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runningfrom2am · 6 months

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leveling the playing field II

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.

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a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.

next part

Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.

"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."

"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."

"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."

"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.

"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."

"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.

He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.

"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.

"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.

You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.

"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.

"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."

The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.

You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.

From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.

You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.

You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.

"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.

"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.

"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"

"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.

He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.

"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.

You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.

"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.

After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.

"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.

"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.

"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.

"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.

"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"

His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.

"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.

He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."

"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.

"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."

He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.

"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.

"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."

"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.

"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.

"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.

"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.

"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.

"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.

As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.

"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."

"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.

"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."

He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.

"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.

You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.

"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."

She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.

"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."

"Coryo, huh?"

"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."

"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.

"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.

"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."

"Covey?" You ask.

"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."

"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile.

"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."

"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."

Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.

You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.

Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.

"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.

"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.

"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"

They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.

"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.

She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease.

"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.

"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.

"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.

You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.

"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.

"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly.

"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.

"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him.

"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"

"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."

"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."

"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."

He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.

"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."

He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."

"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.

You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.

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#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #lucy gray #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games #thg

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magewritesstories · 2 months

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Hi i was just wondering if you could write something of James potter and Fem!reader (established relationship) where basically they are at a Gryfindor party and basically there is this guy who has a huge crush on her and is being low-key creepy about it and it’s just James being the protective bf he is.

If not don’t worry!!!! x

[ ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ] ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ

summary: James Potter doesn't share anything, especially not his girlfriend TW: underage drinking note: ngl, I don't see James as the jealous type, but he is super protective. Also idek if Amos was in their year, but for the sake of the story he is.

JAMES POTTER IS NOT A JEALOUS GUY.

Really, he isn't. But dear Godrick he's never wanted to bash someone's head in with a bottle of firewhiskey so badly—but that might just be the empty bottle talking.

He watched from a good ten feet away as Amos Diggory flirted with you with a wide smirk.

As mentioned before, James wasn't a jealous guy. He couldn't blame the stares you got whilst walking through the halls, or the way some eyes would linger when you laughed a little too loudly at one of his dumb jokes.

You were stunning, and James didn't blame people for seeing that. Hell, he was glad they did. Besides, he couldn't ignore the tiny ego boost he got from the fact that at the end of the day he was your boyfriend and not any of them.

Amos however didn't seem to understand that.

James's eyes narrowed as he slung his arm around you oh-so casually as he told a (probably stupid) joke. You gave him a small smile, a polite one—yep, definitly a stupid joke.

"You planning on murdering Diggory by glaring, mate?" Siruis asked, walking over to his best friend with a grin, "I'm afraid you're not one of those guys from Peter's superhero books—hey wormy, which one was it? With the laser eyes?"

Peter looks up from his drink in confusion, "Superman?"

"Yeah, that one," Sirius snapped his fingers, "So, is that your plan? Burning Diggory with you laser eyes?"

"The only thing burning in here is Prongs," Remus replied with a laugh. James rolled his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lily decided to join in on the conversation and added in a teasing tone: "Really, 'cause you look a little uhm... green."

"I'm not jealous, I don't get jealous," He replied with a scoff, glancing in your direction again, "Especially not of guys like Amos Diggory."

His friends all gave him sceptical looks as he grabbed another bottle of fire whiskey. "Why would I be jealous. I have nothing to be jealous about," He insisted, staring intently as Amos dragged you and Dorcas towards the dance floor.

"What about the fact that he's already asked out Y/N like three times?" Peter replied casually. The entire friendgroup turned towards him, "What?"

He jsut shrugged, "Yeah, he just asked her out three times in the past two hours—watching him get rejected twice was awkward, the third time it was just sad."

"And you're mentioning this now?!"

"I thought you knew, I mean you've been staring at them the entire night."

James put down his bottle of firewhiskey and made his way over to the two of you.

"That's not fair—you're just Slughorn's favourite," You replied, smiling as you whirled the drink in your hand.

Amos grinned at you, "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent more time actually listening during class you'd be able to catch up with me. Maybe."

You rolled you eyes at the statement. "Oh, please, Diggory, if anything I'm doing you a favour. If I actually tried during classes I'd leave you in the dust."

"Oh, yeah?" The blond asked, raising a brow at you, "Maybe I should return the favour by taking you to Honeydukes this weekend."

"Hmm, no, I think I'm good," You reply as politely as you can, mustering a small smile.

This was the fourth time Amos had asked you out in the past two hours. And also the fourth time you'd rejected him.

How did he not know you had a boyfriend? You'd think that after that kiss (read: pretty much a make-out session) with James after Gryffindor beat (read: wiped the floor with) Hufflepuff last quidditch match, people would know the two of you were dating.

Apparantly not.

"Besides—" A loud, familiar voice sounded as James put his arm around you shoulder— "We've already got plans for this weekend."

The brunette give you a sloppy kiss and a satisfied grin, "Don't we, babe?"

You smile and nod. "Mhm, you promised me a drink at the Three Broomsticks."

Amos looked between you and James as you gave eachother lovesick stares.

Maybe you were laying it on extra thick just for Amos but they were lovesick stares nonetheless.

"Oh, uhm, well then..." He stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence. James turned to him with a raised brow, "Well, maybe you should be heading towards the firewhiskey."

Amos seemed to take the hint. Finally. He quickly scurried away and out of your sight.

You let out a sigh, "Thank you—for someone so smart that guy really doesn't know how to take a hint."

"Well, good thing you got me then," James replied, grinning from ear to ear as he kissed you again, "Your own personal superman."

You swung your arms around his neck and smiled into the kiss, "Mhm, so lucky."

words → 813

#james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter headcanons #james potter fic #james potter x you #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #amos diggry #gryffindor x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders x y/n #james potter x y/n

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aureatchi · 3 months

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no because the last thing i was expecting was fyodor’s backstory all of a sudden 😭😭 personally, i was thinking his backstory would be him beinf a somewhat “normal” person until spiraling into the mindset he has now. i definitely don’t think it’s over for him though, even if it means someone else is carrying out his plans

i also think the anime ended at atsushi and akutagawa so that viewers will run to the manga (which is still behind 💀). i feel like season 6, after they adapt whatever light novel, will open up with either the events leading up to the ending scene or fyodor’s backstory

also the theory with fyodor manipulating fukuchi does make sense!! fyodor can definitely twist things so that the whole plan they came up with seems like the only solution. seeing that part again with fukuchi + fukuzawa at the end though made me :((

also always feel free to share more theories, i’d love to hear them <3

omg yeah. this may be an unpopular opinion but i’ve never really wanted any of the “fyodor isn’t human” theories to turn out bcz i really like him as human lmfao. 😭 or the he being centuries old LMAO no wonder he sometimes reminds me of muzan kibutsuji. niki said maybe “demon fyodor” is quite literal lol. but tbh i really wanted to see kid fedya—my bad i think i’m so biased by all the childhood bsfs to lovers i’ve read on here haha

exactly !! + they also did fukufuku’s entire scene so that the finale could cut out the entire sigma’s memories from it. (omg it’s so long idek if we’ll see my fav aku & atsushi by may LOL)

EXACTLY with the manipulation !! and the last panel too :< i didn’t think it could even be sadder than the anime but… :’)

okay current theories !! (light beast & dead apple spoilers)

i have a couple on wtf is going on with fyodor. my initial thought and what i still think is most reasonable is that he fornicated his memories with his(?) ability somehow beforehand because imo i find it crazy he actually let sigma look through his memories and just leave him there w/out taking extra precaution? then the time travel theory could be possible because the amenogozen exists…so it wouldn’t be that far off? 🤷🏻‍♀️ (can you tell i’m still in shock + don’t want to accept the immortality direction we’re currently going in)

this one which i’ve been thinking about for awhile !! (this is also my favorite one.) obviously fyodor is super smart, so i found it odd that dazai is the only one who knows about the multiverse. i pointed out how i was super nervous dazai implied he didn’t get something for once (him saying “i just don’t get it…”) and then @chuuyrr brought it up later, saying this could be how fyodor was one step ahead. he could’ve figured out about the multiple universes too (without dazai’s knowledge) + he was able to get his hands on one page of the book. also mentioning the scar he has in this chapter to further add to our theory.

finally…okay i’ll address it lol. in dead apple where fyodor gives his infamous “crime and punishment” speech, it implies there is a duality or separation of his ability (literally crime as one persona and punishment as another.) there are so many parallels to fyodor’s situation in this chapter—him with ace (conversation), the helicopter (stabbed with a metal rod/he is about to get speared.) so, it would make sense that some type of resurrection/not being able to die power could be part of his ability, even if we’ve seen that his ability is that he kills people with a touch. two parts.

anyways, those are my theories on specifically fyodor. honestly, all of them could be wrong. any previous assumption i had was already shattered by this chapter, so we’ll have to wait until april to see whether they’ll be mended or further disintegrated HAHA.

#.𖥔 ˖ qna #.* reverie’s loves (ˇᵋ ˇෆ #💌 p.o. send to: angel!#bsd spoilers #bsd manga spoilers #bsd theories

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cloveroctobers · 2 years

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The finale obviously inspired this via my previous post on this season. It’ll probably be my last shit talking post for S5 since it has provided me with nothing but headaches. LISTEN by no means am I a DJ or top notch editor I just thought of this idea and unfortunately nobody mashed these two tracks up for me—rightfully so! I had to take matters into my own hands and this shit was not as easy as I thought it would be. There’s completely different flows ofc with two different styles of music, what can you do? Do my best with what I got! 😉

I even tried to speed up Marina’s vocals at first but it was definitely giving Michael jackson and if I really wanted to be clowned I would have kept it that way. Yes I used the clean version to Meg’s, “plan b” right up to the end because S5 MC deserves to talk her shit! 👏🏽 I decided to put in the effort since I had the time tonight and will probably never do this again lmao so here it is off beat and all! MC’s — plan 2 be a heartbreaker 🥀 ☀️ (Meg Thee Stallion — Plan b x Marina (previously: & the diamonds) — How to be a heartbreaker

@/bobbymacs2

bobbymacs2: so yeah! This happened! I had the honor of being the first person from the love island franchise to hear @/mcs5 new track that she did for fun! I had no idea she had this talent. What we thinkin voyagers!?

View all comments

iamdanas5: Idek what to say about the lyrics but the beat is amazing! Why were you the first to hear it? Makes me wanna ride around in a drop top

• bobbymacs2: not surprised ur here first golden goddess! bts comes with its privileges! Also MC considers me a lad now. Glad u enjoyed it too! 👀

•. iamdanas5: what’s with the emoji?

•. bobbymacs2: u tell me…🏃‍♂️

•. iamdanas5: 🫤

itslulusloveisland: 🤭 I love it! Although unexpected…I Will be streaming 💛💕

•. bobbymacs2: MC’s been very unpredictable but stands in her truth. Gotta respect it! ✊🏽

arlofit: what kinda fuckery is this?

• bobbymacs2: chickens 🤷‍♂️

• arlofit: watch ur tongue

meerasweetisland: still a bit of a try hard I see.

• bobbymacs2: @/meerasweetisland Opp? 🧐

• meerasweetisland: @/bobbymacs2 what are you on about?

geezeralfie: this was a lot…certainly great but not sure this was the best choice. I’ll have to have a chat with MC soon about this 😅

•. meerasweetisland: @/geezeralfie for what it’s worth I hope she doesn’t bother with you either 🙂

•. geezeralfie: @/meerasweetisland I thought we were past this already? Hope you’re well, really Meera.

•. bobbymacs2: @/geezeralfie listen to Meera. Distance is there for a reason lad 👍🏾 !

•. geezeralfie: @/bobbymacs2 it also makes the heart grow fonder? We’re mates and we support each other. I will chat to see where MC’s head is at about all this…as soon as she’s not busy and picks up the phone 😬

•. bobbymacs2: @/geezeralfie whatever helps u sleep at nite!

eddieloveisland: I knew this was coming 😏! The universe told me so.

•. arlofit: shut it already will u?!

•. eddieloveisland: @/arlofit: that’s not quite nice. I’m not wrong! Are you upset that I was right about all of yous!?

•. eddieloveisland: have I been blocked?

•. bobbymacs2: ‘fraid so. You’ve got to work on that approach buddy! But C for effort!

sirjohnnys5: ☕️ is hot! Which line does everyone think is about me?

•. bobbymacs2: @/sirjohnnys5 “you’s a b-word?”

•. sirjohnnys5: @/bobbymacs2 excellent take! I was leaning towards the snitch line but that one works well too! I know exactly which lyrics are directed @/flightsuresh @/finntastic5 @/katatics

•. nicolasnics5: @/sirjohnnys5 luv this for us 🍿

•. sirjohnnys5: @/nicolasnics5 😉

•. arlofit: @/sirjohnnys5 @/nicolasnics5 you two are truly repulsive. You’re actually having a laugh about this…why? I see why the both of you will be lonely for awhile.

•. nicolasnics5: @/arlofit so that’s a no to coming round mine any time soon? Answer my DM’s queen!

•. arlofit: @/nicolasnics5 🖕🏾off not kindly.

finntastics: wow. I’m at a loss for words. I’m still hurt about how everything played out but this is just another dagger right to the heart. I’m aware things were not the easiest for MC but I just wish she would have communicated what she truly wanted if it wasn’t me in the end. Playing ‘round with my head but most importantly my heart was and is extremely wrong. I hope she heals that cold heart of hers soon and that we can all move forward.

•. bobbymacs2: @/finntastics5 firstly this was a bit of a reach. Not to say that you weren’t hurt during all of this…your feelings are valid certainly. Just don’t point the finger if you can’t take accountability for your actions too. People will react off YOUR actions. MC did. I originally thought you two could make it but watching the season again and getting to know MC better bts…I can see why it’s added up to all this. Why can’t you? Best of luck to you and Kat, lad.

•. finntastics5: @/bobbymacs5 with all due respect…I’m not sure what you’re chirping about? I loved MC since the first day we encountered but got easily distracted. I wanted things to work with kat but learned that we’re not meant to last. I tried to be loyal by taking everyone’s feelings (KAT, Alfie, & MC) instead of mine. I DEFENDED MC because I couldn’t stand her being hurt and painted as a bad person. I wont say that’s what she is now…I’m just confused she’s done me like this is all.

•. bobbymacs2: @/finntastics5 you’ll learn soon enough at the reunion if you choose to attend 👍🏾

flightsuresh: 😡 how bitter of her.

•. sirjohnnys5: @/flightsuresh “How you want a bitch that you don't deserve? I should have listened to my first mind, And told your ass "no" the first time. Tried to spare this—feelings, now he think he hurting mine.” It’s fitting for you, yeah?

•. flightsuresh: @/sirjohnnys5 quit spraffing

•. bobbymacs2: @/flightsuresh u win some u lose some 🤷

•. flightsuresh: @/bobbymacs2 I didn’t lose. I was chosen from the beginning. If it wasn’t for me, none of you would even be in her presence.

•. sirjohnnys5: @/flightsuresh and here I thought I had the biggest ego in the villa! Are you seeing this? @/nicolasnics5

•. nicolasnics5: I am @/sirjohnnys5 mates got to find himself a job and pull that stick outta his arse.

•. sirjohnnys5: @/nicolasnics5 I’m sure you can help him with that given your occupation, yeah?

•. flightsuresh: @/nicolasnics5 I’m a lawyer who’s positive that you and I are are nowhere near the same tax bracket. So why don’t you go back to…whatever it is that you do. Go touch grass before you think you can speak to me.

•. nicolasnics5: @/flightsuresh ah…you’re just as much as a arsehole as the rest of us. You’ve just got your ticket to hell too! I know how much you like storing objects away and never speaking on them. See you there🫡

katatics: I can’t believe I ever considered this person a friend! She’s done finnie and I the most wrong when we’ve been the best she’s ever had.

•. @/loveislandfan: now girl…shut that shit up.

•. @/lovdislandfan2: im sorry? Somebody roll the tapes for the delusional.

•. @/loveislandfan3: could have been much better to MC. You’ve got some real deep rooted issues and first you need to start working on that possessiveness,,, it’s not healthy boo

•. @/loveislandfan4: you’ve done nothing wrong! #justiceforkat I hope you and finnie get married soon!

•. iamdanas5: @/katatics let’s not start this over social media babes!

•. katatics: @/iamdanas5 SHE started it so I’m going to finish it! She’s done enough by embarrassing us in front of the world once but she won’t get a THIRD time. I promise you.

•. meerasweetisland: @/katatics I love you girlie. Can’t wait to see you shine like the star you are! Let’s get together soon? 🫶🏽

•. katatics: @/meerasweetisland well duh babes! My DMs are always open + you have my number just let me know & bring me some of your luscious shampoo 😘

•. arlofit: @/katatics @/meerasweetisland where’s my invite?

•. katatics: @/arlofit 💌!!! Teach me some moves in the ring soon?

•. MCs5: @/katatics that won’t help you. I’ll see you in a few months…oh and thanks for the stream 💋👅

•. iamdanas5: @/MCs5 🤭

iamdanas5: @/iamdanas5 @/MCs5 wait🫤

•. itsgabiland: @/iamdanas5 no you had it right the first time 🥶

wildpete: uh…what did I miss?

5 notes · View notes

roci-wolf · 10 months

Note

ROCI IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY I FORGOT 😭😭😭

but okay lemme go one by one by what i remember from what you said

i’m so sorry you’ve been going through a hard time. it isn’t easy when you feel like your mental health is failing. i know firsthand how hard it can be. but i’m so so proud of you for working on yourself and your mental health. and i’m glad you decided to take a break for yourself. i hope the break has been fruitful!

and gosh i’m so sorry about your bunny :( it can’t be easy. my cats go play around away from the garden for a bit and i freak out when i don’t see them around. so i can’t imagine how terrible it must be.

but AHHHHH NEW KITTYYYYYY!!!! so excited!!! did you get the kitty already? what’d you name it? what kind of cat is it??? heheh i love cats and i’m so excited for you!!

i’m proud you’re working on your self esteem and i get that sometimes the stuff we want comfort from most tend to become the most stressful because we’re in a bad place and the magic and comfort just doesn’t feel the same and it just… ultimately feels worse cause it feels like you lost something very important to you :(

but i hope slowly you can return. i miss seeing you on here and i miss your lil asks and your opinions on my random posts jshdjsjdjsk but no pressure! take your time and i hope you feel better soon 💛💛💛 and i’ll be here~ with a bunch of comfort fics if you wanna ever read em hehe

nooo don't worry, i don't frequently check my notifs anyway so i didn't notice 😭

yeah, my biggest problem was getting out of survival mode, i am the avoidant type of person so it's very hard for me to deal with anything in my life that's out of my comfort zone, but i finally stepped up and started to figure things out. ofc it's still hard and because i've been focusing solely on survival for so long i don't really know what i want from life anymore?? but i am proud i can at least relax a bit more and i can give time to myself to think and reflect. thank you for the words~ you're so kind

yeah, i kinda got used to the idea that i'll never see my bunny again and i'm consoling myself with the thought that she's in a much better place now and that she's hopping happily without my cat bothering her lol 💗

unfortunately smth came up so i can't pick up the cat yet. i'm actually getting him from my friend bcs her cat gave birth a few month ago and she's giving me one of her kitties, but i have to wait 2 more weeks till i can finally get him. also, because i'm getting it from my friend, i actually don't know its breed 🤣 my friend doesn't know the exact breed of her cat and the dad is unknown (lol), so i can't tell for sure, but the mom is a combination of a tabby with some other fancy breed that i cannot recognise. it has many orange spots of her coat mixed with the regular tabby colors, does that make sense?? but he kitty i'm adopting has a dark coat with no orange spots at all. it looks like a tabby, but much darker than usual, idek how to explain 😭

ALSO i actually SUCK at giving pets names 😭😭 i always get overwhelmed bcs it feels like such a big responsibility to me so i always collect ideas from other people. sooo if you have any cool male cat names in mind 👀👀 i'm more than glad to hear

yeah, that's exactly how it feels with comfort places 😭😭 that's why i got away from tumblr a little bit, i didn't want it to start feeling like a 'responsibility' or like something i needed to do, i tend to do that with my hobbies sometimes and it makes them unenjoyable. i also stopped writing for a while and opening tumblr was reminding me about that and it made me feel a little guilty haha

but! it's summer vacation now and things are moving in the right direction (in my opinion at least) so who knows.

aw, THANK YOU, TI, you're so sweet 🥹🥹 i miss sending asks and answering on random stuff too 😭 i am glad i was not an annoyance with those lol

and!!! i actually do want to read what you've been posting since i disappeared 👀 is there anything you'd recommend me to read first??

#roci's ✉️#sulfurcosmos

0 notes

cno-inbminor · 3 years

Text

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings: DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him. It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,” he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #childe angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #this fic maybe took two years off my life

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

“never heard of that rule before.” kim jennie looks at him with an elaborated twist of her eyebrows to show the utter confusion and absurdity she finds in his words.

“yeah, well, now you know,” jeongguk winks.

it’s either because of the man’s flirtatious advancements or because she really needs to go to the bathroom, that she stands up, pick up the shirt and the only piece of article she’s taken off and walks towards the cars. somewhere a few feet away, the lights of the convenience store and closed diner illuminates the area.

jisoo shoots you a look that you shoot back with another look of determination. if there’s anything you’d never be caught dead doing, it’s raising the white flag before jeon jeongguk does.

so she ends up chasing after jennie on her own.

“anyone else wanna be loser?” jeongguk asks, vanity apparent in his voice.

you wonder how it’s not shivering in the cold with how he’s stripped naked to his boxers.

“i need to get some water,” seokjin announces and struts towards the direction the girls were headed.

he’s one of the lucky few that managed to keep his clothes on throughout the game.

it’s become an unspoken knowledge that the ones who backed out will go home in seokjin’s jeep.

there’s only you, taehyung, jimin, jeongguk and yoongi.

namjoon was the first to leave because his girlfriend called him crying for some reason and he’s the kind of man that would come running to his girl. somewhere in your heart, you feel a tinge of jealousy for chaeyoung for having such an amazing man who loves her to the moon and back.

“this is getting boring.” jimin confesses for the second time of the night, bringing the bottle to his plump lips.

“let’s play 7 minutes in heaven.” jeongguk suggests, “we’re all bored here.”

“but there’s just one girl...” jimin murmurs to himself.

“so? you can make out with one of us,” taehyung winks.

but jimin’s shyly looking down and smiling is the last thing you expect to see. he’d usually just brush off his best friend’s advancements by laughing or flirting back but never speechless.

“alright, here’s the bottle,” jeongguk says afer gulping down the whole content of the beer and lifting the opaque glass in the air, “game’s simple, it’s like spin the bottle but instead of making out, you spend 7 minutes in one of the cars.”

“no –not my car,” jimin complains, throwing his head back, probably recalling that time when he lent jeaongguk his car and in the morning, started blowing everyone’s phone up by spamming the group chat, sending death threats to jeongguk for those stains in the back seat.

“i’m out.” yoongi says simply, but doesn’t move from his spot which is sitting on the log between taehyung and jimin.

his porcelain skin is painted auburn from the fire in front of him. he raises the beer to his mouth and starts downing it.

“ugh okay, okay, how about just making out here for 7 minutes?” jeongguk mediates.

that receives a moderate response of ‘not-so-thrilled-but-not-against-it’ kind of nod.

jeongguk places the bottle down on the ground and yoongi plainly points, “that’s not how physics work.”

“shh,” the younger man shushes him up, “it’s gonna work.”

then he spins the bottle just a few centimeters above the sand. the opaque bottle spins in the air for the briefest moment before it lands on the grainy sand, it’s top pointed straight at you.

“okay, so me and ___ are the first pair.” he grins, excitement flashing across his eyes.

jimin goes next, mimicking jeongguk’s techniques and the bottle points at yoongi. all of a sudden, a strangled silence settles in.

the elder man makes an impressed nod –probably surprised at how things turned out.

“okay, tae, you spin the bottle and if falls on me or ___, you can join us and if it falls on jimin or yoongi, you can join them.” jeongguk says as if he’s done this plenty of times before.

you attempt to pick up your shirt when jeongguk clicks his tongue and wiggles his index finger in the air, “nu-uh, the game’s still going on, you put on any of the clothes you’re not supposed to have on, and you’re out.”

“that’s a dumb rule and i’m cold.” you roll your eyes and slip on your shirt anyway.

your nipples appear more protruded underneath that thin layer of material but it’s better than having to cover them with your arm.

jeongguk groans but doesn’t say anythng else as taehyung picks up the bottle and spins it.

in the end, you have a pair and a trio.

since taehyung is right next to you, crash your onto with his. it takes him a moment to register that the seven minutes start now before he swipes his tongue over your lower lip and you let him in, tasting the bitter beer in his mouth while he suckles on your tongue.

you expect taehyung to play along for the first few minutes and let jeongguk and you have a go at it. but the proactive advancements aren’t unwelcomed.

“hey! come on!” jeongguk whines somewhere in a distance –he’s sat across from you.

it doesn’t take long to make his way over and starts kissing your shoulder, sitting on the vacant end of the log. it’s the hand that snakes under your shirt and gropes your breast that makes you moan into taehyung’s mouth.

jeongguk pinches your nipple almost painfully, as if getting payback for starting without him.

when you don’t budge and wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck, he stops his assault on your sensitive buds and slips his hand under your panties. you gasp, body frozen from the unannounced intrusion and he takes that chance to turn your face to him, capturing your lips.

taehyung sighs softly, as if foreseeing that jeongguk would sweep you away from him. and you thought it the end of that.

but instead, you feel more slander fingers than jeongguk’s on your other breast that jeongguk didn’t touch. they’re gentle and handle you like you’re a delicate porcelain doll.

and like you said, taehyung’s touches aren’t unwelcomed.

that, paired with jeongguk’s careless fingers on your clit, easily makes you moan out in pleasure as sparks course through your veins, stars behind your eyes, your arm around jeongguk’s neck and your mouth tore away from his.

jeongguk lets out a low whistle as caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion and stops when your hand grasps his wrist, telling him you need a break.

“wait, out here? dude, you can’t be serious,” taehyung lowly cautions as jeongguk shifts behind.

you barely get to focus your eyes after coming down from your high, noticing the two men making out behind taehyung where you last saw them. yoongi’s hand is in jimin’s pants.

“baby, can i put it in?” jeongguk’s voice is uncharacteristically silken and sweet.

it doesn’t take a genius why.

you throw a glance over your shoulder to see him pumping himself, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

“no, i want tae’s.” you say vindictively.

“what – “ the aforementioned man’s eyes widen, skin appearing olive gold next to the fire.

“may i, tae tae?” you smile, fluttering your lashes and smiling coquettishly as you caress him through his pants. just like jimin, he only lost his shirt in the earlier game.

his adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your offer but spreads his legs open as though welcoming your touch.

“i...” he says thickly, “i don’t have a condom on me...”

“it’s fine, i’m on birth control,” you shrug, lips still curled into a suave, inviting smile.

then his head shakes in the smallest nod.

“yeah?” you ask, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in an innocent gesture.

“yeah,” he echoes your words, eyes screwing shut, “please.”

it takes you close to no difficulty to take him out. you ravel in his size –he’s possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. taking him in your mouth, you let jeongguk pull you panties to the side and slip his tip past your entrance. he groans, appreciating your warmth while you coat taehyung’s length with your saliva.

once you’re sure taehyung’s all ready to take you, you lift yourself up, earning a whine from jeongguk whose closed eyes shoot open as if he just woke up from a delightful dream and crashed into reality. you lower yourself onto taehyung, humming in appreciation like jeongguk did as the taller man stretches you out to fit his size.

once you’re sat on his lap and taking him to the hilt, only then do you pay attention to jeongguk who’s directing your hand to wrap around his length.

you start to move your hips, appreciating each delicious graze of taehyung’s length stretching and molding you to fit his size while pumping jeongguk’s shaft and lowering your mouth to wrap around his tip.

“i’m close,” taehyung murmurs breathily, his hand ghosting over your hips as though barely fighting against his primal urges to grab your hips and move you to his desirred tempo.

“you can come inside,” you say, tearing your mouth away from jeongguk for the briefest moment to throw your head to meet taehyung’s hooded gaze.

“please, can i cum inside you too? after tae?” jeongguk asks, knowing full well that he’s walking on thin ice with you.

“no.” you deny curtly, making sure to shoot him a glare to emphasize your disapproval.

“fuck,” taehyung’s voice cuts through the night as he’s pushed to his limit. those large hands dig into your skin as he bounces your ass on his lap the way he wants it.

and you let him. moaning against jeongguk’s tip as your brain shortcircuits. you barely notice the way jeongguk’s thrusting his length down your throat –much deeper than you’d allow him, just because you’re not a fan of his arrogance but also can’t completely resist it.

once you and taehyung stop moving, jeongguk easily lifts you up from taehyung’s lap and place you down on his.

“jeongguk,” you say warning, not at all pleased that he handled you like a ragdoll but can’t help the way you tighten around him –he’s winning in girth compared to taehyung.

“don’t move –i promise i won’t come inside you, just please let me feel you around me,” jeongguk’s basically begging as he hugs you close to him –it’s probably to get you to stop any inch of movement but your stomach is fluttering and your cheeks are immeasurably hot.

you bite your lower lip from moaning.

while he’s holding you so tight, your clit is rubbing against him and you’ve got the fattest dick inside you.

there’s no way you can sit still.

you move your hip in a circular motion, the groan coming from jeongguk’s lips being music to your ears.

“fine,” you push the mated hair from his face when he pulls away from your shoulder and looks at you in the eye, they appear to be twinkling in the flicker of the flames, “you can come inside.”

the last thread of his sanity seems to snap. he lays you down on your back and because the log isn’t long enough for that, you end up having your head laid on taehyung’s thigh, his just-cummed dick still out in the open. every time jeongguk thrusts inside you, you end up brushing against it.

taehyung, having lost his reserves about sex in public, smiles down at you and places a hand underneath your head to support you while his friend is thrusting in and out of you like a mad man who’s never tasted a woman in his entire life.

eventually, taehyung, the moans and the squelching sounds disappear into a blurred mess. you don’t know where you start and where jeongguk ends.

when you come to, you’re staring at the starless night sky, breathing heaving into steady breaths as you feel satisfaction tingles in between your legs. a mixture of jeongguk and taehyung’s cums pour out of you and onto your stained panties.

and in the peaceful cackles of the bon fire and the sound of waves crashing, a shadow blocks your view.

“uh, ___,” jimin says hesitantly.

“hm?” you look up at the man with his length out –he’s probably the shortest compared to taehyung and jeongguk but his girth could give the latter a run for his money.

“we got turned on looking at you guys,” jimin stammers, cheeks flushed while yoongi stands next to him, stroking himself to the sight of your glistening and naked body.

“come here,” you giggle, pushing yourself up.

“let me,” taehyung whispers, sending shivers down your spine as he holds out his hand for you to use as a support.

you don’t realize how spent you are until you decide to stand up but almost go tumbling into the ground again a second later. you would’ve faceplanted into the sand if taehyung hadn’t caught you. he helps you to sit on his lap and holds both your legs up.

your panties are now discarded on the ground while sticky, white cum drips out of you freely and park jimin’s got a front row view of that.

you should be embarrassed but the last of your braincell’s got fucked out of you by jeongguk who’s now passed out on the sand, snoring away like he’s got no care in th world.

jimin’s face is beat red as he slips right inside you. it would’ve taken more teasing if you were to take him without jeongguk and taehyung’s jizz dripping out of you.

“you mind if i give you head instead?” you ask the elder man.

“not at all,” yoongi shrugs but that unbothered facade comes crumbling down like sand castle as soon as you wrap your lips around him, hand covering where your mouth can’t reach.

well, you can, but deepthroating’s jeongguk’s made you too tired to take another man deeper than you do now.

you sigh softly when jimin starts moving. he’s gentle with his strokes, as if making sure you’re gradually getting used to him. probably because he knows he’s thicker than the average men. and jimin being jimin, will probably make sure all his partners are comfortable (how ever comfortable you can be butt naked in the open and with sand sticking to your soles and exposed flesh.

but all that easily melts away as jimin hits that one spot that gets you throwing your head back on taehyung’s shoulder. even when he goes faster, he’s still attentive of your reactions and actions.

you’re not sure how he can read you when it’s covered in yoongi’s cum. he’s the fastest to cum out of all the four boys. somewhere in your mind, you thank the universe for giving you a fast and easy blow.

when yoongi steps away, you shift your focus to jimin, “i’m coming,” you murmur.

it takes a few strokes more for you come at the same time, jimin throwing his head back, barely moaning out. it’s as though his reservations still cling onto him and stops him from losing himself.

jimin pulls out with a sigh, legs barely able to stand so he tumbles back to one of those empty logs and zips himself up.

just when you’re about to pull your legs together, all of a sudden, conscious of how exposed and naked you are –taehyung’s hand stops you.

“taehyung...” you murmur, cheeks burning at the way you’re spread and bare with multiple men’s cum dripping down your ass.

but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his fingers down your stomach and slips two of them past your entrance, coating those slender digits with the cum inside you.

his motion starts picking up and until he’s thrusting his fingers inside you like he would his dick. you’re grasping his arm and biting your lips at the sudden yet different rush of pressure you’ve had up until now. with the pleasure jimin left you, it doesn’t take long for it to built up in the pit of your stomach and spreads through your body likes the waves against the shore.

the rest that follows is a blur. you remember foregoing your undergarments and slipping on your jeans and shirt before having taehyung sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car.

“t-tae! i can walk!” you try to protest but he simple chuckles.

“you can barely stand.”

you can only cast your eyes to his collarbones –anywhere besides his eyes as you recall the throbbing sensation between your legs.

jeongguk, having been kicked to wake by yoongi, scampers to stand up and follow the three of you. he falls a step behind and complains the whole way to the car, saying something about “can do that too”.

whatever that is.

when you reach your home, the lights in the living room are still on and you’re quite literally screwed.

“come on, i’ll help you to the porch,” jeongguk says ever so casually as he undes the safety belt.

yet something instinctual makes you hurl out words of rejection right there and there despite your brain telling you that you’ll barely make it three steps out of the door without crashing against the ground.

“no, i’m good.” you huff, swigging the car door open yet you hear another car door open and the sound of feet hurriedly shuffling over and in no time, jeongguk’s arm is around yours.

“i don’t need your help,” you hiss under your breath despite the relief that floods your system from jeongguk’s support.

“what are the chances of your parents letting you coming back past curfew slide because the face they saw walking you up to the porch is mine?” he makes a compelling argument.

before you can even refute, the front door swings open to your father’s glum expression. though his face lights up like christmas light as soon as he sees the man next to you.

“jeongguk! well, i’ll be damned,” your father beams, hands on his hips, “i didn’t know you two made up.”

“evening, mr. ___,” jeongguk nods in greeting, pretending not to hear the last part.

“thanks for walking me,” you say, strained.

gathering all that’s left of your might you take a step forward and out of his arm to stand next to your dad, waiting for him to leave.

“did someone say jeongguk?” your mother comes running from the couch, “oh, how’s your mother? is she well?”

“yeah. too well, actually. she’s been into yoga lately, keeps saying she’ll be able to beat me in arm wrestling,” jeongguk chuckles, scuffing his sole against the ground, hands buried inside his pocket.

“yeah, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” you cut in.

your parents seem to take the hint, your mother wishing him a one last, “tell minhee i said hi, yeah, son?”

“will do,” he smiles, eyes travelling to yours only to have him drop his gaze. “have a good evening mr. ___, mrs. ___.”

then he’s walking back to the car where you can see taehyung waving his hand from the passenger seat. only then, does an actual smile curve on your lips as you wave back, pretending not to notice the slouch in jeongguk’s figure.

that’s the last you talk to jeongguk privately. sometimes, when you’re texting in the group chat, you can’t help but reply to his dumb memes. yoongi and you exchange music in private message while you and jimin are ‘best friends’ on snapchat and you occasionally reply to taehyung’s insta story.

no one spoke of that night.

it’s as if it never happened.

the girls asked about it but you simply brush it off, “oh we had some drinks and decide to go home because it wasn’t fun with half of the squad not around.”

they don’t believe it.

but they don’t push it either.

but they probably thought you made a mistake and that mistake having something to do with your summer fling slash childhood friend, jeon jeongguk.

part of it was true.

except you fucked half of the boys in your group of friends.

it’s a month later, did you get a text from jeongguk on one ordinary friday night, after coming home from work. after going back to seoul.

jk: hey

jk: me and taehyung are going out for a drink

jk: since we live ten minutes away do you wanna come?

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #bts smut #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #yoongi scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts fics #jungkook fics #yoongi fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfics #taehyung fanfics #jimin fics #taehyung fics

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thicksimpx · 2 years

Text

❦ ❦ - Alexis & Saitama (late but happy birthday bitch 😂🤎 @luffysthickwaifu )

Alexis and Saitama have a lazy weekend- what better way to start the morning than to take a scroll down memory lane🌚

Warnings : as always my content is 18+ Idek why I have to say it😐 , mature content, mature language ,mentions of stalking and obsession, drunk sex , attempted breeding, established relationship

“Hey” Alexis rolls over to lay on Saitama chest. “Remember how we met?”

“Yeah” he pulls her closer.

“I never thought I would meet my crush in person- let alone be lying in bed with them every night. Maybe fate is real”

“Yeah.. fate” he trails off thinking back to that faithful day.

—

“Uuuuahhah- “Saitama hears a hearty gasp behind him. Ignoring it obviously, it’s someone else’s problem he was just here to get his onigiri and go home.

“Yes bitch! It is him. I know his head from anywhere oh my god” he hears the woman try to whisper behind him. “No, I’m not going to say anything, I need to get the fuck up out of her- fine fine”

“Excuse me” he sighs feeling a tap on his shoulder. “You’re the capped baldy right?”

Turning around to face the unknown woman, his eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting to see a grown woman, let alone one so beautiful. Her golden skin shinning, almost glistening in the dimly lit store from the setting Sun peeking through the glass windows.

“Uh - please call me Saitama” he says placing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Okay.. Saitama” she smiles brightly, he flinched, his heart started beating hard- was he dying?

. “I never expected to run into you here or anywhere actually, you’re so fine- I. My bad.” She pauses. “I’m Alexis, just a big fan of yours. Mind if I take a picture to show my friend it was really you?”

“I gue- “before he could fully respond she snapped the pictures and immediately went on her phone mumbling to herself. ‘Nai is going to scream- I met my man ahah bitch’

Her man? Like as in we’re dating. “Um excuse me- Alexis?”

“Oop sorry! I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Don’t take me seriously. I know you’re not my man- it’s just that’s what I call men I lik- you know what never mind. I’m sure you have better things to be doing” she waves her hands brushing past him to the self-checkout to pay for her things- headache medicine and some water.

Zoned out, Saitama just watched as she checked out and left the store, ‘she said she likes me’ he mumbles quickly throwing some coins on the counter, grabbing his bag, and carefully following her.

‘I’m a hero, a-and it’s dangerous out here. it’s okay to make sure she gets home safe right? He reasoned with himself about why there was no harm in his actions. As he follows her thick frame, he couldn’t help but admire her backside, he made up scenarios - what would happen if I saved her right now? Would she hug me? Would I get to touch her? ‘

“Saitama?” He hears her call out to him. Shit play it cool.

“Hey! Alexis right?” He asks tilting his head

“Yup! I would’ve never thought you lived around this way, maybe I’ll see you more often” she giggles entering her building “get home safe well I don’t need to tell you that right “he watches as her laugh and body fades with the closing door.

“More often?” He questions himself turning on his heals back into the direction of the store. ‘Genos must be worried.’ He sighs look up at the sky. Today was a good day for once.

——

He laid there listening to her talk about how they met and how fate must be real based all the moments they ran into each other. “Some higher being wanting them together” is what she called it. But - little did she know…

Every day following that, Saitama found ways to run into Alexis, whether it was at the store the met- to which he learned she visited every day after work. Or if it was on the walk home from the store where he feigned coming from a different direction. Until it came to a point where she opened to him- she talked to him like they were friends- she called him her man so he didn’t understand why he would see other men coming over he place when he hung on the roof at night.

He didn’t understand why she would need to vent and want comfort from him when they would disappear and not call after their night together. Why couldn’t she just want him? Like she said? He removed everyone that wasn’t him- what was taking so long? Did she lie?

—-

“Remember that night you got drunk and called me?” He asks laughing lowly.

“Yes, please don’t remind me! you know I’m not a drinker.”

“Well, it was a good night for me” he shrugs

“I bet” she says sitting up and getting out of bed “come on let get something coffee”

—-

It was a good night - even though Alexis had called him seemingly drunk out of her mind beginning for him to pick her up while also screaming “I know the capped baldy; he will fuck all of y’all up” to the people in her background.

He picked her up and took her home, she asked him to stay- promising she’ll sober up after a shower. Leaving him alone he took the chance to finally explore her apartment, slowly making his way to her bedroom.

“Sai— “Alexis calls from the doorway of her room eying his hands on the handles of her underwear draw.

“I-uh” he stumbles over his words not knowing how to escape the situation. Instead, Alexis does it for him, dropping the towel and trailing over to him. His eyes were glued to her, body still dripping wet from the shower, her curls sticking to her face and her glossy brown eyes burning a hole through his forehead.

“Shut up and get on the bed” she says seductively pushing him back until he falls over on the bed. “Oh, I forgot to tell you- no outside clothes on my bed” in stiff motions he hand his pants around his ankles and was straddling his lap tugging his hoodie over his head. Throwing it into the corner she smashed her lips onto his, “tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop right now”

Breathlessly, Saitama smashes his lips back together flipping them over, tugging his dick through the hole on his briefs, and sinking into her cunt.

To them, What felt like hours of him pounding into her, was only minutes. He hasn’t had sex in so long he came in 20 minutes, fill her cunt to the brim with her clenching so tight around him he thought his dick would break.

Standing to kick off his briefs, preparing for round two, he hears light snoring. Alexis fell asleep immediately after - he didn’t know if he should be insulted or proud. He threw a blanket over her and laid on the floor Next to her bed until the next morning - hopefully she doesn’t regret it

“SAITAMA!!” Alexis screams waking him to what could only be a nightmare, so he pulls the banker over him and pretends to sleep, maybe she’ll go away. “get your ass up” she yells kicking him and snatching the blanket clean off his body.

“Oh, hey good morning” he fakes a yawn and a stretch.

“Did you nut in me last night?!”

“You remember” he smiles lovingly

“Yes I remember Dumbass”

“I promise to take care of our baby” he sits up on his knees bowing.

“there's no baby dummy, I was just asking. but don’t do that shit again”

Lifting his head, he smiles and nods - watching Alexis as her ass giggles out the room knocking over a cup on the desk by the door. Knowing full and well he was going to do it again, anything to keep her by his side, she belonged to him now.

—-

snapping out of his thoughts he realized what she said and immediately throws the covers and jumps out of bed running behind her. “No coffee isn’t good for the baby”

“What fucking baby? Why do you keep saying that? Boy come on and stop playing”

#saitama #moot selfship #Happy Birthday Alexis 🤎#one punch man #one punch man saitama #Saitama x alexis

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Sorry for your loss - “I will move on” #04

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

Chapter Four - I will move on

"And I guess that's about it." You say as you finish telling Agatha about your last few weeks. She smiles as she shakes her head.

"I have to say I am proud of you." She comments gesturing briefly with her hands. "Are you sure you don't want to add anything else?"

You shrug, unable to remember anything relevant that you haven't mentioned.

You told her about writing again, about trying to drive again. About helping Wanda to stay home without having panic attacks, and to go back to work. You had only managed to drive in the supermarket parking lot, but it was still progress, and Stephen was very happy to hear it about too. The only thing missing to get your life back to normal was your apartment. And you had already arranged with Wanda to visit later that week.

"I have two questions for you then." Agatha says when you confirm that you have nothing to add. "Don't you think it's time to try to reconnect with your friends?"

You hesitate, thoughtfully.

"I don't know." You said slightly uncomfortable. "My friends weren't just mine. They were Nat's friends too. And then she died, and I isolated myself. And well, I guess they were in their own grief too, because none of them tried to look for me anymore."

"You took your time to heal." She says. "Maybe they took theirs too. And now might be the time to reconnect."

You sigh, looking away.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." You speak. You look back at Agatha a moment later. "What was the other question?"

Agatha hides a small smile.

"A sensitive topic for patients who lose their beloved lovers." She says and you frown in confusion. "Well, dear, I need to ask if you are trying to date again?"

You gasp in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

"W-what?"

Agatha lets out a giggle.

"I know this may seem insensitive at first, and that's more because of the sexist socioeconomic construct that treats widowed women as violated property that must belong to their lover for the rest of their lives than anything else but I need you to understand that it's perfectly natural to move on." She narrates and you just stand there with a shocked expression and your heart racing. "You are a single woman now, and you have sexual and emotional human needs. I'm going to help you work through any kind of guilt, because judging your progress, you seem ready to be in a relationship again."

"I...I don't..."

"Don't worry, honey." Agatha interrupts with a giggle. "I'm not telling you to go around fornicating." She jokes. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. But I don't think it's really your style at all."

You feel your face heat up, frowning at Agatha, but she continues to speak.

"Anyway, I'm saying that it will be good if you get back into romantic relationships with other people. Casual encounters, that sort of thing. You are allowed to love someone again, there's nothing wrong with that." She explains getting up toward her own desk, and then gives a mischievous little smile in your direction. "Not to mention that orgasms are great stress relievers."

You choke in surprise, but Agatha just smiles, turning to write the appointment report.

Your face is still very red when you leave her office.

//-//

"I'm going to make a gardener out of you yet, huh?" Monica joked as you finished composting, making you laugh lightly.

"Well, I had a good teacher." You joked back as you stood up.

You were at Wanda's flower shop again. It became routine for you to help Monica with the garden and the flowers. And as the days went by, you got used to being in the greenhouses while she was attending to customers and Wanda was working in the office. It took two weeks for Monica to start joking that you had become a staff member at the flower shop. You don't really mind helping out. Botany has turned out to be something surprisingly relaxing for you. The hours of Wanda's shift passed by quickly when you keep your hands busy with the plants and flowers, your anxiety long forgotten.

"Are you hungry?" Monica asks as soon as you return to the store's front desk, and she pulls out the " break" sign tucked under the counter.

"Sure."

"Let's take a lunch break. See if Wanda wants to join us while I attend that boy." Monica says looking forward toward the window display. There is a boy clearly unsure about whether or not to enter the store and you exchange a chuckle with her before heading towards Wanda's office.

She is on the phone when she answers the door for you, and signals with her finger in her mouth for you not to say anything as she makes room for you to enter. As she mumbles in agreement on the call, you look around. She seems to be working on the organization of some big event judging by the whiteboard in the corner filled with notes, and you figure it's a party or some wedding, because you and Monica have been growing more flowers for this kind of thing lately.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." You listen to her speak as she jots down a few things in an agenda. " Don't worry, we have enough for the engagement party and the ceremony."

The shelf on the side in front of the whiteboard catches your attention, and you walk over to the furniture next.

Wanda moves a little behind you, adding some stickers to the whiteboard. You keep looking at the bookshelf, distracted by the objects on it. There is a picture of the twins that makes you smile, some books, and other small pots of plants. You lightly caress the bonsai before looking down.

You run your fingers over the red flower on Wanda's bookshelf, trying to remember the name. Monica has taught you many things, but you don't know many as well.

"Anthurium" Wanda whispers behind you, as she turns off her cell phone and realizes that you are looking at the flower with curiosity. You murmur in understanding, turning to make comment that it is very beautiful, but your speech dies in your throat when you realize how close Wanda is. "What did you want?" She asks curiously and you are almost leaning your body against the bookshelf, trying to think clearly.

"I-I came to ask if you want to have lunch with us." You say while mentally telling yourself not to look at Wanda's lips.

Wanda murmurs in understanding, and you can barely breathe when she stands even closer, her hand outstretched to something above your head. She pulls out a small stick caught in your hair, and all you can do is stare at her with a racing heart as she bites back a smile, and tosses the stick into one of the vases on the shelf behind you.

"I'd like to join you, but I'm busy." She says and her gaze falls to your lips for a second before she turns her head away and walks off. You let out a breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants as Wanda walks toward the table in search of the notepad and pen she was using before hanging up her cell phone. "Can you please bring me something to eat? I'm starving. I just don't know exactly what I want..."

You smile as you see Wanda's thoughtful expression with pen and notebook in hand. You approach, putting the notebook down with your hand gently.

"Don't worry, I know what you like." You say simply, and Wanda blinks in surprise, smiling awkwardly. "I'll stop by that confectionery shop you like and also bring you a dessert, okay? You look stressed."

Wanda laughs lightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks, love."

The nickname slips so naturally from her lips that it takes a moment for both of you to realize what has just been said. Your gaze falls to Wanda's mouth the same minute that her pupils dilate. You are almost breaking the distance when Monica opens the door, not noticing the closeness of the two of you because she has her gaze on a piece of paper in her own hands.

You and Wanda immediately turn away, embarrassed.

"We have a big order, girls." She announces excitedly, raising her eyes to you. Monica frowns slightly at the guilty expressions and reddened faces. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." You answer in unison quickly, surprising Monica again, who acquires an expression of suspicion and humor. You clear your throat and Wanda lets out a short laugh.

"We were just talking about lunch." You say. "And well, Wanda has a big order too. I guess you guys will need my help then."

Wanda turns to you again with this statement.

"What? No, I can't make you work for me..."

You interrupt with a laugh.

"Wanda, don't even start." You say. "I love staying here. And I'm happy to help, really. Don't worry about it."

"You sure make my shifts more fun." Adds Monica with a smile, making you laugh. Wanda looks at you intently.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and you smile as you nod in agreement. "We'll talk about it later. You can't work for free, and if you're going to help you need a schedule, and breaks and chores."

You laugh, nodding.

"Yes, boss." You murmur playfully and Wanda pats your arm, making you and Monica laugh.

"Let's get our lunch now, I'm starving." Monica orders as she turns to walk out the door. You murmur in agreement, and quickly kiss Wanda on the cheek before following the other woman. Wanda has a foolish smile on her face until you return with her lunch many minutes later.

//-//

You call Carol Danvers the day before you return to your apartment.

Things go much better than you expected, but it's not surprising, because you usually expect the worst case scenario.

Carol is very happy to hear from you, and you are happy to know that she doesn't hate you for not calling before. You talk for a few minutes, but she can't talk much on the phone because her shift is about to start. You are surprised to learn that she is working in a nightclub downtown now, unlike months ago when she worked in a rock bar in Queens.

She tells you that Bruce was traveling because of his internship, but that he would be in town for the weekend, and invites you to visit her at work. You hesitate because you are not sure if you are ready to go to a club, but you accept as you think of Agatha's words about reconnecting with your friends again.

You are the one who drives to your apartment the next day, after you and Wanda leave the flower shop. Your heart is racing the whole time, but Wanda rests her hand on your thigh to calm you down, and as the minutes go by, you can no longer tell whether you are nervous about the trauma or something else.

Parking in the small condo cluster, you take a deep breath. Wanda gives your thigh one last squeeze before she pulls her hand away and gets out of the car, completely oblivious to the way your entire body trembles at her touch. Shaking your head slightly to push that kind of thought away, you step out of the car.

Your hands are shaking wildly as you take your keys out of your pockets, just as you reach the second floor, after you have politely waved to the people who recognized you on the way to your apartment.

"Hey, breathe." Wanda asks softly beside you. And you take a deep breath, and it helps. And then you turn the key, and go inside.

It is exactly the same as the last time you were here, many months ago, on the day of the accident.

Your mother cleaned it up, of course, but it is still the same. Everything is in the exact same place, even the shoes that Nat left lying in the corner of the bookshelf. And you felt your chest tighten when the flashes of memory began.

You walked around, looking at the surroundings while Wanda followed you. A few tears streamed down your face, but you said nothing.

You were in the kitchen when the first sob escaped your throat. Leaning your hands on the counter, you dropped your keys and tried to push away the memories that were clear in your head.

It was as if you could feel Nat in the room. Seeing her in the armchair, laughing at your jokes, or being a disaster in the kitchen on nights when you tried to eat something homemade. Her books mixed in with yours on the bookshelf, your wedding and graduation pictures on the mantelpiece.

You moved away from the counter quickly, however, as Wanda looked at you intently, unsure whether to approach or not. Walking down the hallway, you stopped in front of your bedroom door.

And you stood there. Long minutes staring at the wood. Unable to move.

Feeling arms around your waist, you sighed, your body relaxing considerably.

Wanda hugged you from behind, and waited. You were crying again, and you only stopped after a while. Taking a deep breath, and lightly stroking Wanda's hand to ask her to let go, you waited for her to let go of you to open the door.

Wanda waited for you outside. You just walked around the room, your face wet as you breathed with difficulty, your arms crossed as if you were afraid to touch anything.

When you came out, you took a deep breath once more. And then you said you needed to call your mother.

That's how you spent the rest of the day packing up your apartment together with Wanda, your mother, and Pietro and Monica, who came to help after Wanda said you needed more people.

You came back the other day too, until the only things left were larger pieces of furniture.

"Are you sure you're going to sell?" Your mother asked you in the parking lot as soon as you left there in the late afternoon. Wanda had just gone home with her brother and sister-in-law.

"That was her apartment, Mom." You say as you put the boxes in the trunk. "I could never live here without Natasha."

"It's a good property." She comments, making you chuckle lightly.

"I'm sure the next owners will love it."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, dear. It's just a nice apartment, not the kind of thing you get every day and..."

"Are you wanting to keep it by any chance?" You interrupt, irritated at your mother's lack of sensitivity. She sighs, and you frown.

"No. But maybe someone else wants to."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she is implying.

"You know Nat didn't talk to her family."

Your mother looks away.

"Actually..." She begins and you close the trunk with a confused expression, "I've been seeing Melina since January."

You blink in surprise, and then let out a dry laugh.

"I am speechless." You say in shock. "You...are you serious? Wow, I...wow."

You lean back against the car, impressed and annoyed. Your mother sighs guiltily, stepping in front of you again.

"Look, I know I should have had something, but you were so..."

"Sad? Yeah mom, my wife died, I had a right to be."

"That's not what I meant."

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, I know." You grumble. "But it sucks that you kept it from me. What the hell does Melina want anyway?"

Your mother looks away for a moment.

"She wanted to see you actually." She says and you let out a wry laugh. "I know how ridiculous it sounds, but her daughter died and you were the only remaining connection to Natasha."

You push your fingers against your forehead lightly, thinking you are starting to get a migraine from this conversation.

"You know what, Mom?" You say. "Since you two have become such good friends lately, tell her that her chance to connect with me was lost the moment she didn't attend the funeral."

Your mother sighs, but you are already turning to get into the car. She follows you a moment later, sitting in the passenger seat.

You drive in silence back home.

//-//

Over the weekend, you almost canceled your plans with Carol.

Your mother was giving you the silent treatment for the way you refused to talk about Natasha and Melina, and you were very irritated by the whole situation.

Grumbling about how ridiculous it all was, you agreed to have coffee with the two women the following week, and your mother's mood changed considerably, the complete opposite of what happened to you.

But you forced yourself to smile, and got up from the couch to get ready.

Around seven-thirty at night, you arrived at the place, which was already very busy, neon lights peeking through the windows along with the loud music.

"My goodness, look at you!" Greeted Carol cheerfully as soon as you met her at the counter. She turned around to hug you tight, and you felt your chest swell with happiness. You had missed your friend so much.

"You got a haircut" You comment in the same excitement, smiling at her. "I missed you, Danvers."

She smiles, mumbling that she missed you too. She asked you to sit on one of the stools at the front of the bar, and you did so while she went back behind the counter.

You updated each other a bit as she served some customers, and a while later, Bruce arrived.

"Banner I can't believe you are wearing a suit in a nightclub." Carol teased as she greeted her friend, making you chuckle slightly as Bruce explained that he didn't have time to look more casual.

"It's good to see you." He said to you as he hugged you, you repeated the words, then sat at the bar.

A few drinks and laughs later, Carol's shift ended, and she sat at a table with you two.

Between telling your friends about your progress in therapy, and hearing how Carol had left her previous job after punching a slacker client in the face, and learning that Bruce was working as an aspiring scientist, and lecturing around the country, the three of you had enough beers for the direction of the conversation to make your cheeks flush.

"I swear to you, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!" Carol told you, making you and Bruce laugh at her excitement.

"Now you're going to say that the next second you saw the next most beautiful woman in the world?" You teased wryly, and Carol laughed as she told you to shut up. "Are you even dating this Gamora girl?"

Carol hid a smirk, taking a sip of her beer.

"Actually." She began. "We're living together."

You widened your eyes in surprise, and then laughed.

"My god, Carol Danvers in love!" You teased making her laugh as she flashed you her middle finger. "No, but seriously, that's amazing! I'm happy for you, Carol."

"Yes, yes." She says smiling, "But what about you? I know you and Nat were like, madly in love or whatever cheesy stuff you put in your books, but it's been months. It would be nice if you met someone new."

The topic is quite sensitive, and the mood at the table changes because of it. But you are far more embarrassed than upset, and you lower your gaze to your bottle before answering.

" Oh, well, i..." You begin half-heartedly. Your stomach does a flip-flop, because you are thinking of a person. "There is someone, I think. But I don't know if we're both ready to take that on yet."

Carol makes an agreeing noise with her mouth, and then has an insinuating little smile on her face.

"Do you still remember how to be with a girl, champ?" your friend teases, and you nudge her shoulder shyly as she and Bruce laugh.

"Aren't those things like riding a bike?" The other man asked timidly, getting a wry look from Carol.

"You know, Bruce, your innocence is admirable." Carol teases making you laugh.

"Don't be mean." You say poking her lightly in the ribs, but Bruce doesn't really care. It's been that way since college when he told you guys he was asexual. The whole thing was funny because Carol has always been very, very sexual. And they have been teasing each other about it for years.

"Ah but I won't be, I promise." She assures. "Actually, I'm much more interested in hearing about your new girlfriend."

You laugh shyly, drinking some of your beer.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Carol laughed, her gaze running around the room before returning to you.

"Well, that blonde girl has been looking over here for a few moments. I have a girlfriend, and Bruce doesn't like sex. I guess you're the one who's going to have to talk to her."

You widened your eyes at your friend's words, looking forward quickly.

A blond woman was indeed staring at your table.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You mumble clumsily, and Carol gives a little laugh.

"That's too bad, because now that you've looked, she's going to come here." Your friend warns, and you choke on your beer when you see the girl actually getting up from the countertop.

"Carol, help me." You awkwardly whisper but your friend just laughs, and then the stranger catches up with you all.

"Hi." She greets sensually, looking up at you. You swallow dryly as your friend holds back a giggle. "Would you like to dance?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words." Carol teased lowly next to you, making the girl laugh at your clumsiness.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite." The girl added maliciously. " Unless you ask me to."

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment, and you spread your mouth open, not knowing what to say next. Carol murmurs impressed.

"Sorry, sweetie, she used to function better than that." Carol interrupts the interaction, taking pity on your distress. "I think she's taken. But if it's just a dance, we can all enjoy it together."

The girl bites her lips, seeming to consider. She takes one last look at you, and then accepts the invitation.

This is how you end up on a dance floor, trying to escape the hands of a stranger.

You remember how to dance, and the drink helps a lot. But there are hands running over your body before the woman turns around and starts rubbing against you in rhythm with the music. You feel your breath catch, the excitement of having so much intimate contact after so long reaching you completely.

"Are you sure you're taken?" She whispers against your ear, and you give a short laugh, feeling your head spin.

"Yes." You half-heartedly assure her, using all the rest of your drunken control to push her hands away from you.

The woman didn't mind, stealing a short kiss on your cheek before dancing away, swaying her hips.

Carol threw her arms around you next.

"Wow, you really are in love!" She enthusiastically shouts to be heard between the beats of the music. You laugh with flushed cheeks, saying you need to take some air.

Your friend continues to dance, pulling Bruce close, and the man laughs awkwardly as he puts his arms around the blonde. You chuckle at the scene before turning to go outdoors.

It is easier to breathe outside.

Your first action is to take your cell phone out of your pocket, and check your notifications. Your heart melts when you open a message from Wanda. It is a picture of her and the boys, lying together between a comforter. The caption reads "movie night, doesn't even look like they were jumping on the couch two minutes ago".

You stare at the picture for a few seconds after sending a heart emoji to Wanda. And then you gasp softly, realizing. You really are in love with her. Like in romance movies, and fairy tale books. But also like the real thing. Because you love Wanda's company, her sharp jokes, the way she talks and behaves and cares for everyone. You don't want to be in a bar, or meet another girl. You want to be wrapped in a comforter with Wanda and the kids.

Trying not to panic at this conclusion, you put your cell phone back in your pocket, deciding to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends.

//-//

You are trying to find a way to tell Wanda how you feel. The problem is that you are insecure, because you have no idea if she is ready for a relationship again. You don't even know if she likes women.

With so much suffering in the past months, you also don't want to face a broken heart. So you decide to wait and see how things will turn out.

It is something about the way your life is completely intertwined in Wanda's now, in the same way that she has wrapped herself around your heart that makes you sigh when you think about it everything.

You are distracted while you work, and Monica smiles because you have a smirk while tinkering in the gardens, which is clearly not related to the plants. She doesn't say anything, because it's the same way Wanda smiles when you bring her coffee, or when you two come back from lunch. She can only be excited to think how it will be to organize your wedding.

It is at lunch after group therapy that Wanda invites you to her father's wedding anniversary party. You hadn't met him yet, and a party was a good thing, because you wouldn't have all his attention on you, and it lessens your anxiety considerably.

The party will be at Wanda's father's country house, and you will be able to cross the "take a trip" goal off your therapy to-do list.

In the meantime, you prepare to see Natasha's mother.

It is a Thursday, and you set aside your lunch period for this, because you really don't want this meeting to last more than an hour.

Your mother and Melina are already in the restaurant when you arrive, and you nod politely to the woman when you sit down at the table, signaling that she doesn't need to get up.

"So, what did you want?" you ask snidely, earning a scolding from your mother. Melina doesn't seem to mind your aggressiveness however.

"Let's order something to eat first please." Your mother says before the other woman can respond. You roll your eyes, not disagreeing.

After the waitress takes your orders and leaves, you cross your arms impatiently.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to hear from me after all this time..." The woman begins.

"Hard for me?" You cut her off with irony. "No, Melina. I was not the daughter you abandoned. It was just hard for Nat not to have you around. I simply don't like you myself."

"Honey" Your mother warns, but you let out a dry laugh.

"No, really." You continue firmly. "What do you really want with me?"

Melina sighs, straightening herself in her chair.

"Your mother told me that you intend to sell Natasha's apartment." She says. "I don't approve of such a decision."

You stare at her for a moment, and then let out a laugh.

"I should have known you'd only show up for the money." You say feeling your stomach turn with anger. Melina rolls her eyes, but doesn't deny it. Your mother looks surprised that you are right.

"I gave that apartment to Natasha..."

" I beg your pardon?" you interrupt angrily, your loud tone attracting the attention of the next table. "You gave her the apartment? Are you listening to yourself now?"

"We don't need to get carried away." She asked with irritation in her eyes, drawing a nasal laugh of indignation from you. "You know I'm right."

"No, Melina." You retort seriously, lowering your tone. "Clarify for me how you can possibly think that putting an apartment full of debt in your daughter's name to escape the state, making her work two shifts to pay for everything, sets up like giving an apartment to someone?"

"You are manipulating the facts." She hits back and you nod in disbelief, closing your eyes momentarily. "I had financial problems, and Nat didn't object when I suggested..."

"She was 15." You cut in. "You forgot that little detail right? You also forgot about going to the guardianship board to emancipate your 15 year old daughter just so she could take on a debt of yours?" You asked angrily. "Oh, did you forget about Nat working in a diner throughout her teenage years to pay for everything?"

Melina clenched her jaw, glaring at you angrily. You really weren't in the least bit of patience for this conversation, and it was a good thing the waitress arrived with your orders, because you were about to turn the table.

"I am not hungry anymore." You grumble as soon as the waitress leaves and you look down at your food, your stomach turning. Then you look forward. "When I sell the apartment, I will talk to your lawyer and if you are entitled to anything, you can rest assured that it will come in the mail. Now do me a favor, and never look for me again."

After saying these words to Melina, you exchange a quick glance with your mother and get up, walking to the exit.

//-//

You are pretty upset about the whole Melina thing, but your mood improves almost immediately when Wanda invites you to visit her.

Actually, she needs help with the kids, because she's busy with a rich lady's wedding that required priority on the flower project, and the summer vacation started that week.

Monica was helping Wanda with the whole design, so you and Pietro would take care of the kids.

It was quite fun to do it, because you loved children. Pietro even had the bright idea of setting up a little lemonade stand outside Wanda's house, and while the other women were working, you and he took the kids outdoors.

"Don't you think a million dollars is a lot of money for a glass of lemonade, Billy?" you ask the boy as you watch him put several zeros on the price cardboard. Pietro laughs as he helps his daughter pin up her hair.

"I don't know." The kid tells you without stopping drawing. "I'm a kid, I've never paid anything."

You laugh, looking forward. You and Pietro are sitting on chairs placed on the grass while the children play around the lemonade stand.

When some of the neighbors buy the lemonade, you tell Billy that a gold coin is worth a million, and he doesn't argue.

The temperature rises considerably throughout the day, and around two in the afternoon you and Pietro decide that it would be good to take the kids swimming.

"Call the wives please." Pietro says to you as you stand in the living room after you two walk back in and put everything away, and he is helping the children put on bathing suits. You feel your face heat up at the innocent insinuation of Wanda being your wife, but you say nothing and he doesn't even seem to notice.

You knock on the door, then enter the office, and smile at the two women inside, who seemed to be concentrating on their own papers.

"Let's go for a quick swim girls?" You ask, ignoring the way your stomach gets butterflies when Wanda looks up at you.

Monica lets out an excited exclamation.

"Yes, please!" She says. "This room feels like an oven!"

You and Wanda laugh, and you make room for Monica to walk past you.

"Any chance you have a bathing suit in my size?" You ask Wanda next, and she bites back a smile, thoughtful.

"Let 's find out."

//-//

It is only upstairs that you realize that you have never been in Wanda's bedroom before.

All the times you have been here, you were reserved for the living room, the kitchen and the office. Except for the times you were in the twins' bedroom, and well, when you used the bathroom.

You stood still a bit past the entrance, not knowing exactly what to do with your hands as Wanda searched the closets for a bathing suit for you.

"You know you can look around right?" Wanda commented with playfulness in her speech, making you chuckle shyly.

Stepping forward, you twiddled your fingers together nervously as you looked around. You smiled at the decorations, and especially at the pictures on the dresser.

"Damn, I think I only have one pair." Wanda grumbled as she closed the closet, turning to you next, a swimsuit in her hands. "Do you want to wear it?"

You smiled wryly.

"Not if it's the only one you have." You say. "Don't worry, I'll keep my T-shirt on."

"Don't be silly, it's really hot outside. I'll lend you a bra."

Wanda leaves her swimsuit on the bed and walks over to the dresser behind you. You step aside to give her room to open the drawers.

You look quickly away from the underwear drawer, feeling your heart race at the intimacy of this moment. It only gets worse when Wanda hands you a black sports top, which she is glad to have found.

"Thank you, Wands." You mutter as you accept the garment.

You widen your eyes as Wanda begins to unbutton the shirt she is wearing, but before you have a heart attack, she flashes you a small smile and picks up the swimsuit from the bed, turning toward the bathroom as she uses her free hand to keep the shirt closed.

You take advantage of Wanda's exit to quickly take your shirt off, put on the top and then the T-shirt over it.

A moment later she returns, and your breath catches in your throat.

"This swimsuit has a tie in the back, can you help me with that?" Wanda asks distractedly as she tucks her hair into a bun. You swallow dryly, trying to keep your gaze off her exposed legs.

Wanda stands facing the dresser, watching you approach through the mirror. You ignore your uncompensated heartbeat as you stare back at her, and let out a shy smile as you lower your gaze when you notice her flushed cheeks as you stand right behind her.

Raising your fingers to the height of her back, you gently touch the skin exposed by the opening of her swimsuit. The contact makes every inch of the woman's skin shiver in front of you, and she sighs softly, the sound making your stomach turn.

You risk looking forward again, at your reflection, only to find Wanda's mouth ajar, her eyes dark. You risk dragging your fingers further inside the fabric, making her choke lightly.

Completely mesmerized by the way Wanda's body responds to your touch, you raise your other hand, trailing a finger up from the length of her coccyx to the opening of her swimsuit, watching Wanda close her fists as her cheeks redden.

You can hear the sounds of her uncompensated breathing, but you can also hear the muffled laughter from the distance downstairs, and that motivates you enough to ignore the trembling of your fingers as you zip up Wanda's swimsuit.

"W-we should go downstairs." You whisper in a hoarse voice, ignoring the urge to rip off Wanda's swimsuit.

The redhead swallows dryly before slowly turning toward you. Your faces are so close that you can feel her breath on your cheek.

"I..."

"Mommy why are you taking so long?" Billy's muffled scream coming from the backyard through the window makes you and Wanda jump in fright.

Pietro and Tommy repeat the same sentence next, and you clear your throat, taking a step back. Wanda can't keep her gaze on you as you both walk down to the pool outside.

You can only distract yourself from the feel of Wanda's skin on your fingers because you play in the pool with everyone, and these thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind for the rest of the afternoon.

It is only when you have to leave, after the children have had a bath, and are dressed in comfortable clothes in front of the television, and you have hugged Monica and Pietro goodbye that these thoughts come flooding back when you have to repeat the gesture with Wanda.

You disguise yourself, smiling politely at the couple standing behind the redhead as you let your arms circle her waist as you hug her. Resisting the urge to close your eyes and sink your face into Wanda's neck, who has her hands on your shoulders, you hold back a sigh as you pull away.

"See you on Monday." You murmur in a husky voice, and the redhead nods, her gaze falling quickly to your lips.

You think you'd better get in the car before you lose control of your body.

//-//

Startled slightly, you opened your eyes with difficulty. Someone was calling you, but it must have been very late, because you couldn't see anything in the room but the blinking light on your dresser.

Grumbling, you stretched your arm out to reach for your vibrating cell phone and answer the call.

"Hello?" you asked in a voice hoarse from sleep, closing your eyes again.

"Hey, sorry to wake you." It was Wanda, and her whiny voice made you open your eyes quickly, worried.

"Wanda? Did something happen?"

"Yeah." She agrees, sniffling softly. "I just... I'm so sad. The whole fucking time. Then Tony came over and started saying these things and now I'm crying and I can't stop. I'm sorry, it's not your problem, I shouldn't have called and..."

"I'm coming."

You think Wanda tried to say something to stop you, but you ended the call as you stood up.

"Where are you going?" Your mother asked as soon as you came downstairs, and you were startled to find her awake, but you didn't ask as you noticed the laptop in your lap.

"Wanda." You mumble simply, looking for your keys.

"Kitchen countertop." She informed and you muttered a thank you as you picked up the item from the mentioned spot. "You know, if you're going to start leaving the house at dawn to see her, it might be best to move in with her."

You chuckled awkwardly at the comment as you put on your shoes.

"Try to get some sleep, work will still be there in the morning." You tell her to change the subject, and your mother sighs, turning her attention back to the screen. "You don't have to wait up for me."

"Oh, I figured." She teases last making you roll your eyes in embarrassment before opening the door to leave.

//-//

You didn't have to knock on the door, because as soon as you parked the car and got out, you had a view of the outside garden porch, and you could see Wanda sitting on the rocking bench, looking at the ground.

You sighed, opening the garden gate to enter the backyard.

Making a noise with your feet so as not to startle her, you felt your heart squeeze as she wiped her tears away quickly, turning her head to the side. You sighed, taking a seat on the bench in front of her, rocking it slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked a moment later, and from the redhead's silence, you figured not. But she nodded next, looking down at her own feet. "Tell me what happened then."

It takes a moment, but Wanda speaks. She tells how Tony Stark showed up at her door at three in the morning, saying that he blamed himself for his brother death but that this was a good thing now because it was exactly what he needed to change his life and stop drinking, and that she punched him in the nose, saying that this was always his problem, everything was always about him. Tony promised that he would be someone decent now, that he was going to change, and Wanda just pushed him away, telling him to go change somewhere else.

"I feel like the worst person in the world right now." She grumbles as soon as she finishes narrating.

"Why?"

"Tony has been an alcoholic since he was fifteen, and he's finally getting better. I think he was in need of someone to help him."

You shook your head, letting out a short laugh.

"And why is that your problem?" you retorted, surprising her. "Wanda you are under no obligation to suppress your feelings to make others feel better. You have every right to feel angry with Tony. And to not want him in your life again."

Wanda takes a deep breath, burying her face in her hands for a moment, as if trying to believe your words.

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding whether to speak what you wanted to.

"Wands?" You called after her, and she looked at you. "You said you were sad. Do you want to talk about that too?"

The redhead looks away from you, a weak smile on her lips.

"I don't know how to talk about it really." She starts by looking down at her feet. "I never did."

You wait, stretching your leg out and lightly tapping your feet together with her on the floor. Wanda smiles at the movement, and then bites her lips.

"I think it started when I was a kid." She counters thoughtfully, her gaze straying to the yard around her. "Ever since mama died, or maybe before. There's this sadness, stuck in my chest. And no matter what I do, it won't go away."

You listen intently, waiting for Wanda to finish.

"When I was younger, Papa worked all day and Mama took care of me and Pietro. But she got sick, and granny came to live with us to help. I was ten when she died, and Pietro's anxiety got worse." She swallows dryly, as if the memories are choking her. "Granny didn't know how to help my brother, so I took care of him myself. And when we were in high school, she got sick too. And well, Dad didn't know what to do really, so I took care of her at home while he and Pietro worked to pay for the medications." She adds, and sniffles lightly. "I just remember being tired. All the damn time. I'd go to school, and come home, and I'd eat, and play, and watch TV, but I wasn't really there. I started to think that's how everybody else felt, because I had a normal life, and I had no reason to feel sad."

You frown slightly, but bite your tongue to keep from interrupting.

"Grandma died just before I graduated, and I barely had time to miss her, busy with college applications, and taking care of the funeral at the same time." She counters with a wry laugh, as if realizing how unfair it was that she was left to take care of everything by herself. "And then I met Vis, and he was sweet and kind and he was everything anyone could want. The perfect boyfriend, perfect friend, and brother and husband. So I choked down that sadness, because it wasn't fair that I was with someone so amazing, and I wasn't satisfied." She recounts as she lets the tears flow. "When the twins came, everyone told me that my life was complete. That children were exactly what everyone wanted, and that I had the perfect life. So I kept that image."

Wanda raises her hand to wipe away a tear that ran down her cheek, but others kept falling next.

"With Vis's death, everything started to fall apart on me." She says after a pause, biting her lips slightly to hold back the crying. She lets out a nasal laugh next. "But I wasn't going to let that happen, so I gathered the pieces together. I put a smile on my face and continued to be the mother my children needed. And then I met you."

You frown in confusion, but Wanda does not look at you. She runs her hands through her hair, shaking her head slightly.

"You came into my life at its worst possible moment. And all you did was make me feel better again." Wanda declared with a sigh, and you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to your feet. "You don't expect me to be happy, or polite, or sociable. You don't care that I get cranky and irritable, that I wanted to skip work or eat junk food." She counters, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I feel like I can breathe again, because when you look at me you don't judge me like everyone else. You just listen, and observe. And take care of me."

You sigh, impacted by the intensity of the confessions. You think that if you keep quiet long enough, Wanda can hear your heart beating fast.

The redhead takes a deep breath, twisting her fingers slightly before speaking again.

"That's why I called." She counters in a sigh. Her eyes fill with tears again, but she doesn't let them fall. "You've been the only person who makes me feel this way. And when Tony came along I felt I was drowning into those terrible thoughts again. I needed you to pull me back up."

You raise your head to Wanda, but she is looking down at the floor, her cheeks flushed. You smile, rising to sit beside her.

"I will." You whisper as you interlace your fingers, looking forward. Wanda stares at your entwined hands before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you." She murmurs a moment later.

"Don't mention it." You reply in the same tone.

You stand like this for many minutes, Wanda wiggling your fingers together. You are about to close your eyes when a childish voice startles you a little.

"Mommy?" it's Billy, dressed in adorable teddy bear pajamas, scratching his eyes sleepily. "Why are you out here?"

Wanda looks at him in surprise.

"Come here dear." Wanda asks signaling with her free hand for Billy to approach. The boy yawns, walking over to you two. You mess up his hair as Wanda releases her hand to sit her son on her own lap.

"Why are you here, Y/N?" The boy asks sleepily, making you and Wanda smile at how cute he looks.

"I am a friend of your mother's, Billy, I come whenever she needs me." You reply with a smile, trying not to be affected by the way Wanda looks at you.

"You should come more often, y/n. Mom is happy when you are around." Billy declares causing Wanda to let out a surprised exclamation, and you feel your heart race.

"Oh, really?" You tease with a little smile, and Wanda pushes her shoulder against yours lightly. "I promise I'll visit more often then."

"You can live here!" Billy exclaims excitedly next, making you laugh in surprise.

"Don't be silly, Billy." Wanda adds embarrassed. "We don't have a room."

"She can sleep with you mommy." Billy retorts as if it's obvious, "Daddy's not here anymore, and your bed is too big, because it fits Tommy and me together!"

You swallow dryly, surprised and embarrassed at the way Billy is casual above all, but mostly worried that this comparison might have hurt Wanda. But she lets out a little laugh, shaking her head.

"It's time for bed, enough of this talk" Wanda warns the boy next, getting up with him on her lap.

You accompany the two of them into the house, waiting until Wanda comes downstairs after putting Billy to bed.

Billy's words in your head were still echoing when Wanda suggested that you sleep in her bed after she came downstairs, and part of you wanted to, but you figured that night wasn't the best time. So you slept on the couch, and left after breakfast, ignoring how warm your chest felt at the image of the table with Wanda and the twins having coffee.

//-//

Your first stop after leaving Wanda's house was the cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the memorial stone in the ground. The small photograph of Natasha carved into the stone.

"I miss you, pchelka" You whispered softly, leaving your hands in your pockets as you looked down. Your chest hurt less than the first time you came here, but the pain was still there. You imagined that it always would be. "I won't ever stop. But I want to live again. I hope you won’t be mad at me, from wherever you are, and understand that."

Part of you knew that Natasha would be happy for you. It was one of the reasons you loved her so much.

Kneeling down, you pulled out of your pocket the items you had left in the car's glove box a few days ago, planning to do this since the day of the bar.

" This belongs to you." You whispered, after digging in the grass next to the headstone, and pulling out of the small wrapping your wedding rings. You placed the metal in the dirt, along with the daffodil seeds you brought with you. Using some of the water from the bottle you had in your hands, you watered after burying the items. "Rest in peace, my love."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #sorry for your loss

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taetaespeaches · 3 years

Text

“When I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean.”

yoongi x reader (oc)

genre: fluff; smut (just barely at the end)

word count: 2.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! It’s Yoongi day!!!! This is the night Yoongi starts working on People for his mixtape and he and Kid/reader have a long conversation about life, people, and the meaning of everything. Idek if the conversations make full sense but that’s kind of what I like about them, these two are just bullshitting and getting to know each other even more and I think it’s sweet. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

And happy birthday to our favorite honey boy 🍯💛

Seated on Yoongi’s studio couch, your eyes scanned over the words of the paperback novel in your hands as the sounds of the beats from the man’s computer started and stopped at random, filling the room with evidence of his genius and artistry. As you turned the page, the man sat back against his chair with a small huff, your gaze lifting from the book to your boyfriend.

You waited a moment, seeing if he was going to initiate conversation or if he was simply taking a quick moment to himself. However, when his head turned to peer behind him, sneaking a glance at you, you couldn’t help the upward curve of your lips.

“Hey,” he chuckled lightly, your smile growing.

“What’s up, Honey Boy?”

He appeared bashful, as if he was embarrassed and almost guilty for interrupting your reading. Lowering the book to the cushion next to you, holding your place with your finger, you cocked your head.

“Would you mind giving this a listen real quick?” He asked shyly, your eyes widening in slight surprise. Yoongi asking for your opinion on his music wasn’t new or even rare, but the tentativeness in his demeanor certainly was. The man could be bashful when sharing his work, but rarely hesitant.

Nodding at him, he sat back up and pressed play on the track. It was different than anything he’d ever shown you before, the slow melodic flow of the song, paired with interesting xylophone-type of sound, immediately capturing you. Your eyebrows pulling together as you listened, a focus overtaking you.

It was just the instrumental, but it felt comforting; calming.

“This is from,” he thought out loud, “2016 probably.”

“It’s amazing, Yoon,” you complimented sincerely. “I’m actually kind of offended you’ve had this all this time just hiding in your hard drive,” you teased with a smile, Yoongi chuckling as he spun his chair around to face you.

“You think I should use it for the mixtape?” He asked, already knowing he should, but seeking your opinion anyway.

“Definitely,” you told him as you lifted the book, only to fold the corner of the page down. Dropping the novel onto the couch, you stood and easily approached the man, his gaze following you intently as you neared him. Leaning against his desk, Yoongi spun in his chair so he continued to face you. “It’s really good.”

Giving you a single appreciative nod, he held back a grin. “Thank you,” he whispered, the shyness in his gratitude adorable, making you smile. “I love your smile,” he told you suddenly, a small breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly, trying to brush over the compliment, feeling bashful under his gaze. You both simply stared at one another, both of your minds trying to decipher each other’s expressions.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked you, clueless as to what was going on in your mind, but knowing there was something weighing on it.

With a small sigh, you flashed him a small smile. “Do you think I’m a good person?” You asked him, the man’s eyebrows pulling together.

“I do,” he replied simply, though his expression remained the same. “Why?”

“I saw an old friend today,” you told him as you lifted yourself onto the desk so you were seated atop it, your feet dangling above the floor.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hands coming to rest on your knees.

“She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her,” you continued. “We used to be so close in school and now, it’s like I hardly know her,” you told him, the fragility of your voice apparent to your own ears, so you knew Yoongi heard it too. “She has a baby I had no idea about.”

Yoongi stared at you thoughtfully, locking his eyes with yours, a rare occurrence for him. “Why is that making you concerned about your goodness as a person?”

“I just-” you paused thoughtfully. “I let that relationship fade away. You know, I was the one who stopped communicating, I was the one who cancelled plans, I just pulled away and withdrew.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human,” he informed you, his thumbs soothing along the insides of your thighs, just above your knee caps. “People change.”

Nodding in understanding, you directed a small tight smile at him. “You know, as happy as I am with my life and the people in it,” you scrunched your nose, poking his hand with your finger to emphasize his important role among those people, Yoongi letting a small smile grace his features, “I feel nostalgic for something,” you finished. Lifting his hand from your leg, he wrapped it around your own hand, holding it comfortingly in his grasp. His palm was as warm as his considerate gaze, and you realized for the hundredth time that Yoongi was warmth embodied. “Does everyone feel like this or is there something wrong with me?” You scoffed lightly at yourself.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He teased, making a small giggle leave your lips as you softly jerked your knee up to bump his arm in light-hearted complaint. “I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think I miss the person I was before,” he looked around the studio, “you know, all this,” he admitted, referring to his career.

Leaning toward him, you listened intently, your orbs scanning his features as he pondered over the thoughts within his mind.

“Maybe not even the person, but the life,” he elaborated, you humming in understanding.

“Do you find that it was a simpler time?” You asked, intrigued by his words.

“Not so much simpler but just different, I guess,” he thought out loud. “It feels like I sacrificed the ordinary for the extraordinary,” he added, latching his gaze onto your legs as you stared down at him. “And now the ordinary becomes extraordinary,” he said, lowering his chin to your knees as his fingers picked at the fraying around the hole in your jeans.

Your free hand that wasn’t being held by his found its way to his hair, your fingers digging into his soft strands.

“I sound ungrateful,” he chuckled dryly against your legs, you shaking your head despite him not seeing it, his eyes still glued to the hole in your clothing.

“No, just human,” you spoke up. “It’s natural to long for those realities that belong to some but not to us,” you assured him, the man rotating his face so his cheek rested against your leg, his orbs gazing up at you.

“People dream of having my life though,” he mumbled, his lips slightly pouted making him look precious despite the negative thoughts swirling around his head and leaving that adorable pout. “And here I am just wishing I could walk down the street without a care in the world,” he smiled a bit. “Am I even a good person? I feel greedy.”

Brushing your fingers through his hair, you pouted, watching him for a moment before responding. “I’m biased, but I think you are.”

“You sure?” He quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes that made you smile as a breathy chuckle left your lips.

“You’re a good person, Yoongi, I won’t have you thinking otherwise,” you insisted with a glare, Yoongi’s lips curving into a grin in response.

“My life isn’t any more special than anyone else’s,” he suddenly decided. “Just different.”

Nodding at him, you agreed. “You’re just a person.” Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, preparing to tease you for the lackluster conclusion, your mouth already shaping into a knowing smile. “But my favorite person,” you added. “So that’s something.”

Placing a kiss to your jean adorned knee, he grinned. “It’s everything.”

“I think it has meaning,” you noted, your and Yoongi’s conversation taking several different paths throughout the past forty-five minutes or so. You were now talking about the meaning of life, and whether there was a meaning at all. “I just don’t know what,” you added with a shy smile.

Yoongi’s gummy grin beamed up at you as he squeezed your thigh playfully. “I go back and forth. Like, we’re here by chance, right? Maybe life is no deeper than that,” he explained, you nodding in understanding. “But also, I found music and BTS, and here I am with you, and all of that feels meaningful,” he added thoughtfully.

“Do you believe in fate?” You questioned curiously.

“Maybe,” he responded, his voice sliding up slightly in pitch.

“I find myself thinking that same thing. Like maybe we don’t have a purpose as living beings except to just, be here, and live. And maybe it’s the people we know and the experiences we have that give it all meaning,” you thought aloud, Yoongi humming as he peered up at you.

“Yeah, I like that,” he settled with a small close-mouthed smile that pushed his fluffy cheeks up adorably. Moving your hand from his hair, you poked his cheek, Yoongi giving you a feigned grimace in reply.

“Ok, so question for you,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes widening in anticipation. “If your life wasn’t so extraordinary, what would you do?”

“Like, without the fame?” He asked.

“Yeah, let’s say for a day, no one knew who Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D was, what would you do?” You asked with a small smile, feeling giddy to hear his answer.

“I would take you out on the most normal run of the mill date,” he answered easily.

“That’s what you’d do?!” You asked in disbelief, Yoongi smiling cutely. “What like to the movies?”

“To the movies and to dinner and to get ice cream and we’d walk around Seoul without a care in the world about who could see us,” he grinned.

“We’ve done all those things though,” you pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, we have our spots that feel safe, and we venture out on occasion, but we could go anywhere without the stress of being seen,” he explained. “No worries, just us.”

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed his hair off his forehead gently. “I didn’t realize you had so much stress when we go out,” you noted, a softness evident in your tone.

“I’m just- hyperaware,” he clarified.

“Would you hold my hand in the street, Honey Boy?” You asked with a wide grin, Yoongi chuckling at you.

“I wouldn’t let go of your hand,” he told you, his thumb running along the side of your hand as he spoke the words. “You know what else I would do?” He asked happily.

“What?” You whispered through your beaming grin.

“I’d kiss you in front of everyone,” he returned your smile. “And I’d post a cheesy photo of us on my pubic instagram to brag about how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, Yoongi giggling as his chin rested on top of your knee.

“It would be nice,” he hummed thoughtfully, as if he was losing himself in a day dream where he could live so carelessly.

Moving your hand to the side of his face, you pulled his attention back to you as you cocked your head at him and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” you stared to sing playfully, Yoongi dropping his forehead to your knee as he laughed at you.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked back up to you with his gummy grin, his eyes bright and full of adoration. “I love that song,” he noted, you giggling.

“Me too,” you replied in a whisper.

A pause in the conversation took place as Yoongi’s eyes scanned over your features, yours following the movement of his gaze. When his eyes met yours, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk and stood in front of you, his hands finding your waist as his face hovered close to yours.

Placing a kiss to the side of your mouth, you breathed out slowly, the intimacy between you both blossoming more stunningly than it ever had before.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as your hands found his neck, your fingers greedily but gently exploring the soft skin of his neck and jaw, grazing over his throat.

“I love you too,” you told him. “Forever.”

Pressing your lips to his, he brought his body as close to yours as he could, wanting you as close as possible. As he deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in synchronization with his own, his hands found the bottom of your shirt.

Tugging up, you removed your hands from him to allow him to pull the clothing from your frame. Dropping the shirt onto the desk next to your bodies, his eyes glanced down at your chest to see the flimsy lace bra. As one of his hands moved behind you to feel your back, sliding down to grasp the top of your ass, he dragged the finger of his opposite hand along the edge of your bra cup.

“What does forever mean?” He suddenly asked in a low timbre, just before pressing a lingering peck to your mouth. “You never know what the future holds,” he said realistically, though his tone was still seductive and light.

“I think the intent behind the word is what matters,” you told him, trailing kisses along his neck, Yoongi tilting his head to the side to allow you more access. “What a person feels when they speak the word.”

“So what do you feel? What do you mean when you say forever?” He questioned, your head raising to look him in the eyes.

Scooting off the desk, you stood in front of Yoongi, your gaze locked on his. “When I say forever,” you started, your hands finding the sides of his face as his held your waist. “I mean it literally. For always, evermore, in this lifetime and the next. Maybe even past lifetimes. The future is unpredictable, but when I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean,” you assured him as the man stared at you with a surety you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before.

Leaning in to kiss him again, you began pushing him backward, you both stumbling as he bumped into the chair. Your lips curved upward into the kiss, you both chuckling as you continued your clumsy ministrations.

Finding your way to the couch, you dropped onto it, sliding across it so you could recline, Yoongi standing above you watching you intently. As you stared up at him with a smirk, he shed himself of his shirt. Crawling atop you, your hands grabbed onto his hips, your fingers digging underneath the waistband.

He kissed you passionately, pouring his feelings and emotions into the action, causing you to moan, the sound melting against the man’s mouth, making him smirk. Sitting up on his knees, he undid the zipper on his own jeans before reaching for your own. His eyes left your legs for just a moment as he reached for the book shoved against the back of the sofa.

“This any good?” He asked, you quirking your eyebrow.

“It is, want me to read it to you?” You asked, Yoongi scoffing as he tossed it onto the table, you giggled as he went back to pulling your clothes from your body.

As he removed his clothing, you reached for your bag on the floor next to you, pulling a condom out, Yoongi smirking at you.

Once your clothing was removed, giggles flooding the room as you both struggled to wiggle out of your jeans and your bra flung somewhere across the studio, it was a matter of seconds until his skin was against yours, your body caged by his arms.

He kissed you passionately, a hand on your waist as his other arm supported his weight over you. Slipping inside you, you groaned out at the sensation, Yoongi breathing lowly at the feeling of you.

As you clasped a leg around his, your hand grasping at his ass, he placed delicate kisses across you face, giving special attention to your cheeks as he began dragging his hips.

“I love you,” he whispered before pushing his mouth to yours, swallowing your breaths and whimpers. He moved slowly, savoring every moment of being together, wanting this night to last, forever.

Your hands clutched his back, clinging to him as he moved in and out of you with a passionate force that had you moaning out near his ear. And he reveled in your sounds, knowing he was the cause, knowing you were his. Forever.

Leaving a kiss to his earlobe, you confessed your love for him once more. And then again. And again.

“Forever,” you repeated, the word coated in intention and meaning. You’d be loving him forever.

566 notes · View notes

rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

OUT OF TROUBLE

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)

A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"

"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"

Silence.

"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."

More silence.

"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.

"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.

"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.

"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.

"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"

"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.

"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"

"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"

"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.

Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.

"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.

"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"

"What the hell?!"

"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.

"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.

"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.

"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."

"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"

Two Hours Earlier

After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.

Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.

"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"

"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.

"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.

"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.

"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.

"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.

"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."

"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."

"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.

"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.

"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.

"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.

"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"

"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."

"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.

"No she doesn't."

George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.

"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.

We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.

"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.

"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.

"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."

"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"

"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.

"Meaning?"

"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"

"Cassius!"

"What kiss?" Graham inquired.

"He kissed her."

"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.

"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"

"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.

"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.

"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.

"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."

"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."

"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.

"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.

"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.

"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"

"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."

I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.

There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.

"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.

"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.

"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.

"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."

Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."

"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."

"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.

"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."

"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.

"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.

"He did not—" Katie started.

"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"

READER'S P. O. V.

I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.

Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.

It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.

"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.

"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.

I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.

This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.

"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.

"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.

He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.

Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.

Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.

It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."

"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.

"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.

"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."

"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.

"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.

"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.

"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.

"Shut up, Bell!"

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."

"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.

"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."

"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.

"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."

"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.

"So... you're not mad at me?"

"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."

George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.

"Don't do it again, though."

"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."

"So?"

"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.

"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.

"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."

"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."

"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.

#george weasley headcanon #george weasley drabble #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley fluff #the order of the Phoenix #george weasley x y/n #george x y/n #george x you #harry potter

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

Note

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

#here I go again with yet another friends to lovers lmao #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan #blurb #g blurb

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #little border town #harry styles one shot #harry styles af #ahghsgjfgkjdfkg #literal keyboard smash #its been so long #and no one is going to read #do y'all even remember me omg

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antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx · 3 years

Note

The blog is is-the-owl-vid-cute. One of my friends is super into birds and owl-vid is a blog about bird facts and also checking for whether or not media with birds is ethical or harmful, so my friend reblogged them onto my dash or not. But then last night owl-vid got an anti ask telling them someone they were interacting with (over HP wank, I didn't ever see the context) was ~pro-incest and pro-pedo~ due to a pinned post on their blog. (1/?)

(cont) Pinned post was an (admittedly enthusiastically worded) variant of "write whatever fucked up shit you want, shine on you crazy diamonds" when I went to look at it myself. It made it VERY clear it was talking about FICTIONAL SUBJECTS, and also mentioned that harassing people for what they write is Not On. Obviously a direct response/rebuttal to anti discourse. If owl-vid had somehow misunderstood the context or just disengaged, that might have been fine. BUT - (2/?)

(cont) What owl-vid actually did was link the person's blog on their own blog, call the person a "certified creep", tell all their followers to block the person, tag the post as #tw maps, suggest that anti-censorship people are "FiCtIoN dOeSn'T aFfEcT rEaLiTy" whackjobs - and yes they wrote it like that - and COMPLETELY FILED OFF ANY CONTEXT THAT THE PERSON IN QUESTION WAS TALKING ABOUT PEDOPHILIA AND INCEST IN THE CONTEXT OF FICTIONAL DEPICTIONS. Didn't mention it at all. (3/?)

(cont) Obviously it wasn't a direct call to action from their follower base (which idek how big that is, said post only has 50~ notes so they may be a smaller blog themselves than I thought) and I won't pretend it is, but accusing someone of being a MAP on your educational platform for taking an anti-censorship stance in regards to FICTION is so disgusting to me. The fact that they HID THE CONTEXT (even if they did provide the link so people could look for themselves) is even worse. (4/5?)

(cont) Anyway, I don't want them to get harassment because one of the main things I despise about antis IS their harassment, and I have no interest in perpetuating that culture. But someone who will use their platform to accuse innocent people like that, and who will conceal facts from their followers in order to paint the people they disagree with as monsters that their followers should hate - that behavior is dangerous and harmful, and I do want people to be warned. (6/6)

Yeah, okay, at first I was all “wow, what a douchebag move, typical of antis”, and THEN I read the part which said they tagged it “#tw maps” and holy shit

That is so far beyond not okay

There’s nothing the gets me angrier than how fandom has watered down the term pedophile, so it gets slung around easy as pie without a care to how the rest of the reasonable, normal, not fucking pearl-clutching over fiction world will interpret that. That shit can base a slander/libel charge, but fandom likes to conveniently forget that in favour of screaming “cREEP!!!” at people who write works that are more tame than the shit you’d find in your average public library.

#Answered

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction: Asking to Borrow S/o's Razor/ Wax

A/n: so this came from the revelation that stray kids probably freaking shave and wax their armpits. BC LIKE OMG THEYVE B EEN WEARING TANK TOPS RECENTLY and like idek man like i was just like its so smooth that cant be natural

Tagging: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe(if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or reblog! <3)

Warnings: probably some cursing

Bangchan:

“AAAAAHH NO!!!”

Hearing your boyfriend’s scream you raced to the bathroom door and knocked. This would not have been the first time Chan had fallen asleep in the shower and slipped. “Chan! You okay, love?” You asked, knuckled wrapping against the door.

“Uhhhh....one sec, Y/n.”

You waited patiently in the hall before Chan told you to come in. The shower had been turned off and Chan stood in the shorts he was wearing earlier and his hair hung in wet strands in front of his face. “You okay?” You asked eyeing him for injuries. Then your gaze fell upon the little pink razor that lay in two parts in Chan’s hand. Your boyfriend looked from you to the shaving utensil cutely.

“I think I broke it.” He mumbled.

Your heart fluttered seeing his adorable face looking down at the tiny pastel broken razor in his big hands. “Yeah, I think you did, babe.” You did your best not to laugh when he tossed the snapped razor onto the counter. You watched him reach under the sink and pull out a clear bag full of little pink razors. The kind you used to use in middle school. “Oh my gosh, Chan you aren’t using those are you?”

He blushed seeing you laugh at the bag. “Yeah...why?”

“Awww baby.” You kissed his cheek and took the bag and tossed it in the trash. Your boyfriend watched you open a drawer and pull out one of the extra razors you had lying around. “Here use this. I’ll go buy you an actual razor this weekend.” His dimples made an appearance as I handed him the metal razor.

“Thank you, Y/n.” He said kissing your forehead.

Minho:

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called out into the apartment. “Y/n!”

You sighed and got up from your comfy place on the couch. “What, Minho?” One of the cats brushed up against your leg as you walked into your shared bedroom. “I thought you were gonna take a shower?” Minho lay face down on the bed, like the drama queen he was.

“I can find my mppphrhp.”

“You’re what?”

“My mmrmpr.”

“Babe, take your head out of the pillow.” Minho dejectedly rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t even move when Doori hopped onto the bed and snuggled into his chest.

“My razor. I can’t find my razor. My stylist called and told me she has me in a cutoff tee tomorrow and I haven’t shaved since before the comeback.” Knowing Minho, he probably left it out on the last tour or something and one of the boys swiped it. They were always ‘borrowing’ things from each other and never giving it back.

“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” You said turning on the light to the adjoining bathroom. “Are you too upset to take off your shirt?” The only answer you received was a grumble from Minho and the sound of fabric rustling. You came back into the room with a box of wax strips.

Minho raised his head, hearing the box open and he shot up from the bed fear in his eyes. “Hey...back off.” He tried to laugh off the nervousness as I approached him with a wax strip in hand. “Y/n, you know I love you right?” He said holding a hand out so you kept your distance.

“Come on, Minho. It will only hurt like.....a lot.”

He sprinted out of the room only to trip over a cat, giving you a chance to tackle him and apply a strip to his underarm. “Y/N! NO- OWWWWWWWW YOU ASSHOLE!”

Changbin:

Your nap was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend loudly opening drawers in the bathroom. “Binnie! Shut the hell up please!” You said stuffing a pillow over your head. He mumbled an apology but continued to loudly open cabinets.

“Hey...baby?” Changbin asked crawling onto the bed. He lifted the pillow from your face and laughed at your scowl. “I need your help.” You shook your head and turned over. “Please....” He tried pulling the covers away from you, but the effort was in vain.

“Y/n I’ll order your favorite takeout if you help me?” He coaxed in a cute voice. Changbin laughed when your sleepy face peeked out from under the covers.

“What do you want, Binnie?”

He huffed and collapsed on top of you, a groan leaving you in response to his weight. “I forgot my razor at the dorms. Do you have one I could borrow?” You rose an eyebrow and wrapped an arm around his bare back.

“By borrow do you mean gunk up with your armpit hair?” Changbin laughed and nodded. “No, sorry. I only use wax.” He sighed and dropped his head down into your neck.

“Is it my only option?”

To be honest, you probably had a cheap razor lying around somewhere, but....he had woken you up from your nap. He deserved it. “Yes, this is your only option.” He whined and rolled off the bed. You told him where you kept the wax and paper and he retrieved them from the bathroom.

“I’m a manly man. This should be nothing.” He said, giving himself a pep talk as you spread wax over a strip and placed it under his left arm. He raised it over his head and readied himself for the pain. “Ooo. That wasn’t so bad.”

“Changbin I haven’t pulled it yet.” He just blushed and stared straight ahead. A high pitched scream filled the apartment when you ripped away the paper.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin lounged on your shared bed, blonde hair laid out in weird directions as he scrolled through his phone. You walked out of the bathroom carrying the laundry hamper, most of it filled with Hyunjin’s workout clothes. “Oh, Chan called and asked me to remind you that you are filming your dance practice tomorrow.” You said adjusting your hold on the basket.

“Thanks, babe,” Hyunjin answered still on his phone.

“Your clothes are rank, Jinnie.” You said beginning to sort through the clothes so you could begin laundry. He shot up from the bed eyes wide. You watched as he ran to your closet and searched through the clothes. “What’s wrong?” You asked sorting the dirty clothes.

“All I have left are tank tops.”

“So? You look really hot in tank tops.” You said with a smile. Hyunjin collapsed against the closet doorframe. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong, drama llama?” He whined and groaned until he collapsed onto the floor in a puddle of depressed Hyunjin.

He pouted up at you. “I forgot to buy a new razor. I can’t film in a tank top tomorrow looking like Bigfoot!” You laughed, finding the tiniest bit of joy in his misfortune. Hyunjin was honestly overreacting. You were certain no one would care if his underarms weren’t smooth and shaved.

However, knowing he was going to whine and complain and be an overall pain in the butt until the problem was solved, you stopped sorting the laundry. Hyunjin was too caught up in his whiny fit to see you go into the bathroom and pull out an extra razor from under the sink.

“There. Problem solved.” You said tossing it into his lap.

“Thank you, Y/n.” He said, expression changing to a bright smile like a flip of a coin. He rushed over and gave you a sweet kiss before sprinting into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Jisung:

“HEY BABY!”

The loud sound of Jisung’s voice rung out through the apartment making you jump. Your ears picked up on the sound of drawers opening and closing. You pushed yourself off the couch and ventured into the bathroom. Your boyfriend stood with messy hair and half his shirt over his shoulder rummaging through the cabinets.

“What’s up handsome?” He sighed, a small whine escaping his lips when his head rolled back.

“I can’t find my razor. I think I lost it on tour.” You leaned against the doorway and watched Jisung continue to search. He gave up eventually and tugged his arm back into his shirt. “Can I borrow yours? I have a performance tomorrow.” He asked cutely taking your hands in his.

“Jisung, I only have wax strips right now. I used yours if I needed a razor.” Everyone knew guys razors were better. He flinched hearing the word wax. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He was debating whether to go through the pain of wax or go on stage in a tank top unshaven.

“Fine. But will you help me?”

You nodded and he trudged his feet into your shared bedroom. “Shirt off babe.” You called before grabbing the strips from below your sink. Jisung lay on your bed, feet planted on the floor and hands covering his face. His tan skin exposed to the air. You leaned over, crawling on top of him and resting your thighs on either side of his waist. “Ready.” He nodded squinting his eyes closed.

He raised his arm and you placed the strip down and smoothed it out. Jisung’s other hand held on firmly to the bedspread. “1...2...” You yanked off the strip before you got to three.

“HOLY FUCK!” Your boyfriend screamed. You took his face in your hands and peppered it with kisses.

“You ready for the other side?”

“No. But....just do it.” He flinched, feeling you press another strip under his other arm.

Felix:

Felix had been in the bathroom for three hours. You were starting to get a little worried. After another hour without hearing the shower or water running, you decided to check on him. Your knuckles tapped on the wooden door. “Felix, baby, you okay?”

“Actually could you come in? I need some help.” His deep voice floated through the door. The scene that greeted you when you opened the door almost made you laugh out loud. Felix was standing shirtless in front of the mirror his arm raised above his head. Foamy soap was in his armpit and he held scissors in his hand, the blade having little traces of foam soap on it. “What?” He asked when you started laughing.

“Felix, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m trying to shave. We are filming at a water park tomorrow.”

You could no longer hold in your laughs. Felix watched you fall to the floor clutching your side. “Oh my gosh....I can’t breathe.” You said between labored laughs.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He asked completely serious. You smiled seeing your boyfriend look at you with utter confusion his arm still slightly raised. He watched you lean in and place a kiss to his lips. “What was that for?” He asked, though he thoroughly enjoyed the kiss. He smiled feeling your fingers play with the end of his hair.

“You are too cute.” He blushed and looked down. “If you needed to borrow a razor all you had to do was ask, baby.” He smiled and kissed you again.

“Can I use your razor, please, darling?” I reached into the nearest drawer, a hand still on Felix’s cheek, and pulled out the shaving utensil. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“What’s mine is yours, Lix.”

Seungmin:

“Hey, Y/n?” Your boyfriend called.

You set down the spoon you were stirring with and turned down the heat on the stove. “Coming, Min. One sec!” You wiped your hands on a towel before following your boyfriend’s call into your bathroom.

He was on his knees and searching for something under your sink. “Hey, can I borrow your razor?” He questioned as if he was simply asking the time. The question confused you. He wanted to borrow your razor? Like the one you shaved your legs with?

“My what?”

“Your razor.”

Still quite confused you walked into your bedroom and pulled out your still semi-full suitcase. You had gotten back from a trip a few days ago and Seungmin had spent the last few nights at your place. He claimed that it was because he needed a break from the boys, but you knew he missed you. His arms wrapped around your stomach from behind and he watched you search through your bag for the shaving utensil.

“Why do you need this again?” You asked, pulling out your toiletry bag.

“Cause I usually borrow Jisung’s before a performance but Changbin stole it before I could.”

“I’m gonna ignore how unhygienic that is.” You said pulling out a clean razor from under your shampoo bottle. “Here you go.” His hand brushed yours when he took the commercial blade from your grip.

“Thanks cutie.” He surprised you by pressing an exaggerated kiss to your cheek before running back to the bathroom.

“KIM SEUNGMIN IF YOU CLOG MY RAZOR I WILL CASTRATE YOU.”

“I KNOW!”

Jeongin:

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called. Innie was somewhere in your apartment doing something. This was one of the few days the Jeongin had free of any schedules and you were ecstatic he chose to spend it with you at home.

He turned when you opened the door to the bedroom. Jeongin sat on the edge of the bed in a loose tank top. “What’s up, handsome?” You asked jumping onto the bed and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Do you have a razor I could borrow?” Your brows furrowed in thought. To your recollection, you only had wax strips. They gave you a closer shave job than a razor. He sighed when you shook your head ‘no’.

You rubbed his shoulder and he gave you a half-assed smile. “I have wax strips. They will be a little painful, but they will get the job done.” Jeongin let out a nervous laugh before shrugging and letting me go get the strips from the bathroom.

“How much is it gonna hurt?” He asked, eyes going soft. He laid down on the bed at your direction and raised his arms over his head.

“Not as much getting your ears pierced.” You said placing the wax strip in his armpit and smoothing it out.

“I don’t have my ears pierced.”

“Yeah, when are you gonna do that? You would look really hot with piercings.” In the middle of your sentence, you ripped away the paper making your boyfriend yelp in pain. “Aww....baby.” You leaned down and kissed his cheek before moving to his lips.

“You’re right that wasn’t too bad.”

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

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