#she doesnt murmur much than a 'night' as he moves away

[toriliashine]

NEED to see irouma making out sloppy style

(Check tags btw i went on a tangent)

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn��t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Spare Me A Moment? // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: I’d love to request a Benedict fic, if that’s okay ☺️ Maybe one where the reader doesnt belong to the ton and works for the Bridgertons and he falls for her but she can’t quite believe it (because why would he fall for someone of her status?) but eventually admits that she has feelings for him too? I hope this is something you’d like to write 🙈 Thank you so much 💛 - @dreaming-about-fanfictions

A/N: My first Bridgerton request and it’s from my dear, Astrid! Thank you, my lovely. I only hope I have done it justice. There are moments in this that are inspired by Downton Abbey (a different time period, I know, but I adapt) and the way the fic is written is meant to jump about POVs before finally bringing the reader or Benedict as the sole focus of the scene.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, female reader, class differences, societal differences, pining, mutual pining, kissing, honest conversations, bridgertons being bridgertons, healthy family relationships.

Word Count: 5.4k

Of the families that resided in Grosvenor Square, there was not one so loved by their staff than that of the Bridgertons. They treated their staff fairly with decent wages and housing well as treating them with respect. The staff that work for the Bridgertons are so admired by the family that those in their employment tend not to leave for years on end; perfectly happy to remain devoted to one family.

To be a housemaid in a home such as Bridgerton House was an honour; as was repeated by the butler, Jenkins and the Head Housemaid, Mrs. Thorpe when (Y/N) began working in the house many years ago.

There was no other way to put it, (Y/N) adored working in Bridgerton House. She never minded the early starts, or the late finishes when the season was in full swing. She could never find herself bothered by having to pick up after the youngest children; their shoes and books lying about hallways and staircases, ready to cause an injury. (Y/N) was utterly devoted to the family; she could never imagine working anywhere else.

And if she had admired the second born Bridgerton with an interest that spoke to more of an employer/servant relationship, then that was (Y/N)’s cross to bear.

-----------

For months he had watched her from the centre of attention. He had observed how she held herself; tall and proud of the work she completed daily.

It had been a passing glance that had started it all. A polite smile and nod from her as Benedict passed in her the hallway, and suddenly he was hit with one, if not all, of Cupid’s arrows. After that, Benedict started to notice (Y/N) everywhere – started to notice the extra attention she paid Hyacinth when she was missing Gregory; he noticed how she would go out of her way to ensure his mother’s comfort in her drawing room, fluffing up cushions and pillows, and offering a blanket should there be a chill.

Benedict began to notice all of this and for a moment, he wondered whether he was beginning to lose his mind. He knew of the barriers between them, but that didn’t stop him from experience the raw emotion of wanting her. Benedict didn’t like to think how many hours of the day he devoted to thinking of her; dreaming of her.

All he wanted was to talk to her. To have a few minutes with her to plead his case; to help her understand that there is the very real possibility of a relationship between then should she feel the same way. How often he had dreamed of her feeling the same way…

A lovesick fool. Benedict Bridgerton was a lovesick fool but should (Y/N) spare him a moment, he would be her lovesick fool.

------------

From the very moment she woke, (Y/N) had been on her feet, rushing from room to room, tidying up after everyone. The whole Bridgerton family would be descending on the main house for the final meal of the day; they were welcoming Anthony and his new wife, Kate, home from their honeymoon.

That meant everything had to be perfect. That meant there was very little time to wander through the house; Jenkins was already close to tears; he could not be pushed any further.

The chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway has (Y/N) hastening her steps, trying not to look too rushed as she thinks of the dinner service still needing to be taken upstairs and the wine to decant and the port to breathe. Whilst Anthony had a collection of whiskies and brandies in his study, the port was kept to the realm of the butler – Jenkins knew exactly what to buy and when to serve it. Tonight was one such occasion, and it still needed to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict calls, hurrying after her as she makes her way back to her quarters to dress for the dinner service. Jenkins, the Butler, would not be best pleased if she were to show up late.

“Mr. Bridgerton, how can I help you?” (Y/N) asks, curtseying to the second-born Bridgerton before eyeing the grandfather clock and noting the time.

“Spare me a moment of your time, please?”

“You should be getting ready for dinner. I know that Benjamin has laid out your clothes.”

“I want to talk to you… only for a moment, I know you have jobs to attend to.”

Smoothing down her apron, (Y/N) smiles softly at the brunette. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I thought it was obvious but perhaps not,” Benedict murmurs to himself, practically ignoring her question.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton but I must be getting on.”

“No!” He all but shouts, reaching for your hand, “Spare me another moment of your time… please.”

She wavers as if caught between the berating she will no doubt receive from the Butler for being late to the dinner service or letting down her employer whom she stands in front of. After a moment’s silence, her decision is made. “How can I help you, Mr. Bridgerton?” She repeats.

“Call me Benedict, please.”

She shakes her head, “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Mr. Bridgerton. It would be improper.”

Benedict hesitates; his hand still outstretched towards her as if desperate to feel her underneath his palms. “I’ve gone about this all wrong,” He says, eyes sad.

“Pardon?”

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict confesses, speaking plainly as if he hasn’t changed her world in six words.

“What?” She gasps; propriety falling away from her for a moment as the words he uttered settle into her skin.

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict repeats, voice firmer as he becomes surer of himself.

“How?” She asks, her face and voice puzzled, “I’m a housemaid, Mr. Bridgerton.”

His eyebrows furrow as if such a thing shouldn’t matter in their world. Yet it does – status is everything; titles are everything. A man who hails from a family such as the Bridgertons could not marry, let alone fall in love with one of the serving class. It simply didn’t happen. There was the occasional affair, but (Y/N) knew herself well enough not to be reserved as a mistress – it was not her destiny. She was to marry for love.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I find myself thinking of you every waking minute of the day. I find it hard not to stare at you when I see you completing your duties. At night, I long for it to be you lying next to me instead of the emptiness of the bed. I don’t know how it happened, (Y/N). All I know is that I am in love with you. This is no farce or folly.”

The words fall over her as rain would fall over grass. They soak into her skin, mould to her bones and become part of her in the span of mere seconds. Mere seconds, and her world has changed. As much as she longed to hear those words from his lips, this could not happen. Moving away from him, her chest aching with every step, she whispers her excuse to escape, “I’m sorry, Mr. Bridgerton, I need to get back downstairs.”

Watching her walk away from him, Benedict feels something heavy settle in his chest, pressing his lungs down and making it difficult to breathe. The barriers between them were so entrenched into society, Benedict begins to worry that he has lost her before he every truly got to know her.

Shaking his head, determination sets his nerves to steel. He would try again, he promises himself. He would not pester, but he would do what he could to ensure a brighter future for the both of them.

----------

“We’re down a footman,” Jenkins panics, “I’ve had to send William to bed with a head cold. We’re down one footman in the dining room.”

“What do you propose we do?” Mrs. Thorpe asks of the grey-haired man. Hands on her hips and her lips, thin, Mrs. Thorpe was not a woman to be trifled with. She had not run Bridgerton House for close to thirty years for Jenkins’ panic to ruin a single evening. So far in their shared career with the Bridgerton family, his nerves had almost ruined an engagement party, a christening, an end of season masquerade ball and now, a traditional family dinner.

The colour fades from Jenkins’ face as he mutters, “I’m going to have to have a housemaid in the dining room.”

Mrs. Thorpe rolls her eyes at the antics of the overly dramatic butler. “It won’t be the end of the world to have a housemaid in the dining room. Take (Y/N) – she’s liked well enough by the family and knows how to serve.”

Jenkins sighs wearily as if the weight of the world rests upon his shoulders. “I suppose I have no choice. Will you let (Y/N) know?”

(Y/N) is walking down the stairs to the lower levels of the house when she hears Mrs. Thorpe call her name. Turning, as she lands on the bottom step, she has a fond smile on her face for the Head Housekeeper. “Mrs. Thorpe,” (Y/N) greets.

“We’re down a footman this evening, dear,” Mrs. Thorpe says in greeting, never one to beat around the bush, “Would you be able to cover the dining room with Jenkins and Benjamin?”

“The dining room?” (Y/N) questions as the rug is pulled from underneath her feet for the second time that afternoon. It would mean having to see Benedict once more, but what choice was there.

“Yes,” Mrs. Thorpe confirms, “There aren’t enough bodies to cover the whole family. Everyone is dining tonight.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) smiles, “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll also take William a tray when I get a moment’s reprieve.”

Mrs. Thorpe smiles; the corners of her eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You are a gem. Thank you, dear.”

(Y/N) nods, smiling at the Head Housekeeper though she knows it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Having to see Benedict so soon after his confession had sent her mind into overdrive; her stomach tying itself into knots – she could only hope that the gentleman wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t humiliate her in front of his whole family.

Mrs. Thorpe touches (Y/N)’s shoulder, asking her softly, “Is everything okay, dear?”

(Y/N) nods, trying her best not to let her emotions show on her face. She had been blindsided by Benedict and his confession; didn’t ever expect such words to leave his mouth… well, expected them but never thought they would be directed at her.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Thorpe,” She smiles and whilst the Head Housekeep returns the smile, she does not believe the one on (Y/N)’s face for a moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay to help out in the dining room? Jenkins can always find someone else.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, knowing the butler better than she knows herself. “He would cause such a panic. No, it’s better I do it myself.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” She pats Mrs. Thorpe’s hand. “I am sure.”

-----------

It takes everything she has to stop her hands from shaking as she enters the dining room with her tray of food. Following Jenkins’ lead, (Y/N) holds her head high as she serves the Bridgertons, beginning with Anthony and then making her way from his right.

Benedict all but freezes in his spot when (Y/N) finally comes to serve from his left shoulder. He turns in his chair to find her staring down at him; a serving plate in her hand, the tongs pointed in his direction. Their fingers brush as Benedict reaches for the utensil sending a zap of static electricity up (Y/N)’s arm. She sucks in a breathe, desperate to keep the connection between them yet she is the one who straightens, who schools her face into a mask of polite interest.

“Thank you,” Benedict whispers, still unable to take his eyes off her.

“You’re welcome,” She replies, swiftly moving onto Gregory who sits patiently by Benedict’s side.

Jenkins who had noticed the exchange between Benedict and (Y/N) clears his throat, gaining the attention of the family waiting to start their meal. “I am terribly sorry for the informality. William took ill at the last moment and (Y/N) graciously offered to fill his shoes.”

Anthony Bridgerton smiles at (Y/N). “Thank you, (Y/N), for stepping in so quickly,” He states before turning his attention to Jenkins, “Has a tray been organised for William? Do you need us to contact the doctor?”

Jenkins watches the young Viscount with warm eyes; having known the Viscount since he was a babe in arms, it has been his pride and joy to watch him grow to the man he is today. “(Y/N) has offered to take a tray to William as soon as she is finished here. As for the doctor, my Lord, it seems only to be a head cold.”

“Let us know if anything changes, please.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

As food is served and wine is poured, happy and warm conversation flows through the Bridgerton family. Laughter is the most often heard sound in the Bridgerton home; it punctuates the air whether the chuckle and giggle comes from a member of the family or a member of staff.

Tonight is no different, it seems, as Hyacinth snorts midway through her laughter at Gregory’s latest antics. Visiting home for the weekend from Eton, Gregory was on hand to entertain his brothers and scandalise his dear mother with stories of his school life.

“I do hope you are paying attention in your lessons,” Violet admonishes her youngest son though there is nothing but maternal love in her voice.

Gregory smiles widely, holding a hand over his heart as he promises, “I do nothing less.”

His words receive an amused snort from all three brothers and a roll of eyes from his mother. (Y/N) turns her face away from the loving scene to keep the smile on her face from growing. This; this is what she years for – family, love, laughter and warmth. No matter how Benedict phrases his feelings, and no matter how she may feel for the Bridgerton, a relationship that harbours the four things (Y/N) holds dear would be impossible due to her station. A sad fact, but a universally accepted truth.

The topic of conversation once again shifts; this time focusing on the latest branch in literature. A novel had been published that had managed to scandalise not only the religious community, but also the scientific one. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was, to (Y/N), two things. Not only was it a book that promised the reader to be horrified, but it was written by a woman. Shelley was not the first female author, and she would not be the last but this latest venture into a new genre of literature inspired pride within (Y/N). With the growing availability of books through libraries, (Y/N) felt it was only time before something big happened in the fight for rights for women.

Though she kept those thoughts readily to herself.

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Benedict asks, blue eyes sparkling over the rim his wine glass as every member of his family turns to look at her.

Eyes wide with shock, she glances over to Jenkins. He nods but he doesn’t look pleased at her having been called on by the employer. Taking a step forward, she curtsies slightly before answering, “I couldn’t possibly say, Mr. Bridgerton, sir. I haven’t read the book.”

“Come now, (Y/N),” Benedict continues, his smile growing wider, “You must have an opinion.”

“Benedict,” Violet chastises, “Leave the poor girl alone. She’s only serving tonight as William has fallen ill. There is no need to badger her.”

Violet smiles at (Y/N) apologetically as she takes a step back to the wall, her hands held neatly in front of her. Conversation soon turns to another subject, another topic which gives (Y/N) the space to breathe; to slow her racing heart.

Benedict’s eyes continue to steal glances of her figure for the rest of the meal. It feels close to a brand; the heat of his gaze burns through whatever shield she has up to the point where she is certain Benedict has laid her bare for all to see. It’s all she can think of; his keen gaze and his words to her before the meal.

Trying her best not to fidget, (Y/N) keeps her eyes focused on the portrait of a Bridgerton ancestor hung on the wall across from her. She only rouses herself from her nerves to serve the courses of the meal. (Y/N) cannot help but thank any god or deity out there when the dessert course is brought up and the meal is soon brought to a close.

-------------

It is easy to avoid someone when you ask for extra duties, (Y/N) thinks to herself as she carries a pile of dresses to be mended. The muslin is smooth against her skin as she lays the dresses out on the mending table before turning to find the sewing kit. Thankfully, for the dresses, there was not much to be done but mend a few holes that had torn near the hem. The danger of heels and quick walking women, (Y/N) humours.

It had been a week since the conversation with Benedict; his words constantly playing on her mind until she wakes in the middle of the night with them on her lips, as if she were reciting the conversation in her sleep.

Benedict had tried to gain her attention; he had made clear attempts at wanting to talk to her. However, she simply curtsied and went on her way. She didn’t know what to say to him; she couldn’t understand how he – the son of a Viscount, no less – had fallen in love with her.

It felt preposterous; it felt too good to be true. Yet as the oil lamps are dampened for the night and the other servants in the house have fallen asleep, (Y/N) lets herself dream of what it could be like to be loved by Benedict Bridgerton. She wonders about the curve of his mouth; what it feel like, whether he would smile into their kiss. She thinks of his hands; his long, artistic fingers and she briefly ponders whether he had ever drawn her, whether in his many sketchbooks there lies a portrait of her.

When she’s feeling a particular glutton for punishment, (Y/N) lets herself dream of a life with Benedict where class status didn’t matter. She thinks of what it would be like to wake up to him every morning; to feel the heaviness of his arm wrapped around her waist as he rises to consciousness with the sun. She yearns to know what it would feel like to be able to reach over and take his hand in hers, tangling their fingers together as if they had always meant to be intertwined.

The longing for him is what breaks her. It’s what causes the tears to roll down her face as she lets herself accept the fact that she is sure she has known for a long time. She lets herself accept that she had met the cliché of so many housemaids before her by falling in love with Benedict Bridgerton a long time ago, before he had even come to know her existence.

-----------

The drawing room on the upper level of the house was where Violet Bridgerton spent most of her day. On occasion, her sons’ joined the family, but for the most part, it was her daughters that kept her company. Violet remains occupied by her stitching patterns; a garden of tulips for the birth of Anthony’s darling new baby, however, she keeps a weather eye on Eloise and Hyacinth – her only daughters to remain at home and unmarried.

“Eloise,” Violet murmurs, “Would you be a dear and ring for some tea. My throat is parched.”

Eloise pauses in her writing; so occupied these days, Violet thinks as her second eldest daughter rises to ring for the kitchen. “What are you working on?” Violet asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Eloise frowns, collecting the papers out of fear anyone should read them. “I’m writing to Penelope if you must know.”

“Writing? She lives just across the way, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you calling on her.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Eloise allows, “But there is nothing wrong with practicing my handwriting, is there mother?”

Violet smiles; a pained one that shows her exhaustion with her beloved daughter. “No, my dear. There is no harm in that.”

Eloise nods, smiling softly at her mother before returning to her letter. Violet watches her for a moment; the way her eyes read and reread the sentences written on the page – this was not a letter to Penelope; it was to a suitor. Violet knew full well, however, that Eloise would come to her when ready – she was not someone to be pushed into giving information.

Returning to her stitching, Violet finds that her attention is once more interrupted by the opening of the door. She sighs, placing the stitching down, curious as to whether she would get the piece done before the arrival of the sweet babe.

Turning to face the door, she is surprised to find her second-born, Benedict entering the room. His eyes, sad and his expression, solemn as he runs a hand again and again through his hair.

“Mother,” Benedict greets, leaning down to press a kiss to her ageing cheek. “May I speak with you about a private matter?”

Violet’s eyebrows furrow but she says nothing as she dismisses her daughters; each one complaining as they leave the room, closing the door behind them. At the click of the lock, Violet smiles warmly at her son – he was so different from Anthony and Colin, not the least interested in their games such as Pall Mall but would rather sit to the side with his sketchbook in hand. He had a boisterous streak; could play with the rest of them, but he had his moments where he fall into a tranquil state and produce artwork that could rival the greats.

Nerves tangling his stomach to pieces, Benedict begins to pace the room. His hands are hooked behind his back as he begins to pace backwards and forwards, trying to form sentences from the jumble of words in his mind. He knew, deep down, that whatever he should want to do with his life, his beloved mother would support him, but even Violet Bridgerton could not ignore the class lines so entrenched within society.

“Benedict, my dear, you’re beginning to make me dizzy. Stop pacing and tell me what’s wrong.”

Benedict pauses his pacing but does not sit down. Instead, he stands as still as a stone, hands gesturing wildly as he tries to form thoughts into sentences. Mouth opening and closing, he struggles of how to bring up the issue of love and marriage.

“You would never stand in the way of who we love, would you?” He finally asks, running a hand through his deep brown hair.

Violet frowns, “I would not considering they were within reason. Why? Have you fallen in love, Benedict?”

“I think… No. I know I have, but there’s a problem.”

“Are they a drunk?”

“No.”

“Do they gamble?”

“No.”

“Then whatever is the matter?”

“She’s a servant. A housemaid to be precise… in this house.”

Violet would be the first to admit that she is surprised by her son’s admission. Sighing, she pats the cushion next to her, urging her son to sit down. “Who?” she asks as Benedict falls into the seat beside her.

“(Y/N),” He admits, fiddling with the hem of his jacket.

She runs a hand through his hair, “Does she love you too?”

“I don’t know,” Benedict admits, “She ran off after I confessed.”

“Then I need to speak to her to find out once and for all,” Violet declares, smoothing out her skirts.

“Mother…” Benedict groans. Violet shakes her head, “Let me talk to her. I can reassure her in ways you cannot. I can tell her that I approve.”

“You approve?” He asks, shocked at the words leaving hid mother’s mouth. “I thought you would disapprove…”

“Because of her class? My dear boy, you have found your love match, that is all I wish for my children. Should (Y/N) feel the same then of course I approve. I would rather you be happy than miserable, my son.”

“Thank you, mother,” Benedict replies, kissing her cheek once again, “You’re truly the best there are.”

Violet blushes at her sons words, dismissing him with a wave of her fan. “Off with you, and ring for Jenkins before you go.”

Benedict bows before pulling the cord by the door. Leaving the room, Benedict cannot help the smile that crosses his face. He truly holds some hope that (Y/N) might feel the same as he does and if his mother should approve, then there should be no issue to their courting and their union.

----------------

(Y/N) wrings her hands together on entire walk to Lady Violet’s drawing room. Having been summoned by the Lady herself, this could be either of two things. One: she was about to find herself suddenly unemployed for reasons she did not yet know. Or two: Lady Violet knows about the conversation with Benedict.

Neither reason made (Y/N) feel particularly confident as she is shown into the drawing room. Her heart remains in her throat even as Lady Violet smiles at her warmly; gesturing for her to sit down across from her and take some tea.

Adding one lump of sugar to her tea, Lady Violet bluntly asks, “Do you love my son, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) promptly drops her spoon into her tea causing it to splash on the table cover. “Oh!” She gasps, reaching for a napkin to clean up the mess as best she can, “I am so terribly sorry, Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet chuckles, “It’s no problem, (Y/N). Tea tends to wash out as I am sure you are well aware. I do not want to think of how many table cloths and dresses I have stained in my time… but I love the drink so many more stains are due to come.”

“My mother says that the world can be put to rights over a good cup of tea.”

“Your mother sounds very wise.”

“She is,” (Y/N) nods, smiling wistfully as she thinks of her mother with the fondness of a child. “I write to her nearly every day. She likes to hear about the city and what is happening. She feels as if the Bridgertons are her own family.”

Violet beams at that, “I am glad to hear it, (Y/N), but you have not answered my question.”

“I apologise, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Are you in love with Benedict?”

(Y/N) remains silent for a moment before beginning to nod her head. “I am. I know I am,” (Y/N) begins, “But…”

“But what?”

“I could bring nothing to the courtship and then nothing to the marriage. My family are not rich enough for me to have a dowry; I have no title or land; I barely know proper etiquette – I would offend everyone the moment I stepped through the door. On top of that, think of the social connections Benedict would lose – there would be families who would never speak to him again all because he had the rotten luck to fall in love with me.”

Violet’s blue eyes grow determined as she begins to list off: “You do not need a dowry; we have enough money as it is. There is no need for you to have a title or land, Benedict has his own homes. In terms of etiquette, you converse with me quite well, so I see no issue there. As for social connections, if people cannot see how happy you make my son then that is their issue, not yours and not Benedict’s.”

“What about the Viscount, Lady Bridgerton? Surely he has final say.”

A glimmer of something maternal shines in Violet’s eyes as she smiles. “Let me handle my eldest son. You have no reason to worry, (Y/N). Benedict loves you. I will not stand in the way of his happiness.”

“So you approve?” (Y/N) asks, forgetting herself for a brief moment before dipping her head in apology.

Violet dismisses her apology with a wave of her hand; after all, if things go to plan, she would be calling (Y/N) daughter in no time. “Do I approve of having to find another housemaid as talented as you? No, I do not. But do I approve of the lady that my son has given his heart to? Absolutely. To be entirely truthful, I would rather it be you than someone in society.”

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) says gratefully, feeling the all too familiar prick of tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Now go,” Violet smiles, the familiar sting of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “Go find my son and tell him how you feel.”

Standing from the chair, (Y/N) curtsies with a smile before rushing from the room. Her mind in a daze as to what has truly happened just now.

-------------

(Y/N) finds Benedict in the library, sat awkwardly in one of the chairs with his sketchbook propped up in his lap. He’s focused entirely on the sketch at hand; his mouth set in a determined line as a finger delicately smudges part of his work.

For a single instant, (Y/N) watches Benedict in his element, finding that the butterflies in her stomach have turned from slumbering to a full blown riot at the mere sight of the man that had captured her heart. Still riding on the high from her conversation with Lady Bridgerton, (Y/N) steps further into the room. Benedict freezes in place at the sight of her stood by the stacks of books; her eyes are bright, and her skin flushed as she fiddles with the hem of her apron.

The painting flashes in his mind suddenly and his fingers twitch with the urge to turn the page of his sketchbook whilst simultaneously asking her to remain still so he can immortalise her on page. She’s perfect; she’s the perfect model and she doesn’t even realise it; Benedict thinks to himself.

“Spare me a moment?” She asks tentatively, as if worried of his reaction.

“All my moments are for you,” Benedict whispers honestly setting her heart racing in her chest. He stands from the chair, long legs coming out from under him as he leaves his sketchbook behind.

“All mine are for you too, if you’ll still have me…”

“What?”

“I love you too,” She confesses, voice small as she fiddles with her fingers, eyes cast on them – too scared to meet his gaze.

A finger under her chin has her meeting his deep blue eyes. Eyes that are alight with the happiness that surges through his veins; that highlight just how his heart sings at hearing those magical words leave her mouth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” (Y/N) begins to ramble, “There is so much that is standing in the way for us, and I know you do not care or at least, I think you do not care but I cannot help but worry that if we were to happen, one day you would wake up and regret every moment of it. I am not from the same class as you, Benedict, I do not want to ruin you.”

A smile breaks across his face despite the stark desperation of her words. She furrows her eyebrows, half in curiosity, half in concealed frustration. “What are you smiling at?” She demands.

His hands move to cradle her face; thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as he chuckles, “You called me ‘Benedict’.”

Thinking over her words, she smiles despite herself. “I suppose I did.”

“As for your worries: I do not think there will be one day in my future that I will not wake up and be grateful. However, that will only happen if you are in it – if I am waking up to you every morning. Darling, I do not think you can ruin me. I think you will be the making of me.”

“Do you promise? Not to regret me?” She whispers, a note of vulnerability in her voice.

“I promise,” He vows, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then to her nose and cheeks. Then as he hovers above her lips, he whispers, “With every moment you spare me, I could never regret falling in love with you.”

******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley​

Taglist is open! If you would like to be added, drop a message to my ask box and I shall add you to the list.

[fairestwriting]

May i please request a scenario of Yandere Malleus where his s/o (female, if thats ok) is broken. Like, she doesnt move anymore and she rarely blinks, and she just stares blank in the air. Thank u~

notes: content warning for general... yandere abusive behavior and kidnapping. i probably wont post anything like this often because i dont want to come off as if im condoning it or anything but, well. a request is a request

word count: 485

+ ko-fi link, if anyone feels like financially supporting my writing

The attic is shrouded in darkness, feeble monlight barely making its way through the cracked glass pane of the small window. There’s so much dust it soaks the air, flavoring it. Breathing is hard. No one should be here.

But Malleus is here. Malleus is here often, multiple times a day, he’d been making his visits for a while now -- Since she had gone missing.

What a tragedy that was, no? A student of Night Raven College disappearing without a trace, nowhere to be seen even as they searched the entire campus. A tragedy.

They hadn’t given up yet, either, but they would soon. Malleus of all people would know that -- Because he planned it, and he caused it, and now he sits in Ramshackle’s attic, tucked away and secure, in complete peaceful silence months after the incident. Everything was so easy now, it’d be even easier sooner.

He can’t help but grin, and his arms around her limp, yet conscious body, press her closer to him. She’s still warm. His hand carefully toys with the strands of hair near her face, twirling them with his fingers, blissfully receiving not even a single response.

“Have you heard about it, my love?” He asks, barely a whisper. Nothing. She’d given up on talking a while ago, but he’s still ecstatic everytime he’s met with silence, missing their conversations or not. He could put something like that aside if it meant he got to have her all to himself. “The search party seems to be getting smaller. Aren’t you happy to hear about it?”

He lets the lock of hair on his hand go, it falls gracefully to the side, touching her cheek. Malleus feels his heart swell. He pets the same cheek that the hair had touched.

“We’ll get to be together forever when they’re gone.” He goes on. Her breathing is so slow, so quiet he barely feels her move against him. “I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll bring you to the Valley of Thorns one day, you’ll get to be my queen... without any nonsense, too.”

A chuckle leaves him, he can’t help it. Being around his love just makes him so happy.

“I’ll have a room just for you, so much better than this place. You’ll have everything that you deserve there, I’ll come to see you every day. You’ll be my queen, and no one will even have to look at you.”

Silence, silence, silence. There’s a mirror in front of them, it’s too dark for most to see, even Malleus is having some trouble -- But he can watch her beautiful eyes close and open in a rare blink, hiding the dulled irises for just a moment. Everything about her is just perfect.

“Just the way it should be, yes?” He murmurs, pulling her closer.

She’s perfect -- A perfect little doll, and one that’s all his.

[laboflove]

Oikawa & Iwa X FR

•Aged up•

Word Count- 2363

❗Warnings❗{Smut, angst, praising, infatuation, ridiculing, cheating, body shaming}

A/N: Thicc Y/N who's dating Oikawa and although he says he loves her it doesnt seem that way.

He smiles as he sees your eyebrows pushed together, you were always so cute when you were angry, he just wanted to keep making fun of you to see that face. "Tooru" you suddenly say making his smile fade, "Yeah?" He says confused and your phone buzzes, "Nevermind, I have to go, Iwa is here" you say then kiss his cheek before leaving.

A frown forms on his face as he sees you walk off, you were always hanging out with Iwaizumi. It made him mad because you were HIS girlfriend not Iwaizumi's. He huffs then leaves as well, whatever, hed just make you remember how great it is to date him.

You walk in to find him on your bed and he smiles, "Hey" you both say, you climb onto the bed forgetting about today at work and he pulls you onto his chest. "Did you gain weight? Damn" he says with a chuckle making the thoughts come back, "I think, I'll lose it dont worry" you whisper as you move off and onto the side.

He pulls you close, his hands trailing your body making you anxious, you werent skinny like other girls, you had curves and Oikawa would always tease you about it, middle school to now and you always tried to lose weight but youd gain it back. An endless cycle and honestly the last thing you wanted right now was for him to be touching you like this.

Yet you dont stop him, instead closing your eyes and trying to fall asleep but his hands get more touchy, soon enough spreading your legs. "Not tonight Tooru" and his frown appears again, that's the second time this week you've called him that. "Okay" he says then turns around and you both fall asleep, one angry and confused and the other filled with dark thoughts.

"I just dont understand, shes been calling me Tooru this entire week, why?" He says as he passes the ball to Iwa, "Its your name" He says making him huff. He knew it was his name but you've never called him that before, so why now?!

"I dont like it, she never calls me that so why now? Did I do something wrong?" He says and Iwa stops, "You always make fun of her, im surprised she hasn't dumped you yet" and Oikawa's mouth goes dry. His biggest worry, something he never wants to happen, for you two to break up, you meant everything to him, youd always lift him up, give him pointers and take care of him. You couldn't leave him, you're all he had.

"S-she knows I'm just kidding, I don't mean any of it" he says then the ball flies towards him, "Iwa-!", "It always sounds like you mean it, you tell her shes fat, that shes not pretty enough, that she isnt smart, terrible shit but you never say that you're just kidding. Even then you shouldnt say shit like that to someone who already deals with criticism as it is, you especially shouldn't say it to her because shes your goddam girlfriend" he leaves and Oikawa clenches his fists.

"Hey!" And he looks back, "Do you like her?!" He yells out earning a nod making his blood boil, "I've liked her since middle school, even more in high school and the most right now, but she made the stupidest decision on dating you" and he walks off again.

"Youd never leave me right?" He asks as he rests his head on your chest, you dont answer making him look up with dim eyes, "You would?" He asks and you sigh, "If something were to happen yes but just breaking up with you for no reason would not happen" and he nods. "Um, what would be the reason?" He whispers remembering the conversation with Iwa, "If one of us cheats, I'd never do it but well..." you stop and he looks up at you.

"I-im sorry, I'll never hurt you like that ever again, so please dont leave me" you nod then place a kiss on his head.

He looks back at the tv but hes barely focusing on it, only remembering that night. He was drunk, saying terrible stuff and when he woke up he found you in front of him, sitting down, looking super tired and your eyes were so dry and red. He didnt know why till he looked around and found unfamiliar clothes, women's clothes.

You didnt talk to him about it, none of you brought it up and soon you were both back to normal but he knew that all trust created was gone.

His thoughts are broken by the familiar buzz pattern and you pull the phone to your ear, "Hey" you say with a smile, why cant you smile like that when you talk to him? Why doesnt your voice get all cute and soft with him? Why is it only with Iwa?

"Oh I'm with Oikawa" you say as your hand runs through his hair, he smiles and even more as you rest it on his cheek. "I-iwa" your hand twitches slightly and he can feel your aura change, "Dont call me until your done with that crap, God, you're worse than Oikawa" you put your phone down and he looks up at you.

"What's wrong?" He asks but you shake your head, "Its nothing, just Iwa being a bit of an asshole" he nods and you look at the tv.

"He doesnt love you, he says all that shit which he shouldnt be saying, what if he cheats on you again huh? "

You let out a sigh then close your eyes, uh oh, you're pissed.

"Hey" you hear, turning around you see them and shoot a smile, "Hey guys" you say as you slowly come to a stop. "Whatre you doing here?" One asks, "Oh uh well you know working out" you say and they nod. "Any specific reason? You look perfect already" you laugh making them confused, "Yeah right, if I was Oikawa wouldnt judge me 24/7" you say and they tilt their heads.

"Anyways, I'm gonna get back to this" you say with a small smile and they head to the other side, "Whatre you thinking?" Akaashi asks as Bokuto glares in your direction. "I'm thinking that I want to kill Oikawa", "As much as I'd love to help you do that, its illegal" he says and he huffs. "Only if i get caught".

"Whatre you doing?" He asks as his arms wrap around your waist, you step off and you smile, "Yes" you say and he rubs your stomach, it's not as squishy as before. "I finally lost 15 pounds" you whisper with a large smile and although he should be congratulating you it doesnt make sense. "Whyd you lose weight?" He asks and you look back, "For you, you wanted me to lose it remember?" You say and he looks at you in the mirror.

"I'll love you no matter what", "Haha, yeah right Mr. I want a trophy wife who's beautiful and perfect" you say then move away, his heart clenches hearing you say the words he regrets telling you. He didn't want anyone but you.

"Y-you know I love you right?" He says and you look at him, you dont say anything making his heart break. "I do Tooru, it's just hard to believe" and he looks down, "Okay".

"Y/N" he says for the thousandth time this night, "Are you even listening to me?! It's like you dont care about me! You're always off with Iwaizumi doing God knows what! Why cant you just love me! Only me!" The tears keep falling but you dont look back and you dont let a sob escape. For three days it's been like this, him finding anything to ridicule about and making sure you knew how terrible of a girlfriend you were.

You stand then look at the tree your parents gave you, well it was meant for both of you, something to resemble your love for each other, always growing and alive till death.

A sigh escapes your lips and you walks up to it, "Just as I suspec-", "If I cut this down does that mean were done too?" You ask surprising him. "What does that mean?" He asks and you turn to look at him, "I want to break up" and he looks down. You're crying, you're actually crying, hes never seen you cry, you always refused to look at him whenever you did so hes never got to see it and he wishes he never did.

"Why?", "Why? Why?! Why else Tooru?! Every second I spend with you hurts me! The love in our relationship cant even compare to the amount of pain there is! You give me so much shit and i try to be better, i try to become someone perfect for you but theres always something! I dont love Iwa like I love you! I never have! I only love you but it's like you dont think i do! Even though you're the one that cheated! You're the one that broke the trust! I should've broke up with you before!" You cover your mouth realizing what you just said and you look away.

You were right but why did you say all that stuff to him, he looks at you but quickly looks away. "I'm leaving" you say then rush past him, "W-where are you going?" He asks as he follows you upstairs, you couldn't leave, not like this. He has to say sorry, he has to fix it, he cant lose you!

"I dont know but I cant stay here" you pack stuff up as you avoid his hands, "No" he suddenly says as you reach for the front door. "Bye" you leave in a rush and he looks around, "NO! GET BACK HERE!" and he falls to ground. It actually happened, you left him, you left him and it's his fault, who's going to love him now? Who's going to help him when he gets sick and who's he going to tease?

He leans in as he holds you close, "I love you" he whispers but you stop him, "Its been two months yet you still push me away", "I didnt have sex with Tooru till we were five months in" you say but he doesnt stop, "Oh c'mon, you know you want to so ju-", "Can you stop? I'm really not in the mood for anything like this" you say as you push his hands away from your stomach and thighs.

"Oh I get it" he says as he pins your hands above your head, "You think I'm like Oikawa, that I'll point out your flaws, that I'll think you're ugly, that I dont actually want you" he says into your ear and you look away, he was right and you both knew that. "Well guess what, we all have flaws, I dont think you're ugly and damn do I want you" he kisses you hard but your squirm in his embrace.

"N-no Iwa stop" you let out with a soft moan as he rubs his knee against your clothed heat, "Why? We both want this, you just cant admit it" his tongue trails up your neck as you resist him only making him want you more. "So soft and you always smell so good" he murmurs as you grind against his knee although your mind is saying you dont want this.

"So pretty, especially these moans" desperate whines leave your mouth as he slowly undresses you, "Heh, I think we should take this to the bed" he says as he looks down at your naked body.

Your arms cover yourself as much as they can as he lifts you bridal style, "M-maybe we should wait, i-i should lose a few m-", "Shut the hell up or else I will tie you up" you nod fast and he places you on the bed. "Fuck me" you turn red seeing his eyes take you in, he reaches for his shirt and you move up to help him but he pushes you down making you bounce a bit.

"Stay right there" he undresses as you watch, once hes done he spreads your legs making your body heat up and filling you with so many emotions. "So perfect" he says as he pushes in slowly, you hiss slightly at the feeling you havent felt in such a long time. "Ah- no, Haji-!" He thrusts harder and faster making the frame hit the wall, over and over.

"So warm, so tight and it feels so good" moans leave his mouth making you bite your lip, this felt so different, way too different. "Dont think about him" he says as he thrusts hard sending your eyes wide open, "I-I dont know how he fucked you, or if hes a goddamn sub but dont! Fucking! Think about him!" He growls out with a thrust each time, feeling angry that even now you're still thinking about him. "Sorrysorrysorry!"

Pants leave his mouth as cries leave yours, "God I love you, I love you so much" he mutters as he looks at your pink cheeks and tears falling down your face, he lowers next to your ear as one hand holds your thigh as the other holds your head close to him. "I love the way you just clamp around me" his hips slow down, grinding against you, "I feel like coming every time I thrust into you, that's how good you feel" you tighten around him as the praises keep coming.

Why did this feel so good? Just his words were getting you there and it was so embarrassing that he made you feel this way. "I just cant believe that the woman I've loved since I was 13 is finally mine, that were here together and you're in my arms" he stops to kiss you and you sniffle slightly, "You can come now" a soft cry fills the room as you come and he thrusts a bit more leading to groans and a warm feeling in your core.

"You're mine, only mine".

[jessiebanethedragon]

so i randomly thought about a fic with crosshair with his iconic line "you miss me? how touching" and im kinda shocked about how it doesnt exist! so i went to you to request this 👉👈 bcs you're one of my fav fic writers and i'd like to see it from you, no pressure though! bcs i know you dont exactly have all your hours to provide us with fan content :] <3

Hello! thank you so much for this request i’ve been in love with the idea for so long sorry it took me ages to get it written! anyways here it is! 

love ya oxoxox Jessie

Miss you (Crosshair x separatist!Reader)

You met Crosshair in a hurricane of cruses, punches and a bloody nose on his part. And from the glare he sent you way after Hunter had wrestled you into binders, you knew the mutual feeling of hatred was obvious. And of course, when the republic so graciously offered to help you make amends, in return for separatist intel and a forgoing of your prison sentence they put you back into the clutches of Clone Force 99. 

Crosshair could not stand you. With enough cheek and sass to rival his own, and looks that were infuriatingly good, the resident sniper had it out for you. 

But to be fair, you hated him as well. You hated how tall he was, how his deceivingly slim frame gave way to sturdy muscle that your hands had been over top of on a singular occasion that you couldn't get out of your head. 

“Tell me the layout again.” Sergeant Hunter demanded, standing over a disastrously incorrect map of a separatist base. 

“You’d be better off without a map at all!” Exclaimed throwing your hands up in defeat, “the weapons room is here, on the west side of the basement. Not on the east side of the top floor.” You went through the entire map again and again, in order for Hunter to relay it to Tech when him and Crosshair got  back from intel. 

“I still don't understand why we have to be out in the middle of nowhere.” Tech’s voice crackled through the comms. 

“Because She can’t be trusted.” Crosshair hissed. 

“She has been completely honest with us thus far.” Tech retorted, 

“She has a name” You called into your vambrace, 

“Fine, The separatist cannot be trusted.” Oh you could hear the smirk in his voice now. And the damn sniper wore it so well… 

“Ex-separatist.” Wrecker kindly pointed out in your defence. 

“Enough. All of you, Tech what's your status?” Hunter cut in, giving up on the holo-map completely. 

“Approaching the south entrance stand by.” You furred your brows, south, why did they go to the south. You distinctly remember telling them to go North… oh, oh shit. 

“Tech! Abort mission!” You said into your comm, grabbing your blaster and pack off of the walls of the ship. “Tech! Do not approach the south entrance. I repeat do not engage at the south entrance!” Why, Why did they never listen! You looked at Hunter and Wrecker who seemed unbothered. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Spitfire?” Wrecker asked teasingly, “South entrance is unguarded.” 

“According to your map, but according to me the south entrance is next to…” “The Barracks.” Hunter finished for you, before running into the cockpit shouting into his comms. You and Wrecker shared a look of panic. 

“Are you coming with me or not?”  You asked him, and his eyes darted to the cockpit where Hunter was currently firing up the engines and the ramp that was beginning to close. 

“I’ll meet you there Spitfire.” He promised, brothers come first, you could understand that. And even though you knew the Havoc Marauder could get there faster, something other than your brain told you that you had to go on foot. And so you threw yourself out of the rising ship, and onto the forest floor of a separatist planet. 

And that, well that brings us to the present situation, finding yourself once again in a pair of binders and your comrades nowhere to be found. In hindsight, trampoline through the undergrowth like a bantha on spice wasn't the best idea. But maybe you cared more for Clone  Force 99 than you’d like to admit. 

“Where are they?” Whorm Loathsom sneered, far too close for comfort. 

“The term ‘they’ is pretty ambiguous, could you perhaps speci-fy” your sentence was cut off as his clawed hand met your throat, your own hands fumbling at his face as you struggle for air. 

“I’ll ask you again, traitor. Where are the clones you’ve been travelling with?” Loathsom didn’t let up on his grasp, and the corners of your vision were beginning to blur. 

“At... your... mother’s.” You choked out, still trying to wriggle out of his grasp. His claws were beginning to cut into your skin, and you knew blacking out was imminent. 

“I don’t think you have the time for sarcasm.” He hissed, increasing the pressure causing you to flounder in his grasp. “Now, i’m giving you a chance for redemption here. Tell. me. Where. They. Are!” Maker, you realized, he’s going to do it, he’s actually going to kill you. And just as yours eyes fluttered closed and you began to black out, you hit the floor with a resounding thunk. Only to be pulled onto your feet again and into something familiarly solid. 

“Miss me?” Crosshairs voice was heaven layered honey over the sounds of wheezing and laboured breaths. 

“Crosshair?” You gasped up at him, his arms around your frame moving to pick you up. 

“How touching, you almost look pleased to see me.” You blinked repeatedly at his smirk, before wincing as he began to move. 

“Where?” He asked, setting you down again. You tried to speak again but your lungs were still working double time. “What did they do to you?” He whispered, “I should've been faster.” 

“Crosshair,” you tried again, essentially mewling into his chest, “I can’t…. Can’t” you were panicked, scared, trying to chase a breath you just couldn't catch. 

“I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill them all.” He snarled, standing up again with you safely in his arms. Maybe Clone Force 99 cared for you more than you thought. 

Bed rest sucks, you decide about one day into Techs mandated recovery schedule. What sucks more is him and Hunter marching you back to you bunk every time you try to get up. So, naturally, you resort to sneaking around during the night when the self-proclaimed medics of the Bad Batch are asleep. 

You clutch a cup of some kind of herbal drink, Wrecker and Tech keep them by the box load so you figured they must be at least decent. But right now you’re wondering if you missed something because the stupid wet herb-flower bag thing keeps flopping around in the cup every time you try to take a sip. And the thing is way too hot, so you resort to blowing the steam away as it rises. 

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Crosshairs voice comes from the doorway into the hull of the Marauder. 

“Miss me?” You ask, mimicking him from before, enjoying the irony. 

“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’. You scoff at your mug of hot herbal whatnot. “Wrecker was beside himself though.” 

“Was he?” You tease your sniper, and a part of you wonders when he went from being ‘the’ sniper to ‘your’ sniper. 

“Yeah, inconsolable in fact.” Crosshair moves from the doorway over to your spot  in the hull of the ship. 

“Really?” you arch an eyebrow, standing in an embarrassing attempt to meet his height. But he’s closer than you calculated and in your adjustment you fumble and find yourself against the wall. 

“Aw, little Spitfire’s all choked up, mind the pun.” Crosshair sneers at you, stepping firmly into your personal space. 

“I do in fact.” You retort, “mind the pun, i also mind you in my personal bubble.” You go to plant a hand on his chest to push him away, but he’s so solid. Maker, why is he so warm and firm under your hands. Why, oh why, does he have to feel so perfect to your palms. And in the three times you’ve now touched him, Crosshair’s starting to feel familiar. 

“You gonna push me or just cop a feel?” He raises an eyebrow, but you miss it under the blush on your cheeks and your gaze hits the floor. His hand comes to your chin, index finger underneath while the thumb caresses your cheek. 

“I didn't get to thank you… for coming back for me.” You’re not sure where this is coming from, but it happens anyways. 

“You’ve got a weird way of apologizing Spitfire,” He murmurs looking back to your hands in his chest, watching your eyes react as he moves his other hand to your hip. He smirks oh so proudly when you sigh and relax into his hands, and move yours to hold his face and lightly  scratch at the short hair on his neck. 

“Crosshair…” You exhale looking at him, and the energy between the two of you does the rest of the talking as he leans down to connect his lips to yours. 

Kissing Crosshair seems to contradict everything else about him. It’s slow and soft, he takes his time memorizing the feeling and shape of your lips of his. And with all the time he’s spent pushing you away, now he’s pulling you impossibly close. Your kiss is akin to the second half of your nickname. Crosshair is on fire, but he can't bring himself to care. For you, he tastes of a forest after rainfall, crisp with mist and peaceful. You don't want it to ever end, but the burning in your abused lungs forces you to pull away. Immediately he pulls your foreheads together, a Keldabe kiss, because it’s the best he can get as you both heave for air. 

“I did miss you. And I was worried.” He tells you, lips brushing against your own  as he speaks. 

“I know,” You say, pressing a second kiss to his lips where you can both feel the other smile. 

[myjjbaby]

okay so the idea is reader taking one (or many) of jj's shirts without asking him, and every time he sees her with one of his shirts on he's like 🥺🥺 and finally she says she likes his smell and wears them because of that and idk some fluff (sorry if this is bad it was just an idea i had)

white t-shirt

author’s note - this kinda deviated from the original request but it just happened because your girl is angsty. happy first time writing in a month to me!! (apologies in advance im rusty). thank you to lisa @angellissy for being my hype woman as much as im yours because this wouldn't happen without you so. couple folks who i love who asked to be tagged so: @baby-bearie @dpaccione (taglist? yes or no? someone want to teach me how?) please also know that even as my dash returns to normal and im writing this doesnt mean ive stopped or anyone else should stop advocating for black lives matter so please do all you can loves :))

synopsis - requested by @strkydrw! JJ isnt used to public affection and it creates a wedge between the two of you. which JJ isnt about to let happen.

warnings - mentions of anxiety, smidge of angst, and a swear cause i felt like it. 1.7k of comfort!boyfriend!JJ

JJ Maybank was not one for public displays of affection. He was so used to going it alone that he couldn’t fathom someone wanting to love him for the whole world to see. You were okay with it, really you were, it was just something that made the blonde who he was.

Through your time together he became more lenient. A short peck in front of the Pogues or rough fingertips brushing the skin of your waist when your shirt rose up at a kegger. He loved you and that’s all you could ask for.

But to say you weren’t needy for his affection would be a complete lie. Curling into his side at the Kook’s walk-in movie, being able to love on your perfect boy for the whole world to see, but little hand touches were enough for you if it meant JJ was yours.

You had a bad day. A crap day. Everything that could’ve gone wrong, did and now you want your boyfriend. You needed JJ’s arms to wrap you up and push all your worries away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

You were at a party at the Boneyard, like most summer nights on Outer Banks, and your personal security blanket was far too busy by the keg to take notice of you. Pope was sitting next to you on a piece of driftwood. The sweet boy had a knack for reading you and the Pogues like an open book. He could spot your glowering from just about anywhere.

“Pope, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’ll leave you alone when I believe you.”

“Pope,” he glared at you, “okay, okay.”

The two of you settled into a calm silence. Pope sipped at his plastic water bottle, which Kie had already ratted him for, and you fiddled with your fingers, relaxing at JJ’s smile in the distance. A frown slipped over your features just as quickly as your sweet smile had appeared.

“Y/N?”

Turning your head to the dark skinned boy, you appreciated his concerned smile but honestly you’d rather bask in your misery alone if you couldn’t have your blue-eyed boy.

“I’m gonna walk home,” Pope’s eyes followed your movement as you stood, “tell JJ for me?”

Now he knew something was off, though you and your boyfriend were never outwardly affectionate, Pope knew of the silent love you shared. The fact you didn’t want to tell JJ you were leaving nor grasped the opportunity to squeeze the blonde’s hand was unsettling.

He watched you slip away, staying out of the firelight so JJ had no chance of catching your departure. He waited until you disappeared over the dune and started your short walk back home before practically bounding across the beach and gripping JJ’s bicep.

“Woah Pope, quite the grip there.”

“Y/N went home.”

“What?”

“Y/N left.”

The blonde quickly scanned the sandy beach, eyebrows furrowing when he didn’t find your familiar figure. He glanced back at Pope.

“Do you know why?”

“She seemed upset.”

“What? Why didn’t sh-”

“I don’t know, but that’s not the point,” he flicked the side of JJ’s head, “the point is that your girlfriend needs you so bust a move.”

Pope barely got the last words out before the blue-eyed boy practically sprinted through the crowd.

You were a mess by the time you reached your familiar grey house with tears streaming down your cheekbones as the screen door slammed behind you. You pushed your way through the house, feeling your legs ready to give out under your weight.

You slipped out of your clothes and goosebumps rose across your skin, the summer breeze chilled against your tanned skin. Pushing your jackets and sundresses aside in your closet, you reached for the worn white t-shirt tucked behind the rest of your clothes. The stained Pelican Marina shirt was one of your prized possessions. JJ had asked you about the article of clothing before saying how he lost it and wondered if you had seen it.

You denied everything.

The t-shirt always calmed you, the smells of the salt air and JJ’s weed, it made you feel like you were curled up in his hold. With just his shirt on, you slid under your blankets and pulled the knitted fabric to your chin. You tried to ignore the wetness of your skin and the pinch in your chest that even JJ’s aroma couldn’t solve.

You were so distracted by your waves of emotions you nearly missed the soft revving of the motorbike in your driveway. Your heart clamped when you heard the soft murmurs between your boyfriend and your dad as they undoubtedly worried about your off demeanor.

“Y/N?”

Your breathing felt erratic as you quickly closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t have to admit anything to JJ. You waited for him to leave after a soft sigh slipped through the crack beneath your door, but instead you heard the familiar creak of wood against rusted hinges.

You silently thanked your past self for laying down with your back to the wall because you knew you’d crack under JJ’s crystal gaze. Willing your lungs to settle, you felt his familiar warm touch settle over the fabric of his shirt you were wearing. The soft movement of his fingers kneading into your back nearly caused a whimper after longing for the boy’s touch for so long.

“Baby? I know you're awake.”

Mentally cursing your boyfriend, you rolled over to your side as JJ pressed his body closer to yours, practically laying on the bed now.

“Hi.”

“Hi sweet girl.”

He sweetly pressed his lips to the tip of your nose, smiling against the skin when he felt your cheek against his hand warm up. The blonde tried to pull back to admire your flushed features but you hid your face in his neck. You smiled when your actions emitted a chuckle from the boy which filled up the silence in your room.

This was what you wanted more than anything. Your perfect, loving JJ holding you close and kissing you tenderly, but not like this. You wanted to feel adored outside of the safety of closed doors and four walls, but that wouldn’t happen. You pouted at your ruined daydream.

“Hey, hey,” JJ felt your frown against his tanned skin, “baby, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N…”

“Really, it’s nothing, J, can we just forget it?”

“No.”

“J-”

“Tell me.”

You stayed silent, breathing in his presence, the pinch in your chest finally releasing.

“Baby, please?”

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“What?”

He pulled away from your touch as he frantically searched for some kind of explanation in your eyes.

“Sweet girl? Why would you ever think that?”

“You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to force yourself to kiss me in front of your friends and you won’t talk to me, much less touch me in public. It’s like I’m dating different people, JJ. The boy I fell in love with and some guy who’d never give me the time of day.”

“Bab-”

“No,” you sat up, letting his once comforting arm slip off your body, “I had the worst day and everything was too much and I just needed you. I need you, JJ. But I didn’t even want to tell you because I was scared you were going to brush me off. I don’t want to have to think twice before going to you, I shouldn’t have to but I jus-”

You were cut off by a harsh sob that was building up in your throat throughout the day. The weight of everything pulling you down for too long. Your cries, however, were quickly muddled as JJ pulled you into his warm, taut chest. His pillowy lips pushed against your skin, shushing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Baby, I’m not embarrassed by you. For fuck’s sake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it, I guess. You love so proudly and the fact that I have you is overwhelming. I’ve never done this before, loving someone. I wish you had told me, sweet girl, I love you so much, angel. So much and if you need me to hold you or kiss you or whatever, just tell me, okay?”

You nodded against the soft fabric of his navy shirt, your sobs giving out to breathy whimpers. It was peaceful like that, the room completely dark except for the moon and stars shining through your curtains and your boy holding you tight as you laid on his chest. You leaned back to stare at his serene facial features and watched as he fiddled with the hem of your clothing.

“Baby?”

You hummed, settling back into the crook of his neck.

“Is this my shirt?”

“Umm, maybe?”

He felt your skin heat up against his and smirked, trying to catch your eye in the dim light.

“Why’d you take it?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted you with me when I couldn’t have you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweet girl, I like you in my clothes. And you can always have me, okay?”

You hummed again, drowsiness forcing your lids closed. JJ shivered as your eyelashes fluttered over the smooth skin of his neck.

“What do you think of wearing this to tomorrow’s boat day with everyone?”

He mumbled into the night, smiling at the idea of you laying out with his shirt announcing you were his, but his suggestion went unanswered because your were already fast asleep in the comfort of the blue-eyed boy’s arms.

[jjaybank]

Makeover || JJ Maybank Request

[gif credit to @rudypankows]

Request: Anon- ‘Can i perhaps get a JJ Maybank x reader, she’s been part of the pogues since forever and shes kinda boyish, like the way she dresses and acts so other boys have never hit on her or looked twice and its bothered her since cause she wants to be girly but doesnt know where to start. So Kie & Sarah gives her a make over for a Kegger and it leaves the pogues & even the kooks speechless because wow she’s beautiful and JJ doesn’t know how to be himself around her anymore? 😭❤️❤️’ Okay so I’ve changed this a tiny bit I hope that’s okay?? Just because, I don’t think JJ needs someone to dress a certain way in order to fancy them. I hope thats okay!!! xx Warnings: Under-age drinking, tiny bit of jealous JJ Word Count: 1.5K A/N:  It was so nice to write non-angsty JJ for a bit - it’s good for the soul.

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JJ had always known that you were beautiful.  You always had your hair pulled up in a bun and out of your eyes, and your clothes were more practical than fashionable.  But despite the number of times he’d seen you drenched in sweat from the sun, or emerging, winded from the sea, after being wiped out by a wave, he just knew that there was something about you.  It annoyed him slightly, that other boys barely seemed to show you any attention, and then when they did you were completely oblivious. He’d often catch himself gazing for too long at your sun kissed skin, sparkling with seawater. Or watching the way you scrunched up your nose when you were concentrating. So when he sees you, face made-up and in a bardot sundress, he chokes on his beer.

You were sat in John B’s spare room, face to face with two very insistent girls.  You had protested Kiara and Sarah’s suggestion of a makeover at first.  It didn’t feel very you, but they were stubborn, you’d give them that.  You finally cracked when Sarah stuck out her bottom lip and started packing all her outfits back into her bag at a snail’s pace, shooting you over-the-top sad glances the entire time.

‘Okay, okay – fine.’ You sigh, kind of playing up to how much of an inconvenience they were being.  There was definitely a part of you that was excited by the prospects of embracing your feminine side.   Sarah looked like she’d won the lottery, and tipped her bag up on its end, spilling a variety of thin, slippery, short items of clothing onto the floor.  

The brushes and powders made you sneeze, and Kie accidentally poked the mascara wand into your eye.  You try on every combination of the outfits at least four times, growing more and more reluctant. Until Kie finally helped you settle on a simple yet elegant dress.  You couldn’t remember the last time you wore a dress.  Perhaps your Christening?  Sarah struggled for a while to tame your sea salty hair, and then finally they turn you to look in the mirror.  You audibly gasp.  Every element of yourself is still there; the slightly wild hair, the bruised knees, and wide toothy grin – but it’s all slightly more refined and you look, dare you say it, pretty.   You sat with a drink in hand, waiting for the other two to finish getting ready.  It wasn’t too much longer before all three of you made your way outside to where the boys had been waiting on the hammocks. John B stared a bit as you crossed the yard to them and you suddenly felt absolutely ridiculous.  Sarah and Kie noticed you slowing down, and each grab you by and arm and practically frogmarch you over to your friends. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ Sarah reassured you, ‘you look amazing!’ You give her a weak smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.   ‘Y-you look – you guys look great!’ Pope stuttered as you reach them.   John B tipped his beer towards you all and asked if you could leave for the party now. JJ turned around in his hammock and was about to complain about how long you had all taken, and that was when he choked. The others all pealed with laughter as beer dripped down his front, and he laughed too but not before giving them a reproachful glare.   You felt a bit self-conscious.  What if he thought you looked ludicrous?  Wasn’t the dress a bit short?  You shifted a bit, trying to pull it down as much as possible.  Kie noticed and slapped your wrist sternly.   ‘Stop it, you look awesome.’ She hissed. But JJ couldn’t stop looking at you, and while he always knew you were beautiful, it stunned him to see you embrace it for yourself. ~ You didn’t see the looks you got that night. You were having far too much fun with your friends to take note of the boys who checked you out as you danced past them.  But as you twirled with Kie in the moonlight, beer in hand, JJ did notice.  And additionally, he noticed how annoyed it was making him to see Kooks and Pogues alike obviously ogling at you.  It was as if he hadn’t admired the way the light shone on your bare shoulders, or how your loose hair rippled as you moved.  He was sat on an empty keg, observing the scene before him, occasionally frowning at people who asked him for a drink from the barrel in front of him. He grew increasingly frustrated when an arrogant looking Kook walked up to you and attempted to catch your attention.   He watched, seething, while the guy with his slicked back hair tried to convince you to leave your friend and dance with him instead. You looked confused and shook your head firmly.  It pleased him to see you turn him down.  He didn’t stop watching you, as you and Kie walked over to where he sat.   ‘More beer, Y/N? Wow you really are on a roll tonight’ he flashed you a tight-lipped smile, reaching out to collect your cup.  You obliged, and hugged yourself against the slight chill of the night. ‘Did you see that guy hitting on Y/N’ Kie chirped ‘Yup.’ Said JJ curtly, feigning concentration on the keg.  He couldn’t look you in the eye for fear that he wouldn’t be able to tear his gaze away. You eyed him suspiciously but tried not to think too much of it.  He’d been looking at you strangely all night, and you wished you knew what you’d done to irk him so.

~

The night was almost over before you saw JJ again.  You were speaking to some Pogue guy you had seen around a lot before.  You were sure he had introduced himself, but his name had slipped you mind almost the moment it had left his lips.  He kept touching your arm and trying to move in closer.  He seemed sweet, but he really wasn’t your type.

Speaking of types, you were somewhat relieved to see JJ bobbing towards you through the throng of youths.  

‘Elliot!’ He cried, clapping the boy on the back, oh yeah – that was it. Elliot. ‘There’s a friend of yours looking for you down by the water.  Didn’t catch the name.  Vague looking guy.’ JJ had a huge fake smile slapped on his face as he ushered the boy away from you.  

‘But-. ‘Elliot looked at you, puzzled.

‘Bye, Elliot’ you waved.  JJ saluted at him, as Elliot threw up his arms in defeat.

‘Thank you.’ You laughed, ‘I really don’t know what that was all about.’  You gestured towards the retreating figure of the boy who had been bothering you.

‘I think I might.’ says JJ, gently moving you through the crowd of people and away from the centre of the party.  His fingers were wrapped lightly around your wrist as he guided you.  You were being bumped by elbows and sloshed with beers, and JJ tried to shield you with his arm.

‘What?’ you asked innocently, looking up at him as he finally gets you both out of the writhing mass of teenagers.

He looked down at you in disbelief.

‘You really can’t see it can you?’ he asked.

You were suddenly aware of how close he was. And unlike with the other boy, you felt at home at this proximity with JJ.  He hand was still on your wrist and you felt a strange buzzing sensation from where his fingers made contact with your skin.   He laughed incredulously at how oblivious you were to all of the attention you had been getting.

‘All the people here tonight,’ he gestured to the crowd as he spoke, ‘they’re all just realising how beautiful you are.’

You blushed fiercely, staring sceptically at the mixture of drunken souls moving with the music on the beach.

‘I mean it, Y/N.’ he said, and then he seemed to suddenly realise what he had said, and his face glowed with a rosy hue.

You smiled widely despite yourself.

‘You said I’m beautiful’ you teased, poking at his side.  He rolled his eyes and laughed,

‘Yeah don’t get too used to it.’  He winked at you, pulling you slightly closer.

‘Were you jealous of them?’ You asked suddenly.

‘Of who?’

‘All the other guys.’

He swallowed thickly.  

You looked up at him, swaying slightly from the alcohol you had been drinking like water all night.  

And maybe it was the haze from the beer, or the heated atmosphere of the kegger, but before you knew it you were closing the distance between the two of you.

You stood on your tiptoes to press you lips against his.  And at first it was soft.  His lips tasted of smoke and alcohol.  You weren’t sure if he had momentarily frozen in shock, but suddenly his hand twisted in your hair and his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You clung onto his shirt.  The kiss was all-consuming.  You could barely hear the sound of the party anymore – it was just you and JJ, surrounded by the thrill of each other.  He tugged slightly on your hair, eliciting an involuntary moan from you.  You felt him smile against you, and you were intoxicated in the delight that was kissing JJ.

He pulled away for a moment, but only to murmur,

‘For the record, I’ve always known that you’re beautiful.’

You grinned.

‘Knew it,’ you said triumphantly, looping your arms around his neck, ‘you were jealous.’ -------------------------- Ah I’m so tired so i hope you liked it!  Please let me know ☺️

My requests are open xx

[mrs-han]

Here With Me

Heeey could i request an scenario where the mc is stood up by Jumin , like she waits for him at the restaurant but he doesnt arrive bc he forgot since he has been stressed out with work all week and suddenly Jaehee lets him know and its all angsty but with a happy ending pleasee♡♡♡♡

~~~

Sure thing! Thank you for your submission!

~~~

"Madam, would you like to come inside?"

"No, no. My husband should be coming shortly, and I'd like to be here when he shows," you smiled, securing your scarf over your shoulders.

As the valet entered the building that chilly august evening, the thought of Jumin kept you warm, even gave you the strength to stay outside and wait for a little while longer. It had been over a month, and you two had finally scheduled a date night—no work, no distractions - just he before your eyes and you before his.

You fiddled with your lace gloves and primped your hair, glancing at the glass window as it acted as your mirror. You were fully decked out in the most delicate lavender twill dress, six-inch stiletto pumps, and fastened in your hair was a pin Jumin had picked out himself for you to don. You always wanted to look your best for this man, and frankly, you were excited to see how he would react.

Cars passed by the grand venue - you straightened and eventually slouched as you noticed a few of them stop, but none of the occupants were Jumin. Snow began to drizzle over you, and, with a faint shiver, you checked your watch.

0950.

You blinked and tapped the watch - that wasn't right. You had only been waiting for half an hour, not an hour and a half... right? You dug your phone from your purse and tapped his icon.

"This is Jumin Han, Director of C&R. Thank you for your call, but I am away -"

You ended the call quickly and called him again. And again. You were greeted with the same voice message, and your heart sunk in your stomach.

He didn't forget... did he?

~~~

"Mr. Han, it's getting late," Jaehee smiled forcefully, gripping her pen in one hand and her travel mug in the other. "This is a good stopping point, don't you agree?"

"Not quite," Jumin sighed, pushing his hair back and tapping his diamond pen against his desk. "We're missing something... something important."

"A meeting with the Prime Minister of Sweden is no small feat," Jaehee huffed, pressing her back against the chair. "But I assure you, we've covered everything we need to cover. You know everything about him, perhaps too much."

Jumin examined his notes and furrowed his brows. "No... no, something is missing."

Jaehee raised a brow and crossed her arms. "I assure you, Mr. Han. This missing artifact has nothing to do with the prime minister."

"I don't see what your hurry is. Tomorrow is Saturday, you have plenty of time to rest then."

"Until you call me in to do something," Jaehee muttered under her breath. "Listen, Mr. Han, with all due respect. It is going on twenty-two hundred hours and fifteen minutes, and I would like to go home."

Jumin looked dubiously shocked. It had gotten that late so quickly... his eyes widened. "Today is Friday."

"Yes, today is Friday," Jaehee nodded.

"No, no, no." Jumin slammed his folders closed and adjusted his tie, a frantic air about him.

"What is it?" Jaehee asked, observing his facial expression turn to one of confusion to one of realization.

Jumin dashed past his chief assistant, muttering slurs under his breath and heading towards the penthouse's front door. "I don't have time to explain."

"Mr. Han, if you're heading outdoors, you'll need your coat -"

Jumin flung the door open... and there you stood, shivering and dripping wet from the melted snow. You lifted your eyes and met his apologetic gaze.

"My... my love... I -"

You shoved your way past him, wrapping your scarf around your reddened face. There was no way you were about to let him see you cry.

Jumin stumbled back and tried to reach for you, but you were too fast. You ran down the hall and into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

"MC!" Jumin called while chasing you, slamming against the door as it closed. He pressed his palms against the wood, then his forehead. "MC, please."

Jaehee quietly gathered her coat and murmured, "I will see you on Monday, Mr. Han."

Jumin, too distracted by you, didn't care to hear her. "MC? MC, may I come in? Darling?"

He placed his hand over the doorknob and gripped it, ready to turn the handle - when he heard your sobs. Every sniffle, every sad moan, he listened to, desperate to soothe you.

"My love... my love -"

"Go away! Get away from me!" You hollered, throwing several objects at the door. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you!"

Jumin closed his eyes, your words piercing all parts of his heart. He waited for more words to come from you; he wanted to hear from you, even if your words had the potential to kill him from the inside out.

But you didn't say anything. Instead, you wailed and sobbed... and those sounds alone did more damage to him than any insult.

Jumin pressed himself against the door and sank slowly, his hand still on the doorknob. He would respect your wish and leave you alone, but he refused to be too far away. When you were ready to talk, he would be there.

His determination did not falter after an hour had passed, and another. He sat patiently outside of the guest bedroom and began to nod off when he realized - there was no sound coming from the other side of the door. It was utterly silent.

"MC? I'm opening the door," Jumin cooed, pressing the door open slowly.

He peeked in and saw you, not sound asleep as he had imagined. No, your back was facing him. Your gown, gloves, shoes, and jewels had been thrown onto the floor, a thick blanket the only thing covering you. You sat erect, like a graceful statue, gazing at the city below.

Jumin waited for you to throw him out with your words again, but no such thing happened. You were completely silent. He wasn't much of a risk-taker, and he didn't pride himself on being one. But for you, he was willing to do anything.

Jumin stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, his eyes squarely on your figure.

You didn't make a sound.

He walked towards you, slightly shier than his naturally confident stride.

You didn't make a sound.

He sat down beside you and, without hesitation, wrapped an arm around your body.

Your statuesque figure faltered, and you crumbled at his touch.

"My love -"

"How could you," you trembled, covering your face with your hands. "We had planned this date for a long, long time now! How could you forget!"

Jumin didn't say a word. He hung his head shamefully and pulled you closer to him, grateful you didn't draw away.

"I looked like such a fool, waiting for you out in the snow!" You sniffed. "I, I watched cars come and go, and I thought, that's him! In that car there! But it was never you, Jumin, you never showed up!"

Jumin looked at you, sorrow and regret the only legible expression on his face.

"I'm so embarrassed, and so... I'm so disappointed, Jumin... and I've never felt so much... anger towards you before..."

You wiped at your tears many times over, but they continued to bombard you, and your vision blurred. "I'm so angry," you sobbed. "So, so angry..."

Your emotions pounded within you, overtaking you; you curled into yourself and trembled vigorously.

A soft thump. That's what you heard. He's gone, you thought, moving your hands away from your eyes.

But no. Jumin was still there with you, now on his knees.

"What... what are you -"

Jumin grabbed your bare foot delicately and kissed your arch once, twice, three times over. "Forgive me," he whispered fiercely, pressing his forehead against your cold skin. "Forgive me, MC. I was a careless man, a thoughtless man, and my foolishness meant leaving you out in the cold, waiting for me..."

Your lower lip trembled, and, as much as you tried to stop it, more tears came flooding down your cheeks.

"I hurt you," Jumin whispered, kissing your ankle, your calf, your knee. "I hurt you terribly, my angel... and I beg you to forgive me."

"Jumin..."

"I'm so sorry." His hot breath created goosebumps through your bare legs and up to your bare arms. "I'm so sorry."

You fell to the floor and tried to wrap your arms around him, but he was much faster than you. Jumin pressed you to his body, engulfing you entirely. You sobbed against his chest as feelings of anger turned into feelings of complete and utter devotion towards this man, your husband - your Jumin.

In his arms, you stayed until exhaustion overcame you. Jumin glanced down at you, lifting your chin to meet his eyes - you were fast asleep. Many thoughts ran through his mind - you needed a warm bath and a warm bed, who knows how long you had been standing in the cold. He needed to snap to it and make you as comfortable as possible.

But as he moved to pick you up, you pressed your head to his chest and let out a small groan. You were no longer crying, no longer in a state of despondency... no, you seemed to be in a place of peace. Perhaps he could treat you to a nice, warm bath, luxurious bedding, delicious food, and an enjoyable movie - whatever you wanted. For now, he wanted to watch you sleep. Indeed, he wanted to etch the peaceful expression in your face into both his brain and heart.

Besides - he was in an extremely uncomfortable position, his legs falling asleep and his back steadily aching. Yes, this well deserved, self-inflicted punishment would work magnificently.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

I've had a really hard day today and I saw someone wanted more Jimary crack, so I decided to write it to cheer myself up. I hope three fics in a row isn't too excessive. (All credit goes to the anon who suggested this.)

--

‘She’s drunk.’ Joe said very matter-of-factly, lifting his wine glass to his lips, only to discover there was nothing left in it.

‘Very drunk.’ Replied Phoebe, reaching for the bottle nearby and giving them both a refill.

It wasn’t as though they had never seen Mary drunk before. She was usually all giggly and bouncy after a few drinks, perhaps more talkative than usual and, in Joe’s opinion, far less uptight. But they had never seen her like this; her eyes heavy lidded, downing her wine like it was water and clumsily swaying to the music that filled the busy lounge, stumbling every now and again to keep her balance. She was clearly taking her break up with Piers very badly.

‘Freddie’s livid.’ Joe murmured, glancing over at the singer who appeared to be deep in conversation with Peter Straker, but kept glancing over at the intoxicated woman who was trying to coax Brian into dancing with her, much to the displeasure of Anita. ‘Prepare yourself for a screaming match later on.’

‘I already have the popcorn ready.’

Mary eventually gave up on Brian and loudly announced she was heading into the kitchen for another bottle of rosé, almost stepping on Delilah as she staggered through the door. She surveyed the kitchen a moment, the room spinning as her alcohol consumption finally caught up with her, before she noticed Jim sitting alone at the kitchen table, trying unsuccessfully to uncork a large bottle of champagne between his knees.

She had always been a little jealous of Jim. Before he came along, she had always held out hope that Freddie might return to her one day, discover he wasn’t actually into men or something daft like that. But then this Irishman appeared, who wasn’t like Freddie’s other boyfriends; for the first time, it seemed like Freddie was in love and ready to settle down, happy in a way she had never seen him before. It had been hard for her to accept; but when Piers had finally had enough of her obsession and left her, she realised that she would never be able to properly move on with her life if she kept latching on to the past. She had to let Freddie go. She had to accept that, while they would always be friends, Freddie was gay and what they had all those years ago was over.

Jim noticed her hovering and looked up, giving her a small smile. ‘Enjoying the party?’

Mary hummed in response, going to the cupboard where the booze was kept and digging around until she found the rosé she was looking for. When she looked back at Jim, he still hadn’t managed to remove the cork and was quietly cursing under his breath in his thick Irish accent.

It was quite a nice voice, her inebriated mind told her.

‘You have a lovely voice.’ She suddenly said aloud, her words slurred. She wobbled up to him, heels clinking against the kitchen tiles as she unscrewed the top of the rosé bottle. ‘Where is it you’re from again?’

Jim blinked at her dumbly. He wasn’t used to Mary initiating conversation like this; she was usually so reserved. ‘Um, a town called Carlow. It’s near Dublin.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Mary drawled and without any warning, she suddenly plopped herself down in Jim's lap, making him jump in surprise. ‘Ireland is sss-such a lovely place. Lots of sheep there.’

Jim’s face went red, and he carefully set the champagne bottle down on the table. ‘Yeah, I suppose there are.’

Much to his horror, Mary put the bottle of rosé to her lips and began downing the drink ruthlessly, not stopping until it was almost half empty. When she finally stopped, she carelessly abandoned the bottle next to the champagne and turned around to stare Jim directly in the eyes, her smile disturbingly wide.

‘You have beautiful eyes.’ She garbled, moving her finger as if she was going to poke them out, but she instead ended up giving him a weird boop on the nose. ‘And your arms are so big.’ She reached down to squeeze his bicep, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘I bet you’re really strong. Remember when you lifted me up at Freddie’s birthday party?’

Jim remembered. He was so plastered that night he had almost dropped her on her head.

‘Are you feeling alright, Mary?’ he asked warily, not comfortable with how close their faces were.

‘I’m wonderful, Jim.’ Mary giggled again, though it sounded a little manic. ‘I really, really want to dance. Will you dance with me, Jim?’

‘I’m not much of a dancer, Mary.’ Jim coughed, glancing over his shoulder in hope that someone might come through the kitchen door and save him.

‘That’s not true! I’ve seen you dance!’ Mary insisted, pulling at his hands, ‘come on.’

Jim didn’t have the energy to argue with her, already a little tipsy himself, and he allowed her to drag him into the middle of the kitchen, face filling with colour as Mary threw her arms around his neck and sagged all of her body weight against him. He realised rather quickly that if he let her go, she’d probably fall face first onto the floor and never get up again.

The next five minutes had to be the most uncomfortable of his entire life, as he swayed in awkward circles with his husband’s ex-girlfriend, mindfully trying to keep his hands off her waist. He wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he prayed to every God in existence that someone would call him from the lounge and rescue him from this predicament.

Mary suddenly lifted her head from his shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘Marry me, Jim.’

The Irishman stared down at her, eyes comically wide. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Marry me.’ Mary grinned at him, leaning so close that for one horrible moment he thought she might try to kiss him. ‘We can have lots of beautiful Irish babies together.’

Jim sighed. Next time they had a party, he was going to replace Mary’s wine with Ribena. ‘I’m very flattered by your offer, but there are two problems; I’m gay and I’m married to Freddie.’

‘Oh bugger.’ Said Mary, as if she had forgotten that detail. ‘You can still marry me though. We can run away to Cardiff together.’

‘Carlow, Mary.’

Her face suddenly fell and she stepped away from him, looking betrayed. 'Is it because of the cats?'

'The what?'

‘That's why you don't want to marry me, isn't it?’ Mary's lip trembled as if she was about to cry. ‘Freddie has cats and I don't!'

‘Mary, I’m going to get you some water.’ Jim replied, making a beeline for the sink.

‘No, don’t leave!’ Mary grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him back. ‘Stay with me, Jim. I'll buy you all the cats you want!’

‘You’ll feel much better after drinking this.’ Jim said firmly, pouring a glass of water and turning around to hand it to her. As soon as he did, her lips were suddenly pressed against his own, arms locked around his neck so there was no escape as he yelled against her mouth in surprise.

‘Mary!’ he roared, as soon as she released him, half the water having spilled onto the floor during the struggle. ‘What the bloody hell are you playing at?!’

Mary grinned; lipstick smudged across her face, so she looked like the Joker. ‘I’ve never kissed an Irishman before. Does that make me Irish now?’

Before Jim could even answer, she suddenly dry heaved; he grabbed her and stuck her head into the sink as she vomited up the contents of her stomach.

--

‘What the fuck happened?’ Freddie demanded, as Jim walked into the lounge, his shirt ruffled, a smear of red lipstick on his mouth and a very drunk Mary giggling uncontrollably in his arms.

‘Your ex-girlfriend asked me to marry her, then threw up.’ Jim replied, as if this was a normal occurrence. ‘I’m going to put her in one of the guest rooms so she can sleep it off.’

He turned and walked out of the lounge before anyone could respond. Freddie clenched his glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t shatter in his hand.

‘I’m going to murder her!’ he growled, lunging towards the door, only for Phoebe to grab him from behind and hoist him up. ‘Let me go! That backstabbing homewrecker is trying to abscond with my husband!’

‘Take it easy, Fred.’ Phoebe said calmly, holding onto the man effortlessly. ‘You can kill her tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, we haven’t even had dessert yet.’ Said Joe, holding onto Freddie's legs to stop him from kicking. ‘I spent all fucking day slaving over that baked Alaska, you’re eating it whether you like it or not!’

Firstly, I am so sorry you are having a hard day. I feel terrible that whilst you are doing so much to entertain us with this outrageous crackship, you are not having a good time. I can just hope that writing these stories bring you as much joy as they bring us.

And now, the fic. I AM WHEEZING. First of all, I fucking love Joe. Even though we've never heard him speak, or ever listened to his words through his own perspective, I feel that your characterisation is so realistic. His dessert comment slayed me lmao.

And oof, Mary being drunk off her ass is my new favourite trope. And lmao her thinking that Jim doesnt want to marry her because she doesn't have cats😂😂😂 Leave him alone, Mary. He doesn't want to have irish babies with you.

And hahahahaha Freddie's reaction is as epic as I had envisioned. And god, this is another nightmare that Jim isn't going to recover from soon.

This is such a fantastic crackship, omg. I absolutely loved this💙💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

Also anon, if you ever want to talk, you can always dm me, if you are comfortable of course🧡

[daemoninwhiteround2]

Damian is a jealous little shit when it comes to Jason and his milk. He doesnt like to share him in ANY way when he is nursing. That means that besides from hogging the milk from the rest of the pack, he also wants his undivided attention and affection. He has bitten Jason before to draw his attention back to him whenver any other member of the pack "distracts" him while nursing. At this point Jason has given up. Theres no fixing that kid

Could you please do more mama Jason breast feeding Damian? Maybe before and after they left the League?

Dami is a possesive and jealous little shit over Jasons milk. He doesnt give a shit that he is no longer a little pup and the milk changed its composition, no longer meant for his nutrition but to strengthen pack bonds. He gives no fucks. It was his first and he will be damned if he has to share it. Also thats his Umm'i. The omega that raised him. He doesnt give a shit that he is pack Omega (and the ONLY omega on the pack) Jason was his first. Dami literally has growled at Bruce over his milk

Things...

drift.

Everything happens but none of it catches his attention.

Life flows past him and he is like a stone, unmoved, removed, only ever an observer.

And then

Her.

The one static image in a sea of colour and sound.

Bright green eyes and dark hair.

There’s...

something.

He should ... something.

It flows out of reach and he remains.

And then

Him.

Small, soft.

Warm and heavy in his arms.

Smells like everything good and right in the world.

She does something, shifts him close, and

Wet

Pull

Hurts?

No. 

Is ... right.

Only thing that has been right for...

He cuddles him close and allows the world to drift past them both.

--

Jason only comes to movie night because he twisted one ankle, broke the other and was taken to the Manor against his will and now, since they’ve dumped him in the rumpus room on the second floor, he literally can’t leave. 

“You’re a shit,” he tells Dick, who is not even vaguely attempting to hide his delight as he sticks throw pillows in and around Jason.

It isn’t pulling at his nesting instincts. It isn’t.

“I know you are but what am I?” Dick sing-songs back as he slides another pillow beneath Jason’s ankle. He’s managed to wedge them between a five pillow structure taking up the entirety of the footstool Jason has his feet propped up on; his ankles are definitely raised and also he definitely can’t move his legs without toppling everything.

Even if Jason wanted to get up, he doubts he could struggle out of pillow hell before it all comes falling down and he suffocates to death for a second time.

“Christ, how old are you again?”

“Old enough to know better than to go running around on the street after Freeze has iced it over.”

Hmm. Dick’s got him there.

“Besides,” Dick continues, “it’s been forever since we’ve all hung out.”

Jason pointedly looks around the otherwise empty room. “Yeah, just you, me, and all your friends.”

“Ha ha, Jason, you’re hilarious.” Dick actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. “I mean, Bruce sent Damian back a couple of hours ago, since it’s a school night, and Tim didn’t go out at all, he’s got a big presentation at W.E. tomorrow! So we can all hang out together.” He plumps another pillow, stares at it like it holds the secrets to ... well, a happy family. “It’s been a while since so much of the pack’s been together.”

Jason wants to scoff, but Dick’s tone brings him up short. He’s not even sure Dick meant for him to hear it. He sounds ... wistful.

Dick’s really the only one of them who knows what a happy, well-adjusted pack should be. Jason's family was ... the less said the better, Tim’s were distant and then dead, and Damian...

Dick’s the only one of them who knows what pack could be like. Should be like. The rest of them just have ... hopes, dreams, more formed by TV than anything else. Jason gave, gives Dick a lot of shit for being so desperate to play happy families, but he also ... when Dick’s like this, bringing him down, making him face the reality of their heavily-fractured pack seems ... unnecessarily cruel.

“Whatever,” he finally settles on, performatively rolling his eyes as he reaches for the remote. “I get to pick what we watch though.”

Dick grins, bright and blinding, and Jason remembers why people call him the heart of the hero community.

Fuck, he’d be so good at fulfilling an omega’s traditional role for a pack.

 He basically does already because Jason can’t get his fucking shit together and--

Not. Now.

He flips through the channels, ignores Dick darting in and out, bringing more and more blankets and pillows as he does. By the time Jason’s given up and settled on some random movie, Dick’s herded Tim and Damian into the room. 

Dick settles down on a loveseat close to Jason, not close enough that he feels crowded but not far enough that it’s a snub. Jason ... doesn’t know how to deal with that display of thoughtfulness, so he shoves it under the rug in his mind and glances at his other packmates brothers fellow vigilantes. 

Tim, typically, flops face down into a pile of blankets and pillows and doesn’t move. It’s fairly even odds if he’s already asleep or if he’s going over expense reports in his head.

Damian, on the other hand, shifts his weight from foot to foot, glancing at Dick, at Jason, and at the open expanse of floor. Jason can’t stop himself from tensing up--Damian’s far too disciplined to display such an obvious tell, even after a couple of years of Dick chipping away at the mountain of bullshit Damian was taught by the League.

Dick, of course, notices. “Come sit with me, little D!” he calls and pats the cushion next to him.

Damian tuts and ... sits next to Jason?

Jason shoots him a glance, Damian scowls up at him, looks away and crosses his arms.

Jason chalks it up to Damian not wanting to deal with Dick (which, mood) and focuses on the TV.

--

A warm weight nestles against his side, and Jason blinks back to reality.

“What’s up?” he keeps his voice just loud enough to be heard, hopes to not disturb the others--Dick’s head definitely tilts in their direction, for all he doesn’t actually seem to look over.

“Hungry,” Damian grunts.

Jason pointedly tilts his head at pillow hell. “Can’t exactly help you with that, kid.”

Damian tuts. “Yes you can. You did before.”

Jason freezes. He’s never been really certain that Talia had him interacting with Damian before he took a tip in the worst-reviewed jacuzzi in the world--knows for sure they didn’t after, but when he’d been allowed in the excuse of a nest he’d managed to construct, he’d smelt something like...

That would explain ... a lot.

“I don’t know what you-”

Damian cuts him off. “You’re an omega, aren’t you?”

Dick’s definitely looking at him. The skin on the back of Jason’s neck crawls. “Yes, but-”

“You’re still an omega.”

And with that, Damian shoves Jason’s shirt up to his armpits and latches onto his closest nipple.

Jason nearly shrieks, nearly shoves Damian away, but then he sucks, and

and

he

remembers.

Warm and heavy.

Smelt like everything good in the world.

“Damian,” he murmurs. He feels like he’s just got a 2x4 to the face without the helmet in the way. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut by Bane. He feels like

He feels like...

He...

He lowers his hand until he cups the back of Damian’s neck. Damian crawls forward, doesn’t lift his mouth, and awkwardly curls up into Jason’s lap.

Ever since Jason actually realised he had tits, he’s always found them annoyingly large. He typically wears compression tops and sports bras, the only reason why he’s not is that he’d been planning to go to sleep and he hates wearing one to bed. 

“Guess that explains why,” he says inanely.

Damian’s not actually getting any milk--Jay doesn’t have a pup, for all he babysits Lian, and the pack would have to actively be nursing for him to make milk for them. And yet ... just the action is...

“Little wing,” Dick murmurs from too-close.

Jason turns to look at him, and Dick’s outstretched fingertips brush against his cheek. He freezes, arm still holding Damian close, and stares at his pack’s second.

Dick’s eyes are impossibly blue in the flickering light of the tv.

“Jason,” he says.

Jason ... leans forward, leans into it, but Damian sinks his sharp little baby teeth into his mouthful of tit and snarls all ‘fuck off this omega’s mine’.

Jason reflexively slaps the back of his head, a move he’s seen more than one omega pull on their misbehaving alpha pups.

Dick snorts and backs off, raising his hands like that’ll placate Damian, like they can’t all see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth (like they all can’t see tears pooling in his eyelashes). “Alright, alright, Damian, he’s all yours.”

Dick settles back in his loveseat and Damian settles down. Not even five minutes later and please-content-happy-happy-happy alpha scent floats over from Dick’s direction.

“Really?” Jason arches an eyebrow at Dick. He ignores the fact that he can’t seem to stop himself from combing his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“Really.”

Dick has no right to sound as happy as he does.

This has no right to ... Jason never expected this. Never deserved this. And yet...

And yet.

[darknessisafriend]

Can I request y/n and Joaquin at the oscars since he just won, please? :) 💕

I LOVE SO MUCH ANON

OMG his speech was to damn beautiful and moving, I’m so proud of him and he and Rooney were just so cute together *_* 

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction inspired by what we see of these people, I do not claim to know them nor to establish this work as the truth about their personal lives, the realities might be completely different.

River would be so proud

Today was the big day; the day where Joaquin was going to be officially recognized for his work. You knew your boyfriend was going to win, he was receiving so much support from the critics, fellow actors and the internet that you were sure of it; and to be honest, you were probably among his biggest fans and you thought he should have won an Oscar for Gladiator already and even more for Walk the line.  

As for your boyfriend, he didn´t really believe he would win and as the ceremony got closer, his anxiety rose, you knew how uncomfortable he felt and you wished you could take that away; he was pacing in the living room fixing his cufflinks.

“I don't see why I would win when the others did such amazing performances...look at Adam he was so fuckin´ heartbreaking!” he maintained, you stopped him, encircling your arms around his waist.

“Rain was right when she said you had such a strong inner critic.” you smiled as you stood on your toes to kiss his lips, he laughed at your comment and closed again the gap between your mouths, his kiss was tender, loving, you open your mouth to let his tongue in, gently caressing yours; as you ran out of air, you rested your forehead against his, smiling happily.  

“I suddenly feel like staying here tonight...” he flirted against your lips, you chuckled, opening your eyes to look at him tenderly.

“Let’s save that for the after party, it will be even better...” you suggested on the same tone before separating from him, the driver was already waiting outside.  

Joaquin sighed as the car approached the red carpet, it was going to be a long night. Joaquin came out first and walked to the other side of the car to open to you, your eyes met briefly, encouraging each other; as soon as you got out of the car the flashes of the photographs bombarded you, of course they wanted a picture of the Oscars favorite with his date, this was probably the phase you hated the most, for at least 30 minutes you both will have to pose and smile while getting blinded by all those flashes, and you were also uncomfortable with being taken in picture. You felt Joaquin´s hand around your waist, at least you were close to him, you also rested your hand on his back, gently rubbing circles to soothe him as you both posed for more photos.

“I can´t wait for this to be over...” he muttered as you walked towards the entrance of the theatre, you laughed.

“And I can´t wait to sit down, those heels are so damn uncomfortable.” you added smiling at the journalists, you were so used to wear sneakers that heels always became a torture after a few minutes.  

You finally arrived inside and went to your assigned seats which were close the stage, in case Joaquin would win; you sighed pleased to be seated and far from all those flashes. You looked at your boyfriend and entwinned your fingers with his, he gave you a trembling smile, you understood his nervousness.

“It will be alright” you told him, and it was the truth, in any case it will be alright; if he wins his speech will be thoughtful and altruistic as always and if he doesn´t win then nothing will change, not his talent, his career or your love for him. You felt him squeeze your hand in response.

“Thank you, for being here with me.” he cooed looking at you enamored.  

The ceremony finally started and you were having a good time, each presenter was entertaining the performances were truly beautiful and positive, it reminded you of those at the Bafta´s.  

Until it was finally, the moment to announce the winner of the Oscar for Best Actor performance. You felt nervousness built in your chest, you wanted him to win; Joaquin didn´t move, as if he was frozen on his seat in anticipation. Olivia Colman entered on stage, holding the envelop, you actually felt like your heart was going to exploded in your chest as she spoke and made jokes, the suspense was just unbearable.

“And the Oscar goes to...Joaquin Phoenix for Joker.” she finally announced, the pressure suddenly lifted from your chest, you felt like jumping and cheering in the whole room, you excitedly looked at your lover, he couldn’t believe he had actually won, and you knew that secretly he felt blessed by such honor; you gave his arm a squeeze to encourage him as he had to go on stage.

He quickly got up and headed to the micro on stage, he took the famous statuette in his hands, you pinched your lips together, your heart swollen with happiness, gosh you were so proud of him. The audience was clapping and cheering ready to give him a long standing ovation.

“No, stop.” he started, you knew he hated to be praised like that, and standing in front of so many people could only add more to his anxiety right now.

“God I’m full of so much gratitude right now...” he spoke his voice shaking, all the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he acknowledged his fellow nominees.

“But the greatest gift that it’s been giving me, and many of us in this room is the opportunity to use our voice for the voiceless” he paused, his voice slightly trembling with the emotion of the moment, you didn’t know what he planned to say in his speech, he had decided to think about it all by himself and keep it as honest as he could.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the distressing issues that we have been facing collectively and I think at times we feel or may to feel that we champion different causes but for me I see commonality, I think whatever we’re talking about gender inequality or racism or queer rights or indigenous rights or animal rights we’re talking about the fight against injustice...”  you nodded; he was right.

“We’re talking about the fight against the belief that one nation, one people, one race, one gender or one species has the right to dominate, control and use and exploit another with impunity” he continued with conviction, you couldn’t help but join the audience in their applause, he was so right, he always had such peaceful and loving approach, preferring to join forces rather than confront points of views that were in the end similar in their struggle, his speech was truly beautiful, covering so much of the current fights but also praising the beauty of humanity; this was the real Joaquin, always so honest and caring, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Then he paused, his eyes searched the room, there was something more he wanted to add, and somehow you felt his emotions and understood that he was going to talk about his brother River, you knew it was still something very hard to talk about for him.

“I just...I want to...” you felt tears coming to your eyes as he struggled to speak, you could see on the giant screen the tears in his eyes “when...when he was seventeen Riv...my brother wrote this lyric, he said run to the rescue with love and peace will follow; thank you.” he finished on the verge of tears, you blinked yours away, he had managed to say it even though it was very hard for him.

As soon as he disappeared backstage, you got up and headed there to, you couldn´t wait to congratulate him and above all you wanted to hold him in your arms, he had been so brave, so strong to stand for what he believes in but also to talk about his dear brother.

You finally saw him among all the people backstage, he looked lost in his thoughts, until he noticed someone coming in his direction and the second he recognized you, he closed the gap between the two of you, almost collapsing in your arms, he embraced you tightly, your hand went up to caress his curls, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest.

“I´m so proud of you Joaquin, I´m so happy, you deserve it, truly” you murmured in his ear between the kisses you placed on his jaw.  

“I miss him so much.” he gulped against your skin. You felt his tears wet your skin, he was crying, so you kept holding him in your arms, gently rubbing circles against his back until his cries calmed down, he lifted his head, meeting your eyes, he was so grateful to have you by his side.  

“River would be so proud of you, I´m sure he´s up there celebrating with a big smile on his face” you told your boyfriend, looking at him deep in the eyes, his eyes were wet but full of happiness, and a smile started to form on his lips.

“With all this shit I´m famished now” he joked trying to lighten the mood, drying his cheeks with his palm, you gave him a loving kiss, caressing his cheek.

“Well, that´s great because I´ve heard they made delicious vegan burgers” you winked before taking his hand to head to get them, the both of you happily laughing and eager the continue the night with his family.

Joaquin lovers list:  @oneeightysecond   @arcticmonkais    @amourtiara @sirianfromsixties         @sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face   @live-love-loki   @lyoongx  @skaravile   @jaylovesbats @niniitha-ah @cumberbitching @dirrtyginger @valentina15                                                                                                               

[writebycandlelight]

The Scar

Prompt: Levi has been used to being alone but a surprising insecurity might make it a more permanent problem.

Word Count: 1,975

Pairing: Levi x Reader

A/N: This story was inspired when i learned about Isayama saying Levi was a 2 in the AoT universe like wtf? He’s so handsome! Anyway here is my little take on that :)

Levi’s fingers gently pressed over his new scar, tracing it in the mirror. He could no longer see well out of his eye, everything was milky and blurry. Hange said he’d been lucky to neither lose the eye or go completely blind. His lips parted as he traced the scar there too, it was such a strange sensation now, when he licked his lips or put a teacup to them, he could feel the scar all the time. 

He sighed deeply, glancing away from the mirror and picked up the comb to finish combing his hair. Levi hadn't ever been a man much bothered by his appearance though he realized some time ago that many didn't really find him nice to look at. But it never really was something he'd cared about. That was until now. The scar made him feel more self-conscious. If people thought he wasn't good looking then they certainly weren't going to think so now with this hideous scar.

He gripped his comb tighter, embarrassed by his incoming thoughts. He hadn't felt a woman's touch in ages. His mind drifted to (Y/N). Sweet, caring, witty (Y/N), and wondered what she thought of him. He smiled lightly at the memory of (Y/N) fighting Hange about being there to change his bandages. She looked so fierce and determined, forcing Hange to teach her how to dress his wounds and clean them. He'd been angry and embarrassed then, in the beginning, but he warmed up to having her so close to him so often.

His eyes fluttered at the memories of her warm fingers brushing over his skin, her soothing voice when he tried hard not to wince in pain, the way she hummed for him when she thought he was asleep, and came to check on him and pulling the covers over him. He felt his skin tingle and he forced himself from his little daydream, he had to get going.

(Y/N) was rather worried about Levi, Hange was too. They’d both noticed his strange behavior a few days after his scars had healed. He seemed even more distant and recoiled when (Y/N) had tried to get his attention by touching his arm. 

“He seems more serious than usual, Hange. He has barely spoken a word outside of orders. He didn’t even greet me this morning,” (Y/N) said with concern as she sat in Hange’s quarters.

“I’ve noticed, I’m glad you’re as worried as I am. I think the cadets think he’s just in a bad mood. They’re avoiding him.”

“Probably a good call right now. But I wonder what’s wrong. I’ll have to corner him soon.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, (Y/N)? You know Levi doesnt like being questioned.”

“Obviously, but if he isn’t going to talk to us i’m going to make him. He was doing so well when I was taking care of him,” she murmured that last part, eyes glancing sideways.

Hange sighed, fastening her eyepatch properly and looking over at (Y/N). 

“He isn’t going to like it-”

“I know.”

“But i’m not going to stop you.”

(Y/N) smiled at her friend and nodded, standing now, “Thanks, Hange. I’ll tell you how it goes.”

(Y/N) was waiting for Levi in his room by the time he got there in the evening. She was setting down a tray of tea when he arrived.

He looked at her in surprise. “(Y/N)? What are you doing in here?” he asked in a rather snappy tone, his eyes glancing away from her. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him, worry dancing in her eyes, she made no move yet.

“I...just wanted to talk with you. It’s been a while and I wanted to see how you were doing-” she began, only to be cut off.

“I’m doing fine. Is that all you needed?” Levi said turning his back to her and going to his wardrobe, ripping off his cravat in the process.

(Y/N) groaned in frustration and took a step toward him.

“Don’t you dare ignore me!” She snapped at him. Her tone made him jump. He’s never heard her snap like that before, not at him anyway.

“You heard me. Turn around. Levi!” 

Finally, he turned to her, eyes flashing with annoyance and all his pent up anger, frustration, and insecurities came flying out of his mouth.

“Stop babying me! I’m not helpless. I can do things on my own. I don’t need you or Four Eyes on my back like I can’t breathe without falling apart. I don’t need either of you to look at me with any goddamn pity or worry. The scar is fine! I’m fine! I-I don’t care that I look like this so for fuck’s sake... leave it alone!” 

His shouting was muffled by the walls but the rest could hear it. Hange stiffened in her office. The kids sat in terrified silence in the mess hall.

(Y/N)’s outstretched hand and silence hung between them. Her eyes were wide and her hand shook. Levi breathed heavily as he glared at her. His eyes flashed down to glance at her hand, at how hard it shook. Levi looked up at (Y/N) again and his whole body felt like crumbling.

(Y/N)’s eyes were glazed over with unshed tears and her hand recoiled as he took a step forward. He froze at that. (Y/N) had never shied from his touch before. Not ever.

“(Y/N)-” he whispered, voice hoarse and it cracked.

She looked away, biting her lip hard.

“Fuck you, Levi. All I wanted was to make sure you were feeling okay. So,” she didn’t even look at him as she headed for the door, “fuck you.” And slammed it. 

Now, it was Levi’s hands that were left hanging, outstretched for the woman who had so deeply cared for him.

(Y/N) couldn’t hold back the tears now. She rushed to her own office, wiping away the tears that kept coming. God, Hange had been right. She knew he wouldn’t like it, but to yell at her like that. What the hell!? She flopped down onto her chair and buried her head in her arms. Damn him. Damn it all. 

She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed until she was able to gain the composure she deemed acceptable. She took a deep breath, still in her office chair and Levi’s words came tumbling back to her. But something caught in her mind. He mentioned his scar. His appearance. That it didn’t bother him. Why had he brought that up for? No one was looking at him weirdly, at least she wasn’t. Why would he even mention it for? Why did he have to tell her he didn’t care?

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed and she stood up startled, the chair falling over behind her. What a strange thought! She’d never even assumed that Levi might be concerned about that.

Night rolled around and Levi had finally worked up the courage to find (Y/N). Hange and the rest of the cadets had been giving him glares since they’d realized she’d been crying about being yelled at. Levi trekked out to the stables, rather unsurprised to find (Y/N) grooming one of the horses. She loved those animals. He knew she grew up around them and seemed to understand them well. 

(Y/N) stopped brushing when she heard Levi approach.

“Are you here to apologize?” (Y/N) asked quietly. His footsteps crunched in the straw and stopped by the stable door.

“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Levi said crossing his arms, “I know you were just trying to help.”

“I was,” she said, looking up at him now. He looked enchanting in the moonlight. His skin glowing in the moonlight, sharp-angled jaw, the way his brows furrowed at the bridge.

“Levi,” she said, steeling herself for possibly another yelling at this conversation, “I don’t think the scars make you look...unsightly.”

“Just call it ugly, (Y/N). You don’t have to be so damn gentle with me all the time,” Levi snapped again, he could feel that little wedge of fear and disappointment pressing into his heart now. He knew he’d said too much earlier. He couldn’t even look at her.

“But you’re not,” she pressed moving away from the horse and dropping the brush into a bucket, “Levi the moment i looked at you out here, i just..you took my breath away.”

Levi almost choked on his own spit, what the hell did she just say!? His steely eyes widened as he looked to her. She gave him a sheepish look, scratching at her cheek.

“You look shocked. Honestly, Levi, I didn’t think that the scars would have bothered you. But you’re just as human as the rest of us. You’re just so strong that sometimes I forget you have weaknesses. Especially because you do your best to make sure we don’t know you have any.”

Levi still only stared at her. What could he say to that!? His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. His breath caught in his throat when her hand reached out to touch his face, the side with the largest cut. Her warm fingers stroked his cold skin, as gentle as always, Levi instinctively leaned into her familiar touch.

He looked into her shimmering eyes, full of adoration and comfort, he smiled at her. She smiled back and Levi, being as blunt as he always was, pulled her to him, despite the stable door and kissed her.

(Y/N) gasped against his lips but was quick to kiss him deeply, her other hand moving to cup his face, pulling him to her. They broke away breathless and (Y/N) slipped out of the stable quickly as to kiss him again and again. Levi’s heart soared and he held her tightly to him, kissing her deeply and with a sort of eager roughness that (Y/N) loved. (Y/N) pulled back again, breathless, she pressed a kiss where the longest scar started, at his chin. She kissed her way up to his lips softly.

“You’re so beautiful, Levi. I’ve always thought so,” she breathed against his skin, making him shiver.

“So are you, (Y/N). You’re perfect,” he whispered and ran his hands down her sides, slipping up her shirt to her waist, feeling her warm skin twitch from his cold fingers. It made him smirk, she was always easy to rile up, it was truly the little things.

Then she kissed toward his three cheek scars, whispering in his ear, “why don’t you let me show you how beautiful i think every part of you is, hm..captain?”

For a moment all his blood froze cold at those words, before it rushed down, making (Y/N) smirk and squirm.

“Perfect,” she purred as she kissed his lips roughly. Levi swept her up in his arm and with a little discomfort and building excitement, Levi kissed her all the way to his room.

“I swear, by the walls, I wish he’d be yelling again. It has to be better than this,” wailed Armin, a pillow over his face. The sounds coming from upstairs had the young soldiers doing everything they could to muffle the sound. They all jumped when the door was slammed open. Hange stood there, staring wild-eyed at them.

“Get dressed, we’re going riding,” she hissed.

“But..it’s the middle of the night-” Jean replied.

“I said we’re going riding,” Hange shrieked, “now!”

Jean didn’t have time to reply as another loud moan penetrated through the rooms.

Hange was nearly knocked over as the soldiers fled from the room to the stables.

“I shouldn’t have let her fix it,” Hange groaned as she followed behind them.

[heartbreakgrill]

ER: Room 6; Calum Hood/Michael Clifford (?) Pt. 1

description: in which you’re on the night shift, covering for a nurse in the ER, when a patient and his band is admitted into your room.

a/n: this is the intro to a new series! Should your love interest be Cal or Mike? Let me know!

The computer chair emitted annoyingly consistive squeaks, the gears grinding as you rocked back and forth. The squeaking was accompanied by the clicking of the mouse as you dragged cards across the computer screen. You gnawed on your bottom lip, pupils dilated from the bright light of the computer screen. It was a relatively quiet night in the ICU, only half a dozen or so of patients sleeping soundly across the third floor. You were wrapped up in a too-large zip-up jacket, the hospital-provided blue scrubs not-so flattering on your figure. A patient had vomited on you earlier, then you vomited on yourself while running for the bathroom. It had only been halfway through your 24-hour shift, and you couldn’t go all the way across the city for a new set of scrubs.

Oh, and, the only available size for the scrubs was a men’s large. The strings were tied as tight as possible, pant legs rolled up. With this outfit and the amount of fly-always surrounding your face, you looked like a hot mess. You were covering for a friend who was sick, and your 12 hour shift turned into this 24 hour one. It was hour 8, and you were becoming increasingly bored. You and two other nurses were working the night shift, along with 2 doctors who circulated between here and the ER. All had been calm, though.

You continued to play solitaire, occasionally sipping at your hot tea, chowing down a granola bar. But, with the ding of the elevator, your boss and chief resident of the hospital, Dr. Greene, stepped out into the dimly lit reception area. You quickly stood, shrugging the jacket up around your shoulders better. You looped the abandoned stethoscope around your neck, grabbed two charts, and stuck a pen behind your ear.

“Evening, Y/N,” he stopped at the counter, heels of hands holding him into it.

You acted surprised, pushing your loose hair from your face. “Oh, hey, Dr. Greene. I was just about to do rounds.“

“Are you busy then? Could you get Nina to do that?” He gestured to your companion who was snoozing away with her head in her hands on the other side of the round desk area.

“I could, but may I ask why?” You politely responded, all too hopeful that he didn’t need you in the ER, but-

“Nurse Hathaway went home sick. Throwing up everywhere.” The corner of his lip tugged down in a disgusted-like expression. “Could you come help out a little?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, let me just-“

I threw up and didn’t go home sick, you thought, shaking awake Nina, informing her of the change, and collecting your things from the desk. Dr. Greene didn’t wait for you, already loading himself into the elevator and riding down to the ER. You took that opportunity to slip from the moccasins youd had on your feet. You tugged on tennis shoes and quickly punched a finger into the elevator que.

Moments later, you were pushing through the chaos of patients and stepping into the break room. You greeted the soap opera on the tv, the empty Chinese food cartons on the coffee table, and the sleeping doctor face down on the couch. Quietly, you set your bag on the chair beside him and left the room. You approached the counter, kneading your hands together. The ER made you nervous, which is why you chose to work in the ICU, but you had interned down here for a year.

It was loud, machines beeping, sometimes people screaming or crying. Because it was one of the five hospitals in LA, it was often busy with junkies or gangsters. You’d been caught by a gun on the back of your hip once, threatened to be stabbed, but overall rescued by the security around every corner. It was horrible.

You rapped a knuckle on the counter, tucking more loose hair behind your ears and carefully spinning the rings in them as you said, “What’s up, Frankie? Got anything for me?”

“Oh, Nurse Y/L/N, what’re you doing here?” Frankie, the receptionist, spun around in her chair. She chewed loudly on some bubblegum, spinning a pen in her hand.

“I’m Hathaway’s replacement. Got anything?” You repeated.

“Yeah, you can take over rooms 5-8. They’re empty, but there’s some people out in the waiting area. Not too much, its pretty slow except for the two trauma rooms being busy.” Frankie pointed off in each direction as she spoke.

You nodded, pushing yourself off the counter. You picked up a clipboard, took the pen from behind your ear, and hit the door to the waiting area open with your hip. Your eyes took in the four people waiting to be admitted, all tagged along with by one person or, in the sickest looking man’s position, three. You noticed the worried looks on their faces, the pale and clammy skin of the hunched over one, and immediately stepped towards them.

“Hi, I’m Nurse Y/L/N. I’m gonna be taking care of you today. If you follow me I’m gonna get you a room, okay?” You crouched down to be at eye level with the sick boy, whose blond hair made him look even lighter. He weakly nodded and you stood at the same time the dark-haired one did. “Can he walk?”

The question was answered when he stood and nearly fell on top of you. His arms slung around your shoulders and you caught myself on your heels. The three others grabbed him, pulling him off of you.

“Let me grab a wheelchair,” you walked to the corner of the room where a rack of wheelchairs were. You popped one open and helped situate the boy into it. You gestured for the others to follow, the dark haired one falling in step with you.

He was flustered, hair shaggy with worried hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. “He’s been sick for a few days, but it got really bad last night. Said his chest was hurting and he was really short of breath. He doesnt have, like, heart or chest problems, so we got worried.”

You stopped outside of the room and he took it as his cue to open the door. He did, you thanked him, and stepped inside. Your lips cracked into a smile, “You should be worried even he did have chest and heart problems.”

The boy let out a shuddered laugh, skin sticky with sweat. “y-yeah.”

You shut the door and stepped up to the bed, “Can you help me get him up here?” They all did, hands shaky and faces weary. “Okay. Go ahead and take a seat. I have to do a physical evaluation before I get a doctor. I need to know what information to present a doctor with.”

“His names Michael, by the way,” the dark haired one added once they all nodded with approval to your plans. “I’m Calum. Hood, his last names Clifford.”

“You already did paperwork in the waiting area, right?” You carefully brushed Michaels hair from eyes, peeling them open to shine your flashlight in them. His eyes responded with dilation, a positive sign.

“No? No one really told us anything,” the tall blond responded.

You huffed, rolled your eyes, but tried not to look annoyed for your patient’s. “Okay, why dont one of you go to the front desk and ask for an information sheet. You’ll need to fill it out for him. i dont think he’s in any shape to hold a pen-“

You had been roaming your hands around his body, taking his blood pressure, peering at the back of his throat. Now, you were checking his pulse, and noticed that his fingernails were blue. You glanced back up at his lips, hearing the door open and close. The blond was gone, doing what you told him to. Michaels lips were blue.

You checked his blood pressure on the paper and frowned. It was normal, but you continued by taking his temperature. It was 104.2. You quickly unwrapped the stethoscope from your neck and lifted his shirt. He shuddered at your cold fingertips, causing a wave of shivers to wrack his body.

“Sorry, sh, its okay,” you cooed, hearing your voice drowned out by the quickness of his heartbeat. Keeping yourself cool, calm, and collected, you took the buds from your ears and tucked it around your neck. “Okay, I am going to get a doctor.“

You slipped from the room before they could question your flushed face. Quickly, you turned the corner from your assigned rooms and walked towards the desk, where a white coat was signing papers.

“Dr. Greene?” You stopped before him, “I have possible pneumonia in 6. He’s struggling to breath and I’m worried he’ll go into respiratory distress if we dont get him hooked up.”

Greene choked on his coffee and tore the clipboard from your hands. “Alright, lets get going.”

You took twice as many strides, shorter than the doctor who didn’t wait for you. The two of you calmed your exposures outside the room, not wanting to scare the boys inside. The blond was back with his own clipboard, scribbling and murmuring with the other two.

They nudged each other to pay attention when Dr. Greene arrived. You smiled politely at them, moving to stand across from Dr. Greene. “Michael Clifford, fingernails and lips are blue, coughing like crazy but no signs of blood. Chills, temperature of 104.5, blood pressure is 160 over 120, heartbeat is quick, but I didn’t have time to check because I came for you.”

Dr. Greene reached for the blood pressure equipment and took it again, eyes widening when he showed you the 100/120. “Okay, lets get him IVed, put a nasal cannula for oxygenation, order some blood tests, a chest x-ray, pulse oximetry, and a sputum test. Let me know what you happens and I will be back to help evaluate further instructions.”

“Okay, thank you,” you got to work, quickly wrapping a band around the left arm of your patient. This one was blank of tattoos, but still pretty thick with muscle. You couldn’t deny he was a handsome man, despite the blue lips, pale skin, and sweaty exterior.

You briefly heard Dr.Greene informing Michael’s friends of what was happening when the patient himself mumbled something. You quirked a brow, hummed, and leaned closer as you began to set up the nasal cannula. “What’s happening?”

“Hi, Michael,” you spoke gently, “my name is Nurse Y/N. Your friends brought you in because they were worried about you. Turns out, they were right to be. Your BP dropped to 100/120, your skin is blueing, your heartbeats rapid, inhale is clouded, and temperature is 104.5.”

“They actually care about me?” He weakly chortled, immediately coughing into his hands afterwards. You didn’t fault to notice the blood and carefully helped him settle back into the pillows.

“Hey, here,” you grabbed a cloth, wetted it under the sink, and carefully blotted at his hands, his lips.

He briefly smiled at you, eyes barely cracked open. “Youre really pretty.”

You blushed, scrunching up your nose as you set up fluids to run through his system. He was dehydrated, and you didn’t need a doctor to tell you that. “Thanks, Michael.”

You turned to leave, nodding at the boys as you passed. You found the telephone on the wall beside the room and dialed the memorized numbers. Soon, you were back in the room, pulling up the handles of Michael’s bed. You hooked his IV bag to the rod sticking up in the back, hung the clipboard by the front rung, and helped Calum push the bed through the door.

The two of you loaded the elevator, your eyes focused on the fluttering lashes on the sleep patient sleeping soundly below you. Calum was staring at the floor, eyes glassy with worry.

“Hes going to be okay, Calum. Worst case scenario, he ends up in the ICU for 4-6 days and Ill be watching him.” You giggled, smiling wider when Calum chortled.

“I thought you worked down here?” He twisted his hands on the handles, eyes fluttering around the elevator. Suddenly, it ringed and the doors opened.

You pushed along behind him, instructing him on which door to enter. “I was just covering for someone. I’m usually stationed in the ICU.”

“Oh,” Calum responded. You told him to take a seat in the waiting area and checked in with the x-ray administrators.

When Michael was wheeled into the room and transferred to the x-ray cot, you turned to join Calum. You sat in the chair beside him, arms crossed.

“How old are you?” He turned to ask.

“Why?” You shook your head, an amused expression on your face.

“Well, if he’s gonna be in the ICU for 4-6 days, I’m going to be there, too. Might as well get to know you before I’m up your ass for the next week.”

You liked this guy, and this unworried side of him. You could tell his humor would have you bent at the waist, head thrown back in laughter. You lifted a brow, smirked, and said, “Bold of you to assume I’m not going to be up your ass.”

“Try me.”

A beat of silence passed, both of your eyes turned away from one another, “I’m 23.”

Calum tilted his head towards you and smiled, “23. Youre young.”

“graduated early, top of my class,” you shrugged your shoulders with pride on your chest.”What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“Well, I’m surprised you weren’t fangirling when I introduced myself.” Amused with your twisted face, he continued, “I’m in a band. 5 Seconds of Summer. I play bass.”

You suddenly noticed his accent, which seemed to be faded from years in the US, “That makes, strangely, lots of sense. I can see you playing bass.”

He had huge dimples which deepened. “Maybe you can actually see me someday.”

“Woah, Hood, lets get through this x-ray first.”

[stateofloveandnegan]

Hey Ed - Eddie Vedder

Hi, dear! First of all - Merry Christmas! I saw that you liked my song about Ed and I couldn’t but notice you’re a fic account, aha. Reading fics is literally my only escape from life these days. If you could, if it’s not too much to ask, could you maybe make a fic scenario out of that song with like a mix of Solider of Love. Like the girl is friends with Eddie and the band, they both have really good playful flirty chemistry/really like each other, but she’s really hesitant to accept her feelings for him let alone admit it because she’s insecure/doesn’t think she’s good enough and closed off due to her hurtful past. So finally after days of denial and failing to move on, he walks in on her singing that song by herself in a room. And y’know the fluffy or smutty rest, aha. I just thought it would be cute, aha. Totally understand if you’re busy though, it is the holidays after all.

So, what do I say..? I got this request about a year ago, it wasn’t last Christmas, it was Christmas 2018. I’ve literally taken forever and I feel really bad for it, but it’s been a weird (not all bad) year and most of the time I simply didn’t know what to write down, I had no inspiration. Since we’re all practically in quarantine, I thought it’d be a good time to try and get back to writing. I had part of the story written before, but today I deleted it all and started over. 

Lili, I've said it before, but I apologise for it taking so long. You have no idea how much I appreciate your patience. I deeply hope you enjoy it!

Requested by: @sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face​

Warning(s): tiny bit of angst

“Hey, Lili! Come here,” Eddie smiles at me and opens his arms as he gets up from his seat in the booth. I smile and my heart flutters at how cute he is. I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him as he kisses my cheek. “S’good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you as well, how are you? I haven’t seen you in quite a while.” I smile at him and he mirrors my expression. “I’ve been great, just busy with the band and all that stuff. Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? We can catch up and talk all we want.”

The idea of having dinner with Eddie alone makes my heart flutter, but I quickly push that feeling away and smirk, bringing the usual flirty demeanor between us back. “Dinner, hm? Just you and me? One would almost say you’re up to something, Vedder.”

I almost notice a slight blush on Eddie’s cheeks, but he’s quick to roll his eyes with a smirk and shake his head fondly.

Soon, we join the others at the table, I greet everyone and take a seat across from Eddie. Throughout the night, Eddie and I keep sneaking glances at each other, and we keep catching one another. For a long time, I can keep up my flirty demeanor, the smirk on my face barely fading. But, after a while, I notice the feelings I have for him blossoming up and as soon as I feel them, I push them away. I get up from my seat and excuse myself to the bathroom. ‘Stop it, they’re not real.’I mumble to myself as I look into the mirror after splashing a tiny bit of water on my face.

After a couple of minutes, the door to the ladies’ restroom opens and Katie, Mike’s girlfriend, walks in with a sympathetic smile on her face. “Are you still trying to fight your feelings?”

I know she never means harm, but she knows how hard this is for me, she knows it’s stupid to joke about these things, and she does it anyway. “Piss off, Katie.”

She sighs, “C’mon Lili, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got feelings for him, so what? He seems to feel the same, you know? He wouldn’t be so damn flirty with you if he doesn’t like you.”

I shake my head, “He doesn’t, and he never will. Do you know me, Katie? A guy like him could never like a girl like me. I’m not even close to what he deserves.”

Before she can say anything, I leave the restroom, quickly come up with an excuse as I gather my things and leave my friends to go to my dad’s little garage studio. I’ve had my own place for a good couple of years now, but I always find my way back to my parents’ house when I want to hide away from stuff; like my feelings.

When I get there, there’s no one home. My parents said they would go away for the weekend, so I’m not surprised to find the house abandoned. Right now, I’m happy they’re not here, especially my dad. He’s always been able to read me like an open book, so he’d immediately notice something’s wrong.

I make myself a cup of tea and a small bowl of chips and retreat to the garage. I’ve been working on some stuff for a while now, but I can’t seem to get the words right. Also because I’m not even sure what I want it to be about, which probably isn’t helping the situation.

Nonetheless, I get my notebook out of my bag and sit down beside it with my dad’s guitar in my lap. I gently begin to play some chords, getting into a rhythm as I slowly hum a melody. I keep doing this for a while before some words suddenly come to me, and without hesitation, I begin to write them down in the notebook.

It’s like I’m trying to sleep in somebody else’s bed

But I can’t lie in this comfort and pretend.

He murmurs my sad thoughts, he screams my shit,

But my heart don’t mirror his perfect wit.

As soon as I realize what the next words are going to be, I curse myself and slam my notebook shut, why does he always need to be on my mind?

I stay at my parents’ house for a little while longer, but when I notice the clock hitting 12:30am, I gather my things and make my way home. My mind is like a whirlwind, all the thoughts and feelings I’ve been suppressing for the last few months coming together all at once. Yet still, I don’t listen to any of them. I know how I feel, but I’m not going to give into them, because I know how it’s going to be..

If I accept the fact that I have strong feelings for Eddie, and if I were to tell him that, he’d just laugh it off. I’d be hurt and I’d feel even more like garbage than I already am.

Guys don’t like me, not genuinely. All they like me for is a little bit of fun and when they’ve had their fun, they throw me out. I’ve been there, done that… It was like that with Kenny. We’d known each other for a long time and at one point I realized I’d fallen for him. I told him how I felt, and he told me he felt the same. We started dating, but he never wanted to do stuff in public. And if he was feeling down, he would always cancel plans because he would not be in the ‘mood’ anyways. I was too naïve to realize what he actually meant with that.

It wasn’t until one day, when we went out for lunch. I was so happy we actually went out for once, but I noticed Kenny wasn’t too happy about it. And it wasn’t until the moment his friends ‘caught’ him with me. They came up to us, throwing comments and laughing at Kenny for spending time with ‘someone like me’. Kenny didn’t even hesitate when he stood up, and his words are craved in my mind for the rest of my life. “Do you really think I’d take her seriously? C’mon guys, she’s just a good fuck and was desperate for lunch. But now that I’m here I realize she isn’t even worth having lunch with. Let’s get out of here.”

Truth is, Kenny wasn’t the first one to betray and hurt me like that, before Kenny it was Patrick. Guys don’t like me… I’m not worth it for anyone. So why on earth would Eddie think any different?

Some days go by and I keep getting the urge to write down the words that play in my head,

Hey Ed, I heard what you said

But my tears are still bled,

Hey Ed, you’re on of my daily meds,

But your solution is so far ahead.

“I don’t know how to handle it anymore, Katie.” I say in tears as she wraps her arms around me. Earlier, she called me to hang out and I thought it’d be nice, to maybe get my attention away from all the things in my mind, but as soon as I saw Katie, I couldn’t hold back all my emotions anymore.

Katie’s known me for years, she knows what I’ve been through and how I feel about everything connected to love. She knows how I feel about Eddie, she knew it long before I did. “Accepting your feelings could be a good first, Lili. Don’t torture yourself like this any longer.”

It takes me a whole lot of effort and energy, but after a couple of minutes, I quietly speak up. “I’ve got these words in my head, they could very perfectly become a song, but I couldn’t… I didn’t want to write them all down, because I didn’t want to give in.”

Katie sighs softly and leans back a little so she can look at me, “Give into them, Liliana. It’s gonna kill you if you don’t. give in and write that song, you’re going to feel so much better, I promise.”

I nod slowly and wipe my tears. Katie smiles softly and gives me one last hug, making sure I’m going to be alright, and leaves.

Before I get to writing down the words, I go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. Fortunately, my face didn’t get too red, so I just splash some water on my face and apply a bit of mascara. When I’m happy with how I look, which is when it’s not noticeable that I’ve cried, I go back to my room, grab my guitar and sit down on my bed with a pencil and the notebook beside me.

I close my eyes for a moment, let out a deep sigh, and let all the thoughts and feelings come out. The pencil slides over the paper, the words coming so fast, my hand can barely keep up with my mind. After what feels like less than a minute, the lyrics are written down on the paper. I grab my guitar and start playing a slow melody that fits the mood perfectly. When I’ve found the perfect rhythm, I softly begin to sing the words, getting lost in my own world as I close my eyes.

It’s like I’m trying to sleep in somebody else’s bed

But I can’t lie in this comfort and pretend.

He murmurs my sad thoughts, he screams my shit,

But my heart don’t mirror his perfect wit.

Hey Ed, I heard what you said

But my tears are still bled,

Hey Ed, you’re on of my daily meds,

But your solution is so far ahead.

Who knew a voice could make you soar,

Even when you’re feeling most unsure,

Sometimes I feel like your soul is the cure,

But how much can one body endure?

Hey Ed, I heard what you said

I know you want the powerless fed,

Hey Ed, I know what you said

But I still feel so unread.

You’re one of us, just on the stage.

Sometimes that feels far away.

That’s just the way of the pay.

You still make our days less grey.

Hey Ed, I heard what you said,

You’re the reason my worries fled.

Hey Ed, I heard what you said,

I’d just wish you’d get out of my head.

When I’m done, I slowly open my eyes, finding myself back. When my eyes land on him, my heart sinks and I feel the need to vanish, but his words tell me otherwise, and when I look closely, I notice his eyes aren’t like they usually are; they’re filled with tears.

“E-Eddie?” I quietly speak up. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just walks closer to me, gently takes the guitar from me and puts it down before bringing his rough hands up to my cheeks. And then it happens… he leans forwards and plants his soft lips onto mine, kissing me softly, yet with so much passion and only now I realize how much of a fool I’ve been. He does feel the same…

The kiss lasts forever, but when he pulls back it also feels like it only lasted a second. Eddie rests his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath for a moment. When I open my eyes, Eddie’s already looking at me. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lili?” his low and husky, because of the tears, voice gently asks me.

I sigh softly and shrug a little, “You’re amazing, Eddie. You literally deserve the world and more… how did you expect me to think I’d be good enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb softly over my cheek, “You are worth so much more than you think, Liliana. You are the sweetest, most amazing, most loving… most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Don’t ever speak so lowly of yourself again, please.”

I’m unable to find the right words to say to him, so I just wrap my arms around him and hold him close, as Eddie does the same.

“How did you even get in?” I manage to get out, a small smile entering my face. Eddie chuckles and pulls back so he can look at me, “Katie texted me earlier, saying you could use a friend. I got here as soon as I got and the door was unlocked, so I let myself. Then I heard you sing, and I couldn’t help my curiousness…” a sheepish smile enters his face as his cheeks light up a little.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m thankful Katie did that…” I admit, unable to get my eyes off Eddie’s. Eddie smiles and nods, “Me, too.”

Eddie comes closer again and presses another kiss onto my lips, “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you somewhere for dinner.”

“I’d love nothing more, Eddie.”

[eremika-forever12]

|| Drunk In Love : Eremika Drabble ||

Flushed & drunk, Mikasa trips over someone laying below her....with drowsy eyes she finds out its Sasha laying completely flat on the ground blabbering something in her sleep....

Suddenly Mikasa started to feel all funny as she started to giggle slightly!

Ah This Wine....It is doing something to her stomach & her throat! Did she have too much of it?

Well Whatever....Its doesnt feel bad....its just she feels she is floating in some air!

Mikasa could feel....her eyes were on verge of shutting but instead she rubbed her eyes vigorously as she jumped over Sasha trying to not wake her up....

In attempt to do so she lost her balance and fell on ground with thud.

Mikasa groaned a bit as she muttered to herself- Ah my...Ass! This....is so...

Suddenly she realised she just fell infront of Eren who was laying on ground with eyes closed.

Was he sleeping? Mikasa wondered with her drunk eyes.

She realised her face was so close to him as she laid flat on the ground.

Mikasa grinned to herself while staring at Eren- Eren....There You Are! Looking handsome as ever!

His face was so close to her that she could feel her cheeks getting Warm!

She could see his slight open mouth as his eyes remained close....must have just passed out from being drunk!

Mikasa just couldn't help but stare at his face intensely as she remembered What he told her few hours back or more appropriately what he asked her!

The moon light fell on him.....making his face shine brighter as she remembered his words...

“ Why Is It....That You Care So Much About Me?”

“ What Am I To You?”

Mikasa ears got redden a bit....back then she couldn't answer honestly!

All she did was stammering in front of him & hesitantly told him that he was family to her!

Mikasa could be drunk as hell but her brain was still functioning in proper way....thats what she thought!

Mikasa lightly touched Eren's hair as she wondered Was she honest with him? At that moment? More importantly Is she honest with herself?

Mikasa dragged herself a bit crawling more closer to Eren....

She could smell his aura now...

Why did she lie back then? Why cant she just confess to him for once and all! How much he matters to her! How much she feels for him!

Mikasa could feel her eyes closing but no she cant sleep now....no matter how much her head was whirling!

She wont get such chance again in her life....being so close to Eren....stare at him whole night while he being unknown to her deep stare!

But today at the moment, her heart started to feel heavy! She felt a huge burden of emotions wanting to erupt all of a sudden!

Her eyes beemed with tears as she breathed heavily close to Eren’s cheeks.

He seems in deep sleep looking adorable as hell...

Mikasa muttered in low tone as she looked at him being all drowsy- Eren....I wish I could....just froze this....moment....with you!

She stammered as she continued- is....nt? The night.....so....cold....so...br...eezy? But beautiful?

She slowly puts her one hand on his shoulder as laid properly close to him....

Mikasa sighs as a tear unknowingly trickled down her cheek as she stared at him....feeling all dizzy...

Mikasa in low voice- I have to confess something to you....Very important! I know....you...wo..nt be listening but still I would say....as I need to release the heaviness from my chest! I wanna....be honest....with you....back then...I couldn't....couldn’t blurt out the truth....

Suddenly Eren's eyes stirred a bit unknown to Mikasa as her eyes were already closed but she kept on murmuring- You....are....You are not My....Fam...mily...Only! These feelings were....burried deep down me....since....we were small....Eren I Just Want To Say....I Always.....

Eren eyes shot open widely as he stared at the sky....

Eren's POV

My Head Hurts Badly!

My Throat Is Dry....With The Feeling Of Need Of Water!

I Feel Restless....

More Importantly My Heart....It Aches So Much! I Wonder Why!

Even Though I apparently dont feel drunk even after drinking so much!

Which is not wierd but Today I feel like Alien To Myself!

I could see my friends passing out after being completely drunk while I Just remain unaffected still trying to consume more of alcohol!

But nothing was working.....

The Pain In My Heart Was More Than Anything....

What Is Happening To Me!

Is it because of What Mikasa answered!

Well wasnt that obvious? I was indeed family to her....but then Why....

What was I hoping for?

Ah....A Last desperate chance....to feel myself worth of living....worth of being loved....

I tried to search that last hope in her....I knew what she was going to say anyway still I wished it was a different answer...

I dont know about her but lately I did start to see her in different light....

Something more than a family...I cant comprehend the feeling but it is something beautiful!

The sight of her face was a beauty to me & a sense of purity in me!

Dont know from when it all started....I started to like her in a different way....I dont know what exact word it should be....Love? Perhaps? Ahhh Me & Love! Funny it is!

I am not the person who deserve to be loved but I still hoped....if she also saw me in that different light! Or was indeed just I was a family to her!

I am hurt maybe by her answer....but perhaps its for best! She deserves better anyways! Not a monster like me!

Ah what am I even talking! I dont feel well again....I need rest , some silence from this chaos....

But I want to memorise this last moment with my friends....Ah Armin he already passed out! My eyes searched for Mikasa again....& I could see she was still drinking with Sasha being all flushed!

I smiled to myself as I laid on ground trying to find some peace by closing my eyes!

All I could see was Mikasa......

---------------

---------------

Everything is dark....I have no idea where I was at the moment....was I in my future memories! Or is it something of Dad! So hard to concentrate....I could hear chattering all around me!

Where am I? Am I Sleeping? Having some dream?

I could smell.....alcohol breath near me....

Probably from my coat....No wait someone is near me....I can feel it...

The breath touching my face....someone is saying something.....

The voice is so low....I could feel touch on my hair as the voice neared....

Mikasa? Is that you? Yes its you....I can always identify you voice but Why do you sound so unclear!

I could hear her saying “ Eren....Eren”

Her voice sounds so sexy all of sudden....Wait I think this is a dream!

“ I wish...I could....just froze this....moment....with you! “

Wait What? What is she saying? Her voice sounds heavy!

A hand on my shoulder....she placed her hand on me....her breath was more heavier now! Is it real? Is she really beside me? My head spins badly....I want to open my eyes but What if all these is a dream! I dont want to break this dream! I never get to see such dream with so much real feels!

I could hear her voice again....she is continuously blabbering something and I am having hard time to understand it!

“ I wanna....be honest....with you....back then...I couldn't....couldn’t blurt out the truth....”

Heyyyy What!!!!! What Truth? What is she talking about?

The voice has begun to reduce....but I could hear clearly now...

“ You....are....You are not My....Fam...mily...Only! These feelings were....burried deep down me....since....we were small....Eren I Just Want To Say....I Always.....”

Is she....Real? I Opened My Eyes At Once....I was so blank....I could see stars infront of me in the sky...

“....I Always Loved You “

My Heart just skipped a beat....

I turned around slowly to the side from where the voice is coming and I found myself facing her completely....Our faces so close....My nose lightly brushed with her forehead....a current passed down my spine as I moved a bit back....feeling heat rushing to my cheeks...

Her eyes are closed....She passed out from being drunk....but she was still muttering something in her sleep....and Whatever she spoke right now was all real but difference is she was not in her senses....

I found myself staring at her for a while....she looked so calm....and beautiful while being asleep...

And I noticed a trail of dry tear along her cheek on one side....Was she crying?

I hesitantly touched her cheek....

As she suddenly spoke in her sleep making me alarmed- Eren....I will...always...Love You Till End....! I dont know about you....But....My....Love Will...Follow...You...Anywhere YOU GO!

Her voice was low but I heard it all...My heart was heavy! My eyes beemed with tears...

I brushed off her hair strands away from her face without trying to wake her up....

She Just Told Me Even Though In Her Sleep What I Wanted To Hear Back Then....

She felt What I felt! Her feelings are same for me just mine are for her!

She wont even remember What she said in her sleep! Was it fair? Well maybe Yes! I dont deserve to be loved after What I am gonna do....

I felt tears welling up in my eyes....

I will be leaving Tomorrow....keeping everything behind....

The sadness is back inside me....I couldnt confess her back, maybe I wont be able to do it ever....As everything will change from tomorrow....

I dont know what the future holds after What I am going to do! Probably everything wont be same and I dont expect it to be....I stared back at the sky!

I got everything tonight....What I needed most before I start my final Mission!

I turned back to look at Mikasa who was now fast asleep as I smiled sadly & whispered- I LOVE YOU TOO MIKASA!

P.S So This Was A Small Shot On Eremika Moment Chapter 123😂 I Badly Want Something Like This Which Might Have Happened Back Then So Decided To Write It Down Myself😂 Hope you guys like it. Like, Share & Comment.