#and they are still so fond of each other 25 years later
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rewatching early txf and seeing mulder and scully when they are so young and so enamored with each other is so heavy…they are so excited to have met each other and they are going to go through so much together…they are going to lose their entire families together. they are going to lose time and autonomy and health together. they are going to live together and die together and nearly die together and never die together. they are going to have and lose a child together, and see that loss in each other for the rest of their lives. they are going to look to each other anyway, for everything, and say things like “i’m always happy to see you” and “always happy to find a reason” even at their most distant and estranged. she doesn’t know it then, but running out into the rain after him in bellefleur will be the end of the life that she imagined for herself. she doesn’t know it then, but it will lead to the loss of her safety and her family and her career and her children. and when she does know all of those things, she says “i would do it all over again.” she says “i wouldn’t change a day.” she says “i don’t begrudge you any of those things.” she says “i want to remember how it all was.” and if she could do it all over again, she would still chase him into the rain and laugh when he said that aliens were summoning the kids to the forest and ask him where they were going next and follow to wherever the answer was. because they would rather do this life together than do any other apart.
#ignore her she has a cold#anyway that’s why you should watch the revival#even tho it is not good#because they made it#and they are still so fond of each other 25 years later#they don’t resent each other for anything because they’re so glad to know each other#and it’s so sad and so lovely at the same time#msr#txf#txf meta#kae meta
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The thing about drinking at 31 years old is that it's different from drinking at 18 years old– or 21 years old, or even 25 years old. Each shot, each drink, is one sip away from a terrible night’s sleep and an equally terrible morning.
Eddie Munson’s figured this out. Steve Harrington though? Steve Harrington has not.
That’s how Eddie finds himself corralling his husband onto the couch after stumbling into the house, the front door slamming loud enough to jolt their cat out of her otherwise peaceful slumber. She glares for a moment before stretching her paws and curling back into a neat little ball.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Steve repeats, an immediate tell that he’s definitely not making it any further than the couch anyways. “I’m good, I’m fine, this– this is a nice couch.” He punctuates his thought by slapping the cushion and laughing.
Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Yep, it sure is. You picked it out, remember?”
Steve gasps and laughs some more, falling back into the corner of the sectional. “I don’t but it’s comfy so if I did, I did a good fucking job.”
He watches with fond comfortability as Steve squirms around on the couch and lays back, arms over his head and dopey laugh still on his lips. It takes a lot of willpower and frankly, respect, not to climb on top of this giggly, flushed, disheveled man he loves so goddamn much and kiss him until he’s flushed for other reasons, but he digs deep and focuses on doing the next best thing: taking care of him. Eddie’s a little worse for the wear in his own right but a sliver of his iron constitution remains from his wild youth and he hangs on by a thread.
Eddie gets Steve situated into a comfortable position, his back against one side of the cushions and his head propped up on a few pillows to make sure he doesn’t end up with his face smushed into the corner somehow.
“I’m good, I’m fine– hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve slurs and Eddie looks up from his position at the end of the couch, his fingers moving quickly as he unties Steve’s sneakers.
“Taking your shoes off? You can’t sleep in your jeans, Stevie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
Steve hums from somewhere high in his throat but doesn’t say anything else Eddie moves to unhook his belt.
“Stop–stop it, hey, I’m married!” Steve smacks Eddie’s hand and Eddie barely suppresses a cackle. “You’re hot and all but I’m married and my husband’s hotter than you anyways.”
With that, Eddie can’t stop himself. Warmth spreads through his chest as he laughs, from his heart all the way down to the tingling in his toes. Even drunk, even with his eyes closed, Steve would still choose him without a thought and sure, after all these years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Because Steve is Steve, and Eddie is Eddie, and Eddie still hasn’t figured out what huge karmic debt he must’ve paid for them to have become SteveAndEddie.
He stares at Steve who’s nearly asleep but feebly muttering words like “hot,” and “perfect,” and “lucky.”
“Hey, hey, Stevie, open your eyes for a second?” Eddie brushes the hair back from his forehead, gently shifting it away from his bloodshot, glossy eyes. He’s beautiful, even like this, what the fuck?
“Oh,” Steve’s eyebrow unfurrow and the right side of his mouth turns up into a small grin. “It’s you. Hi, Ed.”
“Hi, Steve.” Eddie chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Gonna get your jeans off so you can sleep, okay?”
“Mhm, yeah, that’s– thanks.”
Eddie coaxes them off, tossing them onto a chair where they’ll remain until the next morning, and sets a glass of water down on the coffee table for when Steve inevitably wakes up with cottonmouth. One more soft kiss and an even softer blanket later, Steve is out and Eddie tip toes up the stairs to bed.
The next morning, Eddie wakes to see Steve next to him. At some point, he must’ve woken up and gotten himself to bed which gives Eddie the opportunity to stare uninterrupted in the silence of their bedroom. It stands in stark contrast to the boisterous night before– the loud music and jumping bodies and Chrissy popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of Robin saying yes, as if there’d ever been a doubt.
Steve’s on his back, the sun just starting to intrude on their tranquility. He takes in Steve’s features, the same ones he’s memorized time and time again but that never fail to stun him just the same. The moles, the freckles, the scars that make him ache and feel thankful simultaneously. The strong line of his jaw, the eyelashes that flutter as he sleeps, that one tendril of hair that insists on curling until Steve forces it into place. Eddie’s seen a lot of the world now, having traveled a bit with his band, and there’s nothing that compares to the man sleeping next to him.
Even if he’s snoring.
When Steve does eventually wake up, trudging downstairs with one eye open and asking why Long Island Iced Tea’s even exist, Eddie’s ready with the necessities– a black iced coffee, two sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches delivered to their doorstep, and a Gatorade for himself.
“You’re the fucking best, you know that?” Steve smiles through the pounding headache as he sips his coffee and tears into the sandwich.
“Eh, I try,” Eddie grins with a mouthful of egg and leans over to bump their shoulders together.
Comfortable quiet drapes over them like the blanket from last night still over the back of the couch, and like the jeans hanging off the recliner– little reminders of the night before and of the domesticity of the life they’ve built together.
Once Steve finishes his sandwich, their cat, Florence, hops up on the table and starts batting at the rolled up wrappers.
“Think she wants to play,” Steve grumbles, sliding off the couch and laying on the carpet. “Listen, Florence, you know I love you but kid, I cannot play right now. I’m barely alive.”
Eddie doubles over and nearly spits Gatorade all over the coffee table. Even their terrible, hungover, washed up mornings aren't all that bad.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stfic#very small buckingham reference#myblurbs#alcohol tw#this is is not at all a nearly 1:1 blurb based on me and my fiance last night and this morning#(he's steve)
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WAIT ITS BEEN THAT LONG IN THE CAMPAIGN??
Patataj and Rahadin have been dating for 1.5 years??? O.O
Idk why am I surprised knowing how time can be in DnD lol but the fact its been a while gives me hope things won't end too bad for them babsba
Altho it's cute Rahadin showed up to support his boyfriend I'm kinda suspicious of his answer GAH
OMG, I should have clarified this better: we have been playing this campaign for 1.5 years - the time passed for Patataj is only about 2 months and that's about the time that they're dating, or, well, know each other at least.
Let me tell you chronologically how he ended up in a relationship with Rahadin (this is LONG and has spoilers for CoS so beware):
Rahadin was the first person Patataj met after he woke up in Barovia (he got dragged in through a dream by, as we would later learn, the Abbot, who was looking for sun god support in his endeavor to fix the curse (of Strahd) and accidentally grabbed Patataj over Senna).
Rahadin was there to check out the newcomers mostly (and because my GM was scared of combat balance haha) and they went through the death house experience together. For Rahadin this meant nothing much, but for Patataj that's an intense bonding experience (also they were holding hands for most of it, as Patataj was the only one without darkvision).
After they made it out of the death house, Rahadin disappeared, but Patataj took up the sending spell on his level up a few days later and thus was able to send Rahadin little messages. That's how he was able to secure a meeting with him as well. That meeting went rather poorly, but he managed to not get killed. You must also know that by this time, Rahadin just seemed like a sulky, shy dusk elf to Patataj. Someone who would be funny to make flustered and drag out of their shell a little. Not much else. He hasn't really seen him do damage or anything.
He does start to ask random people he meets about Rahadin though and then slowly realized that, well, he does not seem to be a terribly well liked guy. Kasimir (the leader of the few surviving dusk elves) tells him to stay away from him, but Patataj doesn't quite know why, because he gets along quite well with him.
So after a few days (and after the party killed the Aboleth in the lake) he asks Rahadin for a second date to make up for the first one and to his surprise, Rahadin agreed.
They have like a romantic little boat ride and Rahadin even brings a scroll for Pataj so he can walk on water (because he mentioned missing being able to run in the open desert and the lake is...pretty big and the next best option). Of course Patataj goes for a run but in the end he can't just let Rahadin sit all alone in the boat so he offers him a ride.
And that's how this picture happened ahaha. YES, IT WAS ACTUALLY A THING not a dream or anything - I know!! Wild!
Centaurs don't just offer someone to sit on them willy-nilly (if at all), so in the end Patataj confesses to Rahadin that he caught feelings. He's a bard after all and centaur hearts beat fast.
Of course for Rahadin it's way too soon to reciprocate such feelings the same way (I mean, they knew each other for....two weeks at this point, maybe one? And he's like 500 years old. Them centaur hearts be moving in hyperspeed to him). But he still admits a certain fondness and they actually do kiss when Patataj asks for one.
Some time passes, Patataj keeps sending those sending messages and they interact like that every day. Just small things, as sendings have a limit of 25 words ahaha.
Eventually, Strahd invites the party for dinner, as he does. Everyone is low key terrified, but Patataj is excited to meet Rahadin again....and it goes well. Our warlock pisses Strahd off majorly because he continuously keeps the appearance of the girl Strahd is into, but Patataj is having a great time, even winning a bard-off against Escher.
Patataj ends up spending some of the night with Strahd, ending in him offering Strahd his blood (and I do not think he was even charmed. We're all still confused as well. Strahd just was very good with words and made Patataj feel sad for him okay?).
Rahadin ends up taking care of Patataj for the rest of the night and it all gets very emotional, they exchange gifts, they kiss more, Rahadin starts to open up a little about his past and other personal things.
No, nothing besides kissing happening - but hey, progress.
They are mostly back to sending messages and short meetings for most of the campaign then. This goes on for months in real time you know haha. It does sometimes skew with my perception how much time actually passes.
At some point Patataj manages to convince Rahadin to join a little party at the tavern in Vallaki and it's all very cute. They play like, throwing knives and never have I ever and it's really stupid but fun....thanks to probably the alcohol Rahadin does actually end up comfortable enough to do ....more than kissing that night, too. And that is actually also the last night they managed to spend together until now.
Meanwhile the campaign goes on, we go to Krezk like, twice, kill the Abbot, we do the Yester hill battle, defend Vallaki (where Rahadin was extremely worried). In Vallaki there was also one instance where Patataj almost died and sent some final words type of message to Rahadin and boy, Rahadin was UPSET about it. Mostly mad because the message did not include Patatajs whereabouts and such and it took him longer to find him. He was probably also upset that the whole thing made him so scared in the first place haha. Rahadin is not used to care about anything other than Strahd and maybe Anastrasia (and since they're both vampires, they die far less easy, so not much to worry there).
But yeah, this is how you manage to date Rahadin in Curse of Strahd: You need a GM who puts him in the campaign early enough and PERSISTENCE. It's not easy to make Rahadin care, but once he does, he's very loyal and your chances of survival become very good actually ('You wouldn't want to hurt Rahadins mate' worked very well with the werewolves for example lol) - but also it can be a little terrifying at times. Patataj is trying to come to terms with the fact that all the protection benefit he gets out of this also means that it is very likely that he will end up as a vampire in the end. Also there is no turning back. Rahadin is very unforgiving and I'm sure if Patataj would break his heart, Rahadin would slit his throat, because that's just how he deals with his problems. There is also still a chance Rahadin might follow Strahd's orders to kill Patataj despite his own feelings. It's 500 years vs a few weeks/months after all.
But I do think Rahadins feelings are genuine. He says the most romantic shit sometimes and he really was very supportive in the last session (at least as much as you could expect Rahadin to be). It was actually the first time he said 'I love you' in return! MORE PROGRESS!
And I also do think he doesn't just want to use Patataj for personal gain. He's not a very....scheming guy. Not that Patataj would care either way. He'd do almost anything for Rahadin at this point, aside of things that go against his morals of course. It's quite funny, really. Patataj knows of all the terrible things Rahadin has done by now, but he kind of shoves it aside under 'well he did it under Strahd's orders, he wouldn't have done it otherwise' because he just can't fathom Rahadin is THAT bad/uncaring, since to HIM he is extremely gentle and sweet, even if sometimes a little struggling with showing emotions. Love makes blind, I swear.
But I'm rambling. I hope they get a happy ending. At least Patataj would deserve one after everything (all the suffering and pain of people around him and his powerlessness to help are getting to him), but it IS Curse of Strahd and who knows what will happen. Even at the best outcome, he will have to kill some if not most of Rahadins 'family', in the worst outcome, Rahadin kills him. In the most likely, he ends up a vampire in Strahd's castle, never to see sunlight again.
So yeah, on that depressing note and for anyone who read this whole thing, I'll leave you with two songs from my Patadin playlist because who doesn't have songs for their OC?
Nessa Barrett - Die first
Amber Run - I found
#forgive me for this overly long post#but I have lot of feelings about this#I put a lot of my free time into it after all (if you calculate all the sessions and art) haha#so if people seem curious I will be like WELL YOU ASKED SO HERE WE GOOOO#hahaha#thrum rambles#DnD#Rahadin#Patataj#Curse of Strahd#centaur#would I recommend going for Rahadin? Hard to say#(depending of course whether or not your DM is willing to let you treat Curse of Strahd as a dating sim)#sometimes it feels like I accidentally cheated the game#sometimes I feel I'll pay a terrible price for it lol#WE WILL SEE
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(Valentina's pov)
We've definitely been enjoying our summer here in Brindleton Bay! We try and spend most of our day outside, now that the girls are toddlers we have a lot more freedom as to what we can do. Aria and Ansel have been going with their dad to fish in a nearby lake almost every day since summer started, and whilst they don't come back with a fish everyday, they come back with stories about their fishing adventures that I'm sure they'll look back on with fondness. Whilst we aren't actively doing schoolwork in the summer, we're still learning when we're outside. The kids research the kinds of fish that are local to our area, so they know how to identify anything they might catch. Ever since we got our chickens, we've been learning all the things about them like the differences between the eggs that are laid for us to eat versus the fertilised eggs that hatch into chicks. We've also been learning about the fruits and vegetables that we've been growing, as well as the local plants and animals in the area. We've been debating whether to move to a property that has more land to have more animals, but that's a big undertaking so we're definitely praying on it.
These four are proving to be thick as thieves, there's a year between them and they're determined to put me through my paces. I don't mind it though, I'm taking my time and cherishing all these memories while they're still young. Before I know it they'll be in school, then maybe even college, then getting married and moving out. I'm so thankful for the Lord choosing me to be the mama of these rambunctious kids.
(AN: The kid should really be a toddler cause he's 2 weeks younger then valentina's youngest 2, but lets pretend these are old pictures. Also, I hate that the infant blanket has to appear when they're being posed)
My sister Sabrina and her husband Tucker live further out in the country from us, but we still see them at church and manage to plan to see each other when our schedules align. Though Tucker's family still does their touring music ministry for parts of the year, Tucker and Sabrina have chosen to focus on maintaining the farm and being at home. They've even bought their own home close to the farm, as they wanted their own place for their growing family. Sabrina announced that they're expecting another baby by early next year!
My little brother Zachary is courting! He met Kelsey Parnell (19) last year when he was in Brindleton Bay to visit us, Kelsey lives in a town an hour away from Brindleton Bay but has the same social circles as our aunt Danielle. I guess my aunt is determined to have her nieces and nephews have ties to Brindleton Bay so that there will always be a way to see her, because this is now the 3rd couple she's used her match making skills on (the first being Me and Eric, the second being Sabrina and Tucker). Kelsey spends her time helping her mother at home, or working with the same ministry my aunt sometimes works with. They first met at a christmas bake sale to support an pro-life ministry, and would see each other everytime Zach would visit Brindleton Bay either for work or to see us. My parents were able to meet her parents as well and our families got along great, they agreed that it was okay for the two to get to know each other better in order for a courtship to happen, and recently Zach got the greenlight to ask her to start a courtship. Kelsey is a great girl, we've known her and her family for a few years and I think they'll make a great couple.
Celeste is also courting! She's in a courtship with a delightful young man named Reid Robbins (25) from Northbury, a town a few hours outside Britechester. They met through mutual friends when she was at a young women's retreat that was a ministry run by his church. She met one of his sisters and they became fast friends, and she later introduced the girls to her family and the rest of the church congregation. These two met and there was a group chat formed where they all got to know each other and challenged each other daily to keep up in their walk with the Lord. Between a few visits to Newcrest, a few visits to Northbury, and some group trips added into the mix, Reid had started to pray to the Lord about Celeste (what he didn't know is that she'd also started praying about him!). After discussing the fact with his parents, they contacted our parents and after both sides approved, he made his way to my parents house in Newcrest and officially asked her! Though she was excited, Celeste was slightly apprehensive at the beginning because she is slightly older than him (her being 27 and him being 25), but my sisters and I reassured her that if she felt the Lord leading her in that direction - then to follow where she's being led. Now she's happier than ever before, she's already started dreaming about what their wedding will look like!
#fundie sims#fundiesims#quiverfull sims#collins family#quiver full sims#modest sims#sims 4 legacy#collins legacy#homeschool sims#sims 4 courtship#sims 4 pregnancy#gen 3#Eric and Valentina#tucker and sabrina#Zachary and Kelsey#Reid and Celeste#gen 4#post#eric and valentinas kids are actually always outside#they wander everywhere#theres always one in the pen with the chickens#sabrina and tucker are shooting out children#both their families are very much the 'have all the babies' type#theyre also the 'marry young' crowd considering the courtships#celeste is giving allison bontrager energy but shes not got the outgoing personality#its mostly the younger man tbh#but at this point shes just happy to be in a relationship#three siblings on either side of her are all married with the last two still in highschool so she was def feeling the pressure
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Ship Game: Why do you think 1) Drarry 2) Jegulus 3) Wolfstar is so popular? :)
What an interesting ask, thank you anon! It goes without saying that I’m sharing below my personal thoughts and naturally they might be completely off the mark. I live in a fandom bubble and I won’t pretend to be familiar with fandoms I’m not a part of:
1) Drarry: tale as old as time, blonde/brunette enemies to lovers amirite 🌝 that trope is pretty universal and I think Drarry is natural mlm ship choice considering how obsessed they are with each other at school. Draco’s character could have been more / better developed imo but we still got a lot to work with and from, especially considering their kids become best friends in CC (though personally I love to pretend that epilogue never existed!). The fact that Drarry became this huge fandom and it’s very much alive and kicking even 25 years later is also very compelling, there are so many incredible works and talented creators around.
2) Jegulus: I don’t follow this fandom so I feel like I don’t know enough to have an opinion on it? I know it became popular recently and I have no clue how it happened but I’ve wondered about its appeal - maybe because Regulus is an actual spy (as opposed to Draco) it’s an exciting take on enemies to lovers? I don’t really delve into Marauders content and I also happen to have a soft spot for James/Sirius, so I’m as interested in Jegulus as the next guy. Would love to hear from someone who ships them if they wanna share their thoughts :)
3) Wolfstar: I love this ship despite not reading it and I think a big part of its appeal is the fact that they’re the closest we’ll get to a nice canon mlm ship. With Drarry as a flagship, I think it’s refreshing to have a big friends to lovers pairing too. Sometimes I feel like this trope doesn’t get as much love as it deserves! Remus and Sirius are such interesting characters, each with their own traumatic background, and their married couple banter is so wholesome. I remember they were my first HP ship reading the books and I’m very fond of my PoA memories. Also, Remus raising Harry (romantically involved with either Sirius or Snape) has been a fandom classic for years so I guess this element also appeals to those who love the found family trope. Too bad I don’t read everyone lives AUs 🥲
Send me ship asks!
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25. Feeding each other food for Ru and Estrid 😊
25. Feeding each other food (Rustrid)
featuring Estrid Soelberg @thatravenpuffwitch, Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier and Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-and-co💛
If one were to ask a magizoologist what best to feed a kelpie, most would answer that they're omnivores that will eat just about anything, but are very fond of fish, which is one of the two main things they hunt (the other being humans, which obviously is not a good idea to feed any kelpie you plan on domesticating).
If you were to have consulted Galen Stagg in the later years of his life, however, he would probably have smiled fully and immediately suggest apples. And the reason for the wistful, amused grin on his face would be the memory of his good friend Ru stealing apple pie right off of Estrid's fork one day at dinner one night.
"Ru!" Estrid said, startled. "That's mine."
Ru smirked.
"Didn't see your name on it," they said through the big mouthful of food.
"It was bound to happen, with you leaving it out there on your fork like that, Estrid," Siobhan said amusedly.
Galen gave a quiet laugh despite himself. "Hungry animals always pilfer food, when you get distracted."
"I was trying to listen to what you were saying," Estrid huffed.
She tried to scowl, but it was a bit hard, given how big her smile was. Ru was grinning more fully than ever as they lounged across the bench next to Estrid, their arm flopping down on the table as they propped their head up on their hand. They smacked their lips in a rather loud, uncouth kind of way.
"Mm...this is good," Ru said with interest. "Is that apple?"
"Yes," said Estrid.
"Have you never had apple pie before, Ru?" said Siobhan, surprised.
Ru's electric blue eyes flitted up to Siobhan quickly. Estrid could practically feel the pause they took before responding.
"...Well, the folks don't exactly bake a lot," they said gruffly. "Don't really spoil us much either, aside from stuffy dress robes and uncomfortable shoes."
Estrid knew this was a lie of sorts, given the real reason Ru had never had apple pie would've been because apple pie isn't something you can hunt inside or around the Black Lake...but, at the same time, it probably wasn't a complete lie, all the same. The Ollivanders had always been a rather distant and formal to the point of neglect sort of family, and they'd never really paid their youngest child much mind, either before or after Ru took the real Rudolph's place.
Galen smiled. "Well, this pie is a very good one. The elves really have outdone themselves with it."
Ru eyed the remainder of the piece of pie on Estrid's plate with interest. "Hm, yeah..."
Within a moment, they'd reached into their robes and pulled their box camera out of the inside pocket. They then immediately brought up in front of their right eye, peeking through it at Estrid's plate with single-minded focus.
"Ru," Estrid couldn't help but sigh even as her smile grew wider still, "are you seriously taking a picture of my pie?"
"It's a pie worth remembering," Ru said haughtily.
They frowned deeply as they set about trying to find the right angle, craning their neck and moving from the bench to down to the floor and back.
"Bloody lighting," they muttered more irritably. "If only the ceiling wasn't overcast -- some sun would do these shadows some good..."
They were so focused on what they were doing that they didn't even notice the fork right beside their mouth until Estrid lightly tapped their cheek with it. Ru opened their left eye and was startled to see another piece of apple pie skewered on the end of it and Estrid smiling fully.
"Galen thinks you should be eating dinner, not playing with it," she said airily.
She glanced significantly at Galen, who blushed a rosy pink as he brought his hand away from the apple pie tin that he'd slid across the table to sit in front of Ru. Siobhan was laughing.
Ru cocked their eyebrows very coolly at Estrid. Then, very slowly and pointedly, and while keeping eye contact with her the entire time, the kelpie leaned in and brought the fork into their mouth, sliding the pie off the prongs into their mouth and eating it. Once they'd swallowed the pie, they smacked their lips, smirking fully.
"...I can multitask," Ru said just as coolly in return.
Finally, breaking eye contact with Estrid at last, they then whipped back around to look through their camera at her pie. Estrid bowed her head, unable to bite back a laugh herself.
"So am I just not going to get my pie back?" she asked amusedly.
"Not until I'm happy with the shot," Ru shot back mischievously. After a moment, they added, "I'll, uh...take another piece, though -- if you and Galen are really so determined to make me eat while I work."
Estrid shook her head, but she smiled all the same as she cut Ru another piece of pie, skewered it with her fork, and offered it to them. Only once Ru had found a good resting position for their camera so that it wouldn't move when they looked up did they shift over enough to once again nip it off Estrid's fork and eat it, licking and smacking their lips happily, before looking back through the viewfinder.
"You do realize everyone's going to think you two are going steady all the more, after this," Siobhan teased them.
"Shut it," both Ru and Estrid said dully.
Relationship Prompts!
#relationship prompts#ru ollivander#estrid soelberg#galen stagg#siobhan llewelyn#other people's mcs#my writing#fanfiction
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Well I was wondering if you can make a Ayuri Kono x Marie Iitoyo x Reader Threesome smut, with lots of lesbian action and this may be a bit extreme but if you can maybe add a lot of foot fetish/worship where the two girls also have a fetish with each other’s feet
Okay, I finished it! So sorry for all the long delays but hope you can still enjoy it!
After a long time...
Characters: Ayuri Konno x Marie Iitoyo x Hidden Male Character
Category: Threesome, Foot fetish, lesbian, breastfeeding, anal sex,
P/s: This is the first time I write sex for foot so I cannot make sure if it's good or not
“Wanna have a competition to see who can swim 10 laps faster while waiting for him to come home, Marie?”
"I'll let you swim two laps first!"
"You're a bit overconfident, and you'll lose!"
"Let's see, sis!"
Ayuri and Marie, as usual, found temporary pleasures together while waiting for me to finish my work at the company, this time a swimming competition in my rather spacious indoor swimming pool. The two girls were swimming and playing as a way to relieve the heat outside. Ayuri is no longer in showbiz, so I have more time to have sex with her than Marie - an actress who is still involved in many projects, so whenever there is a chance, the two sisters are very happy together. Moreover, if it weren't for these occasions, I wouldn't have had the chance to make love to Marie. I'm still on my way home but watching the CCTV from the swimming pool, I can see that today will be a day when I will be able to work at full capacity with these two girls. Today they both chose red-pink tones for their bikinis but while Ayuri opted for a two-piece bikini, Marie opted for a simple bikini. But that doesn't matter because when I go to bed I will take them all off. Although Marie's time at home is very short, neither she nor I feel too fond of Marie thanks to Ayuri. Even though Ayuri is the sister, she is still a 25-year-old girl and only one year older than Marie, and her body is still very energetic and helps me to satisfy every night to back to work with Marie tomorrow morning. Speaking of Marie, I can only talk about when we had to do quickies at work. Fortunately, no one has noticed until now because Marie still needs to save face with her partner since I am still her manager, and even if they're all quickies, they're still enough for both of us to satisfy each other without having to make love properly when Marie still has a lot of schedules
Returning home after a long trip, I entered the house and still saw the two girls playing non-stop in the swimming pool. Both of them saw me and greeted me excitedly, if it was normal, I would also mingle with the two girls right now, but in this tired state, I have to eat and drink to regain my strength first. The two girls each got a towel out of the pool and then put on an oversized shirt to wait for dinner. After taking a shower, I rushed to cook dinner, and tonight's dinner was also quite fast because I was also more hungry than usual. The meal was just over when I got a call from Marie's partner (I'm still her manager, basically). After that, I went to the bedroom and took off all my clothes to prepare to take a shower, but still did not forget to tell the two girls who were still watching TV in the living room.
“You two will want to warm up before I get to work!”
Hearing my signal, the two girls happily ran straight into the room and then went to bed to give each other their first kisses. It seemed that the two of them had been waiting to do this for a long time, but because Marie was always busy, it had been a long time since they could kiss passionately like this again, moreover, they would groan together in a little later when I entered the game so they were more excited to kiss each other. Slowly two oversize shirts were also taken off and lying on the floor. Their hands began to caress each other's bodies, and while Marie stimulated Ayuri's cunt from outside the bikini, Ayuri couldn't stop massaging Marie's plump butt.
“You know where only you can make me moan the most, right?” - Ayuri said between kisses
“How could I forget, honey? But do you want me to go down there that soon?” - Marie looked at Ayuri affectionately
“We're warming up, so I want to moan soon so he will have to come out with us!” - Ayuri said god to Marie and turned her eyes towards the bathroom
Marie understood Ayuri's meaning but did not rush down there immediately, but kissed along Ayuri's body and then reached Ayuri's secret grave for Marie - her legs. Before marrying me, the two girls had attachments to each other's feet. So every time they make love, they stimulate each other's legs first to make the other unable to stand it any longer and then proceed to bring each other to orgasm. But Ayuri hadn't felt that way in a long time, so when the opportunity came, she wanted to do it as soon as possible. Marie even though she hasn't done this for a long time, is still too skilful, she starts with a lick along the soles of her feet that makes Ayuri's body twitch, then Marie takes care of each toe carefully one by one which made her start to let out soft moans
“Ah…that’s right, Marie…more…ah”
True to Ayuri's plan, those groans entered the bathroom and reached my ears. I was quite surprised that Ayuri was playing back so early, but obviously, these groans were just the beginning so I took a leisurely bath. In the bedroom, Marie still showed no signs of stopping while Ayuri was getting closer and closer to her limit. Ayuri's craving was getting closer and closer, and I didn't have to wait long for that moment
“Darling…ah…come out with us…ah…I can’t take it anymore…ah”
That's the sound I've been waiting for. My whole body is now clean and I don't use towels anymore but go to the bedroom with my naked body. I picked up Marie and pushed Ayuri down on the bed with Marie, I also lay between the two girls. I kissed Ayuri who was in a daze first and then turned to Marie. Then I put my hand behind Marie's back and unclip her bra, Marie's breasts were released so I couldn't wait any longer and went to suck them, feeling my wife's breasts after a long time is really different. Ayuri also took off her bra herself and brought her breasts close to my mouth, the offer was hard to refuse so I sucked on both nipples at the same time as they continued to exchange kisses. Ayuri's cunt was soaked in pink panties after her toes were cared for by Marie. And Marie, after her breasts were well cared for, began to moan and her cunt began to get wet. Ayuri's panties were easier to take off, so I crawled down and pressed my face against Ayuri's cunt first and coordinated with Marie to take off her panties. Above the two girls pulled each other into the next kiss which made my head stuck even more underneath. Ayuri's thighs clamped my head back so I could enjoy her cunt more while my fingers went inside Marie's cunt. Once the two lips parted, there were only continuous moans, two tones of groaning voices resounding throughout the room just as the two girls wanted. Even though I sucked on Ayuri's cunt every day, there was never a time when I didn't feel the urge to bury myself in it to be given that milky liquid by her. Her pussy, her ass, and her legs are the places where she can climax the fastest, and stimulating them is my favourite thing to do.
"Ayuri, let's shoot me in the mouth" - I said between sucks
“Yes…I can’t take it…ah...anymore...ah” - Ayuri said while being attacked by both Marie and me
Being attacked so hard, Ayuri could only groan and then spit the liquid continuously into my mouth, the sweet taste still inside the liquid. Even though Ayuri had just had an orgasm, she continued to suck on Marie's breasts, and I also turned to Marie's cunt and inserted 3 fingers inside Ayuri's cunt, so I also enjoyed her secretions. Marie has the same sweet taste, but since it's been a long time since I've tasted it, it feels like Marie's juice is better than Ayuri's. Above the two girls still couldn't stop kissing, so I inserted the fingers of my free hand into Marie's cunt and crept up to break the two girls' unfinished kiss and replace it with kisses. my alternate kiss.
“Now, which one of you wants to be filled first?” - I said but still didn't slow down my fingers in and out below
“Ah…Marie goes first…I think she looks like she's about to shoot…ah” Ayuri said between groans.
“That's right…ah…I'm not going to take it anymore…ah” - Marie continued
I put my dick inside Marie's cunt and started pushing hard. Marie's breasts bounced back and forth between thrusts which motivated me to push harder, I buried my face in Marie's breasts while Marie sucked on Ayuri's breasts. The room was now only for moans, the slap of flesh, and even the sounds of sucking lips. My cock's kicks were only getting faster and stronger, making both of them almost reach their limit.
“I'm going to cum Marie…ah” - I too have to moan at this wonderful pleasure
“Hurry up and fill me up, honey…Kimochi…ah” - Marie replied
So I shot into Marie, and the waves of sperm came rushing in like it was shot out of a six-barreled gun. Meanwhile, Ayuri couldn't take it anymore and shot more liquid into my hand and fell on the bed. I raised my hand and licked what Ayuri gave me with utmost enjoyment before I turned Ayuri's body around and lifted her hips.
"Now it's your turn to be filled, Ayuri!"
“Come on baby…ah…I want you so much!”
My cock, still covered with both my and Marie's fluid, was brought right into Ayuri's ass and I started to smack Ayuri hard, making her moan. Marie had just been filled so her whole body was exhausted, but when she was just lying there, I put my fingers in to continue to get more fluid from Marie, and the two girls continued to moan loudly. Marie then knelt with me and brought my head to her breast to suck her nipple. Ayuri's asshole has been a place I've filled her insides all along, but this time it will have to share rations with Marie. Even so, I shot inside just enough for Ayuri to fill up and let her lie there panting before turning and filling Marie's insides. It's been a long time since I've been able to cling to Marie's fragile body to be Doggy. I pounded Marie's ass while squeezing one of her breasts while Ayuri enjoyed the other. After filling up Marie, I tiredly lay down with the two girls, my mouth still couldn't leave the red and pink nipples.
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8. like we’re made of starlight (Mileven)
A/N: Here’s day 8 of @flufftober’s Flufftober for this year!!! Expect more later tonight and tomorrow!!!
Pairing: Mike Wheeler x El Hopper, Will Byers x Male!OC
Summary: Mike, El, Will, and Matthew walk home from the subway after spending some time at a little farm and pumpkin patch and some wishes are made.
Prompt: Day 8 - Shooting Stars
Tags: Fluff and friendship, Will Byers with a boyfriend :DDD
Song Inspiration: Starlight By Taylor Swift
Word Count: 766
Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.
[Day 1] [Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7] [Day 8] [Day 9] [Day 10] [Day 11] [Day 12] [Day 13] [Day 14] [Day 15] [Day 16] [Day 17] [Day 18] [Day 19] [Day 20] [Day 21] [Day 22] [Day 23] [Day 24] [Day 25] [Day 26] [Day 27] [Day 28] [Day 29] [Day 30] [Day 31]
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And there the 4 of them are, walking down the dim sidewalk each carrying their own basket of pumpkins and other autumn goodies from the farm they had just been at. El looks over at her brother walking along beside her. Matthew is on Will's other side and the two of them are watching each other in admiration, only looking away occasionally to make sure they aren't going to trip on the ground. They're walking close enough to each other that they bump shoulders every other step. El smiles fondly, seeing him so happy. Matthew seems like an amazing guy and he makes Will so happy, El's glad they found each other and she can't wait to get to know Matthew more in the future.
She's startled from her thoughts by an elbow nudging her other side and she turns to see Mike looking at her. Her smile turns slightly bashful. "Hey." She whispers to him.
"Hey." He whispers back, returning her smile. His ears and nose are pink from the cold air around them and he's been wearing this light orange beanie all day that's absolutely adorable on him.
El looks down for a moment, overwhelmed by how taken she is by him. She shakes her head at herself right as she hears Matthew speak up. "Guys, look!"
El and Mike look up to where Matthew's pointing, Will's eyes already there as well. In the sky, among the faint stars above them, a streak passes by in a line of white light, just slightly brighter than the other stars around it. El's eyes light up and she beams. A shooting star. An instinct as old as she is has her closing her eyes and making a little wish, suddenly feeling so much younger than she actually was. Maybe it's childish, but it still brought her just as much joy now as it did when she was a kid.
She opens her eyes and immediately looks to Mike, her body making the decision before her brain does. His eyes are closed, too, and he opens them slowly. When he realizes she's staring at him, he flushes and ducks his head before looking at her again. "W-what did you wish for?" He stutters out slightly.
You. El's mind whispers. She shakes her head at him instead. "I can't tell you that, silly. If I tell you what my wish is, it won't come true." She states playfully, though she knew that it wasn't at all true considering their conversation the night before.
Will snorts on her other side. "Seriously, Gracie?" Will questioned, his nickname for her holding the same fondness and familiarity as always. "I don't care if anyone hears my wish." He states matter-of-factly.
"Oh, really?" El questions. "Then what did you wish for?" She asks. She could hear faint snickers from Mike and Matthew, but she didn't really care.
Will's grin suddenly turns dopey and lovesick as he answers. "That I'll be able to take Matthew home for Christmas to meet mom and dad." He tells her honestly.
At his words, El turns to look at Matthew to see his reaction and is pleased when she sees Matthew turn bright red, smiling shyly at Will as Will catches his eye. "I th-think that could be a-arranged." Matthew spoke quietly. Will beams at his boyfriend and leans over to kiss him sweetly.
"Well aren't they just adorable." Mike says, his voice close to El's ear. She jumps slightly and turns towards him once again.
"Yes, they're the cutest." She answers, her cheeks hot from Mike's previous closeness.
"The cutest, huh?" Mike questions, raising an eyebrow at her. He's giving her a knowing look, like there's some secret that only the two of them know, and El has a feeling she knows exactly what he's talking about.
"Okay, maybe not the cutest." She whispers to him softly, their shoulders bumping together.
"Is it weird that I really wish I could hold your hand right now?" Mike asks her, biting his bottom lip like he's uncertain of his own question.
El giggles softly. "Not at all. I'd definitely allow it, too, if I had a free hand to be held." She admits. "Maybe next time." She says, giving him a look full of sincerity.
Mike gives her a look back full of happiness and warmth. "Next time." He echoes, and El gives him the same exact look back.
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A/N: Here we go!!! Finally started writing more days!!!!! Definitely gonna be posting more of these within the next 24 hours!!! Let me know what you think of this one!!!! I really love it a lot and I was super exicted to add in more characters!!!!! Hope you’re having an amazing day/night!!!!! 💜💜💜
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Taglist:
@the-ancient-fae
#purple_strxnger#flufftober2022#day 8#stranger things#mileven#el hopper#eleven#mike wheeler#will byers#male oc#male!oc#original character#mike x el#mike x eleven#mike wheeler x el hopper#mike wheeler x eleven#el x mike#eleven x mike#el hopper x mike wheeler#eleven x mike wheeler#will byers x oc#will byers x male oc#will byers x male!oc#mileven fluff#strangers things au#mileven fanfic#mileven fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#mileven au#au
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Drunken Monkey Bread 🐒
We lovvve rum. Especially smooth, aged, sipping rum. So we’ve had Zacapa, and similar offerings. Amazing, no doubt. But years ago, in Costa Rica, I was introduced to Ron Centenario 25 Year Gran Reserva.
And, whoa. My rum game hath changeth.
I mean, if butterscotch, silk, slow jams, and fairy dust came together in the smoothest, most magical elixir, this would be that. And while I’d never suggest using a $70+ bottle of reserve rum in a dessert recipe, I’m as fond of using rum in my baking & cooking, as I am of tasting it in a glass or cocktail🍹
Reason being: Rum is easily one of the most versatile, swoonworthy additions to baked goods, desserts, recipes of all kinds. And IMHO, also one of the most under-utilized!
A nice spiced or dark rum brings a depth of flavor that amps up the goodness and complexity of every other ingredient it touches. Butter? Butter rum! Cheese? Yes, even 🧀: One of my all-time favorites is finished with rum. And its salty, rum-washed, buttery flavor consistently makes it the unicorn of every cheese board I’ve ever put out. People say, “Rum? In cheese?”, and look at me suspiciously. Then taste it. And devour it, before all else ;)
So, because there’s big energy in rum, and a lot of flavor coming together in this, not to mention an inherent sweetness in most 🐒 bread to begin with, I decided to add some cardamom, and a hint of macadamia nut liqueur, along with rum I’d added. To make it nuttier and more unique, flavor-wise.
Using biscuit dough allows you to shave time off the recipe. But it’ll still taste like you spent the whole day baking (cue fainting couch ;)
So if you’re looking for a new, Supah Tasty brunch idea for the weekend, or just want a little somethin-somethin with your morning coffee, give it a go!
Here’s what you’ll need:
• 1/4 cup unsweetened 🥥 flakes
• 1/2 cup spiced rum🍹
• 2-3 cans buttermilk biscuits
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 3 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. cardamom
• 1/4 cup sliced toasted almonds
• 2 sticks unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 3-4 tbsp. macadamia nut liqueur
Preheat your oven to 350ºF. Pour the coconut flakes into a bowl with your spiced rum, allowing them to soak it all in for the next 15 minutes.
Cut your biscuits into quarters. Mix white sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, almonds in another large bowl. Drop your biscuit pieces into the mix, coating each evenly and generously.
Once your 🥥 is done soaking, strain it well, setting aside the rum it soaked in (it’ll smell all coconut-y & wonderful but don’t drink it! You need it later ;)
Add the coconut to the bowl with your biscuit dough, etc. Coat inside of Bundt pan with butter, add biscuit pieces, coconut, etc., in an even layer.
Now combine two sticks of butter, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 3-4 tbsp. macadamia nut liqueur, rum you set aside from the coconut, in a pan on medium-high. Stir regularly for a few minutes until it boils, and the sugar has dissolved.
Drizzle that rummy-buttery-goodness over the dough evenly, and pop it in the oven for 35-40 min, until the top is a nice shade of golden brown.
Remove and allow to cool 25-30 min. before turning it over onto a plate, to release your creation. Enjoy! 🥥🍹
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Sunkissed
Part 1 of Sunkissed where (Y/n) is a single mom to an uncoordinated kid, who happens to have surf lessons with a very cute man ;)
Tropes: Strangers-to-lovers, Single mom!(Y/n), Surfer!H, beginning of Stepdad!H, Teacher!H (?)
Warnings: suggestive content, smut on part 2 though. Word count: 8k.
My friend Sarah (@harryforvogue) beta read and edited everything so thanks to her!!!! <3
Here is the link to part 2 and wattpad (Y/n is Catarina on wattpad!!) Please tell me what you think!!!
“Mom c’mon, we are gonna be late,” rushed the 6-year-olf boy, taking (Y/n)’s hand, making the woman stumble on her feet on the hot sand. “All the kids are gonna be way ahead of me in the lessons!”
“Hey, calm down, yeah? I’m not as young as you anymore, plus I’m the one carrying your bag,” said (Y/n). She didn’t blame Cauã, her son, for his excitement. Today was the first week of summer which meant the first day of his surfing lessons.
While in a conference at her son's school, the P.E made sure (Y/n) knew how behind Cauã was in comparison to the other kids. Apparently, Cauã was more uncoordinated than expected, so it was highly suggested that he participated in some kind of sport.
At first, (Y/n) was a bit astounded by it. She knew he was a bit clumsy, of course he would be! It was in his DNA to be bad at sports, he had asthma and his own mother could barely kick a ball. But she didn't know this was affecting him negatively, she always thought he was more inclined to the arts, like her.
On the drive home, she and Cauã had a conversation and decided to try new things. (Y/n) suggested soccer, basketball, baseball, but he would deny everything, mumbling he was scared of the ball– No wonder he was her child.
So as they were passing by the beach, she realized they were in California. Why not try some water sports?
When she suggested surfing she could see the adorable toothless smile she was so fond of appearing on his face through the rearview mirror.
When they got home she immediately looked for Surf Schools near the area of Windansea Beach. It was the closest beach, only a ten-minute drive from their place. The sea was not rough there, so (Y/n) wouldn't feel so scared of having Cauã swimming and surfing there.
After some time researching on Google, (Y/n) found the perfect “school.” The lessons were held from 2 pm to 4 pm every Saturday and Sunday, and the best part was that you didn't need to buy a surfboard, they would lend one for each kid during the teaching.
(Y/n)'s wallet cried reading that. Raising a kid with only a small studio where she would teach art wasn’t exactly easy, but she always managed
The next thing they needed was a surf suit, Cauã wanted it to be yellow. So they both went shopping, and couldn't be happier to find one in a swim shop.
And that's how (Y/n) ended up getting dragged through the sand by her own child.
They were a bit late, (Y/n)’s art studio wasn't supposed to be open Saturday, but one of her students wanted to practice on their sculpture, so she couldn't say no. (Y/n) ended up closing the school 2 hours later, which made her and Cauã late by 15 minutes. It wasn't even that much, but he was being a little dramatic.
When they spotted the small group of children and their parents at the next lifeguard tower, Cauã left her hand and went running to them.
That left (Y/n) alone, looking like a crazy woman at the beach, with her overalls stained with clay and her hair looking like a bird’s nest due to the ridiculous wind.
"Cauã, don't run! You're gonna end up needing your inhaler," said (Y/n), running to him. She could see the head of the group ahead turning to them. Oh great. Now she was a late and crazy parent.
(Y/n) always tried to be the best parent she could be. Ending up pregnant at 19 wasn't easy, but being judged by her age was the worst part. She knew Cauã wasn't missing out on anything by having a young mother, but (Y/n) still didn't like the look people gave when she told them she was 25 years old with a 6-year-old boy.
They got closer to the group of people, right when a man greeted them. "Oh hello, you must be–" said the man looking at a blue notebook, probably one of the teachers, she knew this class had two. "(Y/n) and Caun?"
"It's pronounced as Kauan, sir, it's a Brazilian name!" answered the boy to the tall tattooed teacher. He wasn't what she expected a children's teacher to be. "My mom is a bit disorganized with her time so we–" continued Cauã.
"Hey hey, I'm not disorganized, mister,” murmured (Y/n) to Cauã.
"I'm sorry, I had a bit of a problem at my job, that's why we are only 15 minutes late," explained (Y/n), now looking at the teacher. He was probably Mr. Styles, since the other teacher was supposed to be a woman.
"Well, Mrs. Mila just finished talking to the parents and the kids about the rules while we are surfing, so they can go on and start doing some exercises. I'm afraid both of you are gonna have to wait a little more to get into action."
What an asshole, (Y/n) thought, they couldn't have lost that much information in such a little amount of time.
After the man finished scolding (Y/n), Mrs. Mila, a blonde woman in her 30s, called the parents and the kids to follow her to another part of the beach, closer to the sea.
Everyone besides (Y/n) and Cauã.
Cauã looked at his mom, face filled with disappointment. There was the worst part of motherhood, the guilt of not giving your best to your kid.
Before (Y/n) could comfort Cauã or scream at Mr.Styles – she hadn't decided which one to do first – the teacher put a hand on Cauã's back and told him softly.
"But it's ok buddy, you will catch up to them real fast, we just need to talk about how to be safe and understand the sea first."
"Ok Mr. Styles," answered the sweet boy, smiling at the man.
"Don't need to call me Mr. Styles, alright? Just call me Harry."
Maybe he wasn't that much of an asshole, at least he realized (Y/n) was the one to blame, not Cauã. She also recognized a British accent in his voice.
"So I see you got your surf suit on, it looks really nice on you. Is yellow your favorite color?" asked Harry sitting down in the sand. Cauã did the same thing sitting in front of him, happy to have a one-to-one time with the teacher.
(Y/n) didn't quite know what to do with herself, should she sit down with them? Stay standing? She decided on the first option, sitting by Cauã's side.
"Yeah! I love every color but yellow is my favorite, it's my mom's favorite too." Harry looked at (Y/n), looking at her yellow-and dirty–overalls.
"Yeah, I see that," hummed Harry.
“Cauã is here because the school thought he is a bit behind on his motor skills, so we think surfing is a good option,” interfered (Y/n), looking at Harry with attention this time. His eyes were green, and his surf suit was black, the tightness of it made the muscle on his arm show up.
“Mom, don’t tell him that,” mumbled the boy embarrassed, looking at her.
“It’s alright Cauã. If you really wanna stick to surfing, we need to have good communication, and that means talking about things we don’t like,” said Harry. He could feel the boy’s discomfort.
(Y/n) also heard how Harry said Cauã’s name correctly, most people don’t even bother getting it right, since it’s not an English name.
“While we are at the sea bad things can happen, so we always need to tell our colleagues what we are feeling,” he continued, looking at Cauã and then at (Y/n). “Is there something you want to tell me before we start talking about the rules?”
Before (Y/n) could answer for him, Cauã spoke quietly. “I have asthma. That’s why I can’t run as fast as the others.”
Harry smiled at his response, a weird excitement on his face. “Guess what!”
“What is it Mr.Sty- Harry?” bubbled Cauã, sitting now on his knees.
“I have asthma too! You and I are alike, don’t you think?”
(Y/n) could swear she saw stars in her son’s eyes. Cauã’s dad wasn’t around much, picking him up here and there to spend an afternoon in the park or at his place. But after he moved away to Nevada, almost 6 months ago, the boy never saw his dad again, not in person at least. Sometimes they would video chat for 10 minutes. It was good to see that he finally felt close to a man’s figure.
“Wow, that’s so cool! That means I can be strong like you someday.”
“Exactly! If you decide that surfing is your thing I will make sure you turn out even better than me.” Harry smiled. “But now we have to go through some rules, ok?”
The boy confirmed.
“If you ever feel any kind of pain or discomfort, you need to tell me, Mrs. Mila, or your mom because your well-being is what comes in first place,” explained the man with a serious tone. “Especially when it comes to your asthma, if you feel the need to use your inhaler while you’re surfing you need to let us know as soon as possible, so we can bring you to the sand.”
Cauã was nodding in response all along.
“I believe your mom keeps one with her, right?” asked Harry, looking at (Y/n), brows raised, waiting for a response.
"Of course! I always keep two in this bag and-”
“Ok, thank you,” interrupted Harry.
(Y/n) was growing mad at the teacher. He had the right to be mad about the lateness, but continuing to treat her harshly even after she explained it was due to her job?
"We have a very treat people with kindness policy, so we are always respectful. We don't hit and don't call names, alright Cauã?"
Look at the rude man talking about kindness, (Y/n) thought to herself. Good thing her boy would never do anything like that, he was the most gentle human ever.
"The last rule is you always listen to me and Mrs. Mila because the ocean can be dangerous, and I need to trust that you will follow our lead in any type of situation." Harry reached his hand out to Cauã. "Can I trust you? Do we have a deal?"
Without hesitation, he answered, grabbing his hand and shaking it, "Of course Harry, I'm a man of my word."
"Man? You barely lost your front tooth!" teased Harry, (Y/n) couldn't help but laugh. "Now you can join Mrs. Mila and the other kids, me and your mom need to talk for a bit."
The boy did so, getting closer and closer to the group of people who were only 10 meters away. The parents were talking while sitting on a blanket. The kids were mirroring the other teacher doing jumping jacks.
"Does he have any other condition?" asked Harry, the smile on his face long forgotten.
"He is prone to get pneumonia so if we have a cold day we probably won't come." She was now standing on her feet, just like the teacher was. "Oh and he broke his wrist 2 years ago, don't know if that's important."
He wasn't looking at her now, he was writing things on the notebook, probably repeating what she told him in the paper.
"It's good to know," he mumbled,"because punctuality is really important for us. I hope that won’t happen again tomorrow,” continued Harry with the same scolding tone as before.
“That won’t happen, Harry,” answered (Y/n). They were going to be the earliest people at the beach tomorrow and next Saturday. It was a promise she just made with herself. Maybe she could work later on Friday and be free all Saturday. Yeah! That’s what she was going to do.
“Please, call me Mr. Styles. I prefer to keep the relationship with the parents more professional than with the kids.”
(Y/n) could feel the blood going all the way to her cheeks. Fuck. She thought it was ok to call him by his first name since he let Cauã do so.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect you in any way.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry Mrs-?”
“It’s Miss actually, Miss (Y/L/N).”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. His dad is coming to town in a few weeks, so maybe he’s gonna miss a few lessons. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
“It won’t, don’t worry.” The man just hummed in response, picking up his surf and turning around, going after where his students were.
(Y/n) couldn't help but look at his butt (respectfully). That suit was really doing wonders. But she stopped looking when his head turned to her.
“You have clay and yellow paint in your face, Miss (Y/L/N),” he simply said, leaving the girl alone to clean her face while she cursed herself over and over. Cauã could have warned her about it!
“Ok guys, everybody has their surfboards, right? I want you to put them in the sand and lay down on them. We are gonna learn how to paddle,” explained Mrs. Mila. The blonde woman seemed tougher with the kids than Harry since he was always joking and clarifying the doubts his students had with a smile on his face.
While Harry and Mila were giving instructions about paddling, (Y/n) and the other parents - three moms and two dads - were talking about their jobs and having small talk. (Y/n) liked Miranda, Clara’s mom. Clara was a girl the same age as Cauã she was also a teacher, but unlike (Y/n) she worked in a real school, not in a small rented studio.
“Okay, now that you know how to paddle, we are gonna learn how to pop up on the surfboard. The ones you have are longboards and they have more space to stand up, and if you applied the paraffin the right way there won’t be any problems,” (Y/n) heard Harry say. He was demonstrating while Mrs. Mila went around the six kids, making sure they were doing it right.
“The method we are using is called ‘sliding the knee’. You first slide both knees forward and into th- not like that Clara, position your knee first, and then your feet- Yeah, like that,” he continued. “You put the other knee into the surfboard and bring the front foot forward, in between your hands - Exactly Clara, now you got it right- and then you stand up.”
(Y/n) could see that Cauã was having a bit of an issue understanding how to do it properly. Mrs. Milla was having to position his knee for him. The other kids seemed fine. Clara was a bit uncoordinated too, but Harry was there helping her.
She felt like she made the right choice choosing such a small class. There were only 6 students, so the teachers really took their time with each one of them. Cauã didn't have that in PE class so if he was having a hard time the teacher would only tell him to pick another activity.
As a teacher herself, (Y/n) knew how hard it could be to teach. Normally she would only teach teenagers or adults how to paint or draw and they weren't a handful, but kids? They were hard.
“Let’s try the pop-up until everybody gets it,” said Mrs. Mila to all six kids, still trying to make Cauã put his knee a bit more forward.
The class was almost over, the kids were training to paddle and pop up together and all of them were getting better at it. Clara and Cauã weren’t confusing the right foot with the last foot anymore.
“I think that’s good for the day guys, it's already 4:05. Tomorrow you're gonna train how to paddle and pop up the water! No riding waves though,” said Harry, helping the kids by putting the surfboard inside the lifeguard tower. He probably asked for the key, or he was committing a crime against private property. (Y/n) wouldn't be surprised by it. “Ok, I think we are all done here. Does anyone have any questions?”
All parents said no, waving goodbyes, wishing a good evening, so Harry came back to organize his belongings. He pressed a kiss to Mrs. Mila’s cheek before she turned around, in the direction of the street.
Cauã headed to (Y/n) and she congratulated him. “You did so well, baby! I’m proud of you.” She noticed it was becoming a bit chillier. “Put this jacket on, it's windy right now.”
She helped the boy put on his clothes, the yellow of the suit making a pretty contrast between his green jacket. “Do you think I’m too slow, mom?” asked Cauã while (Y/n) put his arm through one of the arm’s holes.
“Of course not honey, why do you think that?” (Y/n) questioned, placing her warm hand on the boy's shoulder and closing the coat’s zipper.
“Jake could stand up without stumbling on his feet right away,” answered the boy, looking down.
“People learn things in different ways, and at the end of the lesson you did get it right a handful of times, and that’s what matters, ok? Now let’s go home. Guess what we are ordering tonight,” said (Y/n), trying to comfort him.
She knew it worked when she saw that adorable smile and heard him bounce in excitement.
“It’s pizza, isn’t it?!”
“Exactly, my smart boy,” she laughed, hugging him by the shoulder, leading them away from the beach.
“Hey, Miss (Y/L/N),” she heard Harry say.
“Yes?”
“Make sure to clean your face tomorrow.” A smirk appeared on his face.
(Y/n) turned Cauã away from Harry and showed the teacher her middle finger. He just smiled, turning away to pick up the paraffin packets, heading in the opposite direction.
“I think Harry is really funny, mom,” said the boy, heading to the car.
“Oh yeah, Mr. Styles is lovely,” answered (Y/n) with sarcasm. Cauã didn’t get it. “Now go on and buckle up, you can choose the song for the road.”
When they got home, (Y/n) made sure Cauã had his shower and afternoon snack. The boy started to eat so much, she was gonna be bankrupt if he kept the habit of eating one package of cookies every single day.
After Cauã was all set up in his Avengers pajamas, (Y/n) decided to finish some drawings she had been working on. It was difficult to get inspiration lately, every day was monotonous and uninteresting.
Maybe this summer she could make a little trip with Cauã and rent an Airbnb. She was going to be insane if she kept her little routine of teaching and coming home, of course now both of them had gatherings at the beach, but (Y/n) still missed something. She was eager for something more.
"Hey, what about after the week you spend with your dad we go on a little vacation? We could go camping for a couple of days, or rent a cottage in the mountains somewhere," suggested (Y/n) to the boy playing with the Legos.
"In the mountains?" asked Cauã, looking up, abandoning his toy. "What if a bear eats us, mom?"
"No bear will eat us, they will all be frightened by me," played (Y/n), flexing her arm. "Look at this muscle. I'm strong, baby."
"Mom, I'm sorry, but I don't see any muscles there."
"Oh, you don't? Could you please tell me who opens your peanut butter jar every morning?" smiled (Y/n) getting closer to him. It was time for the tickle monster to appear. "Who built your bed? Me! Me and my muscles."
(Y/n) was getting closer and closer, Cauã's eyes were big and alert. "What are you doing, mommy?" asked the boy, getting ready to run at any moment.
"It's tickle time!" screamed (Y/n) going after the boy, his laughter filling the whole room.
He first jumped on the couch, and then both of them ran circles around the table before (Y/n) finally got the boy, tickling him.
"Mom!" laughed Cauã when (Y/n) got closer to his belly. It's where he was the most ticklish.
(Y/n) noticed he started to be out of breath because of the laughter, so she stopped, putting him on her lap.
"Ok, I give up, you won. Now breathe a little," her hands were making circles on his back, chin resting on the top of his head.
"I'm good now, mom, It's fine."
The sound of the house bell was heard, and the door handle opened. A tall woman got inside the house, a pizza in her hands.
"Auntie Jesse!" screamed the boy hugging Jesse, (Y/n)'s older sister.
"Hi bug, how are you?" she asked, putting the pizza on the table, greeting (Y/n) with a kiss on the cheek.
(Y/n) had given one copy of the key to her when they first moved in years ago. It was safer considering Cauã only had her and Jesse as caretakers. If anything were to happen to (Y/n), Jesse would be able to get into the house.
It was also good to have a key copy with her because (Y/n) tended to lose her keys a lot. One day, she and Cauã had to wait two hours outside their own house because (Y/n) lost the key and they needed Jesse's.
"I'm good. Did you know I started surfing today?"
"Oh, your mom told me. How was it? Did you like it?"
(Y/n) listened to Cauã tell his aunt about their day at the beach while she got the table ready, placing the plates and the cutlery. Yeah, they ate pizza with forks and knives. It was a “Brazilian tradition” her dad taught them. (Y/n) and Jesse couldn't quite let it go, even after his death 6 years ago, the same year Cauã was born.
"– And Harry is the other teacher, he is super cool, auntie," continued the boy. He was so happy talking about the teacher, (Y/n) almost felt sorry for rolling her eyes when Harry was mentioned...almost.
As they sat to eat, they would make small conversations, Jesse told (Y/n) about her new gigs as a photographer, and (Y/n) made sure to fill her in about how the art school and the lack of inspiration. Even Cauã added to the conversation, complaining about how boring his cartoon was becoming.
"Mom, can I watch Netflix? Please?" asked the boy after they finished eating, putting his dish on the sink.
"You can, but only the cartoons and movies are available for the kids’ profile," warned (Y/n).
Last month (Y/n) caught Cauã watching Big Mouth and almost had a stroke. He got into her profile thinking it was his. Since then she's been paying more attention to the things he was watching.
"Here, let me help you with the dishes," offered Jesse. "So it's been hard to paint again?"
(Y/n) grabbed the dishcloth and started drying the dishes Jesse was cleaning. "Yeah, it's like I can't find anything beautiful to paint. I only keep on making sketches of Cauã and random flowers. How can I teach art if I can't make new drawings?"
"Well, I think you are too stressed out these past few days, Cauã's dad coming to town and you having to bring him every day to the art classes you teach,” said Jesse.
She was only 2 years older than (Y/n). They grew up together as best friends due to the small age gap. Jesse, short for Jéssica, was the rebel child, so you can imagine their parents' reaction when sweet little (Y/n) was the one who showed up pregnant.
"I think you should go out. When was the last time you went somewhere without the little bug?" asked Jesse, finishing the last plate. "You know you can count on me to take care of him for a few hours. Maybe try going to a pub. It's summer now, you should be able to rest a bit.
If (Y/n) was honest she sincerely couldn't remember the last time she went to a place that wasn't filled with toys or kids running around.
"I think you are right. I've been so caught up with work lately. My art shouldn't even be considered a work, you know?" she admits, sitting on the couch with her sister. "I love teaching and I love art, why is it so exhausting? And Cauã is the sweetest boy in the world but he sure is impatient. I bring him to work and he only complains about going home. But what should I do? Leave him home alone? Hell no.”
The words were spilling from (Y/n). She truly needed to talk about this because she was so tired of handling everything on her own, and her sister was always the one to make her say the things that needed to be said.
"What about this: I take Cauã next Saturday night for a sleepover and you got to The Spot? I've been there a few times and enjoyed it."
She really wanted a night out, even if she didn't particularly have anyone to go with her because she was a grown woman! She could enjoy her own company for the night.
"Hm, okay! I guess Saturday will do, Cauã's lessons end at 4 pm, so I have plenty of time to dress up, I can even wash my hair."
"Yeah! Good, maybe you can even get laid. It's also been some time, right?" joked Jesse. "The last time you dated someone was last year. I think you should give it a go."
John was the guy's name, they dated for 8 months and broke after he decided it was too much for him… Cauã was too much for him.
After he left, Cauã was so sad. He enjoyed the guy's company and that’s why (Y/n) wasn't going to date anybody until her son was older, they didn't need another person leaving them alone.
"Definitely not dating anyone," laughed (Y/n). "And not getting laid too, I have my hands, thank you very much."
"Alright alright, whatever you want," teased Jesse, getting her car keys, ready to leave.
"I will be here Saturday, just call me when you're ready. Me and bug are gonna have an amazing time."
"Bye, love you," she kissed (Y/n) cheeks, yelling goodbye to Cauã on her way to the door. The boy yelled back, saying he loved the aunt too.
And in a few moments, the little family was alone again, it's always been the two of them together. It was tiring but she wouldn't have it any other way.
It was already 10 pm, 30 minutes past Cauã's bad time, so she made her way to her room, where the little boy was watching tv.
"Come on baby, it's time – Oh god! You’re watching trailer park boys? What have I told you about those types of cartoons?" The boy was looking at her like a deer in the headlight. "Ok, it's over for you. Bed now. No more Netflix alone from now on."
"But mom." Whined the boy, jumping off his mom bed
"No, don't wanna hear a thing. Let's go to bed. You have surfing lessons tomorrow again. You need to be well-rested.”
With a hand on his bed, she guided him into his room, tucking Cauã to bed, making sure he didn't need anything.
"I love you, ok?"
"Ok mom. I love you too. I’m sorry."
"It's alright, just no more snooping around on my profile mister. You have your own for a reason. Now go to sleep. Close your eyes and–?" She waited for him to respond to their well-too-known sentence.
"–dream of the prettiest skies," he gave a big stretch, already closing his eyes.
When (Y/n) flipped the switch the room went dark, and she was alone again.
The next day (Y/n) followed with her promise. She was at the beach by 1:25. Even the teachers weren’t there yet, so she decided to do some drawing in the sketchbook she made sure to bring. Maybe the ocean and little seashells could help her bring out the art inside of her.
Cauã was also very happy because that meant time to play in the sand and build sandcastles. (Y/n) made sure to draw Cauã having fun, playing with little seashells.
The parents all began to show up. The first one was Miranda, Clara’s mom, a little girl with beautiful curls and tanned skin, who went to play with Cauã while her mom talked to (Y/n). Cauã decided that she was the warrior and he was the king of the sandcastle.
When it was 2 pm, everybody was ready to start the lessons. The parents were sitting at their usual spot and the two teachers had all the surfboards ready to go.
“Hi, little people. As we said yesterday, we are paddling,” said Harry, with a smile on his face as usual. “I’m gonna form 3 groups, 2 of you in each one, so this way Mrs. Mila and I can assist you guys better.”
“There won’t be any sharks there, right?” asked Penny, a red head two years older than Cauã. “I watched Jaws. They are big and eat people.”
All the kids looked up at Harry with a terrified face, waiting for what the teacher had to say.
“No kids, you don’t have to worry about that. We are only going on the shallow part.” The next part he said was in a lower tone, so Mrs. Mila, who was waxing the surfboards, wouldn't hear it. “And all the sharks would be scared if they saw Mrs. Mila. She’s quite scary, isn’t she?”
The kids only laughed, after each one pinky promising they wouldn’t say anything to the other teacher.
“Alright, let me make the groups. When I say your name, go and stand next to your mate. Group 1 is Penny and Nick, group 2 Jack and Malcolm, and last but not least group 3 with Clara and Cauã.”
The little surfers were all organized. (Y/n) made sure to notice the boyish smile on her son’s face when he was teamed up with Clara.
“Group 1, let's go. Grab your surfboard and go with Mrs. Mila.” Harry took his surfboard, guiding the children. “Nick, you are with me. Penny, you go with her.”
And with that they started their lessons, training how to swim while on the surfboard, how to stand up on it and safety rules they must learn while at the sea. The other kids were at the sand playing, waiting for their turn.
All the groups were making rounds of 15 minutes each, the first 4 kids were getting the hang of it, but when it was Cauã and Clara's turn, the two of them were a bit… bad.
(Y/n) would never say that to Cauã, but that boy seemed like he had no control over any of his balance. Damn, she should have put him on sports sooner.
Every time he would stand up on the surfboard he would fall, Harry was quick to catch him, putting him back again, encouraging Cauã to try again. She could sense the boy was becoming frustrated.
That became clear when the lessons were over and Cauã and Harry got off the sea. Harry was saying something to the boy who had teary eyes. (Y/n) could only understand it once she got closer to them, feeling worried about the boy.
“That’s completely normal, Cauã. When I started surfing I didn’t even know how to swim! But I learned and today I'm even competing in championships!” (Y/n) heard the teacher saying. He was kneeling on the sand to be the same height as Cauã.
“Hey, what happened?” asked (Y/n), popping down on her knees next to Harry, looking at her son. “Why are you upset, baby?”
“I couldn’t stand up, mommy.” A pout was on his face. “And everybody else did it. I’m not good at it. I don’t wanna surf anymore.”
Harry was ready to interfere when (Y/n) started speaking.
“Baby, listen to me. You can’t give up every time you don’t get things right.” Harry was looking at her with a side-eye. “Surfing is like drawing. When you do an ugly one you take out a new paper and try it again and again until you get the results you want,” she explained to the boy the best she could.
“If I had given up on surfing on my first attempts I wouldn’t even be here in California.” Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. “I see a lot of potential in you little man, and I hope you can see it too.”
Cauã only nodded, hugging (Y/n) by her hip.
“Thank you, Mr. Styles. I’ll make sure to talk to him at home. He’s just a bit upset now,” explained (Y/n), stroking Cauã’s hair. “Say bye, baby, we need to go home.”
Cauã said his goodbyes, staying quiet the whole way home. (Y/n) just hoped he would be thrilled about the lessons next week.
The week went by fast. (Y/n)’s inspiration was slowly coming back thanks to the beach. She realized going there for a few minutes every night was making her lines more dedicated, and their little trips also made Cauã excited about surfing again.
So Saturday came around (Y/n) and Cauã were two bubbly little things, the boy about the lessons and the mom about her first date night after a long time.
While (Y/n) was sketching and making small conversations with Miranda she noticed the kids and both teachers were coming back from the sea, she didn’t understand it though, it was only 3 pm, the class was supposed to end in 1 hour.
The explanation came shortly after.
“I’m sorry guys, but I have to go home earlier today. My husband got a call from work and I need to be there to take care of my daughter,” said Mrs. Mila. “We will of course make the next class tomorrow a bit longer. I’m sorry again.”
The parents made sure to say it was okay, which made the blonde woman more calm. Everybody said their goodbyes until only (Y/n), Cauã, and the teacher were standing in the warm sand.
“Mom! Did you see how I stood up!” bubbled the boy, smiling at her.
He really did, after a few tries, he learned how to pop up while in the water. He only lost his balance once! Harry also made sure to acknowledge that, giving Cauã a high five every attempt he got right.
“Of course I did, baby! I’m so proud of you,” (Y/n) told him, opening her bag to apply more sunscreen on his face. “Hey, mommy needs to finish this drawing, so we can stay a bit more.”
The boy smiles at her, running to the shallow part of the water, so (Y/n) decides to finish her drawing with the watercolors she brought before she could paint the first line, a shadow covering her from the warm sun.
"You two are staying?" Harry asked her, his surfboard not too far away from him. He looked intimidating standing in front of her. Why didn't he leave with the other?
(Y/n) looked up at him, eyes pinching in a questioning stare, also wondering why he was being nice. "Yeah, Cauã went to swing a little and the weather is nice.”
“Yeah, it’s really hot, so the water is really cold though,” said Harry sitting down next to her,
What was he doing?
She decided to be polite and answer him, not wanting to create an awkward silence. “ “It’s also good for art making,” she mumbled. “The beach makes me want to paint again.”
"Again? Don't you, like, do that for a living?” he asked.
Now that they were closer she noticed a small mole he had on his chin and the dimples that would appear on his cheek every time he said something.
Her hands started playing with her dress. Even though he wasn't being a jerk today it was weird having a whole conversation with him.
"Yes, I have a little art studio, but sometimes it's hard to actually draw something for myself when I have students wanting to learn different techniques all the time,” she said. "But tell me, Mr. Styles, do you also have these types of conversations with the other parents?" She was looking at him with a teasing smile on her face.
“I actually do not, Miss (Y/L/N),” answered Harry in the same teasing tone. “But I’m sorry for acting like an idiot last week. When I saw you were late I thought you were one of those parents who didn't really care about their child, but obviously it's not the case.”
“I get it. I also have a lot of parents treating my art classes as a daycare. Last week a dad picked their child up 2 hours after the class was over. The poor thing was so sad.”
“That’s the exact reason why me and Mila decided to make the parents’ presence mandatory. We have a lot of bad experiences with it.”
(Y/n)’s alarm went off, indicating it was time to go. Jesse was probably at her house waiting for her already. “I have to go now, Mr. Styles, but I hope you have a good evening,” she says, bowing her head.
Harry matched the energy by bowing his head as well, saying sarcastically, “It sure was a delight, my lady.”
The woman just laughed, calling Cauã and going home.
Maybe Harry wasn’t that bad.
“Jesse, I look ridiculous,” says (Y/n), looking back at her sister through the mirror. “I like dresses, but not ones that are this tight.”
She was already regretting agreeing to this night out, she didn’t even feel like herself in this piece of clothing! When (Y/n) was younger, she didn’t have the chance to attend parties, and when she reached the legal age to drink she had a 2-year-old baby to take care of.
“Babe, you look stunning. This dress is making your butt pop out!” Jesse tried to boost her confidence, standing behind her. “But we can try finding another thing if you want.”
(Y/n) really thought about it, but she had nothing else to wear. Her usual clothes were comfy ones. Summer dresses and overalls that people wore to go to the market or play dates, but (Y/n) wanted to look sexy.
Once you became a mother it was like who you are was erased, your whole persona would be based on having a child and being a mom. She wanted to feel like herself again. After her most recent break-up, feeling confident was hard, but she was determined to bring herself up again.
“No, this one looks fine. I just have to get used to it,” she explained, bending down to put on her high heels that weren’t even that high, but baby steps were key.
“Auntie, let’s go. The video rental shop is gonna close.” Cauã rushed into the room.
“Video rental shop?” (Y/n) laughs, directing her sarcastic question to Jesse. “You sure are a millennial. You know we have a Netflix account, right?”
“Oh shut up. I’m trying to give him some culture,” Jesse defended herself, wrapping her arms around Cauã. “You remember how dad would always take us to rent movies? It was the highlight of our weekend.”
(Y/n) smiled, thinking of the sweet memories of her dad. He was a great man. That’s why she named Cauã after him.
“It really was. Cauã sure is impatient to go, right baby? What movie are you picking?” (Y/n) asked. She was ready to go.
“Maybe Moana or The Lion King.”
“Good, baby! Now go pick your bag to bring to Jesse’s, alright?”
The boy went to his room, leaving the sisters alone in the yellow room.
“Are you ready? You’re taking an uber?” asked Jesse, applying another round of red lipstick on (Y/n).
“Yes, I don’t plan on getting drunk or anything, but it’s safer.”
After Cauã was back with his bag, (Y/n) called the car. When it arrived she said goodbye to her family, kissing them on the cheek and hoping they had a good night. She got into the car, telling him the location of the pub and in a few minutes, she was there.
(Y/n) was feeling anxious, but she was gonna have a good time, she would make sure of it. She was hot and beautiful. She was gonna be fine.
(Y/n) wasn’t fine at all.
30 minutes had passed and the only person who she had made conversation with was the bartender in front of her. The chat wasn't even pleasing, he was trying to make jokes and flirting with her.
The pub was playing country music because somebody was celebrating their birthday on the second floor and that was the kind of song they requested, so the dance floor was dead.
“Can you make another one of these, please?” asked the woman to the barman, indicating the watermelon cocktail. If the night wasn’t interesting she might as well drink before she went home.
(Y/n) was feeling very lonely at the place, a lot of couples were sharing fish and fries, friend groups were getting together, like the one on her side, it seems like they didn't see each other for a long time.
“Of course I can, doll," replied the bartender, the name on his tag was written in the ugliest handwriting she had ever seen, but she guessed it said ‘Tomas’. “It will be done in a second, just let me go to the kitchen, the watermelon slices are over.”
The man was probably not that good at his job if he didn’t plan ahead the right amount of fruit for each drink, he also left the bar without anyone supervising it. Maybe he wanted to be fired.
“Excuse me, did you see where the bartender went?” asked a voice behind (Y/n), she slowly turned around.
“- I saw him lea- Miss (Y/L/N)!" said Harry, smiling at her, an empty glass in his hand, it was weird to see him wearing a shirt instead of the usual surf suit. “ Hi! what are you doing here.”
“Um, hi!” She greeted him back, pointing at her empty glass. “Waiting for my drink, he said he was gonna go to the kitchen to get more watermelon.”
“Oh, you took the watermelon cocktail? The one with gin?”
“No, the vodka one actually.”
“Even better! Let me wait here with you, I also want a watermelon drink anyway” Harry looked around, searching for an empty stool that he quickly found on the end of the bar a few meters away. “I’ll be right back!”
(Y/n) just murmured in agreement, was he always that open with acquaintances he met at random pubs?
He smiled in her direction, bringing the tool to her side, but noticed the space between her and the group was too small. “Hey, can you go a bit to the side so I can talk to my friend here? Thanks!” he said, not even waiting for a response, putting the stool on the girl’s side and practically shoving the group to move to the right.
(Y/n) noticed the bad look the other people were giving him, but she just decided to ignore them the same way Harry did. sitting close to her, their knees almost touching
“Friends hum?” she questioned. “Friends don’t call each other by their last name.”
She knew she didn't really have to be so formal since they were at a pub but she wanted to tease him a little.
“I’m sorry about that, some parents don’t take my job seriously, that’s why I asked them to be formal and stuff,” laughed Harry. “It struck my ego too.”
“But we can call each other by our first name if that’s ok with you?” Continued him, tapping his fingers on the counter,
“Yes, we can, but only because we aren’t at the beach.” joked her. “I would never want to be in the way to hurt your ego.”
“Well, sweetheart, you are the one who calls me Mr.Styles the most, the other parents slip a ‘Harry’ here and there, so you would be the last one to wound my poor self-esteem.”
“ Well, Harry it doesn’t seem like you have a bad self esteem, you’re just a bit of a narcissist."
“You are not wrong about that," he laughed, nodding slightly while his other finger was playing with the glass. “Are you from California?”
“Yeah, born and raised.” Answered her. “ I’m from Sacramento actually, but when my sister Jesse moved here I decided to do it too, she helps me take care of Cauã.”
“So I must thank her that I got to meet you here today.”
(Y/n) laughed, feeling her cheeks get warm “Yeah, I guess so. But what about you? You sound very much British.”
“That’s because I am an angel,” he snickered.
Angel, that made the inside of her thighs contract, the word sounded wonderful coming from his lips.
“I moved here for University, I got into UCLA, graduated 7 years ago”
Seven years! That would make him 28/29 years old, she thought he would be around her age or younger. “What did you graduate in?”
After he could respond, the barman came back, the smile quickly falling from his face as soon as he saw Harry there. (Y/n) couldn’t care but compared the two men together, Tomas was so not beautiful. She had to admit, Harry was pretty and very attractive per say.
“You got lucky, huh, Mrs.,” he said, looking between you and Harry. “There were only some slices left, just enough for your drink.”
“OH good! And it’s Mis-”
“Thank you, Tomas, me and (Y/n) will share it, make sure to put a bit more sugar," said Hary before she could speak, putting his arms around her, (Y/n) went still, giving him a side-eye.
“Actually Tomas, don’t put sugar, just squeeze a bit of lemon in it, I like my drink sour.” She never agreed to share a drink with Harry!
“Ouch, didn’t know you had problems sharing.” A dramatic expression on his face.
(Y/n) took his arms off her shoulder once Tomas turned their back to them “I don’t, but it is indeed my drink, he went to the kitchen for me.”
When the man finished the drink he made sure to put it right in front of (Y/n), leaving quickly after being called on the other side of the bar by a small group of people.
“I’m sorry for putting my arms around you like that, I know Tomas, he is a jerk.” Apologized Harry, sincerity on his face. “He always hits on people, and not charmingly like me.”
“That’s what you’ve been doing all this time, hitting on me ‘charmingly’?” laughed (Y/n), taking a sip of her drink and offering it to Harry, who accepted it.
“Of course not! I’m talking to you as a friend, a very sweet one,” he said after he finished the drink, getting closer to her face “It’s a shame you don’t enjoy sweetness though.”
(Y/n) grinned, taking the glass from his hand and bringing it to her lips. “It is a pity, yeah.”
Harry’s eyes darkened, his hand suddenly went to her face, really close to her mouth. “You left a bit of the drink spill out love, gotta be careful.”
“You’re getting very bold, Harry,” whispers (Y/n).
She told herself over and over that she would not be hooking up with anyone, that tonight was only a chance for her to let go and try to be herself again, but then Harry happened, her son’s teacher.
Well, that little detail didn’t matter right now, maybe because of the drinks she had, the only thing she was sure of was that she wanted Harry.
Just for tonight, she thought to herself while creating the courage to ask him the question, just for tonight she could let it go, just for tonight, she could have the pretty and sweet man.
“Harry, do you wanna go to my house?” stuttered (Y/n), embarrassment filling her body as Harry’s brows were raised in surprise that was quickly replaced by a boyish smile.
“To your house, angel? For what?” he asked him mischievously, putting a hand on her knee.
“You know what Harry.” Damn, she was already regretting this.
“Yeah, I know," he said standing up from the stool, helping her out in the process. “Got everything?”
Was that a yes? “Uhum, I only brought this purse," he hummed in response, putting a hand on her waist guiding her to the payment place.
“Harry, did you agree to that? You weren’t very clear.”
She heard him laughing over her shoulder “Of course I agreed, how can I not when you are here, looking so cute in this dress.” His voice was getting deeper and lower. “And the best part is that I’m the one taking it off, right?”
(Y/n) ignored his last sentence. “You know this is only a hook-up, right?”
“I know, love, don’t stress over that," replied him with a smile.” “But I still enjoy being pampered.”
After a moment of quietness between them, Harry said, “I’m glad I’m going to yours, Kiara is at home and I-”
(Y/n)’s eyes went wide and she stopped walking
Wait, wait, wait.
Kiara? Who was Kiara? A fiance? a child?
“Harry please, for the love of God tell me Kiara isn’t your girlfriend," said (Y/n) angrily.
“What?! Of course not, She’s my dog!” he explained, looking hurt that she would think such a thing of him. “I just don’t want her looking at me differently. We would have to do the walk of shame and Kiara would be there, laying on her purple bed judging us.”
“You scared me, you idiot,” answered (Y/n), relieved.
“Would never do that love," he said sweetly, petting her back. “Now go wait outside while I pay, my car is the black range rover.”
“No, it’s ok, I can pay.” She was about to take her credit card off when Harry’s hand met hers.
“I might be an idiot but I am still a gentleman,” Smiled him. “Please, let me do it, I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
(Y/n) shrugged. “When I pay for the lessons at the end of this month, I will make sure to put in an extra 40 dollars.” And then she left, looking for Harry’s car, a smile on her face.
The decision to go out today was a good fucking one.
PART 2 IS ALREADY UP.
#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#surfer!H#Stepdad!H#Single mom!(Y/n)#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut
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Head Over Feet - Chapter 1
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairings:
Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader
Spencer Reid/Female Reader (Unrequited)
Word Count: 5,233
Chapters: 4/4 Complete
Tags: (Will be 18+, NSFW in future chapters) Unrequited Love, TW Suicide by cop
Summary: Falling in love with one of your two closest friends was never something you planned; it only makes sense that falling in love with the other would also come as a complete surprise. *Inspired by/in collaboration with @ssamorganhotchner.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Link to AO3 or read chapter 1 below!
It’s 3 AM—well, you are in a part of suburban Indiana where it’s 3 AM, but that makes it a Virginia 4 AM—and rain patters against the window behind your head as you slump over in your usual spot on the jet’s couch. You are exhausted, the whole team is exhausted, and you’ve just closed your eyes when a warm body presses against yours, thigh to shoulder, and there is a soft sigh in your ear.
“I shouldn’t make coffee. I shouldn’t make coffee, right?” Spencer murmurs, and you turn to look at him, can’t help the fondness that shapes your smile. His hair is untidy from running his hands through it, his eyes tired and rimmed red, and his headphones are dangling around his neck, just like always. He’s so close to you your noses are almost touching.
You return his sigh. So many things in life are unpredictable, but your partner, your closest friend, is always a constant.
“You absolutely should not make coffee,” you say, your voice quiet in the dim cabin. “We’ll be home in almost an hour, and then you’re going to go to bed.”
“At this point, wouldn’t it be better to just stay awake?” he asks with a groan, resting his head against the seat behind him, and you roll your eyes.
“I know the statistics, and if I do, then so do you. Being awake for 24 hours is equivalent to having a 0.10 percent BAC. There’s no way you’ll make it through the day without hurting yourself.” You hear a soft laugh from your right, and it’s Aaron; you hadn’t even realized he was paying attention. You raise your voice a little. “Plus, Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten.”
He glances over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised.
“Did I say that?” His lips curve up in a soft smile, and his expression is warm despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
“Don’t you remember? I said, ‘Hotch, you should let us come in at ten so we can get some extra sleep. I think it would really benefit the team.’ Then you said, ‘You know what, you’re right. Wow, you really are the smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.’” You smile brightly, fully aware you’re being silly; it surprises you when his smile falters a bit, nearly imperceptibly.
“Hmm. Now that you mention it, I do remember something like that. I’m a great boss for agreeing to it.”
“The absolute best,” you reply easily, and the two of you look at each other for just a moment before he turns back to his work and you turn back to Spencer. “So, like I said. Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten. You need to sleep.”
“It will be after 5:00 by the time we get to the office, more like 5:30. Ten minute wait for the forty-five minute train home means I’ll get there at 6:25—” You are not normally one to cut Spencer off when he gets talking, but this is sleep-deprived rambling, not an informational address, so you place a hand gently on his arm and he falls silent.
“So come stay at my place. I’m closer and you won’t have to wait for the train. We can get a few hours in and then stop at the coffee shop before we head to the office, okay?” The way he looks at you, soft, appreciative, makes it feel like you’re the only two people on the jet for a moment, and he wets his lips, nods.
“Okay. Thank you.” You smile.
“Of course. Maybe rest your eyes; if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you when we get there.” He turns on his music, leans against your shoulder, and takes your suggestion; it’s only a few minutes later that his breathing evens out, softens, and you try and fail to ignore the way that makes your heart ache in your chest.
When the plane lands and you’re grabbing your things, you come up behind Aaron, curl a hand around his arm just above his elbow. He turns to look at you, and he’s more worse for wear than you thought, so pale and tired up close.
“You’re going to go home and get some sleep, right?” All that changes is the set of his eyes, but that’s enough for you to know he has no intention of going home; you sigh. “Am I going to have to force you to come stay at my place too?”
It would be the first time he’s stayed over, where Spencer has crashed with you a handful of times; you are close with the both of them, but Aaron you spend more time with at lunch, or late nights eating dinner in his office, where Spencer comes over for movies or board games regularly. The dynamics of your friendships with them are so different, but both so good, so unexpected. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.
“That’s not necessary,” he says, doesn’t look like it’s a thought he wants to entertain. Maybe he thinks it’s crossing a line? Spencer will be there, so you don’t understand why he’d feel that way, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“I just want you to rest. It’s really no trouble, I have a guest room.” Spencer always opts for your long, overstuffed sectional sofa, so there’s more than enough room for Aaron to stay and get a few hours of sleep. He just shakes his head shortly.
“Thank you, but it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I appreciate your concern,” he says, and that’s clearly the end of the conversation. You just sigh, slide your hand off the back of his arm.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.” You walk away from him, over to where Spencer is waiting for you, and the two of you get into your car and head to your place.
By the time you get there, Spencer is basically a big, sleepy baby, and you have to carry both of your bags into your apartment and keep your arm around him so he doesn’t slump over. You lean him up against the wall while you unlock your door, then push him gently onto the couch while you grab pillows, blankets, and sheets.
He has clothes in his go bag to change into, but you don’t bother trying to wake him enough for that, just make up a bed for him and take off his shoes, maneuvering him into a somewhat comfortable position.
“Hmm. Thank you,” he mumbles when you cover him with a warm blanket, and he turns his head to kiss you softly on your cheek, then burrows his face into the pillow and falls asleep.
You walk into your bedroom, kick off your shoes, set an alarm, and flop down face first onto your bed.
Later that morning, you and Spencer bring coffee and breakfast pastries for everyone; you take Aaron’s coffee and a cherry danish and walk up to his office, knock on the doorframe with your elbow.
You are happy to see he looks a little better than when you left him, and he even softly smiles when he sees you standing there.
“Good morning again. Brought you a little pick-me-up.” You step into the room, set down the coffee and the napkin with the danish on it in the middle of his desk, then lean against it with one hand on the desk and the other hand on your hip. “You look decent.” He chuckles lightly.
“Somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment.”
“It’s not, it’s an, ‘I wish you would have gotten some rest instead of being stubborn, but I guess it turned out okay.’” He looks into your eyes for a moment, and you hold his gaze. “When someone wants to take care of you, Aaron, you should let them.”
He looks away first, down at the lid of his coffee cup, clears his throat.
“That’s not always possible, but I really do appreciate your concern.” He sounds crestfallen in a way you don’t quite understand, and you hate that he feels that he can’t accept help. You’d hoped he was over that kind of backward thinking.
“You can talk to me about anything. I thought we were close enough for you to know that.”
“We are,” he agrees, looking over at you. There is that same dejected set to his eyes, and it makes you hurt for him. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him like this, years, back when his divorce was still a fresh wound. “Sometimes that’s not always possible either, even if I might want to.”
“I won’t judge you, you know. I care about you.” You reach out to put your hand on his, a gentle, comforting touch. “There’s nothing you could say to me that would change that.”
You are interrupted by a knock at the door—it’s Spencer, with a mouth full of cinnamon roll. Aaron pulls his hand away abruptly like the two of you are doing something wrong, and you furrow your brow. Spencer doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t say anything.
“Hey, JJ said there might be a case. We’re meeting.”
“Another case?” You take a few steps away from the desk, cross your arms, give Aaron some space. “We just got back five hours ago.”
“Sounds like we should have gone straight there instead. Spree killer, five dead.” He ducks back out of the room, takes off down the hall, and you turn back to Aaron. He’s standing, smooths a hand down the front of his shirt, and you sigh.
“What are the odds I can convince you to take a power nap on the jet? 50:1?” He cracks a smile despite his earlier demeanor, takes the coffee you brought and passes you on his way to the door.
“I’d guess more like 75.” You roll your eyes, grab his danish, take a big bite, and then catch up to him and hand him the rest to finish.
The case takes you to Connecticut, where you are paired with Derek to take witness statements at the precinct. The local police know the identity of the killer, a forty year old man named John Jackson, and your team has predicted that he won’t stop until you find him, and that he will likely attempt to go down via suicide by cop when you do, so everyone is on edge.
After almost three hours of taking statements, you and Derek break for water and coffee, stand at the watercooler shaking your heads.
“This guy is unpredictable. There could be another five, ten bodies before we finally catch up to him,” Derek says, taking a long chug of water, and you cross your arms, lean back against the counter of the kitchenette.
“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. We’ve got roadblocks, right?” He nods.
“Every road in and out of town, with cops at all highway exits.” You vaguely remember the chief saying that, now that he mentions it; the hours are all starting to blend together, between the case and the lack of sleep, and your team is relying heavily on each other to fill in the gaps.
“Right. And helicopters.” You rub a hand slowly over your hair. “I hate these cases; it’s like the profile isn’t any good until you get to him, and by then it’s too late.” You check your watch, and it’s nearing rush hour, a good time to touch base with the team; you shoot Derek a glance, pull out your phone and gesture toward the hall, step out and dial Aaron.
When he answers, he sounds tense, so you don’t bother with pleasantries.
“Hey, just checking in. Derek and I are about done here; where do you need us?”
“There’s a checkpoint on I-95, mile marker 48; we have a few officers manning it, but we could use a car here, so if you two head there you can send one of them our way.”
“Got it: I-95, mile marker 48,” you repeat as Derek joins you in the hall. “Send a car your way.”
“Yes. Be careful,” he says almost like it’s an afterthought, and you shake your head lightly—as if you are careless any other time.
“We will, you too. Bye.” You end the call, lock your phone, raise an eyebrow in Derek’s direction. “Want me to drive?”
“Oh, and put my life in the hands of Speed Racer?” He takes the keys out of his pocket, holds them out like he’s handing them to you, then pulls them away.
“I've taken several defensive driving courses; I’m probably a better driver than you.” He holds them out again and you snatch them out of his hand. “And sometimes you have to be fast.”
That statement proves true when you are on your way to mile marker 48 and Derek spots the car the unsub was last seen driving. He confirms the plate number, confirms it again, just because your brains are kind of mush, and then you share a look and slam your foot on the gas.
Thank god for all those defensive driving courses.
“Hotch,” Morgan barks into his phone a few seconds later, “we’ve got eyes on the suspect. He’s headed northbound on I-95—we just passed marker 44. We’re in pursuit.” The unsub weaves in and out of traffic, a chorus of colorful language and horns blaring in his wake, and you do your best to keep up while maintaining a safe distance from other cars.
The chase goes on for several miles, and there seems to be no end in sight until you can eventually make out the red glow of the car’s brake lights from across the highway. It’s both a good and bad sign, one you were prepared for.
“He’s gonna bail, Derek.” You cut across several lanes of traffic to make your way to the side of the road, so you can pull off as close to him as possible. “We have to try to talk him down. Think he’ll listen to me?” The whole rampage was triggered by the anniversary of the man’s wife’s death, and you look similar enough that it’s a good possibility. Derek agrees.
“Worth a shot. Just keep your damn gun drawn,” he says, and you huff. You’re pretty sure every member of the team has used the ‘weapons down’ tactic on multiple occasions, but somehow only you and Spencer are always reminded of it.
“I will, but if he wants me to kill him, I’m not going to make it easy.” The unsub goes several hundred feet farther before pulling over, and you follow behind, turn on your four-ways, jump out of the car. Derek covers you, and you approach the vehicle slowly, gun drawn. “John Jackson. Leave your weapon on the seat and exit the vehicle with your hands up.”
The door opens, and you see one empty hand, but he still clutches a pistol in the other. Derek looks over at you, but you don’t dare take your eyes off of John.
“John. Put the gun down. I know you feel hopeless right now, like there’s no way out of this situation, but I promise you there is a way. I’m here to help you.” For the first time, he looks over at you, and you can see the pain in his gaze; it’s clear the man is broken, eyes sunken deeply in despair. He raises the gun—doesn’t point it at you, just raises it into the air.
“You can’t help me. No one can. She’s gone, and I’m left here—in pieces.” The last word is a sob, and you swallow hard, take a step closer.
“I know how much Kathleen meant to you, John, and I’m sorry for your loss. So sorry. But you know this isn’t how she would have wanted things to turn out for you; you know that, right? She loved you.”
“It wasn’t enough, in the end.” He wipes his forearm across his eyes, and Derek tenses, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but that’s the only move John makes. “She took everything with her and left me empty.”
“It doesn’t have to feel like that forever. I promise you.” You take another step forward, hand outstretched. “If you just set the gun on the ground, I’ll come over and put you in some handcuffs. We’ll have to go to the police station first, but then we’re going to get you help. You’ll feel better.”
John says nothing for several seconds; you are so aware of yourself, your surroundings, that you feel each breath you take as if your body is moving in slow motion. You can see Derek tense again, just slightly; you can hear the sound of another car pulling up behind yours, of doors opening and closing, of shoes on pavement and guns drawn.
“John.” He sighs, presses his lips together, shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to feel better. I want to feel nothing.” He points his gun at you, and you don’t have another choice. If it’s not you, it will be someone else on your team.
He made his choice; you make your non-choice and pull the trigger.
You run to his side when he falls, and so does Derek: no pulse. You’re a good shot. It doesn’t feel like something to be proud of right now. You stand, and so does Derek; he reaches out a hand, places it on your shoulder.
“You tried, you know?” His voice is low, a little rough, and you nod your head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“Thanks.” You don’t say you won’t, can’t guarantee that. The two of you turn around, face the others, and you inhale deeply, exhale deeply, shake your head. Aaron and Spencer both come forward, and you’re a little torn, not sure whose eyes to seek for reassurance, whose words to seek for comfort.
Spencer makes the decision for you, jogs toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders, wraps his arms around you in a hug. You hold him close, rest your head against his arm, and look behind him, at Aaron, who seems more affected than you would have thought. You want to pull him in too, but he is not the public display of affection type, so you let Spencer be enough.
After a few minutes, local law enforcement arrives on the scene, as well as the coroner, and Spencer ushers you into an SUV so you can head back to the precinct.
That night, you are not just tired, but weary, when you make it home. You strip off your clothes and take a quick shower in hopes it will make you feel a little better, then pull on a short, fleece robe and pad to the kitchen to make a cup of herbal tea. You’re just throwing out the tea bag when there’s a knock at the door, and you take your mug with you to answer it.
You aren’t surprised that it’s Aaron on the other side.
“Hi.” Your voice sounds weak to your own ears, but he just nods, takes in your robe and mug of tea, offers his own greeting. “Do you want to come in?” You take a step back and he walks past you into the living room, sits down beside you when you curl up on the sofa. You face him, your shoulder against the back of the couch, your hands in your lap, holding your tea, and he mirrors your posture.
“I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I know what happened today was difficult for you.” The expression on his face is careful, guarded, but concerned. “How are you doing?”
You reach forward to set your tea on a coaster on the table, scooting a little closer.
“I’m doing alright.” He looks skeptical, stares you down with serious eyes, and you sigh, give in to his silence. You’re not one to easily fold under pressure, but when Aaron is the one applying it, it’s difficult not to. “It’s never easy to kill someone, but… it’s just a little harder when it's someone who clearly needed help, something we could have given him. It’s harder when we’re just too late.”
“I can understand that. Things could have gone so differently if he’d gotten help when he needed it. Maybe no one would have gotten hurt.” He reaches out a hand to carefully cover yours in your lap, looks at you with tender eyes. “Try not to focus on the maybe, okay? Life is hard enough without beating yourself up for something out of your control.”
You nod your head, blink back tears, and lean forward, resting your cheek against his shoulder; he puts his arm around your back and holds you tightly, allows you your moment, and when you begin to pull away he reaches for your tea, takes a sip.
“Minty,” he says, then hands you the mug, and you smile softly, take a sip too.
“It’s Sleepytime tea. Helps me wind down before bed.” It’s not until you say it that it dawns on you—how late it is, that he’s here anyway after almost two days with no sleep. “Let me make you a cup and then put you up in the guest room. Please,” you murmur when he looks like he’s going to decline. “It would make me feel a lot better about today. Just knowing you’re nearby.”
“Are you trying to guilt trip me?” he asks, arching a brow, and you shake your head quickly, reach for his hand again.
“No, no. Of course not. I just know you’re tired, and it would be nice to have a friend close tonight.” You squeeze his fingers, your hand warm from the tea, take a deep breath. “Stay?”
“I’ll go get my bag out of the car,” he says eventually, and you can’t help smiling.
“Okay. I’ll make you some tea.”
The next couple of months are fairly commonplace, with cases dotted here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing like those few sleepless days.
You have dinner with Aaron in his office a couple times a week, and it’s always comforting and enjoyable, that easy companionship. You spend time with Spencer at one of your apartments a couple evenings a week, and that’s where things get complicated.
He’s one of your closest friends in the world, one of two people you would do anything for, drop everything for at a moment's notice. As it turns out, he may also be more than that.
You’ve noticed for a while that you tend to gravitate toward him, that you’re drawn to him when he’s speaking, like an invisible magnetic pull. That you can’t help staring at his lips when he talks, his hands when he adds gestures, the serious look of contemplation on his face when he debates his next move as you play chess.
It feels innocent, mostly, until one day he leans over your shoulder to speak into your ear while you’re getting snacks in the kitchen, and you feel your face heat, your heart pound in your chest. He lays a hand on your back, which is not unusual, but he may as well be putting it down your pants for the way it makes you feel in that moment.
You open your mouth to say something, but ultimately you stop yourself. What would you even say? I think I might be in love with you? I think I want you? I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship? Anything of those things would be the wrong thing, so you just push it to the back of your mind and do your best to let it go.
“Are you feeling okay?” Spencer asks one day while you’re pouring coffee in the breakroom, and rightfully so, because you’ve been avoiding him like he’s contagious for the better part of a week. He looks especially cute today, and he’s in a great mood, smiling and laughing at everything Derek and Emily say, and it’s too much for you to handle. You’re just proud of yourself for not saying something embarrassing.
“I’m okay,” you assure him with a light smile you don’t feel. “I’m just a little off today; I’m sure it will pass. Thanks, though.” You fill his mug, and he smiles back, nods.
“Of course. We can skip movie night tonight, if you’re not feeling up to it. I think we’ve both probably seen An American Werewolf in London enough times that we could recite it line for line anyway.” You have to laugh at that, because it’s true; it’s one of your favorites, always so easy to poke fun at that the two of you dissolve into giggles half an hour in.
“You’re definitely right about that. Yeah, let’s cancel for tonight. I’ll go to bed early, get some rest, be good as new tomorrow. Thanks for understanding,” you murmur, turning to look up at him, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.
“You’re welcome. I just hope you feel better soon.”
You hope you figure out what to do soon, too.
You’re getting ready to leave work later that night, shortly after everyone else has gone, when Aaron steps up beside you, clears his throat.
“Do you have plans for tonight? I was just about to order dinner.” You sigh, run a hand over your hair.
“Um. I was supposed to watch movies with Spencer, but I cancelled on him.” His gaze sweeps over you like he’s looking for signs of distress, eyes gentle but appraising.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes and no.” You immediately regret saying that, because it puts him on alert and you aren’t really in the mood to discuss it. “Yes—everything’s alright. I’d love dinner, if you don’t mind the company. And it’s my turn to pay.” You take out your wallet, shove the rest of your bag back under your desk, turn to look up at him. He’s still staring at you like he’s trying to assess your emotional state, and you exhale softly. “Can we just… eat and talk about Jack?”
It takes him a moment, but he nods, pulls out his phone. It’s nonchalant, just quiet acceptance of your terms; his eyes are kind when he looks back over at you.
“I have pictures of him from his last soccer game.” You feel almost overwhelmed with relief, lean against his arm to look at the photos of Jack and his friends in their uniforms, laughing and happy on the field. “Do you want tacos?” he asks, low, after a moment, and you nod your head and smile softly up at him.
“Yeah, but it’s Friday. Why don’t we just go eat? Work can wait until Monday.” It’s a suggestion you’ve made many times before, but this time, to your surprise, he agrees; you grab your bag, and he drives you to the restaurant where you have a margarita, and too many tacos, and so many laughs it’s like he’s almost a different person. He drops you off at your car afterward, and you lean across the seat for a hug, thank him again for taking you out—because, of course, he insisted on paying the bill even though it was your turn. It’s a better evening than you’ve had in the last few weeks.
You mess that up severely by going home and watching An American Werewolf in London anyway, and afterward you lay in bed, try to fall asleep, and think about what you’re going to do about Spencer. It’s almost midnight when you have the dumb idea to go see him—and it’s pouring, which makes it even dumber.
You text him to see if he’s still awake, and he doesn’t answer, but when you park you can see that his bedroom light is on, so you buzz anyway. He lets you up, clearly confused as to what you’re doing there so late; so are you, to be honest, but for some reason it finally felt like the right time to lay it all out on the line. When he opens the door, he looks even more taken aback than he sounded.
“Are you okay? It’s after midnight, and you’re soaked,” he says, pulling you inside and closing the door, and you shake your head.
“No, not really. I’m sorry for springing this on you, Spence, I really am.” You take a deep breath, try to calm yourself; your heart is racing. “I think I love you. You were the first person I clicked with when I started at the BAU, and it has become a genuine friendship that I treasure, but lately I’ve been feeling… more.” He wets his lips, frowns.
“I don’t think now is the right—” A slightly unhinged laugh escapes you, and it stops him mid-sentence.
“I know it’s not the right time, but I don’t think there will ever be a right time, so I’m just… just putting it out there, okay? I think I love you. I can see myself with you, I—I think we could be good together. And I know this is sudden…” you trail off when you see movement behind him; you lean to the side to peer around him, but he blocks you with his body. “Is someone here?”
“I tried to tell you it’s not a good time,” he says, and he sounds apologetic and maybe a little embarrassed on your behalf. You swallow hard.
“Who’s—who’s here? Is it someone I know?” He shakes his head, and you exhale a ragged breath. That’s a small miracle, at least, that you didn’t just spew a love confession in front of one of your friends—well, two of your friends. “I should go. I need to go—I’m sorry.” You back up, but you bump into the door noisily; you forgot he’d closed it behind you. Someone comes into the hall to check on the sound, and of course, it’s a beautiful woman wearing one of Spencer’s sweaters and not much else. She is your opposite in every way, and that makes it hurt so much worse.
You really never stood a chance.
“Spencer? Is everything okay?” she asks, arms crossed over her chest, and you fumble for the doorknob, wrench the door open, and take off down the hall.
You run for your car—the rain has only gotten heavier, and if you were soaked before, you’re downright sodden now, your clothes soaked through—and you tug on the door handle, but it doesn’t budge: locked, of course. You pat your pockets for your keys, but by the time you find them, the small surge of adrenaline you felt has left your body, and all you feel is heartbreak.
You rest your arms against the window, your head against your arms, and take several deep, gasping breaths; tears follow, burning hot, streaming down your face, and for a few moments you just let them, let yourself ache with embarrassment and bitterness until it physically hurts to continue.
You exhale softly, wipe your face with your wet sleeve as if that fixes the problem, and then unlock your car and head to the only place—the only person—you can think of with your head so messed up.
Taglist 🤍: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#hotch x female reader#hotch x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x reader#head over feet
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Could you maybe do that part 5 of truth or drink you alluded to?? :) with Jules and the lupins and basically Jules spilling ALLL of re’s secrets & Marley loving it 🥰
Oh, Jules, how I missed you. The truth or drink referenced in this ask is here (it's been an age since I did one, wow!) and SW credit of course goes to @lumosinlove!
“Please can we have alcohol?” Jules swung his legs under the table with wide, pleading eyes.
Marlene barked a laugh. “Over my dead body, baby Loops.”
“It would be,” Remus agreed with a teasing grin.
“Welcome back to Lion Pride, both of you,” she said, ruffling their hair. Both scrunched their faces up in identical expressions of displeasure. “There are fifteen cards in your deck, and if you don’t want to answer the question, you have to take a drink of apple juice. Not alcohol.”
“You used to be cool,” Jules sulked. Marlene rolled her eyes and Remus reached over to flick his ear. “Hey, that hurt!”
“No, it did not.”
“I’m gonna tell mom you hit me.”
Remus turned to Marlene with a long-suffering look. “Can I have alcohol?”
“Get crackin’, boys, the world wants to know your secrets.” She tapped the deck of cards with a wink and wandered behind the cameras again.
“Alright, here we go.” Remus sighed. “My name is Remus Lupin, I’m the Lions’ right wing, and I’m here with my baby brother to answer some questions. Take it away, Jules.”
“I’m not a baby,” Jules clarified to the camera. “I’m twelve. Who’s the most attractive sibling?”
Remus frowned. “Me? Just ‘cause I’m older.”
“As if.”
“Oh my god,” he muttered, reaching for his own card. “Oh, this should be fun. Name your favorite parent.”
“Dad,” Jules answered without hesitating. Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“First, you’re not supposed to answer that fast, and second, what?”
“Dad’s cool!”
“Dad is not cool!” Remus laughed. “I don’t have a favorite parent—”
“Liar.”
“—but mom is the cool one. Dad’s a dork, and we love him for it.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Mom would literally do anything for you. She learned to skate for you.”
“It’s not like I don’t love mom!” Jules protested as he took a new card. “I love her so much! And I know mom is your favorite, so it’s only fair. Which of us is the most successful, and which is the screwup?”
“I don’t have a favorite parent,” Remus insisted, leaning back in his seat. “And neither of us are screwups.”
“You’re more successful.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re a screwup. It means you’re twelve. Who’s the overachiever?”
“You,” Jules snorted. “You’re such a nerd. It’s embarrassing. What’s the meanest thing I did to you when we were kids?”
Remus rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment, then turned to look behind the camera. “Since we were only kids together for, like, three years, can I say something from a little later?”
“Anything before age 25,” Marlene called.
He nodded decisively. “Sweet. In that case, it’s the time this little monster let a rat into the house, freaked out when he didn’t know what to do, then locked it in my bedroom and didn’t tell anyone until I went to bed and something ran across my sheets.”
Jules shrugged. “You survived.”
“Yeah, and you almost didn’t.”
“So dramatic,” he muttered.
Remus whacked him over the head with the next card before reading it. “Oh, god. Share the most mortifying memory you have of me. If you drink that apple juice and don’t answer, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”
Jules leaned back with a hum, already grinning. “Let’s see…”
“No,” Remus groaned.
“Probably—” Jules broke off to giggle. “Probably when you took me into the locker room to meet the team and the whole time I was talking to Sirius, you looked like you were about to melt into the floor. You had this stupid grin on your face—”
“Shut up.”
“—and almost tripped over your own feet, like, four times. This was before you guys were dating, too.”
“You are the worst,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms. “Next question?”
“I can keep going. There was the time you gave yourself a black eye hanging Christmas lights, and when you bounced off an enforcer when you tried to check him, and when mom asked you to defrost the chicken for dinner and you forgot so you put it in the microwave and almost set the house on fire, and—“
“Marlene.” Remus raised his head with a pitiful look. “Please make him stop. Please.”
“Okay,” Marlene laughed, a little breathless. “Alright, one sec. Jules, your turn.”
“Ugh, fine. Do you let me win at things?”
“When you were five, sure.” Remus tilted his head to the side. “Otherwise, no. Do you want me to let you win?”
“I’d be so upset if you did. I only get better because I want to kick your ass one day.”
“Language. Am I a good brother?”
“Well, yeah,” Jules said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at Remus, clearly confused. “Duh. You’re weird and annoying, but you’re one of my top three favorite people?”
“Before or after dad?” Remus teased, but it was soft with fondness.
Jules narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Have I ever disappointed you?”
“Never. I don’t think you could if you tried. Who’s smarter?”
“Me.” Remus gave the camera a disbelieving look as Jules took a new card. “Ha! I like this one. Which of us was a mistake?”
“Oh, that is a good one. Honestly, I don’t think either of us were planned. Mom and dad definitely weren’t expecting a kid at 21 and 25, and absolutely weren’t planning on another one fifteen years later.”
Jules cast the camera a bright smile. “Oops!”
“But we’re their best mistakes,” Remus said solemnly with the ghost of a smile, as if he was repeating a sentiment that had been said many times before. “Okay, I need to have a talk with whoever set up these questions. Do an impersonation of me, or drink to—”
“Oh, look at me, I’ve got a fancy degree,” Jules mimicked, dropping his voice comically low. “I’m so cool, I’ve got a secret boyfriend and I’m not gonna tell anyone about it for three whole months even though I suck at keeping secrets. I’m tall, so I’m gonna grab my awesome little brother by the ankles and shake him around—”
“You asked me to—”
“Shh! I’m not done!”
Remus gave him an incredulous look. “They get the point!”
Jules stuck his tongue out, but grabbed a new card from the stack. “What are your best and worst memories of mom and dad?”
“Aw, man.” Remus tapped his short stack of cards on the table and bit his lip. “Best and worst…best would probably be Christmas two or three years ago, when we all went skating on the lake.”
“That’s a good one,” Jules mused.
“It’s hard to think of my worst memory of them. Um, maybe after I stopped playing hockey in college? There was a lot of walking on eggshells and it was really uncomfortable.”
Remus read the next card and his frown dissolved into laughter; he reached for the apple juice and filled both glasses to the brim, then pushed them across the table to Jules without a word. “What are these for? You have to read the card, dummy.”
“The most spoiled sibling has to drink,” Remus said with a wide grin.
“It’s not me!” Jules protested, though it was weak. “You were an only child for fifteen years!”
“Yeah, and?” His amusement only grew as Jules struggled to make a comeback. “See, you can’t even deny it! You’re the baby of the family and everybody loves you. How many times have you been to Gryffindor?”
Jules opened and closed his mouth a few times, going red with indignance.
“How many?” Remus’ expression was pure glee. “Buddy, I didn’t leave Wisconsin for anything other than roadies until you were old enough to travel, and then mom and dad had to show you off to everyone.”
“They love you, too!”
“I know they do,” Remus laughed. “They’re great parents and we both had amazing childhoods. You’re still the more spoiled one.”
“I don’t like this game,” he muttered as he drank one of the glasses. “And I’m not drinking that other one. Okay, last question. Should we see more of each other?”
“Of course,” Remus said. “I wish we lived closer to each other all the time. Do you think so?”
Jules reached for the glass, then burst out laughing when Remus’ jaw dropped. “Oh, I got you so good! But yeah, I miss you a ton during the school year.”
“You little…” Remus bit back his threat and ruffled Jules’ hair despite his protests, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Keep that up and you’re gonna get flipped again.”
“You wouldn’t. Not on camera.”
“Try me.”
Jules bolted from his seat and tried to make a run for it, but Remus was faster—he caught him around the waist, hefted him under one arm, and turned him around until he could get ahold of his skinny ankles. “No!” Jules shrieked through his giggling as Remus started swinging him lightly back and forth. “No, no, put me down!”
“Just making sure you really don’t want to see more of me,” Remus said, alight with happiness. Jules’ fingers nearly touched the ground. “You’re almost too big for this.”
“Good,” Jules wheezed. “Are we done yet?”
Remus looked back to the camera. “Thanks for tuning into Lion Pride, everyone. Make sure to like and subscribe if you want a slow-motion tutorial on how to transform your little brother into an emergency pendulum.”
“No!”
“Can you get down by yourself?”
Jules stretched his arms toward the floor, but Remus pulled him up an inch just as his fingertips brushed the tile. “Hey! Stop it!”
“Stop what?”
“Pulling me up!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said, adding another inch.
#remus lupin#julian lupin#jules#coops#marlene mckinnon#lion pride#my fic#fanfic#sweater weather#vaincre#lumosinlove#social media#truth or drink
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On the Count of Three
A/n: This isn't edited but when is any of my shit ever edited
Description: Rafe and the reader want to go to the beach but Barry wants to spend time with them at home. They compromise by going to the beach.
Prompt: Rafe and Barry + Holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together
Warnings: Rafe x Reader, Barry x Reader, Rafe x Barry, fluff, Barry is a homebody, recreational cliff jumping, sass
~~
Today is possibly the nicest day you guys have had all year, weather-wise at least. It is sunny, not a cloud in the sky but still a comfortable 70 degrees thanks to the wind. Everyone is in a good mood, and having a blast at the beach. People took the day off from work, and even metaphorically from being a pogue or a kook or a touron so they could all share the beaches on such a nice day.
All of this doesn’t explain why you, Rafe and Barry are still at his trailer, cooped up inside.
“Come on, Barry, you’ll love it I promise.” Rafe pleads, coming up behind his partner to hug him as he pops open the beer he had just retrieved from the fridge.
Barry pulls out of Rafe’s arms, shaking his head. “No, I’m not going to the damn beach. Why would I choose to be around a bunch of idiots getting sand in places where sand don’t belong when I could be here: happy and sandless with you two?”
“Y/n, can I get some help here?” He asks, plopping down onto the couch with a huff.
Rafe and Barry both turn to look at you expectantly. “Well…” You think on it… “I know a special part of the beach that I’ve never seen anyone else at. It’s secluded, lots of shade and no one will bother us.” You reach out, taking Barry’s hand in yours and running your thumb over the back of his hand.
He looks between you and Rafe before sighing. “Fine.” He gives in and Rafe’s whiney expression turns triumphant.
Barry drags his feet through getting the bags together, and when You go down your mental checklist, naming things out loud for him to check for, he only responds in half-hearted grunts. He drags his feet getting out of the car and then drags his feet all the way to the secret spot you were talking about, barely saying 5 words the whole time.
The three of you break through the small amount of underbrush you have to trek through to reach the spot and then you’re greeted by a stunning view of the clear blue sky meeting the shinning ocean horizon. The spot itself is a decent sized clearing on a small cliff maybe 30 feet above the water. There’s a small rocky pathway to the left side that’s maybe a one minute trek that can be used as stairs to a small sandy beach area.
You glance over to Barry, smiling to yourself when you see his reaction to the beautiful area.
“What do you think?” You ask, setting down your tote bag as you turn to face him.
His eyes snap to you as he schools his expression, probably hoping you didn’t see how impressed he was. “It’s alright.” He grumbles, tossing his bag down next to yours.
You pull the blanket from your bag, setting it on the ground as Rafe strips off his shirt, and begins the trek down to the beach.
“Where’s he going?” Barry asks, stretching out his neck in an attempt to get a better look without moving.
“There’s a little path that way,” You explain. “It leads to the beach area I was telling you about. You finish setting up the blanket and pull out the sunscreen. Even if Rafe is crazy enough to not wear sunscreen you’re not. “Will you be swimming with us?”
You know he had changed into swimming trunks and brought a change of shorts, or rather Rafe had forced him to, but you didn’t know if he was actually willing to swim with you guys. Barry thinks on it quietly as he watches you rub the sunscreen into your skin. When it’s time for you to do your back he walks over and takes the sunscreen from you without you even having to ask.
His rough hands gently massage the sunscreen into your skin, the both of you quiet until he finally says, “Yeah, I guess I will.”
With a gleeful smile you whip around, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.” You giggle, and then you quickly begin to apply the sunscreen to him before you drag him down the pathway.
The two of you meet Rafe there, who’s already waist-deep in the water. He turns when he sees you coming, smiling as he sees you dragging Barry behind you.
“Decided to join us, Barry?”
“Shut up, country club,” he grumbles just loud enough for Rafe to hear him. He hesitates at the water’s edge, glancing out towards the horizon then back at his partners.
“Don’t worry, you’re as far from made of sugar as someone can get. The water won’t melt you.” Rafe teases, a playful smirk blossoming on his face as Barry immediately gets a disgruntled look on his face.
“Alright, that’s it pretty boy, I’m gonna kick yo’ ass.” And with that Barry storms into the water after Rafe.
Maybe 40 minutes later the three of you pull yourselves back up to the cliffside, all smiles and loose limbs as you collapse on the blanket with tired sighs.
“You have to admit, that was a lot of fun.” You say to Barry as you grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. He rolls his eyes, not agreeing or disagreeing with what you said.
Rafe sits up on his elbows so he can see Barry from where he lays on your opposite side. “And to think none of this would have happened if we had sat on our asses in your trailer like you wanted.”
Barry turns to glare at Rafe, but the tall boy’s attention is already caught on something else. He stares towards the cliff’s edge as his expression slowly turns from teasing to scheming.
“Rafe… whatcha thinking about?” You ask, curious but also nervous. Most of his schemes end very, very badly.
“I want to jump off the cliff.” He states, then keeps to his feet with surprising ease.
You quickly stand after him, catching up only to grab his wrist and pull him back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, baby…” You murmur, looking out at the water nervously.
“Babe.” He pulls you a couple steps forward, then motions down to the water at the edge of the cliff, “It’s maybe 25 feet, 30 if we’re pushing it. There's no rocks at the bottom, I would have noticed that when we were swimming.” He then takes both your hands in his, pulling you close to him till your chests are brushing and he can wrap his arms around your middle. “Jump with me,” He whispers sweetly, leaning over to brush his lips against yours seductively. Oh boy, are you really contemplating jumping off a cliff with this boy just because he asked nicely? Yes. Yes you are.
“Uh uh. Nope.” Barry pushes himself to his feet, shaking his head as he does. “Not happenin’.”
“Come one, Barry-” Rafe tries the same tactic on him, pulling him in and leaning down to brush a kiss to his lips but Barry simply leans back and shakes his head again.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy, baby boy, ain’t no way I’m lettin’ either of you jump off that damn cliff. Not a way in hell.”
“It’s completely safe.” Rafe tries to reason, “there’s no rocks at the bottom, we all know how to swim, it’s barely even 30 feet. We’ll be fine.” When Barry still doesn’t budge Rafe tries a different tactic. “Why don’t you come with us? It’ll be fun…” Rafe slides his hand from the middle of Barry’s back down to teasingly cup his ass, “Get the blood pumping. He murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. Barry ducks away again, shaking his head, though his movements are slower and more hesitant this time.
Rafe turns his puppy eyes on you, obviously expecting you to back him up.
You bite your lip, looking between your two partners. Rafe is set on this, you can tell by the stubborn look in his eyes, and Barry is already visibly bending to Rafe’s will. You don’t doubt Rafe’s hand still palming Barry’s ass cheek is helping with that.
With a small sigh and a glance over your shoulder and down at the water you say, “Rafe is right, Bear. It's only 30 feet. It will be fun."
Barry stares at you like you grew two heads, then slowly his shoulders slump and he lets out a groan. "Damnit," he mutters, pulling out of Rafe's arms.
"Fine. Fine, I'll fuckin' jump." He huffs, beginning to mutter under his breath, "Fuckin' crazy, ya' both are."
Rafe and you stand next to each other, facing the water, and with one last unintelligible grumble, he joins you. You wonder if Rafe is going to count to 3, or just jump, when suddenly you feel two warm hands grab ahold of your own at the same time. Rafe's hand is slightly larger, smoother, while Barry's is rough and holds onto your hand like you'll die if he doesn't.
"Alright." Rafe finally says, sounding slightly out of breath already. "On 3? One… two… three."
And then he's jumping, and so are you, pulling Barry down with you guys. Only a few seconds later you connect with the water, letting go of their hands on instinct so you can swim back to the top. You break the surface, inhaling the air deeply as you search for your partners. Rafe surfaces, then Barry, and you smile widely as you make eye contact with the both of them. A bout of giddy adrenaline rips a giggle from your throat and then all three of you are laughing as you hold yourself afloat in the water. The three of you swim the short distance to the beach.
"You two are fuckin' crazy," Barry chuckles, shaking his head with a fond look in his eyes. "You're fuckin' crazy people."
"We're your crazy people," Rafe states with a lopsided smirk, shaking the water from his hair.
Barry snorts. "You're somethin' alright."
#barry x y/n#barry x reader#barafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fluff#rafe#rafe cameron x gn!reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#obx rafe#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#obx barry#barry obx#outer banks#obx#barry x rafe#rafe cameron x barry#barry outer banks#barry drabble#barry fic#barry imagine
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Sidewalk Chalk
Pairing: Basketball Player! Yoongi x reader (non-idol! au, childhood friends to lovers! au)
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Summary: As a child you had always loved to play in the park. Loud and obnoxious you made an array of friends, but you soon discovered that the lonely boy sitting on a swing on the playground is much more fun to draw with. Bonding over chalk drawings in the heat of the summer, little did you know that he would become your rock for many summers to follow.
Word count: 9k
rating : g
A/N: This is square 7/25 for the @bangtanwritingbingo (Square: Chalk Drawings). Thank you @min-yoon-kween and @sunshinejunghoseokie for trying even when the house was burning i appreciate you guys so much. I am also really grateful to my best friend who told me off for my general writing mistakes and for keeping me together.
A massive massive massive thank you to the amazing @ttaetae for her amazing skills of pulling a crappy banner i made and making it a masterpiece. You have saved me!
I have not written so much fluff, but it was needed after all the angst and all the angst that will follow after this.
Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for the work
As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3
The sound of the birds chirping in the early hours of the morning, as you walked through the park, was the perfect soundtrack to your day. Smiling softly to yourself, you took a deep breath in, savouring the scent of the late summer blooms. Your feet carried you slowly towards your destination. You were in no rush. Today time was just a concept, and you would make the most of it. You caught yourself checking the clock multiple times before you left the house and decided that you would leave your watch at home. Today was your day. Nothing would ruin it, not even the rain forecast for later in the day. The sound of children laughing was a telltale sign that you were quickly approaching your destination. Excitedly you sped up only to stop abruptly. Under your foot lay the faded outlines of a chalk drawn hopscotch. Smiling brightly to yourself you looked carefully around you, your eyes taking in the scenery, there was no one in sight. Placing one foot on the starting line, you proceed to hop through the numbers laughing quietly to yourself. You were definitely over the age where that would be considered appropriate, but you did not care. Sidewalk chalk games have always been your favourite.
“I see you have found something more important than meeting your own boyfriend.” The voice startled you and with a yelp you stumbled right before your feet could touch the squares with the numbers 9 and 10 in it. Turning towards the source you pouted at the man standing in front of you. The wide smile and soft features were unmistakable and your pout quickly dissolved into a beaming grin. “Yoongi.” You laughed, your feet carrying you towards said man. As you approached him, your pace quickened before you broke out into a run jumping into his arms at the last minute.
“Y/N.” He grunted, the impact knocking the air out of him. His displeasure was not real though and once he gained his footing back his arms wrapped around you tightly. Looking down at him, your heart swelled with affection. His eyes were half closed, the bright smile taking over most of his face, his black hair long enough to brush over his pale complexion. He was handsome and he was all yours. Squeezing him in your arms again to gain his attention you pecked his cheek. “Hello.” He couldn’t help but laugh at your redundant greeting but nevertheless responded. “Hello love. Have a good morning?” The arms wrapped around your waist tightened, you realised he was still carrying you. Worried for his back you wriggled yourself to get him to let you go. His arms only tightened around you, not ready to let you out of his arms just yet.
“Yoongi.” You whined with a pout. “Let me go! Your back.” You patted his shoulder. He knew you were not actually angry at him, if the laughter lines at the corner of your eyes were any indication. “Just a bit longer love, I haven't seen you in so long.” Your pout lessened and you laughed at him, “it’s only been 2 days silly.” Despite your words your arms wrapped around his neck once more as you buried your head in the nape of his neck. Inhaling deeply you took in his warm scent, a smell that has become so familiar to you, it made you feel like coming home.
“Exactly,” he laughed, and you could imagine the sight of his gummy smile in your head. After so many years, the thought of it still makes your heart race. He was not very liberal with his smiles, but when he did share them with you, it was the most beautiful and uplifting sight. The intensity of it took your breath away. Suddenly you felt the world around you shift as he started spinning the two of you round. You screeched holding onto him as if your life depended on it. This was another uncharacteristic Yoongi behaviour, this playfulness only rearing its head few and far between. As a public figure he always had to be careful of his outward appearance and behaviour, his moves always calculated and thought of beforehand so as to avoid any potential scandals. However, with you he always let his guard down. The aloof Min Yoongi morphed into a child, ready to do anything you asked of him. Even if it was building a fort at 4am to cuddle under and listen to the sound of the rain pitter-pattering outside. “Yoongi stop!” You cried out, the colours of the trees around you morphing into one as dizziness started to set in. He did not stop until the echo of voices reached your ears, signalling the approach of a group of people. Putting you back on your feet, his hands lightly gripped your elbows making sure you did not fall over. Once he was sure you were firmly planted on the ground, his hands dropped to yours and with a silly grin he enclosed his palms over yours.
“Come on, we have company.” You chuckled, but followed him, his bigger strides keeping him a few steps ahead of you. The sight of his back brought back so many memories. Over the two decades you had been close, it had become a sight so intimate to you, that more often than not it appeared in your dreams as a refuge, your safe haven. The voices behind you could be heard coming closer, and Yoongi turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Wide eyed he glanced at you, a quiet signal. You needed to hurry up, and so with a giggle you picked up the pace, breaking into a small run trying to reach a place where it was just the two of you.
Hand in hand, your steps in sync, you walked down the empty path, enjoying the quietness of the early morning, the sun beating down on the pavement, eyes closed in contentment. You remembered the first time you felt this complete, the day when Yoongi finally asked you to be his girlfriend. As friends you always spent time together but as soon as you decided that the furtive glances and subtle hand touches were more than feelings of friendship, something in your relationship shifted. Your days meeting in the cafe were not about two friends catching up with each other anymore, instead, they could be considered a bud waiting to bloom, the bud of your romantic relationship. Your conversations were not as easy going anymore, still lighthearted, but this time, him and you were establishing the grounds of your affection. An affection which you would build on for however long you were meant to last. In your heart, you knew that you had always loved him, even before this significant shift in your connection.
“You are making that face.” His voice broke you out of your daydream. Brought back to the present, you narrowed your eyes at him in mock offense. “What is with my face? I thought you liked this face.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you started swinging your intertwined arms higher and higher in the air. Yoongi scoffed at your childishness, but he couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through him. You were beautiful, even when acting half your age, and he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to fall in love with. Your loud disposition was what drew him to you in the first place. Or better yet, your loud disposition was the reason you barged into his life. The thought of your first meeting made him smile, his grip on your hand tightening. “See, now you are making a face.” Your rebuttal came quickly and he couldn’t help but laugh. As he looked at you, his laugh dissolved into a fond smile. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Before you could think of a response, he pulled you to his side, his hand released yours, only to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“I was just thinking.” He hummed, glancing at the sky, its brightness making him squint. He regretted not taking his pair of sunglasses from home, but before he could dwell on that thought a poke to his side brought his attention back to you. The sight that greeted him instantly slowed his pace to a stop, and he realised it was not you who poked him, but the pair of sunglasses that you were offering to him with a hopeful smile. “Knew you’d forget them so I kept a pair on me.” In that moment, the brightness of the sky couldn’t even compare with your smile, the latter becoming the sole reason his heart started doing somersaults in his chest. By instinct his hand went to check his back pocket, its weight becoming more and more apparent. He stopped himself before he could draw your attention. Instead, he took the glasses you offered him and placed them on the bridge of his nose, his face instantly relaxing.
With a grateful smile, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more. “What were you thinking about?” His eyes drank in the sight of your wistful smile, your eyes gazing off into the distance - the face he’s mentioned before, the face you made when you reminisced. He’s seen that expression multiple times when you’d both be sitting on your balcony, a glass of wine in your hands, your back leaning onto him, both covered in blankets. On those nights you would talk about anything and nothing at all. You would share amusing stories of your daily life, he would share his creative processes with you, sometimes you would play stupid games and sometimes, the sombre atmosphere left no room for entertainment. On those days, both of you would make sure to stay away from any alcohol until after you had gotten all your emotions out. Those nights you would cry for each other, your hearts intertwining along with the stars, your bodies moulding into one, until the stress and pain from the day would release its grip on your souls. He knew that look all too well, it meant that somewhere in your head, you were reliving a story, and so he waited patiently knowing very well he would hear it soon. After a few minutes of silence, the only sounds to be heard were the crunch of the gravel scattered on the pavement under your shoes, you turned towards him, a content smile on your face.
“Do you remember when we first met?” At your words he looked thoughtful for a second too long, before he responded with a cheeky grin. “You mean to say I should be able to remember the time when dinosaurs existed on this planet?” You huffed in aggravation before pushing into him slightly with your shoulder. “Honeyboy,” you warned playfully, “don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers.” He guffawed at the words he heard for the first time exactly twenty years ago. “As if you had enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His words should’ve annoyed you, as they did before, instead you beamed at him, the butterflies in your stomach causing a storm of emotions to burst inside of you. He did remember- that was his exact response to you at the time. The knowledge that not only did he have a vague idea of what you were talking about, but he also had a vivid recollection of the exact exchange that took place at the time made you dizzy.
Indeed, that summer day on the playground, twenty years ago, you threatened him with sand in his overalls if he refused to offer you his friendship. That thought would make you blush for years to come, but at the time, it was what instigated a beautiful friendship.
The children playing in the sand screeched and laughed, each trying to create a sand castle better than their friend’s. In the midst of it, you were the loudest of them all. Loud and obnoxious, you commanded the attention of the whole group, self proclaiming yourself the queen of all the sand castles, even though yours was the one that lacked the most. Yet, no one dared to question it, they went along with what you were telling them. The group of children surrounding you soon got bigger and bigger, as your loud disposition would attract the attention of all the newcomers.
“Come on, let's play at the monkey bars!” your pudgy finger pointed towards the abandoned steel poles. You had been eyeing them for a while, not because they posed an interest to you, you could care less about them. But the lonely boy leaning on one of the bars immediately commanded your attention. He was digging a stick in the soft ground at the base of the pole, and you have seen the look adorning his face before. It was the same look you would have when your parents would take you to their grown up things, it was boredom. And on a playground that was sacrilege to you. Without waiting for a response from your newly made friends you ran towards the bar, making sure to stop a few feet in front of the boy.
“Hello?” You called out to him your voice wavering for a second, wondering if it was smart to approach a stranger like that. But as soon his eyes lifted from the intricate designs his stick had managed to draw, your resolve steeled. He looked sad, lonely, and you would not let that happen. Approaching him with a determined gaze on your face you stopped a few breaths away from kicking him in the face with your knee. “Hey, do you wanna play with me?” You smiled at him, the lack of a front tooth making it look like a comical sight. The boy carried on staring at you, not uttering a word, so you tried to extend the invitation again, this time slower, assuming he did not understand you the first time. When he remained still for a few more seconds after which he returned to his masterpiece, your anger increased, and you stomped your foot on the ground.
“Hey, don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers!” You threatened, prepared to bend down to gather a handful of the said offender. The boy scoffed under his breath and you prepared to throw an insult back at him, but the sight of his smirk made you close your mouth quickly. “As if you have enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His stick motions to the still damp mound of sand by your feet to emphasize his words and as if to prove him wrong you bend down your hands sinking into the softness of the sand. Giving him a threatening look you dare him to continue mocking you. “Are you stupid?” His voice is harsh, but underneath all that your seven year old brain could detect the bravado. Faltering, you gave him a thoughtful look. “I will have you know i got a golden star at school the other day, so i’m not stupid!” You responded just as harshly. How dare he call you stupid? “If you don’t want to play with me just say, fine.” You stick up your nose in distaste, ready to leave the rude boy behind when he goes to stop you, the sound caught in his throat. Your eyes scrutinised him ready to give him a piece of your mind when you spot the leg that he is hiding behind himself, a thick cast around the ankle. Your eyes widen as realisation dawns over you. Of course, how could you have been so stupid and so brash. Your mother warned you to not rush head first into being judgemental and for the first time you understood what she meant. Embarrassed at your own behaviour you blush, your eyes darting around trying to find a distraction. When you spot the empty grey pavement a thought crosses your mind. You turn around quickly, throwing him a “wait for me” over your shoulder before you rush towards your mother.
Running back towards his dejected form, you could see the tension slip away when he spies you returning. Once again stopping short from kicking him you blush, the sudden courage you had earlier completely gone. Bashfully you extend your hand towards him, a pack of colourful chalk in your hands. Staring at it confusedly, he didn’t know what to do so instead he asked, “what is that?” he pointed towards it and you scoffed . “It’s chalk, now who is the one who is stupid?” He stared at it in awe before he shifted his attention towards you, “and what are you going to do with it?” You don’t respond to him, but instead you grab his arm, your fingers were clammy and could barely enclose over his forearm but with tremendous stubbornness you managed to get him standing upright. Not letting go of his hand you slowly encouraged him to take a few steps at a time until you both reached the strip of pavement you’ve spied earlier. You made it a point to not respond to the boy’s questions until you were both settled, your bums on the pavement and you’d pulled out two pieces of coloured chalk. One pink and one blue. He extended his hand to reach for the blue but you pulled it away tutting at him.
“Not this one stupid, this one.” You handed the pink one and he stared at it in distaste. “But pink is not for boys, pink is for girls.” He complained and extended his hand out for the blue chalk again. “Blue and pink are two colours. That is all. My mommy says you shouldn’t think inside a box, you should expand your….” You stopped, your face scrunched up in concentration. “Skyline…or something.” Dejected at not having remembered the word you took a deep breath in and carried on. “ Anyways, so it doesn’t matter if you are a girl or a boy.” The boy looked at you in awe, his eyes blinking repeatedly in fascination. “O-kay.” He’s quick to relent and soon enough, the outline of a house could be seen in pink chalk in front of him. The excited screams of children could be heard from across the playground and suddenly someone is yelling a name. “Y/N!” The boy looks confusedly around him, expecting a response from the crowd of children that took up his spot near the monkey bars. Instead, you looked up and waved at the person yelling the name. “Are you coming?” They waved you over and for a second the boy thought you’d get up and leave him, like most of the people have done when they’ve discovered he was not only shy but also a cripple for the time being. He could feel his heart drop at the thought, nevertheless, you glanced at him briefly before shaking your head. “Nah.” The group didn’t even bother calling for you a second time, their attention grabbed by the colourful metal bars awaiting them.
“Oh yes, my name is Y/N!” You suddenly turned towards your companion, your beaming smile uncovering your missing tooth once more. “What is yours?”
The boy looked wearily at you, the thought of you staying with him despite his handicap warming his soul. He throws you a small smile, his chocolate eyes scrunching slightly at the action and you swore that in that moment you felt enraptured. “Yoongi.” He didn’t say anything else, his attention back to his dream house. Sure, it may have been in chalk but he was determined to have that. Admiring his work, his eyes trailed towards your form and he could feel a tender smile bloom on his face. Yes, he was determined to have that.
“You were the biggest sap I have ever met.” Back to the present, you and him had managed to make your way through the trees, the winding path taking you further into the park. The sounds of the city seemed far away from you now, the only sounds surrounding you being the busy chirp of birds and the rustle of the leaves in the wind. Yoongi laughed and prepared to prove you wrong, but if he was honest with himself, you weren’t. Taking his lack of response as a win, you grinned cheekily at him. “Do you remember the time you wanted to convince me to climb a tree with you? Because you were told that fairies lived in that tree?” You spied the redness colouring his cheeks, the memory was a blessing and a curse for him. He did ask you to climb into the tree with you, but your memory of that event was not entirely correct. He had asked you, not because he heard that fairies lived in that tree, but because he heard that if you climbed in it with your crush, you’d end up spending the rest of your life together. He was twelve at the time, barely getting out of his prepubescent phase where girls were disgusting to him. He had the shock of his life when he managed to escape such beliefs, only to be smacked head on into it with his best friend. His best friend who went on adventures with him, his best friend who’d sit on the swings listening to his stories of pirates and of dragons - no princesses because they were gross. His best friend who happened to be you. Suddenly, his stories included princesses and princes who saved them from the dragon; most often than not, his plan to be a prince would backfire and he would end up being bossed around and turned into the princess who needed to be saved. He took it all, and played the part with starry eyes, because it was you who asked this of him. Any other person and he would have kicked them in the shin. But for you, for you he was willing to face the wrath of his parents for being out late at night, he was willing to skip basketball practice, only to spend a few more hours with you.
“Correction love, I was made into biggest sap possible.” He narrowed his eyes at you behind his glasses, “who decided that being emo was the way to go, prepared to get your ears pierced and god knows how many tattoos, even though you are terrified of needles?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, the exact conversation that you two had with each other, still ingrained in your brain. It was the first time he had admitted to feeling anything more than platonic love towards you.
You were both perched on top of your bed, your knees drawn to your chest, his, crossed at the ankles, his eyes pierced yours in the fiercest of stares and you drew your legs closer to yourself in an attempt to ward yourself from his stare. It was one of the first few times you had witnessed Yoongi this upset, and it scared you. Only because you had dared mentioning the tattoo you were planning to get, excitedly you even drew a design for it. Yoongi’s reaction was not what you’d expected. to be honest, you didn't even know what he would say, his emotions and mood swings could be extremely volatile- but it was definitely not this. “Yooooongiiiii,” you whined, his stare made you more uncomfortable as time passed and no word was exchanged between the two of you. His only response was a huff, but in your eyes that was better than the silence he’s been offering you for the past half an hour. “Look, it is not that big of a deal, I get this and then I will stop, I promise.” You pleaded, your eyes getting wider and wider, in your signature baby face. A face that Yoongi knew he could not win against, but this time, he would try his hardest. Seeing that your efforts yielded no results you sighed, the sadness that you’d tried to contain taking over you. Attuned to you and your moods more than he’d like to admit, Yoongi noticed the shift in your emotions straight away, and he shifted closer to you on the bed with a worried look. Neither of you uttered a word, the traffic outside your window being the only sounds that penetrated through the walls of your bedroom.
“Look,” you finally broke the silence, the angst in your sixteen year old heart too much to contain. “I just want to prove myself to him, okay?” Sensing Yoongi’s body weight shift on the bed, you hurriedly continued, “-and I know what you will say, I don’t need to right? But, you don’t know what it’s like. I have had this crush for so long now, it hurts physically.” Your voice broke and along with it so did Yoongi’s heart. He had tried his best to support you in all your endeavours, including your romantic ones, and yet, the older he got, the harder it was for him to dampen his own. “I do know.” He muttered and your head snapped up to look at him, he was facing away from you, a dusty rosy pink colouring his cheeks.
“What?” You whispered, your brain trying to recall if at any point Yoongi has expressed his interest in any girl, or boy for that matter. But no matter how hard you’d tried, there was nothing, not even in passing. So once he reiterated what he said before, this time louder, you looked at him bewilderment. “How, what, Yoongi, why did you not say something about this? Who is it? Do I know her? Is it a he?” In your excitement at this new reveal, you forgot all about your anxiety and hurt, yet, your incessant questions were causing him distress. Shifting away from you on the bed he rubbed the back of his neck, “forget I said anything.” But you would not have it, somehow, the thought of Yoongi having a crush on someone felt like Christmas. Maybe one day, both of your crushes would return your feelings, and then you would go on dates, you and him, and other people. Your brain froze at the thought of sharing him with other people, dread settling over you. You could not fathom not having Yoongi there for you. You have been together through thick and thin in the decade that you have known each other. He was there when your parents split up, he was there when you experienced your first teenage heartbreak, he was there to stop you when the hurt of having such a broken family made you resort to underage drinking. He was there to tell you how stupid you were and how you were not only hurting yourself, but you were hurting the people around you. He was there to remind you that you were not alone when you were faced with the hardest decision, to stay with your mother or leave with your father. He was there when high school entrance exams had a toll on you and you stopped eating, he was there to pick you up when you did not get into the same high school as he did. He was also there for the good times. But now that you thought about it, most of your good times involved him one way or another. When he took you to see a film that you had been gushing about yet he hated the genre, when he taught you how to ice skate, when you went to see his first basketball match, when he got you a puppy for Christmas so you would not be alone. He was there ingrained in your heart painting it in pink. The realisation that maybe it was not that one high school classmate that you liked hit you like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t him that made your heart race and butterflies race in your stomach. No, it was your best friend, Min Yoongi.
“Yoongi.” You hesitantly reached out to him, your hand brushing the sleeve of his hoodie. “I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t tell you, not because he was afraid he would ruin a friendship, you were both stronger than that. But he could not bear the thought of placing his emotions on you, of influencing you that way. Mentally you were already burnt out, having pined over someone for so long and not having your feelings returned, that he was afraid you would just jump at the first opportunity of an escape. He did not want his affection for you to be your getaway car. It would only hurt you and it would ruin him in the long run.
Grabbing onto his hoodie, halting him from biting his thumb, an action you have come to realise was comfort for him when he was stressed, you pulled yourself more towards him. “I love you.” You whispered, your voice drowned by the sound of a car honking outside and for a second you prayed that he hadn't heard you, but judging by the way his whole body stiffened, a rock underneath your palm, you knew it was wishful thinking.
“You know, I didn’t think you’d heard me that day.” You mused your attention back to present Yoongi, the Yoongi that has already admitted to you on more than one occasion how much he loved you.
“What made you think that?” His gentle voice was matched by the movement of his fingers playing with yours. “It took you almost a year to reply or even acknowledge it.” You smiled wryly at him. Even though that had been in the past, the memory of the uncertainty and apprehension you lived through for a whole year was still fresh in your mind. After months of not knowing how to approach him, every awkward interaction strained the bond of your friendship, you argued with yourself whether or not it was fair on him for you to push and demand an answer, just for your peace of mind.
Yoongi’s fingers grip yours tightly in an attempt to soothe the ache he could read on your face at the memory. He couldn’t deny that he tried to ignore the drift that happened between the two of you that year, thinking it was best if you both got used to relying less on each other. After all, university was looming over the two of you, he was about to leave on a basketball scholarship, and as much faith as he had in your friendship, he did not want to burden you with his feelings. The only solution that he’s come up with was to let the relationship naturally drift apart.
“You were a bit of an asshole, you know?” You smiled at the thought, the one and only time he had ever made you cry throughout your friendship. So caught up in your thoughts, that neither of you has noticed the sight of the one place that was dear to both of you. The basketball court where his life has begun. “Should we go in?” you motioned towards the closed gates. “They’re locked.” The lock was indeed on the wired gate, but you grinned wickedly, a sight that told Yoongi you were about to suggest something that he may not agree with. “When did that stop us?” You laughed as he groaned in disapproval whilst taking his glasses off and placing them in his jacket. You were not wrong, it had never stopped you, and he had his fair share of keeping you out of detention on most days for jumping the school gates.”We are not school kids anymore, Y/N.” His tone sounded as if he was scolding you, but the glimmer in his eyes told you otherwise. You pull on his hand lightly, bringing him closer to you. “Please?” You whispered as you stood on your tiptoes, your lips only a breadth away from his. Yoongi faltered, he knew he couldn’t say no to you. He smirked, that did not mean he couldn’t request bribery though.
“Y/N, we’d be trespassing.” His tone was serious, but the pull at the corner of his mouth told you another story. You knew very well where this was going, but you would not give in that easily, two could play at this game. With a huff you grabbed the lapels of his jean jacket pulling him flush to your body, your noses touching. You licked your lips, the tip of your tongue ghosting over his. “Please honeyboy?” You pleaded, your glossy lips forming into a pout. Yoongi gulped, it took all he had to not sweep you off your feet and kiss you senseless. “Please.” You rubbed the tip of your nose against his softly and he had to close his eyes to calm himself down. “Love,” he warned and you knew that with one more push he would be all yours. “Yes, love?” You let go of his jacket only to trail your palms up his torso, feeling the muscles contract underneath your touch, to wrap your arms around his neck.
“Fuck it.” Yoongi grabbed your waist pulling you to him with such force you let out a yelp. Your bodies smacked against each other, your lips clashed in a searing kiss, a battle for dominance where there was no winner, just pure pleasure. You moaned into the kiss, his soft lips attacking yours roughly, his tongue slid into your mouth caressing yours. Out of breath you pulled away from him, you could still feel the phantom of his lips against yours. Panting slightly you smirked, “I won, now let's go.” You pulled away from his embrace and grabbed his hand pulling him along with you. Gobsmacked, Yoongi followed you, his eyes never leaving the back of your head. It’s been like this ever since you met, you would somehow convince him to get into trouble with you, and he would follow you like a lost puppy. No, he thought, like a lovesick fool.
“Come on, help me.” You giggled as you grabbed onto the fence ready to pull yourself up. Yoongi sighed but did what you asked, and soon you were both running towards the centre of the court, you a giggling mess and him laughing at your giddiness. As soon as you reached your destination you plopped yourself down gesturing wildly at him. “Come on slowpoke.” Yoongi shook his head at you but increased his pace until he hovered over you. He sat down next to you, the object in his back pocket poking him in the back. He sighed, worry washing over him. Needless to say he had no time to dwell on it as you wiggled yourself next to him, settling your head on his lap. “I missed this place.” You sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. The heat from the sun was less harsh than earlier as it was nearing late afternoon. You had walked the whole day stopping in places and getting ice cream and street food from vendors stationed in the park. It was a weekday and so not many people were milling about, giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy yourselves. With Yoongi being a well known basketball player, it was easy for him to get recognised. Whereas, it wasn’t too much of a problem usually, you just wanted some time for yourselves.
“Hey,” he called out softly, his fingers playing with the tip of your ears. You whined and swatted at his hand. “Do you remember my last high school match?”
Your laughter died in your throat, and you opened your eyes slowly. That memory always brought tears to your eyes, the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through that day left a lasting impression on you. “You mean when you yelled in my face that you loved me and called me stupid in front of your whole team?” You smile wryly at him and he has the audacity to grimace. “In my defense, you were poking a sleeping bear.” His fingers traced the line of your nose until they reached the tip. “Sleeping bear indeed. That is a good self portrait.” You stuck your tongue out at him only to break out in peals of laughter when his fingers find the side of your hip.
“Stop, stop, stop.” You grabbed at his hand trying to get him to stop but his attack was relentless. “You know the words love.” He playfully reminds you and you bite your lip. “Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry oh mighty honeyboy. I didn't mean to poke fun at you or your skills.” You mock saluted, and he pinched you lightly as a warning, his eyes narrowing.
For a few moments it is silent, both of you enjoying the remnants of the sun, hands intertwined together until you break the stillness by asking the question that hung over the both of you. “Would you have done it all the same?” Yoongi knew what you meant, you were asking him if it were not for the loss of his team then, and the loss of his scholarship, would he have confessed to you that day?
“Yes.” He sighed, there was no need to avoid the inevitable. “Maybe not then, maybe not until years later, but I would have.” You lifted your head up briefly to glance at him, “would you have waited so long? Why?” Your voice is soft, any traces of mischievousness gone.
“Because I had loved you for a long time, even before you said anything.” He sighs, he’d never told you this. After he confessed that day, you never talked about it again. You took it at face value, never once questioning his feelings for you, or their duration for that matter. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, you had?” Yoongi nods at your question, his eyes finding yours as he continues, “ever since you took my hand that day.” He smiles softly at you and you couldn’t stop the watery laugh that escapes. “Well, I enjoyed my aggressive confession, and I would not trade it for the world.” Yoongi could only laugh, the embarrassment present in his voice, he had not meant to be that aggressive but his team had lost, he was injured and you were a crying mess yelling at him for not being more careful.
“Why could you not be more careful? Who cares if you win or not? Did you have to step in at that time?” Eighteen year old you was an emotional mess. For the past year and a half yours and Yoongi’s relationship had suffered tremendously, you experienced your first heartbreak when he chose to ignore your confession, and your second heartbreak when your first boyfriend became too intimidated by your friendship. itting there on the sidelines, watching with your heart in your throat as Yoongi tried to placate the ball only to get hit in the chest with so much force he laid there on the ground for a good two minutes;Needless to say that had been your breaking point. You knew you weren’t being fair, this match was everything to him. This match determined whether or not he would get the scholarship for the university he wanted to get into. Now that they had lost, he also lost the chance to get it. You knew all that, but the sight of him sprawled on the ground unmoving was too much for you, and as soon as the referee had called for the end of the match you ran as fast as you could.
The team gathered around the two of you, after you have managed to break the ranks and slot yourself between them to reach him. You didn’t care that everyone could hear your argument, all you could see was him and his recklessness. Yoongi did not move a muscle, his impassive face not giving away any of his feelings and that only fuelled your anger even more. “Yoongi! Stop being stubborn, talk to me!” You pulled at his jersey, desperate for a reaction. You didn’t even notice the tears that had started to trail down your face, too caught up in lecturing him. He did however, and with a sigh he ran his hands over his face. He really did not want to cause a scene in front of his teammates, but you were not giving up, and the sight of your tears hurt him more than the kick to the chest he’s gotten.
“You know this matters for me Y/N, why are you being like this!” He finally acknowledged you, the tone of his voice still calm and collected. “Because I care damnit!” You pull harder as if that would make him answer you truthfully. Instead of paying attention to you, Yoongi just looked down at his shoes, dreading this conversation. He’s done so well to avoid talking about this, and even though he noticed that this was something you haven’t forgotten, he hoped that when you finally got your first boyfriend things would change, and you would forget about him. He knew it was selfish of him but he couldn't help being relieved when he was offered the easy way out.
“Why?” His voice is a whisper, but you heard it, the sounds of the crowd not even reaching your ears, all you could see was him. Sniffling you let go of his top, defeated you wiped your tears with your hoodie - his hoodie to be precise. “Because! Does it matter?” You don’t whisper, your voice rings loudly, tired or not, you can’t let your chance go to waste. That was the first time he addressed your feelings and you would take it and fight until the end.
“Yes, yes it does!” He raised his voice, the frustration at your stubbornness finally getting to him. “Why would you do this to you? To me? I tried my best to be diplomatic about this! And you are making it so damn difficult!” You flinch at his tone, he’s never raised his voice at you before, but you were not one to back down. Not now, when you finally have the chance to express your true feelings towards him.
“Because I am not a pushover! And because I am not scared! And because I believe in us! And…” the sob that escapes you turns into a hiccup and you paused to wipe at your tears again. Yoongi’s face softened, regret washing over him. He knew he was at fault, for your tears, for your insecurities. But knowing and witnessing how much it had affected you was a different story. “And because I believe in you. So then why would you do this?” If Yoongi had any mind to carry on pleading ignorance, after your confession, it had all gone out the window. Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, the love he harboured for you invading his thoughts and his heart like a tsunami. There was no way he could deny anything now, so he prayed that he would not have to be faced with the truth, one last attempt at avoiding it.
“Why would you leave me stranded like that?” Your shoulders slump, the fight leaving your body, and suddenly your knees feel like gelatin. You stumbled slightly, when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you tightly towards their chest.
“Because I love you, stupid.” The familiar scent of your best friend surrounded you and for the first time in a year, you smiled.
You’re brought back to the present by the warmth of a hand on your cheek. “Love, it’s getting late, and there is one more place we need to visit.” If you hadn’t known Yoongi for so long you would have missed the slight waver in his voice. But you were attuned to every little change in disposition so even the smallest hesitation that you could hear in his voice allerted you. Opening your eyes, you study his face, his pouty lips, the slightly uneven shape of his eyes, his nose, the way his hair falls onto his forehead. This was the man you loved and you would not have had it any other way. You reached out a finger slowly, his eyes following it closely, confused at your actions. When you were close enough to the tip of his nose you quickened your movement, poking his forehead without a warning. The astonishment is clear on his face and you can’t help but chuckle. “Right, where to mister?” You rise slowly on your feet, looking at him with curiosity. He didn’t mention a last spot before and you couldn’t think of any other places that you may have missed.
Taking your hand he guided you out of the court, watching you like a hawk as you descended the gate. Once out, he took your hand in his and beamed. “Where it all began.”
Reaching your final destination, your feet sunk in the soft sand, taking you nearer to the colourful monkey bars that stood proud in the middle of the playground. Twenty years had passed since you have met each other, yet nothing had changed. The sandbox was still full and remnants of castles blown by the wind were scattered around it. The sound of children playing games and running around still as much the soundtrack of the playground as it had been back then. The monkey bars looked old and rusty, however their colours were shining brightly in the light of the setting sun- clearly having been painted recently. The only difference from two decades ago stood out like a sore thumb. It was you and him. Still hand in hand at the playground, so similar to your seven year old selves and yet so different. This time you were not two children, setting out on a path of beautiful friendship, you were not even young lovers, giddy with the thrill of your first love, you were two grown ups, having gone through trials in life and love, ready to take on the world and whatever life handed you together.
You let go of his hand, the loss of heat instantly making you shiver, and you grabbed onto the top of the bar, struggling to lift your legs up. Yoongi laughed at you but at your whines he hurried to help you, grabbing you by your thighs, giving them a push. Now wrapped around the bars like a monkey, your head hanging upside down, you let your head drop and closed your eyes. The utter bliss that surrounded you alongside the warmth of the setting sun made you smile in contentment. “Hey Yoongi.” You called out for him, but after a few seconds had passed and you received no response you opened your eyes scanning your surroundings confusedly. He was nowhere in your sight, and for a second doubt gripped at your heart. Had he left without telling you?
Scouring the playground you let your legs drop to the ground. You did not know whether it was the impact of your feet touching the ground, the thrill of jumping off the monkey bar or the fact that as soon as you turned around, he was there less than a feet away from you, a gentle smile on his face, his hand extended towards you- but your heart felt like it would explode. With the feelings coursing through your veins too much to contain, your lips twitched. You wanted to scold him for disappearing out of your sight, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss him senseless, so confused at your own thoughts that you stayed rooted on the spot gaping at him like a fish out of water.
“Love?” The tender look never leaving his face, the corners of his lips twitched. He took a step closer to you, with each step the heaviness of his pocket reminding him of his mission. Taking your hand in his gently, he ran his thumb over your knuckles, the action sending shivers down your spine. Blinking repeatedly at him you closed your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe, as it seemed that you had forgotten how to. The sight of him encased by the low light of the dawn, his light blonde hair reflecting the golden hues creating a halo around him, was enough to take your breath away. The pads of his fingers gently traced up your hand until they reached your wrist, wrapping around it and gently pulling you along.
You did not question him, your feet moving of their own accord. You followed him blindly out of the playground back towards the cement pathway, as you had for the past twenty years of your relationship. Coming to a stop on the pavement where you once shared your hopes and dreams in chalk, he grabbed both of your hands. His distress was instantly evident in the way they trembled, the clammy grip he had on you, similar to the one you had on him all those years ago. Giving him a reassuring squeeze, you waited for what he had to say, your brain going into overdrive.
“Close your eyes.” His voice is soft, so unlike the tough persona he displayed for the public, yet so much like the Yoongi that you have grown up with. You slowly close your eyes, and for a few seconds all you hear is silence, until a rustle draws your attention. You can’t feel his hands on yours anymore and you drop them to the side, patiently waiting for him to allow you to open your eyes. Your ears perked up at the sound of scraping, the softness of the sound rhythmic as if it followed the beat of your heart. As soon as the noise started trailing Yoongi’s voice broke you out of your trance, and this time, the tone of his voice demanded attention, so when he told you to open your eyes you did so without hesitation.
Your eyes locked onto his, the love and adoration in them washed over you in waves, making you tremble with the intensity of it. His head tilted to the side, the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and you knew in that moment that this was it for you, he was your forever and he would always be. “Y/N,” his voice carried over to you snapping you out of your daze, his head motioning to something in front of him. Slowly your eyes followed the movement and a small gasp escaped your lips, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Love.” That was enough to break the dam that held your feelings together and you all but dropped to the ground, sobs surging through your body. In panic Yoongi made a move to get to you, scenarios of you rejecting him playing out in his head. You did not try to stop him, basking in his warm embrace, lifting you up and giving you strength as he usually did. You closed your eyes letting another fresh trail of tears run down your face. “Love, please you are scaring me.” His voice broke, and he could feel the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes. Your only response was to grab onto him tighter, hoping that if you brought yourself close enough to him, you would become one, and he would be able to understand how much love was running through your veins at the moment, how much respect and adoration, for the man that has constantly been by your side, the man who decided that playing with chalk that fateful day was what he had wanted, the man who decided that your loud mouth was worth loving and kissing every morning and every night. You broke away from his embrace to glance once more at the pavement. Feeling a new wave of tears gather in your eyes making your vision blur, you quickly wiped them away.
“Yes.” You sniffed as you looked up, your eyes locked with Yoongi’s teary ones. “Yes you silly man.” His smile widened little by little, until all you can see are his cheeks and his teeth. “Really?” the elatedness was apparent in his voice and in that moment you do not see a twenty eight year old man, you see the seven year old whose hand you took; the child with a broken leg you dragged along to play with you. The child whose hand you would take each year; the child whose hand would become your anchor, the hand you would get to hold forever. Nodding erratically you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips finding his.
As you kissed under the setting sun, two united souls, the sidewalk chalk writing next to you told the story of your future.
‘Will you marry me?’
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Prompt 4: Jily in the rain for @jilytoberfest
(AO3)
They are 11 and the autumn rain catches them unaware on the way back from the greenhouse. They run as fast as their short legs can carry them, but by the time they reach the Entrance Hall, they are both drenched, a pool forming beneath their feet. They looked at each other, taking the sight of the other (his hair is falling languidly over his eyes, her usually impeccable uniform is all messy) and then a laugh escapes one's lips (Lily thinks it was his happy laugh first, James thinks it was her sparkle one) and the other joins, the sound reverberating in the hall.
They are 14 and they are returning from a Quidditch match that ended with Gryffindor losing the Snitch but still winning because of all his goals. James is in the arms of the crowd, laughing, rejoicing in his victory, oblivious to the rain that fell during the game and still falls heavily. He cries, louder than the rain, and then he sees her, walking with her friends, the red and gold paint in her cheeks melting under the rain, as oblivious to the rain as everyone else. Lily is smiling also and when their eyes meet, she winks at him, mouthing something that might be "good game", before she turns away. His heart skips a beat, and the feeling of winning is replaced by a sudden longing.
They are 16 and James messed up hugely. The last week of classes finds Lily miserable (Mudblood) and James ashamed of himself (you're just as bad as he is), worlds apart from each other. She doesn't care about it, though, or for anything at this moment; Lily stands still watching the lake at night--away from where everything happened--even when the first drops of the rain ripple through the lake and later when the heavy rain falls. It's good; the rain mingles well with her tears, hides from prying eyes. The sound of footsteps over the wet ground alerts her to someone. She turns, but it's not a person; a beautiful stag approaches her almost timidly. It's an impressive beast, but rather than be afraid, she lifts her arm, waiting until the stag is close enough to touch his head, the wet fur. The stag looks at her with more comprehension than it should be reasonable in a beast and Lily hugs him, sobbing, letting him warm her against the coldness of the rain.
They are 17 and helping a group of Third Years to reach back safely the castle during a storm that interrupted a class of Care of Magical Creatures, casting Drying Spells and Warming Spells when it hits her that this is the only kind of spells she sees him doing these days. To help others. And when he joins her back at the castle, trying to dry his glasses in his even wetter clothes, she smiles and offers him her help, having stayed warm and dry because James volunteered to venture outside. She approaches him, using the sleeve of her robe to dry his glasses, before giving him back; they are so close she can see each drop of water in his face as if he is sparkling. James smiles at her in thanks, putting back his glasses--his eyes are hazel, this beautiful combination of green and brown--and her breath catches. Before she can do anything, he runs his hand through his hair, splashing water everywhere, a mischievous grin on his face and Lily has to laugh too, trying to pretend her heart isn't racing in her chest.
They are 18 and it rains heavily on the day of their first date, but neither wants to give up. It's actually a good thing. They have to remain close together under an umbrella, the shops are empty due to most students giving up and they get a table in the Three Broomsticks without any problem. And later, when the wind takes away their umbrella, when they run across the grounds trying to catch it (Sirius is very fond of this umbrella), they turn to each other, their amusement fading away to be replaced by curiosity and longing; their lips meet under a curtain of water and this kiss is as wet as it can be, but they don't mind (Sirius complains that they could have cast an Accio and still snog, which is fair).
They are 20 and it rains on their wedding day but someone says that is a lucky sign and no one dares to question it.
They are 21 and Godric's Hollow feels more and more like a prison than their house. James spends as many hours outside as he can, feeling the sun on his face, the breeze of the wind, and he doesn't move when the first raindrops start to fall. Lily opens the backdoor, Harry in her arms, and calls him; James can't move. He watches as she leaves Harry in his baby carriage (their son loves to sleep under the sound of the rain) and walks towards him, the rain drenching her clothes in seconds, mud messing her legs. Lily doesn't mind; she joins him, lifting her head to accept the rain and James thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than this image of his wife under the rain. "I love you," he whispers, and she turns to kiss him. "As I love you."
They are 25 and the rain starts when they are outside attending to their small garden. Lily casts an Impervious to keep him dry and turn to Harry, but there is already a faint silver light around him; she guesses James already charmed him, so she just keeps explaining the herbs they are planting, Harry watching with attention. A distant sound makes her turn around. James and Sirius are running from the street, bringing bags from the grocery store; they could have cast a spell as well, but Lily thinks they are having too much fun. Then she blinks, turning to her son; if she didn't cast the spell and neither did James… "Your son just did his first magic," she tells James when he reaches her, and he hugs her, beaming.
They are 50 and the rain has just started. They watch from the porch, calling their grandkids to enter the house, hearing their laughs as they splash water at each other, enjoying the summer rain.
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Hello! Why do you think Carlisle likes Aro? (Love your meta btw!)
This blog lasted 25 days before becoming an Aro/Carlisle blog. The sanity was nice while it lasted, I suppose.
Oh well, I embrace my trash ship.
(Anon is referring to this post)
(This one is also relevant)
So, while on Aro’s end it was a case of “did the gods just give me my very own Enkidu?”, for Carlisle we must look at the circumstances. The Carlisle Cullen who walked into Volterra is not the Carlisle Cullen who works at Forks General.
Carlisle was a demon-hunting priest who brought his religion into his new life. Having no idea what he’d just become, apart from the obvious things like “I desperately want to kill people for their blood” and “I sparkle?!”, many of the things that are obvious to us would not be at all obvious to him. His only experience with other demons was the slum-dweller that killed him. It was brutal, and three other people from his parish were murdered as well. He’d been able to track the vampire down, something I can only take that to mean that the vampire used his parish for hunting grounds. He’s so horrified by what he’s become that he tries to destroy himself. This fails, and instead he finds a way out that lets him live without having to kill, and with that comes to the realization that vampires retain their souls (which is for another post).
My point being, Carlisle wakes up as a demon, and has no way of knowing how any of this works, nor of how to explain the fact that he is able to retain his soul. It’s telling that even after centuries of being a vampire he still thought something might be fundamentally different about him, as he chose to turn Edward by simulating his own transformation, even though it meant more pain for Edward. In other words, Carlisle was not guaranteed that his experience was universal. By the time we meet him in canon he’s wonderfully friendly to everybody regardless of what they eat, but I strongly doubt he got from point “Demons are monsters and I’ll rally a mob to lynch them!” to “Vampires are people who sadly eat other people.” right away.
So, you have freshly immortal Carlisle Cullen wandering around Europe with no way of knowing that other vampires are as (for lack of a better word) human as he is. How can they be, when they choose to eat people? (My personal headcanon is that he went by a Persephone theory, and figured that by resisting human blood he’d remained a man.)
It was this Carlisle who met Aro and the other Volturi. According to Edward (I unfortunately don’t have Twilight with me so I can’t quote his exact words), they were the ones who showed him that vampires can in fact be sophisticated.
Sophisticated. Not just as in Aro, Marcus, and Caius eat their virgins with some fava beans and a nice chianti, but as in they’re civilized and intelligent beings. Carlisle was no longer a one lone freak who somehow retained his soul while everyone else went full Buffy vampire, or any other such theory. I can’t even imagine the impact that must have had on a young Carlisle who would have been even lonelier than the Carlisle who found Edward in Chicago. That Carlisle at least had friends, this younger version had absolutely nobody.
Aro changed that.
More than being sophisticated, Aro turned out to be a kindred spirit, an absolutely brilliant mind and a generous host. Carlisle chose to live with him for decades, leaving only because of their dietary differences. And even if people disagree with me with all of the above, I don’t think anyone can argue that this one isn’t huge.
Of all the people Carlisle knows in canon, Aro is the only one he stayed with just for Aro’s own sake. Carlisle loves the Cullens dearly, but the cornerstone holding them together is their shared diet, and the fact that Carlisle turned four of them, the other two joined. He did not happen upon them and then like them so much that he decided to move in. As for his other friends, he cares for them all, but he didn’t share decades of his life with them.
Regardless of how we’re interpreting their relationship (as in, platonic, UST, or raging homosexual affair), I don’t think anyone can dispute that Carlisle and Aro are each other’s best friends.
But beyond proving that vampires aren’t all sewer-dwelling, priest-eating rascals, what exactly made Aro so special?
I’ll just list his qualities in no particular order.
Sophistication
This guy is a lover of the arts and of knowledge. His gallery and library must have been the most extensive and diverse in the world, and it probably still is. I can’t even begin to imagine the wealth of knowledge and treasures that Aro must have collected over the years. If the Holy Grail exists within the world of Twilight, Aro has it. Where I’m headed with this, is that not only would Aro’s collection be the coolest thing ever to Carlisle, but also that this was a time when the number of books and an art collection was a sign of high class, of intellectualism, of all things fine and noble that was considered virtuous. Aro acts very much like wealthy European nobility, he even lives in Italy, the cultural epicenter of the Western world of old. He physically could not have been more impressive to Carlisle.
Kind of a continuation of the previous point: Aro is from Ancient Greece (well, he’s Myceanaean, but same difference to a “You predate Homer?!” starstruck Carlisle). Ancient Greece was the ultimate, perfect, civilization to Europe, and Carlisle got to Volterra just ahead of the Enlightenment. This alone would have made him so unbelievably cool to Carlisle.
Nerd
I think this one speaks for itself. Carlisle is an unbelievable nerd, an inquisitive mind who’ll study anything and everything, and in Aro he found someone who also has an inquisitive mind and will study anything and everything. They’re both very intelligent. Carlisle went from being that sad whale that sings on a frequency no other whales can hear, to having someone who just got it.
His gift
So you’re all gonna have to stay with me on this one. Aro’s gift is one most people would find very invasive, which as I touched upon in one of the posts linked above must be very isolating. And yet we know from canon that Carlisle has no problem at all with Edward reading his mind all the time, and more, if Aro reading his mind was a problem then Aro and Marcus would both have known, and I doubt their friendship would have worked out. So, I think that Carlisle not only didn’t mind having his every thought read, but that this was an actively good thing. Because what is less lonely than the company of one who knows you as intimately as you know yourself? To be friends with Aro is to be truly understood, known more deeply than anyone else can ever know you. And to someone who seeks companionship as much as Carlisle does, I imagine this is an extremely attractive feature.
Offer of friendship
Carlisle would have been hopelessly lonely when he met Aro. And as no one else is mentioned as being close to him, Jane hadn’t even met him which I find pretty telling of how he interacted (or didn’t interact) with the Guard, and he wouldn’t yet have any of his other friends that he later made, he only had Aro.
He enforcers a law that keeps the known world from descending into chaos
Human civilization wouldn’t last a day without the Volturi. There would be nothing stopping vampires from taking out entire villages in one go, immortal children would be everywhere, and the newborn armies would spread like wildfire. In the world of Twilight, the Volturi are a necessary evil. And Aro is their leader. The fact that he not only keeps the world together, an ungrateful task with no end in sight, but had the idea to create a law in the first place would make him all the more amazing to Carlisle.
And I’m sure there’s more that is currently slipping my mind.
Just, Aro is on every level the most impressive, awe-inspiring, and dare I say dazzling, that anyone can be to Carlisle. And he came into Carlisle’s life at the best possible moment. If he’d agreed to do the animal diet, Carlisle would have stayed. If he wanted to seduce Carlisle, I think he’d succeed. I also think that their time together was far more formative for the person Carlisle became than anyone gives Aro credit for.
(And if Carlisle had never found anyone who’d share the diet, he would eventually have returned. I imagine Aro thought the same, but that’s for another post.)
Oh, and last bit - in Breaking Dawn we get this beautiful moment where Carlisle learns that Aro robbed the British royal family, and he just goes, “yup, that’s my guy”. Even after Eclipse, he remains fond of Aro. I mean, there’s also the fact that he’s been lugging around this giant painting for centuries, even at a time when he didn’t have a house and I can only speculate as to where he was keeping it.
Of course, over the course of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn everything goes to hell, but that’s for another post.
TL;DR, Carlisle went from a priest’s son to living with an evil vampire overlord for decades because he’s just that great, in the present he keeps a giant painting of him in his office. I feel it’s safe to assume he likes the man.
(Edited on the 13th of April to fix some phrasing and add a link)
#this is... not my most eloquent production#OH WELL#the last time i thought as much was the bella is doomed post and that one took off so maybe that's a good thing#carlisle cullen#aro#aro/carlisle#twilight#twilight renaissance#twilight meta#my glorious ship#i just don't know what to make of people who want to insist it's one-sided and carlisle ran away screaming from that evil aro#you guys have to bend canon far more than i do to arrive at that conclusion#is it because he's a threat to carlisle/esme?#Anonymous#ask#long post
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