!

Wanna know how an episode differed in Kwami Fusion? Just ask! I’ll see what I can come up with. ;)

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beccarooni · 5 years

Text

A helping hand

Whumptober 2019 submission! Pairing = Thor & Hulk, can be read as pre-slash. Not my best but I haven’t written anything in a while so I thought this would be a good excuse for me to get back on the bandwagon!

Sakaar was a place Hulk had grown to like. A begrudging sort of like, really. There were some parts of it that were genuine - like angry girl. Angry girl was probably his favourite thing about Sakaar. He also liked the way the crowds smiled at him, in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t as good as when angry girl smiled at him - like she was genuinely happy to see him. No, these people, the crowds, they were just happy to see something get smashed. By Hulk or whoever. Still, it was better than earth. Better than anger and hate and fear.

The parties on Sakaar he was forced to attend as champion, however…

Hulk would never admit it out loud, but he hated those parties. Everything was loud, everything was bright, and when angry girl wasn’t there it was just him, standing in the center of a room, letting people clamber over him and ask for his photograph. He didn’t like that. He liked naps, play fights, and this strange kind of Sakaarian soup that made his tongue burn. This had none of those. But, angry girl liked them, and so he tried his best to like them too.

Luckily for him, Thor seemed to hate this as much as he did. It was kind of funny, weirdly - seeing the God’s tiny features screw themselves up in a glare at whoever decided they wanted to look at the new ‘lord of thunder’. His lightning may have been capped by the device in his neck, but his stormy glare was decidedly not.

People steered clear of him. And since the only person Thor knew there was Hulk, people steered clear of him, too.

This was probably the best party he’d had in ages.

“This is ridiculous.” Thor shook his head, leaning heavily against the brightly-patterned counter, almost having to yell over the volume of the music that pounded out from the speakers.

“He’s not even that good.”

Hulk turned to glance at where Thor had decided to fix his death-glare, watching as the Grandmaster’s hands flew over a device that seemed to be causing the sounds he was currently being subjected to.

“Thor not like music?”

“I like music. I just prefer it when it doesn’t make me want to cut off my own ears, that’s all.” Thor sighed, standing up from his stool to get closer to Hulk’s ear.

“When can we go?”

“Soon.” Hulk was honestly glad that Thor was here. He’d never admit it, but being at these things alone...it was bad. Not scary, of course. Hulk didn’t get scared of anything. The people here knew he could crush them with his pinkie finger, if he so desired. That was why they liked him.

But the loud noises, the bright lights - it all seemed eerily similar to a part of his life he’d rather forget. The part where flashes meant bullets and noises meant soldiers. The one part he and Banner could both agree was one of the worst things they’d lived through.

Two drinks were abruptly shoved onto the table in front of them by a small robotic figure, as the Grandmaster’s voice echoed from seemingly every corner of the room.

“A toast, for the grand champion!”

The room erupted in cheers that hurt Hulk’s ears, the floor shaking with stomping and the air filled with the noise of hands, finds, and other assorted appendages clapping. Hulk bared his teeth in what he hoped was closer to a grin than a grimace, and tried his level best to sit through it all without breaking something.

He met Thor’s eyes, and felt something stir in his chest when his face seemed to crease in sympathy.

“Come on.” Thor’s hand tapped lightly against his arm, and he raised his own glass towards him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Hulk grunted his agreement, and roughly clanked his glass against Thor’s, throwing the foul-tasting liquid down his throat.

Maybe in the 2 years he’d been here he’d gotten used to the drink. Or maybe Thor was just really that puny, because almost the second the tiny god had taken a drink he was doubled over with coughs, letting the glass drop from his hand to the floor below him.

“By the Norns.” Thor managed between gasps, forcing himself upright and seeming to immediately regret it, judging by the way his hands immediately flew out to steady himself against Hulk’s arm. “What was that?”

Hulk sniffed the glass, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t really know what anything was, here. People had told him what he needed to know, and rarely did that coincide with what he wanted to know. He knew the names of the weapons that lined the walls of the training area. He knew how to greet the grandmaster. But outside of that, there really wasn’t much people had deemed him worthy to know.

The lights shone bright again, as the music increased in it’s tempo. More people began to pour in from the doors, and by now, Hulk knew it was time to go.

“Come on, Blondie.”

Hulk brought one huge hand to Thor’s back, trying to both somehow guide him away from the bar and to ease the fit of coughing that somehow still hadn’t subsided. He’d expected Thor to flinch away, to bat at his hand and proclaim himself unneeding of help. So it came as kind of a shock when Thor actually leant into it, clumsy footsteps following where Hulk was directing with an ease that was quite honestly a little frightening.

It was with a sudden surge of overprotectiveness when he steered Thor towards the doorway, clamping his hand over the demigods shoulders as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“Home, now.”

***

Thor couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, here. He’d always been the more unobservant one of the family, at least, that had been Odin’s proclamation. Loki was the clever one, the smart one, the one who read the books and studied the magic and figured out the problem. Thor was the warrior, and up until a few years ago he’d been fine with that. The likes of Stark and Banner were not the likes of him, and that was okay.

He supposed Stark and Banner would’ve had the common sense not to take a drink from a stranger, on a planet he didn’t know, filled with people he didn’t trust. They wouldn’t have landed themselves into this mess, staggering down an empty hallway with an overly-concerned Hulk shadowing his every move.

“M’fine, Hulk. I just need to…” Thor found himself slowing down before he even really noticed that it was happening, until he came to an abrupt stop, planting his hand on the wall.

He didn’t know what exactly it was that he needed to do. It would’ve been a lot easier to identify if the walls just stopped moving.

Stupid trash planet and it’s stupid moving walls.

He hated Sakaar. God, he hated it. They’d even found a way to ruin corridors, lining it with lights that shone just a little too brightly and floors that seemed to shift under his feet.

Thor ran a hand roughly down his face, screwing his eyes tightly shut against the blurring colours and the sudden intensity of the air around him.

He felt awful. He felt tired. His legs began to falter beneath him until he was sliding down the wall, blood rushing past his ears in a roar that was louder than any dragon Muspellheim could throw at him.

“Blondie?”

Hulk’s voice was a low grumble against his ear, and he could feel the heat from his hand where it hovered above his shoulder, waiting and wanting to help but unsure if he should.

Which was ridiculous. Why would Thor need help? He wasn’t some fragile princess who swooned at the tiniest sip of one drink. He was Thor, Lord of- wait, no, God of Thunder. He was the God of Thunder and he lived on Asgard and he was fine.

He was fine, wasn’t he?

Sure, maybe his head was pounding. Maybe his vision was starting to fail him, black spots darting across his vision that only seemed to be getting bigger. Maybe he could feel his body begin to ignore his brains sluggish messages that something was wrong, slouching further into the wall, chasing the coldness of the metal tiles against his skin that felt much too warm now.

“Blondie!” Hulk wasn’t grumbling anymore. This was a shout, panicked, as Thor hit the ground with a dull thud.

He could barely feel it as Hulk shook his shoulder, trying frantically to get some response out of him. He barely saw Hulk’s expression, wide eyed and wild when Thor didn’t reply to any of his rousing. He didn’t hear any of the pleas, or the questions.

But, really. He was fine.

***

Hulk paced the floors of his room, watching where Thor had slipped into a fitful sleep on the bed.

He didn’t want to take his eyes off him. Not even for a moment. Not when he looked so fragile, small, and it suddenly wasn’t funny anymore that Thor had fallen over. It certainly hadn’t been funny when Thor had started convulsing, rivets of lightning flashing under his skin that left painful looking marks etched onto the demigods body. It wasn’t funny that Hulk had had to carry him back to the room himself, listening to every muffled sound of pain that was cried into his shoulder. It wasn’t funny seeing Thor claw at his throat, writhing with pain that Hulk didn’t know how to fix.

Hulk trudged his way back over to the bed, resting the back of his hand against Thor’s forehead. It gave him a faint bite of static, blue light briefly glimmering over his palm before he drew it back with a frown.

Thor was still too warm, too restless for Hulk to be able to sleep. He didn’t know much about medicine, but if puny Banner could do it? Well, it was almost a point of principle at this stage. Hulk could take care of Thor just as well as puny Banner could, maybe even better. It couldn’t be that hard.

A small whimper reached his ears, and he turned to see Thor’s bright blue eyes gazing up at him.

Wait, no, not at him. Thor was staring past him, with eyes that were too bright to be rid of fever, and too disfocused to be fully conscious.

But it was something.

“Hulk?” Thor croaked, eyes slipping back shut momentarily. “Where are we?”

“Bedroom. Thor safe, don’t worry.”

Thor grunted, twisting onto his side, burrowing further under the blankets with a small sniffle that made Hulk’s heart clench.

His fingers gripped the blankets tightly, as a low groan emerged from his throat.

“Hurts.”

“Thor sick.” Hulk moved to sit by the side of the bed, raising one finger to push a stray lock of hair out of Thor’s eyes. “But Hulk take care of it.”

Thor seemed happy with that answer, or at least too out of it to protest. When his eyes opened again, it was with a tad more clarity than last time, actually managing to find Hulk’s face and hold his gaze for a time.

Hulk was getting a little uncomfortable with the way Thor was staring at him, so he cleared his throat and got to his feet with an excuse to break away from whatever that was. His hands wrapped around an oversized pitcher that rested next to the bed, and he gingerly sniffed at the liquid inside.

“Thor want water?”

“Sure.”

Thor made an attempt to sit up, but froze midway, and sank heavily back down onto the pillows.

He sighed, looking more annoyed with himself than anything else, muttering something viciously in Asgardian before he seemed to realise he was forgetting something.

“Thank you, Hulk. I’m...honestly I’m not sure what happened.”

“Blondie not worry about it.” Hulk didn’t really know how else to go about offering someone water. At least, not like this. He’d really hoped that by this point Thor would be able to handle it himself, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon.

With a small grumble to let Thor know that Hulk wasn’t enjoying this very much either, he knelt down by the side of the bed. Carefully, he cradled Thor’s head in his hand, tilting the pitcher up to a point where he could drink safely.

“I’m sorry.” Thor mumbled as Hulk laid him back down against the pillow, face flushing red with something that was decidedly not a fever.

“S’fine.” Thor looked like he wanted to say something else, but the effort it had taken to maintain even that small amount of consciousness had clearly run its course, and within a few moments Hulk was left alone again.

When the next day dawned, neither of them would speak of this. There was some awkward stumbling around it, but the two eventually resolved that it would be better if they just forgot about the entire thing.

Hulk would’ve been comfortable never to mention it again. To bury it under a pile of memories and let it drift off into wherever memories went. But Thor wasn’t so eager to please. He kept thanking him for it, to an almost awkward degree.

But, later, when Thor trusted Hulk to help save Asgard, he did so without hesitation.

And Hulk quite liked the feeling of being trusted.

#whumptober2019 #no.21 #tw: drugged #thorhulk #thor whump #sickfic #thor #hulk

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lupinlongbottom · 6 years

Text

Untouchable

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) (L/N) can’t stand to be in the same room as Charlie Weasley, let alone think about talking to him. Being close friends with his brothers makes it a hundred times harder to ignore.

Prompt: Hey! I'd like to make a request for Charlie where the reader is friends with the twins or Ron and he likes her but every time he tries to talk to her or even like enter the room she leaves or ignores him so he's like dang she don't like me but REALLY she's just so flustered around him and doesn't want to embarrass herself because she likes him so much. Thank you so much! (Sorry if this is a long request lol) - @theboywhocriedlupin

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: like one f-bomb, hella fluff

A/N: AH thank you Ash for the beautiful request. I hope I did this prompt enough justice to what you’d imagine. (Also, I love Tonks.... k bye)

The grand staircase was rather empty for a Saturday afternoon. Although Gryffindor wasn’t playing, most of the House had gone and attended the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match. (Y/N) had decided to catch up on some well needed sleep than watch the match, figuring that a few extra hours would do her good. Her younger friends, Fred and George Weasley—whom she had learn to love like brothers—had a similar idea. Sticking behind, that is. She had awoken to a letter gingerly stuck to her face—all thanks to her pet owl—telling her too meet the boys in front of the entrance to their Common Room for a surprise.

“You guys are insane,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not going to work.”

“How do you reckon?” Fred asked, holding a rather unsteady red rope, his fists readjusting ever so slightly.

“Yeah! How do you know?” George exclaimed, voice cracking.

“My many years of experience have boded well.” (Y/N) said, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. Her fingertips grazed her navy jumper lightly as she did so.

“Shut it—”

“You’re not that much older than us! What? Like three years?”

“Three and a half, actually.” (Y/N) corrected, shifting her weight onto another step on the stairs. (Y/N) was currently in her fifth year at Hogwarts, having met the twins last year when they had begun their schooling career. It had been an interesting year, to say the least.

“Doesn’t matter! We know what we’re doing!” Fred said, gripping the rope tighter. It had led from Fred’s hands to a bucket, hanging ever so gently from the ceiling, right above the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“It’s not going to work.” (Y/N) repeated, glaring back and forth between the twins. A slight pout traced her lips.

“She’s right, you know.” The Fat Lady bellowed, polishing her latest chalice.

“Yeah, yeah. We heard you the first time.” George groaned, waving off the Fat Lady.

“If you so much as get a drop on my head, I’ll never let you back into your dormitory until the end of your schooling.” The Fat Lady retorted. Her nose pushed up slightly with her tone. George and Fred gulped lightly before shrugging her off.

“What did you even fill it with?” (Y/N) asked, crossing her arms, now genuinely curious.

“Remember how we asked you about the Aging Potion?” Fred grinned.

(Y/N)’s mouth hung agape. “There’s no way you two brewed an Aging Potion! That’s way too complex for second years! I can’t even brew it yet. It’s impos—”

“Impossible?” George finished.

“For us, probably,” Fred shrugged. “But when you ask a pretty blonde seventh year nicely,” His grin grew wider. “She may oblige.”

“How did you get Penny Haywood to brew that for you?” (Y/N) said, furrowing her brows. The blonde Hufflepuff was known for her kindness, that was no lie, but (Y/N) knew she wouldn’t possibly have given a group of known trouble-makers such a powerful potion. “She would never—”

“She’s a Hufflepuff.” Fred said simply.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Hufflepuff.” Fred repeated.

“Well,” (Y/N) huffed, not wanting to continue the argument. “Whatever the reason had been,” She clicked. “I hope your prank somehow works out.” She turned her back to the boys, who were excitedly awaiting for their victim—anybody, really—to exit their Common Room.

“You really are like the sister we never had.” Fred swooned, batting his eyelashes dramatically.

“You already have a—never mind,” (Y/N) sighed. “I’ll stay and watch,” George grinned, Fred mirrored his action. “Only,” (Y/N) stated with a sharp tongue. “Only because I could probably help if something went wrong.”

“(Y/N), you’re such a worrywart.” George said, shaking his head lightly.

“The worrywart of Hogwarts!” Fred gasped, the realization spreading across his features quickly.

“I swear on Merlin’s beard if you two make that a ‘thing’, so help me—”

“Worrywart of Hogwarts! Worrywart of Hogwarts!” The twins chanted in unison, hopping up and down slightly. The bucket had shifted slightly from the platform beneath it. (Y/N) shot her hands up to stop them from their excitement, which, of course, urged them to jump and chant harder. The bucket had shifted even closer to the edge, begging to be tipped.

The Fat Lady had swung open in that moment, starling Fred. He yanked hard on the cord, sending the platform downward, the bucket tipping over completely. (Y/N) flinched, scrunching her face tightly. She didn’t get a good look at who was walking out, but she knew whoever it had been, they wouldn’t exactly have been happy. (Y/N) felt her eyes shut tightly, bracing for impact.

“What the…” The voice spoke. (Y/N) peaked an eye open, glancing at the victim. There, standing drenched in the liquid was a very enraged Charlie Weasley. His long red hair was pulled back into it’s usual ponytail, which now was seemingly longer than it was before thanks to the dampness of his hair. (Y/N) yelped quietly, flinging herself up the steps, out of Charlie’s possible gaze.

“Charlie!” Fred barked, now completely disregarding the rope. “Why aren’t you at the match?”

“I was looking for my hat—no luck—I had misplaced it in my trunk,” Charlie said, wicking his hands through his wet hair. “Obviously that was a terrible decision on my end.”

“Mum’s going to kill us,” George said, glancing quickly to Fred. “We’ve aged our brother to nothingness!”

“Aged your brother?” Charlie asked, stepping out of the puddle. “What could you possibly be—oh,” He cracked a slight but knowing smile before shifting his face back to it’s stony glare. “Why do my bones suddenly ache?”

“Oh no! It’s the arthritis!” George yelped, flinging his hands to his hair. “It’s already setting in!”

“We’re so screwed!” Fred said, mirroring George’s motions. Charlie chuckled airily, turning quickly on his heels to enter the Common Room yet again, probably to dry himself. “Oh man,” Fred sighed again. “Charlie’s going to die. Completely our fault! (Y/N), what do you—(Y/N)?” His eyes scanned over the steps, to where the still sleepy (Y/N) had been sitting before.

“Is he gone?” (Y/N) asked, crawling slowly down the steps, flicking her eyes between the twins worried expressions.

“Who? Charlie?” George asked, eyeing (Y/N) as she crawled out of her hiding spot. “Yeah, he’s gone. Probably forever.”

“Wonderful,” (Y/N) sighed as she stood up, stretching her legs. “Just wonderful.”

“You seem quite content with Charlie dying, considering you made quite the leap when he came out,” Fred mused. “Higher than a chocolate frog I would bet!”

(Y/N) felt her face heat up, the feeling rising from her chest to her cheeks. “Huh,” She hummed, fidgeting with her hands. “That’s interesting. I should tell my mum that, she’d love to hear about it. Let me go and write her now!” (Y/N) began her way down the stairs, only to have The Fat Lady fling open, pushing her nearly off the edge of the steps.

“Merlin, (Y/N)! I’m so sorry! I didn’t even know you were out here,” Charlie said, helping her upright. His eyes scanned her worried appearance. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy.” (Y/N) mumbled, pushing past Charlie to descend down the steps. She skipped every other step in hopes to get down the stairs quicker, which in reality helped very little. The Weasley boys watched her disappear from view, her (Y/H/C) bounding along the way.

“That was weird, right?” George whispered to Fred, who nodded.

“What?” Charlie asked, eyebrow cocking upwards.

“Have you ever had a conversation with (Y/N) that was that short?” Fred responded simply, crossing his arms.

“Always,” Charlie sighed, almost sadly. The twins shot him a surprised look. “Is that not like her?”

“Exact opposite, mate.” George said.

“I suppose you two know her better than I do,” Charlie said, running his fingers through his now somewhat dried bangs. “I really want to apologize, but why would she be so short with me?”

“Dunno,” Fred shrugged. “You should try—”

“—and ask her about it.” George ended. “She likes to do things with books in the library Saturdays usually, you could—”

“—try meeting her there.”

Charlie stared at his brothers with a blank look on his face. “You two really need to stop with the twin sentence thing. It gets annoying,” Charlie shook his head as he descended the stairs. “Also,” He turned around, looking at the twins—whom were cleaning up their puddle of a mess—and sighed. “‘She likes to do things with books in the library’? So, studying?”

“That’s what that’s called!” Fred exclaimed, flinging his wand nearly out of his hand.

“Can’t remember words I don’t use, Charlie.” George smirked.

“You two sometimes…” Charlie clicked, returning back down the stairs, determined to apologize to (Y/N), hopefully not making a fool of himself in the process.

—

True to the twin’s claims, (Y/N) was indeed studying in the library, hunched over a Transfiguration textbook. Charlie smiled to himself, staring quietly at her furrowed brows. She seemed to be having trouble with whatever she was jotting down. As if the solution hit her like a lighting bolt, her face lit up instantly, scribbling furiously on the parchment beneath her tapping quill.

Charlie didn’t even notice the stack of books he had been leaning on until he had toppled them over, sending a loud crash echoing through the library. (Y/N) shot her head up, scanning the shelves around her for whatever had made the noise. In an instant, Charlie hid behind the nearest bookshelf to hide himself. (Y/N) shrugged it off and returned to her parchment.

“That was close,” Charlie whispered to himself. He peeked around the corner, watching (Y/N) smile softly to herself as she closed her first textbook and opened another. “If she saw me, she’d think I’m being a creep,” He laughed gently. “But I am being a creep. Way to go Charles. Just go talk to her!” He hissed under his breath, arguing with his own logic.

“Hiya Weasley!” Tonks exclaimed loudly, slapping a hand hard on his shoulder.

“Tonks…” Charlie groaned. (Y/N)’s eyes met his abruptly. The color drained from her face as she quickly shoved her materials in her bag and scurried off out of Charlie’s line of sight. “What’d you do that for!?” He hissed yet again, the sound rivaling any snake that could possibly cross his path.

“Wanted to say hi,” Tonks smiled, rocking back and forth on her feet. A tuft of her shockingly pink hair floated into her face, which she pushed away quickly. “Why would you be mad?” Tonks’ eyes followed the hurried body leaving the library, (Y/N). She glanced back at Charlie’s slightly pink face. “Oh, I see what’d going on,” Her grin grew twice it’s size. “Got a crush on little (L/N) do you? I didn’t know you liked younger women.”

“She’s not that much younger, don’t make it weird.” Charlie said simply.

“Make it weird? Me?” Tonks batted her eyelashes. “I could never do that, Charles.”

“Seriously Tonks?” Charlie waited a beat, focusing on Tonks’ unchanging expression. “I’m convinced (Y/N) hates me now, I nearly pushed her off the staircase this morning. She’ll never talk to me again and—wait, when did you start calling me Charles?”

“Since I started feeling like it,” Tonks said, shrugging. “Besides, (Y/N) can’t hate you. It’s statistically impossible. I had Rowan crunch the numbers.”

“Rowan crunched the numbers?”

“Indeed. You see, the rest of your friends—you know, the coolest kids in this school—we’ve noticed how you stare at (Y/N) all the time,” Charlie opened his mouth to speak. “Let me finish please. So, we’ve done a little digging on the matter and low and behold, (Y/N) likes you too.”

“How did you possibly—”

“Penny asked nicely.” Tonks replied.

“But how—”

“Penny has a very trusting face, must be a Hufflepuff thing.” Tonks sighed.

“Tonks, you’re a Hufflepuff.” Charlie chuckled.

“That’s true, which makes the whole situation,” Tonks’ hair began turning a daisy yellow, growing past her shoulders, her face shifting into a familiar smile. Penny’s smile. “All the more believable, no?”

“You didn’t!” Charlie’s eyebrows practically flew up to his hairline. “That’s deceitful and wrong and—”

“Would you get your knickers out of their twist? Penny was going to ask anyway, might as well have me get it out of the way.”

“You really need to stop interrupting me.” Charlie sighed.

“What’s the fun in that?” Tonks said, shifting back to her usual appearance. Her bubblegum returned to it’s normal state, now sitting just atop her shoulders. “Listen, I know that you care about (Y/N), for whatever reasons you have, so I’m only going to tell you this because I care about your feelings,” Her hand settled on Charlie’s shoulder, albeit softer than the first time that afternoon. “She’ll be out in the courtyard around sundown.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“If you need any help keeping Cinderella at the ball, let me know. I can always hex her legs or something.”

“There’s the Tonks I know,” Charlie smiled. “Though, what’s a ‘Cinderella’?”

“You purebloods are missing out on some really fucked up Muggle children’s stories, you know that?”

—

“…no, I guess that wouldn’t work.” (Y/N) mumbled to herself, erasing the large line she had just drawn over her parchment. The wind was blowing lightly, making the courtyard that evening ever more enjoyable.

Charlie spotted her from across the way. No one else was in the yard, much to his shock. He had the slightest feeling that Tonks had a bit to do with it. With a heavy sigh and a jittering heart, Charlie entered the courtyard.

(Y/N) glanced up from her paper, noticing the redhead walking towards her. With a flick of her wand, her belongings packed neatly into her bag—she’d been practicing that since she had left the library earlier that day—and stood up.

“Wait! (Y/N)!” Charlie called out, running towards her. “Please don’t run! I just want to talk.”

(Y/N) paused for a moment, facing away from Charlie. She didn’t dare turn around.

“Look, I’m sorry for nearly killing you today at the staircase. I obviously didn’t mean to do that and I’m sorry,” No response. “(Y/N), please, respond to me. You rarely ever give me the time of day or speak to me at all, it’s like you leave the room whenever I show up and—”

“It’s not about the stairs, Charlie,” (Y/N) sighed. “You didn’t know I was out there, easy mistake, anyone could have made it.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You! It’s about you!” (Y/N) exclaimed, turning tight on her heels, now facing Charlie directly. She drew a quick breath when she focused on his face. His cheeks had glistened in the of sunset, the shine dusting across his freckles gently. “I can barely talk to you without getting flustered. It’s like my tongue has two left feet!”

“W-what?” Charlie stumbled. He hadn’t exactly expected to hear that.

“How could a girl—who’s two years younger than you, I might add—even compare to the wonderful girls you hang with? I’m not as charismatic as Tonks, not nearly as intelligent or kind as Penny. Don’t even get me started on Tulip, she’s practically both of your brother’s role model,” (Y/N) took a deep breath. “And your brothers! I’m so close with them that even thinking about having a possible relationship with you seems irrelevant—”

“(Y/N) slow down, you’re going about a mile a minute—”

“You’re untouchable, Charlie Weasley. Always have been. It’s like the stars have aligned to make it so.”

Charlie smiled softly, ignoring (Y/N) now flushed appearance. She had been running her mouth for quite some time, just coming up for air. “Have you read that in your Astronomy text or something?”

“Astronomy? I don’t take Astro—Oh. The stars thing I said.”

“The only thing that’s making me ‘untouchable’, (Y/N),” Charlie took a hesitant step forward. “Is your head. You overthink.”

“It’s a specialty of mine.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“So I’ve noticed,” Charlie chuckled. “Look, (Y/N), nothing you do could possibly make me not like you. You are kind and funny. No need to mention that you have the most charming smile I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

(Y/N)’s face felt like it was overheating. “M-my smile?”

“Merlin, yes!” Charlie took another step towards her. “I wish you’d do it more often. It makes my mouth go dry and it’s hard to formulate a coherent thought whenever you do it,” Another step. “Please believe me.”

“I think I do.” (Y/N) said, fighting back the biggest smile she had ever felt like pulling. She couldn’t give him that now, not when he was about to spill his heart out to her.

“Good. I’m glad,” Another step. Charlie was now directly in front of (Y/N), only about a foot away. “I’m also glad you’re talking to me. I quite like your voice.”

“T-thanks,” (Y/N) stuttered. Charlie was just a bit too close, she could barely focus on what was in front of her. “I like your voice too, if it makes a difference.”

“O-oh,” It was Charlie’s turn to be flustered. “Thanks.”

“What? You can give compliments but can’t receive them?”

“This whole ‘pining’ thing is all new to me, okay?” Charlie laughed, running fingers through his bangs before it met hers, snaking his fingers between her own. “Think you’ll be able to talk to me without running away now?”

“Depends,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Where would we be talking?”

“Three Broomsticks? Next weekend?”

“Deal,” She responded quickly. Charlie’s lips curled into a soft smile, leaning in towards (Y/N) slowly, his eyes closing. “Woah! Charlie!”

His eyes flung open. “I’m sorry!” He pulled his hand away from hers. “I thought that you were—that we would—now I feel like an idiot!”

“It’s okay,” (Y/N) giggled. “I want to, really, I do, but I just got over talking to you for Merlin’s sake! Think we can take it a bit slower?”

Charlie nodded. “You’re right. We’ll take it slow. I just got excited,” His free hand rubbed the back of his neck softly. (Y/N) moved to her tiptoes and placed a soft peck on Charlie’s freckled cheek. The heat from his chest radiated up to his cheeks and ears, flushing his entire face with a rosy hue. “Ah—well—wow, okay.”

“Speechless, are you?”

“Just a bit. Wasn’t quite expecting that, though I suppose you’re quite the unexpected lady.”

(Y/N) eyes lit up. “Merlin! I nearly forgot! The Aging Potion!” Her fingers grabbed Charlie’s jaw rather roughly, tilting his head around. “Charlie, how are you feeling?”

“Trying to find wrinkles are you?” Charlie smiled at (Y/N)’s silence. He was right. “Penny didn’t give the twins an Aging Potion. She told me straight away after they asked, so I told her to give them some water made to look like a potion.” He shrugged.

“That was rather clever, Charlie.” (Y/N) hand didn’t leave Charlie’s jaw. Her thumb grazed over his growing stubble lightly, enjoying the feeling.

“I’ve been known to be smart occasionally.” He grinned.

“I’m just glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too, otherwise I wouldn’t have that kiss to look forward to.”

“Just the kiss?” (Y/N) cocked an eyebrow.

“That, and the many more you’re bound to give me.” Charlie said, puffing his chest slightly.

“Clever and cocky, what a catch you are.” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes.

“You know you like me.” Charlie hummed, his hand rested atop of hers.

“I do. I like you a whole lot.”

—

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #harry potter #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #charles weasley #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley imagines #dragon boi #hphm #hp #i love him #charlie weasley x you #charles weasley x reader

1K notes · View notes

somethingpoetichere · 6 years

Text

DATING SCOTT MCCALL WOULD INCLUDE-

’(I’m sorry if this sucks I wrote it forever ago and just added a few things lol)

You’re the new girl, arriving (before beginning of s4) to stay with your long time friend Lydia Martin, and when you walk through the doors for the first time, Scott accidentally hits himself with his locker

You try your best to suppress a giggle as you open your locker beside his, but end up hitting yourself with your own locker and end up in tears laughing right alongside the brown haired boy

“I’m Scott McCall.” He smiles at you as the both of you finally calm down, extending his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You grin at him, and Scott is head over heels for you the minute your eyes meet his

Lydia had told him a lot about you already and he’d seen the pictures before, but no description or photo could have possibly done you justice in Scott’s eyes

He helps show you around on your first day, and you end up quickly befriending Scott and his intensely sarcastic yet endearing best friend Stiles

You become really good friends with the pack, as they all fell a little bit in love with your attitude and carefree smile

You stop by your locker after lunch and share a smile with Scott as Stiles corners you once you’re away from Lydia, immediately badgering you about any potential past crushes...

“Did my name come up like once maybe? Or was there a boy with moles mentioned??”

“Sorry about Stiles, he’s been in love with her for years.” Scott apologizes to you about him for the fourth time, but you laugh it off

“Don’t worry about it, its actually really sweet. I wish a guy cared about me like that.”

As you walk off, Scott smiles dreamily at you and thinks about how you just might have one who does

Becoming really good friends with Stiles, who may or may not send you snapchats of Scott every five seconds captioned with obnoxious and sexual comments

“Our favorite puppy is staring at you again.”

“Really?” You ask as you whip your head around in history class, falling off your chair and making Lydia burst out laughing

“Shut up.”

Scott is left a little more than breathless by you, but puts his breathing problems around you down to his asthma (Lydia and Stiles make fun of him and motion him using his inhaler whenever you walk in the room)

Lydia and Stiles ship you together so hard

Scott uses any excuse he can find to talk to you

“Do you want me to help you with calculus?”

“Scott, have you even taken calculus?”

“Well, no, but I mean how hard can it be?”

You stay behind with Lydia and Malia to watch the boys practice during an offseason training session, doing homework and joking around on the bleachers as you try not to admire Scott for too long

“McCall really does have a great ass.” You add, almost dreamily

“And he can probably hear you.” Lydia smirked at you, laughing loudly as your face flushed scarlet

He definitely hears, and plays even harder after that

You’re screwing around after lacrosse practice, and he’s sort of teaching you how to play and sort of watching in amazement as you flawlessly make shot after shot

“Let’s see how good you really are, hotshot. Up for a game?”

“Terms?” You ask with a brilliant smile, tugging his spare helmet on

“If I win, you go on a date with me.” He smiles confidently back at you, and you shoot him a wink, still a little surprised by his sudden burst of confidence

“And if you lose?”

“Then you get whatever you want, Y/L/N.”

“Game on, pup.”

In a moment of pure luck, you make one more shot than he does, and when he slumps in defeat as Lydia shouts that five minutes is up, you go to stand next to him

“I know what I want.” You declare with a soft smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, and you giggle lightly as his eyes widen in shock

“Go out with me, McCall.”

Needless to say, he really did need his inhaler after that...

You share smiles with Scott from across the library and through the book shelves while you are supposed to be studying, but neither of you can really focus on your books

You send each other the cheesiest pick ups lines imaginable in class

After he bites Liam, you get text updates from Stiles from Scott’s house, and demand he sends you pictures of Liam duct taped in the bath tub.

“I guarantee you this black mail will come in handy some day.”

You’re staying in Lydia’s guest room, so it scares the living daylights out of you when you hear knocking on your window

You throw the window open, brandishing a baseball bat and knocking Scott off the side of the house, having to stifle a laugh as he lands unceremoniously in the rose bushes

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“You know, I was trying to be cute.” He groans playfully, climbing back up the side of the house

“Try a little harder next time.” You tease, helping him through the window

You stumble a little and he falls through the window, grabbing your waist with lightning fast reflexes and shifting so that he would hit the floor and you would land on top of him

Your faces are literally centimeters apart and you can feel the erratic pattern in which his chest rose and fell beneath you

He can sense just how fast your heart is racing, and looks up at you in wonder as he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear

“You’re incredibly beautiful, did you know that?”

In a moment your lips are on his, one hand gripping your waist while the other caresses your face, and your hands are resting on ground beside his face

He rolls you over so that he’s on top of you, and you’re enveloped in his heavenly scent and the warmth that seems to radiate from every inch of his body

You spend the rest of the night watching Netflix, sending a snapchat to Stiles of the two of you captioned “Netflix and chill w your man”

Stiles absolutely loses his shit and is texting you so much that you eventually just shut your phone off

Considering that Liam undoubtedly harbors a small crush on you (as seen when he ran into the goal after you arrived at the field on the first day of practice), they decide you’re their best shot at getting him to come to Lydia’s lakehouse

“Y/N, please?” Scott begs you with that damned puppy dog look of his, and you grudgingly agree (Honestly, even the most heartless of bastards couldn’t say no to that look)

I hate you, you mouth to him as Lydia forcibly pushes you through the front doors, mock pouting as he shoots you a brilliant grin

Scott is a little surprised at the surge of jealousy that runs through him at the sight of you cheerfully persuading Liam to join you at a party that night

“Is it too late to agree with Stiles and chloroform the little bastard?”

“Is Scott McCall jealous?”

“Maybe.” He answers with a sheepish smile, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I just don’t like other people touching what’s mine, babygirl.”

“Yours? And since when was I babygirl?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and barely concealed smirk

He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek in answer, guiding you into your shared literature class, and you can’t help but smile

God, that boy can make you swoon like no other

He has a smile that literally makes you go weak in the knees, and he has no clue what he does to you

The drive to Lydia’s lake house consists of your phone being bombarded with texts from Scott making sure you’re alright, and you ignoring them as you sing along to cheesy pop songs with Liam

You curse as you note that Stiles changed Scott’s contact name to “daddy” when you weren’t looking

Honestly, Stiles is like that annoying little shit of a brother that you never really wanted but were forced to love anyway

Your contact name in Scott’s phone is “babygirl” so Stiles thought the nickname for Scott was only fitting

After the whole Liam fiasco and the party, Scott drives you home as you wonder aloud how he stays calm during full moons

“Perfect control.”

He doesn’t notice your smirk as you lean over the console, lips hovering just above his ear as your hand rests on his thigh and whisper lowly, “You sure about that, babe?”

He curses as he swerves on the road, and you laugh so hard that you nearly cry

All Scott can do is watch you laugh, just completely and totally enamored with you

For your first date, he picks you up on his motorcycle and takes you for a scenic hike around the Beacon Hills Preserve

He’s definitely the type to open doors for you and pull out chairs, because lets face it, Melissa McCall raised her son to be the perfect gentleman

He takes you home afterwards to meet his mother, and she’s a little wary at first because yeah, she liked Allison, but his first girlfriend also tried to kill a few of his friends and had the crazy family and huntress dynamic thing going on

Melissa is pleasantly surprised when she comes home to find you and Scott in the midst of an all out water gun war in the backyard, and decides you're perfect as you hit Scott with a water balloon right in the face

She smiles as she watches the two of you from the kitchen window, unable to remember a time when her son looked so carefree

You’re huddled in a spiderman towel as Melissa comes outside to call the two of you in for lunch, and you’re hit with a wave of nerves at the thought of meeting his mother

Lunch is filled with the two of you chattering like you’ve been friends for ages, and as Scott grins at the two of you, you can't quite remember why you had been nervous at all

“I hope you know I’m only dating you because I love your mom.”

You often have lunch dates with Melissa, as she needs the girl time and you really just love spending time with her (Scott doesn’t hide how thrilled he is that the two of you get along so well)

“Your phone is ringing.” You point out to Scott as the two of you are inhaling fries at some diner and studying for history together

“I know.”

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”

“They can wait.” He grins at you, kissing your hand

Whenever you’re up late studying, he presses gentle kisses to your shoulder as he pleads for you to just get some rest

The deadpool freaks the absolute hell out of you, and you and Stiles privately share your concerns about it to each other

“I mean, I’m not genetically enhanced or anything, but can I get put on there for being supernaturally gorgeous?”

“Maybe for being a supernatural ass, Stilinski.”

You help Scott take care of Liam, and although Scott certainly isn't fond of the fact that the young beta has a crush on you, he appreciates the calming affect you have on him

Secretly plotting to set Stiles and Lydia up with Malia, Kira, and Scott

Scott loves to surprise you with cute little picnic dates

You proudly wear your McCall sportswear to every lacrosse game

He calls you babygirl when he’s jealous or in private, and the nickname never fails to make your knees go weak

Sweet kisses on the cheek in greeting when you meet up in the halls

Intense make out session in empty classrooms in between classes, during free periods, and sometimes when you manage to talk your way out of history class

Everyone’s heart melts just a little bit at the sight of the two of you lighting up whenever the other comes into view

Making silly faces at each other from across the classroom when the teacher looks away

Every time a new piece of the deadpool is discovered and more names added, you feel your heart break a little

“No one else is going to die, Y/N. I swear on my life.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Scott! That you’re going to die. Don’t you get that? I care about you, way more than I probably should, and that terrifies me.” You scream, the anger draining out of you as exhaustion overwhelms you

Scott tucks you into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as you let out a sob. “If it makes you feel any better, I care about you way more than I probably should. Thats why I’m doing this, Y/N. I just want you to be safe.”

“You’re a very difficult person to be angry at, McCall.”

“It’s my heartbreaking good looks and killer charm.”

Leaning your back against his chest, and he immediately leans down to kiss the top of your head as his arms encircle your waist

Adventurous dates, like white-water rafting or paint balling... anything that gets your adrenaline pumping

Chill dates, the two of you just cuddled up on the couch watching Friends or attempting to make breakfast together

As long as the two of you are together, it doesn’t really matter what you do

When the school is placed on lockdown during the testing, you’re left panicking alongside Lydia

As soon as the barriers are removed, you tackle Scott to the ground in a hug, half sobbing with worry

“I could get used to a greeting like that”

“please just shut up and hold me”

When Scott fakes his death to attract the benefactor, he has the Sheriff keep you occupied at the station with some paperwork you offered to help with (he didn’t want to worry you)

You find out about his plan a few hours later when he stumbles into the Sheriff’s office looking like death, and after you scream a little about how much of a complete dumbass he is, you collapse in his arms muttering something about him being your dumbass, and Scott can’t help but smile a little

“If you ever pull some shit like that again, I will kill you.”

“Point taken, beautiful.”

He likes to bring you flowers randomly every once in a while just to brighten up your day

Sweet, heartfelt compliments

“You’re beautiful to me in the mornings, at 2AM, after practice, when your makeup is only half done, when you can’t be bothered to brush your hair... you are so goddamn beautiful to me that I still get butterflies when you walk into the room.”

Flirty text messages in class... ALL THE TIME

“those jeans look good on you but they would look better on my floor;)”

He loves when you run your hands through his hair, sometimes just laying across your lap just so you’ll do it to him.

“You are SUCH a puppy, Scott McCall.”

He feels his lungs constrict in his chest just a little bit every time he wakes up next to you, with your bedhead and sleepy smile

FOREHEAD KISSES

Whenever one of you goes to hold the others hand, he brings yours up to his lips absentmindedly to kiss your knuckles and just SHIT it kills you every time

Being each other’s support system

“You may be the Alpha, but you’re also just a teenage boy- one who is allowed to mess up and feel sorry for himself at times. You’re not perfect Scott- and I love you precisely because of that.”

“You love me?” He asks breathlessly, a brilliant grin on his face

“Obviously, puppy.”

Hours later when you’re tangled up on bed together, a rerun of Friends blaring in the background and popcorn in between you as he mumbles in your ear, “You know, I love you too.”

Singing along to cheesy pop songs on the radio and having rap battles on long car rides

“SHAWTY HAD THEM APPLE BOTTOM JEANS JEANS BOOTS WITH THE FUR WITH THE FUR-”

Knowing that for the rest of your life, you have the privilege of waking up next to someone who loves you more than you could ever imagine- and being lucky enough to have someone that loving them feels as natural as breathing

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking about the future, and I used to be so scared of what tomorrow may bring, but now that I have you, it’s almost like nothing could possibly go wrong. And even if it does, I’ll still have you- and as long as I have you, I’m always going to be a winner.”

“Of course you are. You’re the hot girl, Scott”

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shannaraisles · 5 years

Text

Snapshots

A Ko-fi commission fic for @kagetsukai, starring her Hannah Fox and my Poppy Hawke.

---

"Remind me again why we thought this was a good idea today?"

Poppy laughed at Hannah's less-than-impressed expression. They were both more than a little damp, though thankfully not soaked, sheltering under the eaves of a closed cafe in the heart of Kirkwall's one and only city garden. The downpour of rain had came to call a little earlier than either of the girls had expected, resulting in a dash for cover to the tune of far too much hysterical laughter. They were supposed to be distinguished, dignified seniors.

"Because the assignment's due in two days, and we already booked the dark room tomorrow without having any shots to develop?" she suggested innocently, laughing again at the dark look her friend gave her. "Oh, cheer up. It could be worse."

"How?" Hannah didn't look as though she could be convinced.

Poppy sidled close to her, tilting her head onto Hannah's shoulder and batting her lashes playfully.

"Alex could be here instead of me."

To her delight, this did get a small huff of laughter from her best friend. Poppy's twin brother was nothing if not persistent, often proclaiming that the only reason Hannah spent so much time with Poppy was because she secretly wanted to go out with him. Hannah had already put a severe cramp in his flirting techniques at least once, but it just wasn't working. The problem was that her refusals weren’t going to work until Alex saw something else happen - namely, Poppy plucking up her courage to do a little flirting of her own. But how did you go from best friends to girlfriends without losing that friendship? What if Hannah was totally disgusted by the idea? It was a scary prospect. Not to mention their parents' reactions ... Okay, time to stop that spiral before it got out of control.

Hannah was shaking her head, her smile relaxing finally as she looked at Poppy.

"You'd protect me from your brute of a brother, right?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Poppy said. "He's only, what, two feet taller than me? I would gallantly lay down my dignity and my life to stop him from badgering you for the hundredth time this week."

"Oh, my hero." Hannah laughed, slinging her arm around Poppy's shoulders as they shivered together in the damp air. "We could be here for hours, you know."

Fine by me. Poppy didn't have any problem with being tucked under Hannah's arm for hours, but she knew her friend's temper wasn't going to outlast the rain if it fell too long. She was just going to have to woman up and deny herself the cuddle she was unconsciously attempting to prolong.

"We can still get shots in the rain," she pointed out. "Besides, it isn't raining that hard. You're just channeling your inner Wicked Witch of the Wilds."

"If my camera gets screwed because "it isn't raining that hard", I will lovingly kill you slowly over several years," Hannah informed her in a tone that, to anyone else, would have seemed like a threat.

"I see no problem with that," Poppy agreed cheerfully, skipping out into the rain and throwing her arms out, tilting her head back as she grinned up at the cloudy sky, eyes closed beneath the peppering of raindrops. "I will lovingly submit to being killed by you any day."

She heard Hannah's laugh, and the familiar click of a shutter snapping, opening her eyes to find her friend smiling a very mysterious - very beautiful, she privately added - smile at her as she lowered her camera. The heat in her cheeks had to be visible, but with any luck, Hannah would think it was because she was chilly and damp.

"Last time I looked, I wasn't a tree," she pointed out, bouncing in triumph as Hannah finally stepped out into the light rain with her.

"No, you're an addictive substance disguised as a flower," Hannah said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. "C'mon, let's find something stunning to take terrible photos of."

Laughter and determination overcame the rain, and even with drops wetting hair and skin and getting into their eyes, the two girls spent a very enjoyable hour getting into some very damp positions in the hope that their composition would be enough to garner good grades in their shared college class. Poppy had to admit, she was thoroughly enjoying their afternoon, soggy as it was. She always enjoyed spending time with Hannah, though it was always tinged with just a little regret at her own cowardice. But better a coward than alone, right?

"Oh, hey, look!"

Poppy gestured to Hannah, her attention caught by a tiny daisy that had decided to grow, not on the grass of the park, but up between the cracks of the paved walkway. Standing over it, she was utterly charmed by the minute flower, with its white petals bleeding to purple thanks to some impurity in the soil where it had taken root. She pointed her camera lens at it, squinting to get a decent picture as she felt Hannah come up beside her.

"No, not like that," she heard her friend murmur, and felt those familiar, longed-for hands take hold of her, gently shifting her position until the growing sunshine warmed her forehead above the camera.

Hannah's foot tapped between her own, encouraging her to widen her stance, her friend's body molding to her back to push her into a straight bend, hands gripping Poppy's hips to keep her from spilling forward on top of her new subject. And Poppy didn't think twice about trusting the hands that adjusted her position, hands that promised she wouldn't fall so long as they held onto her. She'd trust Hannah with a lot more if she found the courage to express just what she felt.

"Got a good view?"

Hannah's voice was warm against her ear as Poppy tried to concentrate on getting the shot of the little daisy. She could feel her hands shaking, forcing herself to calm down and steady, taking a deep breath in and snapping the picture as she exhaled.

"I got it!" she exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly, straightening a little too fast in the process.

She felt Hannah stumble as the back of her head connected with her friend's chin, the hands that had held her safely grasping for purchase on her windbreaker and tugging her closer as both girls staggered for a moment. Hannah's arms wrapped about Poppy's waist as they found their footing, her voice once again against Poppy's ear with an audible laugh.

"Honey, if you wanted to be in my arms, you only had to ask."

Poppy did not know what possessed her to do it. She twisted, looking into Hannah's gorgeous dark eyes, admiring the damp dark hair drying wild and untamed, the sparkling mischief, the smile she'd seen so many times before, and the words just ... blurted.

"Yes, please."

She had never seen Hannah go from confident laughter to startled delight so fast in her life. In fact, if she hadn't known her best friend as well as she did, she might not have realized it was delight. It looked a lot like stunned astonishment to a casual observer. In fact, Hannah was apparently so surprised that her arms actually tightened around her friend rather than let go.

"What, seriously?"

Poppy winced, exaggerating the expression to try and laugh it off.

"Only if you really want me to swoon," she said, hoping her friend would shrug it off and forget about how fast she had declared her desire to be this close all the time. "Because, I mean, you're - look at you, you're all statuesque and beautiful, and I'm -"

Her self-descriptor never saw daylight, cut off by the sudden sensation of laughing lips touching her own. Her eyes blinked wide, shock and awe and incredible happiness pouring through her so fast she thought she might melt. But over too soon; Hannah pulled back, raising a brow as she smiled back at Poppy.

"You look like a blow-up doll that just got a look at your new owner's package," she informed the other girl.

Poppy shook herself, snorting with laughter at the warm description, and swatted at Hannah's arm in a very measly attempt at defending her gobsmacked expression. Her friend chuckled along with her, not yet letting her escape the wrap of her arms. Rolling her eyes, Poppy forced herself to relax in that embrace, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation even as she shifted to face Hannah properly.

"So ... you did that on purpose, right?" she asked, gesturing with a finger from her lips to Hannah's and back again. "You didn't just ... forget how to interrupt me being an idiot with words?"

"Poppy ..." Her name was a drawled expression of resigned amusement as Hannah hugged her just a little closer. "I love you, you know? You're my best friend, but I think it's deeper. And I think you feel the same way. Don't you?"

Nothing could have stopped Poppy's smile from breaking over her face like the dawn rising over the Bone Pit, a gloriously sunny expression of sudden, absolute contentment with the world and everything in it. She loves me. For a long moment, all she could do was nod, her free hand diving into Hannah's loose hair, cupping her neck, pulling her into another kiss - a proper kiss this time, no surprises or mumbling, just lips on lips, touching, tasting, sealing unspoken promises with certainty.

"Mmm, could you repeat that?" Hannah muttered as they parted, reaching up to skim Poppy's hair from her brow. "I don't think I quite got it."

"Void yes, I love you!" was Poppy's fervent reply, drawing a loud cackle of laughter from Hannah as the two girls hugged each other tightly. "I only have one question, though ..."

Hannah leaned back, tilting her head to look at her askance, curiosity burning in her eyes even as she looped her arm over Poppy's shoulders to resume their walk. Poppy grinned, hugging her own arm about Hannah's waist with the possessiveness she had been trying very hard not to express for months now. Walking together, she glanced up at her friend ... her girlfriend, that familiar imp of mischief tickling at her smile.

"Who's telling Alex?"

#kagetsukai #ko-fi commission #pseudo dragon age fanfic #modern au #highschool au #first kiss #bi kiss #all the cuteness #so much fun to write!#i thought one of them was clueless for a while #turns out she was biding her time

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birdiethebibliophile · 6 years

Text

{fic} Dear Traveler

Fandom: Critical Role (Wildemount Campaign) Rating: T Warnings: Nott-typical body image, references to sex Relationship: Nott/Jester Word Count: 2,544

Here on AO3.

I’m going to have to start a whole collection for fics that are just about Jester kissing girls and I’m not sorry at all. Pretty much unadulterated fluff with one (1) moment of hurt/comfort because I have a brand to uphold.

Summary:

Jester tells the Traveler everything, especially about her friends, and especially one friend who she loves very much and maybe - maybe - thinks is very pretty.

__________________

“Dear Traveler,” Jester said. She was lying on her tummy on her bed, and she had her sketchbook open, and she was using some very pretty paints that Caleb had bought for her last time they were at the markets to draw bea-oo-tee-ful pictures for the Traveler. “I had a good day, mostly, and I put one of your little statues that I made in a place no one would expect it.” She gave a happy little wriggle, and her spaded tail curled over her shoulder. She had put the tiny hooded figure right on top of the sign of the bookstore Caleb had dragged her to, to buy the paints and also lots of paper, of course. It was right at tiefling eye level, but you couldn’t see it unless you turned just the right way, and then there it was. “I am going to have a sleepover with my friend Nott, you remember Nott, I tell you about her allllllll the time, I am doing that tonight. Maybe we are going to talk about our detective agency, and I got lots of pastries, and nail polish because it’s pretty and I think Nott likes being pretty.”

Jester screwed up her face and added more yellow to Nott’s eyes on the page. “I don’t think she thinks she’s pretty, I think,” she told the Traveler. “Just because she is a goblin, but I think that’s silly. All sorts of people can be pretty. Humans like Beau and half-orcs like Fjord and firbolgs like Caduceus and tieflings like me. Well, obviously tieflings because my mama is a tiefling and she is the most beautiful person in the world, but I am just saying that like, she says her pointy teeth are scary, but I have pointy teeth too, and Fjord has his eensy-weensy tusks, so it isn’t that. Or her eyes, but Fjord has yellow eyes too, and Molly had really glowy red eyes. And she is green, but so is Fjord.” Jester chewed thoughtfully on the end of her paintbrush, the part that didn’t have paint all over it. “Fjord and Nott have a lot in common, but they fight a lot. That’s funny.”

There’s a knock on the door. “Come in!” Jester sang out, and the door cracked open, and Nott scuttled in, clutching bottles of nail polish.

“Is Beau going to be here tonight?” Nott asked.

“Nooooo, she has some boring thing she wanted to go to,” Jester said with a pout. “It doesn’t even involve beating anyone up, I think, which I don’t know why it would be fun if no one is getting beat up. Or getting their nails painted. Did you bring the book?”

“Ah, yes,” Nott said, hopping up on the bed. She set down a ragged towel – stained from when they painted their nails before and Jester maybe spilled the bottle a little bit – the bottles, and a book that she got from the bookstore when they were there earlier. “It’s a different one, not Tusk Love, see?” Nott said in her creaky voice, pointing at the cover. A half-orc was batting her eyelashes at a swooning tiefling lady in her arms. “They’re both girls, I hope that’s okay.”

“We’re both girls!” Jester pointed out brightly. “It looks really good, Nott, thanks!”

“Oh, ah, no problem,” Nott said. “What do you want to do first? We have pastries, and the nail polish, and the book. Or we could just talk. Like, girl talk.”

“I love girl talk,” Jester said, bouncing slightly in place, her tail whipping from side to side and almost hitting the headboard of the bed. “I don’t get to girl talk with anyone, Beau likes punching people too much and Yasha is so quiet and Caduceus isn’t a girl, though I don’t think he is maybe all the way a boy either,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “And Caleb and Fjord are boys.”

“Okay, how about I paint your nails, and we play… Truth or Dare?” Nott suggested.

Jester clapped her hands. “Oh, I like that game! I haven’t played it much, just once or twice or maybe zero times because one time I played it with the Traveler but he wasn’t actually there so it was really just me and I dared myself to climb up the roof and I did it.” Jester giggled. This was going to be fun.

“All right, you go first, then,” Nott said, unscrewing a bottle of sparkly red nail polish and taking one of Jester’s hands. Nott’s fingernails were sharp, Jester always noticed, but she was always very gentle with Jester. “Truth or dare?”

“Ummmm.” Jester grabbed her tail and held it in her lap so she wouldn’t accidentally knock over the nail polish while she was thinking. “Dare.”

Nott grinned. She wasn’t wearing her bandages or her mask tonight, and that made Jester happy, though she wasn’t quite sure why. She liked when Nott felt comfortable enough to show her whole entire face, no hood or anything, even. “I dare you to go ask Fjord if he wants his nails painted.”

Jester gasped, a scandalized sound. “Nott! He and Caleb are in your room tonight! They might be –” She lowered her voice. “Having seeeeex or something.”

“I know,” Nott said smugly.

“Okay okay, wait, I still have a third level spell slot, I can use Sending to do it,” Jester said, and scrunched up her nose. “Twenty-five words. Hello Fjord, it is Jester, Nott is painting my nails and she dared me to ask you if you wanted your nails painted too.”

Little busy at the mo’, Jester, Fjord’s reply came back after a second, and Jester squealed and jumped so hard she almost knocked the nail polish over anyways.

“No, no, don’t, I don’t want to hear it!” Nott said as soon as Jester opened her mouth. “No, ah, Truth. Wait, fuck, Dare –”

“You already said Truth,” Jester said, settling back in. “What is… the scariest thing that ever happened to you?”

“The day on the snake island,” Nott replied without hesitation. “Other hand.” Jester switched hands and blew on her nails. She wished she had Prestidigitation – she could dry them immediately with that. “It was really scary and the worst day of my entire life. I almost drowned.”

“I almost drowned too,” Jester said. “And then Fjord breathed air back into me and I didn’t.”

“Oh yeah,” Nott said. “Your first kiss.”

“Yeahhhh, well, it wasn’t really my first kiss,” Jester said. “I mean, yes, it was, but he wasn’t really kissing me, you know, because I was drowning and stuff, and I needed air. And so that was nice, to have air again.”

“Has he kissed you again since?” Nott asked. “Or – oh, have you kissed him?”

“No, of course not,” Jester said scornfully. “All his kissing is going to Caleb, now, which is very nice, because I feel like Caleb probably needs lots and lots of kisses.”

“You got that right,” Nott said. “Do you want another dare?”

“I can’t do a lot of dares without messing up my nail polish,” Jester realized in disappointment.

“Just truths then?” Jester nodded. “All right,” Nott said. “Well, I sort of already asked you a question, about Fjord. So you can ask me one now, if you want.”

“Okay.” Jester glanced around, trying to come up with an idea, and her eyes landed on the book that wasn’t Tusk Love. “Have you everrrrr… kissed another girl?” she asked Nott.

“No,” Nott said. “I’ve kissed a boy, though.”

Jester tilted her head to the side as Nott finished her last finger. “Would you ever want to kiss a girl?”

“It depends on the girl,” Nott said primly. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Jester giggled. “That’s what Truth or Dare is, though, kissing and telling!”

“It’s not all about kissing,” Nott protested, but she was smiling too, and Jester could see all her sharp teeth. Really, Jester thought, Nott wasn’t ugly at all, even a little bit. Her skin was a very pretty shade of green, and her ears were big, and her hair would probably be really nice, when it was washed and stuff.

Nott was pretty.

“Do you want me to paint your nails now too?” Jester asked.

“No, you should at least wait for yours to dry,” Nott said, screwing the top back on the nail polish. “You can do mine after. My turn to ask.” She put the bottle in her pocket like she wasn’t thinking about it, then paused and took it out again. She made a funny face. At least, Jester thought it was funny. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be funny, though, because when Nott spoke again, her voice sounded weird. Jester thought it sounded a little like Caleb’s did right before he got really quiet for a long time.

“Why are you friends with me?” Nott asked.

“That’s your question?” Jester said, confused.

“Yeah,” Nott said. “Just. Answer it. Please.”

“I’m friends with you,” Jester said, “because I really like you, Nott. You’re funny and super smart, like, the smartest of any of us except for maybe Caleb –”

“No one’s smarter than Caleb,” Nott interrupted.

“Yeah, but you’re still very smart,” Jester said insistently. “And you’re fun to talk to and you understand things, sometimes, and you listen to me. I like you, Nott. Do you think we would be detectives together if I didn’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” Nott said. She grabbed her feet so she was all scrunched up. “Lots of people don’t like me. I steal shit and I drink a lot. You, ah, you don’t drink at all.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though,” Jester scoffed. “I’m friends with everybody else and they drink too, except Caduceus. And Beau steals mail.”

“But I’m a goblin,” Nott burst out. “I’m green and ugly and horrible and –”

“Nott! Nott, Nott, Nott,” Jester said.

“Yes?” Nott said in a very small voice.

“Nott, I don’t care that you’re a goblin,” Jester said, and she tried to make her words sound true, because they were, and she was afraid Nott wasn’t going to believe her. “I mean, I hope someday you don’t have to be a goblin anymore because I want you to be happy, but I like you like this.”

“You do?” Nott said, and her voice was still so small, and Jester wanted so, so badly to make it big again.

“Yeah,” Jester said. “I think your ears are really nice, and I think it’s really cool how your eyes are yellow and they can get really big in the dark, and I think your skin is a nice color and I think your hair is really pretty.” Oops. She didn’t mean to say that one.

Nott’s ears lifted up a little. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jester said. “I think all of you is pretty, Nott.”

Nott crept a little closer to her, and Jester felt her heart beat a little faster. “Even my teeth?” she said, and bared them.

“Even your teeth,” Jester said, baring her own pointy tiefling teeth back. “…Do you think I’m pretty?”

“You’re very pretty, Jester,” Nott said, and her voice was soft, but it was a different kind of soft than before. It was a nice kind of soft, Jester thought, a soft she wanted to wrap herself in like a blanket. Nott came a few inches closer, and now she was almost in Jester’s lap, and Jester maybe wanted Nott to be in her lap, maybe.

“You know how I said I never kissed a girl?” Jester said, and she didn’t know what the word for scared and saying things anyway was but that was how she felt. Traveler, she thought, I hope you are helping out here because I don’t know what I’m doing but I think maybe it’s good.

“I do,” Nott said, and she crawled into Jester’s lap. She fit there, it seemed to Jester. Right between Jester’s round thighs, easy to hold.

Jester’s tail snuck forward and wound around Nott’s waist and Jester grabbed it. “Sorry,” she said.

“No,” Nott said. “It’s okay.”

And then Nott kissed her.

It was a little tricky with the sharp teeth and fangs and stuff, but Jester kissed her back, and maybe she was kissing a girl but she was also kissing Nott and Nott was one of her best friends and her detective partner and that, Jester thought, was what made it a good kiss. She took Nott’s face in her hands, not worrying about the nail polish anymore, because she was worried maybe Nott would change her mind, that she would think that Jester didn’t actually want to kiss her, but Jester did very much. She very much wanted to kiss Nott and to keep kissing Nott.

“Wow,” Nott said when they finally stopped kissing because they had to breathe. That was funny, Jester thought – her last first kiss had been because she couldn’t breathe, but this time, it was the kiss that took all her breath away. “Wow, Jessie. That was really nice.” Nott was smiling really big now with all of her teeth, and that made Jester happy the same way Nott taking off her bandages and mask when they were together did.

“It was really nice for me, too,” Jester said. “Nott? Do you think, maybe –” She stopped and scrunched up her nose a little. Maybe she shouldn’t say the next part.

“What?” Nott asked, and she sounded a little anxious instead of happy like she was a second ago, so Jester thought she should probably say it anyways.

“Do you think maybe we could be girlfriends?” Jester asked, and her voice came out like a whisper and that seemed funny to her, so she started giggling.

That made Nott start giggling as well. “Girlfriends?” she said. “Like in the book I got today?”

“Yeah!” Jester said, more enthusiastically now. “We like each other a lot, and we like kissing each other, and I guess we’re basically girlfriends already. And if we don’t like it we could stop.”

“That’s true,” Nott agreed. “That sounds nice.”

“I can take you on a date!” Jester exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We can go to a pastry shop and I can buy you so many – oh, I think we’re going to have to redo my nail polish. It got all messy.”

“Well, if yours is already ruined, you can do mine,” Nott said, putting the bottle in Jester’s hand. “Now we’re not just girl friends, we’re girlfriends.”

Jester was going to have so much to tell the Traveler, she thought. About nail polish and books and sleepovers and her girlfriend, Nott the Brave. But for now, she painted Nott’s nails.

That night after Nott was asleep, curled up by Jester’s head, Jester opened her sketchbook again. “Dear Traveler,” Jester whispered. “I have a girlfriend and she is the prettiest person in the whole world, even if she doesn’t think so.” As she talked, Jester drew the sleepover into her sketchbook with her very prettiest paints: yellow for Nott’s eyes, green for Nott’s skin, and pink for Nott’s nails and the little heart Jester painted above her.

#critfic #critical role #cr fanfiction #nott #nott the brave #jester #jester lavorre #nottster #nott/jester #f/f #otp: case closed #fluff #mine

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