#this is worse than last week when a lady demanded I put her down for a 90 min massage in an hour

[doriansbutt]

y’all some people really have some balls. or just a…misunderstanding of places that require appointments.

man: when’s ur next opening for 5 people

me: uh what service are you looking for?

man: foot and body massage?

me: *guides him to website with our menu of services, proceeds to spend 5 minutes asking for any more gd clarification which proves mostly useless*

me: okay the next time I have 5 therapists available at the same time is….January 30th—

man: oh no I meant for today!

me: HAHAHA no we’re completely booked today??? I don’t even have 5 therapists working today?????

man: what?? damn *hangs up*

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader finds out exactly what Bucky wants out of this experiment.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst

Bucky Barnes was sitting right across from you. His long brown hair was neat and smooth but hiding his face. He wore a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. That's really hot, was the first thing that popped into your head. You immediately chastised yourself - now is aggressively not the time. He had a subtle stubble and dark circles, which made his light eyes stand out. The look on his face confused you. You could tell he was pissed, but when his eyes met yours, it turned to...pity? Guilt? Embarrassment? He could barely look at you. Before you had time to analyze the meaning behind his expression, his lawyer started talking.

"Sergeant Barnes has a few stipulations regarding this study. He WILL participate, as his contract demands, and he will do so without resistance. However, he will only be paired with one test subject. If this young lady is the only viable candidate you have for the study, after all these years, then I would assume she will be the one."

"You can't make demands like this, the study may require more than one test subject who could produce offspring. His request is denied," the woman flatly responded.

"With all due respect, you've spent years looking for a subject who has even the slightest possibility of moving forward with the study. It would be foolish to jeopardize his complacency for the chance you MIGHT find another subject. Now if you don't mind, I was not finished with his request," the lawyer retorted. "Sergeant Barnes would like to uphold the young lady's honor. If he is to produce a child with this woman, he would like to do so properly. He would like to propose a marriage arrangement, along with their own house free from your poking and prodding."

The woman looked to the others in the room, took a deep breath, and relented. "Alright, if Barnes wants to live his little apple-pie life, we'll sign off on it. But the timeline for an expected pregnancy just moved up. And let me make this very clear: you are not in a position to make any more demands. After your little stunt last week, you're on thin fucking ice."

With that, she and the others left the room, leaving you alone with Bucky and his lawyer.

"I'll get the marriage license in order, as well as negotiate your living quarters. I'll keep in touch. Who knows what timeline they're expecting now." The lawyer finished packing his briefcase and walked towards the door. No no no no, please don't leave me alone with him, you thought. I don't know what to do or say. Where do I even go? Back to the hotel? After all of this?

The sound of the door closing made you jump, even though you knew it was coming. You looked down at your wringing hands, bursting with nervous energy, unsure of what to do next. Do you introduce yourself? Make small talk? Was someone going to escort you back to the hotel? Your mind was reeling. You knew for a fact your face was flushed and your eyebrows were furrowed, which made you even more embarrassed. You decided you'd ask him what happened last week that put him on thin ice. Just as you mustered the courage to ask, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. His voice was raspy and low, barely a whisper. This confused you. Isn't he just as much a victim as you are?

"I don't understand," you responded, "this isn't your fault. We're both trapped." He nodded slowly, trying desperately to keep composure.

"If it weren't for me, there would be no study. You wouldn't even be here," he said. He was getting angry, his volume slowly increasing. So much for keeping his cool. "Now you're stuck. With me. I'm trying to do the right thing, but you don't understand, I'm not a good person. I've killed people. A lot of people. And now you're stuck." He stood up and started pacing the room. You felt the need to console him, but you weren't quite sure where to start. How do you calm down the Winter Soldier?

"Bucky listen to me. This is not your fault. We're in the same boat; we need to be a team. That's the only way we're gonna get through this." You stood up and slowly made your way towards him.

"You're not getting it - we don't 'get through this.' This is forever. This is the rest of our lives. The rest of our kids' lives. There is no happy ending, it's just being lab rats until we die." His words were starting to sink in and you realized he was right - this little science experiment will never end. As you struggled to say something - anything - a couple agents entered the room to escort you back to your hotel room. Part of you was relieved. Maybe with some quiet time, it'll sink in that you're about to become Mrs. Barnes.

Chapter 3

[tennessoui]

would you ever do a hunger games au? like anakin and obi-wan in the arena and doing a katniss and peeta thing where they both survive? anakin maybe killing the competitors so obi-wan wouldn't have to? (just thinking that child killing is in character for him) anyway no pressure or anything I just haven't stopped thinking about a hunger games au of obikin and. I thought maybe you could do something with it!

i need you to know i shamefully snorted at the child murder thing i'm sorry and i'm also sorry this took so long and it's a bit all over the place and doesn't actually get into the Games at all (+ it's been years since I read the books so all inaccuracies should be tastefully ignored pls) this may not be what you asked for tbh but here you go!!

(content warnings: hunger games typical discussion of child murder, but nothing graphic)

(1.7k)

Anakin’s first emotion after his name is called is a strange sense of relief.

Good, he thinks. I’ll get to go with Obi-Wan. He won’t be alone.

He dutifully steps forward out of the crowd towards the stage, where the announcer is waiting next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan who is looking at him with an expression of naked devastation.

Anakin tries to convey that it’ll be alright, that it’s fine, that they knew this was a possibility. Sure, it’s Anakin’s last year eligible to be in the Games. Sure his nineteenth birthday is in two weeks, at which point he would become too old to qualify as a child to the Capitol, but what’s done is done.

Obi-Wan will be his mentor, because Obi-Wan has been the mentor for District Four ever since he won his own Games seven years ago when he was sixteen and Anakin was twelve.

That year’s known unofficially as the most boring Games in Panem history, but the Capitol loves how handsome Obi-Wan’s grown to be. So what if he didn’t kill his competitors messily or with a bloodthirsty joy? He’s so polite in his interviews all these years later, and look at those dimples!

It makes Anakin sick, every time Obi-Wan has to leave District Four and travel to the Capitol to be fawned over and stroked and used. His nightmares are always worse the weeks after he gets back, and he never lets Anakin hold him during them.

And it’s even worse during the actual Games, when Obi-Wan is put in charge of two children’s lives only to see them brutally murdered on screen a week later. The cameras always show his reaction when the competitors from District Four die. They must think he cries pretty or something.

Anakin hates the Capitol. He hates them for what they’ve done to Obi-Wan. What they’ve made him into

As he gets close enough to the stage, he notices that Obi-Wan’s hands are shaking slightly.

He doesn’t even listen to the name of the girl being called. She’s not important. She’ll be dead in a few days time. What’s important is Obi-Wan. What’s important is comforting him, is reassuring him. Is coming back to him.

This is the moment when Anakin resolves that these Games will become known as the quickest in history.

---

The girl is understandably sullen and upset on the train. “I should get a different mentor!” she demands. “It’s obvious you’re going to play favorites with him.”

Anakin doesn’t snap back because she’ll be dead in a few days. Though she really shouldn’t use that tone with Obi-Wan.

“I’m not playing favorites,” Obi-Wan insists. “I don’t have favorites.”

“You literally just wiped sauce off his mouth with your finger,” the girl points out. “And then he licked it!”

Anakin smirks at her. Of course Obi-Wan has favorites. Of course Anakin is Obi-Wan’s favorite. It took him years to wear down Obi-Wan until he allowed him this close, and years after that until he finally got to kiss him for the first time, just a few months ago.

If she thinks he’s going to give up any of his Obi-Wan time so she can get her hopes up about not dying in a few days, she’s got another thing coming.

But Obi-Wan shifts away from him and he looks guilty.

If Anakin could get away with killing the other person from his district, he would. But it’d probably make Obi-Wan sad.

“Is whining part of your strategy?” he asks waspishly instead. “I don’t think it’ll make you many allies.”

She has the nerve to look offended.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chides. Underneath the table, he squeezes his knee.

“Everyone in the district knows about you two,” she glares at him. “You haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

Anakin hasn’t exactly tried to keep it a secret. The first night Obi-Wan had kissed him, he went straight home and told his mother, his neighbor, his schoolmates, his cat, and his ex-girlfriend.

(No one had been surprised, except maybe the cat.)

“It’s not fair,” she cries. “Who can I talk to to get a different mentor for me?”

“The ethics board,” Anakin smiles, all teeth, settling back into his seat and slinging an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, this time more exasperatedly. “Robin, I promise I will be the best mentor you can ask for. It is my wish to see you survive as long as possible in the next few weeks.”

The girl jumps to her feet in outrage. “You can’t even say you want me to win!” she yells. There are tears at the corners of her eyes. If she were a little less annoying, Anakin would feel quite bad for her. Obviously Obi-Wan doesn’t want her to win. Anakin’s right here.

She storms out of the train compartment, her face in her hands. Anakin barely waits for the door to close before he’s slipping into Obi-Wan’s lap and throwing his arms around his neck with a groan. “God, I thought she’d never leave.”

He isn’t pushed away. Obi-Wan must realize they only have a handful of days left to be together before he goes into the arena.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says wearily, even as his arms encircle his waist.

Anakin presses a kiss to his nose and then another to his cheek. “It’s alright to have favorites, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs. “And she should know there’s no way she’s winning anything. Don’t waste your time.”

“I will do everything I can to make sure she survives as long as possible,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I don’t think I can survive anything else.”

Obi-Wan’s voice sounds shaky, so Anakin presses their lips together. Best not to talk for awhile.

------

“We should discuss strategy,” Obi-Wan says later that night through frantic kisses. “Sponsors, story, training--”

“I have a strategy,” Anakin murmurs back as he moves further down the bed, rucking up his partner’s shirt. “Win.”

----

“You look absolutely radiant,” Anakin tells the girl in an undertone while they’re in line for their interviews. She turns around to glare at him. The designer for their district has gone for the typical fish designs that people always associate with District Four, and they’ve dressed her up in a shimmering iridescent gown that flares at the ends like a fish’s tail.

Anakin’s own outfit is mostly a fishing net draped over one shoulder and a pair of tight pants. The designer, much to Obi-Wan’s embarrassment and Anakin’s satisfaction, had taken one look at his shirtless chest and decided to dress him in as little clothes as possible.

“Weird braid,” is all she says.

Obi-Wan had done it late last night when both of them had tired each other out and Anakin had curled up on his chest. After his Games, Obi-Wan’s hands like to do something. The repetitive motion of braiding and unbraiding Anakin’s hair soothes his demons.

It’s one of the reasons Anakin’s grown it out to his shoulders, much longer than is practical for his district.

Obi-Wan had gone to unbraid it, and Anakin had stopped him. He wanted to keep it. To wear it into the Games.

“Thank you,” he says generously. “I saw your score. 7’s not too bad.”

She sneers at him. “Did you celebrate your 11 with your boyfriend?”

“Oh sorry,” he winces. “Did you hear us? I’m just so bad at biting my tongue when he does this thing with his.”

She scoffs in disgust and turns back around. “I hope he has to watch you die.”

Anakin glares at her back. He knows he can’t kill her himself. But there has to be a way to hurt her and her chances and still have plausible deniability.

When it’s her turn for an interview, she’s vapid and pretty. She laughs and touches the interviewer’s arm.

“I’ve never spent much time in District Four,” the interviewer says jovially. “But tell me, really. Is everyone there as beautiful as the people you keep sending us? I mean. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ladies and gentlemen, am I right?” The audience laughs and hollers. Anakin hates them all. “And now you, Robin, and Anakin Skywalker. Damn!”

Robin--Anakin needs to stop forgetting her name--giggles high in her throat. “It was a very, very enjoyable train ride up,” she says with a stupid wiggle of her eyebrows. “Just this side of too long.”

The audience loses it.

Anakin loses it.

He can’t believe she’s sitting there publicly suggesting that Anakin shares Obi-Wan with anyone. With her. The nerve.

The camera pans to Obi-Wan in the crowd, who looks shocked, embarrassed, and deeply troubled.

Anakin won’t let this stand. He just hopes Obi-Wan forgives him.

The interviewer greets him excitedly when he walks out, and Anakin gives him a sheepish sort of smile.

“Lady killer Skywalker!” the interviewer says. Anakin laughs along with him. “All the girls back home must have been heartbroken to see you leave.”

“But I’ve heard they love watching me go,” he jokes with a charming smile. If that girl--Robin--can do it, he can do it much better. “There’s really only one person for me though,” he murmurs, letting his smile die.

“Oh?” The interviewer asks, leaning forward with interest.

“But sometimes I wonder if they’re only using me for my body,” he says, casting his eyes down. “I love them. Heart and soul, everything I am. But when I told them, they just laughed.”

This is technically true. The first time Anakin had told Obi-Wan that he was in love with him, the older boy had laughed his confession off, saying he was too young to know what he wanted.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” the interviewer sighs theatrically. “So your plan is to win the Games and then win her heart when you get back home?”

Anakin makes himself look sad. Tragically sad. Like he can’t bear to go on.

“They came with me,” he says.

If the audience’s reaction to Robin’s fake confession was huge, its reaction to Anakin’s words is even bigger. Of course they think he’s talking about the girl. That’s exactly what Anakin had wanted. Now he’s the broken-hearted boy and she’s the vapid, self-absorbed bitch. She'll have a hard time finding sponsors now.

It’s very, very hard to hide his smile, a task made exponentially more hard when he sees Obi-Wan bury his face in his hands.

“It’s alright,” Anakin tells the interviewer, without taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan. “I’ll survive.”

[misselko]

Got this idea from Dimitri’s conversation with Byleth before Fort Merceus battle with the Death Knight. Put some angst, fluff, and a pinch of smut spices into the dish and let it simmer down! At least, that’s what I want! But it turned out... different ;) Sorry not sorry

This one took me some days to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to give me some advice and ideas for my next fic! Your warm comments will be cherished very much 💕 Thankies!!

 

RECKLESS

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence, smut

Words: 3316

 

POST TIMESKIP

Empire will be the only remaining enemy and to move on to the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, capturing Fort Merceus is a must. Praised as the strongest defense with its fortified military installation  in the Empire, seizing it won’t be an easy feat.

Liberating Arianrhod, calming down Holy Kingdom of Faerghus political issues, winning over the Leicester Alliance and gained their support. Getting a lead on Lady Rhea’s location. Although things were a rough go, but thinking back on it now, Blue Lions sure has really come a long way. Things have been wonderful in these past moons that it almost feels like dream too good to be true.

You don’t know why but you can’t shake your uneasy feelings and dread. War is raging and everyone knows there is a big battle on the horizon.

“We must not falter in our assault. The Death Knight is the enemy commander in Fort Merceus. He’s an unpredictable opponent. A dangerous one. Please proceed with caution, (Y/N).”

“I will, Dimitri. No need to worry.”

“I have not come this far just to lose you here. I’m serious. Do not be reckless out there.”

“Will you save me if I’m in trouble?”

“Of course, (Y/N). You were the heart of the Blue Lions, and the same holds true for the Kingdom Army.”

You smiled at his concern and hold his hands gently.

“I will do my best as well to support you, my Dimitri.” His cheeks turned into rosy blush at your words.

 

“Whoaa!! You’re getting pretty chummy, aren’t you, Your Highness? Go get a room!” Sylvain winks and got punched HARD, dragged away by Ingrid. You make mental notes on giving her a delicious roasted meat from that famous new shop in the town later as your gratitude. Serves him right!! ...But you wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. Everything will be alright with them. Blue Lions are your precious family. It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

---

Capturing Fort Merceus is a daunting task. Endless enemies are approaching and relentless. Felix and Sylvain are working together cut through the snipers and mages. Ingrid and Ashe are doing their best to handle the pegasi knights. Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn makes great combo on cutting through enemy reinforcements while providing healing to everyone. Slowly but sure, you and Dimitri managed to push Death Knight on the corner. But it doesn’t make things less difficult for both of you.

 

“You dare stand between me and my pleasure?”

The beginning of it was barely a bellow that grew steadily to a deafening roar, piercing the air and shaking the ground. Areadbhar crack in deafening clash against Death Knight’s Scythe of Sariel. They raised their weapons, waving them overhead.

 

“Yes. I dare stand against you, Death Knight!!”

 

Dimitri decides to face Death Knight head on as you tried your best to keep his back safe from the Imperial soldiers assaults. Keeping a close eye on him... just in case, following from a few meters back, cover his blind spots that way, look out for any potential danger. You could see them coming around, carefully and quietly trying to find their way to Dimitri.

 

Landing sharp blows, you bring the blade down on the head of another mage. Slashing your way through numerous enemies, you start to feel fatigued. Countless enemies lying dead behind. You looked around, among the sea of red and black, a swordmaster is sneaking his way behind Dimitri, ready to ambush him.

 

But you wouldn’t let it happen!

 

You were fully offensive, rapidly swinging your sword down on the swordmaster. You were able to deflect, parry, and block most of his attacks until his foot swept across your ankles, knocking you hard to the floor. The swordmaster stood above you, ready to press his sword into your chest to end your life. Fatigue made it harder for you to evade his deadly stab completely. Sound of a weapon piercing through flesh filled your ears, followed by an intense pain in your side. He pulled it back out with a triumphant smirk on his face. Despite the searing pain, you made it in time to grab your own weapon and thrust it up to his neck, your arms shaking as you tried to counter the weight of his attack. Grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red.

 

You sat up, wincing at the searing, burning hot pain on your side. The stab wound was way too deep. Your hands trembled, desperately attempting to put pressure on the wound as heavy flow of your blood is trickling through your fingers, colors your skin and clothes. The world had turned blurry, and your body felt weak. Ignoring the excruciating pain, you rush forward to help Dimitri. He has won against the Death Knight. But in his brief reverie, the Tempest King failed to notice two opposing snipers are approaching him, expression intent to kill, aiming their arrows at his back.

 

You acted on instinct, rushing forward, sprinting to intervene. To protect him.

‘We have been through so much together and he’d been through hell and back... I want to ease his pain. Knowing he’s safe... I can be at peace.’

You thought to yourself, launching forward. You barely has energy to stand up, but you tried to muster your last remaining strength to dove in before Dimitri. The arrows managed to easily make it’s way through your armor, landing in your chest and abdomen. ‘I have no regret when it came to protecting Dimitri.’

 

Your body slammed hard on the ground, careening across the battlefield. A sharp cry pained noise escaped you; that was all it took. Dimitri stiffened at the sound. It pulled him from the high of the battlefield down to reality in an instant.

 

“(Y/N)!!!”

 

He turned; filled with horror and rage. The fires blazing around him didn’t give off any heat. The battlefield around him turned black and white. His ears were ringing as if he’d been caught in an explosion. Dimitri went after the snipers and thrust them both at their hearts. After a quick glance to make sure no more surprise attacks happen, he kneels and pulling you into his chest. You looked so small, felt so limp that it sickened him. Broken and battered with littered scars and large wound on your side. Arrows jutting out of your chest, much too close to the heart, and another one lodged deep in your abdomen.

 

Dimitri watched as the blood pooled around you. Blood... there is so much blood. Your blood.

“Goddess... what were you- MERCEDES! FLAYN!! SOMEONE...HELP!!”

 

He pulled himself up, beside you, staring at your face. You were so pale. Oh, Goddess, you were dying. Were you already dead?

“I’m sorry.” There isn’t a reason to apologize, you aren’t sorry, but it still came out like the blood that is on Dimitri’s hands now.

 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” his voice choked off in his throat feels raw with emotions, barely able to hold back the sob which demands to escape, “not when you are like this. What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You have promised me to not be reckless.” He phrased it in a question, but both know why.

 

“Y-You... haven’t seen the... swordmaster... and those snipers. Y-You...were going to die...if they attack you. I want to protect you.... and I don’t regret my decision.“

 

You opened your mouth to speak but immediately coughed, feeling globs of blood on the corners of your lips. Dimitri gripped your hand, his hold so tight that it hurt, but you wouldn’t waste your breath on telling him. You could barely see Mercedes scurried over to your side as quickly as she could, Flayn follows behind her, leaving the Death Knight behind with tears running down her cheeks.

 

“Please stay awake for me a little longer, please.”

He choked out, pulling you closer if possible as it would keep you from leaving.

 

The chaos around you went mute as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe a quick nap would suffice.

 

“No...no, no, (Y/N)!! You can’t do this to me, you can’t-! Please, (Y/N), I can’t lose you too.....”

 

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. You fell asleep.

---

Every second was filled with anxiety; you’d lost so much blood. The wounds were too deep to heal completely. There was little to no possibility of survival. Not after what you’d been through.

The days turned to one week, then two...then three. The physical wounds had healed, mostly repaired and faded to scars. There was potential for things to return to normal, and you may wake up sooner rather than later.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your upper body covered in bandages. The first thing you’re aware of is a dull throb radiating throughout your entire body. You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your body and sending a wave of pain through your chest and stomach as you tried to get up. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before. With much struggle, you sat on the edge of the bed shakily trying to stand up. The door creaked open and you looked up to find Dimitri peering inside.

 

”You’re awake,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. You tried to stand up and walk to him but failed, Dimitri ran in and caught you before you fell over. “I thought I was going to lose you, (Y/N),” he said, lifting you up effortlessly, settling you gently onto the bed and pulled up a chair. 

 

As cautiously as you could, you managed to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the young king, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

 

“You nearly died because of me. I have no right to be... you of all people shouldn’t-!” He managed to say, his voice shaking as his fingers trembled.

His head shot up to look at you, cerulean blue eyes dampened by tears that pooled in them. Your eyes were open, though weakly, looking at him and his disturbed state. You sensed his worry, but also his relief as he hovers next to your bed, engulfing you in his embrace and squeezing you against his chest for all he was worth. He was mindful of your wound, but that wasn’t enough to keep him away. No, he needed you. He needed to be beside you, to feel you, to know you were there.

 

“I’m okay, Dimitri...” You whispered, resting a hand on his chest where his heart thundered. You closed your eyes against him, relishing the feel of his tender warmth.

 

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening. Your arms wrapped around his heaving back weakly, rubbing it soothingly. He pulled you closer in response—closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

 

"I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, holding your hands so tight that it hurts.

“But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

 

His voice was as quiet as it could be and it made you frown your eyebrows in worry. You were happy to see him alive, that was your goal when you decided to protect him from the approaching enemies. However, seeing him so distraught and afraid twisted your insides uncomfortably. The way he held your hand so desperately, afraid to let go.

 

“Dimitri.” You call him quietly, which makes him look at you with those gorgeous eyes of him.

 

You move your hand to his cheeks, caressing his soft skin, trying to bring him even the tiniest amount of comfort. Leaning to give him a soft chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocated by open-mouthed kiss you with such fervor. There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way Dimitri kisses you, as if this is the last moment he’ll ever feel it. It’s almost as if it pains him to be this close to you. You were alive, yet he couldn’t help but doubt it. Perhaps it was once again due to the vicious noises he still heard, though faintly. However, he was glad that they allowed him this moment of happiness.

 

“I won’t leave you, Dimitri.” You promised between ragged breath, your chest heaving.

 

“We are so close to ending this. Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. Rest, for now, my beloved.” Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding your hand to his chest. “I promise, I will never let you be hurt for my sake again.” Covering you with a  blanket  and tucking you into bed to retire for the evening.

---

After your awakening, the Blue Lions and Professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts (flowers and snacks), always encourage you to get better soon. But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved gentle king.

It was two weeks since you have gotten better. Mercedes promised to take care after your bandages this evening.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?”

You met Mercedes’ warm gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mercedes.”

 

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your breasts to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Mercedes sighed, slowly traced the scars your chest and stomach.

“I’m sorry but we will never be able to remove the scars. The wounds all healed, but... the scars will never go away completely. I’m sorry (Y/N).”

 

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“It’s okay. I will never regret such a thing.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Do you need anything else, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m all good, Mercedes! Thank you for your help.”

“All right, then. Annette said that she needs my help with her baking this evening. We have to finish it before midnight! Should you need anything, please feel free to call me.” Mercedes gave you last smile before excusing herself politely from your quarter.

 

“Dimitri.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. Refusing to look at your scar, a harsh reminder of his failure.

“Look at me.”

He stilled and won’t budge to look at you.

 

“I will never regret nor blame you for this. It was my decision and if it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Or... perhaps.... I can understand if you find that my... scars are disgusting, appalling, even....” you whisper softly, almost inaudible. Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into your bed.

“DON’T SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!!” He growled “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me. If.. If something ever happen to you.. I’ll live a life worse than death itself, (Y/N).”

 

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. His mouth moved awkwardly yet full of affection. Hands planted  on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravishing kisses. Dimitri pressed his lips further into yours, swallowing your moans. His lips left yours to trail down around your neck, breasts, and stomach lovingly. “This wounds... I cannot lose you again, my beloved.” His body quivered.  The King kissing the scars on your cleavage and abdomen, worshiping them reverently with tender touches, almost like touching a porcelain doll. Afraid to break you with his almost inhuman power. Biting and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites, leaving you a panting mess.

 

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling whispers of ‘I’m sorry’. Bittersweet smile formed on his lips. He gazed at you, eyes lidded with desires and need, mixed with guilt and love. “(Y/N)... My beloved...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled.

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into.

“I love you, Dimitri.”

 

He blushed at your words, then it dawned on his realization. Suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “Um, w-well...” As he came to his full senses he released his hands from you, as though from fire and stuttered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the dreamlike stupor a d hazy feeling to distract you, you realized just how naked you are. Nightgown pooled beneath your waist. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

 

He flinched, breaking eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah—Urghh!!! I’m sorry, (Y/N)!! I don’t know what came over me but.. but... P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...” The King unclasped his furred cloak hurriedly and put it over your naked body unceremoniously, hiding his flushed crimson face in his hands again, absolutely brutalized with shame. 

 

“Er.. Be certain to rest for now. We may have undone some of your healing.” Then he said hurriedly, almost inaudibly. “When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

 

“Fine...” You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, Dimitri.”

You pulled his hand to your lips and give each of his fingers soft kisses, gazing at him lovingly. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the poor king desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

 

“Good night, my beloved (Y/N).” Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, the Blue Lions Leader left with a haste that was probably unbecoming of a gentleman, his long legs taking the steps to the second floor dormitory two at a time. He somehow,  somehow  managed to reach his room without incident or interruption, locking his door behind him, leaning back against it and covering his burning red face with his hands. His body felt like it was on fire; nerve endings alight with sensations he had long believed were dead.

 

The pit of his stomach tangled in knots when he thought of (Y/N). All he could think about was your pure unadultered love, beautiful (E/C) that is gazing at him affectionately. Goddess, he was such a sinner. It made him want to put his hands on you. All over you. Repeatedly. Savoring the taste of your lips as you moan into his mouth. Feeling your warmth and love. Unclothed. His mind is running wild. This frantic sensation in his blood, while half-forgotten, was not new. It will be another sleepless night for the poor king. And it’s all because of you.

[t00turnttrauma]

world burn 2- jmk

Warning: There is some slander in here. I promise that I love the band equally and I would never, ever support an article like this. I feel like this goes without saying, but I don’t want it to be take out of context. Also, a lot of the insults were taken from my friends and things that we’ve insulted each other with.

To say Josh was fuming was an understatement. After failing to convince him to stay away from your work, he demanded to see it. His heart ached when he got to your honest opinion of him. Tears formed in his eyes as he scanned the insults and honest opinions. Over the years, he learned how to deal with unhinged comments and unnecessary hate. He also knew the difference between criticism and anything else. He could feel hot tears running down his face as he looked away, trying to figure out why.

Sam was the last to read finish reading it. He was also inappropriately amused with the slander. “Listen to this,” Sam laughed, beginning to read the article out loud.  

As for sex with Josh. Ha! I promise that you will find something more satisfying written by a 15-year-old fan girl on the internet. Ladies, don’t get your hopes up. He may be a rockstar on stage, but the sparks end when the curtain falls.

Jake snatched the phone from his younger brother’s hands. “You’re supposed to be helping, not reading him the fucking paper.”

The three of them waited for Josh to make sound. He’d been sitting there, quietly crying to himself. They’d never seen him like this before. Jake placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back down.

“I’m going over there,” Josh said.

“Not right now,” said Danny. “Please. Just cool off for a minute and we’ll talk to her together later.”

Josh ignored his friend. He loudly pushed the door to the studio opening. Once he made it to your apartment, he had no idea what to do or say. He stood in the lobby for a minute before pressing the button beside your apartment number. The elevator opened, signaling that there was someone waiting for him.

Damon opened the door for him, looking a little confused. “I thought you were my delivery.”

“Is Y/N here?” Josh looked for your purse or keys.

“She went to see her mom. I can leave a message.” Damon shut the door. “You look… like you’re going through something. Are you okay?”

Josh scoffed; a light chuckle thrown in. “She posted an article about me and she’s not answering her phone.”

You were still reeling at the loss of your mother. You always knew it was coming, but it did little to soften the blow.

The disease had begun years ago, slowly eating away at the woman who cared and loved you all your life. Even though you desperately wanted to return the favor when she was confined to her bed, all you could do was love her. Financially, you could take care of her, but there was no room. There was no way that Damon could leave, he had it too good with you and it was unfair to kick him out. She also refused to live in a dining room, taking up communal space. As a compromise, she moved into the care home the next town over, right in between both of your homes. You visited as often as you could, usually weekly.

Picking up everything after the funeral was worse than anything you’d ever encountered.

As if nothing happened, the facility already had someone else settled in her room. The box of personal items your mother kept with her were set outside the door like garbage. Everything that she was, all her memories, was watered down into seven scrapbooks and a box of trinkets she collected from her travels. Almost everything from your childhood home was gone, sold to strangers on the internet, given to friends, or put into donation bins. This was all she carried, and now you had them.

The train ride was the second worst part of your week. Your brain ran through memories of fun times with her. Then you thought about all of the bed fights and arguments you’d had with her. The nasty things you’d said as a rebellious teen echoed in your mind. At the time, it was easy to ignore the flash of pain on her face, but now that’s all you could see.

You were the only person in your area. Even with no one around, it felt weird to cry in public. That’s not to say that a few tears didn’t drop when you thought of an especially painful memory. Your wish to see Josh when you got home was answered. The backpack on your back was getting heavy and the box was beginning to dig painfully into your fingers. It was only a little bit of a walk from the parking garage to your apartment, but either way you were still a little numb emotionally.

The car door slam brought you out of your funk for a moment, checking for danger. Instead, you only saw the one face that could bring you comfort. Opening your mouth to greet him, hoping to hide the sadness in your voice, you stopped. Josh kept coming forward, halting to a stop when he was at the edge of the sidewalk. You could barely catch what he was saying, his chest heaving and hands flailing.

“I cannot believe that you would say those things. And why me specifically?” He huffed and rolled his eyes. Your mouth moved but a sound didn’t come out. “We’re over, Y/N. That is if we even started,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother calling me. Business or personal phone.”

You wiped away the tears, refusing to cry in front of Damon. You silently entered the elevator and rode up to the correct floor. Before the key could even touch the lock, the door swung open.

“How are you feeling?” Damon asked, taking the box from your hands. You kicked your shoes off, shrugging.

“Gutted. Awful. Guilty.”

He frowned, setting the box on the floor with a thud. The contents rattled against one another, making the hairs on your neck stand up. Instead of being able to make sure nothing was broken, he placed a hand on the small of your back. He led you to the dining room. On either end of the table were two plates fixed. The boxes from the restaurant were on the counter. Candles surrounded a vase of flowers.

“Not tonight.” You whispered. It wasn’t meant to be such a weak whisper, it just happened to come out like that. The more thought you put into it, you couldn’t discern if it was the lack of happiness and being in the mood for dealing with a semi-romantic dinner or if it was the lack of interest in Damon. He must have been wondering too because he took your hands into his, blocking your view of the table.

“Y/N, I’m here for you. And where is Josh?” Your mouth went dry. He smirked for a split second before the frown reappeared. “All he did was yell at you for going away.”

“Did you hear all of it?”

“Baby, the whole neighborhood heard.”

“I told him that he was no good for you.” Damon let out a chuckle, “I mean, really. What kind of guy goes after a girl who is living with another man who she’s known for years?”

You furrowed your brows, retracting your hands from his. “You do realize that I don’t have feelings for you. Right?”

He wrinkled his nose. “We’re living together. A man and a woman. Don’t you realize what the neighbors think?”

You scoffed. “Are you serious?”

Damon nodded. “C’mon Y/N. It’s time for you to notice that we’re made for each other.”

Refusing to go through this tonight of all nights, you picked up the box of things and went to the only place you could think of. You paused when you made it to your car and realized that you really had no idea where to go. Your apartment was overrun by some entitled douchebag. Josh hates your guts. You barely had any friends in the city and your mother was gone. With your wallet and purse still upstairs, there were very little options.

You drove around for a while, trying to think of where Danny lived. You’d only been to his house a handful of times when Josh drove. Finding the familiar chiropractor’s office, you followed the general directions you remembered until you spotted his car in a driveway. Sam’s car was parked in the street. You parked behind him, going straight to the front door and knocking.

Danny opened the door with a smile that disappeared as soon as he saw you. Sam paused, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

“You have a lot of nerve to show up here,” Sam spat, taking his coat from the back of the chair. He pushed past you roughly, rolling his eyes when you looked back at him.

Danny crossed his arms, a look of anger on his face. “Can I help you?”

“What did I do wrong?”

He laughed. “Are you serious? You posted that article on your blog yesterday and everyone has seen it. Management is going crazy. We’re all on the hook for it, Y/N! We could lose everything because of this.”

He tried to close the door in your face, but you placed your foot in the way, keeping it open. He opened it again, staring down at you. You tried to push it open, but he copied your trick, his entire leg behind the door and keeping it from fully opening.

“Can I just come in?” You asked.

He rolled his eyes, opening the door. You walked in and stood by his couch, feeling weird about sitting down.

“I sent the article into the publishers,” you said, trying to defend yourself. “Then I got the call about my mom. They said that they would hold it until- Did you say on my blog?” You tried to figure it out. The blog was personal. The article would never be posted on there unless there was something else going on.

“Yes.”

He handed you a stack of papers, the printed version of the blog post. There it was your article in all its glory, your pen name at the top. The introduction of the band, history, yadda yadda yadda. Then came the members themselves. Danny, then Sam, Jake, and finally Josh. But all of it was wrong. The final section was nothing but insults and lies.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you scoffed. “The only place that has my blog logged in is my personal laptop.”

Danny shook his head. “So what?”

“I haven’t touched my laptop since I left.”

“Where did you even go, Y/N?” He asked, rounding on you now. Even though he was the biggest sweetheart, right now his stare down did nothing but make you want to cry again. “Because it looks like you posted the article and skipped town. Then, miraculously, you have this big change of heart and come back to make amends.”

You spent all night explaining your whereabouts for the past week. You even went as far as showing him your bank statements, the purchases you’d made while you attended your mother. His head reeling, Danny excused himself. He came back for a moment, giving you a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and a pillow and blankets.

Sam immediately went straight to Josh’s house. Jake was there, trying to comfort his twin. Josh was the crier out of his siblings, but at this moment, he hadn’t said a word in hours.

“She showed up at Danny’s house,” Sam said, slamming the door shut.

He was also angry. After getting over the initial amusement, Sam realized the severity of the situation. He’d been monitoring the attention on the article. Thankfully it was relatively low, but it was only a matter of time before it blew up. They were never going to hear the end of it.

“I don’t care,” Josh grumbled.

“How can you not care, Joshua!” Sam snapped. “Stuff like this is illegal!”

Josh only stood up. “I said what I needed to say to her and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just go home, guys.” Jake tried to protest but Josh only barked at him again, “go home!”

The two younger brothers left in confusion. Their brother was adamant about talking things out, but now he was bottling it in. Jake’s phone buzzed with a phone call from Danny.

“Hello?”

“She didn’t post it,” Danny said.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Then who did it? Casper?”

“She was out of town at her mom’s funeral and her laptop was at home. She also swears that she never wrote those words down.”

Jake thought about it. Sam took the phone, asking Danny for more details. Jake had spent the few days that you were missing reading your blog. It made sense. You had a specific writing style that had not translated to the article. Once in his car, he looked at the article again. The pieces that talked highly of him, Sam, and Danny were written in one style, one that reminded him of you. When it came to Josh’s bit, it was much different. He called Danny back again.

“Bring Y/N to Branigan’s Diner in the morning.”

[arrowflier]

Prompt: Mickey apologizes to one of their neighbours for something that clearly wasn't his fault just to make Ian(who's in his people pleaser mode) happy. Later, Ian realises how Mickey was right all along and feels bad about the whole thing and they talk. Basically them having a mature convo at the end

Ian heard the shouting as soon as he stepped out into the courtyard. Mickey had come down earlier to take a quick dip, and Ian was hoping to join him and relax together for a while.

But based on the way his husband and one of their neighbors were yelling right then, that clearly wasn't in the cards.

Ian sighed, and closed his eyes briefly. Was it really too much to ask that Mickey get along with the people in their building? He didn't even have to make friends, he just had to not be an asshole to everyone he met.

A particularly loud shout--something about children, and language, and have some common decency--forced Ian out of his reflections and toward the apparent catastrophe that was Mickey in public.

“Dammit, Mickey,” he muttered under his breath as he rounded the last corner and brought the pool into view.

Sure enough, Mickey was there.  He stood at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, like he had just hoisted himself out, water droplets still lingering on his sculpted arms and chest.  His arms were raised and held out to the side in challenge as he blustered on about public space, and freedom of speech, and I’ll do you one worse lady, just you watch just inches away from a middle-aged woman that looked like she had stepped out of a lululemon ad.

Ian was pretty sure it was the same woman who had stopped him at the elevators last week to ask him to “keep it down up there”.  They really didn’t need to cause more trouble with her; Mickey had them on thin ice already when his response to Ian relaying that request was to play loud, bass-thumping music while riding Ian into the floor for effect.

She hadn't met his eyes since.

"What's going on here?" Ian interrupted, coming up behind Mickey and settling a hand on the back of his husband's neck.

"This lady was tryin to--" Mickey cut off when Ian squeezed and released that hand in warning. Mickey glowered at him, but shut his mouth.

"Your husband," the woman said with a glare at Mickey, "was setting a bad example for my nephew."

Looking around for the aforementioned child, Ian sighed when he saw a little boy staring at them all from a pool lounger with wide eyes.

"We're sorry, Mrs...," he trailed off, but she didn't bother to fill in the blank for him, instead just raising her eyebrows and tapping her sandaled foot expectantly.

"Uh, anyway, it won't happen again," Ian finished awkwardly. "Right, Mick?"

"Are you kidding me, Gallagher?" Mickey asked, incredulous.

"I expect a direct apology from your husband," the woman demanded at the same time.

Ian raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and gave Mickey a little shake when the other man didn't speak up.

"Come on, Mick, just do it," Ian muttered.

After a tense moment, Mickey did.

"Fucking fine," he hissed at Ian, ignoring their neighbor's sharp intake of breath at the curse. "I'm fucking sorry, alright?," he directed at her, before pulling out of Ian's hold to face him.

"You happy now?" he asked, before turning and stomping off to go inside.

The effect was dampened by the soft slapping sound of his bare feet hitting the pavement, leaving behind wet marks on the concrete. Ian and the woman watched him go with drastically different expressions: one with disgust, and one with concern.

"I do hope you'll keep your man in line better in the future," the woman groused at Ian, but he wasn't really listening.

"Yeah, sure," he answered absently. "Excuse me, I just gotta..."

And then he was scooping up the towel and shoes Mickey had left behind, and hurrying after his husband.

---

"Mickey?" Ian called out hesitantly as he entered their apartment. Other than a couple of damp patches on the floor, there was no sign of Mickey anywhere.

Then Ian heard the shower start, and set Mickey's things down next the door to follow the sound.

Mickey's wet trunks were pooled on the cold tile floor, the shower curtain pulled tight from wall to wall. The splash of water bouncing from flesh to the acrylic tub echoed through the room.

"Mickey?" Ian asked softly, taking a step past the open door. "Mick, you in here?"

He heard a snort over the sound of the water, the curtain moving as Mickey's arm jostled it from inside.

"No, it's your other husband, Sherlock," Mickey answered, an odd tone in his voice. "You know, the one you listen to before you take some random bitch's side."

Ian winced. Okay, Mickey was mad, then.

Moving further into the room, Ian closed the lid of the toilet and turned to sit on it, elbows on knees.

"Sorry," he offered briefly. "But she had a point Mick, there are kids here--"

The water stopped abruptly, and the curtain pulled back to reveal Mickey’s face.  His hair flopped wetly over his forehead, water still sluicing down the middle of his face, and he scowled as he brushed it away with the back of a dripping hand.

“Kid, huh?” he questioned  “So I need to go get my fucking tattoos removed because some random kid might see ‘em?”

Ian blinked.

“Wait,” he said slowly, mind trying to figure out what he was missing.  “What?” then scoffed when Ian just watched him.

Mickey just scoffed.  

“You don’t even know what she was yellin’ about, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t say a damn word to her or that sniveling brat she brought with her,” he revealed.  “They took one fucking look at me, saw the words on my knuckles, and off she went on her little fucking tirade.”

“Shit, Mickey,” Ian started, but Mickey wasn’t done.

“Don’t you act like it matters,” he growled.  “You care more about playing nice than payin’ attention, and don’t pretend that after all these years you don’t still assume I’m always the fuckin’ problem.”

Fuck.  Ian had really screwed this one up.

“Mickey,” he repeated, more firmly, standing and stepping closer to the shower.  Ian took the shower curtain in one hand and tugged it further to the side.  Mickey shivered in the influx of cool air, looking more like a disgruntled cat mid-bath than an angry man.

“Mickey,” Ian said again, softer, and stepped over the lip of the tub so that nothing was between them.  He took Mickey into his arms, his husband putting up a token resistance before settling against him with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered into his wet hair, ignoring the patches of water soaking through his clothes.  “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mickey hummed into his chest, not looking up.  “You kind of did, though,” he mutters.  “Every time somebody’s got a problem with me, you act like it’s my fault.”

Silence, for just a moment.

“Yeah,” Ian finally agreed, stroking a hand down Mickey’s bare back.  “Yeah, I need to work on that.”

He pulled back, made Mickey meet his eyes.  Mickey was no longer glaring, and his eyes were dry, but there was still something off about the way he met Ian’s gaze.

“You know I don’t really think that, though, right?” Ian asked, disheartened when Mickey didn’t offer a response.

“I don’t, Mickey,” he said earnestly.  “I love you, and you’ve been trying so hard--”

“Shouldn’t fuckin’ have to try,” Mickey murmured, and oh.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Ian rephrased.  “And I’m sorry I’m always making you feel like you do, too.”

Mickey moved back farther, and Ian’s arms dropped loosely back to his sides.  His fingers itched to reach out again, but he got the feeling Mickey needed some space.

“Okay,” Mickey said.  “Get outa here so I can finish.”

Ina obeyed, stepping out of the tub and moving toward the door, but he turned back before he left the room.

“When you’re done, come into the bedroom, alright?” he asked quietly.  “I’ve got an idea to get back at that asshole woman.”

“Apology or not,” Mickey said wryly, “I don’t think I’m on the mood to fuck you right now, Ian.”

Ian just smirked. 

“Not what I had in mind,” he said.  “Now hurry it up, I think you’re gonna like my plan.”

---

About twenty minutes later, after the shower had started and stopped again and Mickey had had a moment to gather himself and get dressed, Mickey walked into the bedroom and stopped still.

Ian was sitting on their bed, fully dressed, but that wasn’t what had Mickey startled.  No, it was the fact that right in front of him was a huge stereo with old school speakers, the ones that used to be downstairs in the communal lounge area, with Ian’s phone sitting right on top.

“What’s all this?” Mickey asked, and Ian grinned.

“So she doesn’t like profanity, huh?” he said.  “Well I found a favorite new song.”

Mickey started to grin himself as he caught on to the plan.  Ian stood and pushed one of the speakers a little closer to the vents in their floor, angling it so the sound would bounce right down into the apartment below.  Then he tapped a few things on his phone, cranked the volume, and let harsh base and more expletives than Mickey had ever heard in a piece of music fill the room.

Mickey laughed.  Ian held out a hand, like he was asking for a dance, and turned the music up even louder.

Shaking his head at his husband’s antics, Mickey took the proffered hand, and let Ian spin him to the sound of their bitchy neighbor losing her mind below them.

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 2)

Warning - smut (eventually....)

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You were finishing up your coffee, grateful that Cillian didn't hang around after grabbing his. Suddenly you heard Anto shouting in the yard outside. You told Liane you'd find her later, and headed out to him. He was pacing the grounds on his phone, the anger evident in his face. With an abrupt "Fuck you!" down the line, he hung up, kicking a rock across the courtyard in frustration.

"Anto? What's wrong?" You approached nervously.

"We start filming in three hours, and one of the cast had dropped out!!"

"What? Who?"

"Rachel Foster. She was supposed to play Tommy Shelby's girl."

"Oh shit.."

"Oh shit in-fucking-deed. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?! I can't call someone in at this short notice!"

"I don't know anyone who's even available.." he suddenly looked at you, you squirmed a little, you recognised that look.

"You know, it's not too late to reconsider my offer y/n."

"Anto we talked about this, I'm not an actress."

"But you used to be! And you were the best I knew!"

"When you offered me a role in this I was flattered beyond belief, I truly was, but my role is as a professor now, not an actress. I gave that all up nearly a decade ago!"

"Think about it - you're here anyway! She was only meant to film this week, it's a few scenes with Tommy, nothing major.. she's not even lasting the whole series it's just a few scenes I swear it. At least let me do a casting call with you? I'll pay you for your time, even if you don't want to do it? It's win-win! I'm desperate here y/n..."

You thought about it. You enjoyed the theatre shows you used to be involved in years ago so much, but then you were offered the job at Birmingham University and it was too good an opportunity to miss - a steady wage, guaranteed income.. the thought of going back to being a struggling actress made you very nervous.

"One casting call. If it doesn't work, I'm out and you'll have to find someone else Anto."

"Oh you fucking legend... You BEAUTIFUL legend!!!" He scooped you up and spun you round in a circle, before dragging you over to costume and makeup.

An hour later, you were in costume, hair done, makeup on, ready for the camera. You stood in the set for the Garrison, Anto giving you the once over for the short scene he'd got planned for the casting call.

"Anto you didn't say anything about kissing Tommy!" You groaned, reading the paper he handed you.

"It's one kiss - we need to make sure you have chemistry. You know these scenes are always filmed first y/n."

"You fucking owe me Byrne." He grinned his cheesiest grin yet, allowing you time to get to know your lines and the scene. You were lost in it, focussing on getting yourself into a character for the first time in years.

"Y/n?" An Irish brogue suddenly dragged you out of your prep, and you nearly dropped the whiskey glass you were holding as you were practising a scene.

"Holy fuck..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you - " he held out his hand, chuckling at your outburst. "I'm Cillian. I'll be playing Thomas Shelby."

"I, uh, I know who you are, I'm Y/n..."

"I know, Anto tells me you're Rachel's replacement? Really appreciate you stepping in like this, I know it's all a bit weird. Just take your time, okay? There's no rush, and no pressure to get it perfect, just relax. I know how intense these things can be."

"Thank you. I'm sorry if I'm shit..." You laughed, your stomach in knots.

"You won't be! You wanna stop at any point, tell me. No pressure, remember that. I'm looking forward to it."

"To what? Me throwing a whiskey glass at you?"

"No, not that bit," he smiled, his blue eyes glittering in the stage lights behind you.

"Right then you two, are you ready?" Anto called, and you pulled yourself together. Taking a deep breath, the scene began.

"You promised me Thomas. You said you were going legit!! Now I find out you have guns hidden away from the fucking IRA??"

"Clara, you have to trust me! I AM going legit but I need money behind me to do it - this is our way out of here!"

"You're a fucking liar Shelby. Four years I waited for you. Four fucking years you wrote to me promising me a life of safety, no more having to watch our backs, no more Peaky fucking Blinders, and you lied through your fucking teeth!" You threw the glass, missing his face by a mere inch.

He ducked, and approached you carefully, hands out to catch your arms as they flailed around. A sudden flick of your wrist in the wrong direction caught him off guard and you hit him. Full force on the side of his cheek.

"Oh fuck!! Shit I'm so sorry!!"

"Quite the left hook you've got there!!" He laughed, regaining his composure, rubbing his face. A decent shade of red now blossoming across his cheek. Anto was in stitches the other side of the camera and you shot him a glare.

"I can't believe you've just smacked the star of the fucking show!" He laughed.

"You're certainly feisty enough for Clara's character, I'll give you that!" Cillian smirked. You were mortified.

"I really am sorry..."

"No harm done, I'm fine. I've had worse. Come on, let's finish this yeah?" You were convinced you'd screwed it up, but Anto calling Action brought you back into the scene.

Cillian cleared his throat and approached you again, you could see him trying not to laugh though and you couldn't help but giggle a little, which set him off too.

"I'm sorry, really I am!" You panicked.

"That was my fault, I was too busy watching her arms!" Cillian smiled.

"Guys I really like what I'm seeing here. There's definitely chemistry on screen. Why don't you two go rehearse a little more together and come back in 30 minutes?" Cillian nodded and turned to you.

"Fancy a coffee?" He asked. You nodded and he led you over to the trailers behind the set.

"Are we not going to the cafeteria?"

"Not unless you want to rehearse in front of your Uni class?" He smirked. You shook your head and followed him into a decent sized trailer at the back. He flicked the kettle on, telling you to take a seat while he made the coffee.

"So why did you give up the theatre? You're clearly very good, else Anto wouldn't have requested you?"

"It wasn't going anywhere. I was in the West End, Broadway, Galway.. just seemed to be bouncing around with no real direction. I wanted to get into film or TV work but the roles were in high demand. And it became very clear very quickly that I wasn't the right kind of actress the movie makers wanted as a leading lady."

"Really? Why?"

"I wasn't prepared to get my tits out at every audition like the others I guess?" You shrugged. "I auditioned for a horror movie once in Hollywood. Some big budget thing that never ended up happening anyway, but the director wanted me to audition in this skimpy little dress - barely covered my ass never mind my thighs. Wouldn't audition me unless I wore it, so I threw it at him and walked out. Kinda blacklisted from then on."

"That's horrendous? Which director?"

"Cant even remember his name now it was so long ago. It doesn't matter anyway, the movie was scrapped before production and I landed the job at the university. Secure, stable, good money - couldn't ask for more really. And the kids are so great, Cillian, full of passion and enthusiasm! They're so inspiring they really are!"

"I'm meeting some of them later, I'm looking forward to it. My youngest wants to get into the industry. Been trying to put him off for years but he's such a little showman. Exactly like I was at his age."

"Is that Jack?" You asked.

"Yeah. His mam is keen on him getting into it but she hated me going off for months on end filming. One of the reasons she divorced me last year."

"I heard about that. I'm sorry.."

"No don't be! We get on better now than we ever have. Only stayed together for the kids you know? Milk and sugar?" You nodded, and he handed you the cup.

"This scene is awkward, I've never done a scene like this before," you confessed, taking a sip.

"Like what?"

"A kiss? How do you kiss someone without actually kissing them?"

"You just do it, I guess. Once you're in character it just happens. I won't use tongues I promise - nothing personal, it's just one of my rules."

"That makes it less awkward I suppose!"

"Exactly. Although didn't stop Scarlett Johansson that one time... Nearly got me shot by the wife that one did!" You remembered that scene in Girl with a Pearl Earring and laughed.

"You know, I've learned over the years that if you do those scenes first it makes all the others much easier," he said, putting his coffee down and taking yours from you, placing it on the table next to his. He took your hands and stood you up in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"What?"

"Not like that, I'm going to 'movie-kiss' you. Show you how it's done. Trust me - you won't feel awkward after this."

"I beg to differ..."

"Come on y/n, what have you got to lose?" My senses? You thought. My mind, maybe? You were hesitant, massively hesitant. You weren't even sure you were even going to go through with this. He glanced at his watch.

"We have five minutes, close your eyes and trust me." He nodded at you, and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

His fingers back on your cheek, this was just a reenactment of the scene but those fingers felt like lightening bolts. You could sense him moving closer, and his lips brushing yours. You were almost frozen to the spot until he whispered for you to relax.

"Okay, okay... I'm relaxed.. try again.." he leaned in again, your lips meeting properly. His hand in the back of your hair pulling you a little closer. You fell into it, your hands reaching round his back. As promised, he didn't use his tongue, which felt really strange at first but you quickly got used to it. Your mouths meshed together perfectly as you found your rhythm. A few minutes of this, before he pulled away, another gentle kiss against your lips as he did.

"Wow..." You gasped, opening your eyes. If someone had told you this morning you'd be kissing Cillian Murphy by lunchtime you'd have had them commited to the local loony bin, yet here you were. He didn't speak, and his hand was still on your cheek, brushing it lightly.

"Didn't plan on making you blush so much."

"Didn't plan on kissing Cillian Murphy when I woke up this morning," you laughed.

"Ready to do that again?"

"Again?"

"Just to make sure we got it right, of course."

"Yes.. of course.." he moved in quickly, but it felt different this time. His lips crashed against yours, and you definitely felt his tongue brush your lips a couple of times but you didn't reciprocate. You both moved backwards, your thighs hitting the table behind you, coffee nearly spilling over.

"Fuck, you okay? I'm sorry.." he pulled away to make sure none had spilled on you.

"I'm fine, it didn't fall, I'm fine... I uh, I think we've got the kiss nailed down though..." You brushed your hair out of your face and looked to the floor.

"Yeah, I think you're right.." your eyes met again and you both smiled. Before he could speak though, Anto was at the door knocking.

"Ready for round 2 guys?" He called. Cillian nodded at you, and you nodded back, both of you heading out to try the scene again.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language/brief nudity Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering... could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique "soul mark", which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader is gender neutral, but at some points will be described as leaning towards being feminine (due to personal interpretation of Alcina's character). Additionally, Lady D will eventually be referred to by her first name, so don't worry if you feel weird about her being called by her full title all the time, it's just for this chap, when the reader isn't familiar with her. Lastly, this contains a bit of one sided Alcina/Miranda, which serves as a plot point, but is (clearly) not the primary ship.

1: In The Shadow Of Giants

Three months, two weeks, and one day. That’s how long you’ve been at this accursed castle, serving cruel mistresses, having been plucked from your peaceful life in the village. Anger stains your every thought, slowly festering inside your chest. There is no cure, at least not without a fatal price, but there are mild remedies. ‘Tis not long before the other servants learn to give you the more physically demanding chores. Nothing numbs your mind quite the same way that chopping firewood does, though you often settle for hard scrubbing age-old tile. Every day ends with your muscles crying from the effort of it all. Every day… except today. Another servant, from the night shift, has been wounded severely, and her job was deemed too important to be foregone.

And, as such, she has been replaced. By you. For once, you turn in early, long before your clothes can become stained with sweat. Yet you aren’t happy, not when you know that this change will ruin your sleep for weeks to come. Even worse, it’ll be impossible to avoid your ‘employers’, whereas working the day shift meant almost never seeing them. So far, you have only seen them on four or five occasions. Hell, you’ve only met two of them, being Cassandra and Bela. Based on what others told you, the other two weren’t much (if at all) better. As you try your best to get some rest, only a single ‘positive’ thought runs through your head: Well, worst comes to worst, I’ll get killed, then I won’t have to worry about anything anymore.

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

“Remember: No talking unless you’re asked a question. The Mistress has had a rough morning, and this is her best chance at relaxing,” Juniper explains, for what seems like the eighth time since the two of you met. There’s a nervous energy around her, which does little to ease your own anxieties. If you heard correctly, she’s only been at the castle for a couple weeks, having previously worked for Mother Miranda. You’re not sure what would have caused the transfer, considering most who were ‘fired’ ended up dead. Something told you that it had to do with antsy nature. “Oh, and don’t leave unless dismissed, even once your part is done. We all need to be ready, in case Mistress- I mean, Lady Dimitrescu needs something. Sorry, I’m still getting used to how things work here.”

“As long as you don’t slip up in front of her and get us both killed, I don’t really care,” you replied, giving Juniper a level stare. Clearly unsure how to respond, she pauses for a moment, mouth opening then closing without a sound. Once she’s seemingly composed herself, you give a short nod and push open the door to the bathroom. Two other servants are already inside, and they flinch at your arrival, briefly mistaking you for their boss. “I can hardly believe they made me change shifts for this,” you add, under your breath, rolling your eyes. What was so important about making sure a few candles stayed lit? During bathtime? Maybe it was something you had to be a giant, vampiric noblewoman to understand. Regardless of your annoyance, you quickly get to work, striking the first of a couple matches. It’s a rather dull task. To think you would have preferred heavy labor to this.

Before long, the last flame springs to life, and Juniper dims the lights, allowing the candles to become the focus. At least one is scented, though you cannot place the specific kind. Less than a minute after the last one is lit, the door once again swings open, revealing your most elusive employer. She’s… more than you anticipated. In every conceivable way, truthfully. Taller, more graceful (even as she has to duck through the entrance), and, as much as you hate to think so, far, far more beautiful. If not for the warm lighting of the room, you would have worried about someone seeing your blush. Certainly I am not the first to react this way, you think, as you bow alongside the others.

“Yes, yes, get on with it,” Lady Dimitrescu says, with a sharp frown. Then she moves closer to the tub, which you imagine could fit half a dozen ‘normal’ people, and holds out her arms to her side. For a moment you’re confused, but you instinctively mimic the motions of the other maidens. Together the four of you reach for her robe, gently taking hold of it while she steps into the bath, before hanging it onto a nearby hook. A second later your entire world is turned upside down. You’re freezing in place, eyes wide, as the bare back of Lady Dimitrescu reveals itself to you. Yet this is not an instance of poorly veiled lust. No, it is equal parts horror and repulsion, for you find yourself staring at a distinctive soul marking.

One that matches your own.

Beside you, Juniper watches you with concern, silently urging you to stay silent. Neither of the other two servants seem to react, other than by taking a small step backwards. Unable to speak, let alone form coherent thoughts, all you can do is point a trembling finger towards the soul mark. It’s right in between Lady Dimitrescu’s shoulder blades. Once upon a time, you had marveled at the design, smiling every time you saw it in the mirror. Now, it might as well be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen. Based on her expression, Juniper seems to agree, although for different reasons. As your hand drops back to your side, you try to compose yourself enough to focus on the task before you. Instead, someone breaks the quiet, boldly, daring to think that they would be rewarded for it.

“My Lady,” a servant says, stepping forward, shooting you a waywards glance. Instantly she has your employer’s attention, though that comes with the metallic sssssslk of her claws extending. There’s an unspoken threat that demands respect. None comes, however, just the frenzied words of a panicked maiden. “I know who your soulmate is, my Lady. I thought that perhaps you’d-”

“A name. Give me… a name,” Lady Dimitrescu interjects, claws still out and impatiently tapping on the tile floor. Tense, you start to step forward, wanting desperately to silence the treacherous maiden. But her tongue is faster than your fist, and soon enough your name is echoing through the room. “Oh? The one right behind me, hmm? Dreadfully convenient, really. Step forward, dear, and let me see the proof. Assuming it exists.” All eyes other than hers are on you, now. With a deep breath, you begrudgingly step in front of Lady Dimitrescu, trying not to even briefly glance at her chest (or worse, lower). One of her hands shifts, a long claw tilting your chin up. “Well?”

“Forgive the placement,” you mutter, awkwardly grabbing your shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal your soul mark, planted neatly on the center of your chest. If Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze wanders, it does so too quickly to be noticed, though she does make a low humming noise at the sight. Feeling much like a piece of meat on display at the butcher’s, you scowl deeply. Soon enough, but not as soon as you’d like, the claw under your chin retracts, and you once more cover up your soul mark. You can’t bring yourself to look your soulmate in the eyes.

“Hmm. Not what I expected. Not at all,” she muses, more to herself than to you, softly. Behind her, Juniper is sending you a sympathetic expression. All you can do, as Lady Dimitrescu judges you, is glare at the origin of this revelation. What did she think to gain by speaking up? Hadn’t she heard the same rumors that you had? Didn’t she know that your employer already loved another, even if that affection was unrequited? There was, simply put, no chance that you were the preferable option. Not when there was no race against neither time nor death. At best, you could be a distraction. Something to keep her mind off of the person she’d rather be with. “Go clean up, get some sustenance if you must, then go to my quarters. We will discuss this further there- after I am done here.”

With that said, she waves you off, letting you relax for the first time in several minutes. After giving a short bow, you immediately move to leave. On your way, you intentionally bump shoulders with the maiden who spoke up, sending her a glare, then give Juniper a nod of acknowledgement. Nervous wreck or not, she was the only person you ‘knew’ on the night shift. Not that such a thing would even matter soon. To think that we’ve been soulmates this whole time, you think, living in the same castle for months, never seeing each other. I wish things could have stayed that way. At least you’d have some time to process your developing situation. Though you doubted you’d have enough time.

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

In an unusual change of pace, Alcina dismisses the rest of her servants, long before her bath is done. They exchange glances before scattering to the winds. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, and she sinks lower into the tub. Of course I have a soulmate, she thinks, bitterly. I knew this. Knew that it wasn’t her, and yet still, I find myself surprised. Disappointed, even. How had an already rough evening gotten even worse? More than that, what was she supposed to do about it? There was a part of her that wanted to kill her soulmate. She figured that, with them out of the way, the universe might finally understand who she was meant to be with. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for ‘widows’ to be given a new match, and those were generally other ‘widows’. Considering that Alcina knew for a fact that Mother Miranda’s soulmate had long since died, she did not think that her hopes were beyond possibility.

But there was another part of her, quieter, that dared to be more realistic. If the universe said that this human, this tiny thing, was her soulmate… would it not make sense to at least try? What harm could it do, when her current love had been unrequited for so long? Was this not the end to several decades of loneliness? Damn it, she thinks, gripping the edge of the bathtub until her knuckles turned white. There was no denying it, now that a single drop of rational thought had corrupted her mind. Fuck it all, I hardly have a choice. Or anything to lose, for that matter. With her decision made, she rises to her feet, emotionally ready to face the unknown.

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

“Ah, so you do follow directions, after all. I half expected to learn that you had attempted to flee, or perhaps had a gruesome run in with one of my daughters,” Lady Dimitrescu chimes, as she ducks into her room. Inside, standing at attention, you await. All of your earlier nervousness returns, though this time it is tinged with your natural rage. Of all the monsters in the world, this was the one you were expected to love. It mattered not how tall she was, or how sharp her nails could be, or how fierce her loyalty to Mother Miranda. To you, it mattered that you had no choice in being here, that only a handful of servants had come to the castle willingly. It mattered that a single mistake could mean a cruel death. So you did not greet your soulmate with a smile, or excitement, rather with a forced bow and blank expression. Better to be dead than to fake true love. “Come now, do at least pretend that you are excited, for my sake. I have been waiting a century for this, after all.”

“Perhaps the universe found it difficult to find someone who could love you,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth, instant regret boiling up inside of you. What you expect is a swift death. What you get? A deep sigh, a scowl, a look of frustration. Still fearing your possible demise, you are quick to keep speaking. “Or maybe the universe heard me talk once, and struggled to find someone to tolerate me. Countless possibilities, a galaxy full of mysteries… and here we are. Forgive me for being crass, my Lady. I would blame it on my schedule change, but something tells me you would see right through that lie, yes?” Not like that was much better, you think, wondering how the hell you were going to survive this.

“You’re quite the character, aren’t you?... Do try not to make me regret this, I’d rather not kill my soulmate. Now, sit down, it’s about time for a proper introduction,” Lady Dimitrescu commands. Then she’s sitting on the edge of her bed, gently patting the spot next to her. Joining her is just about the last thing you want to do right now… but you obey nonetheless. Still, you angle yourself away from her ever so slightly, hoping the subtle body language would help you distance yourself from her. There’s something in her expression that tells you she knows exactly what you’re trying to do. “I am Lady Dimitrescu, though you already know that. You may call me Alcina… for now. Behave, or that is one of many privileges I will not hesitate to take from you. Understood?”

It takes all of your willpower to avoid rolling your eyes, but you manage, instead giving a short nod. This’ll be interesting, for sure.

[blazingparker]

What’s Up, Danger?

**so this is the fic that the lovely @snowstark allowed me to run by them to make sure it made sense to other people and not just my own brain. i really, really hope you enjoy it!

read it on ao3!

Summary: When Peter Parker gets bitten by a radioactive spider in his college’s lab, he doesn’t expect anything that comes next. Not becoming Spider-Man, not being hunted down by the Avengers, and definitely not a secret friendship with Tony Stark.

--

“So, let me get this straight. You want us to hunt down the one superhero in New York City that’s not mooching off my bank account, force him to tell us who he is, and then try and get him to join the team?” Tony could not believe what he was hearing. He sat back in his seat at the head of the table and stared straight ahead at Nick Fury.

“We don’t know that he’s a superhero,” Fury drawled, relaxing in his chair at the other end of the table. “He could be more evil than we know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guy plucking kittens out of trees and helping lost old Dominican ladies with directions is a supervillain in the making,” Tony deadpanned, clearly not impressed.

“Tony, orders are orders.” God, Steve was infuriating.

“Tell me, do you ever question anything or are you a walking lapdog?” Tony and Steve glared at each other until Natasha cleared her throat, breaking the tension in the room.

“Look, we’ll bring him in.” At Tony’s look of indignance, she raised a hand. “There’s no reason to go out there guns blazing, though. He hasn’t done anything to warrant that. If we show up looking ready to fight, he’ll avoid us. We will handle this professionally. With tact.” On the last word she stared pointedly at Tony, who pretended not to notice.

“So long as this ends with us knowing who’s behind the mask, I don’t care how you get it done,” Fury said as he stood. “I’ll let Pierce know you’re on board. That should get the prick off my back for a while.” With that, he left the room to the six Avengers sitting around the table.

“What is it with you and going along with whatever SHIELD wants?” Tony barked out, and Steve crossed his arms.

“SHIELD knows what’s best to keep this world safe. We should trust them to give us missions that are important and best left unquestioned.”

“Yeah, I don’t think telling us to beat up the guy who saved the owner of that deli that got blown up last week qualifies.” Tony huffed out an irritated sigh.

“Look, let’s just try and approach him one-on-one,” Natasha suggested. “That way no one feels threatened. Maybe one of us can form a relationship with the guy, get him to trust us.” When no one voiced an objection, she continued. “Tony, you can go first since you’re so protective of the guy.”

“Protective?! I am not-” Natasha left the room before Tony could finish.

---

The first thing Tony noticed when observing Spider-Man was that the guy had absolutely no self-preservation instincts. He literally flung himself off the top of a building, whooping and hollering all the way down until he almost made a little spider puddle on the ground before finally shooting out a web and swinging away. The guy ran into a burning building without a second thought and came back out with a kid in his arms.

That last incident was how Tony finally had the chance to speak with him. By tracking him with JARVIS, he saw that Spider-Man had stopped at a local playground. It looked like he was taking a breather, and was even more likely given the guy had just inhaled massive amounts of smoke. He suited up and flew over to the spot, clearly catching Spider-Man by surprise.

“Hey there, Spider-Man. Or should I call you Danger-Man, since you seem to have a knack for running right towards it?” Tony landed a respectable distance from where Spider-Man was perched on top of the jungle gym.

“What can I do for you?” Okay, so Spider-Man was young. His voice told Tony that much.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. Nick Fury sent me. Us. The Avengers. But it’s just me for now.” Already, Spider-Man had visibly tensed. If Tony could see his eyes behind those pathetic goggles, he’d bet good money that they had narrowed considerably.

“What do you want.” Spider-Man said, his tone conveying it was a demand that Tony tell him now, not a question anymore.

“We want to know who you are. What makes you tick. What made you put on that god awful excuse for a suit and run into a burning building today.”

“Not all of us are billionaires, Stark. Some of us have to work with what we’ve got, and I haven’t really got much.” Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile at that and he huffed out a laugh. Spider-Man’s quips were infamous, and now he could see why. The guy was good.

“Look,” Tony allowed his faceplate to flip up. Maybe that would help relax the agitated vigilante in front of him. Being able to look at his eyes had to be better than a titanium-alloy mask. “For the record, I was against this plan. I told Mr. Eyepatch up there that we should leave you alone.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Spider-Man sounded a little surprised at that admission.

“I got outvoted. The Avengers are a democracy, apparently. Cap’s a real bitch about it. I preferred the authoritarian model.” Tony sniffed, glancing away before looking back at Spider-Man when he chuckled quietly.

“Good to know you really are the big happy family that they show on the news,” Spider-Man shot back. Tony couldn’t help a real grin from forming that time.

“Oh yeah, big time. Ever seen Annie? It’s like that. Except Annie is actually the entire team and I’m Daddy Warbucks for all of them.” After a moment of shared laughter, things grew quiet again. Tony took a step forward, counting it as a win when Spider-Man didn’t scramble to get away.

“I’ll leave you alone from now on, since that’s clearly what you want. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Spider-Man sounded wary but intrigued.

“Gimme your number.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Just because I’m gonna leave you alone doesn’t mean the others will. If they pull some stupid shit while trying to convince you to tell them who you are, I wanna know. Give me your number.”

“How would I call you if you have my number?”

“I’ll call you first.” Tony was surprised to find he actually truly did mean it. Spider-Man just stared at him for a second before rattling off a phone number and disappearing into the night.

This definitely wasn’t ideal. Tony knew that. But at least this way he had a way of knowing if the team went too far in their attempts to complete the mission.

Grinning, Tony plugged the number into his phone before hesitating over the space left for the contact’s name. He didn’t know Spider-Man’s identity, and definitely couldn’t plug in Spider-Man in case anyone ever saw. Remembering his very first quip to the vigilante, his thumbs flew over the screen.

Danger.

---

Over the course of the next few weeks, Tony and Spider-Man struck up a routine. After each encounter with the Avengers, Spider-Man would give him a call and let him know how it went down. Luckily, things hadn’t gotten violent yet.

Tony was also finding himself...attached. To this masked vigilante from Queens. Something that made absolutely no sense and was probably going to end in disaster for them both. This guy clearly wanted nothing to do with the Avengers - no matter how friendly the two of them had become.

A ringtone disrupted Tony from his thoughts and he grabbed his phone, smiling a little when he read the screen.

Incoming call from: Danger

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked as he answered, pushing back from the lab table he was stationed at and walking to the window.

“Are you ever not going to answer the phone that way?” An exasperated voice came from the other end of the line. Tony grinned. He’d taken to always answering with the same “what’s up, danger?” First, it had been because he didn’t want anyone to walk in and hear him greeting Spider-Man. But slowly, it was becoming an inside joke with the two of them.

“Not a chance. But c’mon, gimme the rundown,” Tony said, gazing out over the New York City skyline as though he might see Spider-Man if he looked hard enough.

“Cap and Widow came this time. Gave me the same rundown, telling me they were running out of options and didn’t want to have to resort to other measures,” Spider-Man informed him. His voice dipped lower on the last few words in an imitation of Steve’s voice. Tony’s blood ran cold at that, and he quickly sat down on the nearest chair.

Why was he so afraid for Spider-Man all of a sudden? They were just pals. The guy was a vigilante that clearly had enhanced strength and other powers and could take care of himself.

“What the hell does that mean?” Tony asked, clenching his jaw.

“I didn’t exactly stick around to find out,” Spider-Man said with a laugh. “You could ask him though.”

“And risk him finding out exactly how I knew of this threat? Not a chance. Then things would just get worse,” Tony explained with a sigh.

“You really don’t need to be so worried. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not worried.” The words came out just a little bit too fast, and Spider-Man chuckled.

“Sure, Tones.” The nickname sent..something through Tony. Not affection. It was not affection. Nothing like that. “Anyway, I gotta hang up. Got readings to get done.”

“So you’re in college!” Tony cried triumphantly, waving a hand in the air to try and tell JARVIS to add that to the file he had on Spider-Man. When there was silence on the other end of the line, he sobered up a bit. “I’m not gonna look into it. Promise.”

Another beat of silence.

“Alright. Talk to you later, Tony.”

---

The next time Tony’s phone rang, he was eating dinner with Natasha and Rhodey after being dragged out of his lab. When he saw Danger flash across the screen, he quickly excused himself and walked out of hearing range.

“What’s up, Danger?”

“Would you tell Hawkeye over there to quit it with the arrow-fest?” Tony’s eyebrows just about disappeared into his hairline and he clutched the phone a little tighter. He could hear Spider-Man’s breath coming fast, like he’d just finished swinging. He probably had.

“The what?” He asked, voice edging on a growl.

“He and Thor showed up, tried to ask me again. When I made it clear I wasn’t interested in joining the Brady Bunch and tried to leave, he took a shot at me. Without my danger sense, I definitely would’ve been hit.” Another interesting fact about Spider-Man, but Tony couldn’t pay attention to that now.

“He-fuck, I’m so sorry. That was never-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Tony ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“It’s fine, Tony. You didn’t take the shot at me,” Spider-Man insisted. “I can handle a few pissed-off Avengers. Really.” After a moment of Tony trying to come up with a response, the vigilante spoke again with a softer voice. “Tony, I’m okay. It’s not your fault. I’m not hurt, I’m safe at home.”

Somehow, the knot that had been growing in Tony’s chest eased at hearing Spider-Man was safe at home. He nodded before realizing he was on the phone and that response wouldn’t really work. “Alright, as long as you’re safe.” Where the hell did that come from? “I-I hate to cut this short but I walked out on Rhodey and Nat and-”

“-and if you’re gone too long, the jig is up. No worries, I get it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Tony couldn’t stop a smile at the understanding in the man’s voice.

“Talk tomorrow.”

---

After that phone call, Spider-Man’s run-ins with the Avengers got increasingly volatile. While Clint had admitted to losing his cool when he shot the arrow and acknowledged it had been a mistake, they’d lost whatever trust they’d built up with Spider-Man.

Well, the others had. Not Tony.

Each encounter had more biting remarks than the last, and their duration was getting shorter and shorter. The Avengers had even tried catching up to him multiple times in one night. All that resulted in was an exhausted, irritated Spider-Man - Tony could hear it in his voice when they spoke on the phone.

Tony was working on a new suit in the lab when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly two in the morning. His crooked heart started beating a little faster at that - only one person would call him so late.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked cheerfully as he picked up the phone. The cheer dissipated immediately when he didn’t get a response. All he could hear was labored breathing and a groan of pain. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Tony,” Spider-Man answered, words slurring together. Tony immediately moved to his closest functional suit, letting JARVIS transfer the call over as he got into it.

“What happened?” Tony tried his best to keep the panic from edging into his voice. The faceplate closed and he could see JARVIS running a tracking program, trying to find out where Spider-Man had last been seen.

“No big deal. ‘S just a guy. He had a big knife. Huge. ‘S not safe for the neighborhood,” Spider-Man answered. Tony felt a chill run through him - Spider-Man had been stabbed ? His danger sense never allowed anyone to land a blow.

“Apparently not so safe for neighborhood Spider-Men either,” he quipped with a shaky voice. “Are you doing okay? Have something to stop the bleeding?”

“Does pavement count?” Even in an injured state, the guy was still churning out one-liners like it was nothing.

“I have located Spider-Man, sir,” JARVIS piped up. “Plotting the fastest course.” Tony whirled around, blasting the nearest window and watching it shatter before shooting out of it at top speed.

“Why didn’t you dodge it?” Tony asked, desperate to keep Spider-Man talking to him until he could get there.

“Danger sense isn’t workin’.” Spider-Man’s voice was significantly quieter at that, like he was ashamed.

“Faster, JARVIS! Why not?” Tony barked the command at his AI but softened his voice for the injured vigilante.

“Tired.” The one-word answer was enough. Even if the Avengers hadn’t struck Spider-Man directly since the incident with Clint, they’d caused this. Their persistence had worn down a decent man to the point where he couldn’t defend himself against the common criminals of Queens. That wasn’t what they were supposed to be about, and Tony felt disgusted just thinking about it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to for much longer. The suit began to descend towards a rooftop in a sketchier area of Queens, and Tony spotted the red and blue jumpsuit the guy insisted on wearing. The faceplate flipped up as he landed and knelt next to the form lying on the ground.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked, trying to tease as he gently pushed away the blood-soaked fabric to get a look at the wound.

“Oh my god, this again? Just leave me to die.” Spider-Man groaned, but didn’t push Tony away. The older man laughed, shaking his head. He then pointed his index and middle fingers at the wound, allowing a healing gel to spray out of the suit and onto the injury. It was a new creation of Tony’s - it would stop the bleeding and keep the wound stable until they reached a medbay and could get real medical attention.

“There we go, Spider-Man. We do need to get you properly fixed up, though. This is a temporary solution.” Tony said, leaning over the man still lying there limply. Slowly, Spider-Man brought a hand up to his head. Tony thought he was feeling for blood, and watched in shock as the hand gripped the hood of his mask and tugged it off.

Of course he’s hot, was the first thing that went through Tony’s mind. Floppy brown hair, soft pink lips, and those big eyes that reminded him of a certain deer from an animated Disney movie. Spider-Man shifted slightly, trying to sit up with a quiet groan, and Tony rushed to support him and help hold him up. Spider-Man looked up at him and gave him a crooked grin.

“It’s Peter,” he said. His name. Tony smiled brightly in return.

“What’s up, Peter?”

[shewrites02]

Wounded |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: The reader is wounded while on a mission, This leads to a rift in their relationship

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm new to putting Naruto fanfics on my Account. If you have an suggestions or requests I'm open to all of them. Thank you so much.

fuck! This was your ass when you got home, and you knew it. You pleaded to Lady Tsunade to send you on this mission, short of getting on your hands and knees you said and did anything in hopes of persuading her to say yes. Eventually she caved. Knowing very few things got you this emotional she couldn't bring herself to say no even if she had felt you weren't ready. Plus she knew even if she declined you would devise a scheme to end up there anyway, and she wasn't wrong. You had a plan a, b, and c just incase she was adamant in her refusal.

What you didn't have a plan for was explaining to Shikamaru what you were about to do. Go on a S ranked mission despite just clearing your Chunin examinations. When word finally did get back to him, he was furious! that same morning he marched into the Hokage's office and demanded answers.

"I understand you are angry, but I will not explain myself to the likes of you! You want an explanation you speak to your girlfriend!" She snapped at him.

He knew better than to argue further, to expose himself and allow himself to be vulnerable and open with his concerns even just in front of the Hokage. He also knew she was right, it wasn't really her he was angry at.

When the door swung open and slammed against the wall of yall's shared living space you knew who it was, and what was coming.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Shikamaru belted out down the corridor of the small two bedroom apartment. When you did not respond he barged into the master bedroom forcing your attention.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He continued "You must be invincible, death must not be a concern of yours. No your just that fucking strong despite needing three attempts to pass your Chunin exams."

His words stung, even brought tears to your eyes. You tried to remind yourself that they didn't come from a place of malice, but of concern. That did not stop them from hurting, it did not stop them from making you feel small, and weak.

"I need to do this!" You croaked stifling tears that threatened to fall. Your voice trying it's hardest to be strong.

"EVEN IF IT KILLS YOU?!" Shikamaru quickly rebutted.

you took a deep breath before calmly responding, as if to accept the words as they fell out of your mouth.

"Even if it kills me."

The way Shikamaru's eyes fell you could've sworn you'd thrown a kunai straight through his heart. He was gutted, almost to the extent of feeling betrayed.

"Even if that means leaving me here alone."

You could hear the tears trembling in his throat but not a single one fell. He simply turned and walked out the apartment. This was two days before you were supposed to leave, and was the last direct conversation you had with him before you're departure.

While on the journey Kakashi told you two things. One that he had promised Shikamaru that you'd return to the village even if it meant he did not and secondly that Shikamaru had asked him to give you note.

Inside was a detailed apology for suggesting that you were weak or incompetent. Shikamaru said he didn't want you leaving the village believing he had no faith in you or your abilities. Instead he outlined his fears for you. That you weren't ready physically or emotionally to tackle a mission such as this one, that the cost of this mission may have a higher price than you bargained for. Most importantly that you would never come back. He emphasized how much he loved you but was sure to let it be known how angry he was at you. Your complete disregard for his feelings and concern hurt him. He wrote of how unsure it was that he would be there when you returned. He wasn't sure if his methodical mind could forgive such reckless behavior.

That's all you could think of as you laid motionless on the cold forest floor, how correct Shikamaru was. The mission was a success but now you weren't even sure you'd be around to celebrate the victory that seemed to be worth your life just a week ago. In this moment your were heartbroken, distraught, most of all guilty.

The last memory the love of your life would have of you is you telling him that completing some personal vendetta was worth giving up spending the rest of yall's lives together. This was a risk you didn't have to take, a mission you weren't assigned to but you looked Shikamaru in his eyes and told him it was more important than him. And look at you now, fulfilling the very prophecy he feared you would. He would never forgive you for this.

The warm sensation of your blood coating the back of your hands, drew you out of your thoughts. The voices of Sakura and Kakashi were a faint whisper to you, despite the fact they were shouting at each other. You could make out Kakashi telling her to hurry and patch your wounds. He knew it would be a while before the medical core could make it all the way out here, and he wasn't sure you had that much time. He was hoping if Sakura could just stop the bleeding, he could carry you to the village himself. If she could only stabilize you he could do the rest.

"Kashi." You grunted out, twitching your fingers till they meet his hands. His panicked eyes looked over at you and softened some. He was trying hard not to let on how worried he truly was, but the usually stoic ninja, could not handle the thought of breaking his promise.

"Please... tell Shikamaru I'm sorry. Tell him he was right, he'll like that." A pained laugh fumbled from your lips, along with a weak smile.

"Tell him yourself."

You went to protest but felt every bit of chakra drain for your body. Kakashi and Sakura slowly began to fade until everything went black.

-

When you awoke the agonizingly bright lights along with the low hums of all the equipment were a clear indication of where exactly you are, The Leaf Village hospital.

"And she lives." Kakashi announced. A copy of make out tactics in hand, although his masks was up you felt he had a small smile plastered on his face. As you observed his clean, tidy appearance it was clear you had been here longer than it seemed.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week!" Lady Tsunade scolded her arms folded against her chest as she stormed in Sakura trailing behind her. "Just as I said You nearly got yourself killed out there!"

"But I didn't." You rebutted offering a meek smile. Despite Kakashi and Sakura's giggles Lady Tsunade was not amused.

While you scanned the crowded room, you couldn't help but notice Shikamaru was nowhere to be found. You knew he would be angry with you, but so angry he wouldn't even check up on you. Had you really spent a week in the hospital without a single visit from him? was it true you had survive this mission but your relationship had not? The eerie feeling was too strong to ignore, you couldn't even focus on Lady Tsunade chastising you.

"He's come by everyday!" Sakura interrupted pointing over to a bouquet of Jasmines and Roses, Ino no doubt picked for him.

"He.. didn't want to be here when you woke up." Kakashi confessed.

Sakura elbowed him, right in the middle of his ribs causing him to wince in pain. He nurtured his side shuffling his feet slowly away from her. Clearly he wasn't supposed to share that part. But you appreciated Kakashi's honesty, even if it did break your heart.

"I'll be walking you home." he continued throwing the backpack that you carried everywhere with you over your shoulder.

"Remember, you're on bed rest as soon as you make it home. If I even hear that you've be training so help me God!" Lady Tsunade narrowed her eyes to further emphasize her point. Message received loud and clear.

As you and Kakashi strolled through the village neither of you spoke. You were far to focused on what you might find when you returned home, while he just enjoyed the silence. He feared you might request his input with the situation you and Shikamaru had going on. He was sure all he would do is make you feel worse. The copy ninja was a man of few words, and none of them were inherently comforting.

Once yall approached the front door, you noticed the house completely dark, not even the shine of a table lamp. This was peculiar, your home was usually fully lit at this hour. Shikamaru would usually be home to eat lunch or at the very least find some peace away from his comrades to work out a strategy for a new mission he was assigned. No matter what the reason... he was always here and the house was always vibrant. This dark ominous empty home was not one you knew.

You tried to tell Kakashi that you were more than capable of carrying your bookbag in, but he insisted. You think he's just afraid if word gets back to the Fifth Hokage you exerted any type of unnecessary energy the blame would fall on him. But when the two of you walked across the threshold yall immediately stopped.

Shikamaru was home, sitting completely in the dark staring at the ceiling. The sound of the door opening not even making him move an inch.

"I'll, just leave this here." Kakashi mumbled, placing your bag beside you and walking out closing the door behind him.

Shikamaru still didn't move, not a glance your way, not a word spoken. Absolutely still and absolutely silent.  You wanted to jump on him, kiss him all over, tell him just how wrong you were. Tell him that with what you thoughts were your last breaths the only person you wanted to talk to was him. But you didn't, your guilt weighed so heavy on your chest it felt as if you couldn't speak.

You walked over sitting on the couch next to him, your hand meet his cheek and Shikamaru flinched making you quickly draw your hand back. It was as if he had just realized you were even there. Your eyes quickly examined every contour and mark on your boyfriends face. His flushed cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes that gleamed with a sutble red tinge. Could it be that your stoic aloof boyfriend had been sitting here crying all day? The sight shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could you do this to him? How could you be so selfish?

You reached out for his hand grasping it firmly almost as if you didn't grab him now he would be gone forever. In spite of not even being able to look at you Shikamaru held your hand just as tight.

"Shikam-"

"Do you know how mad I am at you?" he interrupted. "Lady Tsunade had to put you in a medically induced coma for a week... A FUCKING WEEK Y/N!"

"I'm sorry you were right. you were right, baby you were right." You cried tears streaming your face.  "I'm sorry."

You didn't wanna argue, you had no fight left in you. For God's sake you just wanted the man you loved to look you in your eyes. Tell you how much he missed you, that he was worried about you, and he's still in love with you. That he'll always be in love with you. But he was as cold as ever, he refused to cast his gaze upon you. instead his eyes continue to linger at the ceiling.

Shikamaru wanted to stay angry, as glad as he was to have you alive here with him he still wanted to punish you. He wanted you to hurt just like he did when he had to watch Kakashi carry you unconscious through the front gates, or when Lady Tsunade told him your injuries were to extensive to wake you up after surgery. or maybe when you looked him in his eyes and proclaimed how little your life was worth in comparison to a mission you weren't even officially assigned. Shikamaru wanted you to feel a fraction of what he has the past two weeks.

"Shikamaru... baby. Please, look at me." You begged him reaching for his face again. This time you forced his eyes to meet yours.

As angry as he was, when Shikamaru looked into your tear filled eyes he melted. After a week of watching you lay basically lifeless in a hospital bed, seeing that glimmer of life in your eyes nothing seemed to matter anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorr-"

Shikamaru didn't let you finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours for a sloppy passionate kiss. He pulled you onto his lap never breaking away from you. His hands held your waist tight, you were sure he would leave marks, but the thought of letting you go was almost traumatizing for him. In his arms, he knew you were safe that you wouldn't run off again.

"I was so worried about you." He mumbled against yours lips, light gasp for air in-between his words. "I love you so much y/n... you can't die on me."

[kakashiswilloffire]

Congratulations on a 100! Can I request a female reader and a scenario where Kakashi discovers in a very shocking way that his s/o is pregnant? Please don't mind not writing if it bothers you. Stay hydrated and have a nice day regardless!🌸

thank you for the request!! hope you enjoy!!

***

A Kunoichi's Suprise

ao3

words: 1.9k

kakashi x fem!reader, fluff, reader is pregnant

***

“I do hate to do this to you, but you’re the best choice. There’s not an Inuzuka available who has the security clearance necessary, which makes you the only ninken-user I can assign this to.”

Kakashi nodded and shrugged, brushing off the unspoken apology. “I understand, it’s no issue.”

Tsunade pursed her lips into a thin line, nodding solemnly. “If it wasn’t so time-sensitive, I’d put someone else on it, I swear.” She tucked a loose strand of her silvery blond hair behind her ear and shuffled the papers on her desk, bringing a personnel file to the top. “And to accompany you… Again, I’m really sorry, but she’s the only one who makes sense. She was in the area most recently out of all available jonin and her weapons expertise makes her the best candidate to accompany you.”

His eyebrows dipped together in mild confusion. He would have requested this partner if she hadn’t been assigned—he agreed fully that they would make the best team for this recovery mission. Shaking it off, he nodded again. “Sounds great, Lady Fifth. Anything else?”

Tsunade let out a breath she had been half holding and leaned back in her chair. Tonton gave a relieved squeak and Shizune pulled her closer to her chest. The Hokage dragged her hands across her eyes, then leaned forward on her elbows.

“Glad you’re taking this so well. I thought you’d at least argue about your fiancé going with you, if not objecting to being sent on a mission right now at all.”

Kakashi jerked his head backwards and to the side, scanning over the Sannin with his single vibrant, gray eye. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I like to argue with superiors, Tsunade-sama. That’s really more Naruto’s thing.” She snorted, and he took it as a good sign. “When would you like us to head out? Thirty minutes?”

Immediately, Tsunade shot him down. “She needs a medic to look her over before she can go into the field. I’m happy to do it myself. Her training with her team ends at noon, right?” She glanced at the clock, then gestured to Shizune. “Send Kotetsu or Izumo to pull her, we can’t wait that long.” With a quick nod, she ducked out of the room. “Meanwhile, you can go pack bags for you both. Be sure to grab her med pack, I’ll probably need to give her a bonus prescription or two for the journey.”

At this point, Kakahi’s confusion could no longer be dismissed. Why would his fiancé need extra medication for a mission? He had just seen you when you left to meet your team of genin, and you hadn’t mentioned anything. Maybe the stomach bug you had had a few weeks ago had been worse than you let on?

“Sorry, prescriptions? Are we facing potential poisoning?” He tried, looking for an explanation.

Tsunade shook her head firmly. “Anything is possible, but I’m not concerned about it.” She ran her hand backward through her hair, shaking it gently toward the ends and letting it fall out of the way. “More concerned with making sure she’s getting the correct nutrients. I’ve been working on the nutritional value of shinobi rations, but it’s hard to find something that’s shelf stable, lightweight, and compact without just being food pills.”

Kakashi agreed, a debate he had heard on nearly every long term mission. “So you’ll give us both supplements, fair. Should we do my physical now while we wait on my fiancé to arrive?” He relished the words in his mouth, the phrase “my fiancé” almost a dream to him, even still.

She gave a bemused chuckle, glancing the scarecrow of a man up and down. “Why, you have some kind of boo-boo you need me to kiss?” Tsunade returned to the paperwork on her desk, shuffling it again and pulling the shinobi copy of the mission details file out, holding it out to him. “I trust you to get whatever nutrients you need after all these years of life, Bakashi,” she teased.

He didn’t move to take the file. “What’s going on?” he demanded, as respectfully as absolutely necessary. “What’s going on that she needs a medical check and extra medication to travel on a mission? Why did you think I would object to being paired with her? It’s not our first mission together, not even since we got engaged. What am I forgetting?”

Tsunade didn’t react to his interrogation, continuing to organize paperwork and leaning down to pull open a drawer in her desk, sliding his and your personnel files inside. “The fetus, maybe?” She offered, waving a hand like it was obvious.

The what?

For a moment, Tsunade could almost hear the cogs grinding in the shinobi’s head. You passing him every drink that had been pushed on you in the last few weeks, the stomach bug that he had never caught, and the uptick in morning meetings you had.

Then the cogs were brought to a halt, and the whole world froze. The blood running through his body was ice cold, and he felt his fingertips and forehead tingling. Were you really pregnant?

Was he, Kami forbid, going to be a father?

Tsunade swore, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything violating medical confidentiality, but with the pregnancy already being in the second trimester, she had no idea that you hadn’t told Kakashi yet. “Listen, Kakashi… just sit down, okay?” She looked around, swearing again at the reminder that this damn office had no chairs outside of the one she occupied.

She jumped up, crossing over to Kakashi and pushing him forward into the chair behind the desk. “Breathe, Kakashi, come on.” She shook him gently, then lightly slapped his cheek. “Come on, soldier. You’re Kakashi of the Sharingan, master of a thousand jutsu, pull it together.”

He flatly refused.

The door to the Hokage’s office opened, Shizune and Tonton leading you in. You took a moment to take in the scene of your fiancé hyperventilating behind the desk, the Hokage herself swearing and trying to get him to make eye contact and pull air into his lungs. Then he saw you, and he paused, fear in his eyes.

“Is it true—I mean, are you—love, are you pregnant?” He choked out.

Your hand flew to your mouth as if to put the secret back inside. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually, but you had wanted the moment to be right and he had been so busy with his missions lately. He didn’t know it yet, but you had rented a room at a nearby onsen for next weekend, making sure to get a room with a private bath and windows high enough that no onlookers could see inside so that he could comfortably remove his mask. That would’ve been the way you preferred he find out, when rather than dessert, you slid the sonogram across the table after dinner. Instead, you nodded.

“Yes, my love,” you whispered. “I’m pregnant.” Instinctively, your hand rested over the part of your stomach that had begun showing this last week.

He seemed to melt into chair. “Kami… we’re going to be parents?”

You nodded, a small laugh breaking from your chest. “Yes, Kakashi, that’s the plan.”

Slowly, he gathered himself, standing up and delicately walking around the desk to the doorway where you remained. “I… You want this?” He sniffed hard, blinking twice and taking your hands. “You want to raise a child with me? This child?”

You tilted your head to the side, feeling hot tears sting your eyes. You knew he had issues with his self worth, and that would be something you would focus on for the next few months so he’d be ready for your child.

“Of course, ‘Kashi. There’s no one I trust more, no one I think would make a better father. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and I’m thrilled that I get to do it with you.”

His wiry frame jolted as though he’d been shocked, and the threw himself into your arms, allowing his fears and shock to leave him through tears. Tsunade and Shizune averted their eyes, doing what they could to preserve your privacy. Tonton oinked in solidarity. After a couple of moments, he stood again, wiping dry the parts of his face not covered by salty, wet fabric. He then hooked a finger into the mask at the side of his nose, yanked it down, and brought you into a deep kiss, warm hands wrapping around you and pulling you close.

After the surprise, you let yourself dissolve into him, allowing yourself to be swept into his emotional display. He pulled his face back after a few beats and beamed, smiling as widely as you could remember seeing him grin. Then his mouth was back on yours, this time for just a second, then a firm kiss to your forehead before he secured the mask again. Turning to face the Hokage, he wrapped his arm around your back and held you close.

“Tsunade-sama, all due respect, can Pakkun handle this? I’ll send him with anyone you’d like. Naruto, even, I don’t think he’s doing anything tonight. I can send the whole pack. I can brief Gai, or Tenzo, anyone? And if you need a weapons expert, I’m sure Tenten is more than qualified.” You giggled, watching your fiancé ramble to the leader of the village. “It’s just, I’m going to be a father, and she’s pregnant with our child, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think we’re going on any missions for the next, say, 18 years? Well, maybe some D ranks. We’ll see.”

As Tsunade opened her mouth, he cut her off with a pointed, “How’s the progress on the Konoha Orphanage coming along? They prepared for one more? Cause I’m not letting anything happen to either of us, for this child’s sake.”

Tsunade glared, but was startled out of the shouting match she was gearing up for by Shizune chuckling. Betrayed, she turned to her companion.

“I mean, this is the reaction you anticipated him having, Lady Fifth,” she giggled.

She slammed a fist on the desk, although with an intense amount of restraint given that the surface was not even dented. Finally, she looked up with a glint in her eye.

“I think Hana Inuzuka gets back this evening. I can give her twelve hours to rest and then she and Tenten, along with Gai, can probably handle it. This time.”

Kakashi was already on his way out the door, pulling you behind him in a firmly clasped hand, before she had finished. He called out a thanks over your shoulder as you left. Together, you giggled as you entered the streets of Konoha.

Your fiancé spun in circles, laughing freely and spreading his arms out. “We’re starting a family!” he shouted to the sky. You knew you would both continue to take missions with this child, and that was a conversation for another time. For now, though, you were content to spend eternity watching the love of your life giddily relish in this moment.

[antiherocorner]

They won’t dare to bother you anymore...

(This is my first Niki Lauda x Reader fic ever, and my second fanfic in general, ever... English is still not my native language, sorry for the mistakes in advance... I wrote this in one sitting, because I got inspired by my one and only @mymagicsuitcase and her Niki Lauda headcanon... The giving you their jacket one... I read it... Loved it... And this happened... Enjoy <3 )

WARNINGS: little drinking, little swearing, possibly smoking, Hunt is a dick, Lauda is a sweatheart (maybe went a little OOC, I’m not sure... I tried not to but... yeah), Reader is female, no name or y/n is mentioned

Word: 1,7k~

You were excited, but a nervous wreck as well, at the same time. 

You met Niki at a party of one of the other F1 drivers’. A friend of yours had been a good friend of him, whom owned the place, and they dragged you along, quote “You’re gonna die alone, come on! They are interesting people, and you would be just bored in your house!”. So, yeah. That’s how you found yourself leaning to the wall, beer in hand, in a massive living room, observing people in front of you. You weren’t that good in F1, you had been watching it on the TV and following some news, but you were sort of a rookie in that field. You knew some names, especially the ones which were everywhere, either after achieving something big, or having a huge rivalry. Such as Hunt and Lauda. As you were deep in your thoughts, you didn’t see that one of the mentioned drivers was looking directly at you. Also leaning to the wall with a drink in his hands, his curly locks loosely hugging his face, some have escaped from the others, and were fallen in front of his forehead. He thought you looked beautiful in those red dress of yours with a black leather jacket. Even though you looked very awkward and uncomfortable, clearly you felt that you didn’t belong there and looked like that as well, still. There was something in you which captivated him. Like you had power, but you didn’t want to waste it on something, or someone. You didn’t want to just use it randomly. You even looked mysterious. He wanted you. Only to himself. And although it entertained him greatly, that how you slipped away ever so slightly from anyone who came near you, and a visibly pain started to form on your face, like the whole world’s problem was on your shoulder, the temptation to save you from the situation, to wanted to know who you were, was way more stronger. Just as he launched himself of the wall with the foot that was rested on it, he froze in his steps. Someone else was more agile. And forward. And loud. Also drunk.

- Hey, hey, hey! Why is that, that a beautiful woman like you just standing next to a wall at a party? - startled you the one and only, James Hunt, leaning on the wall directly next to you.

- Omm… It just… I’m not a party people I guess… - you answered slightly taken back, shyly.

- Then why are you here, my lady? - he smelled like all kinds of alcohol and cigarette.

- A friend of mine brought me here… - you started but you were cut off immediately by him.

- Really? I should thank them, they brought you to me, a stunning woman who…

- That’s enough, Hunt. You’re clearly making her uncomfortable. Leave her alone. -  A hand grabbed Hunt’s shoulder, and you snapped your head to the direction of whom it might be.

- What? You want her to yourself?! Lauda… Go away, I was here sooner!!

- You’re drunk. There are plenty of ladies who would kindly do anything you say so. Now fuck off. - He didn’t want to start a fight, but he wanted to sound demanding. He really wanted him to piss off.

- Jesus… - and just like that, without a word hi was gone.

You stared at the leaving figure for a couple of seconds before you looked at the other driver in the eyes and realized he was already looking at you, like he was searching for something.

- Are you alright?

- Yeah, I think so… Thank you, Mr. Lauda. - you said shyly.

- Oh please, call me Niki. - the corner of his mouth twitched up a little.

- Thank you… Niki. - you said again, with a slight blush - I think I should go… I don’t want to start more drama, and I have already stayed more than I am comfortable with… My friend will be fine, I just get a taxi or something… - you trailed off, halfly speaking to him, halfly just thinking out loud - I shouldn’t have come… - you added quietly, but he picked it up.

- Wait! Please… Come out with me to the balcony… Get some fresh air. You look a little bit railed up, I don’t want you to leave alone like this, to be honest. - he tried so say it as casual as possible, but he really was worried for you. A little bit. Maybe. He didn’t want to admit it to himself either.

You didn’t know what to say, so without thinking you just nod slightly and let him led you towards the balcony. As you passed by the dancing figures of the party, you felt Niki’s hand touch the lower of your back. He didn’t want to startle you more than this, he just wanted to make sure that no one could bump into you, and you could get to the damn balcony as soon as possibble. Well, that’s what he said to himself in that moment, that was the reason why he touched you, surely. He relaxed a little bit, when you weren’t complaining. And you certainly weren't planning to. On the balcony you just chatted for a while. You told him your name, why you were there, your job, little things like these. In exchange he told you about himself, his job, and how this season was going for him, his plans for the remaining time of the race.  You also told him that you followed his race, the whole season, but you didn’t know everything, or rather didn’t understand everything. You liked cars, but you were no mechanic. There were a whole two weeks until the next race, which took place in the city. He offered you to go with him to his garage the next day. He could show you some stuff which might interest you. He also offered you to drive you home if you still want to leave, so you didn’t have to take a taxi or worse. You weren’t sure why, you just met this man, but there was a spark between the two of you. You said yes to him. For both things.

And now here you were, awkwardly standing at the Ferrari’s garage. During the last 2 weeks, you got to know Niki pretty well. You met him nearly everyday, either in his garage, talking to you while patching up the car, or taking you out to drinking. You weren’t together or anything. But you did liked him. A lot. You could see how he was sometimes stubborn and quick-tempered, but with you, he was way more softer. Although he rather did not show this side of him to anyone else. It was only for you. He wanted you to come to this race, but he didn’t want to drag you into any kind of gossip, which was very common in the F1 family, so you came here alone, he was already here. He got you a full-pass, so you could come to his garage, without anyone stopping you. You couldn’t see him yet, so you just stood there, out of the way of everyone. You felt a hand on your back.

- Well, well, isn’t that the beautiful lady from the that party? You missed me? - fuckin’ Hunt.

- I’m not here for you, Hunt. - you tried to say it as cold as humanly possible.

- Are you mad about our drunk incident? Look, let’s talk about that… - he stepped a few inch closer to you, as you would have liked it, trying to intimidate you.

- Get off her before I run you over with my car. - Niki appeared out of nowhere, his eyes were shooting lightnings. If looks could kill...

- Whoa, easy there Lauda. You really came here for him? - Hunt looked at you in disbelief  - You have an interesting taste… - he trailed off as he walked away, again, no more words, grinning to himself.

Niki went to go after him to hit that grin off of Hunt’s face, but you grabbed his arm.

- Calm down, it’s okay. You have to concentrate on the race. Don’t let him get under your skin. - you tried to reason him, and it seemed to work. You had his full attention.

You only noticed it now, that in his free hand there was a jacket, a red one, just like his suit. He freed himself from your grasp, and showed you the back of the jacket. NIKI LAUDA was printed on it, with huge letters. Without letting you say anything, he grabbed it, and put it over your shoulders. He carefully fixed it, so it looked good on you.

- What’s this for? - you smiled, you liked the jacket that was given to you by him.

- Just to show everyone who you support, so they won’t dare to bother you anymore. - ha said casually, grinning proudly.

- Okay - you laughed - I am only here to only support you.

- Good. - he beamed at you.

You heard a voice calling for attention. The drivers had to get into their cars. Niki was ready to go but before he could have left you, you stepped on your tiptoes, put one of your hands on the side of his face, and gave a little peck on the other side.

- I’ll be waiting for you right here. Fuck Hunt up. - you whispered into his ear.

You moved back, but Niki quickly took a hold on you, before you went to far from him.

- I might be in love with you… Can I take you out to a dinner? - he asked with the biggest grin you had saw on him.

- As a date?

- Yes. - he said with confidence.

- Only if you win… - you smiled mischievously.

- Deal. - he returned the same smile.

He let go of you and stormed to his crew and car. He jumped into his car and put on his helmet. Before he closed of its lid, he looked at you last time. You locked eyes and he winked at you. You blushed deep, but kept smiling as he drove off to the track. 

This is gonna be a good day...

[deanstead]

I Am The Apocalypse

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader; Kelly Severide x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of injury, Mentions of blood

Summary: Mini Episode rewrite of Chicago Fire S03x19 where reader was in Med when the blast went off.

A/N: First Chicago/Jay fic so I hope it’s okay~ Just something that popped in my head while I was rewatching so I just penned it down. Wrote it mainly from reader’s POV so only picked off parts where I felt would fit!

---

(Y/N POV)

I sipped my coffee at the table, dressed in Jay’s hoodie, which was my personal favourite, watching him pour his coffee.

“I can feel you staring.” He chuckled, as another lady stuck her head into the kitchen.

“Hey… Hi. Morning…” Jay glanced at her awkwardly.

“Melanie.” She responded, stepping into the kitchen.

“Jay. Will’s brother.” He responded, handing her the coffee cup.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She responded with a smile, as I watched the exchange with amusement. She seemed to just realise my presence and gave a polite nod before shuffling out of the kitchen to meet Will in the living room.

I raised my eyebrows at Jay who laughed and poured another cup of coffee for himself.

“When do you have to be at work?” Jay asked his brother, a cheeky smile lingering on his face, as Will entered the kitchen.

Will looked at his watch, “About five minutes ago?”

Jay exchanged a look with me. “It’s your first day.” He commented to his brother, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Uh, first and last, as it turns out.” Will replied, not looking up from the refrigerator.

Jay froze. “You’re… joking?”

Will shook his head. “No.”

I checked my phone, vaguely registering the conversation Jay was having with his brother about him returning to New York. 

“Just give it a couple of weeks.” Jay paused before adding, “At least.”

Will turned to face Jay and shrugged. “I got to go.” Will turned to leave, adding, “Bye Y/N.”

I waved, gulping down the last of my coffee as Jay turned back to me with a sigh. I smiled and he took the empty mug from my hands, running it under water in the sink.

As I made to get up, my head gave a dull throb. Again. This stupid migraine hadn’t let up for at least a week. I closed my eyes and frowned, waiting for it to pass, pausing in my movement to get up from the table.

“Y/N?” I could feel Jay hovering over me now.

I cracked my eyes open, looking up at him. “I’m fine. It’s just that stupid migraine.”

Jay’s expression softened. “Maybe you should get that looked at.” He suggested, gently stroking my hair.

I nodded, “Yeah, maybe I’ll go to Med later.”

“I gotta go. Text me, okay?” Jay said, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I smiled. “Be safe!” I called after him as he turned to give me a wink.

---

I had decided to make Med my first stop of the day after all and I was already sitting in a chair in the waiting room after registration. I had barely been there for 5 minutes when the waiting room became crowded with familiar faces of incoming firefighters from Firehouse 51, supporting incoming patients.

I nodded greetings to those who noticed me as they helped people in. I had been at 51 with Kelly as well as Molly’s with Jay enough times to be on familiar terms with most of them. I settled in for what I was sure was going to be a long wait, only looking up when I heard Kelly’s voice calling out, “Kendra!” as he helped the man he was supporting into a wheelchair.

Kelly glanced around and spotted me. “Y/N? You okay? What are you doing here?” He took a step closer to me.

I smiled at him. “I’m fine, just a persistent migraine, thought I’d better check it out. What’s up?” I asked, motioning to the room flooding with other firefighters.

Before Kelly could respond, a nurse stepped forward. “Everyone, may I have your attention please?” Her call was in vain to the bustle of the now full waiting room. Kelly glanced at her before calling at the top of his voice. “Listen up!”

The emergency room fell to silence almost immediately. She smiled gratefully at Kelly before turning to address everyone else. “All right, we are going to have a very full day here and I understand none of you feel well. But we’re going to need help from you as well as patience. If you’re here because of the ammonia leak…”

My attention trailed off as I noticed a patient get up and make his way nearer to her. My gut gave an uneasy churn as I watched him and I glanced over at Kelly but he wasn’t paying attention to me any longer.

The man dragged a chair towards him, stepping onto it. The nurse had now noticed him. “Sir, not yet, please. I need everyone…”

He swayed a little before he looked at everyone. “If you thought Ebola was a nightmare, I am the apocalypse!”

My eyes caught the grenade in his hand. “Kelly!” I shouted, as the man pulled out the pin.

“Death to all Americans. You’re all dead in two weeks!”

Kelly spun around as I saw Casey exit the treatment room that he had been in.

“Allahu akbar!” he screamed.

I watched in horror as Kelly sprinted towards him, pushing the nurse out of the way and flinging the man onto the ground, the sounds of the explosion drowning out my voice screaming my friend’s name.

----

The aftermath of the explosion was nothing but chaos. I heard firefighters running around, trying to contain the panic, as well as the people who were trying to run out of the emergency room.

“Hey, you okay?” I looked up.

“Y/N?” Will asked again when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, I think so.” His eyes raked over me. “Let me take a look.” I let Will do what he needed to do and answered questions that he asked me. Satisfied that I wasn’t seriously hurt, he squeezed my shoulder. “Stay here,” he instructed before heading over to another badly injured patient.

I could hear several instructions being called out but only one caught my attention.

“Hey, hey over here! It’s Severide!”

My head snapped up and I clambered to my feet. As everyone came around him, calling his name. Sylvie grabbed his wrist, “It’s a weak pulse.”

Will quickly rushed over. “Let me see.”

Feeling his pulse at his neck, Will looked up. “No. Black tag him. He’s gone.”

I felt my heart drop into my gut. Even I knew what that meant.

Peter spun around to look at Will. “What?”

Will met Peter’s gaze. “The percentages are very low that he’ll…”

A look of rage passed Peter’s face. “I don’t give a damn about percentages.”

Will faltered and I reached out to touch his shoulder, my voice shaking a little. “Will… please…”

Will glanced at me before looking back at Peter. “No problem. Grab a gurney.” I watched as they busied putting Kelly onto a gurney, my heart giving another uncomfortable squeeze as I heard Casey report back to their fire chief outside.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there in a daze, long after they had wheeled Kelly away. “Hey,” I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to face the nurse who had been trying to control the crowd before the explosion. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, before shrugging. “You’re April, right?” I asked her, as she looked at me quizzically before smiling.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you from Kelly. I’m Y/N.” I motioned in the direction of the treatment room Kelly was now in. She smiled back but glanced at the cut on my forehead. “Let’s just take care of this, okay?”

April helped to plaster a band-aid on my forehead, commenting that it was a miracle I wasn’t that badly hurt.

----

(Jay’s POV)

I turned into the hospital, climbing out of my car before picking up my phone to dial Y/N’s number.

Pick up, come on.

As the ringing died out, I desperately tried Will’s number. “Are you in there?”

“I am. Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here said he had something worse than Ebola.”

I froze. “What, like, he’s spreading it with this?” The pit in my stomach was expanding.

Will affirmed it. “Yeah, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him.” I could almost feel the fear bubbling up inside of me.

“Who is he?” I demanded.

Will’s response didn’t help. ��No idea. Do us all a favour and find out, would you?”

“Will, wait…” The line went dead before I could ask him anything else.

In desperation, I dialled her number again, hoping she would answer.

---

(Y/N POV)

Thanking April, I got up as she moved on to help Will and Gabriela with another patient.

As I stood, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, exhaling a breath as I stared at Jay’s name flashing back at me.

“Jay?” I answered.

“Tell me you’re not in there.” I could hear Jay’s voice laced with worry.

“Yeah, I am. Sorry.” I replied, looking around at the carnage.

“Damn it.” He cursed under his breath.

Even in this situation, I could imagine the look on his face. “Jay, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I could hear him sigh. “Look, Will is there too, so…”

I interrupted him. “Yeah, I know. He’s looked me over already, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

“Y/N…” I could hear his reluctance.

“Jay… you do what you got to do to get us out of here.” I paused. “I love you.”

Jay let out another breath on his end. “Be safe. I love you.”

We hung up and I headed towards a corner of the room, squatting next to a mother and daughter when a part of the ceiling came crashing down, as the girl to scream in fright.

I turned to her. “Hey, what’s your name, sweetheart?” I eyed Otis who ran over armed with an extinguisher to fight the flames and I continued to talk to her, successfully distracting her from the fire. Her mother smiled in thanks at me and I just smiled back. “It’s going to be alright.” I reassured her, my eyes falling again on the treatment room Kelly had been wheeled into, not sure if I was reassuring her or myself.

I looked up again as some firefighters entered the emergency room with ladders and extra extinguishers, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. They clambered up the ladders, changing extinguishers the moment they emptied one. April was going around the room trying to reassure everyone and I squeezed the little girl’s hand and smiled at her.

“Fire’s out!”, “All clear!” The firefighters shouted, clambering down from the ladders.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I stood next to Adam, surveying the computer in front of us inside the makeshift tent we were stationed in.

“Detective.”

I turned to glance in the direction of the voice of Sharon Goodwin, noting the couple following behind her.

“The parents of…”

She didn’t need to say more. I motioned to a few chairs. “Hi. Please have a seat.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?”

The man looked up with pleading eyes. “He was a smart boy. Always nice, helpful. This country has given our family so much. How could this have happened?”

I looked away for a moment. “He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola.”

They looked up in horror, as the man closed his eyes, almost as if in defeat. “From his work.”

I frowned, “What do you mean, from his work?” Adam shifted his weight.

“He was working at BHO Labs. They study infectious diseases.”

I looked at Adam. “We got to get somebody down there right now.”

Adam nodded, “I’m on it.”

I turned back to the parents, “What else can you tell me? Anything about who he might have been involved with, planned this with?”

I needed to focus on this. I needed to get them out of there.

---

(Y/N POV)

Casey stopped in front of me. “How we doing?”

I nodded back at him. He glanced at the mother and daughter next to me. “I’m working on getting some food and water in here. Okay?” He smiled before getting up, patting my shoulder.

I watched his retreating back but was distracted by someone calling out to him. “Hey fireman!”

I watched as Casey turned towards the man, who towered over him. “What’s the latest?” he demanded.

Casey frowned. “Everyone’s doing all they can.”

The man’s voice rose again. “What the hell does that mean? No one is telling us anything!”

I flinched; shouting wasn’t something I handled very well.

Casey moved towards him, trying to ask him to calm down. He seemed to give up the fight against Casey, squatting down next to the counter but the next minute, I heard Gabby’s voice, “Matt!” as the big guy swung a pipe towards Casey.

I pushed myself further back into the wall, shutting my eyes, hearing the scuffling sounds. If everyone would just calm the hell down and focus on what mattered, the faster we could probably get out of here. I focused my thoughts on Jay, trying to even out my breathing so that I could prevent a panic attack.

“You doing okay?” Will asked, grabbing my elbow.

My eyes snapped open, darting towards the other side of the room where Casey and April seemed to have handled the situation pretty well.

“Come on, why don’t you come with me.” Will muttered, pulling me up and leading me into a room. Herrmann was inside talking to a doctor, who Will introduced as Diane Claman.

I stood in the corner of the room as Will’s phone rang, and I heard Jay’s voice on the other end of the line. Even at this distance, it felt reassuring.

 “He was working with Marburg, he injected himself with it.” Will repeated to Diane.

“What’s Marburg?” Herrmann asked, frowning a little.

Diane looked at us. “It’s a viral haemorrhagic fever. The Soviets developed it as a biological weapon.” Herrmann and I exchanged a look as she turned back to Will. “Ask them which strain of the Marburg virus.”

“Which strain?” Will’s voice broke the silence again.

“Ravn.” He repeated.

Jay must have said something and Will hung up with an “All right.”

Diane looked up again. “Okay, so now I just have to see if he was past the incubation period and actually infectious.”

For the first time, I spoke up. “And if he was past the incubation period?”

Will looked at me and shook his head slightly.

“It means Aleem was a walking biological weapon.” A grim silence fell across the room.

----

I had wandered to where the rest of the firefighters had gathered, outside the treatment room where Kelly was in.

I could see the doctor extract a piece of shrapnel from Kelly and just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a spurt of blood shot out from Kelly’s open wound. I heard Sylvie’s voice, “Arterial bleeder!”

I bit my lip as I felt someone take my hand. Gabby gave me a small smile, squeezing my hand. We turned back to the room, as the machine slowly showed Kelly’s vitals stabilising and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

A few minutes later, Herrmann emerged from another treatment room, looking dazed. Everyone looked up at him. “What is it?”

Herrmann let a small smile grace his lips. “Not contagious.” The sense of relief flooded the room as Diane stepped out. “Influenza A tested positive, but the Marburg virus didn’t have time to incubate. Whatever he had in his body died with him.”

The sigh of relief was audible as everyone hugged each other.

Will looked at me and smiled, nodding. “Open up the ER!” he announced, looking around.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I heard the vague sounds of the firefighters cheering outside and looked at Adam.

He nodded, motioning for me to head outside. I patted him on the back, jogging towards the ER, looking above all the heads to see if I could spot her.

--

(Y/N’s POV)

The only thing I wanted to do was to get out of here.

I looked towards Casey.

“Severide’s fine. We won’t be able to see him until tomorrow, anyway. Go.” He reassured me, guiding me towards the exit.

I stumbled out, wincing slightly at the bruises all over my body but peered.

I spotted him almost instantly, the worried lines across his face, scanning the crowd.

“Jay.” I breathed, heading straight for him. I crashed into his arms as I heard Jay’s sigh of relief in my ear. “Oh my god.” He muttered, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my body and cradling my head. I could feel how relieved he was as he sank his body into mine.

Quickly, he pulled away, surveying me at arm’s length. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

I smiled, putting my hand against his cheek. “Bruised, but nothing serious.” I smiled.

“Thank God.” He pulled me back into his arms, holding me tightly as if he was never going to let me go.

Gently he broke away again, kissing me on the forehead. “Come on.” He muttered, gently leading me towards the white tents that I could now see.

“Halstead, get out of here.” Antonio appeared in front of us.

Jay paused, studying Antonio.

“I got you. Go on, get out of here.” Antonio winked at me and I nodded back at him gratefully.

“Thanks.” Halstead and Antonio fist bumped each other and Jay helped me into his car.

We didn’t say much on the ride back but Jay never let go of my hand.

We drove straight to his apartment and I headed straight for the shower, my bruised body welcoming the relief of warm water. Once we were cleaned up, Jay crawled into bed with me and I welcomed it, glad the day was over.

Jay put his chin on the top of my head. “You really scared me today.” He whispered.

My arms wrapped around his torso, I looked up at him.

“If I lost you…” his voice trailed off.

I leaned further into his embrace. “Honestly? I was scared too. Kelly got hurt… I was afraid I was going to lose him… afraid I wasn’t going to be able to see you again… I…” I paused before continuing, “Thanks for being here, Jay.”

Jay tilted my chin gently up so that I was looking at him and smiled. “Always.” Leaning forward, Jay pulled me into a deep kiss, which I leaned into, grateful that this day had ended as well as it could have.   

[misselko]

Got this idea from Dimitri’s conversation with Byleth before Fort Merceus battle with the Death Knight. Put some angst, fluff, and a pinch of smut spices into the dish and let it simmer down! At least, that’s what I want! But it turned out... different ;) Sorry not sorry

Please kindly leave some of your comments or ideas for my next fic! Your warm and loving words gives me energy to write more!!

RECKLESS

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence, a little smut

Words: 3316

 

POST TIMESKIP

Empire will be the only remaining enemy and to move on to the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, capturing Fort Merceus is a must. Praised as the strongest defense with its fortified military installation  in the Empire, seizing it won’t be an easy feat.

Liberating Arianrhod, calming down Holy Kingdom of Faerghus political issues, winning over the Leicester Alliance and gained their support. Getting a lead on Lady Rhea’s location. Although things were a rough go, but thinking back on it now, Blue Lions sure has really come a long way. Things have been wonderful in these past moons that it almost feels like dream too good to be true.

You don’t know why but you can’t shake your uneasy feelings and dread. War is raging and everyone knows there is a big battle on the horizon.

“We must not falter in our assault. The Death Knight is the enemy commander in Fort Merceus. He’s an unpredictable opponent. A dangerous one. Please proceed with caution, (Y/N).”

“I will, Dimitri. No need to worry.”

“I have not come this far just to lose you here. I’m serious. Do not be reckless out there.”

“Will you save me if I’m in trouble?”

“Of course, (Y/N). You were the heart of the Blue Lions, and the same holds true for the Kingdom Army.”

You smiled at his concern and hold his hands gently.

“I will do my best as well to support you, my Dimitri.” His cheeks turned into rosy blush at your words.

 

“Whoaa!! You’re getting pretty chummy, aren’t you, Your Highness? Go get a room!” Sylvain winks and got punched HARD, dragged away by Ingrid. You make mental notes on giving her a delicious roasted meat from that famous new shop in the town later as your gratitude. Serves him right!! ...But you wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. Everything will be alright with them. Blue Lions are your precious family. It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

---

Capturing Fort Merceus is a daunting task. Endless enemies are approaching and relentless. Felix and Sylvain are working together cut through the snipers and mages. Ingrid and Ashe are doing their best to handle the pegasi knights. Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn makes great combo on cutting through enemy reinforcements while providing healing to everyone. Slowly but sure, you and Dimitri managed to push Death Knight on the corner. But it doesn’t make things less difficult for both of you.

 

“You dare stand between me and my pleasure?”

The beginning of it was barely a bellow that grew steadily to a deafening roar, piercing the air and shaking the ground. Areadbhar crack in deafening clash against Death Knight’s Scythe of Sariel. They raised their weapons, waving them overhead.

 

“Yes. I dare stand against you, Death Knight!!”

 

Dimitri decides to face Death Knight head on as you tried your best to keep his back safe from the Imperial soldiers assaults. Keeping a close eye on him... just in case, following from a few meters back, cover his blind spots that way, look out for any potential danger. You could see them coming around, carefully and quietly trying to find their way to Dimitri.

 

Landing sharp blows, you bring the blade down on the head of another mage. Slashing your way through numerous enemies, you start to feel fatigued. Countless enemies lying dead behind. You looked around, among the sea of red and black, a swordmaster is sneaking his way behind Dimitri, ready to ambush him.

 

But you wouldn’t let it happen!

 

You were fully offensive, rapidly swinging your sword down on the swordmaster. You were able to deflect, parry, and block most of his attacks until his foot swept across your ankles, knocking you hard to the floor. The swordmaster stood above you, ready to press his sword into your chest to end your life. Fatigue made it harder for you to evade his deadly stab completely. Sound of a weapon piercing through flesh filled your ears, followed by an intense pain in your side. He pulled it back out with a triumphant smirk on his face. Despite the searing pain, you made it in time to grab your own weapon and thrust it up to his neck, your arms shaking as you tried to counter the weight of his attack. Grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red.

 

You sat up, wincing at the searing, burning hot pain on your side. The stab wound was way too deep. Your hands trembled, desperately attempting to put pressure on the wound as heavy flow of your blood is trickling through your fingers, colors your skin and clothes. The world had turned blurry, and your body felt weak. Ignoring the excruciating pain, you rush forward to help Dimitri. He has won against the Death Knight. But in his brief reverie, the Tempest King failed to notice two opposing snipers are approaching him, expression intent to kill, aiming their arrows at his back.

 

You acted on instinct, rushing forward, sprinting to intervene. To protect him.

‘We have been through so much together and he’d been through hell and back... I want to ease his pain. Knowing he’s safe... I can be at peace.’

You thought to yourself, launching forward. You barely has energy to stand up, but you tried to muster your last remaining strength to dove in before Dimitri. The arrows managed to easily make it’s way through your armor, landing in your chest and abdomen. ‘I have no regret when it came to protecting Dimitri.’

 

Your body slammed hard on the ground, careening across the battlefield. A sharp cry pained noise escaped you; that was all it took. Dimitri stiffened at the sound. It pulled him from the high of the battlefield down to reality in an instant.

 

“(Y/N)!!!”

 

He turned; filled with horror and rage. The fires blazing around him didn’t give off any heat. The battlefield around him turned black and white. His ears were ringing as if he’d been caught in an explosion. Dimitri went after the snipers and thrust them both at their hearts. After a quick glance to make sure no more surprise attacks happen, he kneels and pulling you into his chest. You looked so small, felt so limp that it sickened him. Broken and battered with littered scars and large wound on your side. Arrows jutting out of your chest, much too close to the heart, and another one lodged deep in your abdomen.

 

Dimitri watched as the blood pooled around you. Blood... there is so much blood. Your blood.

“Goddess... what were you- MERCEDES! FLAYN!! SOMEONE...HELP!!”

 

He pulled himself up, beside you, staring at your face. You were so pale. Oh, Goddess, you were dying. Were you already dead?

 

“I’m sorry.” There isn’t a reason to apologize, you aren’t sorry, but it still came out like the blood that is on Dimitri’s hands now.

 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” his voice choked off in his throat feels raw with emotions, barely able to hold back the sob which demands to escape, “not when you are like this. What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You have promised me to not be reckless.” He phrased it in a question, but both know why.

 

“Y-You... haven’t seen the... swordmaster... and those snipers. Y-You...were going to die...if they attack you. I want to protect you.... and I don’t regret my decision.“

 

You opened your mouth to speak but immediately coughed, feeling globs of blood on the corners of your lips. Dimitri gripped your hand, his hold so tight that it hurt, but you wouldn’t waste your breath on telling him. You could barely see Mercedes scurried over to your side as quickly as she could, Flayn follows behind her, leaving the Death Knight behind with tears running down her cheeks.

 

“Please stay awake for me a little longer, please.”

He choked out, pulling you closer if possible as it would keep you from leaving.

 

The chaos around you went mute as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe a quick nap would suffice.

 

“No...no, no, (Y/N)!! You can’t do this to me, you can’t-! Please, (Y/N), I can’t lose you too.....”

 

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. You fell asleep.

---

Every second was filled with anxiety; you’d lost so much blood. The wounds were too deep to heal completely. There was little to no possibility of survival. Not after what you’d been through.

The days turned to one week, then two...then three. The physical wounds had healed, mostly repaired and faded to scars. There was potential for things to return to normal, and you may wake up sooner rather than later.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your upper body covered in bandages. The first thing you’re aware of is a dull throb radiating throughout your entire body. You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your body and sending a wave of pain through your chest and stomach as you tried to get up. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before. With much struggle, you sat on the edge of the bed shakily trying to stand up. The door creaked open and you looked up to find Dimitri peering inside.

 

”You’re awake,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. You tried to stand up and walk to him but failed, Dimitri ran in and caught you before you fell over. “I thought I was going to lose you, (Y/N),” he said, lifting you up effortlessly, settling you gently onto the bed and pulled up a chair. 

 

As cautiously as you could, you managed to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the young king, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

 

“You nearly died because of me. I have no right to be... you of all people shouldn’t-!” He managed to say, his voice shaking as his fingers trembled.

His head shot up to look at you, cerulean blue eyes dampened by tears that pooled in them. Your eyes were open, though weakly, looking at him and his disturbed state. You sensed his worry, but also his relief as he hovers next to your bed, engulfing you in his embrace and squeezing you against his chest for all he was worth. He was mindful of your wound, but that wasn’t enough to keep him away. No, he needed you. He needed to be beside you, to feel you, to know you were there.

 

“I’m okay, Dimitri...” You whispered, resting a hand on his chest where his heart thundered. You closed your eyes against him, relishing the feel of his tender warmth.

 

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening. Your arms wrapped around his heaving back weakly, rubbing it soothingly. He pulled you closer in response—closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

 

"I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, holding your hands so tight that it hurts.

“But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

 

His voice was as quiet as it could be and it made you frown your eyebrows in worry. You were happy to see him alive, that was your goal when you decided to protect him from the approaching enemies. However, seeing him so distraught and afraid twisted your insides uncomfortably. The way he held your hand so desperately, afraid to let go.

 

“Dimitri.” You call him quietly, which makes him look at you with those gorgeous eyes of him.

 

You move your hand to his cheeks, caressing his soft skin, trying to bring him even the tiniest amount of comfort. Leaning to give him a soft chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocated by open-mouthed kiss you with such fervor. There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way Dimitri kisses you, as if this is the last moment he’ll ever feel it. It’s almost as if it pains him to be this close to you. You were alive, yet he couldn’t help but doubt it. Perhaps it was once again due to the vicious noises he still heard, though faintly. However, he was glad that they allowed him this moment of happiness.

 

“I won’t leave you, Dimitri.” You promised between ragged breath, your chest heaving.

 

“We are so close to ending this. Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. Rest, for now, my beloved.” Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding your hand to his chest. “I promise, I will never let you be hurt for my sake again.” Covering you with a  blanket  and tucking you into bed to retire for the evening.

 ---

After your awakening, the Blue Lions and Professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts (flowers and snacks), always encourage you to get better soon. But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved gentle king.

It was two weeks since you have gotten better. Mercedes promised to take care after your bandages this evening.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?”

You met Mercedes’ warm gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mercedes.”

 

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your breasts to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Mercedes sighed, slowly traced the scars your chest and stomach.

“I’m sorry but we will never be able to remove the scars. The wounds all healed, but... the scars will never go away completely. I’m sorry (Y/N).”

 

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“It’s okay. I will never regret such a thing.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Do you need anything else, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m all good, Mercedes! Thank you for your help.”

“All right, then. Annette said that she needs my help with her baking this evening. We have to finish it before midnight! Should you need anything, please feel free to call me.” Mercedes gave you last smile before excusing herself politely from your quarter.

 

“Dimitri.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. Refusing to look at your scar, a harsh reminder of his failure.

“Look at me.”

He stilled and won’t budge to look at you.

 

“I will never regret nor blame you for this. It was my decision and if it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Or... perhaps.... I can understand if you find that my... scars are disgusting, appalling, even....” you whisper softly, almost inaudible. Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into your bed.

“DON’T SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!!” He growled “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me. If.. If something ever happen to you.. I’ll live a life worse than death itself, (Y/N).”

 

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. His mouth moved awkwardly yet full of affection. Hands planted  on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravishing kisses. Dimitri pressed his lips further into yours, swallowing your moans. His lips left yours to trail down around your neck, breasts, and stomach lovingly. “This wounds... I cannot lose you again, my beloved.” His body quivered.  The King kissing the scars on your cleavage and abdomen, worshiping them reverently with tender touches, almost like touching a porcelain doll. Afraid to break you with his almost inhuman power. Biting and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites, leaving you a panting mess.

 

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling whispers of ‘I’m sorry’. Bittersweet smile formed on his lips. He gazed at you, eyes lidded with desires and need, mixed with guilt and love. “(Y/N)... My beloved...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled.

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into.

“I love you, Dimitri.”

 

He blushed at your words, then it dawned on his realization. Suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “Um, w-well...” As he came to his full senses he released his hands from you, as though from fire and stuttered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the dreamlike stupor a d hazy feeling to distract you, you realized just how naked you are. Nightgown pooled beneath your waist. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

 

He flinched, breaking eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah—Urghh!!! I’m sorry, (Y/N)!! I don’t know what came over me but.. but... P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...” The King unclasped his furred cloak hurriedly and put it over your naked body unceremoniously, hiding his flushed crimson face in his hands again, absolutely brutalized with shame. 

 

“Er.. Be certain to rest for now. We may have undone some of your healing.” Then he said hurriedly, almost inaudibly. “When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

 

“Fine...” You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, Dimitri.”

You pulled his hand to your lips and give each of his fingers soft kisses, gazing at him lovingly. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the poor King desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

 

“Good night, my beloved (Y/N).” Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, the Blue Lions Leader left with a haste that was probably unbecoming of a gentleman, his long legs taking the steps to the second floor dormitory two at a time. He somehow,  somehow  managed to reach his room without incident or interruption, locking his door behind him, leaning back against it and covering his burning red face with his hands. His body felt like it was on fire; nerve endings alight with sensations he had long believed were dead.

 

The pit of his stomach tangled in knots when he thought of (Y/N). All he could think about was your pure unadultered love, beautiful (E/C) that is gazing at him affectionately. Goddess, he was such a sinner. It made him want to put his hands on you. All over you. Repeatedly. Savoring the taste of your lips as  you moan into his mouth. Feeling your warmth and love. Unclothed. His mind is running wild. This frantic sensation in his blood, while half-forgotten, was not new. It will be another sleepless night for the poor king. And it’s all because of you.

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (1)

Word Count: ~2.2k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy. 

Notes: female!reader, eventual mutual pining, fake political maneuvers, mentions of death (yes, this is a set up to a harem drama, but Zhongli is focused in this), Zhongli POV

[Next]

hello welcome to the AU I made up; hope I finish this someday :)

“You are unfit to lead this country.”

Not two weeks after a tragedy that hits the royal family, leaving you the sole heir to the throne, that is what has been said to you over and over again. The royal court adjourns without delay, placing you in the middle of it-- though you could care less.

You hold whatever you have been able to salvage from the fire: a necklace momento from your father, the dress that your mother had woven herself. And in your hands, you hold in an urn the ashes of what remains of your family. 

There is nothing else on your mind except for the fact that you are alone as the lone heir to the throne, the only living princess of the royal bloodline, and soon-to-be Empress of a nation that you are not prepared to lead.

You just want to mourn.

.

.

.

Zhongli has lived long enough to understand that politics will always be the determining factor in which his life will be led. It does not matter what he dreams of doing or what he desires. As the only born son to one of the oldest and most prestigious families in the nation, his life has never been his own-- though he supposed no one born of royalty has ever been truly in control of their path.

Still, Zhongli finds ways to play what cards he has. He earns praises for his wide array of knowledge in tradition, politics, and culture alike, but it is easy to know something if you are interested in it. He remembers vividly when Guizhong teased him, calling him an old soul when he delved personally into the traditions of tea ceremony, of calligraphy and poetry, out of his own volition because he enjoyed learning. His skills in the polearm-- also passed down in his lineage-- have also not been neglected, for he finds that it is similar to dancing, an elegant and respectful pastime that he often admires in operas and shows that he indulges himself in. If he could do anything with his life, Zhongli thinks he would be a writer or a teacher, or possibly even a historian.

("Old man," Guizhong had said to him affectionately for the last time before she left the compound to serve her duty as a princess, like many others. "One day you'll find yourself someone who listens to you and you'll talk their ear off."

"I doubt anyone would listen to what I have to say willingly," he had said, and his friend had only given him a soft look and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

"I don't," she said.)

It has been years since he has entertained the idea of living a quiet life writing his knowledge onto paper and even longer still since had long last seen his childhood friend. Zhongli finds himself in the fray of politics that he knows so much of and has no choice but to delve into when he is invited to the royal capital.

"It is a great honor," his father had said to him, hands behind his back, "to be meeting the Princess of the royal family. Make a good impression; this is of the utmost importance."

Political maneuver, Zhongli thinks immediately, not doubting the intention of an invitation coming from the palace, especially after the incident he has been told of. A fire of great destruction, the burning of a whole wing with the royal family trapped inside-- one would think it was a plot to overthrow the Emperor, but if anyone were to stage a coup, they would have burned the inner walls of the palace where the man resides, bedridden. A great coincidence to have the royal family unable to escape, but it almost seems too malicious to call it that. Gross neglect? Bad luck? Karma? Truly, a tragedy as the death of many could not be described worse than as an accident. 

Zhongli thinks it is much too early to be moving the chess pieces so soon after half the board has been razed to the ground, but he supposed the world has never been that kind.

With a trained expression, Zhongli picks up the tea that had been brewed and takes a sip (too bitter, stepped too long, he thinks, wincing slightly, and putting the cup down). "I understand, father." He pauses for a moment and considers his words. "Is there a particular reason for this invitation?"

"The Princess is in need of education due to her lack of preparation as an heir," he says, "though I also hear she is in need of a husband as well."

The tea leaves in the cup trembles for a moment before sinking. "Father?"

"This is an opportunity of a lifetime, son."

And Zhongli thinks about his role, his abandoned journal, and books yet to be read and nods. "I understand," he says, wondering why, even though he expects where his life has been leading, he feels disappointed by the outcome anyway. "I will bring honor to our family."

"I expect nothing less," is what is said to him, and Zhongli swallows the bitterness of the tea down.

.

.

When Zhongli arrives at the palace, he is welcomed with all the excitement that is to be expected from the arrival of a son whose family holds prestige. Maids of many numbers cater to his every whim, and the few court officials who seem to favor him welcome him to the royal palace, which is broad and grand just as history would describe them. 

Briefly, he wonders if it is professionalism or greed that maintains the palace’s daily businesses after an evident tragedy.

"I would like to extend my greetings and gratitude to the princess for allowing me in her castle," Zhongli says carefully, his voice even and words like silk-- just as he was taught as an educated man-- and watches in confusion as the nobleman who had barely kept his pleasure at his presence suddenly deflate. 

"Ah, yes, of course, you would like to see the Princess," he says, a nervous lilt to his voice. "But I'm afraid she is preoccupied with another commitment at the moment. My apologies."

Invitation from the Princess, he remembers reading from the telegram, thinking it strange that someone would invite someone without intentions of welcoming them. It's easy to come to the conclusion that the Princess had not sent the message-- and the thought that she may not even know of his arrival also comes following after. Instead of speaking, Zhongli nods, much to the noble's relief as he continues to parade and provide him the tour that he has not asked for but appreciates nevertheless.

His room is two halls down the main chambers where you live. If the location and proximity to royalty were not enough, the room itself was also vast and much too big for one person, but he supposes luxury and decadence can be shown in empty space as well as it can with beautiful trinkets and trophies. Zhongli has always admired such things, as he does with the ornate statue sitting on top of his vanity and wonders when, if he ever does, he will be able to explore the castle in between whatever responsibilities the court deems him in need for.

"Maid," Zhongli says gently, but the young maid startles anyway when he addresses her. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Would I be allowed to stroll the gardens of the west side of the palace?" He says, "The moon is to be full tonight and I wish to view it."

She flushes, for reasons that Zhongli knows not for. "I-I believe so. The guards should be patrolling at the moment, but you are a recognized guest of the palace, so all should be well."

When Zhongli steps out onto the carefully maintained rock garden, he spots a few men walking down and up the inner walls of the castle. He briefly thinks about the number of them but thinks no further, for now. Instead, he thinks the moon is best viewed when its reflection is in the water, clouds are nowhere in sight, and all is quiet. He comes close to the perimeter of the garden inner castle, expecting to see no one. 

Zhongli steps into the moonlight and watches as you sit onto the grass and lean your head against the lone lantern post.

Perhaps you are here to moon-gaze as well, he thinks and goes to alert you with his presence by clearing his throat. He doesn't know why his earnest attempts to be unalarming go unwell, but he startles you into turning around. 

Zhongli does not know what the Princess looks like, nor has he had anyone describe you to him. But Zhongli knows who you are if not solely from the emblem you carry on your headpiece and the way you hold a funeral urn in your lap like it is the only thing tethering you. As such, he expects the caustic demands of his name and stature, as expected of a Princess, but he is surprised to find that you look at him instead like a deer in headlights, arms tense around the urn.

"My apologies for startling you, my lady," Zhongli begins, "that was not my intention."

"Oh, no, it's okay," you stammer, and he has to blink for a moment at the manner in which you speak. "I should have probably noticed you coming. I was distracted."

Princesses and princes of the royal family are taught three things from birth: power, manners, and tradition. Nothing says more about your status than the way you hold yourself and the way you speak, especially if you are of royalty, and so every word that one must speak seems carefully crafted and intricately woven with elegance. A tad bit obnoxious, if anyone could say, but it is a mark of the elite, regardless of the former. 

But you, who hold possibly one, if not the most, powerful title in the country, speak casually and without bothering with a mask of neutrality, as though you are unused to the burdens of sovereignty.

Your eyes are gentle, almost excessively so, and the way you hold yourself as though you want to be unnoticed are both strange but corroborating evidence of your peculiarities of a noblewoman. Though Zhongli has yet to understand why this is so, the instructions his father listed and his role in the castle has become clearer.

Zhongli has many questions, too many to ask about to a person who has no idea who he is. 

Decorum takes him before his curiosity overwhelms him, and he lowers his head in deep respect. "My name is Zhongli, Princess. Thank you for allowing me to stay as a guest within the palace.”

"Oh," he hears you breathe out, "you're the one that came today." You turn your head toward the koi pond that beautifully reflects the moon. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you," you say mechanically, trained.

"No, that's quite alright," Zhongli says mildly, glancing down at the urn still in your hands. "I'm sure greeting a stranger would be the least of your concerns at the moment."

At this, you smile at him. It is not a happy smile, but rather a pained one that strains your lips and pinches your eyes. Zhongli thinks back on his first lesson to maintain his expression, to keep composure, and almost marvels at the emotions clear on your face for him to see. 

(He thinks this may make your life harder for you, to wear your heart on your sleeves. But he finds himself selfishly wanting you to stay as you are.)

"I've been told one week is all I should be given to mourn, as typical of a funeral ceremony. My parents' ashes should be released but…" You glance up at the night sky dim with stars. "I know in my heart this is not the place for them."

"Then what is the place?" Zhongli echoes and holds his breath when the smile you give him is gentle beyond measure.

"Some place where the wind blows," you say, "where the earth is clean and the ocean is near. That way, my parents can choose freely where to find rest." You laugh. "That must be a pretty tall order, isn't it?"

"You are a Princess," Zhongli finds himself saying, and you turn back to him. "I believe you are allowed to demand only the very best, for yourself and your loved ones."

"I believe," he continues, when he sees your eyes mist over, "that I am here to tutor you in the ways the court deems fit. I have been praised to have a wealth of knowledge and the privilege of history in my family as well as the power of my lineage; I will guide you as best as you need me to." He pauses. "And… if you require a geographical lesson on the highest peaks, the widest oceans, and the most open plains, for reasons beyond academic, I will be available to you."

.

.

.

Zhongli returns to his room (two halls away, he reminds himself, from you), and it is only then he realizes that he has not looked at the moon at all. Not directly, he thinks, but he supposes he did see a glimpse of it, as it stands behind you as a backdrop to frame the smile you gave him that was as bright as starlight.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

New Norm Part 2

Hello!!! I’m back with the highly requested part 2 of my New Norm series. I am defiently open to a part 3 as well if people continue to enjoy it. Not too too much ‘plot’ here, just getting back to school while trying to navigate a new relationship. Some tender moments, and some very cuddly Sirius. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

Part 1

Sirius Black x Reader

The last few weeks of summer we’re the longest and most brutal weeks of your life, and for the first time you felt you understood Sirius and how he became the lighthearted boy he portrayed daily at Hogwarts. When dealing with trauma, and Merlin his mother was traumatizing, people adapted in different ways. Never have you seen such polar reactions as you saw with Sirius and the dutiful Regulus. 

Sirius spent the first week you were living at Black Manor picking fight after fight with his mother. Not that she didn’t start her own plethora of ‘disagreements’. You could tell Sirius got something significant out of disobeying her and making her angry, much to your demise; as the woman began taking it out on you as well. She would nitpick you worse than your own grandmother. Sit up straight, ladies shouldn’t speak out of turn (Not that she didn’t do plenty of speaking), and most recently, a wife should know how to cook. So you spent hours of your day locked up with the awful Kreacher in the kitchen. 

After a conversation one evening in hushed voices, curled up under the covers he had apologized to you.

“I’m sorry about my mother,” 

“Sirius, it isn’t your fault,” You assured, playing with a loose string of his duvet. 

“I don’t help it,” He admitted, staring up at the ceiling. Your hands paused and you turned your head to look at him sadly. 

“Maybe not, but I can’t blame you either. She’s a witch, and I mean that as an insult. Like the Snow White kind.” Sirius turned to you making a face.

“What’s a Snow White?” You chuckled, shaking your head. 

“Oh nevermind, just.. God I know it’s easier said than done, but, try and ignore her? We’ll be back at Hogwarts in no time, away from her. And then my mother said next summer we will have our own home.” Sirius gazed at you for a moment before turning away to look at the ceiling again. He didn’t answer, though you gave him room to do so. Finally you stopped your fiddling with the string and reached over, taking his hand in yours and squeezing. 

“We’ll be alright.” You promised him as well as yourself. You had to be, you had no choice. Sirius squeezed your hand back and didn’t let it go for the rest of the night. Eventually silence ebbed into static breathing and light snores, and when the sun peeked through the window, you were still in bed, fast sleep, hands clasped. Sirius woke up first that morning and laid there for a while longer as you slept. He remembered his vows, that he would protect you, and that included from his own mother. If that meant becoming complacent in her demands for these next few weeks- that was something he was willing to do. For you. 

Finally the morning of September 11th, 1978 came, it was a cool morning for the end of summer, but sunny. You and Sirius were dropped promptly at Kings Cross station, receiving lectures on behavior. Sirius and his father shared a few words in private that left him scowling for a good majority of the morning, even after you had found Potter, Pettigrew, and Lupin in one of the train compartments. 

They eyed you funnily the entire train ride, and you did your best to ignore the gazes. Sirius had told you that he had told them about his wedding, but it was different now in person. 

“So is she going to be hanging out with us now? All the time?” James eyed you skeptically and you raised your eyes from your novel to narrow them at the boy. 

“She has ears, and is capable of responding to you herself.” Sirius glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. It was the closest you’d seen him to smiling since you boarded, and that fact was not lost on the other Marauders. 

“Are you going to be hanging around all the time now?” He asked, pouting slightly. James Potter could have received straight Os if being a git was a class at Hogwarts, but you knew he was also a sweet and caring boy, when he wasn’t being 17. You had a feeling he wasn’t keen on sharing his best mate, not that you blamed him. 

“James, she’s my wife now.” Sirius muttered, glancing out of the window. Potter made a face. 

“I know and it's weird.” You rolled your eyes, opening your book back up and slouching in your seat.

“And you think that is lost on us? We know it’s weird. We’re living it.” James looked ready to continue but Remus cleared his throat and gave him a warning look. A silent conversation you weren’t privy too took place between the two boys and James shrugged, going back to his Quidditch magazine. You finally reached the doors to the Great Hall hours later and Sirius turned to you.

“Sitting with us?” He asked, you looked past him to James and shook your head. 

“I think I’ve intruded on boy time quite enough for one day, I’m going to go find my dorm mates.” You admitted, James had the decency to look guiltily at his feet. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You hadn’t kissed since you were pronounced man and wife, but you had taken to holding hands in rare private moments you had gotten together. He reached out to you, allowing his hand to awkwardly drop onto your shoulder. He squeezed before letting go and you offered him a smile before turning to go find your friends, you had missed them. 

That night was the first night you had not eaten together in a month, and it was weird for you. You glanced down the table a few times, making eye contact with Sirius. When your eyes would meet he’d smile at you reassuringly, and you always returned it. Meanwhile, your friends gushed about how lucky you were, married to the most gorgeous, the most wanted man at Hogwarts. You didn’t feel very lucky, nor did you think they could understand. So you smiled and nodded, and laughed, like things were how they always were. But they were not. They never would be. 

When you entered the common room that night Sirius and his crew were already sitting in their seats closest to the fire, Sirius waved you towards him, but you were in the middle of a (dull) conversation with your friends about whose bum had gotten the fittest over the summer, so you shrugged, going to sit with them. About half an hour later someone approached your group and you looked up surprised to see Sirius. 

“Y/N,” He greeted you, and you smiled. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Your friends around you tried to stifle their giggles and hid smiles behind hands, something Sirius was used to, but for some reason, in that moment it bothered him. Were they laughing at him? Had you been laughing at him? 

“Can we talk for a mo?” He asked, and for a moment he almost looked nervous, but mostly he looked slightly ticked off. You frowned. What had you done? 

“Of course,” You nodded, getting up from the armchair you had been longing in. You followed Sirius silently through the common room, aware of his friend’s eyes on you as you went. You reached the corridor and he walked you a little further before sitting in an alcove. You sat with him. 

“Are you angry with me?” He asked so suddenly it took a moment to process, your frown deepened. 

“Merlin, no, should I be?” You asked, turning to face him, with your hands rested in your lap. He shrugged and wouldn’t look at you. “Have I done something to upset you, Sirius?” You asked gently. He shook his head no before shrugging. 

“Why were your friends laughing at me? Why didn’t you sit with me?” He asked, and you sighed, taking his hand gently in yours, causing him to look at you. 

“Because they think you’re cute,” You smiled slightly, nudging him, “And they think it’s brilliant I’ve gotten to marry you when half of Hogwarts would die to get ten minutes in a broom closet with you.” He smirked slightly, which made you feel better. That was the Sirius you knew. “And I didn’t sit with you because.. Because I am trying to give you space. This is new and scary. For both of us I’m sure. I don’t want you to feel like I’m smothering you, and I can tell James isn’t too keen on me, I don’t want him thinking I’m stealing his best mate.” 

“But were different. I’m not married to James.” You laughed at that,

“I wouldn’t tell him that.” You joked and Sirius let out a small chuckle himself. 

“You’re not smothering me. I... I enjoy you being around. I would like you to know my friends, they’re my real family after all.” You squeezed his hand again and he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. 

“I’ll sit with you lot more often then, just tell James to go easy on me. And don’t think I will be helping with any of your tomfoolery,” You chided jokingly, “My mother will have a cow,” 

“Well good thing I’m your husband, I’m in charge of you now,” He grinned and you used your free hand to whack him. 

“In charge of me?” You laughed, “Watch yourself, Black.” 

“Oh Black huh? Well you’re Mrs. Black.” You froze at that, and something truly haunting dawned on you. Tomorrow classes started. You were no longer Ms. Y/L/N... would your teachers be calling you Ms. Black? If the whole school didn’t already know by now, they certainly would tomorrow. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, resting your entwined hands in his lap. 

“I’m Mrs. Black,” You repeated, he nodded, not catching on. “Everyone will call me such.” 

“Does that upset you?” You shook your head. 

“No no, not upset. I mean, everything is just different now? Even my name.” 

“I don’t really fancy it either, don’t worry,” He joked, but you knew he was serious. “We can change it.”

“Sorry?” 

“When you graduate, when we move and have jobs we can change it- to whatever you’d like.” 

“I’m not sure your mother will allow that.” Sirius shook his head defiantly. 

“Once I, well now you I suppose, graduate, I have no intention of doing anything that old bat has to say.” He puffed his chest out slightly, putting on an air of confidence. Your head swum slightly. If that were the case, wouldn’t you simply divorce? “Y/N,” He continued, voice lower and more gentle. 

“Hm?” 

“It’s going to be weird sleeping alone tonight,” He admitted sheepishly, glancing at your hands, “I’ve gotten quite used to you, I admit.” You smiled at that, leaning against him. 

“I won’t miss the snoring,” 

“Oi, I don’t snore!” He laughed and you grinned nodding your head. 

“You do, love. But I will miss it too,” 

“Come visit?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows at you again, you whacked him once more. 

“No I think I’ll let you suffer, just for that.” 

“Evil.” 

“That’s me,” Sirius stood up, bringing you with him before releasing the hand he was holding to put his arm around your shoulder. 

“Come sit with us?” He questioned, “I promise James will be good.” You nodded, leaning into the boy's touch. 

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” You spent the rest of your night at Sirius’s side.

 James was civil but you could tell he still wasn’t fond of you or your newly added presence. From that moment forward you spent nearly all your time out of class with the group of boys. You found a friendship in Remus, he was a kind boy, with similar interests. You enjoyed studying together while the others mucked around, and you talked about literature together. Even James was coming around on you, though you two still bickered constantly. Sirius once called it “Sibling rivalry.” which made you laugh. But you could tell how fiercely James cared for Sirius, it made your heart feel warm, knowing he had people to look out for him. Even Peter wasn’t bad to be around, he was funny when he wasn’t being vulgar, though he loved making jokes about the fact that Sirius was now a married man and ‘on a leash,’. 

You didn’t feel like Sirius was on a leash, and certainly not your leash. You were married by your parents' request, not dating. If he wanted to go snog some slag he was more then welcome to. At least that was the lie you told yourself. Girls continued to throw themselves at Sirius, I guess a wedding ring didn’t mean much to them, and you were increasingly more surprised every time he politely turned them down. You began to relax more, maybe he wouldn’t? 

One evening you all sat in the boys dormitory. Peter was practicing chess, Remus was reading and taking notes. James was laying on his back at the foot of Sirius’s bed, you were sitting back against the boy’s pillows, as he was resting his head in your lap. Sirius and James were debating the validity of some prank they wanted to pull- whether they could pull it off or something like that. You weren’t paying attention, you were reading, occasionally running your fingers through the hair of the boy who was in your lap. 

“You’re making me sleepy,” He suddenly yawned, turning away from James and burying his face into your jumper. You smiled, not looking up from your reading. 

“So go to sleep,” 

“Get a room, you two.” James complained, whining from the bottom of the bed. 

“We’re in a room, you’re the one in my bed mate.” Sirius laughed, wrapping his arm around your middle and cuddling into you. As time past Sirius became more and more physically affectionate with you. Not that you minded, it was comforting having someone around whom you could simply touch. James huffed, dramatically getting off the bed, pulling the curtains shut with a great flourish. 

“Use a silencing charm for our sake!” He called.

“Piss off mate,” Sirius laughed and you chuckled slightly rolling your eyes. 

“He’s just jealous you don’t cuddle him like you used to.” James made an indignant noise from the other side of the curtain and you heard him stalk away to his own bed. You carded your fingers through Sirius’s hair for a few more moments before letting out a yawn of your own. 

“I should go to bed,” You murmured, hand stilling. Sirius let out a small whine and you smirked, gently tugging on one of his locks. 

“So go to bed,” He joked, mirroring your earlier words. You started to move and Sirius’s arms around you tightened, pulling you to him. “Here,” He asked and you sighed, patting his head. 

“And if we’re caught?” You questioned. 

“Live a little, love. Girls are always sneaking into the boys dorm for sleepovers, at least we’re married.” 

“I doubt McGonagall will care for that small difference.”

“Please?” Sirius asked, looking up at you through his lashes, batting them at you sweetly. You sighed, shaking your head. 

“Fine, you’re a bad influence one me, you know that?”

“That’s the kindest thing a woman has ever said to me,” He grinned, peeling himself from you to sit up, “I’ll get you something to sleep in.” You hummed softly. Sirius disappeared for a moment and came back with a t-shirt for you, handing it over. You watched from your position on his bed as he undressed himself, you felt your cheeks going rosy. Once Sirius was down to his boxers he crawled back into bed beside you, nudging you. “Get changed, I wanna cuddle,” He murmured to you and your blush deepened. You stood up, standing beside the bed and facing away from Sirius as you removed your jumper, pulling the shirt on over your head. It was plenty long on you. Next you removed your skirt, leaving your clothes in a pile beside his head. You turned back around and Sirius was watching you, his own small blush. “C’mere.” He offered you his hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you down to him. 

You situated the covers around you both before allowing the boy to snuggle up to your side, his head on your chest. You resumed your earlier activity of running your hands through his hair. 

“Thank you for staying,” He murmured and you smiled, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head before you could think about the action. 

“Of course.” 

“You’re welcome in my bed, anytime.” He promised and you rolled your eyes, gently tugging his hair again. 

“Don’t ruin the moment, arse.” He chuckled, tangling your legs together beneath the duvet. Sirius fell asleep to the sound of your heart beating firmly in your chest, it was the best lullaby he had ever heard. You played with his hair until his quiet snoring started before simply resting your hand on his head. It took you longer to fall asleep but you eventually did, enjoying the company of the other- you hadn’t realized how much you missed just sleeping with the boy. And this new found cuddling between the two of you really added to the whole experience. 

In the morning you were rudely awoken by James, who threw the curtain of your bed open with a scowl. 

“Are you wearing clothes?” He questioned, “I was kidding when I said to use a silencing charm, I don’t want you two shagging when I’m five feet away-”

“Mate,” Sirius groaned, rolling over, glaring at the boy, “Shut up,” James huffed, crossing his arm. 

“Y/N better get back to her dorm before all her roommates wake up and wonder where she’s been all night.” You groaned, stretching your arms over your head. 

“Thanks Jamie,”

“Don’t call me that!” He whined, shuffling away, you laughed as you untangled yourself from Sirius’s limbs, standing up. 

“Do you have to go?” He asked, frowning.

“I will see you at breakfast,” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor. Sirius frowned, flopping back onto the bed, crossing his arms. It made you laugh, god how he and James had grown to be alike over the years. Or maybe they found each other because they were already so alike.

 “Do you want to go on a date?” Sirius asked you one morning during breakfast, your mouth full of food. You raised an eyebrow at him as you swallowed. 

“Hm?”

“A date, Y/N.” Like that clarified anything. 

“Is there a Hogsmeade weekend coming up?” You questioned him and he grinned, shaking his head no. 

“So what, you want to go on a date in the common room?” You laughed, shaking your head at the boy, “Don’t we do that every night?” 

“Not the common room, I want to show you something.” You eyed him suspiciously and he flushed slightly laughing, “Not that, who's got a dirty mind now?”

“Still you mate,” Remus interrupted and Sirius shot him a glare, but he quickly recovered, grinning at you again. You weren’t sure you liked that look. 

“Sure,” 

“Brilliant, be ready tonight at 8pm, in the common room.” You nodded your head, continuing to eat. Whatever he was up to, you were sure you’d be finding out soon enough.  That night you got dressed, listening to advice from all your dorm mates.

“Wear a dress!”

“Let me do your makeup please!”

“No no wear the blue skirt with the cream jumper.”

“Do you think you’ll snog?” You shrugged helplessly, ignoring all of their advice and going with your favorite pair of jeans instead and a black and white striped jumper. 

“I hardly know.”

“I think it’s weird. You’re married but you don’t snog.” 

“They cuddle, that’s for sure.” You flushed slightly, rolling your eyes.

“We sorta skipped a bunch of steps. It’s hard. Our relationship is unique.” You tried to explain to them. You and Sirius didn’t have some play book you could look to to figure what you should be doing and when. You were all on your own in this, on your own; together.  You allowed your friend to apply a small amount of makeup to you, no more than you would wear any other day. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard- because you weren’t. You shouldn’t be. It’s not like you had to woo him or anything. Right?

You went down to the common room at 8 where Sirius was sitting with the boys waiting for you. 

“Y/N!” He called excitedly, jumping up from the sofa, “You ready to go?” He asked and you nodded, coming to him and accepting his outstretched hand. 

“Be good!” Remus called jokingly, waving from his spot in one of the armchairs. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” James added and Sirius threw them the finger over his shoulder before leading you from the common room. 

“So,” You started, skipping slightly beside him, grinning up at the boy, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, you’ll see.” You followed Sirius up to the 7th floor corridor and were met with an expanse of blank wall, you eyes him suspiciously. 

“Very nice, Sirius.” You put the hand not holding his on your hip. 

“Just watch!” He assured you excitedly, “Me and James found this place 5th year when we were running from Filch. Suddenly it was there,” You listened intently, still staring at the blank wall. Maybe you were missing something? “So we did some experiments, and I think we figured it out. Remus read about it in a book we nicked from the restricted section. Apparently it’s called the Room of Requirements, or the Come and Go Room.” You looked away from the wall up at Sirius, blinking at him. He smiled down at you, nodding towards the wall, when you looked back there was a door and you gasped. 

“How?”

“No idea,” He shrugged, “But it turns into whatever you need it to.” You looked at the door in awe. 

“Really?” You asked, shocked. 

“Yup, come on,” He tugged you forward, opening the door and ushering you in. Once you were inside you were met with a small room that closely resembled the Gryffindor common room, but maybe only one forth of the size. It had a sofa in front of a large roaring fire, there were candles lighting the rest of the room, and a few fluffy blankets sitting on the sofa. 

“This is lovely,” You breathed. He pulled you towards the sofa and you allowed him to guide you. He sat down and pulling you down beside him. You sat close to him and he placed his arm around your shoulder. You pulled one of the blankets off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around both of you, leaning into him. 

“Thank you,” He smiled, glad you liked it. It had taken him ages of brainstorming to decide what you both needed, for your first proper date. And in the end, he decided, simpler was probably better. You weren’t really one for grand gestures. 

“How are your classes,” He asked, playing with a lock of your hair, looking at you. You were warm from the fire, but your chest felt even warmer, something fire couldn’t cause. You shrugged, leaning slightly into his touch. 

“Alright, not as hard as your stuff I’m sure, but everyone’s making sure we’re preparing for the NEWTs already. It does my head in.”

“I’ve never asked you what you want to be when you graduate,” He tilted his head thoughtfully and you smiled slightly looking down. 

“I’d like to be a curse-breaker,” You admitted, Sirius nudged you until you looked at him. 

“That’s brilliant, you’ll do wonderfully.” You shrugged, flushing slightly at the complement.

“Maybe. I’m struggling with charms this year though.” 

“Is Remus helping you?” 

“Yes but still,” 

“You’re brilliant, Y/N.” He assured you, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled, leaning forward slightly to nuzzle your nose against his. “You can do anything you want to do, believe that.”

“I will try. What will you do? After you graduate.” Sirius hummed softly, and you cuddled even closer to him, practically sitting in the boys lap. 

“I want to be an Auror.” He spoke softly, “I want to save people, protect them. War is coming, Y/N. I want to make sure I am on the right side of history.” You took his free hand in yours and held it tightly. 

“That’s sweet, you’ll make a brilliant Auror.” Sirius smiled.

“James heard his parents talking about some... organization, they call themselves the Order of the Phoenix. I want to join as soon as I’ve graduated. Their goal is to be prepared for when Voldemort finally makes his move.” You nodded, trying to swallow down the worry you felt rising in your chest. You didn’t like the idea of Sirius out there battling dark powerful wizards without you there by his side. 

“Good,” You squeezed his hand tightly, “That’s good. You’re a good man.” 

“My mother will disown us, she supports those pure-blood ideologies.” He spat the words out and you flinched slightly. You didn’t want to think about what your own family thought of those horrible people. Especially not your father or your grandmother. 

“We’ll be alright.” You assured him. Sirius looked at you for a long moment and you smiled softly at him, nudging your nose against his again, “Alright?” 

“Alright.” He assured, “Y/N...” He started before trailing off. 

“Hm?”

“May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” You whispered, blushing slightly. Sirius smiled before leaning in, he didn’t have to go far before his lips were on your lips. He kissed you softly, his hand that was playing with your hair stilled, resting on the back of your neck to keep you close. You kept one hand in his and moved the other one to his chest, placing it over his heart. He broke the kiss and pulled back just far enough to look at you before his lips were on yours again, this time with more eagerness. He kissed you, lips smashed up against yours and you kissed back, moving your hand from his chest to wrap around him, pulling him closer. He parted his lips slightly, testing the water. You allowed your own lips to open as well, inviting him in. Sirius kissed you with emotion you were surprised were capable of being put into a simple kiss. Everyday Sirius surprised you more and more, and everyday you found yourself falling more and more in love with your husband. It might not have been traditional, or even preferred. But it was working, you were going to make it work. 

You spent the rest of the night alternating between speaking to each other in soft voices and snogging. It was the best, and last first date you had ever been on. Sirius was becoming you safe haven in a confusing world. He was becoming your new norm.

Tag list :  thebrigheststarinthesky ,  all-art-is-quite-useless ,  lindatreb ,  paosesposts 

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in a part three!