looked for fire and smoke on the way back

Sugar Sweet  | 1 |

word count: 8.9k (seriously, what a mouthful)

genre: smut & fluff

reader/kihyun

masterlist

part 2 | part 3 | part 4part 5


Your best friend & roommate Changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. Instead you found solace in a pink haired man named Kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you.

Keep reading

You Are Home

Summary: Damon had found his home but there was never a happy ending. What he once lost can never be replaced or so he thought.

Pairings: Damon x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 3985

It felt weird to write something this long but I hope you guys like this story as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for your continual support and patience, guys!

(gifs not mine, credits to owners)

Parties left and right, music played all damn night. There wasn’t a dull day when you moved to the city. You were a pretty little thing who socialized with a lot of people, knew the commoners, and met the newcomers. 1920’s was the glitz, glamour, and jazz. In your personal taste, you loved the 20’s as much as you loved being the King’s little princess, you being you, didn’t really like non-extravagant lifestyle.

Keep reading

He goes through three random duffel bags before he finds what he’s looking for. Just as he’s about to make his move, Katsudon decides it’s the perfect moment to take a break from practicing the fastest step sequence anyone’s probably ever attempted and come off the ice to hang out for a bit before I meet Victor for lunch, it’s been a while since it was just us. And of course he immediately zeroes in on the lighter in Yuri’s hand, because there is a helicopter parent trapped inside Katsudon’s chubby ass that finds every opportunity to come out and make Yuri’s life a waking nightmare. 

“Yurio,” Katsudon gasps, positively breathless with disappointment. He looks like he’s two seconds away from crying, turning himself over to the police for gross negligence, or both. “Have you started smoking?”

Keep reading

The Kitchens

Sirius and Remus: A king and a commoner from two different worlds who will break all the rules for love.

Part i

(This has been mostly re-written from previous posts and this is how I will be continuing the story from here on out!)


Sirius set out for the West parlor, wondering if maybe he could sleep a while on one of the couches. His bare feet were cool against the July-warmed stone, even at night. He wished he could enjoy this more, like he usually did, with the absence of prying eyes. But his head ached, spinning with thoughts of the ever-looming events that summer’s end promised. There were fall’s many festivals, hunting trips. And among these things, the promise of a bride. He’d be eighteen in November. He’d known what eighteen meant for as long as he could remember. It was inevitable, a pressing weight on his chest. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head: Alliances are needed, Sirius. You’ll be a king one day and you’ll need a powerful Queen at your side. And besides, fall weddings are lucky.

Sirius rubbed at his eyes, huffing as he turned blindly into the room he knew to well, only to find it bathed in a soft warm glow, not dark and quiet like he’d expected. He let his hand drop to his side, taken off guard by the light-soaked walls, and he froze. Because there was a boy there. His heels were coming out of his shoes as he crouched over the softly roasting coals of the beginning of one of the Black castle’s many fires. Sirius realized too late that he’d been standing there too long to make any sort of proper introduction.

Of all the words in his grand vocabulary, his mind decided to settle on, “Oh.”

The boy jumped. He went to stand up too fast and ended up thumping his head painfully against the brick under edge of the fireplace. Sirius cursed at the same time the boy did.

“Christ James, I told you to do the East Wing-“

The boy spoke at the same time that he turned. He cut off just as he saw Sirius.

“Oh.” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, “My Lord. I didn’t realize…”

And Sirius watched it happen, just as it always did. He watched the boy’s back straighten, he watched the front go up.

Sirius huffed, annoyed. He made his way around the sofa slowly, fingers trailing against the plush fabric as he did, “Didn’t realize I’d be in my own castle?”

The boy frowned. He looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes but thought better of it, “Not at these hours. My Lord.” He added the last part hastily, half-heartedly, and a bit heatedly.

“I’d ask you the same question.” Sirius did narrow his eyes. He was allowed to.

The boy looked like he was biting his tongue before he spoke, “I was to light the fires this morning, my Lord.”

Sirius froze, expression flickering, “Morning?”

The boy glanced out the window briefly, “Morning, my Lord.”

Sirius followed his eyes, only to see that it was morning. He blinked at the dawning sky, the world still pink, and cleared his throat, “Oh.”

“Have-“ The boy hesitated until Sirius looked back at him. His expression slightly softer but guarded still, “have you been out all night? Around the castle? My Lord.”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his face, “You don’t have to add that after every sentence.” He pressed his thumbs into his eyes, as if trying to rub the fatigue out, before looking back at the boy. He had flour on his cheek, a bit of ash on his temple.

“Yes.” He looked back out the window, “I guess so.”

He didn’t think he’d been walking all night and yet there was the sun, peaking over the mountains.

The boy crouched down, scraping the iron fire poker back up and prodding at the coals with it, “Sometime on your mind, my Lord?”

Sirius felt annoyance flare up again, “I said-“

But he stopped, words catching in his throat. He shouldn’t admit it—really he couldn’t admit it—not out loud anyways—but, now that he was looking, really looking, the boy was a bit of a beautiful sight. Maybe it was just the firelight, or lack of sleep, but the thought sprang to the front of Sirius’ mind so quickly he just… thought it.

He shifted, clearing his throat, “No.” He meant to turn away, maybe leave, but instead he sat down, “No. I simply lost track of time.”

The fire light made the boy’s eyes look like a a pot of melting amber when he turned towards Sirius, expression forwardly quizzical, “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius frowned, “Do you not know my name?”

The boy raised an eye brow, “My Lord?”

“Do you not. Know my name.” Sirius repeated, “Is that why you refuse to use it, even upon my request?”

It was still quite dark, but Sirius could have sworn the boy flushed. He turned back to poking the fire.

“You know, you aren’t doing that right.” Sirius continued when he still didn’t answer.

The boy kept poking, not looking away, “I’m not usually in charge of the fires.” He mumbled.

Sirius leaned forward, “No, you see, they aren’t going to stay alight like that. Didn’t you- no, stop, stop.” Sirius swiftly moved to crouch next to the boy, putting his hand over his on the poker, “Watch. You need it to be…” He guided their hands to push the embers towards the center, “Like such. That way the smoke goes up and the heat goes out. See now?”

“I… Yes. How did you…”

Sirius shrugged, “It’s from hunting trips, really. Probably the only useful survival skill I know. Proves I’m not completely helpless.”

“That’s not what James says.”

Sirius did his best to look aghast but it ended as more of a smile, surprising himself, “That’s how you address your superiors?”

The boy looked like he was trying not to smile too, “A moment ago you were begging me to call you Sirius.”

Sirius turned sharply away from the coals, taken off guard. He tightened his grip on the iron. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his name from a servant’s mouth before. James, his valet, called him Sirius. He had just never heard his name quite like that. Soft, gentile. The way this boy said it… it almost made him sound like a good person.

Sirius continued with the fire, “So the truth is out. You do know my name.”

The boy wrapped his arms around his knees, watching the coals. His sandy hair flopped nicely into his eyes, “Everyone in the world probably knows your name.”

Sirius laughed softly, and he found that it lightened the heavy feeling in his chest considerably, “Well. I think you’re sorely misjudging the size of the world.”

The boy looked at him, features extraordinarily soft in the firelight. Sirius’ heart caught.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” He said quietly, “It isn’t like I’ve seen any of it.”

“S’not that great, really.” Sirius said softly. It was, but Sirius wasn’t about to say that. He cleared his throat instead, “Well, there’s the fire for you-“

He cut himself off again, this time with a curse. He tumbled back on his heels, the poker clattering to the floor, his left hand burning.

“Fuck-“ He unclenched his fist, seeing an angry red mark already forming across his knuckles.

The boy cursed, “Shit, the coals. I forgot to put the gate up- one rolled out- I- your highness-“

“I’m fine,” Sirius grit his teeth, “It’s just a little hot, I-“

“Oh come off it, that’s more than a little hot-” The second the words were out of the boy’s mouth his eyes were wide, “Oh god. I-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the your highness, at the horror on the boy’s face when he’d slipped and spoken to Sirius like a normal person.

The boy pressed his lips together, the hollows of his cheeks pink. He directed his gaze to Sirius’ injured hand, “We should really get something for that.”

Sirius nodded, “You can rouse Pomfrey for me.”

The boy stood, “I think I can help you, actually… if you like.” He offered Sirius a hesitant hand.

Sirius took it. He didn’t even think about it, he just let this boy pull him up, cradling his injured one to his chest, “I don’t even know your name.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can help either way.”

Sirius stretched his knuckles hesitantly, then flinched, “What’s your name?” He asked again.

The boy’s face fell a fraction, and Sirius suddenly realized he had been trying to be friendly, maybe funny even, and Sirius had taken it for disrespect.

“Remus.” He said shortly, “It’s Remus.” He turned, leading the way out of the room.

“Like the myth?” Sirius followed him.

“What myth?”

“The Roman one. With the wolf. The founding of Rome, surely you know it.”

Remus glanced behind him, “Sorry, no.”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “Didn’t you learn it in school?”

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius fell into stride with him, “You’re assuming I went to school.”

Sirius’ steps faltered, “I- oh.”

“Not all of us grow up in castles, not to mention princes.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ profile as they walked down the servant’s staircase. It was hard to read. He’d been the one trying to lighten the mood that time and, once again, they’d misunderstood each other.

“I didn’t mean any offense.” Sirius offered.

Remus sent him a small smile, “And yet…”

Sirius suddenly felt very aware of his words, his accent, even his attire, all in comparison to Remus. He felt overdressed in his maroon robe, the gold embroidery feeling flashy and unnecessary next to Remus’ plain white shirt, littered with stains from work.

Remus shook his head gently at him as they entered the kitchen, “I’m joking. It’s alright, you didn’t know.” he nodded towards the countertop, “sit there.”

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck, “I suppose I should have known…” His eyes widened, “I mean-“

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sit.”

“-not that I would assume you didn’t have an education-“

Sit, Sirius.”

Sirius pushed himself up onto the counter, silently kicking himself. Silently relishing the way Remus said his name. He watched wordlessly as Remus set ingredients out on the counter next to him. Honey, and a lemon.

“Well… this is odd.”

Remus looked at Sirius, “You’ve never seen this before?”

Sirius shook his head.

Remus smirked, slicing the lemon in half effortlessly, barely even glancing down, “Well, you’re obviously not learning everything with that education of yours, are you?”

Sirius straightened a little, almost prepared to snap a retort, but he caught onto the joke this time—just barely. Sirius looked away but smiled.

Remus held his palm out, “Give your hand here.”

Sirius glanced nervously at the lemon, “Won’t that hurt?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and held out his hand more insistently, “What do you think the honey’s for? It will only sting for a moment…”

For the second time that night, Sirius relinquished his hand.

Sirius watched Remus’ brow furrow as he gently pressed the the cross section of the lemon across Sirius’ slightly blistered knuckles. Sirius hissed, then tried to turn it into a cough. He pointedly ignored Remus’ smirk.

Remus’ fingers were cool against the irritated skin around the burn, and Sirius drew his lip between his teeth as Remus carefully smeared a bit of honey over the aching cut. The thick paste relieved the throbbing to a duller pain.

“Christ.”

Remus wiped his hands on a kitchen rag, “More useful than a Roman myth, huh?”

Sirius scoffed, “I apologized.”

“Is that how world affairs are settled then? Apologies?” Remus smiled, producing a bandage from the same cupboard the honey had come from. His long fingers worked nimbly as he wraps Sirius’ hand.

“This is hardly a worldly affair..” Sirius said under his breath. Remus glanced at Sirius, looking at him flatly, then sighed, finishing the wrap.

“There. If it starts to hurt again, I- or I mean Madame Pomfrey can-“

“I’ll find you if it hurts.” Sirius’s mouth said it before he could think on it, and he slid from the counter.

Remus nodded slowly, “Oh. Right.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the countertop, looking down at Remus, “Right.”

Remus glanced around Sirius nervously, “People will probably be waking soon.”

Sirius nodded, although he hadn’t really heard what Remus had said. They were standing quite close, “Right.”

Remus seemed a bit breathless when he spoke again, “We have to prepare your breakfast…”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, “Do you prepare the breakfast?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, “I prepare your breakfast.”

Sirius blinked, “Really?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder, “When you take it in your room at least. Which is-“

“-most days.” Sirius finished. He cocked his head slightly, “But how do you know?”

Remus shook his head, confused, “Know?”

“That I’m having it upstairs.”

Remus paused for a moment, as if waiting for Sirius to continue, or to laugh. Then his eyebrows raised very high to his hairline and he let out a burst of laughter, “Honestly?”

Sirius stepped back a step, cheeks heating, “What?”

Remus quickly stopped laughing, noticing Sirius’ offended gaze, “No- No, I’m sorry,” His eyes filled with something that looked like dissapointment. Sirius felt that same emotion stirring in his chest, although he didn’t quite know why, “It’s just… you really don’t know how we work down here, do you?”

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably, trying not to jostle his hand too much, “Well…” He tried to think of some excuse, shrugging, “When I come down here everyone stops working to ask what I want.”

“They’re suppose to do that.” Remus points out.

“Yes, but that explains why I don’t know how it works.” Sirius spluttered.

Remus smiled, “Fine, fine… Lord, I’m sitting here arguing with a Prince… James tells me.”

Sirius, fully prepared for a defense again, deflated some, “Oh.” He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I guess I should have thought of that.”

Remus shrugged, eyes teasing, “I guess.”

Sirius found he much preferred this boy to look at him like that than how he had just been, “Education… Education’s not everything, I suppose.”

When Remus smiled shyly at his own words being reflected back at him, Sirius felt something, some wall, crack a little. He smiled.

There was a creak from the floorboards above causing both boys to look up, then back down at each other. They were nearly nose to nose, and Sirius quite enjoyed that he had to look down a bit to meet Remus’ eyes.

“I- you may want to go.”

Sirius nodded. The thought of being surrounded by bustling activity, having to answer why he was down here in the first place, was suddenly very unappealing, “Yes. I should. I-“

The stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Well. Thank you… for the honey. Not for the burn.” He nodded shortly, not moving away just yet.

“Oh. Yes.” Remus was breathless again, eyes fixed on Sirius, “Thank you for… the myth. Not for the condescension.”

When he was safe in his room again, the sun peaking through the seam in his dark, heavy curtains, Sirius couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his face; at the eyes that filled his thoughts, at the boy in the kitchen, at the eggs he woke up to a few hours later.

~

“Sirius, you have dinner in a half hour. And it isn’t you your mum kills if you’re late, its me, so, please, if we could just-“

Sirius looked up from the hot water surrounding him to where James was leaning against the doorway, making frantic hurry up motions.

“James, I am naked and thoroughly enjoying my bath so if you could stop staring at me. Also, I don’t know if that statement is entirely correct… I recall being murdered quite a few times. Pass me that cloth, would you?”

James rolled his eyes, reminding Sirius with a pang of his late night run in from just a few hours ago, and more threw it at him.

Sirius glared, “I can have you fired. Turned out of the castle.”

James glared, lying down on the plush bench along the bath, feet by Sirius’ head.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “For that too.”

James laughed at the ceiling, hands behind his head, eyes closed, “Yes, but you won’t.”

Sirius grinned, then hissed as his burned hand touched the hot water. James raised an eyebrow.

“What happened there, anyway?”

Sirius started, making a show of soaking the towel and squeezing the excess water out, “Oh. Just a burn. Some clumsy-one of your lot didn’t know how to handle the tea.”

James scoffed, “Well, that wasn’t rude at all.”

Sirius blinked, then sank further into the water, sighing, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

James sighed, closing his eyes again, “I know, don’t worry.”

“You seem to be the only one that does…” He grumbled under his breath, images of disappointed and disapproving amber eyes crossing his mind.

James peaked one eye open, “Huh?”

Sirius let the cloth go and watched it slowly sink to the bottom of the large tub, “Nothing.”

James looked at him for a moment longer, but knew better than to push. Instead, he stood, snagging a large towel and laying it in his place on the bench, “I’m getting your dinner clothes ready. You’ve had long enough, get out.”

“Yes, mum.”

“Don’t insult me.” James called over his shoulder.

~

Sirius, despite the torment, sat perfectly still through dinner. He felt like a caged animal that had been trained to do so—especially with guests around which, given the fact that they were the royal family, there was always the nobles and some duke and duchess from god knows where around to dine with. He listened his mother talk politics, he watched his father talk politics—if not in a slightly more slurred fashion and into his whiskey glass. He watched his brother, Regulus, sit there silently, glaring at his food as if it had personally offended. He was only glad his cousins weren’t in town. Well, maybe Andromeda. She never was the worst of the lot at least.

He wished for probably the thousandth time in his life that James could sit at the dinner table with him, or that maybe he could sit at James’ dinner table. He almost didn’t care that it was with the rest of the servants—no. No, he didn’t care. He glared at his mother, shoving a piece of duck into his mouth. He knew he had her to thank for those elitist slip-ups.

As if this wasn’t torment enough, his hand positively ached. Remus’ remedy had long washed off in the bath, and with the dry cotton wrap rubbing against it every time he cut his food, it felt like there was a coal being pressed against his skin all over again. Highly distracting. He told himself he would go to Pomfrey after dinner, perhaps skip dessert for it all together.

That’s what he told himself he would do.

When the time came for puddings and cakes he stood, scraping his chair back and pointedly ignoring his mother’s look.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Some idiot servant burned me with tea this morning,” The slur rolled as effortlessly off his tongue as the lie did, “I’m going to seek Pomfrey.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, only for a man to open the dining room doors for him. He swept through the halls, hand cradled to his chest, with the full intention of making his way to the castle infirmary. His found his feet straying, however. He took a turn, trotting down the staircase he had taken the previous night, not realizing where he was or what he was doing until he was already hovering in the doorway.

~

Remus all but collapsed onto the stool by the large island, letting the heat still radiating from the kitchen fireplace warm the aching muscles of his back.

“Well, that sorts it then,” Mrs. Potter, the cook, rubbed her hands together, dusting flour residue from then, “Another dinner done right, Remus, hm?”

Remus gave her a tired, half smile, “Right.”

“Splendidly done, of course!” James entered the kitchen, carefully avoiding the various things dusting the table—he was still in his valet tails—as he took the stool next to Remus, leaning over to press a kiss to his mum’s cheek, “Please tell me you saved some-“

Remus pushed a plate of three Walnut cookies towards him. James all but growled.

“You’re a saint.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Not quite.”

“I believe he was talking to me.” Mrs. Potter chuckled kindly, “I’m off for some tea and then bed. Remus, make sure that fire is out properly before you go up, yeah?”

Remus nodded, accepting a half of cookie James broke off for him. He watched her kiss her son and then exit, chewing in silence.

Remus felt the question rise back to the tip of his tongue, the one he’d almost asked at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Only it was ten times stronger now that he and James were alone.

He cleared his throat, “Um. James?”

“Hm?” James took another cookie, offering half to Remus again who shook his head this time.

“Is… Is the prince…”

James arched an eyebrow when Remus trailed off.

Remus huffed, “What’s he like exactly?”

James snorted a little, smiling and popping another bit into his mouth, “What do you think he’s like?”

“Rather rude.” Remus said before he could stop himself, “I- I just mean. He doesn’t understand much, does he?”

“About us? God, no.” He shook his head, “Barely realizes the things he says sometimes… I suppose that’s where the rudeness would come in.”

Remus nodded, silently begging James to go on. He didn’t know why he was so curious but he’d practically had to will himself to sleep last night, and even then it was restless. Even then a certain rude, condescending prince invaded his thoughts. He’d ended up coming down to make the bread an entire hour and a half early.

“But, that being said and all… he’s not all bad. He’s just…” James shrugged, “he’s sheltered, I suppose. Doesn’t have a clue what the real world’s like. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought everyone got their breakfast served on a silver tray in bed each day.” Remus snorted with him, “But, y’know, he treats me well. If he does say something and I correct him, it takes him a minute but he apologizes-“

“You correct him?”

James waves a hand, “We’ve been together since we were kids, I’m more than allowed.”

Remus nods. James had grown up here. He tried to imagine a younger version of the boy he’d met last night playing with a servant boy. He frowned.

“Why so curious all of a sudden?”

Remus blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, “What?”

“You’ve never asked about Sirius before.”

“Oh.” Remus shifted in his chair, “I. I just- I…” For the life of him, he couldn’t think of something to say. With James still looking at him so curiously, his shoulders deflated and he sighed, “I met him. Last night.”

James’ eyebrows raised to his hairline, “Really? How?”

“I was doing the fires in the West Parlor and he walked in—I think he’d been walking all night… And- and then I burned his hand.” Remus finished miserably.

You burned his hand? With tea?”

Remus blinked, “What? No. He took it upon himself to show me how to do my job,” fresh annoyance bloomed in Remus’ chest, “and I forgot to shut the gate. Then I took him down hear and wrapped it for him-“

“Jesus, he didn’t mention any of this.” James laughed.

Remus stuttered for a moment, willing the disappointment that closed in, snuffing out the annoyance to dissipate. Why would he mention it? Sirius’ words echoed in his ears.

This is hardly a world affair

“Well. I-“ Remus huffed, “I just wondered what you thought. He started spewing all this shit about Roman myths and what the world was like and he practically assumed I didn’t have an education…” Not quite true, but Remus was suddenly a little furious at the prince. For depriving him of sleep, for the way he spoke, for the way he dressed, for everything he was. Everything he stood for. Everything Remus wasn’t.

James laughed again, shoving the last bit of cookie towards Remus, “Think you need this more than I do.”

“Shut up.” Remus fought the soft smile that played on his face.

James held his hands up in surrender and pushed back from the table, “Alright, alright. I’m going up. You need anything?”

Remus shook his head, “No, got most of everything done already. Just the fire. Might stay down here a while longer. Clean the counter… or something.”

James nodded, rapped his knuckles on the table twice, and set off for the stairs. Remus listened to his footsteps fade, and then leaned his elbows onto the table, head in his hands. He really should go to bed too. He’d had an even longer day than usual, but he was restless, mind working overdrive—annoyingly so.

Another set of footsteps approached from the main stairs leading to the house. He assumed it was a waiter, Peter maybe, and didn’t bother looking up, even when they stopped and hovered in the doorway.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Remus started so hard he banged his knee painfully into one of the pans hanging on a hook under the island. He spun, standing up and swaying slightly on his feet. He tried to ignore how hard his heart was racing at the sight he was met with, the person he had been thinking about since five this morning.

Sirius chewed on his lower lip before offering a small smile, “I keep doing that to you, I apologize.”

Remus finds himself unable to answer for a moment, eyes locked on stormy gray ones.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, glancing downwards, and it is then that Remus realizes he’s holding his injured hand gingerly against his chest, the wrap he’d given him yesterday clumsily falling apart to reveal his knuckles, looking rubbed raw and worse off than before.

“I’m here fore further treatment.” He says matter of factly, spine straightening, “I’m afraid the pain has returned. Although I’m not sure it ever really left.”

Remus wanted to narrow his eyes at the tone. Sirius didn’t seem to be giving him an option in the matter. Instead, he sighed.

“Yes. Right. Um. Sit there.” He pushed the stool forward with his leg and busied himself with the honey and lemon like before, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel Sirius eyes on him. He took James’ seat, scooting it until he was close enough to rest Sirius’ hand on his knee, his knee that he realized too late was slotted rather snuggly between Sirius’ thighs. He cleared his throat, ignoring the heat that rose on his neck.

“You probably should have come sooner. The skin’s irritated now.”

“You’re the expert, you could’ve come to me.” Sirius pointed out.

“Right, okay, would that be before or after I was making your meals?”

He couldn’t help it. He slipped, the anger coming through. He didn’t look up to see it register in Sirius’ face. When Sirius didn’t retort, guilt started to set in. He rolled his neck a little, trying to stretch out his sore muscles, “Sorry.”

Sirius was silent for a moment longer, “It’s alright… You’re tired.”

Remus couldn’t help the slightly bitter laugh that escaped, “You’ve got that right. Didn’t sleep much last night.” No thanks to you.

“Oh.” Remus thinks he hears a small note of interest in his voice, surprise maybe, “Well. Hot water is relaxing. Might help. Maybe with some oils. Chamomile is-“

“That probably would help.” Remus interjected, only a little heatedly. He shouldn’t say it, he knows Sirius is just trying to help, maybe even make up for his snide comments if what James says about him is true, but he’s tired and confused and restless, “If we had hot water.”

He regrets the words the instant they’re out of his mouth. This time he does glance up at Sirius who, to his surprise, closed his eyes, a pained expression coming across his face. He breathed harshly out through his nose. Remus’ hands stills where they’re holding Sirius’ injured one.

“I don’t mean to do that, you know…”

And Remus’ heart speeds up a little. Because it sounds genuine enough. It’s sent racing when Sirius’ eyes blink back open slowly. He looks sorry, he really does.

“Yeah…I’m catching onto that I think.” Remus says softly.

Sirius’ teeth worry his bottom lip, “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, “Yeah.”

They stare at each other for a second longer, and Remus realizes with a start that his eyes have moved to his lips at the same time as Sirius clears his throat, glancing at the plate that was previously filled with walnut cookies. There’s still a bit of one, the bite Remus had never taken.

“I don’t suppose you’d have any more of those?” He asks timidly.

Remus looks down at Sirius’ hand, which is only half bandaged and tries to finish the job as quickly as he can, “Did you not just eat?”

“I skipped dessert. Hand hurt to bad. It’s really the least you could do since you were the cause of this…”

Remus jerks his head up, fully prepared to fucking bite Sirius’ head off, when he sees the smirk.

He rolls his eyes, not even bothering to feel off about it, and smirks back, “Yes, your highness.”

He’s surprised when Sirius’ face falls, and he looks down to his hand, retrieving it from Remus’ grasp quickly and cradling it back to his chest.

“Sirius.” Remus corrects himself quickly, and relief fills his chest when Sirius glances up once more, smile just beneath the surface, “And yeah, I think we have a few.”

Tano and Kenobi: The Best Laid Plans

Previously on Tano and Kenobi

Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano and Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi have been assigned to observe Jedi Master Plo Koon as he travels to Raxus on the Outer Rim to facilitate a peace treaty in a civil war between two systems. Tensions are high on both sides and the negotiations promise to be explosive…

First | Previous | Next | AO3


Ahsoka knew something was wrong when she set foot in the airy, circular chamber where the two sides of the conflict, the mother system of Acronae and the daughter colony of Acromino, were arguing. Both groups of diplomats, huddled together around two separate tables, jerked their heads around to stare at the arrival of the Jedi and Raxus Senator Issa Fensani. Obi-Wan peered around Ahsoka, anxious curiosity hovering around him like a light mist. As usual, Master Plo Koon was a still pond, cool and serene as he followed the Senator down through the aisles of desks to greet the delegates.

“Honored guests,” Senator Fensani announced as he came to the center of the floor. “May I present Jedi Master Plo Koon, Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano and her Padawan Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi. They will be assisting us as we work towards a fair and equitable resolution to this unfortunate dispute between your peoples.”

“Welcome, Master Jedi,” the head diplomat, Kida Morastus of the Acronae party said, bowing low. “We are honored by your presence.”

“As are the free people of Acromino,” came the sharp retort from Kraspen Loren, the lead diplomat from the other party. “But I’m afraid you’ve come a long way from Coruscant for nothing, Master Jedi. I don’t see how your presence will soften the hard heart of our former overlords.”

Obi-Wan looked up at Ahsoka, who met his eye and gave him a minute shake of her head.

Now is not the time for questions, Padawan, Ahsoka thought, hoping that the feeling would get across, even if the words didn’t. Their bond hadn’t quite advanced to the level where they could could effectively communicate without words, the way Master Obi-Wan and Anakin had been able to.

Obi-Wan nodded and said nothing.

“‘Overlords’?! ‘Overlords’!” one of the Acronaens sniffed, pointing a finger at the other party involved. “Listen to how they speak of us, Master Jedi! There will be no peace with these… these terrorists!”

The simmering resentment on both sides threatened to ignite into violence and it made the hair on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck stand up. Ahsoka pursed her lips and scanned the crowd, wondering why two groups who claimed to want peace were nearly about to come to blows before any kind of official talks took place. It didn’t make any sense. What had poisoned the peace talks while they were in hyperspace?

Plo Koon held up both hands, stepping directly between the two parties. “Tensions here are clearly high. I suggest we break for the day and return tomorrow after a full night’s rest.”

Ahsoka watched the assembled delegates, nodding in reluctant agreement. The two sides retreated to their little huddles to discuss the Jedi’s suggestion as Plo Koon turned back to the Senator and Ahsoka. “If there were any formal plans for this evening, I think it would be prudent to cancel them, Senator Fensani.”

“I agree, Master Jedi,” the Senator nodded, bowing to Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as he took his leave and headed back towards the exit to cancel whatever plans Raxus had in store for their guests.

“Something isn’t right here,” Ahsoka murmured to Plo Koon, Obi-Wan leaning closer to catch their soft whispers back and forth. “I can’t put my finger on it but… something is going to happen. Something bad.”

“Then we must be mindful of the Force and its warnings as we proceed forward,” Plo Koon replied, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the two sides to come to an agreement. He seemed outwardly calm but Obi-Wan knew something was amiss when he saw the master rest his hand on his belt just a breath away from his lightsaber.

Ahsoka turned to Obi-Wan. “Padawan? Why don’t you go join Senator Fensani? We’ll catch up to you once we’re done.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, to inform his master that he was supposed to stay by her and Master Plo’s side, but something cold and sharp suddenly pierced his gut with fear and foreboding. It was a sensation he had never felt before and he looked up at Ahsoka, his eyes round with fright. “Master… Something is wrong.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve AND Nat finding out that she's older than him together. Add some romance or something similar please.

Thick snow drifted to the ground while the abandoned Siberian hangar was engulfed in flames. Cinders rose into the sky, swirling beside smoke and ash. The flames would take the surrounding complex next. Sparks landing on nearby shingles had already begun to burn.

Searching room to room, Steve located Natasha near a row of filing cabinets. The room was far enough from the burning to not be on fire, but close enough that it will be gone before the hour is up. Smoke drifted down the hallway ceiling trying to creep its way into every room. Amidst a pile of crumbling folders, Natasha sat on the floor. She held a brown file open in her lap.

When she didn’t look up, Steve knelt nearby. Leaning close, he saw a black and white photos of a smiling family with a red-haired girl. The mother hugged the girl tight, while the father had his hand on the mother’s back. He beamed at his family, and the little girl beamed back at him.

“That’s me,” is all she said. While she stared at the photo, Steve looked over the Russian text. Inked letters written in a flowing hand onto the top margin. He couldn’t read much. The only thing he could make out was the date.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Who would have guessed I’m the old one?”

Leaning in, he gave her cheek a kiss, and took her hand. Gently he tugged her up. “Let’s read this outside.”

How could I forget?

Bellamy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, nsfw, Dom!Bellamy, Sub!Reader, outdoor sex, fingering, oral, minor torture, injuries, cussing, Bellamy fluff

Request:
blu3tid3s- Hello lovely! I was wondering if I could get a romantic!smut Bellamy x reader imagine? One where (Y/N) thought she and Bell would get another chance down on earth. Where they wouldn’t have to worry about the chancellor or the rules, but on earth it became the Bellamy show. (Y/n) was suddenly forgotten to him, it seemed. They get into a fight and (Y/N) tells Bell how it seems like she isn’t important anymore, that she doesn’t matter and Bell makes it his mission to prove to her that she’s wrong. Things get heated from there.

Well, here you go I guess. Sorry it took me so long, but it is quite a long fic. I am still trash and this gets hella smutty in the end, so enjoy! 😄

_________________________________________

“Prisoner 2-1-8, face the wall.” You do as Shumway says. “What’s going on?” You ask, clenching your fists. “Quiet! Hold out your right arm.” This command coming from the guard with the riot helmet. You turn around to see a box lined with heavy, metallic wristbands.

“No, Mr. Shumway, I-I don’t turn eighteen for another week!” You try to explain as the other man grabs your arm. Placing the wristband on you. It hurts like a son of a-.

They start dragging you down the halls. You see only a few other prisoners being dragged off. The rest of the cells are empty.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Shumway and the guard with the riot helmet pulled you forward, moving even faster to the dropship.

“Where are you taking me?” The urgency in your voice only gets you an eye roll and another jank forward. You start to lean against them once you feel a prick in your side. The masked guard’s tranquilizer gun has gone off against your ribs. The last thing you hear before blacking out is a familiar voice, saying: “It’s gonna be ok, Y/n. I’m right here with you…”

A single thought echoes through your mind- He’s here…Bellamy.

***

You wake up to the sound of loud buzzing and metal clanking. You’re strapped into place. There’s people all around you, prisoners.

Soon enough the whole dropship shakes violently. A few girls scream beside you. “That was the atmosphere.” You hear a guy explain. The tv screens turn wavy and gray before a familiar face appears. Chancellor Thelonius Jaha.

“Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance.” His voice seems awfully calm, enough that it kinda makes you want to rip off his head. You wrap your fingers around the seat straps. “And as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. Indeed for mankind itself.” Is he really talking about…the ground?

“We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

Expendable! Expendable? He kept talking but listening to this crap would’ve made you even angrier and more confused than you already were. You were grinding your teeth and clenching your fists. Barely even noticing anything that Jaha was saying. Something about Mount Weather, supplies, other things about getting your records wiped clean. All most definitely bullshit.

You see one of the boys float past you. Yes, float. He’s mid air. Doing flips and grinning. “Whoo! Yeah! Spacewalker strikes again!” Nearly everyone around you is cheering for the idiot that unstrapped himself from his seat. He’s conversing with two of the more ‘elite’ prisoners. A blond girl, you presume that’s Clarke, a council member’s daughter. And a black guy, Wells Jaha. He himself had never done anything to you. You’d barely even talked. But everything his father had done made you despise him. That may be unfair, but it is true.

More idiots start leaving their seats. Doing everything in their power to well…resist the power. To resist Clarke, whose voice sounds pathetic now, trying to get everyone back in line.

Suddenly, metal clanks, people fly against the floor and walls of the dropship, everyone screams and shrieks, sparks fly and smoke arises from the broken pipes. Everyone is freaking out. It must’ve been the parachutes, you presume. Atleast they deployed. You feel another kick. The rockets. It takes only a minute for the machines to dial down.

“Listen. No machine hum.” A kid states close by. That’s a first. It’s all…quiet. For a moment there is just, deafening silence. That is until everyone starts unbuckling their seatbelts. Clarke rushes to the idiot pancakes, who no longer seem to be breathing. Everyone else heads to the lower level. To the door.

“Back it up guys!” -Bellamy. He is here. You’d almost forgotten hearing his raspy voice. He argues with Clarke about opening the door. At some point Octavia shows up, hugging Bellamy. She’s really grown since you last saw her. You never even knew she existed until the day they’d dragged her off to the Sky Box. Bellamy was a mess after that, but no matter what, you’d always stood by his side.

The people start pointing at her, calling her the girl under the floor. Bellamy has to hold her back so she doesn’t attack anyone. He suggests that she should be the first one on the ground in a hundred years. Bellamy pulls the lever and the dropship door lowers.

An almost blinding light hits your eyes. You’re standing behind a lot of people, hoping not to be noticed.

“We’re back, bitches!” Octavia yells as she steps on the ground. Everyone runs out of the dropship, cheering. You follow the masses.

Your mind is wiped clean as the fresh air brushes against your face. It smells, sweet. For the first time, your surroundings have a life of their own. Everything’s colorful. Filled with the most beautiful shades of green. There’s bushes and trees all over. The sun has never seemed more beautiful, never been warmer. The sky is a bright blue, instead of the harsh black you’d only ever seen before. It’s breathtaking. The ground has give, it seems soft under your boots, unlike the cold floors back on the Ark.

“Y/n!?” You turn around to see him. Bellamy slowly comes closer to you. “Oh god, it’s so good to see you, Y/n!” He picks you up, wrapping you in his warm embrace. You hug him back, barely believing that this isn’t all just an illusion. You’re on the ground, you’re free, you’re with him. This only ever happened in your best dreams.

“I missed you so much…” Your voice sounds as a weak whimper against his shoulder. You won’t let yourself cry in front of all these people, though you wanted to. “I missed you too, Babe. So much.” He whispers in your hair. “I need to get a few things sorted, I’ll be right back.” He pecks you on the lips and turns around, jogging towards a group of guys. As much as it confuses you, as much as you want him to stay right there and drag this moment out forever, you understand. He knows what he’s doing, this is for the best.

***

It’s been a week. Bellamy has taken complete control over the camp. They’re building a wall to keep out the grounders. They had Jasper, one of the kids who had gone out to try and bring food back from Mount Weather. You had mostly been on food duty, though Bellamy rarely let you leave his sight.

He was always around, but never completely there. You two shared a tent, but rarely ever spent time there together. You understood that Bellamy felt like he was the only one who could handle things around camp. That he felt like he needed to be available for assistance 24 hours a day.

That hadn’t made him very available for you. Even his kisses seemed distant, urgent. As if he would rather be somewhere else.

You were half way to downing another cup of Monty’s moonshine. It tasted like crap, but it got the job done. You’re glaring at the back of Bellamy’s neck from a distance. Hoping not to be seen but not really caring.

“Hey, Y/n, right?” Octavia walks up from behind you having also finished her chores for the day. “Uh, yeah. Would you like to sit down?” You scoot over as she accepts your offer. “So I heard that you’re still dating my brother. Is that correct?” She gives you an innocent look, yet you can’t help but have to think longer about your answer. “Actually, um. I’m not so sure anymore.” You glance back at Bellamy. It might be the alcohol but you almost feel like bursting out in tears.

“What does that mean?” You look back at her confused stare. “Well, you know how he is. How he has to be in charge. I mean…he barely has time to look at me.” She grins a bit. “Is that why you’re staring?” You look back at the ground, blushing a little, slightly ashamed.

“Ok, Y/n. Trust me when I say this.” You look up at her calm features again. “You have nothing to worry about. I know he’s been busy but that’s just how he is. I mean, the way he used to talk about you back on the Ark. How much he missed you when you got locked up. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like you’re an ocean and he is just so desperate to drown. I wish I had something like that.”

She looks back at the rest of the workers, taking a sip of your stolen moonshine. You can’t help but remain doubtful, yet another drop of hope, has been poured into your mind.

***

“No! Let-let go of me! Help! Please don’t do this!” Murphy and Atom were keeping your face above a lit fire. The smoke stinging your eyes, tears streaming down your face. The stink in your lungs making breathing difficult even without Murphy’s hold on your throat. Your squirming and kicking seemingly useless.

“Hold her still! Keep her quiet!” They yell other such commands to each-other. “Even Bellamy’s little princess shouldn’t be above our rules here now should she?” You can feel Murphy and Atom both grinning behind you. They must feel so powerful, so proud. You on the other hand have never felt weaker. You can’t even scream now, the ash is coating your throat with a thick, sore layer.

**

“You don’t even care do you?” You keep limping away from him. Leaning against every tree that comes your way. “What are you even talking about, Y/n?” “You! Ever since we got here it’s like everyone is starring in your own fucking Bellamy show, and the star of the night is always you! They all do what you want!” You yell, only facing him for a second before continuing your rather pathetic attempt of getting away.

“Have you lost your damn mind? Just come back inside the gate, Y/n. We’ll talk about this when you’ve calmed down.” You keep walking and he grabs your elbow. You turn around furiously, too weak to rip your arm out of his grip, so you just stare at him angrily.

“Look, what Murphy and Atom did to you…they had no right, and they are going to pay as soon as we get back. But we do have to go back.” You shake your head in disbelief. “You can go. There’s nothing for me back there.” He grabs your shoulders before you can turn back around. He looks at you, confused. His eyebrows drawn together. “You have me. You know that.”

“Do I? Cause, you’re never around. We barely talk. You never ask me about anything, you keep secrets. And after all that…maybe it was even you that told them to rip off my wristband like that. And even better- to make it believable.” You feel a tear escaping your eye. You lower your head in defeat. Eyes drifting away from his to once again hide the pain you’d hidden from him so far.

He wipes the tear off your flushed cheek with his thumb, gently tugging your jaw upwards. Forcing you to face him. “I don’t know what to say.” You can see the hurt in his eyes. “Can we please just…not say anything?” There’s no more tears. You feel empty. You’d finally gotten everything off your chest. Though that had probably only made him feel worse. Now you just wanted to make things better.

He seemed to be analyzing your every feature. Every slightest bit of movement. After a while of following his eyes you break the silence. “Can we just, pretend this…never happened. Just- go back to camp or something.” He doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable you’re feeling under his peering eyes.

After another moment of silence, he places a hand behind your head, lightly pulling you closer. Your lips seal and a warmth washes over you. All your worries seem to fade. He often had that affect on you.

With a slight lick over your lips you part your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His hand starts sliding up your side, giving you a gentle squeeze on the ribs below your breast. You start to loosen up. Your body seems to be melting toward his. He pulls away from the kiss to look into your eyes. “What?” You ask him, feeling as if there is something wrong. “I love you, Y/n. And I’m gonna make sure you remember that.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What are you talking ab- oh!” You quickly grab onto the back of his head as he starts kissing your neck. Even more passionately than the kisses before. He sucks and tugs at the sensitive skin leaving marks on your complexion, meanwhile tightening his grip on your hips. You throw back your head and close your eyes. The sensations almost overwhelming. It had been months since the last time you’d had sex. You had been praying for this moment for what seems like eternity.

He grabs ur ass and the back of your thighs, lifting you up against a nearby tree. The bark scrapes through your thin shirt, but that somehow turns you on even more. His kisses trail higher now across your chin. He lifts your arms and only lifts his lips to remove your shirt and his. He tosses them to the side and lands his kisses back on your lips.

He’s pulling you unbelievably close, both of you trying to tear off the other’s clothes as fast as possible. His lips trace down your neck, grabbing your breasts and kneading them. He lets you back onto your feet, leading his kisses between your breasts. He reaches his hand around you to swiftly remove your bra, letting it drop to the forest floor. He laps around your nipples, your hands digging into the bark of the tree, trying hard to find some steady ground.

His kisses trail lower. He hastily rips off your pants, leaving you in just your panties. He slips his fingers to your core, simply lifting the light fabric aside. “So wet for me already. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m gonna make it up to you.” You open your eyes to see him staring at yours intently, kneeling down in front of you. He’s not gonna tease you, not this time. This time he’s gonna give it to you just like you need him to.

He rubs his thumb in tiny circles around your clit. Sending vibrations and waves of pleasure cursing through you. He then licks over his lips as he slides two fingers into you. “Oh, God!” You yelp, grabbing the firm muscles on his arm. He smirks at you. “That’s ok but, most people call me Bellamy.” In normal circumstances you would laugh at that, but this wasn’t by far normal circumstances. He started moving his fingers as soon as you loosened your grip on his arm, moving expertly against your g-spot. He starts kissing your abdomen slowly, letting his breath send shivers across your skin.

You can’t help but let the moans escape your throat and let your hand run through and grab onto his soft hair. “You gonna come for me, baby? It’s ok, just let go.” His words are the last thing you need to push you over the edge, squirming and shaking, him holding your hips still with his free hand. “Oh fuck! Bell-oh my-god.” He slows down his actions, letting you come down from your high. He closes his eyes and licks his fingers, letting out a low moan of satisfaction. “Mmh.. Still taste so good. Still so tight.”

You pull him up to his feet kissing him passionately, tasting yourself on his tongue. He wasn’t lying, you did taste good. You both start wrapping around each other, kissing like two long lost lovers, as you were. You sneak your hand down his bare chest, working slowly at the buckle and zipper. He lifts himself away from you, letting you pull off his pants and underwear, his erection springing free. Precum dripping from his slit.

You trail down your hisses as he settles in. One hand leaning against the thick tree behind you and the other holding a handful of your hair. Closely eyeing every single movement. You start rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, earning a moan and a little squeeze of your hair. You circle your tongue around his tip ever so lightly as he lets out a shaky breath. He has been missing this just as much as you have.

You lap up all the precum in your way before sucking at his tip, going deeper with each thrust of your hand. He’s now edging you to quicken the pace, letting his head fall back a couple times, body still slightly slouched over you. You cradle his balls with your other hand, gently massaging at the sensitive skin between your fingers.

Soon enough you’re pulled to a halt, as he pulls you up on your feet and rips off your underwear. “Hey! I liked those!” You whine playfully. “You’re gonna like this even more.” He practically growls out his words, grabbing one of your feet to wrap it around his waist, holding it still and trusting himself into you. You gasp, pulling tightly at his skin. He lifts your arms up with his other hand. “I’m gonna keep these there ok?” You swallow and nod. Begging for friction where you need it most. Luckily Bellamy is one to oblige.

He starts thrusting in to you. Both of you glaring at the sweat dripping down your skins. It’s a hot day outside, but this is way hotter. You’re both grunting and moaning. Swearing and calling out to god. Each other’s names constantly filling the thick air between you. You can feel your abdomen starting to knot up, your back arching to meet Bellamy’s tightened abs. “Come on, baby. Let go for me. I’m right behind you.” Not long after that you can feel your body pulsating with pleasure, pushing your body in all directions, your pussy tightening around his cock. Soon after you can feel Bellamy’s rhythm starting to fade as his hot fluids run down your thighs. Both panting and smiling like idiots. If there were any animals around, they’d all been scared off by your loud moans and shouts.

He slides out from between your folds and lets go of your leg, also releasing your slightly reddened hands and giving them a loving kiss. “Sorry about that, I got a bit carried away.” He says looking in your eyes with furrowed brows. “Don’t apologize. You did what you said you were gonna do. You made it up to me, big time.” “But you have to promise me you’ll remember that I’ll always loved you like this.” You lift up his chin to face you. “How could I forget?” He gives you that adorable puppy looking smile and kisses you again, this time not with an animalistic passion, but with true and unfaded love. There’s no doubt in your mind. You are his, as he is yours.

Old Wounds - Chapter Five

previous

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before he knocked on the door of his parents’ suite. Dad was going to be pissed that he had left early without saying goodbye, and Mum would be disappointed in him, which was worse. His entire body ached from sleeping on the sofa. At some point while cuddling Gigi he’d fallen asleep. When he’d woken up she was gone and he’d barely had time to take a quick shower and throw on clean clothes before this brunch appointment with the family. He pushed his worries about Gigi out of his head, took an instant to check buttons and zippers, and then knocked.

A few moments later, Juniper opened the door.

“You’re early,” he said, not hiding the surprise in his voice. He still wasn’t used to Juniper coming to family events, though she’d been around more in the last year than she had for the several previous ones. And he couldn’t remember the last time she had been early to anything.

“You’re late,” she replied, turning away from the door, “but Gemma’s not here yet, so you should escape unscathed.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

starco 57!!!

(send me a ship + a no. 1-60 for a prompt!)

starco + 57. “things you said when no one else was around”

~

“Are you okay?”

Well, that was a dumb question. Star clutched his hand, and squeezed tight, holding it with whatever strength she had left before lifting up Marco’s hand to her face, letting him touch the heart on her cheek. Perhaps in some sort of means to remind herself he was actually here…

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice wavering.

Keep reading

The Kitchens - Ancient

So this is the first chapter of the ancient version of The Kitchens… not sure exactly what time period but some time in that kind of medieval high point of kings and queens. ENJOY!


Sirius set out for the West parlor, wondering if maybe he could sleep a while on one of the couches. His bare feet were cool against the July-warmed stone, even at night. He wished he could enjoy this more like he usually did, with the absence of prying eyes. But his head ached, spinning with thoughts of the ever-looming events that summer’s end promised. There were fall’s many festivals, hunting trips. And among these things, a bride. He’d be eighteen in November. He’d known what eighteen meant for as long as he could remember. It was inevitable, like a pressing weight on his chest. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head: Alliances are needed, Sirius. You’ll be a King one day and you’ll need a powerful Queen at your side. And besides, fall weddings are lucky.

Sirius rubbed at his eyes, huffing as he turned blindly into the room he knew to well, only to find it bathed in a soft warm glow. He let his hand drop to his side, taken off guard by the light-soaked walls, and he froze. Because there was a boy there. His heels were coming out of his shoes as he crouched over the softly roasting coals of the beginning of one of the Black castle’s many fires. Sirius realized he’d been standing there too long to make any sort of proper introduction too late.

Of all the words in his grand vocabulary, his mind decided to settle on, “Oh.”

The boy jumped. He went to stand up too fast and ended up thumping his head painfully against the brick under edge of the fireplace. Sirius cursed at the same time the boy did.

“Christ James, I told you to do the East Wing-“

The boy spoke at the same time that he turned. He cut off just as he saw Sirius.

“Oh.” He inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, “My Lord. I didn’t realize…”

And Sirius watched it happen, just as it always did. He watched the boy’s back straighten, he watched the front go up.

Sirius huffed, annoyed. He made his way around the sofa slowly, fingers trailing against the plush fabric as he did, “Didn’t realize I’d be in my own castle?”

The boy frowned. He looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes but thought better of it, “Not at these hours. My Lord.” He added the last part hastily, half-heartedly, and a bit heatedly.

“I’d ask you the same question.” Sirius did narrow his eyes. He was allowed to.

The boy looked like he was biting his tongue before he spoke, “I was to light the fires this morning, my Lord.”

Sirius froze, expression flickering, “Morning?”

The boy glanced out the window briefly, “Morning, my Lord.”

Sirius followed his eyes, only to see that it was morning. He blinked at the dawning sky, the world still pink, and cleared his throat, “Oh.”

“Have-“ The boy hesitated until Sirius looked back at him. His expression slightly softer but guarded still, “have you been out all night? Around the castle? My Lord.”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his face, “You don’t have to add that after every sentence.” He pressed his thumbs into his eyes, as if trying to rub the fatigue out, before looking back at the boy. He had flour on his cheek, a bit of ash on his temple.

“Yes.” He looked back out the window, “I guess so.”

He didn’t think he’d been walking all night and yet there was the sun, peaking over the mountains.

The boy crouched down, scraping the iron fire poker back up and prodding at the coals with it, “Sometime on your mind, my Lord?”

Sirius jerked his head downward, “I said-“

But he stopped, words catching in his throat. He shouldn’t admit it, really he couldn’t admit it- not out loud anyways- but, now that he was looking, the boy was a bit of a beautiful sight. Maybe it was just the firelight, or lack of sleep, but the thought sprang to the front of Sirius’ mind so quickly he just… thought it.

He shifted, clearing his throat, “No.” He meant to turn away, maybe leave, but instead he sat down, “No. I simply lost track of time.”

The fire light made the boy’s eyes look like a a pot of melting amber when he turned towards Sirius, expression forwardly quizzical, “Yes, my Lord.”

Sirius frowned, “Do you not know my name?”

The boy raised an eye brow, “My Lord?”

“Do you not know my name.” Sirius repeated, “Is that why you refuse to use it, even upon my request?”

It was still quite dark, but Sirius could have sworn the boy flushed. He turned back to poking the fire.

“You know, you aren’t doing that right.”

The boy kept poking, not looking away, “I’m not usually in charge of the fires.” He mumbled.

Sirius leaned forward, “No, you see, they aren’t going to stay alight like that. Didn’t you- no, stop, stop.” Sirius swiftly moved to crouch next to the boy, putting his hand over his on the poker, “Watch. You need it to be…” He guided their hands to push the embers towards the center, “Like such. That way the smoke goes up and the heat goes out. See now?”

“I… Yes. How did you…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “I’m royal, not helpless.”

“That’s not what Sam says.”

Sirius did his best to look aghast but it ended as more of a smile, “That’s how you address your superiors?”

The boy grinned, “A moment ago you were begging me to call you Sirius.”

Sirius turned sharply away from the coals, taken off guard. He tightened his grip on the iron. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his name from a servant’s mouth before. Sam, his valet, called him Sirius. He had just never heard his name quite like that. Soft, gentile. The way this boy said it… it almost made him sound like a good person. The boy seemed to roll his eyes a little, surprising a smile.

“So the truth is out. You do know my name.”

He wrapped his arms around his knees, watching the coals. His sandy hair flopped nicely into his eyes, “Everyone in the world probably knows your name.”

Sirius laughed softly, “I think you’re sorely misjudging the size of the world.”

The boy looked at him, features extraordinarily soft in the firelight. Sirius’ heart caught.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” He said quietly, “It isn’t like I’ve seen any of it.”

“S’not that great, really.” Sirius said softly. It was, but Sirius wasn’t about to say that. He cleared his throat instead, “Well, I should-“

He cut himself off again, this time with a curse. He tumbled back on his heels, the poker clattering to the floor, his left hand burning.

“Fuck-“ He unclenched his fist, seeing an angry red mark already forming across his knuckles.

The boy cursed, “Shit, the coals. I forgot to put the gate up- one rolled out- I- your highness-“

“I’m fine,” Sirius grit his teeth, trying his best to smile, “It’s just a little hot, I-“

“Oh come off it, that’s more than a little hot-” The second the words were out of the boy’s mouth his eyes were wide, “Oh god. I-“

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the your highness, at the horror on the boy’s face when he’d slipped and spoken to Sirius like a normal person.

The boy pressed his lips together, the hollows of his cheeks pink. He directed his gaze to Sirius’ injured hand, “We should really get something for that.”

Sirius nodded, “You can rouse Pomfrey for me?”

The boy stood, “I think I can help you, actually… if you like.” He offered Sirius a hesitant hand.

Sirius took it. He didn’t even think about it, he just let this boy pull him up, cradling his injured one to his chest, “I don’t even know your name.”

The boy arched an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can help either way.”

Sirius suppressed a smile, “You know mine.”

“Everyone knows yours.”

Sirius stood up ridiculously straight, holding his nose in the air accentuating his posh accent, “Sir, your prince is asking your name-”

The boy snorted, “Merlin, it’s Remus, it’s Remus.” He turned, leading the way out of the room, “Now stop that…”

“Like the myth?” Sirius followed him.

“What myth?”

“The Roman one. With the wolf.”

Remus glanced behind him, “What?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “Didn’t you learn it in school?”

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius fell into stride with him, “You’re assuming I went to school.”

Sirius’ steps faltered, “I- oh.”

“Not all of us grow up in castles, not to mention princes.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ profile as they walked down the servant’s staircase. It was hard to read, “I didn’t mean any offense.” Sirius offered.

Remus sent him a small smile, “And yet…”

Sirius suddenly felt very aware of his words, his accent, even his attire, all in comparison to Remus. He felt overdressed in his maroon robe, the gold embroidery feeling flashy and unnecessary next to Remus’ plain white shirt, littered with stains from work.

Remus shook his head gently at him as they entered the kitchen, “I’m joking. It’s alright, you didn’t know,” he nodded towards the countertop, “sit there.”

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck, “I suppose I should have known…” His eyes widened, “I mean-“

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sit.”

“-not that I would assume you didn’t have an education-“

Sit, Sirius.”

Sirius pushed himself up onto the counter, silently kicking himself. He watched wordlessly as Remus set ingredients out on the counter next to him. Honey, and a lemon.

“Well… this is odd.”

Remus looked at Sirius, “You’ve never seen this before?”

Sirius shook his head.

Remus smirked, slicing the lemon in half, “Well, you’re obviously not learning everything with that education of yours, are you?”

Sirius grinned back, relieved.

Remus held his palm out, “Give your hand here.”

Sirius glanced nervously at the lemon, “Won’t that hurt?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, reaching and grabbing Sirius’ injury for himself, “What do you think the honey’s for? It will only sting for a moment…”

He trailed off as he gently pressed the the cross section of the lemon across Sirius’ slightly blistered knuckles. Sirius hissed, then tried to turn it into a cough. He pointedly ignored Remus’ smirk.

Remus’ fingers were cool against the irritated skin around the burn, and Sirius drew his lip between his teeth as Remus carefully smeared a bit of honey over the aching cut. The thick paste relieved the throbbing to a duller pain.

“Merlin.”

Remus wiped his hands on a kitchen rag, “More useful than a Roman myth, huh?”

Sirius groaned, “I apologized.”

“Is that how world affairs are settled then? Apologies?” Remus smiled, producing a bandage from the same cupboard the honey had come from. His long fingers worked nimbly as he wraps Sirius’ hand.

“There. If it starts to hurt again, I- or I mean Madame Pomfrey can-“

“I’ll find you if it hurts.” Sirius said, sliding from the counter.

Remus nodded slowly, “Right.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the countertop, looking down at Remus, “Right.”

Remus glanced around Sirius nervously, “People will probably be waking soon.”

Sirius nodded, although he hadn’t really heard what Remus had said. They were standing quite close, “Right…”

Remus seemed a bit breathless when he spoke again, “We have to prepare your breakfast…”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, “Do you prepare the breakfast?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, “I prepare your breakfast.”

Sirius smiled slowly, “Really?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder, “When you take it in your room at least. Which is-“

“-most days.” Sirius finished, laughing, “But how do you know?”

Remus shook his head, confused, “Know?”

“That I’m having it upstairs.”

Remus paused for a moment, as if waiting for Sirius to continue, or to laugh. Then his eyebrows raised very high to his hairline and he let out a burst of laughter, “Honestly?”

Sirius stepped back a step, “What?”

Remus shook his head again, reaching out and catching Sirius’ wrist either to keep himself steady in his laughter, or to keep Sirius from moving away, “No- No, I’m sorry,” he gasped, “It’s just… you really don’t know how we work down here, do you?”

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably, trying not to jostle his hand too much. He didn’t want Remus to let go, “Well…” He tried to think of some excuse, shrugging, “When I come down here everyone stops working to ask what I want!”

“They’re suppose to do that.” Remus points out.

“Yes, but that explains why I don’t know how it works!” Sirius spluttered.

Remus smiled, “Fine, fine… Lord, I’m sitting here arguing with a Prince… Sam tells me.”

Sirius, fully prepared for a defense again, deflated some, “Oh.” He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I guess I should have thought of that.”

Remus shrugged, eyes still teasing, “I guess.”

There was a creak from the floorboards above causing both boys to look up, then back down at each other. They were nearly nose to nose, and Sirius quite enjoyed that he had to look down a bit to meet Remus’ eyes.

“You need to go.”

“Kicking a royal out?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You need to go your highness.”

He guided Sirius somewhat forcefully to the door as footsteps quickly approached the staircase.

“Hey.”

Remus froze in his act of shutting the door, only Sirius’ face visible from the other side.

“What?” He said impatiently.

“The eggs are always perfect.”

Sirius grinned at the eye roll he received before the door was shut in his face.

Together (Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

Request: Hello! Can you do a Pietro x Reader fic where they are dating and while on a date they get abducted by HYDRA and are tortured in front of each other but they are saved? Thank you!

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 2,133

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Needles

A/N: Here you go! Sorry if the ending sucked, wasn’t too sure on how to end it, so I hope that was good enough. Once again I have tried to put in the “keep reading” thing but it just won’t work for me. I don’t know why. It hates me. So, sorry to everyone since this is one really long post. FYI, “printesa” means “princess.” Also, the italicized part in the middle is a flashback. Well, enjoy!

Originally posted by marvelprincesspants

Waking up, you shield your eyes from the blinding lights. Hearing an alarm go off, you swing your legs over your bed, noticing that you have a tracking device clamped onto your ankle. Pushing your tangled hair out of your face, you move towards the barred door. Grasping it, you notice that you can begin to see your knuckles through your skin. Peering through the bars, you hear shouting from multiple people, but you mainly hear a Sokovian accent cursing someone out lividly. 

Your eyes widen as you see your Sokovian boyfriend, Pietro, being dragged out into the hallway, kicking and screaming at the guards restraining him. Tears welling up in your eyes, you wince when you see them kick Pietro, knocking him down. Stumbling back up, Pietro looks up and sees your face staring frightened back at his. Rushing over to your door, Pietro’s hands finds yours as the guards begin to pull him away.

“I’m going to be okay, I’m going to be okay,” Pietro keeps repeating over and over again to you. Tears now spilling onto your cheeks, you nod, not believing him one bit. As the guards begin to tug on him harder, your hands grasp onto Pietro’s hand, trying to keep him near. “I’ll be back for you, (Y/N), we’ll get out of this, we’ll-”

And with that, you scream as you see your boyfriend fall into a crumpled heap on the ground. Now sobbing, you watch as the guard puts away the taser that he had just used on your Pietro back into his pocket. Screaming for Pietro, you watch as the guards drag him into the horrid room at the end of the hall.

Fulling throwing your weight onto the door, you try to break it down. Sobbing, you pull back once more, preparing to throw your weight at the door again. Pietro, I need to get to Pietro, is all you think as you throw your battered shoulder at the door. Just as you were about to run at the door once more, a woman dressed in white enters, holding a syringe. Eyes wide, you start to back away into the corner.

“PIETRO!” You scream, trying to push away the woman. Seeing two guards enter, you start to scream for Pietro more. Grabbing one arm each, they begin to pin you down onto the cold mattress. Screaming hysterically, you try to shrink away from the woman with the needle. Wincing as it enters your skin, you begin to feel yourself calm down as the contents start to spread through your system.

Laying back down on the mattress, you feel yourself start to slip off into unconsciousness. Feeling yourself being strapped down, you dip into the welcoming blackness as your mind holds onto one word: Pietro.


It was a regular day, really, when you woke up that Tuesday. You walked out of your room into the familiar kitchen, greeting all of your friends as you began to pour yourself a cup of coffee. Following routine, you began to make Pietro’s coffee along with yours, waiting for your boyfriend to make an appearance. As per usual, he walked in groggy and half-asleep.

“Morning, Printesa,” He mumbled, silently walking towards you. Placing a kiss on his stubbly cheek, you handed him his cup of coffee.

“Morning, Speedy,” You laugh as you feel his arms wrap around your waist. You feel his face snuggle into your neck, making you laugh even more. Sleepy Pietro was always your favorite, seeing as he became extremely needy when he was tired. Mornings were not an exception.

“You guys are gross,” Tony fake gags, earning laughs from the Avengers. Rolling your eyes at him, you took your usual seat at the table, as does Pietro. 

Leaning over during breakfast, Pietro began to whisper in your ear. “How about we go for a little walk today?”

Turning to look at him, you smiled and nodded.


Walking through the nearby park, you and Pietro swung your connected hands in bliss. It was a beautiful day for a walk, seeing as the sun was out. Continuing to stroll down the path, you finally realized how quiet it was.

“Hey, Pietro, where are the children?” You asked suspiciously, stopping in your tracks when you saw the abandoned playground set. Eyebrows furrowed, Pietro began to look around.

“I don’t know… Usually they are out,” He remarks, finding it odd for the usual kids to not be here. Feeling a bit on edge, both of your eyes began to scan the surrounding area looking for danger. Feeling his hand grip yours tighter, you turn to look at him. “I don’t like this, we need to-”

Your boyfriend was cut off as two jets materialized above you, finally revealing themselves. Seeing the all-too familiar red logo on one of the wings, you grip onto Pietro’s hand.

“Pietro, run,” You whisper out in panic. In a blink of an eye, Pietro has slung you onto his back, leaving you to grip onto his waist tightly. Dashing off in a blur, Pietro tries to avoid the appearing HYDRA agents that began to drop from the jets. Just as the two of you were about to reach the exit, Pietro skids to a halt as a large forcefield is placed in his path. Whipping around, he began to assess his surroundings, looking for a way out. As the HYDRA soldiers begin to close in on the two of you, you feel a dread spread through your body.

“You’re cornered, surrender now,” A voice from the nearest jet calls out over the P.A. system. Feeling Pietro grip onto your legs tighter, he looks back at you, panicked.

“(Y/N), we’re trapped, I can’t get us out of here, I’m so sorry,” He whispers to you with tears in his eyes. Nodding solemnly, you climb down from his back, moving to his side as you grip his hand tightly.

“Together?” You ask, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. The agents are less than six feet away from you now, holding handcuffs in one hand and a bag in the other. 

“Together,” He says determinedly, giving your hand one final squeeze as the agents separate you. Feeling the cold cuffs being placed on your wrists behind your back, you look at Pietro one last time just as the bag is placed over your head.


Waking up from your induced sleep, you hear loud noises coming from the end of the hallway. Curious, you try to move but find yourself strapped to your bed. As the loud noises become louder and clearer, you can start to hear shouting once more. 

“Clint, head off down the corridor to your right. Natasha, the left. Tony, you and me will head straight.” You hear Steve demand. Steve! Relief spreading through your body, you try to wrestle your way out of your straps trying to get to him. Finding that you can’t escape, you hear Steve and Tony approaching you cell. Hearing the cell door two down from you slam shut, you begin to scream for them, finding that you have been gagged as well. 

Blasters firing, you watch as the lock on your door become a smoking hole. Pushing the door open, you almost cry from relief at seeing the familiar red and gold suit before you. Faceplate retracting back, you see Tony’s relieved face looking back into yours.

“Guys, I’ve found (Y/N)!” Tony shouted, stepping out of his suit. “Century mode,” Tony demands, walking towards you. Unbuckling your restraints as fast as he can, Tony finally frees you as he pulls the gag from your mouth. Crying from relief, you fling your arms around Tony’s shoulders, clutching him tightly.

“S’okay, you’re okay,” Tony soothingly says, clutching you tighter too. Not letting go of him, you feel the sobs rack through your body. Finally looking up, you see Steve, Clint, and Natasha standing in your doorway, looking down at you, shocked. Releasing Tony, you fling yourself at the three of them, clutching them tightly to you as you continue to sob.

“Shh, we’ve got you,” Clint calmly says, petting down your tangled hair. Realization hitting you, you pull back from your rescuers, eyes wide.

“Pietro! We have to find Pietro!” You shout, rushing out of your cell. Pulling back on your arm, Steve holds you back in your cell. Confused, you look at him.

“Let’s get that tracking device off your ankle first, okay?” Steve asks. Nodding your head, you let Tony get it off your ankle as Nat begins to question you about Pietro.

“Where is he?”

“Last time I saw him they were dragging him towards the room at the end of the hall. I’m not sure if he’s still there or not, seeing as they made me unconscious,” You reply, looking at them all. Glancing at Steve, he nods at Clint and Tony, silently sending them to find Pietro. 

Looking back up at Nat and Steve, you furrow your eyebrows. “Let me go, I need to see him,” You say as you start to stand up. Pushing you back down onto the bed, they give you a sympathetic look. 

“I need to get you back to the quinjet, all right? Make sure you’re okay,” Nat calmly says. Seeing the unjustness of this, you start to retort, but are cut off as Steve gives you a look.

“We’ll find him for you, (Y/N), but right now we need you back on the quinjet, okay?”

“Okay,” You begrudgingly say, letting yourself be led out of the horrid facility by Natasha.


Sitting on the bench of the quinjet, you feel Nat drape a blanket around your shoulders. 

“Thanks,” You mumble, pulling it close to your body.

“Not a problem,” She replies, leaning back against the wall of the quinjet. Looking you over, she notices just how shaken up you look. Moving closer to you, she gently pats your back in reassurance. Flinching, you feel your shoulder flare up in pain. Taken aback, Nat looks at you suspiciously.

Gritting your teeth through the pain, you feel it turn into a dull pain. Breathing out, you look at her. 

“Sorry, I injured my shoulder trying to break down the door,” You mumble out, looking at the floor.

“Did you aim near the lock, like I told you?” She asks, quirking up an eyebrow. Seeing you nod, Natasha feels pride flow through her body. Smiling back at you, she nods her head. “Good, I’m proud of you. And we’ll get Pietro back, don’t worry.”

Nodding along to her words, you were about to respond when the hangar door opened. Jumping to your feet, your eyes scan the group of boys, looking for Pietro. Seeing him propped up between Clint and Steve, you let out a cry of relief, seeing him awake. Running up to him, you help Clint and Steve lay him on the bench next to you. 

Groaning at the pain of being laid on a hard surface, Pietro looks up at your face. “Told you I would get us out of here.”

Crying from happiness, you drop on your knees next to him and begin to brush through his tangled hair with your fingers. Not even understanding what he meant, you crashed your lips onto his. Moving your other hand up to hold his face, you ignore the pain in your shoulder as you continue to kiss him. Pulling back, you smile for the first time in a week.

“What do you mean?” You happily ask, remembering his statement. Wiping away the tears, you continue to run your fingers through his hair as the others start assessing his injuries. 

Smiling, Pietro lets out a small chuckle. “When they dragged me into the room, I saw a computer there. Before they could strap me down, I ran over and sent out a message to everyone, saying that we were kidnapped. They didn’t see me do this, because they just thought I was trying to run away. Then, a day later, they showed up,” Pietro finished with a glance towards his teammates. 

Too tired to even respond, you gently place your lips onto his once more. Smiling at the contact, you hear a groan coming from the corner of the jet.

“Blagh, you guys are still gross,” Tony mutters out, causing the two of you to laugh as you pull away. 

“Tony!” You hear the other three yell, causing your rescuers to begin to bicker. Looking back at Pietro, you see him watching the others, amused. 

“I love you,” You whisper out, causing his eyes to flicker towards yours. 

“And I love you,” He replies, gently brushing his lips over yours. And with that, the six of you head home, desperate to forget what had happened over the last dreadful week. 

Please Come Back To Me - Teen Wolf (Jordan Parrish)

Pairing: Jordan x Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: I saw your blogpost and I immediately thought of requesting a Parrish x Reader Teen Wolf fanfic. :D Could you write one where Parrish is in his Hellhound form and is going crazy because he has no idea how to control himself and his powers and is very scared of himself. And that reader will comfort him. It would be nice if you could include a kiss. :P Love you! <3

Warning: Fluff? Angst maybe? 

A/N: Sorry it’s short anon… but I hope you like it anyway^^ 

Originally posted by teenwolfdaily-twd

*gif not mine* 

«Jordan. Look at me. Jordan!» You were backed off against a wall, there was no way for you to escape. 

All of a sudden Jordan had gone into hellhound mode, his eyes glowing and cracks under his skin glowed and oozed of smoke like from a fire. He had turned to you the minute he had changed, his orange glowing eyes fixated on you. 

«Jordan, I know you’re in there. Please, stop.» You said as there was no way for you to run. He was only a few steps away from you, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. 

 «Please.» It came out like a whimper, but this one seemed to be the most effective one, as the hellhound shook his head, as if something was irritating him inside. «Jordan, please come back to me…» You whispered, and this time the hellhound screamed, falling to its knees. 

Then all of a sudden his body went limp, but still managing to stand on his knees. You quickly got on your knees in front of him as well, cradling his face in your hands. 

 «Jordan? Babe? Are you okay?» Slowly his eyes met yours again, as it seemed like all his strength had been taken from his body. 

He gave you a weak nod, before leaning in, pressing his lips against yours. Naturally you kissed him back, despite the ash on his skin and the heat still coming from him in waves, but he wasn’t burning anymore. 

When you pulled away, he just hugged you. If you should judge on how he was acting you would have said he was shocked of what he had done himself. Because this time it had been no trigger. 

 «I’m sorry.» He whispered into your hair, his voice cracking. «I’m so sorry, Y/n.»

Don’t Go - Killian Jones Imagine

Requested by anonymous

“Y/N, you can’t actually be serious,” Killian said after you as you were scurrying around your apartment. 

“I am, Killian,” you said as you finished putting some of your things away. 

“You could die, Y/N.”

“I could if I didn’t fight her, too,” you said, finally stopping to look at him. When you moved to Storybrooke, you never thought you would become friends with Captain Hook. However, he revealed his true character many times since you had met him, and now you were quite fond of him. “Regina needs me,” you added.

“Regina has never needed anyone. If she says she needs you, she’s probably using you,” he scoffed.

“She’s my sister!”

“So is Zelena, and she’s trying to hurt you!”

“That’s different, you know it is,” you mumbled, heading back into your kitchen.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just want you to see what you are doing,” Killian pleaded.

“I do see what I’m doing. I’m going to help my sister get rid of that nasty green bitch.” Killian smiled at your swearing, since you usually didn’t.   

“Y/N, you aren’t strong enough to face her. You can hardly control your magic, what makes you think you can do it during a battle, lass?”

“So you don’t think I can do it,” you stated quietly, looking down.

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t think you should do it,” Killian said, placing his fingers on your chin, making you look at him. 

“I’m sorry. But I’m going through with it,” you said as you walked over to the door. 

“So there’s really nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Well then, goodnight, lass,” he said as he kissed your cheek and walked away with his shoulders dropped. 

———————————————————————————————————

“So what did the one handed wonder want today?” You sister asked you as she sat down in your living room. 

“Killian? Oh he came to try and convince me not to fight.”

“And did it work?” she asked you seriously. 

“Of course not.“

"Good. I didn’t want him to try and woo you, I need your help” she said casually.

“Woo me? Killian wouldn’t do that. We’re just friends. He’s too in love with that Swan chic,” you said with mild discontent. You were okay with Emma, but you saw the way Killian looked at her and it drove you insane. 

“Clearly you can’t see how in love with you he is,” she said with a laugh. 

“What are you talking about?

“He’s always watching you, he practically follows you everywhere, if you weren’t such good friends, I’d say he was stalking you! And he always tries to keep you safe. Hook loves you.” You cringed a little bit at the use of his nickname. You never cared for it, and you felt it did Killian an injustice.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you picked up a basket of clothes and took them to your room, finishing the conversation. When you came back out, Regina was in your kitchen, putting on her coat. 

“Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s finish this.” The pair of you walked to Granny’s diner and waited for your sister to arrive. When you got there, Regina went to talk to Snow and Emma. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around.

“Killian.”

“Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I’m nervous, but I think I’m ready.”

“And there’s no way I can talk you out of it?” You sighed.

“No, there isn’t.” Killian nodded and formed his mouth into a line. He looked like he wanted to say more but stopped himself and closed his mouth.

“Good luck, love,” he said as he squeezed your hand slightly, returning to his group. You heard a clatter outside of Granny’s and looked at Regina. She nodded and the pair of you walked outside. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” Zelena said. “My dear sisters.”

“Zelena, stop this,” Regina said. Zelena smiled wickedly and raised her hand. Regina was quicker and threw fire at her, which Zelena blocked immediately and sent your way. You threw up your hands and thankfully a shield formed and the flames dissolved. You shot flames out at Zelena just as Regina did, and this time when they came shooting back, they barely missed your face. This went on for a while, the back and forth between Regina and you and Zelena. Finally, Zelena disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving you and Regina heaving. 

“She’ll be back,” Regina said.

“I know.”

“We’ll have to be ready. We need to finish her.”

“I know,” you said a little more moodily.

“Y/N!” You turned around and saw your favorite pirate running towards you. He picked you up and twirled you around in a hug. “I’m so relieved you’re okay.”

“Do you have no faith in me?” you teased halfheartedly.

“No, but I don’t know what I’d do without you and that scares me.”

“Killian,” you said, looking up at him, which was when you realized his arms were still around you. “You’ll never be without me, okay? You’re my best frie-” You were cut off by Killian pulling you closer to him and kissing you. He placed a hand in your hair and deepened the kiss. You had always had feelings for Killian but it wasn’t until now that you realized how deeply you felt for him. You finally pulled away when you heard Regina clear her throat loudly.

“I told you so,” she said as she turned away. You smiled and looked down.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I tried to talk you out of facing Zelena, and made you think that I didn’t have faith in you. I just didn’t want to lose you without telling you how I felt about you.”

“I understand, Killian. I forgive you. And since we’re sharing secrets there’s something you should know.” You leaned close to him and held your lips inches from his ear. “I’ve loved you for a while now, too,” you said before running off towards the others.

“Y/N! You can’t just leave me with that! Y/N!”

Okay so I know a lot of people have probably done something like this before and the rest of you probably haven’t thought about it much but please consider

Hamilton hearing gunfire in the clap of horses’ hooves on cobblestones, hurrying home like a madman so he doesn’t have to hear it for long and not protesting the idea that his haste is due to his break-neck approach to life

Hamilton waking up shaking, face white and pale, hands clutching at the fabric of the chair in his office, no warm body and welcoming arms to soothe him this time, he staves off panic attacks alone

Hamilton catching a glimpse of freckles or curly hair and feeling his heart constrict in his chest as he runs after it, still half-hoping that this time it won’t be a figment of his imagination

Hamilton looking in the mirror and seeing a walking corpse staring back, wondering if maybe he died in the trenches and this is what he should look like, if healthiness never seemed to suit him because he was an abomination against nature itself

Hamilton sleeping under grey sheets and waking up from dreams about the smoke of his musket coating the battlefield like a heavy blanket, cannonfire in the background and his soldiers lying dead and dying at his feet

Hamilton wincing at bright flashes of light and fires because they remind him of the sparks that flew during the war, the way the musket barrel lit up and died in half a second and the cannon fuse took a minute to burn

Hamilton avoiding church after an incident where a pew fell over, the noise having a striking resemblance to a cannon igniting gunpowder that blew an entire troop of men to bits like ragdolls

Hamilton writing as much as he possibly can, feeling like death is looking over his shoulder constantly, survivor’s guilt weighing him down like a ten-ton brick in his stomach

Hamilton working feverishly through sickness, sometimes literally, because if he stops he may fall victim to it like his mother, hearing the broken sobs she tried to hide echoing in his head as he writes essay after essay

2

Word count: 665

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” Lucy screams right at your face, and you finally giving her some attention.

“Sorry, Luh. I was…”

“Thinking about your man, am I right?

“Yeah.” A small laugh escapes your lips. Lucy knows that you usually get lost in your thoughts. It only got worse when you started dating the Joker.

“Won’t you ever tell me his name?”

“No.” If you only knew his real name, you’d tell her. But telling you friend that you’re dating the Joker isn’t a good idea. She may freak out. She will freak out.

“You always look so creepy when I ask anything about him.”

“I told you not to…”

“Girls, can you please stop talking?” Your teacher points at you both, with an annoyed face. The worse idea you ever had was to keep in school. But it’s the last year, you thought, you can take it. But these teachers almost make you give up.

“Sorry.” Lucy murmurs, looking ashamed.

But not you. Since you met Joker your mind slowly changed, no way to try to deny it. You became fearless and a bit ruder. How could it be different, when your boyfriend kills anyone who makes you mad?  Sometimes you think he’s building you up into someone as crazy as him.

“(Y/N), did you hear that?” Lucy whispers at your ear.

“Hear what?”

“Do I have to ask you both to shut up again?” The old woman walks up to you, her hands on your table. She looks like a skinny mouse with dead eyes.

“You can do whatever you want. But you need to know that I can do anything I like as well.” You smile at her, tilting your head a bit. The woman’s face turns dark with the shadow of fear. Is it something you said? Or just the look on your face that’s scaring people?

“(Y/N)?” Lucy calls you, but you just listen to her when she shakes your shoulder.

“I’m okay, Luh, I’m just…” An explosion makes the classroom shakes like in an earthquake.

Everybody stands up, looking at the windows to see the dark smoke taking over the yard. The fire alarm should be ringing, but the silence is the only thing you hear. Then the yelling starts. The stupid English teacher is the first to run out the classroom, with the students right behind her. Unlike them, you just stay there in your sit, patiently waiting.

“W-what are you doing?” Lucy goes back to look for you, desperate, with ashes in her blonde hair. “We have to go! Someone is…”

“Wanna survive this? Stay here. He’ll come to save me. He probably already knows that my school is being invaded and it’s on his way.”

“What? No, (Y/N), we need to go right now. You boyfriend is not a superhero. We need to go!”

“You’re right, but…”

“Pumpkin! Where’s my pumpkin? I don’t want to blow the other half of this school!” He singsonged. You jump up at the sound of J’s voice, happily smiling to your friend.

“Who’s that?”

“My lovie!”

Running out the classroom, you see him at the corner of the corridor.

“There, there.” J opens his arms and you run to hug him. “I needed to talk to you.”

“(Y/N), get away from him,” Lucy speaks slowly like she’s talking to a child. No need for you to look at her to see if she’s scared or something. You can tell it by the tone of her voice.

“Then you decided to blow up my school?” Ignoring your friend, you kiss your boyfriend roughly, biting his lower lip.

“It’s something very important. I wanted to buy you a necklace, but I couldn’t decide about the jewel’s color.”

“Wait. Is he… (Y/N), is he…”

“Oh, Luh, yes. He’s no superhero so you were right.”

“You like it better this way, right, pumpkin?” J whispers in your ear, pointing to the huge whole he made on the wall. “Let’s go get you that jewel.”

“Yes, lovie!”

Months After Pulse Shooting: 'There Is A Wound On The Entire Community'

On June 12, 2016, a gunman killed 49 people and injured dozens of others in what became the deadliest mass shooting in recent U.S. history. The Pulse nightclub, a popular space for the LGBT community in Orlando, Fla., was holding a Latin Night, and the club was packed with patrons both gay and straight, young and not-so-young, from the U.S., Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Mexico and elsewhere. The massacre sent waves through the many intertwined communities in the city.

Over the last six months, these communities of Orlando — whether LGBT, Latino, Hispanic, religious, or more broadly — have worked in different ways to overcome the traumatic events of that day. Photographer Cassi Alexandra spoke to people across those communities that were touched by the tragedy, either through personal experience, loss of a loved one, or the impact on the city itself. These stories examine the recovery process this community continues to go through, including questioning the acceptance of violence as a country and discussing the damaging legacy of violent acts such as this.

Brandon Wolf grew up in a suburb of Portland, Ore., and has lived in Orlando since 2008. He went to Pulse that night with three friends — Eric Borrero, Christopher “Drew” Leinonen and Juan Guerrero. 

“We made a break for the fire exit and just ran through the smoke,” Brandon says. “We didn’t look back and kept running from the building.”

Emily Addison and her 2-year-old son, Diyari, lost Deonka “Dee Dee” Drayton in the Pulse massacre.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how hard I prayed,” Emily says. “I wanted her to be in the hospital so bad, I didn’t care what kind of predicament she was in, because I knew I was going to take care of her. … But it didn’t turn out that way.”

Shane Young is chairperson of the Youth Council at Zebra Coalition, an advocacy group for LGBT+ youth in Central Florida. He and his mother, Trish Glad, live in Saint Cloud, Fla., where Shane attended three high schools before dropping out to study for his GED because of what he described as “terrible bullying” from students and staff members because he is transgender.

“Worrying if my kid was going to be alive when I picked him up at the end of the school day was horrible, and it was all the time,” Trish says. “Just kids threatening to slit his throat, and the police won’t do anything unless there’s actual bodily harm.”

Blue is a well-known figure in the LGBT community of Orlando and owner of The Venue.

“You can talk about gun control and you can talk about raising people with love and you can talk about ways that you would’ve changed upbringing … the world is a crazy place,” she says. “If I sat here and thought about all the ways that we could’ve prevented that I would probably be sitting here and speaking for hours. The fact of the matter is we have to look at what we’ve gotten from it and move forward with that.”

Continue reading

Photos and interviews by Cassi Alexandra

Dear so-and-so,

I have a lot to say but it’s all in the form of questions. I never learned how to make a statement. How to speak my thoughts with an intention that wasn’t survival. Fight flight or freeze. Playing dumb or dead.
I look for your face in the expressions of others. Taught myself to hear your voice in each inflection. If I smell smoke then where’s the fire? Safe? Unsafe? Fire? Fight? Flight? Freeze? Repeat?
Reading between the lines makes a paragraph feel like a chapter. My eyes strain looking for the hidden messages. Feeling my way through the minefield. Every thud could be the other shoe, dropping. Every car back firing a gun. The neighbor rolling out his trash cans is thunder and I’m counting the seconds, bracing myself for lightning. Don’t stand too tall or you’ll be the first struck down.
Dear so-and-so,
What the fuck is your problem?

With confusion and fear, Your Consequences

I Have to Tell You Something...

Request: one shot where Barry tells you (his girlfriend) that he’s the flash the same day you were going to tell him you’re a metahuman.

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader

Warnings: Fluff and character getting hurt (If that’s a warning?)

A/N: Hey! This took awhile to write but it was fun once I got the ball rolling. I hope it’s okay I changed a few things in the request. Love you! Requests are always open, just be patient. lol

Your breath catches in your throat and it takes everything to let it out.

“Barry I have to tell you something. And it’s important.” A beat. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you…I just wasn’t sure how’d you respond, but I just can’t-won’t lie to you anymore.” You can’t look away from your hands. The creases and lines that have formed over years of use are suddenly mesmerizing. “I’m….I…I can control things…with my mind. What I mean is….I have powers.” There. You finally said it. The words you’ve been dreading to say out loud were finally out.

           Finally, you look up from your hands. But instead of Barry, you’re a-dork-able boyfriend, you find yourself looking back at you. The cold emptiness of the restaurant bathroom suddenly feels very real, reminding you of where you were. If only I can say that to Barry, you think and take a good look in the mirror. Outside, not far away, Barry was sitting in the hustle and bustle that was Jitters on a Saturday night. But as much as you were nervous, you knew you had to tell him. You were falling for him, hard, and lying to him began to hurt more than imagining his reaction if he found out. With one final glance at your reflection and a quick, deep breath to calm your nerves you stepped outside.

           Barry notices you almost right away. He lifts his hand up to wave you over to him, a small smile enveloping his face. If you didn’t know better, he almost looked as nervous as you were.

“Hey Bare,” You greet as he pulls you in for a short but gentle kiss.

“Hey Y/n,” he returns, “Are you okay?”

           He knew you too well. That’s what happens after being together for six months. You begin to know everything about each other. Their laughs, the face they make when their sad or happy, and in this case Barry knew the face you made when you were worried about something. Your eyes would be serious despite a smile you would use to try to hide it, but the small crease between your eyebrows was a dead giveaway. He knew you like a book…but he didn’t know all of it.

“I-I wanted to talk to you.” You state slowly, and his eyebrows furrow together, his hand still lingering on your elbow from when he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Actually, I did too…” He pauses for a minute as he looks at you. He looked so nervous and all you wanted to do was use the sleeve of you sweater to wipe away the sweat that began at his temple. But Barry being nervous made you nervous. A little more than you were now.

“Y/n—“

“Can you believe it?” Barry and you look up to see who interrupted, and you’re greeted by the face of Iris West. You smile, always being good friends with Iris, but Barry presses his lips into a line. Looking annoyed and relived at her interruption.

“Believe what?” You ask and she nods her head towards one of the televisions in the room. It’s playing the news, one of the breaking news reports that when it begins is followed by the sound of trumpets in a quick jingle. A woman, with a little too much purple eyeshadow for your taste, talks about a sudden fire at an apartment building. It wasn’t far from where you all were, only a couple blocks. You turn to look at your boyfriend, his nervous face replaced with one of intense anticipation. When his eyes finally meet yours, you’re met with the sound of buzzing. Barry looks quickly down at his lap, most likely at his phone and gives you an apologetic look.

“I got to go, I’m so sorry,” Barry apologizes but you give him a reassuring smile. You glance back at the TV, now showing a picture of a burning building, most likely one taken from Google. When you look back, Barry’s gone.

Quickly, you grab your purse, “I have to get going, too,” you tell Iris quickly and she smiles knowingly. She was the only other person who knew your secret.

“Going to help the cops with your Jedi mind tricks again?” She asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Can’t leave all the superhero-ing to the mysterious Flash now, can I?”

“Just, be careful.” She warns and you smile to reassure her.

           You’re rushing out of the place now, nearly running to the apartment. It wasn’t hard to find. You followed the sirens and smoke.

*****

           The entire building was engulfed in flames, orange and yellow licking up the red brick walls. Police were beginning to push passing spectators away, trying to give room to the firefighters arriving on scene. Between all the messes of chaos, you push your way past and into the building.

           Almost immediately, you start coughing, smoke filling your lungs fast like ants to a picnic. In that moment something, almost a blur, rushes past you and causing a gust of wind to make your hair fly up. You know who it is before thinking twice. The Flash. Your thoughts are interrupted by a scream.

“Please, somebody!” The voice calls out, and you follow it, pulling your shirt over your nose to try to breathe a little better.

“Please! I can’t move!”

           That’s when you notice the arm. It’s waving, almost frantic. With one hand you keep the shirt over your face, and with the other you outstretch it in front of you. You concentrate, focusing on the charred flaming beam that is pinning the person crying for help.

“I’m going to help you, stay still,” You reassure. A tingling sensation begins at your wrist and spreads to the tips of your fingers. A breeze passes you, but you ignore it, concentrating on lifting the beam. With a loud crack, it lifts by itself like it’s being pulled up into the air by invisible strings.

“How are you—“

           Turning to your side, you see the flash, who’s standing in bewilderment at the levitating object.

“Get her out of here!” You yell out at him, referring to the girl on the ground, finally freed. The flash looks like he was snapped back to reality. He looks at you for a moment, the orange light from the flames making his red suit glow in the room, before rushing the girl in and out of the building.

           You mind slips from its hold on the beam as you watch the blur race passed you, and the beam comes crushing to the floor in seconds. The crash causes for the flames to quickly rise and push smoke and dust up into the air. Your lungs contrast deeply inside your chest as you struggle to breath; every second is getting worse. Falling to your knees your whole body is racked with ugly coughs, trying desperately to get rid of the dark smoke that’s entering inside you with every inhale.

           Between the sounds of your coughs, crackling fire, and the police sirens from outside you don’t hear the noise of wood snapping above you. Before you know it, something has crashed against your skull from up above. The taste of blood instantly entering you mouth.

“Y/n!” You hear someone yell, but your mind is foggy.

           In an instant, you can’t feel the heat of the wild fire and smoke no longer feels like it is burning its way down your throat.

“Y/n?” The same voice says your name, softer and less panicked this time. You open your eyes, gasping for clean air. You’re lying down, something cold and thin touches your back, maybe its grass. Looking up, a familiar face stares down at you. His soft green eyes are covered in worry but his smile is filled with relief, comforting you like it always has.

“Hey, it’s me. You’re okay.” He says, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. He’s leaning over you, dressed in a red tight suit, the same one you’ve seen in the papers and inside the building. Only now his mask is off, hanging behind him like a hoodie would, exposing his face.

“Barry…you…you’re the flash?”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to so bad. I just—“ You reach up and trace the curves of his cheek with your fingertips. He relaxes to your touch, leaning into the palm of your hand.

“It’s okay…” You say, lingering your hand on his face, “I should have told you too…I was going to… tonight… but then…”

“I know. We both have some explaining…” He breathes deep and for a second you’re nervous. You had imagined this moment a hundred times, when Barry would find out about you. They all ended up with him feeling angry, hurt, or betrayed. Now, however, as you look up at him, he looks calm, his eyes shining with hints of joy. He flashes a smile at you and continues, “But tonight, you’re going to rest.”

“Barry, I’m fine-ow.” You try to sit up as you say these words, but your head begins pounding the minute it leaves the comfort of the grass.

“No, you aren’t.” Barry remarks and before you know it, his arms are wrapped around you and you place your arms around his neck, unconsciously. He lifts you up and you feel secure inside his arms.

“My hero,” and with that you press your lips against his.

****** Thank you to the lovely @yohoyohoafandomlifeforme for requesting this!

I couldn’t create this kind of monstrosity and keep it all to myself, so here it is: my ultimate Supernatural playlist, Greatest Hits of the Mullet Rock!

On this playlist you will find almost every single song ever played on Supernatural, as well as tracks that had episodes named after them, songs that were referenced on the show, and pieces from the score. There is also a “lite version” for those of you who don’t want the instrumentals, anemic pop music, or “Carry On Wayward Son” repeated more than ten times.

I hope you enjoy rocking out to this playlist as much as I enjoyed putting it together. The entire very long track listing is below!

Keep reading

No Reason to be Afriad

[title]: No Reason to be Afraid

[pairing]: Wanda x Reader

[prompt]:  Hey can you write a Wanda imagine about having really bad anxiety around men and Natasha and Wanda are the only ones who know about my past abuse situation with my father, and wanda comforts me while i have a panic attack front of the group when Tony does something too close to me or something? is this too complicated?

[warnings]: mentions of anxiety, mentions of abuse, angst, swearing

[important stuff]: italics are flashbacks, reader has pyrokinesis (the ability to manipulate fire)

Originally posted by jynnersooo

           They were intimidating. All of them. But who could blame her? There was a man that had God knows how many suits made of iron (not to mention that he created an AI that decided he wanted to destroy the fucking world), a crazy intelligent scientist that turns into a raging green monster when someone pokes him, a man with a bow and arrow and killer aim, a super soldier that towered over her, an ex-assassin with a metal arm, a tall Russian that could run circles around her, they even had a demigod for fuck’s sake.

Keep reading