#finally a proper version of this song | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rubra-wav · 2 months

Note

I had this interesting scenario where Vox one day becomes exhausted from his rivalry with Alastor after realizing that the one-sided interactions were becoming old. He later meets the reader (who can also be a part of the hotel) who starts hacking into Voxtech's database to troll the company for shits and giggles. This catches Vox's attention and he's pissed about it. You can do what you want for the rest but they continue to have this rivalry to the point where it's very well known around hell. From an outside perspective, there is just back-and-forth angry banter but there are moments where they're just;

Reader: *appears on screen* Hey Box head, guess who found some good blackmail with your name on it- Vox: *Is so close to having a breakdown, he had a bad week.* Reader: Oh shit- did something happen, are you okay? 😰

They hate each other but they don't hate hate each other. This can be taken as platonic or romantic. I sent this request to someone else but I wanted to share anyway.

Vox x troll/hacker reader: Why So Blue? (Oneshot/concept version)

Why So Blue fic Masterlist

A/N me when I get to write Vox getting utterly humiliated by a troll-y hacker demon 🫶

I changed about the order of stuff as things happen a bit and took creative liberties with this one - sorry if it's really different then the thought you originally had.

(REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, THIS WAS FROM THE LAST TIME THEY WERE OPEN)

Update: This was really well-received, and several people have requested a part 2. I've decided that I will be writing it properly from the start in a proper chapter kind of way rather than in this format so it makes continuity kind of work better rather then the drabbl-y format used here.

Cw: SFW, romantic, enemy's to lovers type beat, references to one-sided radiostatic, also references to staticmoth, mildly suggestive in one part 💀, gn reader, mostly light-hearted - idk if it qualifies as quite hurt/comfort lmao

- It was just a normal morning for Vox when you first showed up.

- As usual, he booted up for the day, got changed out of his casual clothes, and made his morning coffee.

- As he walked into his computer room, absentmindedly sipping his coffee while looking at his phone, he sits down in his desk.

- Then promptly spits out his mouthful.

- When he finally looks up at the screens around him, he's mortified to see a muted video of himself passionately (and very drunkly) singing and dancing horribly from last night while he was out with Valentino and Velvette.

- Posted on Sinstagram from his own account.

- Hundreds of comments flooded in underneath it; laughing, saying it's cute, complimenting his singing, and talking about the caption underneath with curiosity.

- The caption reads; 'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here LMAO'

- Vox flips out instantly.

- It doesn't take long to take down the post, change all of his details, and post an official apology for his lack of professionalism with a hypnotising message to forget the whole incident occurred at all. He also does a massive comb over for any other breaches and changes all of his systems to be even more impenetrable to a potional attack.

- He calms down, and the incident fades away to the back of his mind.

- But then it happens again.

- Another morning, an employee is rushing into his studio as he wakes up properly, telling him this time that someone is somehow broadcasting Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' to the entirety of hell at 6 am, interrupting every one of the scheduled programs.

- There's a message in big letters on the bottom of every screen in hell, under the god forsaken video and song playing, saying, "What is love~? - U" Underneath them.

- And that's how it starts, the infuriating thorn in Vox's side that is 'U'. No matter how hard he tries, you're constantly undermining his efforts to keep you out of the system and tormenting him in ways that aren't necessarily malignant but are extremely damaging to his image as the overlord of technology.

- For some reason, he's the only Vee you seem hellbent on coming after as well. Vel finds your pranks funny or cute when they don't inconvenience her, and Valentino just likes to prod Vox into getting angrier further.

- He just cannot work out what your motivations are at all. Is it truly that you just want to piss him off? He doesn't understand why someone with such clear skills would simply use them to taunt him and leave him messages to unveil as he undoes whatever you do.

- It vexes him even farther when these messages from you that you leave for him to decode start to sound borderline flirtatious, which makes him feel all the more humiliated.

- He is a grown demon, skilled businessman and entrepreneur, an overlord, and yet you insist upon calling him things like Box, Boxbabe, Boxbitch, and even babygirl of all things for some goddamn reason.

- The back and forth goes on for months, and 'U' quickly becomes a long lasting meme, several people, much to Vox's horror, shipping you two together and even partaking in ship wars as to whether Vox x 'U' is better then Vox x Val.

- Theres one day where Vox quickly puts his phone down after reading a rather concerning expert from what is certainly explicit fanfiction between the two of you, even him deciding that that's enough internet for today while just sitting staring off into space silently for a solid 10 seconds.

- Vox's sleepless nights pouring over his code to try and keep out your attacks, him glitching out whenever he finds infuriating messages left by you, etc. Begin to become routine and he just anticipates the consistent blows to his pride you give him at every turn.

- A weird, unconscious part of him deep down begins to enjoy your rivalry, almost wanting to see what punches you pull out next to disarm his constant losing battle to keep you out, but it gets squashed down the second he becomes aware of it.

- The rivalry is always at arms length, but sometimes he has to stop himself from replying with the same vaguely flirtatious tone you take on whenever he experiences a small win against you.

- He fights to make sure he doesn't have any potential of getting too into it.

- Things take a different turn, though, with the double blow of Alastor coming back and his on-off relationship with Valentino once again going up in flames.

- After stopping his usual monitoring of all things going on in hell online and in real life as picked up by his cameras, he presses his face into his hands with a long, exhausted groan as he fights crying.

- All the people he was actually interested in were as unrequited as per usual. He always tried so hard with Alastor, but as always, he never got anything but met with the clear reminder they would never be anything more.

- And, of course, any potential of anything more happening with Val was completely off the table. It would be stupid to even think about anything real with him.

- He shut his eyes, putting his screen on the desk in front of him.

- Was he just not worth it? Was that it?

- He startled when he heard the familiar crackle of the speakers coming to life around him. It was rare he ever heard your voice coming through his speakers, you usually preferring to just leave messages, however you decided to surprise him tonight apparently.

- Your blurred out face appears on the screens, only showing the lower half of your grinning face.

- "Oh Boooooxybooooy! I found some world-shattering cringey shit you did 2 months back, i-" You begin singing out, before stopping, seeing by his expression.

- Vox was trembling, looking as if he was about fall apart at any second. His monitor was dulled, red eyes half lidded with pixelated bags forming under them, his bottom lip slightly quivering around his sharp teeth.

- "What the- fuck- ....are you alright?" You asked unsurely.

- Vox finally snapped out of it, realising that you were here witnessing him in a way that was very much not something he wanted you of all people to see him in. His mask slid back on, but it was hardly convincing.

- "Of course it is. What the fuck do you wa-ant. I've got shit to do." He inwardly cursed as his voice glitched slightly. God fucking dammit why did you have to show up.

- He watched your lips on your mostly blurred out face slightly curl as you hummed, clearly not buying it.

- "You wanna stop with the lying bullshit and tell me the truth, Boxhead?" You somewhat chided him, your hand coming into sight as you leaned your cheek onto it. Vox let out a growling sound, going to spit some vitriol at you, but was cut off as you absentmindedly made your next comment.

"Felt you once again have a fit about the radio demon going online. Lights in my house and the houses out my windows started flashing and shit. Is it hi-" your brows shot up and eyes widened, this hidden behind the censorship as you watched Vox, leader of the Vees, your rival, let out a shuddering breath and actually start crying comically pixilated tears right before your eyes.

- Vox's claws gripped into his desk as he grit his teeth as he let out a gasping breath he fought to stifle. He was so goddamn exhausted that he just couldn't be assed to keep it all up anymore. It wasn't like you hadn't seen rather unsavoury things he'd been trying to hide anyways.

- "No shit it's about Alastor. It's always about him. Does it get you off knowing I can't get with the guy I have always wanted no matter how hard I try? There. Are you fucking happy now?" His voice cracks as he snarls the words out at you.

- You let out a long humming sound, as if thinking. "I mean, not really. I'd only be happy if you were this upset over me, not some old hazbin radio announcer who fell off years ago." You shrug with a slightly sad smile.

- Vox squinted at you, confused.

- "I mean, come on, I'm your rival too. Why neglect me so much in all this?" You press your bottom lip out in mock sadness, tone mocking again. Your words are true despite the joking tone however, it did bother you that he always seemed so much more ready to go running after the most obviously aroace man you think you had seen in your entire fucking life.

- Vox couldn't believe what he was hearing, hot embarrassment caused his monitor to start heating up a bit, painting animated flush over his cheeks. "Oh, stop taking the piss, U. Fuck off." He scoffed, rolling his eyes, looking to the side in irritation.

- You chuckle at him, shaking your head and causing the thing blurring your face to shake with it. "Is it really that hard to believe I'm into what we have going on here?" Your voice is still lined with the usual tone you take on with him, but much less so.

- Vox looks back at your blurred, smiling face incredulously. "Yes." He growled, blinking his tears away as he regained his composure a bit.

- You sigh heavily, rolling your eyes. "Ooookay, well, once you're done riding the coattails of a man who will never want you, come hit me up, Boxhead." You say through smiling lips, before abruptly pressing 'hang up' on the call so he didn't have time to actually respond.

- Vox sat in bewildered silence, not able to react properly as his brain felt as if it was working on low resolution comprehending what you just said.

- His face heated up the more he thought about it, heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he laughed in disbelief. No way. No fucking way.

- But you had said it.

- Despite his usual pessimistic nature, he allowed himself to actually believe it, chuckling.

- He looked over to his phone as a notification sound rang out to see a photo of himself presumably just now; flustered, eyes wide in disbelief and unfocused while staring off into space, a crooked grin on his face.

- It was captioned as follows; 'POV: local pathetic radio simp finds out other rival actually wants him'

- "FUCK." He yelled out in embarrassment, knocking out several of his monitors with a surge of electricity.

I loved writing this sm omfggg.

There's definitely part 2 potential to this one, but it would have to be in a while w all the other stuff I'm gonna get to first.

Masterlist

#vox #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

386 notes · View notes

straykeedz · 6 months

Text

i should be getting ready to go to bed since i have classes early in the morning, and i definitely shouldn’t be thinking about

dad!changbin

who would be utterly in love with his child from the second he finds out you’re expecting a mini version of you and him. he’d cry when you announce him you’re pregnant, handing him a small box containing two positive tests and an ultrasound;

and no, i’m not talking about teary eyes and pouty lips, i’m talking proper sobbing as he envelops you in a heartfelt hug and cries tears of pure happiness and joy because his dream is finally coming true - a family with you;

he would be next to you 25/8, never leaving your side, making sure you’re feeling alright and that everything’s okay with you and the baby. he’d have his hands on your belly all the time, and when he’s not touching it, he’s kissing it, whispering sweet words to the baby growing inside of you, a baby he can’t wait to meet;

he’d talk to the baby all the time, i’m sure of it. telling it about his day, or the new song he’s producing these days - a very special song about a very special someone he hasn’t met yet, but whom he already loves with his whole heart.

he’d keep the very first ultrasound inside his wallet, and when he’s taking a break from rehearsal or recording sessions or dance practices he’d pull it out to look at it, smiling like an idiot;

he’d treat you like a queen. he already does, of course, being the gentleman he is - but if you’re pregnant with a child? you’re not lifting a finger inside the house. he’s doing everything: the cleaning, the cooking, the dusting, everything. and don’t you even think about protesting or trying to do the house chores anyways, are you kidding?;

and he cries so, so much when he hears the heartbeat of your baby for the first time…;

don’t even get me started on him feeling the baby kick for the first time! he’d get so excited and would desperately try to make your baby kick again and again and again and again until - “binnie, sweetie, it’s two am. please leave the baby alone so we can get some rest.” but would definitely try again in the morning;

at first - he wouldn’t want to find out if you’re expecting a boy or a girl, he doesn’t really care. all that matters to him is that the baby is healthy - that the both of you are healthy, that’s the most important thing to him;

but when the doctor accidentally reveals that you’re expecting a girl… here come the waterworks. he would’ve cried either way, let’s be real, but a little girl? a mini version of you?;

he’d start thinking of the perfect name as soon as you find out the sex. hell, he’d start buying toys and plushies and clothes for your baby girl - you’d have to threaten him to block his credit card after he comes home with two huge bags full of stuff for the baby;

and let’s be real he’d definitely bring home a giant dwaekki plushie so that your little girl could fall asleep next to it cuddling it once she’s born;

they’d be the best nine months of his life, for real. but when you’re in labor and about to deliver the baby? that’s when his anxiety and his insecurities would kick in - what if he won’t be a good father? he doesn’t know how to be one after all, so what if he messes up? what if he can’t be enough for the both of you?;

but all of his worries would instantly vanish when his eyes would meet those of his baby girl. she has his eyes, big and playful, staring right into his soul as he feels something he’s never felt before, a love that fills all of his heart and soul, a love that makes him complete;

you’d have to hug him and pat his back and dry his tears for literal hours after your baby girl says her first word - “appa”;

he’d be your baby girl’s best friend and partner in crime, i’m sure of that. you’d come back home and find the living room turned upside down, toys scattered all over the floor and a blanket fort built with the cushions of your couch, but you can’t mad when you notice the loves of your life asleep on the fluffy carpet, both dressed up as princesses, with little crowns and tutus and everything, as a disney cartoon plays in the background?;

and when your little girl suddenly shows interest in playing basketball? changbin would literally run to the store and buy a mini hoop the next day and play with her. and definitely give you the side-eye and pout at you when you’d make a silly comment about how “now this is a hoop that matches your height”, but he’d let it slide, because if there’s someone who can make fun of him it’s you - he knows you don’t mean it anyway;

he’d let his baby girl paint his nails any color she wants, or let her braid and style his hair - more like pull it until tears fall from his eyes, but how could he get mad at her once he notices her satisfied expression once she’s done putting unicorn bobby pins in his hair?;

and he’d try his best to learn how to braid your daughter’s hair, but no matter how effort he puts into it, he’ll never be as good as you. a messy braid is the result of an experiment which involved three broken hair ties (don’t ask) and a youtube tutorial - and for a second there he’s scared she’s going to burst into tears once she sees the final look. instead, she smiles at him, and then hugs him as tight as she can, saying that he’s “the best appa”. and changbin is the one who bursts into tears;

he’s “the best appa” also when he buys your daughter the dinosaur plushie she wanted so bad;

and his heart would break when he’d pick up his baby at kindergarten the one day and sees her cry, teardrops running down her beautiful, puffy cheeks. all because of a little boy who made fun of her for having a dinosaur toy instead of a doll. and changbin would explain to her that “there’s nothing wrong with liking dinosaurs more than dolls”, and would giggle when her daughter would calmly explain that “but i like playing with dolls too, appa”. so, at the next tea party, changbin would be sitting between the t-rex plushie and a barbie;

one day, he’d be helping you carrying the groceries inside when he’d notice a blue box peeking from inside the bag. you’d try to hide it as quickly as possible once you start sorting the groceries out, but you’re not quick enough. “is this what i think it is?” he’d ask. and you’d sigh, handing him the small carton box. a pregnancy test. “is- are you- are we?” his brain would short-circuit. you’d tell him that you don’t know, you aren’t 100% sure, but your period’s late;

and he’d ask you to take it immediately, heart hammering inside his chest. part of him is incredibly thrilled, another part of him is terribly scared. but happiness is the feeling that prevails in his heart;

three minutes later, two lines show up on the white plastic stick, but he doesn’t cry. not yet. what he does, is run to the closest convenience store and buy four more tests. all positive;

only then, he’d cry. so hard that his daughter would come up to him, concerned, pull him by the t-shirt and ask him “what’s wrong, appa? are you sad?” and he’d kneel down before your daughter, drying his own tears as he shakes his head and tells her that “no, appa’s not sad. appa’s happy, because you’re going to be a big sister.”;

crying as well, you’d also kneel down next to them, and changbin would pull the two of you in a tight - but not too tight - hug, then kiss you and your daughter on top of your heads as he repeats that “i love you so much.” over and over and over and over again.

yeah, i think i’ll go outside and touch some grass after this 🥹

-> don’t forget to reblog if you like my works; “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said. ♡

667 notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 7 months

Text

is it over now? | c16

Description: You reminisce about a relationship that was never meant to be. Charles moves on - but you stay there.

Pairing: charles leclerc/short!reader

(not really that short, more like 4'11 - 5'3)

yournamelovely: 1989 (Taylor's Version) is out now! I had so much fun being the only feature in the remastered album. Please listen to 'Is It Over Now?' 💙🦋 Thank you for this beautiful opportunity Tay!

liked by 2,382,012 others

>comments

theraindrops4: I'm so proud of you 😭

taylorswift: 💙

nickdevries: Don't forget us when you're famous. - yournamelovely: Who are you again??

There were many different ways to get over a breakup; some of them included healing, traveling and finding yourself - but how could you get over Charles fucking Leclerc? He was everything that you wanted in a man - dimpled cheeks, monegasque accent, and a perfect family that you adored. He was everything you needed.

When he decided to call things off three months ago. You haven't been the same. "Congrats on your new song with Taylor! I listened to it and I can't believe you both kept it hidden for 6 years?" Selena chuckled while handing you one of Taylor's famous mocktails.

"It was supposed to be in my debut album - but it didn't make sense. Now, I think - it makes absolute sense." you chuckled, staring off to the side. Yep, Charles' new fling was a Slovakian model - who by all means, looked beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. How could anyone hate an angel?

"Oh come on, we have to catch up soon. You still haven't told me about the thing with Charles." Blake's eyes narrowed, she leaned on the door-frame - eyes trailing back and forth between you and her kids that were running around the backyard. "What is there left to say? Our relationship was amazing - it ended and we're going in separate ways." you simplified, leaning on the chair.

Blake took a deep breath, finally settling down in between Selena and Ryan. "I always thought that you'd end up together," she admitted - although she sooner realized that it wasn't the proper thing to say. "Charles, ending up with someone? He's not the guy that dreams about marriage. Maybe in another life, I'll want something less." you looked in the deep horizon.

"Maybe it was for the better that things ended - you obviously didn't agree on big things. You deserve to be happier." Ryan butted in the conversation, sensing that you were in deep thought. "I guess," you agreed with a hum.

yournamelovely: quickie mart mwahaha

liked by nickdevries and 1,239,120 others

>comments

yournamelover: WHAT IS THIS HUMOR? HAHAHA

charlos92: please get back with charles

destinyshanggggee: I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EIGHTER

olenna_markiz: Congratulations lovie! @Charles_Leclerc

liked by 81,203 others

>comments

hollyshit2: YOU LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

bolld6: the look of pure love omg

charlesandy/nforever: real eyes realize that she was the one ...

liked by 712 others

>comments

derivativeofx: The way that he threw it all away 😭

leftovers8: WE NEED AN EXPLAINATION

yournameleclerc: huhuhuhu

You thought that having the internet hate Charles' new girlfriend would make you feel better - but it honestly made you feel worst. The entire fucking world fucking hates her, thinks that she's better than you - but it wouldn't change the fact that he chose her. It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't blame her.

You would risk the world for Olenna Markiz too.

"There has been a flurry of hate in social media directed towards your past relationship and his new girlfriend. What do you have to say about that?" the interviewer cornered you. The grip on your hoodie tightened - you wanted to buy food, but the Paps found you. "This is about Charles and Olenna, right? I'll be blunt - our relationship did end on a sour note but it's not an excuse to be mean towards her."

"- at the end of the day, we're separately happy. Please stop making rumors about us or about her. Especially her - because umm she wasn't the reason for our breakup. Judging from the posts I see on social media, they're really in love. I wish nothing but the best for them." you smiled bitterly, walking away as your manager suddenly rushes to your side.

ynandcharlesuniverse: 1 year ago, (Your Name) wrote 'Timeless' for Charles Leclerc. I believe that we were supposed to find this, cuz even in a different life you still would've been mine.

liked by 827 others

comments have been restricted.

Charles_Leclerc: With the beautiful girl 💞

liked by yournamelovely and 1,283,930 others

>comments

romanempire3: beautiful pair omgg

carlandodestroyer: OLENNA MARKIZ IS LITERALLY MOMMY

obladioblada: does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night...

yournamelovely: World Tour EP ... featuring three songs: lacy, nonsense and vicious.

liked by 3,283,012 others

>comments

nickdevries: LACY >>>

danielricciardo: LACY >>>

chickenpozes34: WE ARE FED

"Hey!" you waved at the girl beside you.

It was a charity gala - benefiting the orphans of Europe. To your surprise, you were seated beside Olenna Markiz. The girl's shadow seemed to haunt you all the way to Texas. "Hi, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm such a big fan," she gives you a firm handshake.

There was cautiousness in her posture - like she was trying to determine if you were nice or bad. "Likewise, I love your work with Bottega and Mugler." you named, oblivious to the cameras that were pointed in your direction. "Really? Not a lot of people recognize me, to them we're just girls wearing clothes." she chuckled.

"It's hard to be a woman in this economy, but I assure you - there are lots of people who know how to appreciate art." you complimented. It was your dream to be a model - ever since you were little, you were always fascinated with supermodels. Alas, God didn't grant you with the suitable height required. "I just hope that I meet them soon enough," she whispered to herself, before returning her attention to the man on the stage.

Olenna didn't know what to expect with her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. A lot of people in reddit spoke about her bluntness, that she was unapologetically human - often lashing out in her childhood star years. There weren't a lot of posts to go along. His ex valued her privacy, rarely even attended any interviews.

To her surprise, she was pleasant company. Often making jokes that she understood and found hilarious. It was easy falling in love with (Your Name) (Last Name), what Olenna couldn't understand was how Charles fell out of love. "It was nice hanging out with you, maybe we could grab some coffee in the future?" she offered, a foot inside her luxury car. "Sure, I'll give your agent my number." Lena agreed.

Happy to have made a friend.

LET'S NOT PIT WOMEN AGAINST EACH OTHER

WILL FOREVER BE A GIRL'S GIRL

#charles leclerc x reader #c16 #charles leclerc imagines #formula one imagines #formula one fanfic

537 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 8 months

Text

@holyangelstudentuniverse requested the following: Steve working at Bath & Body Works while Eddie is the mall pianist?

I love it omfg, your brain is fantastic I hope I did the idea justice

(if you see any typos no you didn't <3)

The old food court pianist was...okay. Technically, she was good; she knew how to play and rarely made mistakes. She was also clearly just there for the bi-weekly check (not that Steve can blame her), and her playing reflected that. The piano became the ideal white noise, loud enough to lessen the awkwardness of any silence but not so amazing that people couldn't ignore it in favor of conversing with each other.

The new food court pianist? He's a fucking enigma.

He's very clearly skilled, and he seems to actually enjoy the job. He plays like Billy Joel and Elton John met one night, had a piano contest, and then had a baby to create the perfect pianist. He's great and energetic and can play anything from Mozart to fucking Cardi B, and Steve wishes he'd quit already so he can actually focus on his own shitty mall job instead of getting absorbed in the guy's playing.

"You should just hook up with him," Robin says one day, hip-checking Steve as she passes by with a box of Cherry Blossom products. She restocks the soap bottles first, then the perfume, then the lotions, and finally the tiny hand sanitizers with their shitty little plastic flip-caps that Steve swears break for the fucking fun of it.

Steve, meanwhile, is replacing last week's sales signs with new ones. They're the exact same. They rarely change, actually. The only difference is the "expiration" date at the bottom, which changes if only to continually sell customers that sense of urgency that results in them buying $50 worth of products they'll forget about until the holidays come around and they need white elephant gifts.

He's almost done, too. All that's left are the signs by the metal gate pulled down over the store's entrance. They'll open it in about an hour to prepare for the mall's opening, but for now, it's staying down to discourage the mini-bodega clerk in the middle of the hall from flirting with Robin and trying to sell her shitty perfume like she can't just steal shitty perfume from Bed Bath and Beyond at the end of the day.

He waits until after he's switched the sign to turn around, arms crossed over his chest. His back is to the gate, and Steve would normally be too fucking paranoid about a blind spot to withstand it, but he's in argument mode.

"I barely know the guy," he says.

Robin snorts as she crouches, stocking extra hand sanitizers in the tiny drawers at the bottom of the shelf. "Yeah, but I know you, dingus," she says, her voice light and bouncing. "You hear the guy's muzak version of a Lil Nas X song and you're ready to marry the guy."

"I can just recognize artistic ability! Have you ever tried to make a pop song sound like a classic?" he asks.

"My point," Robin says, pushing some hair out of her face, "is that you should ask him out. Maybe you two can play piano together."

If she hadn't already heard it before, Steve would be immediately launching into an explanation of why that wouldn't work. Steve has never met someone he liked or trusted enough to actually play with them. Sure, he's tried playing with a partner before if only to say he gave it a shot, but it sucks. Especially when you don't like the person. You're squished together on an uncomfortable bench, sharing sheet music, elbows bumping as you both try to reach the proper keys to keep the song from sounding horrendous. It's Steve's personal version of hell on earth.

But Robin has heard that rant before, so Steve graciously spares her from hearing it again. For now. Until he's drunk, probably.

"What, I'm just gonna waltz up to the piano and ask if he's free on Saturday? Or, I don't know, try some dumb pick-up line like asking if he comes here often?"

"I'll be honest, it's not the worst pick-up line I've heard."

Steve and Robin jump, both whipping their head to look at the grate to see the food court pianist grinning at them (well, more specifically, he's grinning at Steve) from the other side. He's wearing a button-down black shirt with ripped skinny jeans, old Converse, and more accessories than Steve can count. There are chains on his jeans and a guitar pick hanging from his neck and an ear cuff and a stud through the edge of his eyebrow and so many chunky rings that Steve could use as an excuse to stare at his hands for an hour.

Robin is the one who breaks out of the shock first. She jumps to her feet and walks over to Steve, resting her arm on his shoulder and leaning against him. "But would it work?" she asks.

The guy grins wider, obviously looking Steve up and down to check him out before looking at Robin. "From Stevie here? Yeah. He's really rocking the apron," Eddie replies, winking at Steve.

Steve is about to ask how the guy knows his name, but then he remembers the name badge on his apron. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away to glance down at Robin.

She seems to be having the time of her life right now.

"Well, uh, I'd prefer to know your name before trying any pickup lines," he says.

"Eddie Munson at your service," Eddie says, bowing to Steve with a dramatic flourish that he finds more endearing than anything else.

One look at Robin and her scrunched nose tells him she thinks it's a little over-the-top and, dare he say, cringe. Her opinion doesn't actually matter, though, since she'd be down bad for any girl that curtseyed at her.

Steve looks back at Eddie, noting the now expectant gleam in his eyes. He can't help an amused smile as he says, "Well then, Eddie," Steve says, stressing his name a little just for the fun of it, "come here often?"

Robin groans next to him. "Fucking hell, Steve," she mutters, slapping him upside the head. "I know you suck at flirting but you really couldn't come up with something better?"

"No, no," Eddie tells her, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm into it."

"And I'm out of it," Robin says, raising her hands in surrender before scurrying back to her Cherry Blossom products.

She's definitely still listening, though.

Steve rolls his eyes are her reaction and focuses back on Eddie. "So, uh, are you free on Saturday?" he asks.

"Completely free," Eddie says, taking a step closer to the gate and shoving his hands into his pockets. "How about lunch?"

"Yeah, I know a great pizza place."

"It's a date then," Eddie replies, winking at Steve. "By the way, any song requests?"

Steve blinks and thinks for a minute before asking, "Do you know Vienna?"

Eddie's grin tells Steve that he does, in fact, know Vienna. "Vienna it is." With that, he winks at Steve once more before heading back to the food court.

"That was painful," Robin says once he's far away enough.

Steve rolls his eyes and flips her off. "You're just jealous I've got a date and you're still too chicken shit to approach the Nike girl."

Robin practically squawks at him. "Oh, fuck you," she says.

"I'll leave that to Eddie, thanks," Steve says, laughing when Robin gags.

#steddie #steddie fic #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #lovingly gonna call this one the BBB Mall AU #steddie request #my writing #thanks for the idea btw i fucking love it hfjkds

442 notes · View notes

mokulule · 1 year

Text

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

#dead on main #poor Jason has no idea how to act #when he's not perpetually angry #also he just really wants a hug from his dad #but that would be WEIRD #bruce is a good dad #Missed connections #Jason is catnip to Danny #thought sadly no Danny this snippet #probably next time though

1K notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

Note

Hi!! I’m your friendly neighborhood Swiftie BEGGING you for Eddie - Sparks Fly

sparks fly (eddie's version)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff. mutual pining. the works. <3

wc: 2.1k+

a/n: this one got mad cheesy. maybe a little too cheesy. idc. i had fun with it.

“You know, one of these days, you’re gonna have to talk to Ed,” the older bartender, Phil, muses as he wipes down the counter behind you.

You hardly hear him over the current symphony of electric guitars, riveting bass, and crashing drums filling the Hideout. You had one focus tonight, just as you did every Tuesday and Friday night, and that was the band on the stage currently commanding an even larger audience than last week.

You’d seen it coming. Building crowds, more buzzing conversations around town in hushed tones about the band that owned the stage of the hole in the wall. You’d stumbled upon them by accident, coming in and telling yourself you were just grabbing one drink after a particularly rough shift. But one drink immediately turned into four that night when the band had taken the stage, playing song after song, keeping you glued to that bar stool and completely enamored with one particular boy on stage.

Eddie Munson.

Every time you watch him command that stage, wild hair and vibrant eyes, it’s like the first time all over again. You can’t get over his wicked grin, the way he puts his entire self into each performance, the rasp of his voice – you’re down bad for a man you’ve never even properly spoken to.

By some miracle, you tear your eyes from the stage, swiveling to face Phil, “Excuse me?”

“Ed. You know, Eddie,” he repeats himself, leaning both palms on the bar, “He notices you, you know? Always asks me where you ran off to after their set’s done.”

Your heart is suddenly in your throat, embarrassment red hot in the pit of your stomach, “H-He notices me? Why would he notice me?”

“You’re at every show. Even before they started getting a proper crowd. The damn boy hasn’t shut up about you since that first night,” Phil pauses to hand off a beer to another patron wordlessly, “You’re lucky you pay with cash and not card, or I’m sure he would’ve tracked you down outside of here by now. Calls you his Cinderella.”

Like a clock chiming midnight, the final tinny note of the set rings through the bar, and you can hear that rasp of Eddie’s voice booming through the speakers.

“We have been Corroded Coffin! Thank you very fucking much!”

And just like clockwork, you’re rushing to dig into your purse, yanking a twenty from your wallet and smacking it onto the bar before grabbing your drink to down the last of it.

“I’m not Cinderella,” you choke out over the residual burn of the alcohol, face still scrunched up as you glance over your shoulder to see the boys have already left the stage, “I just like the music.”

“The music,” he hums, “Right. Well, your money’s no good here tonight, little miss Cindy,” he reaches out, and with a singular fingertip, pushes the cash back towards you over the sticky wood. When your mouth opens and closes in confusion, Phil’s eyes flicker up towards the side door beside the stage where a commotion has begun, signaling that the band is coming out, “It seems the music likes you, too. So much so that he demanded I add your drinks to his tab tonight.”

The coals of embarrassment burn even brighter, igniting you from the inside out. Your hand flies out, grabbing back the twenty and shoving it aimlessly in your purse. You keep looking back at the crowd, catching glimpses of dark curls over the small sea of people singing their praises, watching your seconds run out in real time. It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to the man who has had you captivated for several months now; you were just mortified that he’d noticed you in that crowd, noticed the way you attended each show.

One of these days you’d talk to him. But tonight, you had no bravery left for such boldness.

“You’re gonna have to leave behind a glass slipper for the boy eventually,” Phil only chuckles, watching you fumble to clasp your purse before you shoot up from the stool, “Hey, hold on-”

“Another night, Phil!” you call out, not even looking back as you make a beeline for the bar’s exit.

If you had, you would have seen your favorite ring that Phil was holding up, the one that you had taken off your finger to fiddle with endlessly before sitting it down at some point without thought, now left behind like some kind of glass slipper.

—

You were late. It was Friday night, the day had been a nightmare, and you were fucking late to Corroded Coffin’s show.

Your attendance had never faltered like this before. You were always right on time, sometimes five minutes early once the crowds doubled in size in order to secure one of your regular seats.

The deviation from your routine has you reeling, amongst other things. Your Friday had simply been shit. A nonstop rampant attack on your sanity, one thing after another testing what was left of your patience. You’d slept through your first two alarms this morning, you hadn’t realized you were out of coffee creamer until you’d grabbed the scarily light container of it this morning, you had to take a dreadfully cold shower rather than waste precious minutes letting the water warm, you’d worked through your lunch to clean up a mess made by your coworker – the list goes on and on.

You burst through the entrance of the Hideout, probably looking a bit crazed, stopping dead in your tracks when you realize two things.

One, It’s fairly empty. And two, Corroded Coffin is not on the stage.

“Look who decided to show!” Phil calls from his place behind the bar, waving dramatically to you, “Cinderella!”

“Phil, for the last time, I’m not-”

“Your favorite band canceled tonight, I’m afraid,” he bulldozes right over your retort as you approach one of your usual stools.

Your brows furrow, “Canceled? Is everything okay?”

Phil’s mouth opens. But it’s not his voice that answers you.

“Gareth’s sick.”

A voice you’d only heard on the stage, through crackling speakers and enthusiastic addresses to a crowd. A voice you had never heard one-on-one, and for good reason.

Your breath escapes you as you turn slowly, facing the man you’d managed to elude for months now.

“Pardon?” you squeak out, voice hardly audible.

Eddie still grins shyly, hearing you loud and clear due to how uncharacteristically quiet the bar is tonight, “Our drummer, Gareth – he’s, uh, sick. Sorry to disappoint.”

He’s just as captivating up close as he is on the stage. There’s still something wild in him, something electrifying that he seems completely unaware of.

“Don’t apologize,” you’re still whispering, internally cursing yourself for it. You probably look ridiculous right now; you can only picture your starry eyes and parted lips, looking at him with palpable shock, hardly able to utter a word, “I- I’m not disappointed. There’ll be other shows!” you stammer your way through your words, and when Eddie only continues to look at you with gentle amusement, the softest ripple of possible nerves from the way his hands shoved into his pockets, you continue to over explain yourself, rambling on, “I just- I, uh, hope he feels better.”

“Yeah, me too,” he nods in agreement before he buries his hands even deeper. Suddenly, as if he’s found something in those pockets, his face lights up in delight, “Oh! Hey, I-” his left hand pulls out of his pocket at lightning speed, still curled into a fist as he thrusts it into your direction, “I think this might be yours.”

Slowly, he unfurls his fingers, and in the center of his palm rests your ring. You had assumed it was lost to the fire, that it might have fallen off at work or outside your apartment, never to be found again. Just another thing to add to your checklist of things gone wrong.

And yet there it was, like a perfect glass slipper, right in the palm of Eddie’s hand.

Your nerves are all but forgotten as you get giddy, reaching out without thinking to take the ring from him. A gentle brush of your fingertips against this palm, and you swear you feel sparks flying from the minimal contact, “Oh! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I-” you slip it on easily, smiling widely before you look up at him gleefully, “I thought I’d lost it for good. Thank you.”

Eddie turns bashful, tilting down his chin and letting stray curls fall in his face that half hide his own contained grin. If the lighting in the bar had been better, you would have caught the pink spreading across his cheeks.

“And so the prince finally meets his Cinderella,” Phil mutters from behind the two of you before he suddenly smacks his palms on the countertop, “Alright! Well, if you two will excuse me, I have to…. Do some stock count in the back,” a blatant lie, “Don’t burn the place down, yeah?”

Eddie snaps out of his daze to look up to the older man, mock saluting him in a way that has an involuntary giggle leaving your lips. In an instant, he’s looking back down to you, almost surprised at the sound.

Cheap bar lighting can no longer hide his blush. Or your own adoration.

“The bar is yours! Make good decisions!” Phil continues to shout as he moves to the backroom, voice fading with each step.

Finally, you and Eddie are alone.

“And then there were two,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, finding something brave in him at the way you’re looking up at him in reverie.

The rockstar that had been enchanting you for months from a distance. The man who had been occupying all your thoughts far too much for having been a stranger.

This is your chance. No more hiding at the back of the bar, only admiring him with the safety of a crowd between you two. No more wondering, no more imagining, no more pining. Time stands still, not a single clock daring to strike midnight as the electric currents between you two come to a rise.

“Say,” you say right when he looks to be preparing himself to speak first. It’s time to be bold, take a risk, no matter the costs. “Do you… Do you want to grab a drink?”

His wicked grin is even better right in front of you, directed at you, “Well, he did say the bar is ours. What’s your poison?”

“Jack and coke?”

He shrugs, still a vibrant fool, like a schoolgirl with a crush, “I’ve been known to have a heavy hand with the jack, but… I think I can manage that.”

Electrifying, pulsing, the beginning of something new. You can see it now – the way you’re going to cling to his arm when he makes you laugh so hard you nearly fall off your chair, the way he’ll be able to charm you better over a jack and coke than he ever had been able to from behind a guitar, the way those eyes scream trouble. And yet at the end of the night, you know he’ll still walk you to your car through the empty parking lot. He’ll probably use the excuse of the bad weather looming overhead. When the sky finally breaks open and the first drops of rain fall, neither of you will be brave enough to admit what you both already know. Tonight’s not the night for kisses in the rain or talk of what-ifs.

That’s fine. For tonight, the sparks of something new are enough.

Eddie moves to walk behind the bar, but you throw out a reckless hand to catch him. Your first curls around his forearm for the first time tonight, and even with the layer of leather that separates skin, you can feel it. “Hey, did you really call me your Cinderella?”

Flashes and arrays of what’s to come flood both of you. It’s only the first drink. It’s only the first night.

It won’t be the last.

“I mean,” he nods subtly down to the hand holding him, where your ring glitters on your middle finger, snug on your knuckle, “If the ring fits, right?”

He’s right. The ring fits.

And a different ring fits years later, after all those kisses in the rain and many more jack and cokes that Eddie never quite perfects. And you’re still right where you belong, front row at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie’s own personal Cinderella. When the clock strikes midnight, he’s no longer afraid – he knows you’ll be coming home to him now.

Phil only laughs when he receives the invite, chuckling to himself at the chosen theme for the two idiots that once haunted his bar who now had moved onto bigger and better things.

A gothic fairytale wedding, on a Tuesday night. How fitting.

"you touch me once and it's really something. you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be."

#speak now (ghost's version)#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #gotta go see a dentist now #heavily inspired by the og version where she talks about meeting in a bar ngl #speak now is just so fairytale love coded to me i'm sorry #this also would have fit so well for enchanted too but #i listened to sparks fly as i wrote it i swear

365 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 7 months

Text

.ೃ࿐ crazy in love.

❝ it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart skips when I'm with you, but i still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can. ❞

SONG: crazy in love by sofia karlberg.

yandere! al-haitham x gn! reader.

warning for mentions for past suggestive activities. this is a proper fic version of this thing here because I originally wanted it to be longer but was too tired to continue it... but you people still loved it.

Fun fact - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022!

Chattering sailors went on and on as you stared emptily at the hustling and bustling city in front of you, the various lights and lanterns bringing Port Ormos into life as people happy walked on with each other, eager to either finish their duties and go home or they can finally unwind and relax with their friends and family, a promise of either good food, drinks or both waiting for them.

Biting on your lower lip you narrowed your eyes, bitter feelings taking over your entire feeling from top to bottom.

Oh, what you'd give to be in their shoes right now.

Pulling your arms closer towards your body you huddled yourself for some warmth as you tilted your head slightly to the side, the ocean view and the chilly wind being the only ones to greet you. The scent of salt dominated your senses as you closed your eyes and sighed, subconsciously relaxing just a little bit as you accidentally imagined his hand on your back. The memory of his warm knuckles brought you back down to earth as you shuddered, the memory etched in your mind as you desperately tried to shake your head, a pathetic attempt of trying to forget. Even while you weren't with him Al-Haitham still managed to dominate your mind, whether you wanted him there or not.

With a quiet yell only you could hear you plopped yourself back on your feet, your feet almost giving in and falling to the ground had the strong grip around your waist not been holding you in place. Pure shock was written on your face as you turned your head once more and was met with the person you least wanted to see right now.

Al-Haitham said nothing as he carefully brought you back up, your arms pressed firmly against his chest as he slightly lowered his head down to your level, his nose lightly touching your own. A furious blush dusted your cheeks as you retreated back from him, fiery rage burning deep in your heart as you turned your back and practically ran away from the man. Before you could get too far though Al-Haitham managed to catch up to you, his arms tightly gripping your wrists as he lead you to a dark alleyway, determination shining bright in his eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Hah, what a stupid question. You were tempted to just spit on him.

"Why am I avoiding you? The nerve you have..." you replied with a loud scoff, absolute venom coating your words. This attitude would usually be a little amusing to him but Al-Haitham was not in the mood to play games, not now at least. He needed a straight answer out of you and he planned to get it one way or another. With one hand he was now holding both of your wrists high above your head, back against the wall as the thumb from his other free hand traced tiny patterns across your lips.

"I have the right to ask you know. There used to be a time when you could hardly keep your hands to yourself and now you..."

He suddenly retreated his hand back, a barely visible inkling of shock visible in his eyes.

He didn't think you'd try and bite him. And clearly, you were out to make it painful.

You were downright growling at him now, screams of anger threatening to spill out of your mouth and second now as the two of you remained still in your places, the cover of darkness being your only companion for the time being. With the ounce of composure you had left you finally found the right words and said:

🍒 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @universal-rose, @juuuuuj101010, @mod-kisa-blog, @morigumy, @b10h4z4rd

"You, Al-Haitham, are infuriating. All you do is make me miserable and once you're done with me you just toss me away like the most worthless piece of garbage in the whole wide world and then have the nerve to be displeased with me whenever I leave? Tell me, tell me dear Al-Haitham, just where is the logic in that?"

Alhaitham stood back, which allowed some distance between the two of you. Despite the schooled expression on his face his jaw was a dead giveaway. The way it tensed up could cut diamonds but you didn't mind.

You took pleasure in making him as uncomfortable as you possibly could.

Despite the awkward tension in the air, he clearly wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon. Just what was he trying to achieve here? Whatever happened between you had vanished, the spark was gone. At the start you found Alhaitham attractive, very much so even. Having one too many glasses of wine gave you confidence you didn't even know you had which allowed you to make your feelings more... vocal.

Alhaitham made sure to pull out as many different sounds out of you that night, like a twisted symphony of wicked pleasure.

Ever since then, he has been hot on your trail. Constantly sending you gifts, letters, books, trinkets that you didn't even dream of affording - just how rich was he?!

Still, the harder you pushed, the more he came back running. Like a lost pup who was just waiting for his treat but you, the cruel master, was refusing to budge.

It was a tiresome song and dance that seemed to have no end in sight.

He wasn't going to leave you be, no matter how hard you tried to run away. That was your punishment for ever allowing yourself to get so close to him.

#al haitham x reader #yandere al haitham #al haitham agenda #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #genshin impact #genshin al haitham #al haitham #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

271 notes · View notes

tarotwithlove · 6 months

Text

PICK A CARD ⋆ the relationship with your fictional other

a fictional other is defined as: f/o usually stands for fictional other, which is a term often used by self-shippers, mainly on tumblr. you can have romantic, familial and platonic f/os.

· what would they think about you?

· what would your relationship be like?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

the 18+ version of this PAC is on patreon!

GROUP ONE

cards · ace of swords, two of swords, the hanged man, page of pentacles, king of cups (reversed), ten of swords.

channelled songs · i don’t care by 2ne1. blessed with a curse by bring me the horizon. far by sza. nobody by miraa may.

my dear group one ♡ your fictional other would have an immediate attachment to you. they feel like they're surrounded by people who are somewhat inferior to them, unable to hold a proper conversation with them or talk to them as an equal would. they're someone who may thrive on intellectual conversation, which may be at odds with how people perceive them.

i’m thinking of a character like asmodeus from obey me, so your fictional other may be seen as somewhat airheaded, unintelligent, and self-absorbed. people may not make an effort to connect with them or get to know them beyond the superficial or surface level. yet, right from the start, you treat them differently. you don’t treat them as stupid. you speak to them as an equal - enthusiastically conversing about a shared interest with ease or without putting on any airs.

you may be one of the only people who your fictional other feels comfortable around. more than anything, as a friend. they always feel like people want something from them or are only getting close to them because of how much they desire them. but because of how you treat them from the beginning, they have a lot of respect for you and feel at home around you.

this also brings us to what your relationship with your f/o would be like.

your fictional other may see you as a close friend. actually, as their closest friend. even though this is not just friendship for you and you also have romantic feelings for them.

you two will spend a lot of time together, with the people around you joking about how attached at the hip you are. and about how funny it is that your f/o has just adopted you as theirs.

you will likely keep your romantic feelings a secret for the longest time because you don’t want to ruin the friendship. however, you will finally admit your feelings and end up pushing them away. far, far away. they will feel betrayed - as if they lost the only person they could really trust and be themselves with. this confession will also make them overthink your entire relationship and wonder how much of what you were doing was only because you had romantic feelings for them.

GROUP TWO

cards · queen of pentacles, ace of pentacles, wheel of fortune, seven of cups, strength, the fool.

channelled songs · lettera a mio padre by ermal meta. candy drip by lucky daye. whoa by rakiyah. heat lightning by mitski.

my dear group two ♡ there may be an age gap between you and your fictional other - for some, i’m getting that this is thousands of years. i’m not all too familiar with baldur’s gate, but some of you may be reading this pac with astarion in mind (who, if google is to be trusted, is about 200 years old).

your fictional other thinks of you as an incredibly grounded and mature person. they see you as a person with a good head on their shoulders, who can be relied upon, and who makes a good addition to any team.

this idea of the team seems so important, as if your fictional other doesn’t really keep people around unless they can provide them with something useful. a skill or resource, or anything else that uplifts and serves a purpose in their life, and in the grander scheme of things. if they saw you as deadweight - no matter how much they’ve come to like you - they would probably leave you behind or go out of their way to teach you something useful. this, too, would depend on how much they actually like you and the potential they see in you.

but that’s not something you have to worry about, because your fictional other already sees you as a major asset. they already see you as someone they not only want by their side but trust to have by their side.

the relationship between you and your fictional other is honestly so sexually charged, with your f/o seeing you as not only an attractive person but a highly sensual one. i won’t be going into detail about this, but if you’re interested in the sexual relationship between you and your fictional other, there is an 18+ extended version of this pac now up on my patreon!

but! anyway! your relationship with your fictional other may be complicated for some time. there may be this overwhelming sexual and romantic tension for some time - from the time you first meet - but the dynamic of the relationship or your fictional other’s own emotional invulnerability may be keeping them from progressing the relationship beyond this.

your fictional other will, in many ways, favour you. keeping space for you, buying you things, cooking things just for you - all of these things that can be seen as just something you do for a friend but is inextricably tinged with unspoken desire and love when they are done for you by your fictional other.

GROUP THREE

cards · the fool, three of swords, queen of swords, three of cups, the world, two of swords.

channelled songs · shrike by hozier. two hearts and no brain by kane strang. drumming song by florence + the machine. high highs to low lows by lolo zouai.

my dear group three ♡ your fictional other may be inexperienced where love is concerned, though they are quite cocky, flirtatious, and love the idea of love. someone like sanji from one piece actually comes to mind. this is someone who feels mentally and emotionally challenged by you - in particular, you challenge their idea and past approaches to love and relationship, as well as the ways in which they view themselves.

honestly, i’m getting a lot of overwhelmingly sad energy for this group, with your fictional other often wondering if they are good enough for you. even just good enough to be around you.

they see you as someone who is as free-spirited as you are disciplined. they see you as someone who is intelligent, talented and fiercely independent, and they fear that if you see them for who they are instead of who they pretend to be you will immediately dislike them and not want to be around them any longer. so your f/o may walk on eggshells around you, putting on a show as they always put on a show - because, then, you will want to stick around for longer.

your fictional other may put you on a bit of a pedestal, though to an extent it may be that they have such a low view of themselves.

for what this relationship itself will be like, it will be a lot of fun. but it will also be lacking in a lot of emotional connection - something which seems to be a purposeful decision on your fictional other’s part. they think that as long as you are always having fun and keeping busy you can have a good relationship without having to get too close. or, more specifically, without you having to get to know them too well. without you ever having to see the real them.

they will likely keep you laughing, always telling jokes and doing things to keep you entertained.

travel and adventure is so important to your relationship with your fictional other, with you hardly ever just having a normal day. with you hardly ever just having a day to do nothing or relax around doing nothing. you will both like it this way, though, in many ways chasing after this excitement - not just together but likely with a group of friends or close companions.

GROUP FOUR

cards · six of wands, four of pentacles, ten of wands, king of pentacles, two of pentacles, death.

channelled songs · skip skip by purple kiss. not friendly by flo milli. every other freckle by alt-j. budget by megan thee stallion & latto.

my dear group four ♡ in the nicest way possible, your fictional other comes across as quite pathetic. they may be someone who throws money around in an attempt to buy affection or someone who uses money to make up for their perceived flaws. though, in the same vein, i don't see your f/o as someone who focuses too much on their flaws - in fact, they may think that they're perfect - they've just always been taught that money has more power than anything else. and, if they want something, they can just throw money at it and get it.

but this does not work with you. no matter how much money they throw at you, you can't be bought or swayed, which, in and of itself makes them cling to you.

they see you as someone who is overconfident. you may be similar in this regard, though they do not see themselves like this at all. to them, you are someone who could benefit from more money (or jewels or gifts) so they don’t understand why you won’t just accept the things they are giving you.

it’s kind of funny, because it’s probably the first time your fictional other has even thought this much about another person in their whole life. thus, they feel kind of overwhelmed by it. they wonder if you’ve gone through some kind of childhood trauma that’s made you like this. you pique their interest and they want to know everything about you.

saiko metori from the disastrous life of saiki k comes to mind, so that may be who some of you are reading this group for.

your relationship with your fictional other may be… complicated. they may obsessively pursue you - half because they’re genuinely intrigued by you and want to be with you and half because they feel a desire to own you. this desire to own you is driven by their upbringing and values; these values that tell him if they like something that means they have to own it.

you may be attracted to this fictional other or like them enough to be friends with them, but as you get to actually know them you may for a time try to put distance between you two. even if only to sort out your thoughts about this person, this relationship, and where you want this connection to go.

this relationship may change drastically after you put this distance between you, as this sends the message to your f/o that you are not ashamed to set boundaries and stand on them. after this, they may try their best to listen to you and communicate with you as two equals instead of a rich kid and the person they’re trying to woo. though at times they are doing this in a more obviously begrudging manner just because they don’t want to put distance between you again.

193 notes · View notes

festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Text

Blood Sport {Garreth Weasley x Fem!Reader}

Got this pic of Garreth from Rimaeternax on twitter!!!

AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are in their 7th year and are 18+)

Introduction: Garreth had begged you not to put your name in The Goblet of Fire. The TriWizard Tournament was known for being so dangerous, it was practically a death sentence to every school Champion chosen. You promised him you wouldn’t, but when you found out your best friend Natty had entered her name, you decided to go against his wishes and enter behind his back. Being as capable as you were and the only person in ages able to wield ancient magic, of course your name was chosen. Along with an overwhelming sense of dread that you could die, Garreth felt betrayal, and has kept his distance from you ever since.

Word Count: ~ 9,900 (I’m gonna be honest, I dunno how it happened)

Warnings: Heavy Drinking, Swearing, Angst, Smut (Sex, Edging, Oral)

Author’s Note: I made this so it could be a standalone, but in case you’d like extra background, this is a continuation of Garreth’s portion in The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion. I couldn’t get his part out of my head and I had to write out the rest of his story. Freckled Serotonin could be a prequel too haha, a fic that takes place during a time where the relationship is only happiness and fluff. Maaaan, I have been obsessing and losing sleep over this fic all week and I’m so happy I finally finished! It’s my longest one yet, so get cozy and grab a snack 🥰 Hope you guys have a great night ❤

Songs (if interested):

Blood Sport - Sleep Token (Original Version & Room Below Version)

for forever - EKKSTACY

You Can’t Stop Me - Alex G

you not the same - TileKid

The Love You Want - Sleep Token

Lights Are On - Tom Rosenthal

It had been weeks now since you and Garreth last spoke. You knew he needed time and space to forgive you, but your second challenge was coming up soon, and now more than ever you wanted him by your side again.

The Durmstrang Champion, Maxim Mainka, had caught a few hints at what it could be, and things weren’t looking good if his suspicions were correct. He had been so concerned he wanted to prepare with you and the Beauxbatons Champion, Amelie DuPont. Was there anything more unsettling than something that could put a Durmstrang student on edge?

Possibly facing a challenge you couldn’t overcome within the next week had weighed on you more and more as it approached. So when Professor Weasley announced that the fourth years and up were to meet for dance practice for the upcoming Yule Ball, you were over the moon. You’d take anything that could help take your mind off it all.

You grinned a bit seeing all the younger years get uneasy at Professor Weasley explaining the proper dance that was required of everyone if they wanted to attend. The seventh years were the only ones who seemed to be at ease with the whole thing, probably because it wouldn’t be the first time touching someone so intimately for most of you. Whereas the younger years had never even held hands with someone and it was written all over their faces.

“Garreth, come up and help me demonstrate please.”

Your smile faltered a bit watching Garreth walk up. He received some whistles and hollers as he strode up to his aunt proudly, chest puffed like he was about to own this demonstration dance. You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips, of course you still found him as hilarious as ever, despite your current situation.

He blew an exaggerated kiss to the audience and you cackled along with the other students. He then joined his aunt for the dance, keeping the smug look on his face as she talked through the steps for everyone. At one point, he surprised her with a dip, causing everyone to howl with laughter and she smacked him lightly. He said a quick apology and brought her back up.

“That’ll do. Thank you, Garreth.” He stepped back from his aunt and gave a dramatic bow, bringing another round of chuckles from everyone as you all clapped for him.

“Alright, now everyone find a partner and we’ll go through the steps together.”

Most of the students went quiet and still, not wanting to make the first move. The only ones who got up to move were the ones in relationships, heading to join their significant others for practice. You looked down to the ground, suddenly feeling like an unconfident fourth year yourself.

Garreth caught sight of you amongst the crowd. He had been wanting to go up and speak to you these last few days, but he couldn't get himself to do it. There never seemed to be a good time, he started to doubt there ever would be.

He straightened his tie, more out of bustling nerves than anything, and strode up to you. He held out his hand for you to take and you slowly looked up at him, clearly taken aback.

He looked down at you with a smirk, hoping you didn’t see through his feigned confidence. “What do you say, oh mighty Champion of Hogwarts?”

You swallowed thickly, your body wasn’t handling Garreth speaking to you again as well as you had hoped, but you’d take this moment regardless. You tentatively took his hand and he tugged you up with ease. He kept your hand in his as he led you to the floor, then effortlessly pulled you into the dance, his hold on you firm and warm.

“You have horrible taste in dance partners, Weasley.” You tried to jest to hide how anxious you were. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked down at your feet to make sure you didn’t step on his. It was a bit much, not speaking for as long as you had and now you were in his arms like this.

“Just follow the expert, you’ll be fine.” He pulled you even closer to him, getting you to finally look up at his face. His eyes bored into yours, and it wiped your mind clean of any coherent thought you had. You wanted to look back down to your feet but he had pulled you too close to be able to do so, so you settled for looking at your hand on his shoulder.

“I uh - I thought I’d take this chance to speak with you.” It was Garreth’s turn to feel uneasy.

Well… that doesn’t sound good. “Alright.”

He looked away from you, his jaw tensing, bracing himself for what he was going to say next. Your stomach dropped seeing his face turn so dismayed when he was being goofy and having fun only a moment ago.

“I don’t know how best to put this, so I’m just going to say it. I think we should just be friends.” He could feel you stiffen and he pulled you in closer, your stance turning more into an embrace. He placed his cheek against yours, your swaying becoming only small steps from side to side. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I really do hope we can be friends, I’ll do anything to make that happen. Anything. But, I can’t be yours anymore. I just… I can’t. It hurts too much.”

Your eyes stung with tears, and you hated that one had managed to fall. But you were able to remain standing tall. Unable to speak with your throat feeling so constricted, you settled for a brief nod of your head, letting him know you heard him.

“Whatever you need, it's yours. I’ll help you through the rest of the tournament any way I can, just say the word.”

Quickly wiping away your stray tear before he could see it, you cleared your throat. You shifted in your stance so he could back off of you a bit. “Let’s stick with dance lessons, yeah?”

You looked over his shoulder, focusing on nothing in particular while he eyed you a moment longer. He then nodded his head, looking over your shoulder at nothing in particular himself. “Yeah… Yeah, alright then.”

That night you had decided to go to The Hog’s Head. You would go to Three Broomsticks, but you didn’t want to chance bumping into Garreth. You wanted to avoid him like the plague.

Walking in, you saw Maxim Mainka. He was sitting at the bar, drinking and cheerily speaking with those around him. He noticed you walk in and lit up like you were just the person he wanted to see.

“Fellow Champion! Come! Come join me!”

You smiled and joined his side at the bar.

“One for my friend, on me!” He called to the bartender.

You gladly took the pint placed in front of you and began on a steady stream of gulps.

“That’s the way!” He cheered, patting you on the back and clearly feeling a good buzz in his cheeks. He held up his drink to you and you clinked it with yours. “Let’s enjoy our last few days alive, my friend!”

You stilled and thought on his words for a moment. You knew Maxim had been feeling edgy about the upcoming challenge, but you didn’t think he’d be this convinced none of the champions would make it out alive.

You started to go a bit numb. The love of your life had asked you to ‘just be friends’ and you might very well die in a few days…

What better time to drink myself silly?

You raised your pint, “Here’s to that.” Then you brought it back to your lips for more.

Garreth sat at the bar of The Three Broomsticks, barely able to touch his drink; he was so sick to his stomach. He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, unable to follow the chatter of his friends next to him.

He knew ending things with you would be one of the stupidest things he had ever done, but he had to. What choice did he have? He couldn’t keep you wondering and waiting on him to forgive you when you had more important things to focus on.

His feelings were all over the place. He still loved you deeply, but he was also still upset. He didn’t think you’d ever truly know how full of dread you made him when you threw yourself into danger as constantly as you did.

He thought if he gave you a clear stance on where the two of you were in the meantime, it’d be better for you, give you the chance to prepare for your challenges with a clear head. But asking to just be friends had gone horribly, bringing the exact opposite effect he wanted, making things even worse on you.

“I think I’m gonna turn in, mate. Not feeling it tonight.” Garreth got up from his seat and patted Leander on the back as he passed. He moseyed out of The Three Broomsticks with his hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt at his feet as he made his way out of Hogsmeade.

The sound of cheering coming from The Hog’s Head caught his attention. He peeked over curiously and had to do a double take. That bar was never bustling, yet there was a huge crowd around it tonight, boisterous about something going on inside.

He was caught off guard when you and Maxim clambered out of the crowd and fell to the ground, laughing hysterically and definitely drunk. The crowd cheered in intoxicated delight at your collapse.

Garreth made his way over as Maxim helped you up. When he saw him throw you over his shoulder, his blood boiled and he picked up his pace.

“This one’s pissed! She’s done for the night!” Maxim called back to the crowd as he carried you away from The Hog’s Head with ease. The crowd whined in unison at your departure.

Garreth strode up to him. “Put her down. I can take her from here.”

As Garreth approached, Maxim side stepped him and kept walking.

“Oi, Knobhead! I said put her down!”

Maxim gave your side a quick pat. “You know this one?”

You peeked up. “Ah! It’s alright, I know him. He can take me.” You giggled, and Garreth wanted you down from Maxim’s shoulder yesterday.

With a grunt, he set you down. “If you trust him. I could go for a few more rounds anyway.” He took your hand and kissed it. “Goodnight. Meet with me again tomorrow?” He went in to kiss your hand again while he waited for your answer.

“Appreciate it, mate. Goodnight.” Garreth came up behind you, gripping your shoulders and moving you along before his lips could make it to your hand again.

You waved over your shoulder lazily. “Goodnight to you too, Maxim.”

When Garreth felt you two were far enough away, he released your shoulders and walked by your side.

You let out a content sigh and looked up at the stars above as you walked.

“Seems you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Garreth grumbled.

“I sure did.”

Garreth’s jaw tensed at the thought of you having been with Maxim all night. “Couldn’t even give it a full day, huh?”

You let out an exhale, your drunkenness making it sound a little more exaggerated. You glanced over at him. He was facing ahead stiffly, hands in his pockets. “And what do you mean by that?”

He shrugged, putting on a face like he couldn’t be bothered what you did anymore. “Nothing.”

“I can’t enjoy myself if we’re not together? Is that it?”

“I didn’t say that. Enjoy yourself all you want.”

“I planned on it.”

“Good. Glad you had such a great night.” He wasn’t glad.

“I did have a great night.” You decided to get cheeky. “And I’m so happy my good friend, Garreth Weasley, was here to walk me back to the dorms. What a guy.”

He sighed your name, starting to regret he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

You hiccuped and rubbed at your eyes. You were starting to feel a little sick and groaned. “I think I had a few too many. I just didn’t want to stop. Oh, have you heard? Apparently, it’s going to be suicide walking into the arena this week. No one at Hog’s Head would shut up about it.” You mumbled. “What a way to go, huh?”

Garreth stopped in his tracks and looked at you in horror. “What… What did you just say?” He didn’t recognize who he was talking to right then. You sounded like you were accepting death. You knew this tournament was dangerous, but you’d at least always been determined to fight.

You ignored him and kept walking, humming the Hogwarts anthem and keeping your air of drunken bliss.

Garreth called your name sternly for you to stop walking and look at him.

He rarely spoke with such a tone, and it seemed to bring you back to reality a bit. Your face hardened when you glanced back at him. “Don’t even start.” You said bitterly as you kept walking.

He raised his brows, incredulous at your behavior tonight, and moved to join your side. “Sorry? Say that again. Start what exactly?”

You stopped and faced each other. “Why should I listen to anything you have to say when you abandoned me? You left me when I -” You shoved him, “- When I needed you the most.”

“I left you, did I? I could have sworn you were the one that chose a worthless fucking tournament over me but what do I know? I’m just an idiot who wanks over potions.”

An amused huff escaped you and you rubbed at your face, drunk and desperately trying not to crack up. “Dammit, Garreth.” You groaned. “Don’t make me laugh, I'm mad at you.”

He shook his head and bit back a smirk of his own. He really did need to work on his timing. The two of you were definitely having the worst fight you’ve had since knowing each other, he needed to take it seriously.

He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand down his face. “How about we not be mad at each other tonight?” He said, waving his white flag. With alcohol in both of your systems - more so yours than his but still - putting this conversation to the side for now seemed like the smartest idea. “Let’s save it for tomorrow.”

“That’s -” You lost your balance slightly and he steadied you. “That’s a good idea.”

As Garreth stepped into the dining hall the next morning, his eyes roamed the room for you. When he spotted you, it didn’t take long for your eyes to drift up and lock with his. He gestured with his chin for you to step outside and speak with him. You nodded your head, getting up and walking over.

Out of habit when he got this close to you, he gingerly grabbed a hold of your arm. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine. Head’s killing me, but I’m fine.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

He gave you a weak smile in return, not quite buying it. “To be honest, you scared me. You sounded like you’d given up last night.”

You shook your head. “I wasn’t in my right mind, and I hate that you had to be there for any of it. You shouldn’t have had to hear anything I said in that state.”

He gave your arm a gentle squeeze to help put you at ease like he usually would. But it made him remember that you weren’t together anymore, and he shouldn’t be doing things like that.

When he released you, you glanced down briefly, not even aware he had had a hold on you. Now, it seemed you two had to get used to not touching each other, that was what felt less natural.

“I meant it when I said I still want to be there for you. Whatever you need, it’s yours.” Garreth looked into your eyes, trying to convey how much he meant it.

You nodded your head, deciding to let him help. If this next challenge was as dangerous as Maxim said it was going to be, you needed all the help you could get. “I need potions. All that you can make me.”

Garreth was crumbling as he paced back and forth in front of the hospital wing. “Let me in, I need to see her. Please, you don’t understand.” His breathing was uneven, his voice cracking. The latest challenge was the most horrific thing he had ever seen.

The Beauxbatons Champion had been killed, torn to pieces by the horde of inferi you were tasked to fight. You and Maxim had barely made it through. The both of you had to be carried out of the arena, and Garreth needed to see with his own eyes that you were actually alive.

Nurse Blainey tried to steady him. “I do understand. But she’s resting, you need to leave her be for now.”

Leander had tried easing him away. “Come on, Garreth. She’s in good hands now, we can come back later.”

Garreth shoved him back. “Goddammit, get off me!” He turned back to Nurse Blainey with a fire in his eyes. “I’m not waiting for your permission any more.” He shoved past her into the hospital wing.

He scanned the room for you, walking past Maxim who was rocking back and forth while nurses tended to his wounds. He mumbled something in his native tongue to himself over and over.

Garreth froze and his stomach dropped sickeningly when he spotted your bloodied and bruised form. As the nurses tended to your wounds, his mind raced, trying to reassure himself repeatedly that he could see you breathing, you were only sleeping, you were still alive.

Leander placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, mate.”

Garreth nodded his head rigidly and turned away from you. He apologized to Nurse Blainey and Leander guided him out.

When they returned to the Gryffindor common room, Garreth made a beeline to his dorm. Shutting the door behind him, he went and slumped down on the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Then, all at once, the tears came. He shot a hand up to cover his eyes and his shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs.

Garreth returned with Leander later that night. Leander went into the hospital wing first to check if it was okay for him to see you. He didn’t think he’d be able to walk past you and just leave if he was told ‘no’.

Leander came back out with a small smile. “You can see her. But Nurse Blainey said she’s on quite a lot of painkillers. Go easy on her tonight.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry again for earlier.”

Leander waved him off and turned to leave. “See you later.”

Garreth made his way in towards your bed. He noticed Maxim was out like a rock, and was relieved for the poor man.

“Uh oh, I don’t think I did my herbology homework. I’ll need to get on that soon.” Garreth heard you say and could immediately tell how well the painkillers were working on you.

“No need to worry about it right now, dear.” Nurse Blainey chuckled as she looked over her checklist. She glanced up at Garreth as he approached. “If she wants to sleep, let her. Don’t keep her up.”

Garreth gave her a firm nod, then looked at you and noticed how out of it you really were. You were sitting up in bed and looking up at the ceiling whimsically. He was thankful you didn’t seem to be feeling all the stitched up gashes and harsh bruising on you.

Your eyes eventually landed on him and your face lit up. “There’s my boy.”

Garreth’s chest went fluttery. It had felt like ages since you had called him your anything. Merlin, I’ve missed that.

“Where have you been? I wanted to tell you I beat Leander at Summoner’s Court today. Or… wait… was that yesterday?”

Garreth let out an amused breath through his nose and went to sit in the chair at your bedside. “No, you were right. That was today.” He took your hand in his. No harm in being back with you like this for only a night, right? Especially if you were this out of it, it didn't seem like you’d remember any of it anyway. “And I believe it. Leander’s bloody terrible at Summoner’s Court. Has been since first year, the moron.”

You giggled and brought both of your hands over his, bringing it up to your lips. Garreth’s insides turned to putty. Still weak as ever for you, I see.

“How are your hands always so warm?” You looked down at his hand in wonder.

“How are yours always so cold?” The corner of his lips quirked up. He’d gladly forget everything with you tonight, go back to a better time.

You released his hand and brought yours up to examine them. “What? You think my hands are always cold? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have… I would… Merlin, what happened to my hands?” Noticing the discoloration and stitches, you brought them closer to your face to get a better look. Garreth grabbed a hold of your hands, covering them with his. He brought them down and began stroking his thumbs over your skin.

“Next time I go to Honeydukes, what do you want me to get you?” It was the first thing he could think of to distract you and it seemed to work wonders. You shifted a bit in the bed to face him more, excited to give him your answer.

“Oh, chocolate frogs. Is that even a question?”

“You’re right.” He smiled at you. “It’s always chocolate frogs. I didn’t even need to ask.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you gave a quiet gasp. “Oh no, Gar. That reminds me. Did I ever get you your billywig stings?”

He chuckled. When and where is your brain right now? “Yes, you got them for me. Don’t worry.”

“Good.” You relaxed again. “Sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”

As he nodded in agreement and bit back a laugh, a student came rushing into the hospital wing, getting both of your attention. You looked at the panicked student curiously, and Garreth was mindful to keep your hands covered with his.

“Nurse Blainey, Isaac Cooper fell off his broom! W - We didn’t want to move him -”

Nurse Blainey didn’t hesitate to go up to him. “Take me to him immediately.” She looked back to the both of you. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You watched her leave the wing, then you looked back to Garreth. You raised a brow at him and he raised one back at you. He eyed you as you shifted in bed again, freeing your hands from his and moving away from him, creating space. “Join me while she’s gone.”

Garreth’s throat went dry. He gave a little cough to regain his composure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“You don’t want to?” You asked innocently as you laid on your side and looked up at him.

Still beyond weak for you. He exhaled and glanced back at the hospital wing entrance, then moved to lie in bed with you.

You grabbed his tie, fiddling with it as you lied there, face to face. He couldn’t help but feel completely at ease, as if he had gone back in time like you had. He brought his hand up and rested it on your cheek.

Your brows furrowed a bit, and you looked troubled.

“What’s going through your mind right now?” He asked, beginning to stroke your cheek with his thumb, careful to be gentle over your bruising.

“I feel like something bad’s going to happen this year, Gar. I can’t shake it.”

He shook his head. “Nothing bad’s going to happen.” He whispered.

You let go of his tie and met his gaze. “Then why do I feel so uneasy right now?”

He pulled you to him, tucking your head under his chin and you nuzzled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he held you. “N.E.W.T.s probably.”

You gave a soft hum. “Yeah… that’s got to be it. I hate tests.” He noticed your voice was starting to sound sleepy.

“I know you do.”

He propped his head up on his hand and looked down at you as he continued stroking your hair. He watched and waited until your breathing got heavier and you did those cute little snores of yours. Once he knew you were asleep, he kissed your temple, then slipped out of the bed as noiselessly as he could.

Just as he was about to leave, Nurse Blainey had made her way back with Isaac Cooper. He took one last glance at your sleeping form across the room, then left.

You didn’t know how long you had been out, but the grogginess and soreness you felt when you finally awoke was unreal. The sun was shining through the windows and you realized you were in the hospital wing. The last thing you remember was being in the arena and... You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them back up, trying to erase the image of Amelie DuPont’s mangled corpse from your head.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathing through the immense discomfort in your body. Then, something bright and blue caught your attention at the corner of your eye. You turned your head slightly to see a chocolate frog box on the bedside table.

Who would leave a perfectly good chocolate frog lying around?

It was probably the first time in TriWizard Tournament history where none of the school Champions attended The Yule Ball. Was that historically accurate? Garreth wasn’t sure. But with how dramatic Headmaster Black was acting, he’d believe it was.

It was common knowledge Maxim Mainka wanted to keep to himself ever since the last challenge. Showing up to a ball was the last thing anyone expected him to do. As for you, Garreth had no idea where you were or why you hadn’t shown up yet.

He didn’t even know what your plans were for the ball to begin with, didn’t want to ask, truth be told. Why on earth would he open up the opportunity to hear about how the woman he fumbled would be going with someone else?

He saw how many people asked you. You had turned them all down from what he’d seen. At first, he thought maybe you’d want him to take you, but every time he brought up the ball, you’d change the topic. He could take a hint.

Garreth decided to leave and look for you. He hadn’t brought a date anyway. Why did he decide to go alone to watch the love of his life walk in and dance with someone else? He didn’t know for sure, but it was probably because he felt he deserved it, treating you the way he had this year. And it was all because he couldn’t handle being with someone so inconceivable.

He couldn’t believe he had been as upset with you as he was. It’s not like you had treated him horribly or were unfaithful. You had gone behind his back to save your best friend Natty for Merlin’s sake. You hadn’t betrayed him. You were only doing what you felt was right.

He had been so afraid of losing you forever, he convinced himself you were doing him wrong whenever you threw yourself into danger. And so, he pushed you away like an idiot. He had no idea where to begin when it came to fixing what you two had, had no idea if he even could.

Garreth asked around before he left but no one seemed to know where you were. Not even Natty knew and that had genuinely shocked him. Wherever you were in this castle, you didn’t care to be found.

Hopping from floo to floo for what felt like hours, Garreth had finally found you in Professor Sharp’s classroom of all places.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the doorway and watched you at one of the potion stations. It had been a few months since the last challenge, you weren’t fully recovered but all your scrapes and bumps had healed for the most part, only a few bandages here and there remained.

He kept quiet and let himself just look at you. You were beautiful, all done up for the ball and brewing what looked like an edurus potion from what he could see. You looked like a dream, like you were made just for him.

“Don't you have a big, fancy Room of Requirement you could do this in?” He quipped.

Carefully dropping some more mongrel fur into the pot, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “Evening, Garreth.” You smiled politely, then turned back to your pot. “What are you doing here?”

Garreth’s face dropped a bit. You had greeted him like you were decent friends and nothing more. Isn’t this wonderful? After all, it was his bright idea. Garreth from a few months ago would have been thrilled to know you two could get to this point. And present day Garreth wanted to go back and kick Garreth from a few months ago’s ass. Turns out, he didn’t like being friends with you. Not one bit.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He pushed up off the door frame and took slow steps towards you.

“I ran out of mongrel fur.” You said, fixated on the brew before you. “Thankfully Professor Sharp let me take over the edurus potion he was already making.”

“I don't see Professor Sharp anywhere, just go on and admit you’re stealing it. I won’t tell.” He stepped closer.

You shot him a brief smirk over your shoulder. You were glad to have Garreth back in your life and on such good terms too, but there were times when it just hurt. Tonight seemed especially bad. You had heard through the grapevine he asked Nellie Oggspire to the ball. Putting on a good face was taking a lot more effort than normal.

You cleared your throat, thinking of a way to keep the mood light. “How’s your night been?”

Ah, small talk. Merlin, he hated this.

He rubbed a hand down his face and came up beside you, peeking into your pot. “My night’s been fine. Looks like you need a few more ashwinder eggs.” He turned and went to go grab some for you.

“I was thinking the same thing.” You furrowed your brows and bit your lip as you stirred and looked into your pot, examining it closely to see if there was anything else it needed.

He returned and handed the eggs to you, wishing he hadn’t caught your focus face. He was always a sucker for it.

“Thank you.” You said appreciatively, grabbing the eggs without looking at him and plopping them in.

“Looks like that should do it.” He mused. His eyes gradually went up from the pot to your face, then down to your dress, more specifically your body in your dress. He swallowed thickly and made himself look back at the pot. “And you? How has your night been?”

“Pretty busy, I haven’t been able to get to the ball yet. One of our kneazles is having her litter tonight. Deek was going to make sure everything went smoothly while I was away, all he asked for was an edurus potion in case she got too cranky with him. Hence -” You gestured absently to yourself and the pot.

“You would spend Christmas Eve like this.” He smirked. “I thought it was a Yule Ball tradition for the champions to attend.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table.

You only shrugged your shoulders in response. You made yourself keep your eyes on your brew, because if you looked his way, you’d get weak at how wonderfully he cleaned up for the ball.

Garreth… really hated this. He hated that you barely looked at him and that this was how your conversations went now. Your silences were never awkward, if there was a silence between you while you were together it was comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost done. I’ll be out of here and then you can take over this station.”

He furrowed his brows. “Hmm? I don’t need to do anything. I came to see if you were in here.”

You looked at him then and he met your gaze. Don’t give me hope like that, Weasley. You averted your gaze back to your pot. “Oh, well…” You cleared your throat. “Did you… need me for something?”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t need you for anything. You weren’t at the ball and I missed you, that’s the gist of it.”

You glanced his way again. You weren’t going to let yourself have any hope until he told you he forgave you. You needed to hear those exact words, you wouldn’t let yourself jump at anything less.

“Don’t you have a date to get to tonight?” Garreth tried to sound as casual as he could. He hadn’t heard anything about who you’d be going with. But whoever they were, they weren’t with you now. Maybe he could ease himself into the pain instead of getting a full on shock when he finally sees you dance with someone else.

“Would you believe no one asked me?”

“Not for a second." He scoffed. "Even if I hadn’t seen people asking you with my own eyes.”

You chuckled. “Well, no date for me. I uh - I needed to go at my own pace tonight. Didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s Yule Ball just because -” You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a humorless huff, “- just because my head’s such a goddamn mess right now.”

Garreth eyed you with concern. Then he processed even more of what you said. “You were never going with anyone?”

You shook your head.

“I didn’t go with anyone either.”

You looked at him, surprise evident on your face. “You didn’t?”

Garreth held your gaze and shook his head.

“But… I thought you were going with Nellie.”

Garreth raised a brow at you, genuinely confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Well I - I heard from a few different people you had asked her.” You quickly looked away from him, a little embarrassed your jealousy and hurt were coming through.

Garreth shook his head, wanting to reassure you more than anything it wasn’t true. “I never asked her. I never asked anyone, I promise you.”

“I mean… it’s alright if you did, Garreth. You don’t owe me anything.”

He took a moment to take in your words, and they didn’t sit right with him. “I owe you everything.”

You stilled, your heart rate picked up, and you weren’t really sure if you imagined what he had just said.

“It’s you who owes me nothing.” He stepped as close to you as he could without touching you. “But I’d like it if you called me Gar again.”

You slowly looked up at him and searched his eyes. “You’ve forgiven me?” You asked in a whisper, your throat constricting as your vision began to blur with tears.

He shook his head. “There was never anything to forgive.” He reached up and cupped your face in his hands. A few tears overflowed out of your eyes and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “Walking away from you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying something. I’ve done some pretty stupid things.” He tried to jest, and he was elated it got you to smile. “I can be yours. Easily. If you’ll have me.”

You couldn’t speak, and Garreth held his breath while he waited for your answer. After your brain caught up with everything that was happening, you nodded your head.

Garreth released the breath he was holding and nearly collapsed with relief. He didn’t waste a second more and not so delicately placed his lips atop yours. Your hands moved up to his chest as you kissed him back, fisting the fabric of his coat. This was nowhere near your first kiss together, yet you felt brand new to each other. And you wanted to familiarize yourselves all over again.

The pot began to sizzle. With his mouth still on yours, Garreth peeked one eye open to check on it. He groaned and tore himself from you, going to stir it. Chuckling, you got the flask ready for him.

“What a team we are.” Garreth smirked as he scooped the edurus potion into the flask.

You capped it and looked up at him. “Acting like I didn’t do most of the work, are you?”

He smirked. “Tough talk for -” He looked back at you and your amused features sent his insides into a tizzy. “Tough talk for someone who…” His words drifted off and he smiled at you like a dullard.

You started to laugh and raised your eyebrows at him. “Are you having a stroke?”

“Shut up.” He bashfully looked away from you and hummed, trying to unscramble his brain. “I um - I’m trying to go along and keep the joke going, but you look -” He let out a breathy whew sound. “You look amazing right now and it’s making me nervous.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you went fluttery at his words. It was your turn to feel bashful. You shook your head and playfully shoved him. Then you went up and pecked him on the cheek. “Come on, let’s get this to Deek.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

The Room of Requirement’s door formed before you and Garreth. And he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. It usually only let you in, but this made it twice now that the room felt he should be in there with you.

You two made your way in and he looked around, confused. “Where would the kneazles be?”

You laced your fingers through his. “This way.” You guided him through the bottom floor vivarium and he was almost getting annoyed at how insane this room was.

“Sweet Merlin, I thought this was a greenhouse or something.” He looked all over, breathing in the fresh air and smiling at all the magical beasts that ran up to sniff and examine him. “Is that a baby puffskein?”

You chuckled. “It is. Could you play with him while I get this to Deek? He’s been extra needy lately.”

“On it.” Garreth released you and knelt down, picking up the tiny creature that could easily fit in one hand. He gave the puffskein some scratches on the head. “How am I supposed to be okay with my girl being around a handsome little devil like you? You could steal her away at any given moment.” The puffskein looked up at him and tilted its head. Garreth let out a little gasp. “And you know it too, you shameless bastard.”

“Despite calling my magical beasts shameless bastards, you seem to be pretty good with them.” You said as you returned, hitching up your dress a bit, and kneeling down next to him.

“What can I say? I’ve learned a thing or two since I started paying attention in beasts class. Had to step up my game when this new girl arrived, you see. Cute thing, adored beasts.”

You smiled at him. “Funny, sounds like how I got so good at potions.”

He glanced at you and that bashfulness returned. You gave him too many butterflies for him to be able to keep his calm. To hide his jittery nerves, he kept up the head scratches on the puffskein.

A nearby baby mooncalf started to get jealous at the attention the puffskein was getting and ran up to you. You chuckled and picked her up, giving her some scratches behind her ear. You looked over at Garreth, noticing he got quiet. You nudged him with your shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

He could only glance at you briefly, if he looked at you any longer he’d be a bumbling mess. He cleared his throat. Merlin’s beard, toss out a joke or something, Weasley. “I’m thinking you better not get any ideas from us holding baby beasts.”

You scoffed, but then decided to tease him. “Uh oh. It might be too late for that.”

He slowly set down the puffskein and looked at you with raised brows. “Now now, no need to panic. Just put down the mooncalf, yeah?”

You let out a shaky breath, playing along. “A - Alright.” You set her down gently, and she ran off to go play with her moon ball.

Garreth pulled the both of you up to your feet. “Better?”

You fanned your face with your hand as if you needed to cool yourself down. “I think it’s too late. The baby fever’s consuming me. Take me, Gar. I’m ready.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He took cautious steps backwards to get some distance between you two. “As arousing as that was.”

“Give in, Weasley. It’s our last year at Hogwarts, I think we both know what’s coming next.” You warned. Garreth stepped back even further from you, thinking of an escape plan. Before he could get any further, you bolted after him.

“Get away from me!” He laughed as he ran from you, dodging and weaving through the vivarium to try and shake you.

“I’m gonna getcha!”

“No!” You two were laughing hysterically as you ran up and down the vivarium field. “What in Merlin’s name?! How are you so fast in that dress?!”

“Oh, you’re not escaping the Hogwarts Champion, darling!” You had grabbed a hold of his coat but he slipped out of it, narrowly escaping you.

“Dammit!” You laughed, dropping his coat to the ground.

He left the vivarium and you ran after him. You caught sight of him heading up the stairs. He glanced back at you briefly and realized he hadn’t lost you as much as he thought.

“Oh shit!” He laughed and picked up the pace. Without thinking he went into the beach vivarium. The sand slowed him down instantly and he kicked off his dress shoes to keep running.

As soon as you entered the beach vivarium, you kicked off your shoes as well, picking your dress up off the ground and going back after him.

He saw you coming and panicked. He looked back and forth between you and the water. He quickly decided to take off his socks and go to the shore. He saw you slow down and eye him defeatedly.

“Ha! What’s the matter? Don’t want to get your dress wet? Such a shame.” He looked at you cheekily as he bent down and rolled up his pant legs. He gave you a smug smile and walked further into the water, deep enough to submerge his calves, kicking and splashing tauntingly.

“I can’t believe you’d let me suffer like this.” You meandered up to the water, tentatively dipping your big toe in and nothing more.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept the triumphant smile on his face. “Oh don’t pout, this is for the best. We don’t really want little Garreths running around, do we?” His smile faded and his eyes widened when a thought entered his head. “Oh Merlin, little Garreths running around wielding ancient magic… What masochist would want that?”

You shook your head and tried to bite back your amused smile, lifting your dress a little higher and dipping your toe in again. Garreth went a little mad at the sight. Oh no, maybe I’m the masochist who wants that.

Sighing dramatically, your head fell back and you closed your eyes, letting the vivarium's sun warm your face.

Fuck… I really want that. In that moment, there was no doubt in his mind, he was going to get on one knee the second you two graduated from Hogwarts.

“Truce?” You asked.

Garreth could only keep staring.

When he didn’t answer, you opened one eye and peeked over at him. “No truce?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t a humorous one. It was a simple one, full of love. “Just come here, why don’t you?” He walked through the water towards you and held out his hand. You took it, meeting him halfway and getting the hem of your dress wet.

Garreth couldn’t seem to hold it together anymore. He cupped your face and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. He was always amazed at how soft you were, and he wanted you beyond reason right now.

Keeping his mouth on yours, he scooped you up into his arms.

Your surprised yelp was muffled against his mouth. You pulled away and looked at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You were going to make a joke, but the way his eyes were on you kept your mouth shut.

He walked the two of you out of the vivarium and his eyes roamed the room. “Direct me to a couch or something. Anywhere for Christ’s sake.”

You pointed across the balcony and giggled. “Over there, you brute.”

He made his way over with you, leaving a trail of sand in his wake. He set you down and gently guided you to sit on the couch, kissing you all over as he did so. He then placed himself on the ground between your legs and began pushing up your dress. Locking his eyes with yours as he reached under and pulled down your underclothes.

His member throbbed against the fabric of his pants when he caught a glimpse of your core, but you shut your legs together. He looked up at you in concern. You were biting your lip and looking away from him.

“What’s wrong?” He went up onto the couch a bit and brought a hand to your cheek to get you to look at him, he pecked the corner of your mouth.

You shook your head and scoffed at yourself, shooting your hands up to cover your face. He smirked when you started snickering and he tried pulling your hands away.

You groaned like you were embarrassed. “I’m really nervous for some reason.”

Garreth chuckled with you and leaned forward to kiss at your neck. “Why are you nervous?” He asked against your skin and you could feel him smiling. “Not to brag, but I’ve seen you naked quite a few times already.”

“I know.” You sighed. “Maybe because it’s been a while or… or…” Your words drifted off as he began to suck on that spot below your ear, he hadn’t forgotten how you liked to be touched. Hopefully he could help put you at ease a little bit more.

He felt your body start to relax and he kissed down your neck. He pulled away to glance at you and you gave him a small nod. He went back to the ground on his knees before you, hitching up your dress again to reveal your heat. His breathing grew heavy and he placed your legs over his shoulders.

He brought his lips to your folds like an opened mouthed kiss, his tongue tracing along. You jolted a bit at the sensation, feeling a little extra ticklish with it having been a while since he’d last done this, but he kept you steady with a strong hold on your thighs.

He was starting to lose himself tasting you again after all this time. The wetness of your fluids and his spit mixing together had his member aching. Your breaths came out shallow as you watched him. His eyes were closed as his tongue rediscovered you, his fingernails dug into your thighs, hurting in the best way. He licked up to the top of your slit, and began sucking gently.

“A - Ah! Garreth!” You whined as your muscles suddenly tensed and twitched at the sensation. He loved hearing you cry his name like that, and he was eager to get more out of you. But a thought occurred to him, and his body stiffened.

He took his mouth off of you and quickly glanced around. “That Deek fellow’s not here right?”

“He’ll be in the vivarium all night.” You said breathily. “Now keep going.” You grabbed his head and pulled him back to you.

“Right, sorry.” He put his mouth back on you and picked up where he left off.

Your head fell back and you kept one hand on his head, fingers getting a solid grip on his locks. You had started to make the smallest of grinding motions as he kept at you, this was how he always knew you were close. He kept up his tongue patterns and could feel your hips pickup more and more. You let out another whine and gripped his hair with both of your hands then. He held onto your thighs tight when you began to convulse, riding out your pleasure on his face.

You slumped back on the couch, going a little limp, legs sliding off his shoulders. You caught your breath and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still got it.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled as you stood to your feet and he stood with you. Your giggles were muffled when he fused his lips with yours.

You began undoing his buttons, taking off his vest then going for his shirt. You two broke from your kiss and he looked down to help you, both of your fingers shaky and hurried.

He shrugged off his shirt and went back for your lips as it fell to the ground. His hands gripped your hips, turning you so your back would be to him, keeping his mouth on yours until the last second. He then started undoing the back of your dress, planting open mouthed kisses on your shoulder and nipping your skin here and there as he did so. You could only bite your lip in anticipation as you waited for him to finish.

Once you felt the dress was loose enough, you shimmied out of it and turned to face him, throwing your arms around his shoulders and claiming his lips again. He held you flush against him, making you feel how much he needed you through his pants.

You tore your lips from his and started unbuckling his belt. He didn’t help you this time, and just watched in a carnal haze as you went for the last of his clothes. Once you had undone his belt and pants you pulled them down, going to your knees as you did so. He hissed a breath through his teeth when you took him in your mouth and his hand shot up to get a gentle hold on your head.

As your mouth moved up and down his length, his breathing picked up and his insides felt like a furnace. But he didn’t want to finish yet, he wanted to be inside you again. He let his head fall back, enjoying it just a moment longer. Getting close enough to the edge, he looked back down at you and pulled himself away from your mouth. There was a line of spit from your tongue to his tip briefly. When it broke, you wiped it from your chin and looked up at him, your features flushed. He nearly burst at the sight.

You stood to your feet and took his hands in yours, guiding him back to the couch. He followed, completely hypnotized by you. You laid back and pulled him down on top of you. He brought his mouth down on yours heartily as he positioned himself between your legs. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at the two of you about to join. He took his member in his hand and rubbed it along your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You gasped lightly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. It took everything in him to keep his hip thrusts slow and not completely lose himself in you just yet.

“I missed you.” He sighed against your neck. “I missed you so much.”

You mewled softly at his words and the feel of him filling you. Wrapping your arms around him tighter, you wanted to melt into him more than you ever had before. “I love you.”

"Mmh." With a low groan, he hitched your legs up a bit higher around him, picking up the pace and grinding into you at an even better angle. "Say that again…"

"I love you." You whimpered as his hips picked up the pace, making you unable to speak as clearly as before.

"I love you." He said back. His breathing heavy in your ear as he tried to bury himself even deeper inside you with each thrust.

The noises you were making had his control start to fray at the seams. Grunts began to escape him as his hips pounded into you. He was nearing his climax again.

“Not yet not yet.” You said breathily, trying to push him back a bit. He nodded his head, a little delirious, but his mind still functioned enough to know you wanted to swap positions. The two of you adjusted so that he was the one on his back and you were on top. He caught his breath as he edged away from finishing again.

You straddled him, careful not to put him back in you yet. You leaned down and kissed him. He placed one hand on your hip while the other had a grip in your hair, holding you to him like this until he felt he was ready to go again.

“Alright.” He whispered against your lips after a moment, and you shifted back. He let out a slow exhale as you sunk yourself onto him, gripping your hips.

He was in you fully again, and your heat surrounding him as he lied back was bliss. You began to move up and down on him, resting your hands on his chest as you did so. As much as he wanted you to enjoy yourself up there for as long as your heart desired, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with this view of you bouncing on him as you were.

A throaty groan escaped him. "I’m almost there... Keep going.” He panted, furrowing his brows and looking down at your slit going up and down his length. “Fuck I’m about to -”

You withdrew from him and moved to take him in your mouth, he shot his hands to your head and held you on him as he released in your throat, grunting and spasming until there was nothing left.

You swallowed him as you sat up, then wiped at your mouth. “Still got it.”

Garreth scoffed and threw an arm over his eyes while he recovered, using his free hand to rub your thigh. “Don’t mock me, I’m too vulnerable right now.”

You adjusted so that you were laying on top of him, he held you in his arms and ran his fingers lightly along your back. He looked up at the ceiling, completely at ease as you traced little shapes on his chest. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.

“Is the ball still going?” You asked.

“I think so.” He answered, his voice a little raspy.

“Want to go back before it ends?”

“Not particularly. Do you?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good, I want to stay like this a bit longer.”

You nodded your head and sighed. “Me too. After everything… after that last challenge…” Garreth held you tighter, not wanting you to think about such a horrific memory. “Tonight was everything. Thank you.”

Garreth placed his lips on top of your head. Then decided he wanted to be like this with you for more than just a bit longer. “Let me grab my wand.” You nodded your head and shifted so he could get up and search his clothes. “Ah, it’s in my coat.” He picked up his pants and put them back on. “I’ll be right back.”

You sat up to move towards your dress.

“No. Stay right where you are, exactly as you are.” He picked up his shirt, slipping it back on and only doing a few of his buttons.

You smiled and laid back down on the couch as he walked off.

It didn’t take long for Garreth to find his coat. He saw the baby puffskein and baby mooncalf napping on it, and decided to just grab his wand and leave it.

Once he did, he glanced around for the moonstone he thought he saw earlier while running for his life from you. A smile tugged at his lips thinking back on it.

Turning the moonstone he found into a large, furry blanket, he made his way back to you.

“Don’t worry this blanket came from moonstone.” He said as he splayed it out over you. “No magical beasts were harmed conjuring this.”

“Thank you.” You sighed gratefully, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself.

He shot you a smile as he undid his shirt, taking it off again. As he started undoing his belt and pants, he looked at the couch and furrowed his brows. “The couch wasn’t that big before, was it?”

You stiffened and used the blanket to hide your grin.

“Did you enlarge it?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled under the blanket.

“You had your wand this whole time?”

You turned away from him on the couch.

His eyes went wide at you as he pulled down his pants. “You minx! You just let me go out in the cold like that?” He came up and slid under the blanket behind you, pulling you back against him and closing his eyes. He sighed, exhausted. “To think I could have stayed naked this whole time...”

“I tried to get it but you told me to stay where I was.” You argued, the sleepiness clear as day in your voice.

He hummed in amusement. “I did, didn’t I? I’m such an idiot.” He cackled, sleepiness also coming through in his voice.

“No, you’re sweet.”

It didn’t take long at all for you two to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Dealing with Deek stumbling upon you two and possibly telling his Aunt Matilda seemed like a morning problem.

#garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x fem reader #garreth weasley angst

422 notes · View notes

wlntrsldler · 4 months

Text

now i see daylight | part i: don't you

song: don't you by taylor swift

series description: set after lust conquers all, jamie returns to richmond and takes accountability for treating you like shit.

warnings: language-- it's ted laso, what did ya expect?; mention of jamie's dad, misogyny, bff!sam, sad!jamie

pairing: jamie tartt x f! reader

word count: 2276 words

series masterlist | main masterlist

Working for AFC Richmond meant that strange things happened every day. Sometimes, you'd walk out on the pitch to find the team wheelbarrow racing, while the coaches stood and critiqued their techniques. Or sometimes you'd hear them passionately sing 'Baby' by Justin Bieber in the locker rooms before hearing absolute silence when Ludacris' rap came on. Then, you'd only hear Colin perfectly rapping on beat, and when Justin's voice came back, a roar of cheers for Colin's rapping skills followed.

Needless to say, there were so many strange things that happen at AFC Richmond that when a day is seemingly normal, that became the new version of strange.

But the strangest thing that has ever happened at AFC Richmond was when you walked into the locker room to find Jamie fucking Tartt smack-dab in the middle of the room, a million apologies on the tip of his tongue, as the rest of the team shouted all his wrongdoings at him.

Jamie Tartt is many things.

For one, he is a mama's boy. He loves Georgie beyond comprehension. He truly believes that the world's largest problems could be solved if people just hugged their mothers more often. His proof? All his problems vanish when he gets a hug from Georgie. Well, maybe not vanish, but they significantly decrease in urgency.

Two, he is a good football player. Scratch that, he knows that with the proper training and discipline, he’ll be regarded as one of the most legendary players to ever grace the Premier League. He has the potential to be great.

Three, he is a prick– a goddamn gigantic prick. This was something that he gladly accepted. He didn't come to Richmond to make friends. He came to Richmond to play some fucking football. He was fine being known as a top-notch, proper, prick.

This was true until he walked into the Richmond locker room and, hand to god, felt physical daggers being drilled into his entire body.

Jamie knew that coming back to Richmond would ruffle some feathers. Truthfully, if he was in their position, he didn't think he would've been able to walk through the front door without getting ripped to shreds. He walked towards his cubby, head hanging low, not wanting to stoke the flame. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. The locker room was dead silent until Isaac's voice echoed against the walls.

"Oi, Tartt," he yelled, "You have a lot of fucking nerve showing your face here again, bruv."

That started it. Before Jamie could even respond to Isaac, a million other things came barreling at him from different members of the team.

"You called me a jaundiced worm!"

"You hit on my mum, in front of my dad!"

"You cupped a fart and put it in my face!"

“I don’t know you, but I don’t like you!”

Then, the room fell silent. You walked in. Jamie stared at you, eyes pleading for you to spare him a smile like you used to. He twiddled his thumbs together, his tell of anxiety and doubt.

Ted blinked, finally stepping in after a few beats, "Alright, fellas, that's enough. I know emotions are runnin’ high, but we're going to have to find a way to work together. As a team– because that's what we are, a team. Alright?"

Murmurs of agreement, disgruntled agreements but agreements nonetheless, rang around the room. Ted patted Jamie on the back before motioning the coaches to follow him into the office. You watched them walk in and shut the door, unable to do anything but stand frozen in your spot, staring at Jamie.

"Are you alright?" Sam's concerned voice snapped you out of your trance.

"What the fuck is he doing here? Thought he hated this club.” You mumbled, rubbing your temples with the pads of your fingertips. Jamie hated the way that you were talking about him like he wasn’t there. Like he wasn’t in front of you, looking you in the eye. “His words.”

"Yeah," Sam replied, venom dripping from his lips. "His words."

"I guess you can never take Jamie Tartt's words at face value," you spat, bidding goodbye to Sam before walking away, leaving Jamie dumbstruck and alone in the locker room where everyone hated him.

Jamie knew that getting the team to accept him coming back to Richmond was going to take some time and a lot of effort. They all hated him– rightfully so. He’s fucked up. A lot. He was a prick to them when he was first loaned to Richmond. He said some nasty things about Ted to the media. And they absolutely had the right to tell him to fuck all the way off when he came back to Richmond after being the reason they were relegated. They could’ve told him that he should go descend into the shit hole he came out of and that every bad thing that was happening in his career was his fault. They could’ve let him become a “has-been” before he even reached his prime after he fucked his football career up by joining that stupid reality show.

But he knew he’d somehow win them over, eventually. Getting you to forgive him, though, was another story. The way your face morphed into a scowl, one that he’d only seen you use once and that was when Rupert showed up at Nelson Road unexpectedly, and aimed those words at him gave him the shivers. You don’t look at people like that.

You never looked at him like that.

–

It’s been weeks. Jamie has tried everything short of getting on his hands and knees and begging you to talk to him. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to apologize because you leave the room whenever he’s around. You walk away whenever he tries to talk to you. He’s even tried to get the team to help him.

Sam, who slowly opened up to him after Jamie proved that he could be trusted, tried to convince you to give Jamie a chance, which led you to ice Sam out for three days. Sam, who couldn’t go more than a few days without you, his best friend, apologized to Jamie and said there was nothing he could do. Jamie knew that if not even your best friend could convince you to talk to him, there was nobody in the club who could persuade you. He didn’t know what else to do, it seemed impossible. He didn’t want to give up, but it looked like the situation called for it.

Jamie’s eyes widened when he saw you walking toward the locker room by yourself. He quickly twisted the cap on his water bottle before jogging over to you. He called out, “Y/N! Wait up!”

You could pick out that accent from anywhere. You let out a sigh and did a complete 180 on your heels, walking back toward your office. The team PR opportunity can wait. You began to speed up as you heard him coming closer, but you should’ve known better than to try to outrun a professional footballer.

Jamie ran in front of you, blocking your path. You had no choice but to entertain his attempts this time. He smiled when he realized you weren’t making a move to escape him, but it quickly faded when that scowl overtook your features once more. His shoulders dropped, “Just wanted to say that I’m gonna stop tryin’ to talk to ya after this.”

You blinked in shock, eyes widening as you digested his words. Protectively, you held the binder closer to your chest, in case this was just a ploy. You stepped back, trying to make sense of the situation. After weeks of trying to talk to you, he’s going to give up just like that? Well, maybe it wasn’t just like that– you did avoid him like the plague.

He continued to speak when you didn’t make a sound, “Right, figured you weren’t gonna say ‘nything. Well, yeah, I just wanted to let you know that I get it. It took me a while to hear ya, but I’ve been talking to Doc Sharon and she said I need to start thinkin’ about what the people I care about need instead of always thinkin’ of myself.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Jamie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Yeah, ‘m trying to take accountability for my actions in the past and that includes how I treated ya. And how I been treatin’ you since I’ve been back. I keep thinkin’ about how much I miss ya and how badly I want a second chance with you, even though I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t,” you replied, lips in a tight line.

“Exactly,” Jamie wanted to smile even though your words weren’t anything to smile about. You basically confirmed that he had no chance with you, but he couldn’t even focus on that because you spoke to him. You actually said something to him. He bit the corner of his bottom lip before he continued, “So yeah, I realized that you just want me to leave ya alone and I respect that. I promise to only bother ya for brand deals and PR marketing shit. I’m sorry if I pissed you off these last few weeks. This is the last time. I-I just wanted to let you know.”

You kept your lips sealed, trying to control the emotions on your face. It seemed that you succeeded as Jamie simply nodded and walked away, but not before sending you a friendly smile and a wave of his hand.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, suddenly feeling very hot. At first you really did want to ignore Jamie, give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, that’s exactly what he did with you after Man City took him back. Once he was back in Manchester, your texts were going unanswered, phone calls gone straight to voicemail, and any shred of a relationship that the both of you shared vanished.

Before he left Richmond, you and Jamie spent a lot of time together– maybe too much time. Last season, you were a sports journalist turned photographer because the magazine your worked for were misogynistic fucks who thought sports articles written by women would never garner as much attention as those written by men. As much as you hated it, you needed money, so when they offered you a job as a photographer, you took it begrudgingly.

Jamie, being the self-centered prick that he was last season, spent a lot of time around you, hoping that you’d take more photos of him to post online. He pulled strings to let you into their private practices so you could get action shots of him and a few posed ones, though he’d never admit it. Somehow, those “candid” photos are the only ones he’d post on his socials.

Eventually, you became a regular addition to his life. He spent time with you outside of football and you found yourself seeing Jamie off the pitch in restaurants, bars, parties, basically anywhere a famous footballer might hang out. Your relationship blossomed into something else. Soon you were a regular at his apartment, which you thoroughly re-decorated because when you first got there it looked exactly like what you would expect a young, hot, single millionaire footballer’s apartment to look like.

He complained at first, saying that you were ruining his top-notch bachelor pad, but you once saw him snuggling into the throw blanket you bought for him on his couch after watching one too many episodes of The Office. Some nights, you’d sleep over because you were too tired to drive and Jamie would insist that you can stay in the guest bedroom. You’d reluctantly agree. Those nights, the both of you would stay up talking about anything and everything.

He told you about his dad on the fifth night. You told him about your asshole of a boss on the seventh. He told you about how he was scared to get comfortable at Richmond because everyone in his life that he’s ever cared about, barring Georgie, disappointed him somehow on the tenth. You told him that you might be falling in love with him that same night.

The next, you found out he was going back to Man City and you never spoke to him again.

Until today.

You spent those months hating him. And Jamie made it so easy to hate him. That was the thing about Jamie, he played the part too well. You watched in disgust as he bad-mouthed Ted and the team. You watched as he showboated during the game highlights on the recap shows. You watched as he scored the goal that caused Richmond to get relegated. Those public displays of why he deserved to be hated just added fuel to the fire of why you personally hated Jamie Tartt. But now, you found yourself searching for that Jamie because he was nowhere to be found and your feelings for him were creeping back in.

“Did Jamie just apologize to you?” Keeley asked, emerging from behind the wall. “Sorry, I was eavesdroppin’, babe.”

“No, it’s okay, Keels,” you said, looking at her. Your face was flushed, “Yeah, he did. Crazy, innit?”

“I dunno, Y/N,” she replied, thinking about how she was going to phrase her next few words. “It seems like he’s changed. Seems like he really wants to make amends.”

“Cheers to him,” you rolled your eyes, beginning to walk toward the locker room once more. “The day I give Jamie Tartt another chance is the day the world ends.”

part ii: treacherous

part iii: daylight

#ted lasso #ted lasso fics #ted lasso oneshot #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso series #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt series #frances writes #frances song fics

137 notes · View notes