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noosayog · 10 months

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[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa. angst.

wc: 1.8k

part 3. directory here.

Things progress quite quickly after your meeting. It seems that time is intent on passing, relentless in its pursuit of your union. Both kingdoms agree that the engagement period will be spent in Prince Kuroo’s castle, with an entourage and dedicated chaperone from your own kingdom following of course. During the short week Prince Kuroo had spent on in your castle, you dutifully escorted him around the castle, showing him the library and having tea together in the gardens. No time is spared to spend with Sir Matsukawa, Sir Hanamaki, and Toru in the forests behind the castle. They offer your concerned, questioning glances when you pass them in the halls, but you walk by with no acknowledgement, continuing your chat with the foreign prince.

And Prince Kuroo is kind and funny. You think with time, you could even be friends. But there can be no furthering of the relationship beyond that, not when your heart is already set on your first and last love. Prince Kuroo is also shrewd and intelligent. Your sighs, bleak looks, and often daydreaming goes noticed and he has bluntly diagnosed your afflictions as love sickness. He has told you as much. You had neither agree nor disagreed but it mattered not because you both knew.

The week had passed and Hajime had not shown himself once. You are too tired for disappointment anymore as you watch your trunks get packed away onto the carriage. In a great show of understanding, your father allows the knights and Toru to offer you an embrace for goodbye. They whisper their well wishes and your brother kindly brushes away the tears gathered in your eyes.

“Hopefully, this isn’t the last time I see you before you’re married, little sis.”

You only shake your head sadly.

Waving a final watery goodbye to your only friends, you take the proffered hand to mount your carriage only to find it belonging to the one man you have been longing to see. You have no words for him as he guides you up the final steps. His armor-clad fingers are on the door handle when he finally addresses you.

“Your Highness, I will be accompanying you on your journey as your guard.”

~•~

The trip to Nekoma is long and tense. You had been secretly glad that the journey to Nekoma would provide you time away from Hajime, giving you a chance to forget. Irrational anger floods your veins as you see his earnest face from inside the carriage, focused on riding right alongside your vehicle to ensure that he is the closest to you should danger befall the congregation. Even when leaving for another nation, you cannot escape the reminder that he is your guard and your guard only.

However, your anger cannot hold out against the exhaustion that seeps into your bones from the measly one week you had to plan your travel, the same prolonged week that dragged for what felt like days when thinking about your beloved knight.

Your arrival at the Nekoma castle is marked by a hand gently shaking at your shoulder. Hajime’s face fills your vision when you come to, only for him to immediately move away when he sees your eyes blink open. You take his offered hand to dismount and he leads you to where Prince Kuroo is offering his elbow. He is quick to retract his hand and step back three full steps, torso bending to a full bow in proper respect.

Prince Kuroo takes your now vacated hand into his crooked arm and offers a reassuring smile. Inside the palace, he gives you a quick tour of the main chambers including the drawing room, dining room, kitchen, library, and your bedroom. He quickly offers to send maids up to help you prepare for bed upon noticing your poorly-hid yawn and promises that a full tour will be waiting for you tomorrow.

~•~

Surprisingly, you adapt quickly to your time at the Nekoma residence. Prince Kuroo has given you free reign to wander into any crevice of the castle; nothing is off-limits. The freedom within the palace is foreign but oddly disquieting as someone who has been conditioned to maintain the correct facade within the boundaries of a royal residence.

His personal knights are the most comforting, you’ve found. The young knights, Sir Kozume and Sir Haiba are silly and scatterbrained, but easy to converse with. The experienced Sir Kai is soothing and gentle, often showing you around the gardens and beautiful bonsai he is currently caring for. You enjoy watching Sir Yaku and Prince Kuroo bicker, a painfully sweet reminder of the relationship between your Seijoh knights and brother. Contrary to your bleak outlook when you had first arrived, the members of the castle treat you like family.

However, no matter how kind everyone is, it is no easy task to forget about your first love and heartbreak, especially when he hangs around you like a storming rain cloud. You expect Hajime to be pleased that the castle treats you kindly, but you often hear him muttering his complaints, ranging from how they should be treating you with respect to propriety and decorum expected of knights.

You ignore his musings in favor of spending time with Prince Kuroo, which you reason has nothing to do with avoiding spending alone time with Hajime and everything to do with your duty of bettering your relationship with the Prince.

It’s the afternoon of your second week at Prince Kuroo’s castle when he, uncharacteristically serious, broaches the topic of marriage. Sir Kozume stands a distance away behind the prince’s chair while Hajime stands equidistant away behind you.

“Princess,” he begins. “There is no easy way of saying this, but I want to be sure I am nothing but honest with you regarding our union.”

You listen thoughtfully.

“As you know, our marriage is based upon mutual respect and purposed for political gain for both of our nations. However, I believe you and I are both aware that we are not marrying for love. While the time we have spent together has been thoroughly enjoyable, I think we are both of the same opinion that we are meant to be friends.”

This catches you by no surprise. Prince Kuroo is enjoyable company and while handsome, your heart belongs to someone else, something he has known since the first time he met you.

“So, what does that mean for the marriage?” you prompt.

“I propose we carry on to get married.”

You hear clanging of armor behind you. Prince Kuroo’s eyes dart quickly behind you, but he carries on.

“However, this will be nothing but a political union. You are free to have discreet lovers and hobbies while I will do the same. We can be friends who are married in name,” he finishes.

You ponder this for a bit, but have no strong opinions. You have already resigned to give up on your chance to be Hajime’s partner, and having him as a lover will never be in the cards. All that’s left to get as close to happiness as you can is to marry a respectable man your parents approve of and live out your days in peace. Your time in this castle has shown that it’s attainable. Further, hearing Prince Kuroo address the topic so frankly is a symbol of his respect for you as a Princess and representative of your kingdom. And while your father has all but left you no options, this perhaps is the best scenario for you to live out the rest of your life as your father wishes but equally as you wish.

With that, you are about to nod and agree with his proposal, when you feel a stiff, cold hand on your shoulder.

You have not heard Hajime address you directly in so long that his raspy voice startles you.

“I apologize for my interruption,” he starts. He sounds angry. “But, may I consult with the Princess before we agree to your proposal?”

“We?” you echo.

“Yes, your Highness,” his eyes bore into yours. “We need to discuss this matter.”

“Ha-” you start. No, you should no longer address him by his given name, especially not in front of your betrothed. “Sir-” No, that does not feel right either.

“There is no need to discuss any further,” you say instead. “My decision has been made.”

“Your Highness-” he begins to raise his voice.

You would be surprised by his lack of decorum if you were not exhausted. Completely spent and wrung out from heartbreak. The time spent with the lively knights of Nekoma have only just revived your spirit. Even if you have vowed to never fall in love with another again, that does not mean you do not want a chance to be free from the anguish of seeing your lost love’s face everyday. Prince Kuroo’s offer also comes with respite from seeing Hajime everyday. Your mind is made up and the two weeks of silence from Hajime has only made your heart firmer.

“There is nothing to discuss,” you repeat, louder. “I accept your proposal.”

“Princess!” Hajime protests.

Prince Kuroo looks curiously at your knight. In your time spent with the prince, you have come to understand his instigative nature. You eye him suspiciously, hoping his does not pick a fight with Hajime just because of his tendency to provoke.

“Sir Iwaizumi, I have heard you are quite the accomplished knight.” your fiance interjects pleasantly. “I will send word to King and Prince Oikawa. With my betrothed staying in my castle until the wedding, you are dismissed to return to the Aoba Josai manor.”

Your eyes widen, but you make no move to refute.

Hajime bows stiffly. “Respectfully, your Excellency, I cannot and will not leave the side of my princess without King Oikawa or Prince Toru’s permission.”

Prince Kuroo arches an eyebrow. “As the future husband of Princess Oikawa, I am authorizing your discharge and ordering you to return to your kingdom.”

Standing firm, Hajime meets his eyes to contradict but you grab hold of his arm to stop him.

Addressing Prince Kuroo, you say, “I will speak to him.”

Your fiancé thankfully steps down and you drag Hajime to your chambers.

Upon shutting the door, Hajime speaks first. “I will not be leaving your side, Princess. Further, if I may speak frankly-”

“You may not. I have no desire to hear your opinions about my future husband-”

“Princess,” he raises his voice. “He does not respect you nor this marriage! He plans on gallivanting off with other women whilst you are wed. This union will not bring you happiness!”

“As opposed to what?” you ask slowly. “I have told you where my happiness lies and you have denied me. I am only doing what is expected of me, like you have reminded me. This is my duty as Princess.”

“Princess, I expected the Prince to be a respectable man who would treat you well. He has not proven himself as such!”

“Enough!” you bellow. “You have made your intentions to be my guard and my guard only very clear. I have made my decision and as your liege, you will respect that.”

“Princess!”

“You will return to Toru’s side while I remain. This is an order.”

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blissful-clown · 1 year

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Bittersweet Lis: Bonnibelle!!!

NOT FINAL. JUST STUFF I MADE UP WHILE DAYDREAMING. maybe I'll draw her soon idk

Backstory ??? idk if there are plot holes uh

Parents divorced when she was 4 because her mom fell out of love with her dad

They were living in France (I guess she was born there but uh both parents are Filipino though) But after the divorce, She and her dad moved to the PH

She mostly spent time with her Grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins

Her mom sometimes visits her from France and she usually just shows up when her dad’s like not around because the tension is weird with both of them in the room

Oh she has a friend in France named Bennet he was like their neighbour and they just communicate online lmao

Her dad is always at work and when he’s at home he avoids her and always sits under a mango tree outside their house just thinking and his eyes just full of sadness (bro is coping)

One time she tripped and her dad was right in front of her and she stood up and stared at him to see if he’d respond but he barely even spared her a glance even after burning a hole through his head. Her grandma just found her standing with the blood from her wound already reached the ground and rushed her inside.

It was like this for a while until she was 12 when her dad decided “bro get yo shit together u have a daughter” then boom he tried to approach her little by little by helping her with her math homework and yeah they’re good now 💥💥💥

When she was 14 she moved to America because her dad got a job opportunity there and boom

Omg bennet in america too?! Meeting my bestie irl (REAL!!!)

Oh wait did I mention she ROLLER SKATES?! Yeah she does she’d brag about it to Bennet all the time

Their relationship is almost kinda like siblings

Dad found a bee eff?!?!!!? Bro has another dad now 🤯 AND a 5 yr old step brother

She also has an art account and it grew following wow!!!

She met her girlfriend during prom when she was 15 wowowow!

She would give her gf those small music boxes every week with a cute note and doodle

They were all silly and happy until her gf’s dad found out about them and they were just walking around then boom her gf’s dad saw them and he punched bonnie right in the face and it was all blurry for her after that

They weren’t able to talk and then one day her gf just moved unannounced and she never saw her again they lasted for 2 years 😢

Bro was heartbroken as HELLL

Oh yeah and soon after all that her brother had a birthday party and did i mention her step-dad’s EX WIFE?! 🤯🤯🤯 yeah she showed and yeah she knows about her and she was like stopping her from coming in but she just got punched in the face AGAIN what a loser lmao

Bittersweet!!

She moved right after college out of impulse (no deep backstory or anything one day she was just like ya what if I move then boom)

Oh ya remember that art account thing yeah she makes money by taking commissions

She got into baking because that was how she would cope with stress now she also has that as a source of income woooo

Met alphonse?! I guess he found her walking around and she was thinking of her gf? She’s moved on but she thinks about her sometimes and yah all that other stuff that happened in the audio

Got interested in alphonse because he is literally PINK and she found the way he talked funny (in like a good way)

Seth appearance real!!! Im not gonna go into too much detail uhh she was just standing there and she was pretty understanding about the whole thing

She wasn’t sure if it was gonna be a good idea to approach seth but she did anyway!!! Bro was shitting herself that morning of the confrontation!!!!

It was kinda awkward with seth at first but she was really nice to him and stuff and yeah real!!!!

All the other stuff that happened in audios wow!!; i dont feel like typing everything anymore uh

Other stuff that aren’t final:

The first friend she ever made in school when she moved to america was casper (yeas, charlie’s lis) casper would talk about charlie all the time. Bonnie thought charlie was fucking DEAD because of the way he talked about him LMAOO (wait hold on this doesnt make sense anymroe I'm gonna change this)

Majored in BA Fine arts and BS Psychology

thought of adding some filipino mythology to her but that might be too extra

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice bittersweet #yuurivoice listener

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permanentcrossfics · 3 years

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Blurred Lines: A Different Christmas // h.s.

How do we write Christmas fics in a really weird year? I’m still not sure, but I tried to string together a bit of relief for the end of December. I’m shutting myself up now, even though there’s lots I want to say. This is for anyone who wants it, anyone who needs it, anyone who enjoys it (or hates it!) silently and vocally alike. My Christmas gift is the happy and unexpected bonus of anyone reading what I have so much selfish fun thinking of and spinning out. Happy and Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and a happy and merry end of December if you don’t and are just doing you! x

9.1k

It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree – something real in a year that had felt anything but – was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?

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“You coming home with me this year?”

Again. He asked the same question you’ve been dodging for weeks since plans had started to look uncertain again, not because he was pestering you, but because somehow, some way, you were both hoping for an answer with a loophole.

“I can’t,” you said softly, regretfully, holding your phone close to your face with one arm as you curled up under the duvet of a bed in an apartment that had somehow become yours together instead of his alone throughout the course of a very new, very different, very unsettling year. “For a few reasons.”

And he knew that.

Harry’s deep breath crackled and he dragged his hand down his face, holding it there as he shook his head, the thought processes you’d learned to read so well hidden from view.

You’d liked going home with him last year -- loved it, even. You’d hardly had time to look forward to a repeat when the world had flipped in the first quarter or sooner, and the sand had just kept slipping through the hourglass until all time for hope of a new and normal Christmas was gone and sucked away into the void of the year.

So many plans. So many memories that lived only as memories of daydreams now. So much else, so much more important, devastating, and tragic you couldn’t even put it into words and, frankly, didn’t want to. Not now -- you spent too much time thinking about it to think about it now, too.

“Filming’s done soon,” he said from behind his hand. “I can book my flight to New York--”

“Harry--”

“And then go to Manchester after Christmas -- after the New Year, we always take a bit of a longer break. Mum won’t mind--”

“Your mother’s barely seen you since last Christmas,” you said. “Your sister, too, and there’s not enough time to--”

“Course there is!”

“Two weeks quarantine in each?” you asked. “That’s a month of staying put, let alone--”

A split second glance at his face was all you saw before the screen went black and you bit your tongue. He hadn’t hung up, because you’d heard the soft thud when his phone collided with his chest, and you could hear him breathing now, so you waited, suppressing your own urge to snap as he had his. Despite having spent the better part of the year together, it was frustrating to think about not being together for the season. All you wanted was him, though you knew better than to voice it out loud. He’d do it -- for you, he’d do it if you asked him to -- and you’d have to live with the guilt of taking him away from his family at the time of year where family should be together most, if it mattered to them. And you’d been weirdly lucky enough to have him most of the year between carefully navigated business trips. He was only one man with one body. It didn’t -- couldn’t -- matter that you wanted him, too.

That you wanted to be with the man you loved.

When he picked up the phone again, his face was drawn, tired, and not just from filming, you suspected.

“Go home,” you urged, swallowing the break in your voice. “You miss home, and home misses you. I’ll have fun decorating and send you all the pictures you won’t be able to do anything about.”

His throat bobbed hard, audibly, and his eyes looked dangerously shiny.

“Next year I’ll go home with you,” you said, burrowing half your face into your pillow. “London and Holmes Chapel both.”

“Next year,” he said eventually, voice raspy. “We’ll have Christmas at home next year.”

You nodded, forcing the lump rising up, up, and up back down. “You should go to sleep,” you said. “It’s late and you have to be up early.”

“Later for you,” he said and you sighed, noting the 3:08 timestamp at the top of your screen.

“Let’s go,” you said. “Call me when you can.”

“I will.” Sad, but resigned. You wanted to reach through the screen and touch the downturned corners of his mouth to push them back upright again. “Sleep well, and I love you.”

Taking a deep breath, you murmured, “I love you, too,” before hanging up the call and the room descended into darkness and you into a fitful sleep.

***

At first, you were determined to make the most of it. Your studio had always been small, cozy, and Christmasy to the best of your abilities, but his -- your -- apartment had so many more possibilities. Candles were the first to be set out, with strategic clusters of red, green, and gold-colored wax placed all about and nestled in fake holly wreaths. String lights that cast a pretty glow lined windows even in the bedroom for some last minute holiday cheer, and despite the urge to drive him up a wall, you did your best to only pick out other decorations that you’d both like and want to use in the future. Because as much as you might avoid talking about it in many certain terms the longer the relationship went on (it still felt so funny to think that a one night stand had turned into a relationship), there was a future. He was your future. It wasn’t your first Christmas together, but it might be your last one apart.

He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree -- something real in a year that had felt anything but -- was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?

Wiping your nose, you stood, eyes heavy, swollen, and itchy. With your coat gone, you heaved the tree up until it was sitting securely in its stand, needles scattered in its wake but branches full and outstretched, enveloping you in the warm smell of Christmas in a way the cedar- and balsam-scented candles couldn’t. Stepping back with your hands on your hips, you looked up at it, the swell of your anxiety simmering, thanks partly to your crying fit and partly to succeeding at the task. You’d decorate it bit by bit to draw the season out, and then on Christmas Eve, you’d call him and you’d both sit by your own trees and talk until it was Christmas Day for him. It was just for now -- this wasn’t the way of all ways for all time.

Click.

You nearly passed out cold from the rush of fearful adrenaline shooting through you when the lock on the door clicked. In three seconds, you ran through whether or not you’d locked the door, determined that you had but then had forgotten, and figured out that somehow, someone had gotten in and they weren’t supposed to. You spun, frozen, brain zooming to determine if you dove behind a sofa or if you charged, but you didn’t get the chance before the door opened.

A duffle bag, a foot, a body, in that order, and then a pair of wide, green eyes rimmed with circles just above a cloth mask.

“You do not get to be mad at me,” he said, voice muffled. He grunted and pushed the door open wider to bring in the rest of his luggage as you stood there, as equally speechless as you were breathless. “I tested before I came here,” he said, speaking with a loud if exhausted sort of authority, like he was trying to get the words out before you could protest. “But I’ll take the guest room, and I’ll get my own food, and we’ll keep out of each other’s space until the two weeks are up.”

He brought his bags in the rest of the way, and it was only when he was halfway by you that he stopped in his tracks. “Y’haven’t moved,” he said, eyebrows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Are you all right?”

Lightheaded, you nodded.

“O… kay,” he said, stilted, still eyeing you. “M’just gonna go get settled and showered, then.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, the words finally forcing themselves from you.

“S’Christmas.”

“You’re supposed to--”

“Mum knows,” he interrupted. “M’taking Christmas here this year. Gem’ll have Christmas with her and I’ll go along after. She’s excited about having two. ‘Scuse me….”

Nodding, you waved him away to hurry, shoo, because you could feel the emotions rising in you again and your confusion wasn’t enough to quell them. Fifteen minutes ago, you’d been kneeling on the floor with aching knees, crying, and now here he was.

You’d wrestle with the confliction of doing what was right and doing what you wanted… later. Later, when you could wrap your head around it and the choice he’d made.

Two weeks. That would put you just on Christmas Day, basically. Just two weeks.

***

Dodging him around the apartment was a lot more difficult than you would’ve guessed for how big it was. More than once you nearly slammed into him in the kitchen, and someone was always in the favored bathroom. For his part, he’d taken to wearing a mask when he roamed, and even though you told him he didn’t have to do that, all he did was hum behind it. You got it -- the positive result from the crewperson on set had spooked everyone, and he was being safe. You both were being safe, but for as mindful as you’d been throughout, all you wanted to do was hold him, hug him, kiss him. Video calls were ridiculous when you were in the same house and you could hear his laugh through the walls. But you got it, and if you kicked too much he’d book a hotel to quarantine away from you, so you’d rather have him here, as selfish and risky as it was.

It was three days into your little bubble that he finally dared to get within arm’s reach of you. You were mulling over where to put the chimney sweep ornament when he shuffled over to the foot of the ladder you were leaning on, and you raised an eyebrow, arm outstretched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He shook his head, the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. “Just watching,” he said from behind his mask.

“You’re standing a little close, aren’t you?” you teased. Jokes were all you had -- all anyone had this year, if they were lucky.

Immediately, he scowled -- how funny you could tell what his face looked like so clearly even with the cloth stretched firmly across it -- and you giggled. “Watch what you’re doing,” he said, taking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab the ladder legs, and with his support, you held on tightly and leaned over to place it on the prime branch.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to pass me that box?”

He did so and you murmured your thanks, resting it on the top step as you pulled ornaments out to hang them.

“Not there,” he said before you could drop a hook over a branch with a snowflake. “Give it… thank you.” He took it carefully from you and placed it on a different one closer to him, lower than where you were placing it but slightly higher than you could reach without a ladder.

“Thank you.”

Together, slowly, ornaments were hooked and rehooked (and rehooked yet again when one of you noticed the other had moved them from a spot you each thought was perfect) until the tree was trimmed, each branch heavily laden, bearing the weight of ornaments and of providing joy after the year behind.

“How’d you get this home?” he asked, looking up at it with you once you were off the ladder.

“Carefully,” you said dryly. “Oh! The top.” You turned, but he cut across your path.

“I’ve got it,” he said, grabbing the box from the precarious stack next to the coffee table.

“I want to,” you whined and he snorted.

“You’ve done the whole bloody thing,” he said without venom. “Let me do just the one.” With it in hand, he climbed the ladder as you held it steady, and he set it on the topmost branch, prodding it until it was tall and straight up, all five points outstretched and shining.

“That’s perfect,” you said under your breath, resting your head on his leg, and he patted the top of your head gently. You stayed like that for a minute, two, three, and more, with your arm curling around his calf, embracing as much physical contact as he’d allowed since he came home. “How many more days?”

“Eleven.” He sounded thoughtful, resentful, and exhausted all in one go. You squeezed his leg and kissed his knee through his joggers.

“Then it’s Christmas,” you said.

He exhaled slowly, still patting your head. “Christmas morning.”

***

Eleven. Whole. Days.

Eleven days of more of the same. He’d eased up, thankfully, and dared to venture a little closer with a mask on, because, as you’d reminded him, he had tested negative. You sat on opposite ends of the couch, enjoying the Christmas tree and decorations together, laughing, talking, planning, and exchanging stories about everything that had happened while you were apart. His, of course, were wildly more interesting, but he somehow managed to hang onto every word of even your most droll and mundane ones, and always with the right questions and supportive murmurs of agreement as necessary.

Eleven days of saying goodnight and crawling into a bed that was too big for one when two was next door.

Eleven days of not being able to share meals properly or touch each other -- sex aside -- and eleven days of Hell.

“It’s your fault,” you said one night from your end of the couch, scowling with your arms crossed. The tree twinkled happily despite your sour mood, and music that was too merry and bright played from the television.

“Me?” he asked indignantly.

“Yes! You had to do that stupid film.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“You’re wearing a mask in our home,” you said, burrowing into the cushions. “If I want to call it stupid, I will.”

He groaned, dropping his head forward. “Baby….”

You grunted.

“It’s only a couple more days. A couple more days, and then it’s Christmas. Think of it like a present you’re waiting for.”

Despite yourself, you snorted.

“I’m all you want for Christmas, aren’t--?”

“Shut up,” you said, kicking his thigh with your extended leg. He snickered, eyes crinkled and full of light all their own.

“Couple more days,” he said, patting your ankle. “Couple more days, and then you won’t even be able to get rid of me. We’ll be in bed all weekend.”

“I’m not calling your mother from bed.”

He waggled his brows with some exaggeration and you rolled your eyes.

That had been around day five, maybe six. Suffice it to say, by Christmas Eve, you were done.

“It’s one day!” you said over breakfast in the kitchen. “One day, Harry!”

“We made it this long,” he said, pouring hot coffee into a mug that had his face printed onto the head of dancing elf -- a gift from his mother shipped along with a matching one for you that she insisted you both open ahead of time to enjoy for as long as possible. “We can make it a couple more hours.”

“If I stripped naked, what would you do? Stand there and watch me?”

He froze and looked at you over his mask, the heated warning pinning you in place. Huffing, you pushed the stool away from the counter and hopped off it.

“Where are you--?”

“Out,” you said. “I’m going to get--” You floundered. “Coffee.”

A beat passed and his eyes dropped to the mug in his hand.

“We literally have--”

“I’m going out!” you said, wrapping your neck and half your face up in a scarf to keep warm. You were going out, because you were mad, and the tantrum was burgeoning. That poor man had seen more unreasonable tantrums from you this year than he had in the entire two and a half you’d reciprocally acknowledged each other’s presence, and you hated it. But he’d hate it, too, if you’d gone on a trip for work and come back and things were off.

Could be worse, you reminded yourself. It could be so very, very much worse.

“I love you,” you said, calmly, firmly. “I’ll be back. I’m only going around the block. Take that--” You waved at his mask, “--off. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way in..”

When you returned, he was in the guest room, but a fresh cup of coffee in your own dancing elf mug rested on a mug warming plate. The last of your frustrations that hadn’t melted with the walk deflated and you picked it up, enjoying the aroma before taking a deep sip.

He always made it better. And the coffee was nice, too.

His mother called in the afternoon and you hardly noticed he was at your side until the phone was in front of your face and you gave a startled hello.

“Has he been wearing that the whole time he’s been home with you?” she asked, her gleaming eyes and wide, genuine smile matching her son’s own warmth.

Home. With you.

“He has,” you said.

“S’posed to be proud of me,” Harry said and Anne laughed.

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re still calling tomorrow?” she asked you.

“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll be here.”

“Next year will be different, won’t it?” she all but clucked. “Did you like your mugs? I got one for me, Gemma, and Michal, too.”

“Used them just this morning,” he said, squeezing your hip and wandering away. “Won’t be posting them anywhere for people to see, though….”

Eventually -- finally -- the day drew to a close, and you crawled into bed with the knowledge that it was just one more night. One more night, and then in the morning you could say hello like you wanted to. One more night and you wouldn’t want to bite his head off. One more night and you wouldn’t feel so mental, as he would put it.

And yet, lying there, the minutes dragged. Ten? No, just one. Fifteen? Five.

It felt like Christmas, though. As much as this was pure torture, this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like -- like it used to feel when you were a kid and you’d wait for weeks tingling anticipation, counting down, hoping that you’d find what you wanted under the tree, bursting with more energy than any amount of sugar could give you. Except instead of presents, or money, or sweets, you were waiting for the man who’d been under your nose for two weeks by this point. You got to kiss your boyfriend tomorrow. You got to see your boyfriend, hold your boyfriend, and celebrate Christmas with your boyfriend.

Twenty minutes? Two.

12:02.

Two minutes after midnight.

Christmas.

Fourteen days.

Oh!

You sprang from the bed before you could think about the matter and darted to the door over the cold wooden floor, but when you rounded the corner in the hallway, out of nowhere, something all but slammed into you. Sucking in a sharp breath with a screwed up face, you squeaked when you collided with a very warm, very sturdy frame. Belatedly, two arms shot out to grab you by yours to steady you. “Oh my God, I--”

Hair, forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth, too. No mask.

“Are you o--?”

He didn’t get to finish his question. You clapped your hands over his cheeks and kissed him soundly before he could kiss you first. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d laugh -- you both would -- but rather than that, he locked both his arms around you tightly and spun you, teetering precariously with you in tow until you got to the guest bed. Tackle was an apt word for how he delivered you to it, but you were the farthest thing from upset at finally having not even an inch of space between you. The bed smelled like him and it was warm, he was warm, and you were kissing again, and again, and again, cold noses smushing together as you found new angles.

“Christmas,” he mumbled between them.

“Mmhm,” you returned against his mouth, legs interlocking with his. “I missed you,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too.”

Shivering, you both pulled the duvet up over your shoulders, and you curled up against him. Cologne, skin, and laundry detergent, with a bit of his minty toothpaste. There was no scented candle for that. You pressed your fingers against his chest and scratched lightly through the smattering of hair there. “We could go to our bed,” you reminded him, but he shook his head.

“Y’here now,” he rasped, leaning in to press his lips comfortably to your hairline, one arm draped over your back. “Let’s stay here tonight and we can change things later.”

“Were you coming to get me?” you asked, voice shaking as the last of the shivers left your bones.

“Yeah,” he admitted. You laughed, teeth chattering, and he pulled you closer. “Don’t laugh!” he said, rubbing your back and warming you. “S’been two weeks for me, hasn’t it?”

“For you!”

“You try bein’ home with you for that long,” he mumbled.

Shaking again, but less than before, you kissed the underside of his chin. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***

When you woke up, his back was to you, and his one shoulder was rising and falling with the rhythm of his sputtery, wheezy snores. You smiled, closing your eyes, and snuggled into the pillow. Better -- much better. You dozed on for an unknown amount of time, and you were walking the line between sleep and consciousness when featherlight kisses across your brow startled you and you jerked awake.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, only sounding slightly truthful. You made a noise and stretched, shaking from head to toe before curling up into a tight little ball next to him and opening your eyes fully. His own were puffy with sleep, but he grinned radiantly as if he’d been awake for a while.

“What?” you asked in a croak.

“Nothing,” he said. “Mum’s gonna call soon.”

Groaning, you halfheartedly turned your head to look over your shoulder. “What time is it?” you asked, straining to see the window and get a gauge.

“S’ten,” he said. “So about three for them. Sure you don’t want to call from bed?”

You glowered at him and his lip twitched. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

When you finally managed to leave the warm nest of the bed, the living room had been transformed. The tree was on, twinkling under the streams of light pouring in through the windows, and he’d lit the fireplace, too, flames licking up and up behind the glass. Soft, melodic Christmas music floated from the far corners of the room, and the smell of coffee tickled your nose.

“So,” he said from his spot at the island as he unwrapped cheeses and opened jars of olives, and jams, and honeys, and other goodies. “What time do we pop the bubbly?”

Laughing softly, you shuffled over. “It’s ten.”

“Little after ten now,” he said, lips pressed tightly together and arms flexed until the lid popped. “And somewhere in the world it’s five o’clock.”

You pulled a grape off the bunch lying on the counter and popped it into your mouth, chewing not so delicately but enjoying the sweet burst of freshness. You’d no sooner swallowed than his phone started buzzing and you grabbed it, sliding your finger to answer the call from the incoming Mum and pointing it at him.

“Happy Christmas, honey.” Anne’s voice was warm even through the phone, and Harry’s head whipped up.

“Wh-- Happy Christmas-- didn’t know you were-- ‘scuse the mess,” he said as you giggled behind the phone.

“Having a good morning so far?”

“Goin’ ok, yeah,” he said. “Just getting started, heating up the coffee.”

“Where’s your better half gotten off to?”

Trying not to melt, you waved your hand in front of the camera.

“Hello, love,” she said. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Anne.”

“Are we going to get to see you today?”

“Fair’s fair,” Harry chimed in. “Turn that thing around, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you flipped the phone and waved, sliding around the counter to stand next to him.

“That’s better,” Anne said with a firm nod. She had a red top on with a festive, sparkly necklace, and looked a good deal more put together than either one of you.

“Where’s Gem?” Harry asked, taking the phone from you so you could unbox the crackers.

“Upstairs napping off the morning,” she said. “She’ll want to call again later.”

And that was how the morning went, with each of you passing his mother back and forth while you carried plates and trays full of snacks to the coffee table and couch in front of the tree to nibble while tearing into gifts on camera, including a box full of chocolates for you, Branston pickle for him, and Christmas crackers for both of you to have, “A little bit of home this year.”

“Thank you,” you said, clutching your sweets close. “And thank you for--” Unbidden, you choked up, and Harry glanced at you sharply, his inquisition vanishing with his understanding. For sharing him -- allowing you to steal him away during the holidays in a year where everyone needed family, either by blood or choice. He squeezed your shoulders and his mother, as adept as he was at redirecting a conversation, piped up.

“Promise you’ll come see us again next year,” Anne said. “It’s been too long.”

“It has been,” you agreed, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Maybe sooner.” Harry looked down at you. “If things ease up?”

You nodded. “Summer in London,” you mused. “That would be nice.”

“And then a bit of time back home. We could go before things pick up in August.”

Summer in London. A beacon of hope you couldn’t erect just yet, but a beacon nevertheless. A bit of time with him before he, hopefully, went back to work and you got to revisit adjusted and postponed plans.

The rest of your Christmas Day was quiet -- different from the year before when you’d been overwhelmed with names, faces, screeches of Uncle Harry, and not being sure how to break your way in. You kept trays of cheese, crackers, and other snacks within an arm’s reach, and by the early afternoon both of you had a comfortably steady buzz from the bubbly he was good at topping off both your glasses with -- never sloppily drunk, but enough to be warm in your fingers and toes and to seek out cuddles from him under the blanket you were snuggled in on the sofa with paper crowns on both your heads.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, ribs crunched from how far you’d slid down on the sofa to nestle into his side, all but eye-level with his chest. “And have it not be as awful as it sounds?”

You felt his laugh before you heard it. “Sure,” he drawled. “What is it?”

Squeezing his wrist, you turned your mouth into his forearm, eyes on the television as a snowman leapt and bounded over a wide, snowy plain before jumping into the air. “I like this Christmas,” you admitted into his skin.

Harry snorted. “S’not awful, s’the point -- Christmas is supposed to be likeable.”

“You know what I mean,” you said, sighing. “I know it’s just us and there’s no family or anyone around, but… I dunno… it’s not all bad, is it?”

“Like having me to yourself?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Shut up,” you mumbled.

He kissed the top of your head, crown crunching under it, and you grunted. “S’not so bad,” he said into your hair. “Like having you all to myself, too, y’know.”

“You’re just saying that because you have to because you’re stuck with me,” you said and he laughed with another smacking kiss.

“Not stuck with me yet,” he crooned. “Can leave any time you want.”

“Maybe I will….”

“Oi!”

Giggling, you untangled yourself from him and squirmed out from underneath the blanket. “More bubbly?”

***

Boxing Day was a Christmas redux, with more cheese, sparkling wine, music, and calls with family and friends. Long distance versions of old favorite games were adapted and adopted, and you snickered quietly from the corner of the couch, staying out of his way when he shouted about how he had hit the button, it was his trackpad that hadn’t worked.

The late afternoon and on, though, was yours together and alone with the time difference breaking up the party earlier than it normally would be. The bittersweet cloud vanished, though, when you at some point you separated even further into your own activities -- him with his stack of new books and you with a film you played quietly on your laptop. Able to be near each other without having to be wrapped up and begging with your bodies for sorely missed attention, it finally, really, felt like home again.

“It’s so pretty out,” you murmured, nose pressed to the windowpane to see as much of the light-lined streets as you could. It got dark earlier and earlier these days, and yet later than it had even a few days ago. “I love Christmas in New York. I wish--” You caught yourself ahead of finishing the sentence, thinking better.

You wished it was a normal year -- for many reasons -- so you two could go out and see the city. So you could show him your favorite places, so you could make memories together like you had with him last year. It wasn’t anything life altering or new, but it was different when you were with someone you loved. You wanted him to know you -- all of you, even the unknowable parts.

“Y’know,” he said next to your ear, hand on the back of your neck as he slunk up behind you, “it’s getting pretty late.”

You turned your head slightly, looking at him in the reflection of the glass. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Too early for sleep. Was he asking for sex?

Harry hummed and shook his head. “How ‘bout you get your coat on?” he murmured. “Let’s have that Boxing Day walk we didn’t get last year.”

“Now?”

“When else?” he said. “Haven’t been out yet, and it’s late. Streets’ll be empty. We can go wherever, do whatever, see whatever.”

“You’re serious?”

Nodding, he pulled you by the arm and you stumbled with him, still processing it even as you pulled beanies on with masks and (winter) gloves.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

He shrugged, calling the elevator. “Dunno,” he said. “Figured you’d lead the way. Show me your favorite bits. Seem t’remember summat about Bryant Park last year.”

There were sobering realities at the street level, too. Gates were down on storefronts that hadn’t been pulled up since March, awnings above them tattered from months of neglect and ‘For Rent’ signs flapping against them in the wind. The usual post-holiday influx of tourists was thinned, with hardly a white sneaker in sight, and everything was just a little quieter than it should be and would be in a usual year.

But there were lights. Broadway’s may have dimmed for the time being, but endless, endless displays of lights, brighter without the ambient light pouring from storefronts diminishing their power, offered beacons of hope -- literal lighthouses in a storm of a year -- and led you uptown like a trail of breadcrumbs.

You pulled him this way and that way, weaving through side streets to look at any display that looked bright enough from a distance, fingers locked tightly with his in a way they never were outside of the house. As bittersweet as it was no one was out, it afforded you a level of privacy you never had, anywhere. Not even Holmes Chapel. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d ever held his hand for this long at one time, if you were honest, and while you didn’t need it, you enjoyed the option.

In between zigs and zags, he mumbled stories to you about this time, and another time, and a time after that, pointing at buildings, venues, restaurants, and hotels, and you listened half in awe and half in earnest. It was a whole other life he’d lived without you before, and you’d only been aware of the surface of it. Nobody knew what he was telling you except the people he’d lived it with, and you didn’t think you’d ever get over or be able to thank him for trusting you to be someone he chose to share it with.

“I love Sixth,” you said, sighing as you walked past giant red Christmas ornaments three times the size of you both, the reflection of the string lights wrapped around tree branches bouncing off their shiny surfaces. Radio City’s electric red script beamed at you both from a distance, and traffic lights winked and waved in the wind up and down the avenue. “They do a lot with it.”

“It’s pretty,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Tree’s this way, isn’t it?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah,” you said.

He jerked his head and you blinked.

“You want to?” you asked.

“Just a bit,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“There’s people!” you warned him, because even from here you could see the trickle of people with the same thought. “And I saw online they have a schedule--”

“We don’t have to get close,” he said, pulling you firmly. “S’big enough we don’t need to, just wanna take a peek.”

He was so certain, but you were less so, because all you needed was someone to see him to break the serene bubble you’d blown around yourselves. Despite that, you shuffled with him until the tree was visible, a bright, glowing ball of multi-colored lights stretching towards the sky. “Wow,” you whispered under your breath.

“S’nice,” he said and you nodded your agreement. It was nice -- despite the sad press it had gotten, the tree had turned out very nice at the end of it all, tall and impossibly beating all odds. What a metaphor for the year.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, squeezing him around the middle.

“Come here,” Harry said next to your ear.

“Hmm?” Reluctantly tearing your eyes from the tree, you gasped when he pulled your mask down first and then his own in two swift tugs, revealing a cheeky grin with a face cradled by the fabric. “What are you doing?” you asked, eyes darting around.

“Getting a kiss by the tree with my girlfriend,” he said. “Now, come here,” he repeated. This time, you obliged and allowed him to steal one, two, three kisses, each one of them smashed against your lips with a palpable sort of eagerness that made you think he would drink you if he could. This felt… normal. Normal, safe, and free.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like that.

When you broke and burrowed against his neck, he covered the back of your head and wrapped his other arm around your back, cocooning you in the shell of the most protective embrace he could give. Just a man -- any man, a regular man -- holding the person he loved, and, after his decision to stay with you through Christmas and New Years, he arguably loved you most.

Through the thick knit of your beanie, you felt him kissing your head, and you nuzzled into his scarf. “Thank you,” you said, face safely out of sight. “For coming here.”

“Not mad a’me for it?” he mumbled and you shook your head. “‘Kay, good.”

Shivering, you huddled closer and he tightened his arms, shielding you from the brisk wind.

“People will see,” you said, but despite that you held him closer.

“Who cares?”

He did, despite his quiet rasp. He did, and you knew why he did, but right then, you could pretend that it didn’t matter at all.

***

It was simultaneously the longest and shortest week of your life.

The longest, because time didn’t exist, much like it hadn’t for most of the year. Days, afternoons, evenings, and nights blended together, blurred by a happy holiday haze onset by too much of everything good -- sleep, sustenance, and spirits. The weird, if nice, part of all the extra time was having the chance to do things you’d enjoyed over the course of the year all over again. Nine times out of ten, when the two of you were together, it was rushed even on the long layovers. You’d watch one series or a film the whole way through, and next time you’d have to be on to the next one you’d agreed to hold off on until the other was there, but after having spent most of the year under the same roof, the typical race to the next one was paused. Instead, you settled in for old Christmas films and other ones you hadn’t seen since you first started properly dating, lending a timeless sort of quality to the week.

The shortest, because he’d only just gotten there. How had it been three weeks since he’d walked in the front door with a mask on and a warning? Three weeks, two of them masked, and now it was over and done. The whole year was over and done, with 2020 coming to a slow close after feeling simultaneously like it never would and like it was moving much, much too fast. Who would’ve known this would be how it would turn out after kicking it off in the back of his car with a paper plate full of snacks and the countdown on his phone? You’d made it through another year, together.

“Do you know what I just realized?” you asked as you unpacked the bag from El Diablito at the kitchen counter. In the background, the low hum of commentators on the TV remarking about how different this year was provided a steady buzz amidst familiar scenery of lights in different cities. Berlin had gone first, then London, and now, gradually, the new year on the east coast was gliding ever closer.

“What?” he asked over the noise of him unfurling the bag of tortilla chips.

“This was our first year together,” you said. “Full--” you drew an arc through the air-- “year, I mean. Saying it and all that.”

He didn’t say anything, but when you looked at him the corner of his mouth was lifted up slightly. “S’pose it is, yeah. Feels like longer.” He fished a chip out with his index and middle fingers before crunching into it noisily.

“Almost three years of everything else,” you murmured, unwrapping a taco to inspect it. “This one’s yours.”

“‘Everything else’?” he teased, snickering when you slid the taco across the counter to him. “Watch it, it’ll fall apart….”

“Shut up and eat,” you said and he barked a laugh, grin permanent and eyes sparkling as he unwrapped it to peek.

“In a minute,” he said, setting down his food, satisfied it looked right. “Come here,” he said.

“Why?” you asked, smiling slightly though you eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

He motioned with his hand. “C’mere a minute,” he repeated, voice light but eyes tight, and he swallowed hard. A cold wave washed down you from head to toe. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous, but the nerves themselves spiked your anxiety and made your scalp prickly and your palms sweaty, and they got worse when he grabbed one of your hands -- your left hand -- to hold between his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about summat.”

Oh, God.

“Harry,” you said, but he shook his head.

“Lemme do this.”

Five seconds. Five seconds was all it took to imagine the words coming out of his mouth, quietly, with soft, trusting eyes waiting patiently, hopefully for an answer. Five seconds was all it took for you to imagine mucking it all up with a twisted tongue, not because you weren’t sure what to say, but how to say it. No, no, no -- you didn’t want to hurt him, not even temporarily, not even by accident.

Clearing his throat, he squeezed your hand. “I dunno how to do this,” he said, and for the first time ever, you were pretty sure he laughed without his eyes. You made a noise in your throat and curled your fingertips into his palm. “I love you,” he continued, Adam’s apple bobbing, lips trying and failing to form a smile. He was terrified, but determined, and you held his hand tighter while pressing your opposite one into his cheek.

I love you, too. You couldn’t say it, but you felt them swelling in your chest, growing your heart not two, not even three, but six times over.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “M’going to spend the rest of my life with you,” with a thoughtful quality in his rasp. “I think, if-- if that’s somethin’ you….”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t, you were trying, but it was like sucking in helium.

“So, m’kind of wondering if--”

“Harry--”

“I’m not,” he shook his head. “I’m not asking you anything right now, because we’re not ready.” He rubbed the back of your hand assuringly. “We’re not ready, you have… and I’m….” He exhaled sharply, dropping his head, and your hand moved from his cheek to his hair and you rubbed the back of his neck. “I just want to know,” he said, breathing heavily, with his voice muffled into his chest, talking very fast, barreling through and tripping over words, “if I’m totally off base here. Cause m’not gonna now when there’s so much shit happening, but like… I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth when-- if I do, so if I could just get an idea of what you think, because we had a talk once but now every time you cut me off at the knees and--”

He sputtered, stopping short, and you pressed your face into his short hair.

“I want it,” you said, sounding braver than you felt admitting wants out loud. “I do. I will.”

His shoulders fell with his slow, deep breaths, and you rubbed your fingertips into his scalp gently.

“I will,” you say. “Promise,” you added, voice cracking. “You’re not off base.”

Neither of you said anything for a while. You couldn’t -- you quite literally, physically couldn’t -- and he was gulping for air as quietly as he could.

“Okay,” he said into his chest finally, sounding inexplicably embarrassed. “S’good to know.”

Silly, silly man. Did he really think… did he doubt…? “I love you,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said. “I know y’do.”

“No, you don’t.” You kissed his head. “I love you, I-- you’ll never know.”

Harry took a deep breath before straightening up, head high and curls falling over his forehead above the weariest, most agonized eyes you’d ever seen. His cheeks were bright red, and he might as well have just run a marathon for how spent and miserable he looked.

“I promise,” you repeated. “I promise, honey.”

He nodded slightly, mouth still set in a thin, grim line, and, instinctively, you stepped in to kiss him, because no. No, that wouldn’t do. Stiff and unmoving at first under your lips, gradually he warmed and softened, releasing your hand to grab your hips and you moaned softly, hands running across his shoulders over his hoodie. You promised -- when it was right, when you both could, if he asked and it was what you both wanted? There was only one answer you’d ever give.

The stool scraped against the floor when he stood, but he never broke the kiss, and you squeaked when you stumbled back against the counter. You opened your mouth wider when he coaxed you to, dizzy behind your closed eyes, and you let your hands wander freely, pulling him into you as the intensity behind the kiss escalated from comfort to need.

Two weeks. Two weeks -- three -- of pent up energy. Of hardly being able to touch each other, of being close but not close enough.

“Come here,” he demanded in a mumble, the firm hold he had on your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you the way he wanted leaving you breathless. Rarely did he ever do that; usually, he guided you into what you both wanted to build it until the bubble of tension popped. There was something thrilling about being told though -- something that reminded you of when you were new, three months instead of almost three years in. Something that was like when time was limited and you had to be efficient to learn each other and what would feel good and do good for the other and yourselves, and telling was sometimes all you had.

Harry broke away with a wounded little noise and you blinked, dazed. “M’just….” He grabbed two tacos with one hand and threw them back into the paper bag. “M’moving these.” Tacos, nachos, and burritos all went back in, topped off with the chips, and he shoved them aside with some impatience. You laughed breathily and lifted yourself up onto the counter with his help, but it faded when he stepped between your legs and cupped your cheek and jaw and you caught a glimpse of the blown pupils and flushed cheeks that gave him a wild, primal look before your own eyes shut.

Each and every tender sponging of his lips across your jaw and down your neck made you ache, and it was all you could do to stay upright and not collapse back, limp from how weak you were. His needy, mesmerized groans made your belly tighten, and when he tugged the hem of your shirt you nodded.

Shirt, sweatshirt, bra, and undershirt were the first to go, and the straps had no sooner fallen down your shoulders than you let out a wordless, guttural shout from deep in your chest when Harry latched on and sucked your nipple with greedy enthusiasm, moving with you when you squirmed, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your breast.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes watering and elbow nearly buckling underneath you in your effort to hold yourself up. “Yes, please,” you said when he pulled the strings on your sweats.

“That’s my girl,” he said, releasing with a pop and latching on again. “That’s my girl… gonna make it better for you.” He stood tall again when he pulled by the waistline, and you wriggled until they were at your knees and you could kick them off the rest of the way with your underwear as he dropped his own to his ankles.

With nothing left between you, you shivered, shrinking into him when he stepped closer and drew his hands around your body in a circuit. Legs first, stomach, back, breasts, shoulders, arms, and repeat, each squeeze and dig of his hands and fingers just a little restrained and not as zealous as his groans and heavy breathing made him out to be -- like he was trying to be good, or patient, or….

“It’s ok,” you murmured between kisses. “You don’t have to wait.” They’d done the waiting -- more than enough of it. You just wanted him now.

“Sure?” Harry rasped and you nodded, eyes rolling up when he slipped his fingers between you both and they slipped up and down your folds. “Sure,” he confirmed under his breath. “Open a little more for me, love-- there we are, thank you.”

You folded your arms around his neck and over his back and locked your ankles loosely just under his ass, heart racing in your chest.

“Breathe in--” Harry murmured and you squeezed your eyes shut when he fit his head against your entrance. It slid and you laughed, kissing his jaw when he kissed your brow through his grin. “Deep breath for me.”

Every time. He did that almost every time with you, first asking for a deep breath and then, invariably, pulling a long exhale from you when he thrust into your warm, wet cunt. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered in awe, holding still. You could feel the tremors pulling each fiber in his muscles, and when he throbbed inside you, you bit your lip. “Holy shit, you’ve got me good,” he groaned.

You laughed once. “Yeah.” Yeah, something like that. Wincing, you rolled your hips forward and gasped softly from the stretch before tightening your arms and pressing your face against his hot skin. You nuzzled in between your own slow, lingering kisses, taking deep, grounding breaths. He was soft, and smooth, but firm, and hard, and he smelled amazing. Clean -- all soap and cologne with some detergent that smelled even more from the warmth of his skin.

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “Oh, God, I--” You sucked in a harsh breath, abdomen tightening as you pulsed around him, feeling wetter, and you moved your face higher, nose pressed into the base of his sheared hair as you moaned quietly. “Oh my God, I love you.” Pitchy, bordering on hysteria, but you’d be hard pressed to remember a time you felt it as much as you meant it like you did right then. “I love you, I love-- I-- you feel--” Good. Better than good. No one had ever fit like he had -- too much, but just enough, physically, mentally, emotionally.

“I love….” Harry gulped. “Shit, ok, m’gonna….” He made to pull his shoulders back, but you shook your head.

“No, no, stay,” you begged, wrapping your arms and legs tighter. “Stay, please,” you murmured.

“I can’t-- ok,” he panted. “Lemme….” He gripped your ass and pulled you closer and your back arched as you opened your thighs just a little more. “There we go,” he grunted, hips snapping forward as he finally moved. “That’s… fuck, that’s better now.”

You could hear the effort you could feel between your legs -- each sharp pull of breath between his teeth, each muted grunt between his driving thrusts, and the pants he let out when he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. “M’ok,” he said every time between labored gulps for air. “M’good, I just need to--” and he grit his teeth before he began again, and again, you gasped and whimpered, shrinking closer to him.

You didn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, now or ever. You didn’t want to be this close to anyone else again ever. This was never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to meet you, know you, fall in love with you, nor you with him, but now he had, and you were, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way. You couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t come home to you, for you, and where you weren’t there. Not waiting -- never waiting on a man, any man, but ready for him when he returned and ready to move forward together.

He was yours. He was yours, and you were his, and the mere thought pulled something behind your belly button, making you groan.

“What?” he asked, kissing the side of your head. “What, darling, what?”

“I’m gonna cum,” you whispered and then whimpered, tightening your hold around his neck and in his hair. “Harry--” you choked, shuddering with your deep breaths.

“I know.” He grunted, thrusting with slightly more power. “Fuck! Tight little--”

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Don’t stop, I’m close, I’m so-- I just need--” Faster and faster you rolled your hips against his, crying out against him when he wedged his thumb between you both to catch your clit, a stream of mumbled, “I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum,” confessions hidden in his neck. Deep breaths. Long, slow, and deep, with your toes curling behind him until you were barely breathing in your efforts to concentrate, because you were right there. And then, you did cum, hard, convulsing and sucking in harshly as you trembled your way through whimpers of his name, immediately and thoroughly exhausted.

Both his arms locked around you, then, all but crushing you to his torso in his efforts to hold you up, and he thrust hard, fast, deep, getting the right rhythm and stroke he needed. Barely able to keep your eyes open, your mouth moved soundlessly around the demand -- request -- to cum. Cum, Harry, cum, baby, please. Wordlessly, he sputtered through a sharp exhale, and it was the only indication before you felt the hot, wet release accompanying his groans.

“Fuck,” he choked, one of his hands landing hard on the counter to prop both of you up. You laughed, eyes rolling up, and you held on tightly through his turn to shake.

“Happy New Year,” you said, still feeling a little punch-drunk from your orgasm.

He nodded. “H-Happy--” he gulped. “Happy New Year, darling.” His shoulders slumped. “Reckon this was the problem,” he said. “Should’ve fuckin’ rung the year in right last time, y’know?”

“Right,” you breathed even as you shook your head, not quite caught up with what he was saying.

“M’only sayin’,” he said. “We had sex the one time last Christmas. Should’ve had… a bit more,” he said indeterminately.

“We haven’t had sex since you’ve been home.”

Sighing heavily, he kissed your shoulder. “S’pose we’d better start,” he slurred. “S’not the new year yet.”

#harry x reader #reader insert fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles one shot #harry one shot #christmas #blurred lines #blurred lines: adc #blurred lines: a different christmas #a different christmas #permanentcross #original writing

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capsironunderoos · 3 years

Text

Please, Come Home

DINCEMBER - December 11 - “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Summary: Din takes a job just before Life Day and wakes up to a message from his family.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: A ~lil~ spice, if you really, really squint... other than that just a really angsty Din Djarin, and sad times spent apart from his cyare.

Author’s Note: I’m slowly catching up on my Dincember prompts! Tomorrow is my last day in the classroom before Christmas break, so I’ll be able to really catch up soon. Again, this is pretty short, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Here’s the previous prompt: DINCEMBER - December 9 - “Let It Snow”

And the link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

It’s quiet on the Crest tonight, somber almost.

Din hasn’t had a moment like this to himself for too many rotations to count, so he sits in the pilot’s seat, the Crest on autopilot, arms crossed and helmet-clad head leaned back onto the headrest as he watches the stars pass by.

He’s been by himself for a few weeks now, but he doesn’t find the same peace in it that he used to.

Before you, and the child, he longed for moments spent on his ship, amongst the stars to just… be.

Now, he finds more peace when he’s sitting in his cabin with you and the child, snuggled up on the couch and under blankets as you quietly read aloud.

Over the past few months, Din had started to take less odd jobs. You’d both been saving credits for awhile so that the two of you could take a break, spend some time with Grogu, and see a little bit more of the galaxy.

This was his last big job for awhile, and he’d been tasked to hunt down a prince who had made a run for it during the middle of his own wedding ceremony.

Din had wanted to turn it down at first, because he hadn’t been presented with any leads or a tracking fob, and he knew that the job posed the possibility of running into his family’s Life Day celebrations.

You had encouraged him to take it, though, telling him that as soon as he returned you would have the bags packed and the three of you could embark on your adventure.

Plus, the reward for the safe return of the prince had been very steep, and neither of you could think of a reason to pass that up.

Over the weeks you’d been separated, Din had been receiving and sending holograms to you and the child.

Some of them were silly, as you were often interrupted by Grogu impatiently jumping into the hologram to show his papa a new drawing he had made, or to model a new robe you had bought for him in the small marketplace just below the cabin.

Some of the holograms were short but sweet, consisting of you giving Din a brief recap of your day, or of Din telling you good morning and that he loved you.

Others were reserved for late, dark nights on the Crest, when Din missed you so much that he was forced to work with the videos you sent specifically for his eyes only.

There were also one or two transmissions that he hated to think about.

You had sent one to him late one night as he slept, when he knew you should have been resting as well, crying silently in your shared bedroom. You told him how much you missed him, how hard your day had been, and how all you wanted was to crawl into bed beside him and have him tell you everything would be okay.

When he watched the message the next morning he found himself crying as well, finally acknowledging the fact that being apart for so long was taking its toll on the both of you.

Unfortunately, he was unsure as to how much longer he would need to be away before he could return home, and just as he had suspected, Life Day had arrived in the blink of an eye.

So, he sits now, in the pilot’s seat of the Crest, watching the stars as he awaits your transmission.

He knows there is one coming, because Grogu will beg to show Din the new toys he had opened up, as if you and Din hadn’t been the ones to buy them.

He smiles at the thought, knowing that he is waiting solely because you decided to spoil the child this Life Day, as if he wasn’t already spoiled enough.

It would take at least an hour for him to open all of his presents, if not longer.

Din finds himself laughing at the thought of Grogu becoming more enamored with the wrapping paper than the toy itself, as he had done in the past, and he can see the frustration, and love, written on your face as a result.

At that thought, he feels a soft pang in his chest.

He wants nothing more than to be there with you, sitting on the floor as your back rests against his chest, the both of you smiling at your kid as he has the time of his life.

Din can almost feel the warmth radiating from the fireplace, and he can almost smell the fresh pine decorations and the Hoth chocolate you’ve made.

Before he is granted the opportunity to slip further into his daydream, his console lights up with the familiar reminder that he has received a hologram.

Din wastes no time in sitting up in his seat and clicking the button for the message to play.

Suddenly, you are projected before him, the child in your lap as you both seem to look right at him.

“Hello my love!”

You call out, and he chuckles as Grogu squeals out a greeting as well.

“We have officially opened up most of our presents, haven’t we?”

You ask the child sitting in your lap, and he laughs at the way you make your voice sound funny when you ask him your question.

“Of course we saved some for when you return, Din. I want you to see him when he opens his presents, okay? I want you to have those memories too.”

Your voice wavers as you address him, and Din resituates himself in his seat to keep himself from focusing on the longing in your voice. You clear your throat and he is pulled back into the moment.

“Okay, Grogu, show your papa your favorite gift,” at your words, the child lifts a stuffed animal from under his robe, proudly holding it out to the hologram.

You laugh and so does Din.

Grogu is obviously very proud to be showing his dad his new toy, which just so happens to be in the shape of a Sorgan frog.

“Okay, now go get what I told you about,” you request through your laughter, and Grogu is quick to drop the toy in your lap and scramble down to run out of the frame.

When he disappears you continue to watch him, to make sure he is executing whatever plan the two of you had concocted correctly.

Din takes the opportunity to observe you for a moment.

He notes that your hair has gotten longer, and that your smile still makes his insides weak.

He also notices the way you fold your hands together in your lap to rest atop Grogu’s toy, and he thinks about how he would give anything to be sitting with you, holding your hands and pressing each knuckle to his mouth as you both wait on the kid to return.

He thinks about how you would smile up at him, and how you would plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, just out of sight from Grogu.

“You got it?” You question, and his thoughts return back to the hologram.

Grogu babbles a response, and Din notices that he is pushing a box into the frame.

When he is satisfied that the box is where it needs to be, he turns to you for confirmation. You nod excitedly at him and he scrambles back into your lap, his small eyes and ears just barely visible over the top of the present.

“We have something for you to open up too, so we need you to come home soon.”

Din can’t seem to focus on the present clearly meant for him, as all he can see are the tears that have begun making their way down your face.

“Please come home, Din. We miss you. I miss you. I’m not sure how much longer…”

Your voice trails off when the kid looks up at you as a result of the sudden quiver in your voice.

“Tell papa goodbye, Happy Life Day, and that you love him,” you prompt, and Grogu manages to string together a couple of coos before he scrambles back out of your lap to go play with his new presents.

“Seriously, Din, I miss you. Please come home soon, I cannot stand loving you from afar. And I do, I love you across any expanse in the galaxy, but I want to love you here, in our home. I see how hard you’re working to provide for both me and Grogu, but I want you here to experience that life you make with us.”

You fall quiet for a moment as you ponder your words.

“I love you, Din Djarin, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Happy Life Day.”

With that, you blow a kiss into the hologram and the transmission stops.

Din presses the correct buttons to stop the projection and to archive the transmission before he begins setting up his space to send his own.

As the Crest prepares the proper technology, Din begins to talk to you as if you were there.

“I am coming home soon, cyare. I will not rest until I hold you in my arms once more.”

Here’s the next prompt for Dincember: DINCEMBER - December 14 - Cold

#dincember #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #mando #mando x reader #mando x y/n #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars #sw #baby yoda #grogu #Mandalorian #mandalorian x reader

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

Text

Ghosts Still Have Souls

Pairings: Luke x Reader, mentions of Willex

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none?

Summary: For his whole life Luke Patterson had anxiously awaited the day he’d meet his soulmate, and then he died. 25 years later he and his bandmates are mysteriously resurrected and Luke’s hopes return. Could he find his soulmate in death? After all, Willie says ghosts still have souls.

A/N: it took me all day but here is my submission for Day 2 - AU for @jatp-week JATP appreciation celebration. I’m such a sucker for soulmate aus and I haven’t written any in the JATP universe yet so this was the perfect opportunity! Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in any future works and as always, let me know what you think!

Masterlist

___

Luke Patterson had always loved the idea of soulmates. When he was a little boy his parents would regale him with the story of how they met. They ran into each other on the quad at their university, his mom knocked to the ground and his dad dropping his books. In her flustered state Emily had combined “Hey, watch where you’re going!” with “Are you okay?” and ended up crying out “Hey, watch where you’re okay!” while his dad had cursed “Shitfuck, are you okay?” When Mitch offered his hand to help her up they noticed each others’ tattoos and the rest was history.

It was Luke’s favorite story in the whole world and he grew up daydreaming about the day he’d meet his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to see what words would appear on his skin when he or she said their first words to him. He wondered if he’d feel the tingle that some reported feeling when the mark formed on their skin, or what the handwriting of his soulmate would look like permanently inked onto this skin. No matter what he knew he’d cherish the mark, it would be from his soulmate, after all, his other half, the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

Dying before he could hear the words that would change his life forever kinda threw a wrench in his plans.

The thought of his soulmate out there, having grown up without him, never to meet each other because of his untimely death had plagued him for days after Julie “resurrected” them. Then Alex had met Willie. The skater ghost had died more nearly a decade before they had and yet he and Alex were soulmates, “You dinged my board.” proudly displayed on the blond’s wrist.

The knowledge that soulmates existed even in death had brought hope back into his life and he started spending his free time daydreaming about them again.

He’d been channeling his daydreams into songwriting one afternoon when Julie had walked into the garage with Flynn and another friend. He assumed you hadn’t been informed about the ghosts as neither Flynn nor Julie made any remarks towards the guitarist despite typically doing so. He wished that wasn’t the case as you were quite cute. You were absolutely the type of girl Luke would’ve crushed on hard back when he was alive, soulmates or not.

“Oh, and who is this?” Luke asked, employing his teasing tone as he spoke to the newcomer as you set down your backpack though he knew only Julie could hear him.

He had expected a quiet laugh or at the very least a dramatic eye roll from the girl but when he turned to look at her she was staring at her friend’s wrist. Luke turned to look as well and his stomach immediately sank.

There inked on your wrist in his chicken-scratch handwriting were the words he had just spoken to you.

“Oh my gosh,” Julie gasped aloud, drawing everyone’s attention as she opened her mouth to announce what she had just observed.

Before he even had time to think about it, he was stopping her. “No! Julie don’t!”

She stared at him puzzled for a moment but closed her mouth anyway.

“What?” Her friend asked, looking at her perplexed.

“I just… forgot to tell my dad you guys were coming over,” Julie saved. “I’ll just text him real quick.”

You and Flynn nodded, unfazed by the excuse, and plopped down onto the available seating. Luke sighed, pulling his eyes away from you and poofing out of the garage.

He reappeared at his parent’s house. He had hoped to vent to his mom but she wasn’t home so he plopped down on his old bed. His parents hadn’t done much to the room since his death and as he laid there in silence it almost felt like it was still ’95. That pit that had started to form in his stomach continued to grow as he laid there, his thoughts swirling as his hopes thrashed around him once more.

He’d finally found his soulmate but she was- what had Alex called them?- a lifer. She couldn’t even see him. How were they supposed to meet and fall in love and build a life together when she couldn’t even see him and he couldn’t even touch her? How were they supposed to pass their story on to their future kids when she hadn’t even been able to hear the words that were now permanently etched into her skin? As he thought more about it he realized that he hadn’t received a mark of his own. His heart sank as he ran his thumb over the bare skin of his wrist. He’d stopped Julie before she could tell her he was even there so she’d never had a chance to say her first words to him.

It was worth it, he decided after a while. It was worth never hearing the words, never having the tattoo and knowing for certain that his perfect match was out there. It was worth it if he could spare you from the pain of knowing that your soulmate was there but he was dead and invisible.

___

Luke was almost grateful for the distraction of the Hollywood Ghost Club. The last few weeks had been torture, him constantly trying to avoid being in the same room with you and Julie. She had told you about them being ghosts not long after the appearance of your soulmark and had even invited you to meet the band which you had readily accepted. Luke, however, had run away before you could come that day. It killed him that you had met Alex and Reggie and not him, but he figured it would kill him more to have your first words to him appear on his wrist.

They talked about you sometimes, about how funny and adorable you were. It made his blood boil but he had to restrain himself, what right did he have to be jealous when he refused to even meet you.

Still, the rush to book the Orpheum was a welcome distraction from his internal turmoil. It was even enough to distract him from the fact that no matter what happened at the end of the night, he’d never see you again.

He’d miss you. That much was obvious. He’d miss hiding in the loft when you came over to work on homework with Julie, just out of sight so Julie wouldn’t see him but he could still watch you. He’d learned a lot about you that way, how your smile could light up a room, how gorgeous your laugh was but he could tell you hated it by the way you covered your mouth when you did it, how you fidgeted with the hair ties on your wrist whenever you were thinking (he noticed you always had at least two), and that you were almost always cold. He wished he could give you his flannels, you’d look so cute wrapped up in them and they’d certainly keep you warm.

He was thinking of you as he and the guys gathered around the piano in the studio. Julie had just left to head to the Orpheum with her dad and the mood in the garage had immediately grown somber. Their heads filled with worries of what would come next, what was on the other side? Luke’s only comfort was the thought that maybe if he crossed over you’d get a second chance at a soulmate, one who was alive. You’d never even spoken to him and yet he’d do anything for you.

It was that dedication to you that had pulled him out of the Hollywood Ghost Club and onto the Orpheum stage.

It was that dedication that kept him from running straight to Caleb to save his soul when they didn’t cross over. He’d let his soul be destroyed if it meant your happiness.

He never could’ve anticipated what had happened that night nor the repercussions.

He’d spent the next day journaling, writing down all his thoughts- and there were a lot seeing as he had expected to die yesterday, again. He was alone in the studio, Alex out celebrating with Willie and Reggie was who knows where (probably showing Ray like usual), then you walked in.

He sighed, getting ready to poof up to his hiding spot in the loft before Julie showed up when he was stopped.

“Am I dead?” You asked, staring at him in alarm.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked warily, not understanding the premise of your question.

“Well, you’re dead, and with the exception of Julie, you’re only visible to other dead people and I can see you,” you explained carefully, eyes wide.

Luke nodded at your train of thought before it hit him.

“Wait, you can see me?” He gasped, and you nodded. “You can see me! You talked to me!”

His head snapped down to stare at his wrist, sure enough, “Am I Dead?” was scrawled across his skin in the most beautiful handwriting he’d ever seen. Sure, some might say it was a little messy but to him it was perfect.

Before he could even think about his actions, he was rushing towards you and pulling you into his chest. You stiffened, shocked by the sudden action.

“What’re you-“ started to ask but you were cut off by him violently throwing himself away from you.

“I just touched you,” he gasped, once again stating the obvious. “Why can I touch you? Are you dead?”

“No! At least… I didn’t think I was but now I’m really not sure.” You shook your hands anxiously before reaching for one of your hair ties as you started pacing.

“Sorry for taking so long Y/N, I got caught up with Reggie in the house- what on earth is going on in here?” Julie paused in the doorway as she observed your pacing and Luke’s panicked look.

“Oh thank god, you can see me,” You breathe out before turning to Luke, “Julie can see me, so I must not be dead.”

“What?”

“Y/N and I thought maybe she was dead since she can see me and I could touch her,” Luke explained and you nodded.

“What?!” Julie repeated, more shocked than the last time. “You can see him? And you, you can touch her?”

“Yeah, look!” Luke exclaimed, reaching his arm out to tap your arm but it just went right through you. “Huh, why…?”

“Maybe the first time was a fluke?” You supplied before something caught your eye.

You reached out to grab his arm as it fell back to his side. This time it worked, and you pulled his limb closer to you, turning it over to examine what you had seen.

“Woah, see?” Luke said pointedly to Julie, though you weren’t listening.

“That’s- how? You’re-“ you sputtered as you stared at the mark on his wrist. “Soulmates.” You whispered finally.

“Um, I’m gonna give you guys some time,” Julie said, eyes wide as she walked backward out of the garage.

You didn’t let go of his wrist, your eyes flitting between your words and his eyes.

“That’s why I didn’t hear them,” you muttered, bringing your own wrist next to his.

It had been puzzling you for weeks, how you couldn’t remember hearing the words the day they had appeared on your wrist. It made sense now, you couldn’t hear them because Luke had said them.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, dropping his wrist from your grasp. “I thought maybe if you didn’t know you could find happiness somewhere else. With someone who wasn’t invisible and intangible.”

Your gaze softened as you looked up at him, his face was tilted down, unable to look you in the eye. You sighed, taking a deep breath before reaching your hand up to cup the side of his face. It took a couple of tries but you were finally able to place your hand on his cheek, tilting his face to look up at you.

“Luke,” you said softly, “How could I want anyone else?”

He shook his head at your words, though his hand came up to rest over your own. “How could you know that? This is the first time we’ve ever spoken.”

“Because the universe put us together,” you answered surely, bringing your wrists together again in the space between you. “I have no idea how this is going to work but I know it’ll be worth it because these mean we’re meant for each other.”

“You are better than I could ever imagine,” Luke confessed softly, and you smiled shyly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well you’re stuck with me now,” you joked lightly, before pulling him to the couch. “Now c’mon soulmate, we’ve got some catching up to do.”

#jatpweek #jatp fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #jatp luke #luke patterson fic #willex #willie jatp #alex mercer #reggie peters #julie molina #sunset curve #soulmate au

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ingeniouscollectionthing · 4 years

Text

My Always (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, fluffy smut, really, really, really detailed smut, nice Tom

Request: Would you write something about virgin Tom? Like the reader is a confident girl he had a crush on for a while and she gently guides him through his insecurities? Would be a nice contrast to the dom smut there is about him.

Slowly you were walking back to Hogwarts Castle from your day at Hogsmeade. It was Winter and snowflakes were falling, coating the streets in a blanket of white cotton. You snuggled yourself more into your scarf coloured in the beautiful green of House Slytherin, while looking around the beautfiul winter landscape.

A squeeze of your hand brought you back to reality and you looked at the person holding it.

„Are you cold?“, Tom asked, wrapping his arm now around your waist and drawing you in closer into his side.

„A bit, actually, yeah.“, you replied, looking up at him with a smile, your cheeks and nose coated in a light rosy shade.

“Don’t worry, we’re back in no time. How does some nice hot tea and a good book sound to you? We could snuggle by the fire place”, he said, sending you a beautiful shy smile.

“Sounds lovely”, you whispered, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek, making his cheeks flush into a deeper shade of red.

It’s been a year now since you and Tom started dating and it was the happiest you’ve ever been, really. He was very conservative, as gentlemen of your time should be. He treated you like a princess, always there for you, gifting you beautiful things and sneaking in small kisses here and there. You spent your time together cuddling, mostly reading books and sitting in comfortable silence.

Although you were quite happy with your relationship, you noticed a slight change in the last two weeks. While it was a relationship full of love and happiness, little kisses and cuddles on the couch in the common room, it slowly started turning into something way deeper. Everytime you looked at Tom you noticed his unbelievable handsomeness, more than ever before, and you always got that funny feeling in your neither region, often catching yourself thinking about dirty things.

Feeling your cheeks growing warm, you looked down to the floor, trying to hide your face from Tom, as you slowly walked into the castle, making your way to your common room.

Tom noticed though, as he also noticed the change. He realized that the air around you two went from innocent to more passionate. Soft kisses turned into longer ones, often resulting in a beautiful make out session. He caught himself trailing his eyes from yours down to your lips, and more often than he wanted further down your body, mapping out every curve hidden beneath your clothes.

Right now he had to try and hide the slightly noticeable bulge growing in his pants, while he daydreamed what it would be like if you did more than just cuddling, what it could be like behind closed doors - to feel your warm skin on his, kissing you wherever he wanted, while slowly and gently pounding into your warm, wet puss-.

Stop it Tom, he thought. I’m not allowed to think about her that way.. About the way her beautiful plump lips would look around my- Stop!

It was embarrassing for him, for you were not supposed to have sex before marrying. What would your parents think? They already disliked him pretty much, for you chose him, a halfblooded orphaned boy, as your partner. You were everything he ever dreamed of. Brilliant and cunning in your mind, confident and loving in your heart and a dashing beauty in your looks. He was just him.

While he was quite powerful in his magical abilities, he wasn’t so sure about everything else. While other girls worshipped the ground he walked on, he didn’t see himself worthy of being by your side. After all, he didn’t know if he deserved your love – no one else really loved him, so why you?

“Tommy? Did you hear what I said?”, you brought him back from his thoughts.

“No I’m sorry, Darling, I just zoned out.. What was it you talked about?”, Tom said, looking at you.

“I just asked if you’d like to cuddle in your dorm, instead of in the common room. You know, it would be more private… And your friends are not as nosy as mine.”, you said, as you sent him a brilliant smile. In reality you didn’t worry about cuddling at all, you felt that a certain kind of lust made you act on impulse, you needed him.

“Uhm.. I mean.. Yeah sure.. Why n-not.”, he stuttered and cleared his throat. You laughed a bit at his shy behaviour, it was so unlike of what others saw him as. You loved it.

Tom on the other hand hated it. It seems that all confidence vanished as soon as he looked into your beautiful (e/c) eyes, which shone brightly in the light. Right now he was nervous. You never took cuddling to the bedroom, although it was no different from cuddling on the couch in the common area. Or was it?

Well shit, he thought. It’s just us. In my bed. In my room. In Privacy. Just us. Cuddling…Kissing…Making out…Maybe making love.. Wait what?

Again he was thrown from his thoughts as you stopped in front of the common room entrance. The snake engraved into the door, turned it’s head into your direction, waiting for the password.

“Ego sum princeps * ”, Tom said, and slowly the portal opened. Hand in hand you walked past your fellow Slytherin’s, who followed both of you with curious looks as you made your way to the boys dormitories. To Tom’s and your relief it was in fact empty.

You both settled down on his bed, each with a book in hand while you both snuggled into each other after shedding off your winter clothes. You’ve been there for quite a while now, lying in his arms. You’ve barely read the words written on the pages. Instead your mind wandered around, thinking about what could happen right now.

As if reading your mind Tom looked at you, both of you holding eye contact while slowly leaning in. Your lips met in a slow sensual kiss, which lasted for far longer than you two had anticipated. The book laid forgotten on your lap as your hands slowly but steadily wandered up over Toms shirt clad chest, stroking in a circular motion up to his broad shoulders. Tom shuddered lightly, breaking the kiss to draw a long shaky breath. You looked at him, loosing yourself in his beautiful greenish blue eyes.

To your surprise he showed no signs of shying away, instead he slowly cupped your cheek in his big hand and pulled you towards him. Your lips met again, this time much more primal than ever before. Bent up passion made it’s way to the surface of your very beings and slowly and unsurely Tom licked your lower lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth. You granted it, but instead of fighting for dominance you both explored each other in a calm manner. Slowly his hand wandered down your face, over your arm until it landed on your waist. He squeezed softly and you let out a soft moan. And Tom snapped his hand back suddenly, breaking the kiss.

“I – I’m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to be so indecent”, he stuttered, a blush creeping up his neck. He avoided all eye contact.

You pouted, grabbing his face and making him look at you.

“No don’t be”, you sucked in a sharp breath, continuing in a sensual whisper “I liked it”.

And with that you pulled him back to you, your hands tangling in his raven black locks. Tom’s hand came back on your waist, now squeezing with a bit more confidence. Slowly you both turned, his back was propped up on the headboard of his bed, while you sat in his lap. Your hands explored each other slowly, the kisses became harder, less loving but more lustful, and Tom became more flustered by the second. Your hands traveled back to his neck, now trying to unbutton his white shirt.

“No (Y/N) wait!”, Tom whispered his eyes still closed.

“Are you not alright with this, Tommy? We can stop now”, you said, withdrawing your hands.

“Yes, no, I mean yes I am alright with this, b – but this isn’t right. I mean it feels right, because I love you so much.. But I’m supposed to be a gentleman and – and I’m supposed to be conservative. I just can’t take your virginity without marrying you because – because..”, Tom’ s rambling stopped, he looked at you. Merlin, his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Because what, darling? You can tell me”, you said reassuringly.

“Because what if I’m not the one to marry you?” All his insecurities spilled out of his mouth at once. “I mean I don’t care about m-my virginity, but you – you are such a brilliant, beautiful young witch and I’m soo goddamn scared that I could never be enough for you, that I won’t be the one putting a ring on your finger. And I know it’s bound to happen that you’ll leave someday, because I always end up alone…. I just – I don’t want you to give yourself to me so readily and defile your name, if I’m possibly not your forever.”

You processed all of his words, tears clouding your vision.

“You’re right you won’t be my forever” Tom’s heart broke at your words and he tried to keep it together until-

“You’re so much more than that, Tommy. My forever, my always, my soulmate, my lover, my partner in crime, my best friend. Call it whatever you want, but I’ll always be here right by your side. There will never be someone else as perfect in my eyes as you are. Let the whole world be damned, I want to be yours. Always”

Tom looked at you, stunned, not knowing what to do.

“Tom. Make love to me”

And he lunged forward enveloping you in his arms before kissing you with such a passion, your heart almost leapt out of your chest. Now everything was a blur. Slowly you undressed each other, leaving you completely bare. Tom drew the curtains closed around his four-poster bed, before turning to you again.

“You’re so beautiful”, he said, his hand stroking the side of your hips. You looked into his eyes as you guided his hand up to your chest. Shyly he grabbed one of your breasts, his eyes sparkling as he witnessed the pleasured sigh that left your lips. His confidence grew as his finger slowly circled around your nipple, making it instantly hard. He did the same to the other before he suddenly took one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently on it.

“T-Tom”, you whispered, one of your hands tangled in his hair, as the other started exploring his body.

Slowly you stroked down his chest, over his beautiful prominent abs, until you reached the most intimate body part of his. You’ve never done this before and you had no idea what you were doing as you slowly grabbed his erect cock in your hand, stroking up and down. Tom shuddered, leaving your breasts with a slight popping noise as his eyes rose to meet yours. Both of your faces were flushed, pupils blown. Tom kissed you again, now beginning a little fight about dominance, as his hands mimicked your earlier movements until you felt his fingers around your pussy. Slowly he tested the waters – he started spreading your lower lips, while his thumb started circling your clit.

You jolted as some kind of electricity shot through you, making you grab his cock harder. He groaned into your mouth and suddenly – one of his fingers slowly made his way into your waiting, warm and wet cunt.

“You’re so wet (Y/N)”, Tom whispered in astonishment, pumping his finger slowly.

“Only for you Tom”, you moaned, fastening your movements.

You felt as he inserted a second finger, stretching you so deliciously. You felt so full.

Tom felt as if he was in heaven. The girl of his dreams lying in his arms, squirming in pleasure he gave her. He groaned again as your small hand travelled down his big cock, cupping his balls gently.

Merlin’s beard, he thought. I can’t get enough.

Acting on instinct, you grabbed his hand in a gentle manner, making his fingers leave your pussy. You guided it to your mouth, licking his fingers covered in your juices clean. You maintained eye contact and Tom took in a deep breath. Then you grabbed onto his shoulders and lifted yourself up, guiding his erect, hard and big cock in between your folds. Slowly it slipped inside your warm and waiting walls. It hurt and you grabbed harder onto Toms shoulders.

“Shhh.. It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you”, Tom whispered, panting hard, while grabbing your hips and helping you down on his shaft. You both groaned, as he was settled deeply inside you. Slowly you started moving, the pleasure replacing the pain. You both panted loudly, not caring if Tom’s dormmates would burst into the room right now.

Tom wrapped his arms around you, pulling him towards you. He kissed you hard, his hands now exploring your whole body, before you guided them to each of your ass cheeks. You looked at him, saying in a breathless voice,

“Don’t be shy my love. I’m all yours”

And Tom squeezed hard, surely leaving behind some red marks.

Your movements picked up speed, your moans getting louder by the second, as he hit every right spot inside you.

A sudden rush of confidence led Tom to flip you both over, making you lie down on your back and wrap your legs around his waist. You continued to make out, while Tom started picking up ab bit speed, as his thrusts became rougher. His balls slapped against your flesh, the smell of sex wafting around the room, while your moans spurred each other on.

“Tommy – ohh yes! Fuck – right there!” You moaned, scratching down his back.

“You feel so good, (Y/N)! So good! I don’t think I can last any longer!”, Tom groaned kissing up and down your neck.

“Rub my clit, Tom. Please! Make me cum Tommy!”, you whimpered. His hand wandered down to your tight pussy, slowly rubbing circles on your little bundle of nerves.

“Is that alright? Do you like that? Do you like how I rub your clit?”, Tom asked, not realizing how dirty he actually sounded, fully intended on pleasing you.

“Oh Tommy! Yes! Yes! I’m – I’m coming!”, you moaned loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair, moaning his name over and over again, as a beautiful feeling washed over you, making you squeeze your pussy around Tom’s big cock.

“(Y) – (Y/N)! Fuucck!” His hips stuttered as his cum shot into your waiting womb, marking you as his.

Gently he laid himself down on top of you, careful not to crush you. Both of you panted as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasms.

After a while Tom pulled out of your still pulsing pussy, watching as it tried to keep in every drop of his seed.

He looked up at you, as you cupped his cheek in your hand and he leant up to kiss you slowly, before he rolled to his side of the bed, gathering you in his arms. You both looked at eachother, content smiles plastered on your faces.

Tom put a strand of hair behind your ear, while whispering in a soft voice,

“I love you”

“I love you more”, you said, closing your eyes.

“(Y/N)?” Tom said, pulling you even more towards him.

“Yes?”

The door to Tom’s room opened and his dormmates gathered inside, disturbing the comfortable aura in your little nest. Lucky for you, the curtains kept you in your loving Little bubble.

“Will you marry me?”

Outside, the boy’s bickering fell into silence, listening carefully to hear your answer.

(*I am a leader - Password)

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #voldemort #voldemort x reader #young voldemort x reader #lord voldemord #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle lemon #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #smut #fluff

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

Three’s company

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x female!Reader

Word count: God knows like 4000

Warning: NSFW 18+ lots of smut, read at your own risk. Really bad smut writing.

Prompt 14, 30: “If this is your attempt at pushing me away, it won’t work” “Come on now dear, Let’s not torture her any longer” - Poly

A/N: For Vee, I love you and I hope you enjoy! I’ve scrapped this about six times and I still have a love/hate relationship with it. Also feel honoured because this is my first smut fic ever never mind Poly, please be gentle with me lmao. 😂

Thank you @lesbian-deadpool for reading over this and giving me your seal of approval, you the best sister in law ever. What would my gal do without you @missmonsters2 lol 😂x

Tags: @imnotasuperhero @j-does-life @the-enamorando-deity

I do not own these gifs!🖤

Prompts 14, 30

Have you ever been in love?

Have you ever been in love with two people at once? Or better yet, in love with two people who are also in an established relationship.

Because I have.

I continue to you scribble my thoughts onto the blank page of my diary needing to express my thoughts and feelings somewhere, like a dirty little secret.

A loud knock at my bedroom door interrupts my train of thought as I quickly close my secrets away and scramble to hide it in my desk draw. I turn around to see blonde hair and blue eyes peeking through the gap of the door.

"Hey Y/N just letting you know movie night is starting in half an hour and I don't want another excuse as to why you can't come. You've been locked up in your room almost the entire week. We're worried." Steve asks warmly, ever the mother hen of the group.

"I'm fine Steve I've just been busy with mission reports and making sure the new shield recruits are settling in. You know how daunting it can be, especially when Sam, Clint and Bucky think it's funny to mess with them on their first week. I promise I'll come down" I reassure him, and he almost believes me.

"Okay I'll bite but just know I'm here if you wanna talk about it. I haven't mentioned it to them that I saw you sneaking out of their room last week" he says sympathetically.

That's when this whole thing started. Once I became a regular member of the Avengers initiative, it meant spending a lot of time with the team. Nat and Wanda had welcomed me with open arms being the only two regular females of the group. It started off with small subtle brushes of their fingers against my hand when they walked pass or passing things to each other in the kitchen, their fingertips just lingering a little longer. Of course, every time this would happen I would be a blundering mess but they seemed unfazed by the waves of electricity between us every time, until those subtle hints turned a little more bolder.

Three weeks ago

Walking through the private area of the compound, I rub my tried eyes and roll my shoulders trying to ease the tension in my muscles. I shuffle towards the living room area hoping to catch up on some reading needing some peace. The open windows and the dark grey Italia corner sofa that faces it gives a lovely view of the trees and forest life that surrounds the hidden compound. In my dazed, tired state I failed to notice the fiery red head sitting lazily on the sofa a Russian novel in hand with a devilish smirk.

"Hey Y/N how was training the newbies?"

I gasp lightly and quickly turn around to face her, my hand hovering over my chest as I clutch my favourite book in the other.

"Jeez Nat, you could warn a woman!"

She laughs quietly.

"You're an avenger Myshka, your eyes should always be open to any possible thing" the words slow and clear, her voice deep laced with flirtation.

I gulp slightly, blushing at the Russian term that I’m always referred to as but never know what it means. I drop my gaze no longer able to look into those green eyes that hold such heat.

"Yeah well I've just spent the last five hours training dumbass's who can't tell the difference between a Fixation Bowie and a SoG Seal Knife, so give me a break" I grumbled, feeling slightly irritated suddenly.

Maybe because she keeps flirting with you and she has a girlfriend.

Nat frowns lightly before sitting up her legs tucked underneath her making available space on the sofa next to her, she pats the space indicating for me to sit with her. I pause for a minute debating whether that would be safe for me to do so, I scan her face and land my eyes onto her perfect full lips stained with red lipstick.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I could always read in my room.

But she looks so good sitting there and she smells divine.

The latter thought wins as I tentatively make my way over to her and take a seat, leaving a good gap between us. Nat smiles softly before turning back to her book, making me relax a little.

After a few minutes of us both reading in silence, I feel Nat shift slightly trying to get comfortable. Unfolding her legs from under her she slowly stretches them out over my lap and sighs content with her new position. I tense and look over to her waiting for her to say something, but her head is buried back into her book.

It's okay, you guys are friends. This is what friends do.

Nat shuffles around again before huffing, clearly not comfortable. I can feel her gaze on me from the corner of my eye.

"Myshka, can I lean against you? The corner of this sofa is killing my back and you seem far too comfy" she whines lightly, pouting those cherry red lips. My eyes instantly fall to them again before quickly looking back to her eyes, a glint of knowing lingers slightly in those pretty greens.

She caught you.

"Oh..um yeah sure Natasha" she moves like lightening and curls up into my side, her head leaning against my shoulder, legs draped over me. My eyes widen in fear at the sudden closeness between us and the creaking sound of the floorboards by the doorway announcing another presence.

"Well don't my two favourite girls look comfortable hmm? Mind if I join?" I continue to tense up, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them trying to gauge their reaction, but Nat seems indifferent as she continues to stay close to me still emerged in her book. Wanda makes her way around the room, I'm shocked to see that instead of sitting next to Natasha she stands closely behind us, her hands rest on either side of my shoulders, her thumbs move back and forth along my exposed shoulders as she leans in and whispers "you seem tense fényem (my light), you need to relax. Is Steve giving you a hard time with the new recruits? I'll have a word" her breath softly brushing against my sensitive skin making me shiver.

I shake my head unable to find the words to speak. Wanda hums quietly before releasing her hold on me and moving towards Natasha before letting her lips meet hers in a heated kiss. I try to avert my eyes but it's too late, Nat looks straight at me and winks subtly before going back to her book as Wanda walks away asking if we would like a drink. I shake my head in decline before making up an excuse and sprinting out of there.

Whatever game their playing, I don't want any part of it...

Or maybe I do.

End of flashback

A week later the flirting and teasing had gotten more bolder as the days passed. I found myself being left alone with one of them or both way too often for it to be a convenience. At the end of that week, it was team bonding night in the games room, drinks were poured and before I had time to blink, I could feel soft warm skin against my lips while two pairs of red lips and hands trail along my naked back and shoulders, limbs tangled up in silk sheets.

I woke up in a haze just as the sun met the earth in the distant horizon and vanished out of their room. Leaving an empty gap between them, making my heart shatter. The knocking on my door and the empty threats to come into my room if I didn't speak to them became less and less as the week went on, as if giving up on any attempts to see me.

I'm shaken out of my thoughts by two large gentle hands cupping my shoulders; Steve stares at me with concern.

"Come on let's just go down and get the food ready for the movie, okay? You can sit with me if you like, you don't have to talk to them" I nod my head in agreement to his proposition.

"Is there any specific snacks you would like?"

I smirk at that slightly before replying:

"Do we have the big bag of Doritos, Dorito?" Steve rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance.

"Can you and Tony stop it with the Dorito thing? it was one commercial and the money went to a good cause" he moans grumpily before leaving the room and heading back towards the kitchen for the movie night snacks.

I chuckle softly before gathering my thoughts.

Maybe I could make another excuse up for not going.

Knowing I don’t stand a chance against a stubborn Super Soldier I make my way out off my safe space and into the unknown.

Upon arriving in the dimly lit room I scan for a vacant double seat to settle into for the evening, my eyes fall upon the very two people who have been taken over my thoughts and the pages in my diary for last two months; Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda sits comfortably on Natasha's lap her head tilted upward as Nat whispers softly to her while brushing her thumb over Wanda's bare calf making her giggle quietly.

My thoughts overtake me as I think about her thumb brushing against my bare thigh while Wanda whispers sweet nothings into my ear, just like that night...

As if sensing my presence, they both turn and face me, a soft smile playing on both of their lips.

"Hey kotenok, where have you been all week? We've missed you" Nat speaks quietly laced with worry. Wanda's furrowed brow also indicating her agreement.

I blush slightly and clear my dry throat suddenly aware of my daydreaming.

"Sorry...I.. um I had a few mission reports that needed finishing and didn't realise the time. I could do without Steve chewing my ass about neglecting my responsibilities outside of missions" I say impersonating my best Steve Rogers voice, which causing Nat to smirk slightly; amusement in her eyes while Wanda giggles her eyes looking over my shoulder.

"You know Y/N if you actually did do the reports on time, I wouldn't have to keep lecturing you" a deep authority voice says behind me while dangling a bag of Doritos in front of my face. I roll my eyes in good nature before grabbing the offered snack and moving to sit in the empty loveseat by the two women.

"You know there is space on this love machi- I mean love-seat Y/N, all you gotta do is ask" Sam teases a few rows down and winking cheekily, a pillow hits him around the back of the head by Bucky who's sat beside him.

"Please she's way out of your league, fake bird" they both continue to bicker back and forth as I settle onto my own love-seat, wrapping the blanket around me and sighing at the warm feeling surrounding me as I sink into it further.

"Sam's right though Y/N, you don't have to sit by yourself. Come sit with me and Nat there's plenty of room here" Wanda whispers leaning over towards me so no one else can hear, her eyes filled with attentiveness. I gulp and avert my eyes away from her emerald gaze as I pull slightly at the blanket as if trying to form a protective barrier around myself, away from her gaze and the heat behind them.

"Oh um I'm okay I'll stay here. Thank you though" I stutter over my words while trying to build up enough courage to look into her eyes, to show her I'm not affected by the idea of being so close to them both.

"Oh okay.. well if you do get a bit lonely over here, just know the offer is there Myshka" her eyes filled with slight disappointment but doesn't push the offer further and settles back into Natasha. I feel Nat's heated gaze upon me as I try and stay focused on the starting credits of Clint's choice of film.

Halfway through the movie, I can feel my eyelids growing heavy and my vision blurring. Unable to fight the dreamworld any longer I slowly let myself fall into a deep slumber.

"She's so cute when she sleeps, so peaceful"

"Can you imagine how good she would be for us Wanda, how amazing all three of us could be?"

"Nat! This isn't the time; you know the last time we did that with her she pushed us away. Why won't she just talk to us? If she had just stuck around long enou-"

The voices in the room suddenly stop as I feel myself awakening from my deep slumber, I tense slightly suddenly aware that I'm not alone in the room and not in the comfort of the cinema loveseat but in a soft bed that smells just like...

"Hey sleepyhead, look who's finally decided to join the land of the living" Nat murmurs while brushing a stray piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear, I shiver slightly at her touch before scurrying into an upright position, aware that I'm currently not in my own bedroom but in theirs.

"How long was I sleeping for?"

"Only about two hours, we thought it would be best to bring you in here since we need to talk"

I gulp slightly at that.

"Um.. to talk? Could we do this another time? I'm pretty beat from all that writing and working with the recruits, I just want my bed" I try to reason with them but they both fix me with a "don't even try it" look before sitting on either side of me. Wanda grabs hold of my hand and turns my palm upward, she traces her finger around my palm and slowly lifts her eyes to look at me.

"Please Y/N, talk to us. We've been trying to see you all week, but you seem to be avoiding us and Nat doesn't take to well to being ignored" she smirks mischievously at mentioning her girlfriend, who seems to be remaining quiet throughout the exchange.

I look over towards Nat only now taking in how quiet she's been throughout this whole exchange even in the cinema room she spoke less to me than ever before. Her eyes drop down, looking at the silk sheet as her hand brushes softly against along it, her head tilted slightly as if reminiscing.

"We may have gone about it the wrong way myshka, but we care about you.. a lot actually and more than just friends. We can't stop thinking about you but avoiding us after leaving like that... if this is your attempt at pushing us away, it won't work. We...I felt it that night, the way you clung to me as I brought you close to the edge, the softness in your eyes when Wanda held you close afterwards... tell me you don't feel the same way"

I sit gaping at her, lost for words. I feel Wanda's hand squeeze mine gently, comforting me and encouraging me to respond. She leans forward and brushing my hair behind me ear before cupping my face with her hand, her thumb brushing away at the absent small tear on my cheek.

"Shhh lyubov moya, we know, or did you forget that I can read minds" she teases gently trying to ease the tension. She brings her lips to the side of my head and lets them brush gently against my temple before trailing them down to my cheek, leaving small trails of soft kisses. Her lips reach near my mouth before pulling away slightly:

"If you don't want this Y/N we completely understand, just say the words and we'll leave you alone and let you move on-" before she could finish, I lean forward and capture her lips with mine.

"I want this, I've wanted this for a while" before continuing to peck her lips repeatedly. I see Nat from the corner of my eye stand quietly before moving to sit in the armchair opposite the bed watching intently as Wanda pushes me gently so I'm lying flat on my back.

She continues to straddle my waist and slowly unbuttoned my shirt before pulling it apart exposing my bare chest, the cool air hitting my breast making them harden instantly. Wanda hums in delight at the sight, her eyes darkening with a glint of red spiralling underneath her natural colour. She leans her head down towards my neck letting her nose brush lightly down the valley on my breasts barely touching my skin, her eyes lock with mine before looking over her shoulder at Nat who is now undressed from the waist down with the smallest pair of white panties on that barely cover her assets; a dark wet spot appearing indicating to her arousal, as she keeps her legs spread for us to see her hand trails slowly south towards her heat.

"Mmm someone seems to be enjoying our performance, little one. Shall we give her more?" Her hands grip my shorts before pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor before leaving wet kisses from my ankle to inner thigh, tongue swirling and nibbling softly right near my core. I shiver and arch my back basking in the overwhelming feeling of her. She continues to tease me, brushing her nose against my panties before pulling away. I hear the floorboards creak quietly making Nat's movements known, I watch her as she stalks over towards us like a predator after its prey. She squats down so she's eye level with me her fingers grip my chin, making me turn my head to the side: facing her.

"Such a pretty little thing, it would be a shame to put those luscious lips to waste, don't you agree Wanda?" She mocks, her question for the woman between my legs but her eyes stay locked with mine, darker with a glint of mischief.

She moves forward and presses her lips to mine, trailing her tongue along my bottom lip making me gasp. Her tongue battles with my own before I take a hold of her bottom lip between my teeth and tug at it making her moan deep. I shiver slightly and turn my eyes downward towards Wanda who now has my panties in between her teeth as she drags them down slowly almost agonisingly slow her eyes locking with mine. Nat's attention now on my neck sucking gently.

"Oh god"

As soon as she's disposed of my panties her mouth is on me instantly, lapping her tongue over and over again, swirling around my folds before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking hard, making me moan out load.

"She's so wet for us Nat, god I almost forgot how good she tasted"

Nat chuckles softly before removing her panties giving me a great view of her pussy. I lick my lips in anticipation, excited at the thought of having Nat above me with my tongue inside of her. She smirks knowingly before slowly removing her tank top, showing her full breasts and climbing expertly above me so she's facing Wanda her pussy directly in view, dripping wet. I tilt my chin up trying to take a taste, but she hovers higher up away from me making me whine. I'm stopped from reaching any further by Wanda's hand grasping my breast her fingers twisting my nipple slightly as her tongue enters me, making me cry out.

My cries are quickly stop by Nat, who lowers herself enough to let me taste her. I moan at how wet she is...how wet she is for us. The room is filled with low moans and desperate cries of passion as I continue to swirl my tongue around her entrance, Wanda brings her thumb up to my clit and rubs hard circles around the sensitive area making me pull away from Nat slightly, hips bucking wanting more of her.

"Please Wanda, I need you inside me" I say desperately. She chuckles quietly before leaving my heated area and making her way up to my chest taking a nipple into her mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

“Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer” Nat teases from above me her voice breathless.

"I got something much more pleasurable" she smiles wickedly, I watch in astonishment as her eyes turn a blood red but before I could question, I feel a strong wave of pleasure hit my core, Nat and I moaning out in unison.

"Y/N if you don't put that fucking tongue back where it belongs, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week" Nat grumbles through her moans caused by Wanda's magic. I quickly tilt my chin up and plunge my tongue deep into her entrance. My hand desperately reaching for Wanda's pulling her closer. The waves of sensation hitting one after the other, faint sparks of red surrounds us. I feel Nat tense above me, bringing my hand up I gently rub at her clit, bringing her close to orgasm. She cries out before relaxing above me; I lap her up, taking every last drop of her orgasm.

"Wanda you still have too many clothes on" I whine trying to blindly remove her clothes. I feel Nat move from above me and towards Wanda while she continues to tease up and down my body.

"Y/N is right malen'kaya ved'ma (little witch), you are wearing far too many clothes" she says before gliding Wanda's long skirt and panties over her ass and dropping them in a heap on the floor, while she continues to kneel between my legs. I feel Wanda's hot breath hit my core as she gasps at the cool air hitting her warm skin. Her eyes glow a brighter red as Nat traces her finger up and down her folds before finding her entrance and quickening her pace, she leans her body over Wanda, so her lips are close to her ear as they both stare at me.

"Hasn't she been good for us Wanda? I think she deserves an award" Nat whispers voice laced with lust slightly breathless.

That familiar wave of electricity hits through my body to my core making me gasp as Wanda projects her pleasure to me. Being able to be in sync with her body and its reactions to pleasure, mixed with my own need for release, throws me over the edge as I feel the knot in my core relax making me slump against the pillow, Wanda not far behind. She collapses gently on top of me, her head resting against my chest listening to my rapid heartbeat start to slow. Nat moves around the side of the bed grabbing a throw over from the back of the armchair and covering us all up before curling into my side, kissing the top of Wanda's head and my cheek.

"Does this mean you'll consider being with us Y/N, not just the sex but everything else that comes with it" Nat asks almost tentatively, scared of what I might say.

"You guys had me the moment I laid eyes on you"

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female!reader #natasha romanoff x wanda #natasha x wanda x reader #poly #first smut #please be kind #prompt request #imnotasuperhero #lay loves vee #smut fic #marvel

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Note

sirius/hestia: sirius being romantic and love's fool

hello anon thank you so much i love writing about them

I took a while, but then I thought a lot about this scene, and I loved how this fanfic turned out, so I hope you like it.

*It's 1995, just before Jily and Harry need to go to Grimmauld Place

They had fought over something stupid, honestly, Hestia knew it was something too silly for the two of them to take so seriously.

But of course it hadn't been stupid at the time, and the two of them took fights very seriously, so when they had to go to that stupid Aurors dinner, they weren't trying very hard to show that they didn't want to be there and that they had had a fight a few minutes ago.

Hestia couldn't even remember who started the fight, but she was irritated with work and Sirius kept being pessimistic about this stupid dinner, listing everything that could go wrong, and she freaked out because she didn't need to think about someone being rude with them, because she had already spent eight hours listening to people being rude to her, and being mean to her because they thought they knew better. She needed to have some faith that for at least two hours she was going to be able to smile and have fun, even the slightest bit.

She had gone into hiding in the bathroom when one of the Aurors came to talk to Sirius, she didn't have the patience to deal with Mr. Santiago, however well intentioned he was, Hestia didn't want anyone asking her if she was getting pregnant in the next few years, or she would wait to get older.

Sirius would handle it better than she did, she knew that. Santiago was his boss after all.

Sitting on the toilet, she sighed, glad to finally be silent.

She wanted to quit, wanted to tell Sirius that it had been a mistake that they had moved from their quiet, cozy house to a more central apartment, wanted to call her dad and yell at him for being a jerk last week when he saw her and Sirius at the market and ignored him, she wanted to tell Lily that it wasn't fair that she was so far away and she wasn't allowed to see her best friend because a lunatic nearly killed her son even though she knew it wasn't her or Potter's or Harry's fault.

Hestia buried her face in her hands, wanting to disappear.

When the bathroom door opened she was ready for her cabin door to open too, it was probably Sirius wanting to see if she was alright, and Hestia felt ready to be able to lie and say yes, even if he wouldn't believe it.

He knew her too well.

But instead, she heard female voices, cheerful and full of life, probably not expecting anyone else there; ''He's beautiful.''

''Yes, so, so beautiful.'' The other sighed passionately, which made Hestia chuckle softly, remembering when it was she, Lily and Marlene doing that, running to the bathroom of the muggle ice cream shop that was on the corner of her house, only to daydream about Elliot, the boy who works there. Older, charming, helpful, and very polite.

Hestia still remembered how they all screamed and jumped when Marlene kissed him.

"I'd give anything to kiss him," Girl A said, and the noise of things being placed on the marble sink made her believe they were both touching up their makeup or something. She had done so much with Lily and Marlene to forget what it felt like to just worry about looking pretty.

There was no war, people dying, hidden friends, nothing, it was just them putting on lipstick and making sure they were all perfect to try and get someone to kiss in some dark corner of Hogwarts by the end of the night.

Hestia remembered when Sirius saw her doing this. The two of them on James's seventeenth birthday, after making out warmly in his bedroom, Sirius showed her the bathroom and watched her touch up her makeup. It was so silly and natural when she thought about it, because he still does it, he still watches Hestia like it's for the first time.

''You know what I wanted? Kiss every tattoo of his.” Girl B said, and Hestia almost laughed when she heard her sigh loudly, imagining she was fanning herself. "So sexy."

‘’He's usually already a hottie, but when does he show off his tattoos? Urg, I feel like I'm going to die.” Girl A moaned irritably. "I hate that he's married."

Uh, married men, she had been through that with girls too, not that Hestia liked Johann, but she couldn't help saying he was hot. Lily was the one who thought he was most beautiful, she melted when he got close to her. It was funny, she should send her a letter talking about it.

''These days I saw him training, they were the best ten minutes of my life. '' Hestia chuckled softly, thinking of the times she had gone to the gym only to see Sirius sweating and exercising, every now and then he would lift his shirt to dry his face and make her feel on the clouds. It was her weakness.

"Lucky his wife who sees him naked every day."

"He bought her flowers yesterday, I think it was their birthday." Woman B said.

"He always buys it, or flowers, or something she likes to eat." They were silent, probably breaking up. "I heard one of the Aurors who works with him flirted with him."

‘’Yes, Felicity. She asked if he didn't want to go along with her to the convention in France… I mean, I understand, he's a hot guy, but he's married, hold your pants woman!’’

''Do you know what he said?'' Girl A looked curious, and Hestia was too, because Sirius was going to this convention in France and he didn't say anything to her about it, and he usually told her about Auror gossip.

‘’No, but she didn't look happy when she left his office. But Juan told me that Ester told him that he told her not to let her into his office anymore, and that he looked kind of furious. Not that Felicity was happy, of course, I think she expected him to agree to go out with her.”

“Ah, he would never do that, he's clearly in love with his wife.” Girl A laughed. ''Once, during one of our trainings, he told me that when they were at Hogwarts, he only started paying attention in Muggle Studies classes because of her, and that his favorite class was DADA because they sat near one of the another.'' Hestia frowned, thinking that this could only be a bizarre coincidence.

"Yes, I've seen them talking, and seriously, I hope that one day someone will look at me the way Mr. Black looks at her." They sighed, and Hestia became more attentive to their conversation. ''He has a picture of the two of them in his drawer, I once went there to get a paper for a meeting he asked for and I saw it, they are in a mountain of snow, and she is without her glove showing her ring.'' Sirius still kept this photo? It had been so long now, they were twenty-two and he had asked her to marry him.

“So cute.” The noise of makeup being put away resounded through the silent bathroom, and Hestia fingered the ring that had a lovely diamond set in it. Their names were still delicately engraved on the inside of the ring.

‘’Do you think that's why Felicity won't travel to the convention? Because did she flirt with him?” B asked.

''Probably. Not that I think he would cheat on her or anything, but he probably wants to avoid drama at all costs, you know how he hates it.” Sirius hates drama? Hestia didn't really agree with this, but probably because at work he was much more serious and reserved than at home, because she still remembered him saying that he would die after getting a fever and vomiting from eating bad food.

"Yes." The two continued talking, but now the voices faded as they exited the bathroom, soon leaving her alone in the bathroom again.

Hestia knew Sirius was a hot guy, she remembered how she had almost drooled every time she was admiring him in the common room, sitting sprawled on the couch as if he didn't realize that the more he tried not to draw attention, the more people looked at him, his chin resting on his hand as he watched Peter and Remus play chess.

He was handsome even when he didn't want to be.

Like the first time they slept together, and when she woke up she saw him sleeping. With his face scrunched up and his hair pinned up, so fluffy and helpless it was hard for her to decide to wake him up - but she was getting really hungry and she couldn't remember where her clothes were.

But she didn't know anyone was flirting with him. With her man.

And she didn't want to think like that, because she was an idiot, but it was the thing that was going through her head at that moment. Imagining some woman, much prettier than she, flirting with Sirius. Touching his hair, his face, his tattoos.

Hestia loved kissing his tattoos, all of them, and she liked to remember that he had made one just for her. But it disturbed her peace to think of someone else doing it.

And why hadn't he told her about Felicity? Hestia had met her once before, a nice and kind woman with short black hair and a body to envy.

"Hey, where were you, I was-" Hestia wouldn't let him finish, she'd come out of the bathroom on a mission and their stupid fight wasn't going to get in the way. Ignoring his coworkers and what Mr. Santiago was saying, she cupped Sirius' face as she had been doing since she was seventeen and ran away from home at night on winter break to meet him, and kissed him.

Hestia still felt those butterflies in her stomach when she did that, like she felt when he kissed her near the Potters' house in the rain, or when he took her for a walk in Muggle London, even though none of them knew where to go. She still remembered how she had jumped for joy in Lily's room, telling her and Marlene how he had made her jump over a gate so they could enter an old amusement park, the two of them going to sit on the old Ferris wheel, sharing an ice cream he had bought.

"Wow, okay." Sirius blinked as she pulled away, her hands still on his face. ''Hm, this is good... Where have you been?’’ He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her farther forward as she smiled. "Is this your way of calling for a truce in the fight?"

"Fuck the fight." She stared at him, feeling her chest burn. “Coming with me to get a drink?” She looked away quickly, just to check that the other guys had left them alone. It looked like Santiago had managed to drag everyone over to the cold cuts table, which was a good thing, because she didn't want his co-work to think Hestia was dragging her husband aside to have mad sex with him.

As much as they had already done it.

And as much as she was a little mad at this talk of someone flirting with him, Hestia wasn't making a big scene in public. Never.

"Of course." Sirius still looked a little stunned, but he followed her wherever she pulled. Hestia could see that there were indeed some people giving Sirius a second check, only to look at her afterwards as if wondering what he had seen in her.

She didn't take away their reason, she had already asked that same question to him a few times during her crises.

"You know you don't have to lie to me, don't you?" She asked as they reached the farthest part of the room, no one seemed to notice the two of them there.

"I know… Did something happen?" Sirius put his hands back on her hips, a smirk on his face. '’I thought getting a drink was code for getting laid, or for going home to get laid until we lost our wits, but I think I got it wrong?'’

“Don't be an idiot, I'm on my period.” She rolled her eyes when she heard him chuckle.

"And I don't care." He shrugged. "So what's this about me not lying?"

"Felicity flirted with you?" To his credit, Sirius looked confused for a few seconds before letting out a oh. ''Is that a yes?''

"Doll, don't mind that, it was the most shameful thing I've ever been through, and there's no need for you to worry." He grimaced at the memory. ‘’I didn't tell you before because it doesn't matter, I didn't even remember it. Who told you?''

"I heard it in the bathroom… It seems like there are a lot of people who think you're hot," Hestia said, trying not to be affected by the closeness Sirius was putting between them, his mischievous smile growing.

‘’Jealous babe? I thought we were past that stage.” His smug smile was the worst, his gray eyes gleaming as if he were a beast and Hestia his next prey. "I don't really care what other people think, you know that."

"I know," Sirius kissed her, gentle and calm as he did whenever he was teasing her. "And I'm not jealous, I was just curious why you kept it from me… Afraid I'd do something, Black?"

"Nah, I can handle you and calm your beast."

“Don't be cocky.” She lifted her chin to let him kiss her neck, smiling at the feel of his lips there.

"I didn't tell you because it was Valentine's Day and I wasn't going to spoil our dinner for something as dumb as that." He looked at her, hands firm on her hips. ‘’It's idiot, you know I only have eyes for you. But if you must know, I hated every second from the time she walked into my office, until she left."

"She's not that good then?" Hestia bit her lip as he kissed the sensitive flesh near her collarbone.

"She's not you, Hestia." Sirius raised his head, as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Urg, you're so cheesy.” It wasn't a real complaint, but she liked the way he smiled when she said it. "It gave me a toothache." They chuckled, Sirius returning his hands to her hips, creating a space between them. Hestia knew what he was going to ask even before he opened his mouth.

''What happened today? You don't just look like this.” Hestia grimaced, not wanting to talk about it now that they were all right again, but she knew if she didn't, he would make her talk sooner or later. It turned out that the two of them always needed a little push to talk about their feelings, and the other almost never liked the silence that came between them when that happened.

"It was a shitty day at work, and… I don't want to work there anymore." She accepted his embrace, laying her head on top of his heart, feeling Sirius kiss the top of her head. "I miss Lily, I don't like living in that apartment and…the drama with my dad last week?" She looked up at him, wanting not to cry but not able to keep the tears from stinging in her eyes. ‘’I thought it was over, it's been almost twenty years, why does he continue with it? I'm so tired… And today listening to those girls in the bathroom, I don't know, I know you won't cheat on me, that's not it, but… what are you still doing here?’’

''Like this? I'm here because I love you, where else would I go?’’

"To the arms of a prettier woman with a less troubled family?" She ventured, dropping her face back into his chest because she felt ashamed for saying that, and for feeling that. She didn't like to look him in the eye when one of her crises started, Hestia was always silly afraid that she would see in Sirius that disgusted and slightly annoyed expression she had seen in her father's eyes when that happened.

“I don't think there's a woman prettier than you, and about your family, it's not like mine is a bed of roses, is it?” He hugged her tighter, like he did when she was sad. Hestia knew Sirius would never look at her with that accusatory look that she was going crazy. "You know what I thought when Felicity walked into my office and started telling me about how Paris was a romantic city and all?"

''What?''

"That we never went there, which is ridiculous because it should have been the first place for us to go together." He chuckled softly. ‘’Paris is indeed a very romantic city.’’

"Yes, you're right." She sniffled, tears stinging in her eyes again.

‘’I don't care if someone is flirting with me, or I don't know if there are women talking about me in the bathroom. Sure, it's really good for my ego, you know,” Hestia chuckled, rolling her eyes. "But none of them are you, and I'm not saying this because I want to convince you to have shower sex later, because you know we're going to-"

''Disgusting.''

‘’-You love it. But it's because I love you Jones, and for you I can put up with your father pretending I don't exist for hours if it'll make you happy, and, I can find a way to get you inside Lily's house without Dumbledore knowing and staying talking to us about everything we already know. She needs you too, James told me she's feeling pretty lonely... And I don't like that apartment either, and Joe is looking to sell his house, so we can go visit if you want.'' Sirius was quiet, his chin resting on top of her head, his arms holding her securely in his embrace.

"I hate feeling like this," Hestia grumbled.

''If it's any comfort to you, last week I thought I'd cut my hair because you told me about that guy from your job.'' He admitted, and when Hestia lifted her face to look at him, Sirius' cheeks were flushed. "Don't look at me like that, it's been a tense week."

"Noooo, you're perfect like that." She brought her hands up to his hair, smiling at the familiar feel of his silky strands. "It's the only reason I married you, so if you don't want to deal with the divorce bureaucracy, don't cut it."

Sirius chuckled, looking pleased to have gotten her out of that cloud of self-deprecation. He was very good at it. ‘’Don't worry, I don't want to deal with these papers anytime soon.. Hope never actually...want to go home?’’

“Are you going to get that massage you promised me two weeks ago?” His gray eyes sparkled, his cheeks still a little flushed and a beautiful smile on his lips. Hestia remembered the girls talking about how he looked at her, and she didn't blame them for wanting that either.

‘’Of course, and then we can enjoy the shower-’’

"No way." They laughed, Sirius sighing in defeat.

"I'll still convince you and you'll regret not listening to me sooner." They intertwined their fingers, Sirius pulling her towards the exit, nodding casually to his coworkers, a little hastily.

'I'll let you try, but I promise nothing…'

#sirius x hestia #my babies #sirius black #everyone lives #marauders #padfoot #hestia jones #my fic

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 3, Ch. 1

PART 3: THE YEAR OF QUIDDITCH & MAGICAL CREATURES Chapter 1 - Bill the Prefect

Nova

A few days after I returned from my aunt from Scotland, I received a letter from Charlie. Pip looked so pleased to see me as I decided to leave him at home since I knew my aunt has plenty of owls I could borrow. I was a little afraid that Pip would be angry with me for that but he looked rather cheerful.

“What are you up to, my little feather friend?” I petted his soft head and took the scroll he had tied around his foot.

Dear Nova,

After the last owl your mum sent to mine, Pip decided to stay with us and I can't wait to tell you how funny it was when he tried to befriend Errol but apparently, she is just as awkward at social interactions as she is with delivering letters.

Pip was a very good boy and he kept me company in my room. Ginny wanted him in her room, of course, she said that it's not fair that I get to keep him since she misses you more and that I have you for the entire school year.

I am sending him back now, as your mum wrote in the previous letter that you might be back soon. She and my mum also made arrangements for the picnic next week since your dad has a few days off.

Oh, and Bill and Ginny wanted to let you know that they are saying hello.

Can't wait to see you next week!

Love, Charlie

I folded the parchment and looked at Pip who hooted proudly. He was spending time at the Burrow, while I was at my aunt's.

“Lucky bloke.” I showed him my tongue and he seemed even more amused now.

I gave him some food and rushed down the stairs to tell my mum about the picnic.

“Mum! Mum!”

“In the living room, sweetheart!” I heard her say.

“Mum, Charlie wrote to me and we are invited to a picnic at the Weasley's next week!” I sat next to her on the sofa.

“I know already, darling. Molly sent me an owl yesterday morning.” I frowned. Why was I the last one to know everything?

“Are you excited to see Charlie?” She winked at me.

I couldn't believe her! After 2 years she still didn't give me a break! I never replied to her mocking comments anymore and I acted as if it didn't phase me at all at this point. I was hoping she would stop but if you'd saw her face right now, you would know that she is still amused about her little joke.

“So, how many days did dad get off work?” I changed the topic. She rolled her eyes, giving up on her silly question.

“He is getting 3 days. So I was thinking we could go to the ZOO one day and then spend the other two days at the Weasley's.” She brushed my hair with her fingers.

“I miss him so much! I wish he could stay for longer.” I bowed my head.

I haven't seen my dad since the beginning of the Summer. He came home a day after I arrived from Hogwarts, which was such a surprise and my mum was so happy that she kept it from me. We spent a couple of days together which was not enough, since I needed an entire day just to tell him about my Second Year at Hogwarts.

Then we had to leave to visit our dull relatives in America and since the trip cost me my quality time with dad I liked them even less now.

The last time I saw him was when we went to Greece for a little vacation. Turns out my dad had to look at a temple there that was covered with suspicious runes and I was allowed to look at them with him!

Not only was it going to be a good story for my Ancient Runes class that I am taking this year, but it was also one of the best times I had with my dad in a while. Being with him is always so much fun and it makes mum happy as well and just being a family is something that I've missed so much last Summer.

—

Needless to say, just by seeing dad more often is was the best Summer ever. When we returned home and he had to go back to work, I decided to accept my aunt's invitation and visit her and her little Abraxan family in Scotland.

It turned out that I arrived just in time as one of her Abraxan's was due to have her baby. Sending pictures of the baby and Angel made Charlie jealous again which was a very nice amusement for me.

Angel was now all grown up and when I was packing my things to go to Scotland, I couldn't help but wonder if he was going to remember me at all. Much to my surprise, he was waiting for me when I arrived and my aunt told me that he has been more playful and cheerful ever since my arrival announcement.

My aunt and I trained him for a couple of days and we were trying to prepare him for his first flight with a human. I couldn't believe my aunt was going to let me do this! Of course, she made me swear not to tell my parents as they would have her head. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the moment to arrive and even though I was quite nervous, I was confident that my relationship with Angel was strong enough for us to see the grasslands from above the clouds together.

It seemed that I was the only one nervous because when I took Angel out that day and told him we were going to fly, he kneeled and offered me a seat immediately.

And let me tell you that flying on Angel was the best thing I have ever experienced. I was wondering if this is how Muggles feel when they fly with a plane. It was so liberating and the view was breathtaking. Not to mention how good it felt to know that an Abraxan trusts me so much and Angel was very careful not to make any sudden movements or fly too quickly for me to fall off him.

The very next morning I decided to make Charlie even more jealous and sent him a message with Pip telling him all about my flying session. I assumed he was very mad at me when the owl he sent back was Errol and not Pip and the message was short and to the point, saying only that he is happy for me. No hello and no goodbye.

—

The message Pip brought me this morning and reading about how excited he was for the picnic made me think that perhaps he finally forgave me for rubbing it in his face about my amazing adventure with Angel.

—

I came back from my daydreaming as I felt my mum brushing my hair with her fingertips.

“I know you miss your dad, sweetheart. I miss him too. He is just so busy at work, if you're going to be a Curse Breaker, you'll see how it is.” She smiled at me.

“You know I don't want to be a Curse Breaker, mum.” I frowned at her. As if I don't talk about animals 24 hours a day.

“Well, you know your dad and I will support you no matter what you decide to do.”

I started packing the very next day as I couldn't convince my mum to buy all my books in advance for my Third Year so that I could read them. One of these years she will have to let me do it. Perhaps in my O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. year!

I sent my answer back to Charlie with Pip and ordered him to just stay there. I knew Charlie was going to take good care of him.

I was drawing as much as my hands possibly let me for the next week. I couldn't believe how busy I was in my Second Year, I hardly drew at all at school. And I wanted to get as much out of it as possible since we would have 2 new subjects this year, I knew I was going to have even less time and it kept the time going, as I couldn't wait to go to the Burrow again.

I also took the time to write back to Penny, Tonks, and Tulip as I was neglecting their letters when I was at my aunt's.

Penny wrote to me several times. She was having a pretty good Summer despite the fact that they didn't take their annual Muggle vacation. She said that she was having a surprisingly good time with her relatives and what came as an even bigger surprise was the fact that her dad, who was a Muggle, had a nice time too, despite the relatives being all Magic folk.

Tonks wrote to me twice. Once for advice on which prank should she perform next on her parents and the second one to scold us all as apparently she also wrote to Tulip, Penny and Charlie and Tulip and I agreed on the same prank but Penny and Charlie said that she should pick the other one. She said that we didn't help her at all and what good is she keeping us as friends. Of course, I knew she was joking and it was funny to see that her Summer didn't change at all from that of last year.

A few days before my dad came home for us to go to the Burrow, Tonks wrote to me again. It was a short letter but I don't know if I have ever gasped so much at the news.

Wotcher Nova,

I hope you are having a nice Summer. I just wanted to tell you that perhaps my parents aren't the worst. Today at breakfast, my mum didn't call me by the name we don't mention but called me Dora instead.

I have to say it does have a better ring to it. What do you think?

Miss you loads,

Tonks

Dora? Not bad! She didn't mind it as much as Nymphadora and she said something nice about her parents for a change. If Penny was here she would have tears in her eyes and she would say that Tonks is finally growing up.

The last one I had to reply to was Tulip. She couldn't stop talking about all the items she was going to buy in Hogsmeade this year. Apparently, business was doing rather well for her mum's coffee shop and she said that she learned that if she smiles more to the customers, they think she's cute and she gets a bigger tip.

I guess she started using her charm on the guests because I know that the list of prank items she wants to get from Zonko's cost a fortune.

—

The day to see the Weasley family again has finally arrived. My dad came home yesterday and we spent it in the living room discussing my Third Year and my dad gave me a really old book about translating ancient runes. He said that it might come in handy in class and I couldn't wait to read the whole thing before the start of school on 1st September and I knew Bill would like to go through it after I am done.

I was all packed and ran down the stairs to the living room where my parents were already waiting with the bag of Floo Powder.

“I think you should go first, pumpkin.” My dad winked at me and handed me the bag of Floo.

I put my hand inside and took out a handful of powder and stepped into our fireplace.

“Now, careful with the pronunciation, pumpkin.” He always said that, no matter how many times I traveled with Floo Powder. It might get annoying to some but since I don't get to see my dad so often I knew it meant a lot to him to be the one to do some parenting.

“The Burrow!” I spoke clearly and the last thing I saw before appearing in Weasley's living room was my dad's proud face.

“Nova!” One of the twins helped me dust myself off.

“Welcome back!” Said the other one.

I knew they were only 8 years old but I'm sure they were a head taller than the last time I saw them.

I gave them a hug and they rushed out to where I presumed the rest of the Weasley kids were playing Quidditch.

“Nova, dear. How are you? Welcome back!” Molly, like always greeted me with extended arms and a big smile on her face. A second later my mum appeared in the fireplace.

“Ah, Olivia. So good to see you.” Molly hugged my mum.

“Arthur will be home any second now and the boys and Ginny are playing Quidditch outside.” Molly winked at me because she must've seen that I would rather not be there when the adults do their catching up.

As I got outside, Ginny spotted me at once.

“Nova!” She squeaked and gave me a big hug. “Come quickly, the boys are just going to finish the game and you can join the next one!”

She was just adorable. Big eyes, long fiery hair, and cheeks almost as freckled as Charlie's.

I looked to the Orchard and saw Bill, Charlie, and what looked like the twins flying. Ron was waiting for his turn on the broom, having a rather sad look on his face and I wasn't even surprised that Percy wasn't there as he was probably in his room, reading.

I was excited to play Quidditch with the boys and get in as much practice as possible as I was planning to try out for the House Team this year. Charlie and I discussed it since we would be playing against one another as he got on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in the last weeks before the end of last year and we decided we would be okay competing against each other as he was the Seeker and I was going to try out for the Chaser position.

Ginny and I got closer to the boys and just as we did, Charlie lowered his body closer to the broom, gained speed, stretched out his hand, and caught the Snitch. I heard the twins using a couple of swear words I am sure would put them in trouble if Molly heard them as they were walking towards us.

“Why did you catch the Snitch so fast, Charlie?” Bill asked and then saw me standing at the edge of the pitch with Ginny. He looked at Charlie and back at me and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Show off.” He said to Charlie, whose cheeks were now covered in a pink hue, and ruffled his hair.

“Hi, Nova!” Charlie gave me a tight hug that reminded me that of Molly's. After him, Bill hugged me as well and gave me his broom.

“If Charlie's going to show off in front of you, might as well play on the same team.”

The twins were already running back to the hoops.

“C'mon! George, you promised!” Ron ran after them.

“Want to play a game with us?” Charlie scratched the back of his head.

“I thought you'd never ask!” I replied, lifting Bill's broom.

We ran back to the pitch. Fred and George got so much better compared to last Summer as Charlie and I barely beat them and I don't know how the game would've ended if George wouldn't finally give in to Ron, who was sitting at the edge of the pitch looking miserable and allowed him to play with Fred for 10 minutes.

The sun was going down and Bill came to tell us that dinner was ready. We were sitting outside, as the evenings were still warm and there were too many of us to sit inside anyway. Bill, Percy, Ron, and Ginny helped set the table as we washed ourselves and put the brooms back where they belong.

I hurried inside to say hello to my dad who was in a heated debate about the Ministry with Arthur.

“There she is! My Quidditch player.” I sat on his lap and he hugged me tightly.

Molly soon called us all to the table and I couldn't imagine a more perfect scene. Molly was asking my mum what type of cauldron she has for potions and my dad and Arthur were reminiscing on their days at Hogwarts. Ron and Ginny were annoying Percy as he wanted to leave the table sooner and they didn't let him. Fred and George were whispering about something that sounded like fireworks or firecrackers or something to do with fire.

Meanwhile, Bill finally got the time to tell me that he was made a Prefect.

“Congratulations, Bill! Charlie, why didn't you tell me?” I poked his ribs with my finger.

“Because he likes to talk about himself in his letters to you, don't you Charlie?” Bill chuckled.

“Bug off, Bill.” Charlie frowned, crossed his hands on his chest, his face red as his hair.

“Just know that this year there won't be any rule-breaking! Not on my watch!” Bill joked and made a rather serious face that made both me and Charlie laugh.

It was a perfect night. Me, my best friend and our families together. I couldn't help but wish that we could do this more often.

After dinner, my mum was helping Molly clean the kitchen, Fred and George went to their room, Ron tried to convince Percy to play Wizard Chess with him, Ginny was playing with Pip while Bill, Charlie and I sat on the sofa and read.

I showed them the book my dad gave me and we were scrolling through it to see what to expect from the Ancient Runes class this year.

All of a sudden an owl burst through the open door that led to the garden, dropped a letter in my dad's lap, and flew out.

I frowned. I knew exactly what a golden-blue envelope meant. My dad had to go back to work. He sighed and opened the letter.

“When do you have to go?” My mum started reading the letter behind his shoulder. “Now.” My dad said and looked at me.

“Come here, pumpkin.” He waved with his hand and I followed him outside.

“I am so sorry I have to leave again.” His lips curved into a sad expression. “I know I promised you a couple of days before you go back to school.”

“It's okay dad. I understand.” I tried to act as though it wasn't breaking my heart that he had to go.

“It's not okay. You shouldn't be without your dad so much.” He hugged me. “I will try to get at least a couple of hours off for Christmas. Do you know if you'll be coming home this year?” He asked.

“I don't know. It really depends if mum will get time off and what my friends will have in plan.” I gave out a weak smile and bowed my head.

“Listen, I know I might not be around much but I hope you know how proud I am of you. You have good grades, you are trying out for Quidditch this year and I know I haven't met your girls, but Charlie seems like a really good friend.” He lifted my chin.

“He is.” I smiled. “He's my best friend.”

“I am happy to hear that. Molly and Arthur were amazing friends to me and your mum when we were in school. I am confident all of their children are great.” He hugged me again and placed something in my hand.

It was a small bag that seemed to be filled with coins.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I didn't have time to buy you any art supplies so when you'll go shopping for your books, buy yourself some.” He winked at me, gave me another tight hug, and accompanied me back inside.

He said goodbye to everyone and disapparated in the Garden. I watched the spot he disappeared at as if waiting for him to come back.

“Are you okay?” Charlie interrupted my stare.

“I'll be fine.” I smiled at him and he hugged me.

My dad was right, Weasley's were a great family. The best actually.

—

The next day my mum and I said goodbye to them and went back home. I was sad to leave Charlie so quickly but I knew it was almost time to go back to school and that cheered me up.

The next few weeks were busy. My mum and I went shopping for my new books, we visited Tulip in her mum's café and she even allowed me to go inside Quality Quidditch Supplies. She knew that she wouldn't hear the end of it if she wouldn't let me go.

I also told her about the money dad gave me and she took me to several shops where I got some new pencils, two new notebooks, and a new quill. I decided to save the rest of the money for sweets and Butterbeer for when we go to Hogsmeade this year.

I was happy how fast the days were flying. I helped my mum around the house most days, as she decided to redecorate the terrace and the living room, and one day we went up the attic and while we were cleaning she found an old album from her days at Hogwarts. I couldn't believe how young they were once and I almost didn't recognize my mum and Molly in the picture they took when they went to the Ball. Let's just say my dad and Arthur were two really lucky blokes!

When mum and I arrived at Platform 9 ¾ I spotted Charlie immediately. This time around Percy, the twins, Ron, and Ginny were with them. Apparently, they wanted to see the Hogwarts Express and go through the wall according to one of the twins.

Bill, Charlie, and I waved to our mums until the train took a turn and they disappeared out of sight. Bill told us to go find our friends as he was supposed to have a meeting with other Prefects and then chaperone the corridors.

We found the compartment Tulip and Penny were sitting in and as we sat down, Tonks joined us as well.

“Hi, Dora!” I greeted Tonks as she sat next to me.

“On the second thought, I think I will stick with not liking my parents.” She said after giving the sound of her new nickname a thought. We all laughed.

Penny told us just how proud her dad was when she told him she was going to take Muggle Studies this year and she said that he gave her three books about how electricity works. The only thing I knew about it was how to pronounce it. That didn't seem to be the case when it came to Tulip and Tonks as both had a puzzled look on their face when Penny was explaining how to pronounce it for the third time.

Tulip said that she couldn't wait to find Jae and that along with Tonks they would have to cause a lot of mischief this year because her mum didn't allow her to do anything but work in the shop all Summer.

“Not on my watch, Tulip.” Bill joined us in the compartment.

“Oh, right. We have a Prefect in the family now.” Giggled Tonks.

“Congratulations, Bill! They couldn't get a better person for the job!” Beamed Penny. Charlie and I exchanged looks and started giggling.

Bill then told us all about the meeting. Who the other Prefects were and what exactly were their responsibilities. I know I am not the one to talk, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest with Charlie last year wasn't exactly obeying the rules, but being a Prefect sounded like something I might want to put on my wish list.

Then he told us all about how nervous he is about their Career Advice Meeting, which all 5th Year students have to attend. He wasn't confident that he has the suitable grades to become a Curse Breaker and when he started thinking about other options, he couldn't think of any and started to panic.

We calmed him down, as we were sure he was overreacting when it comes to his grades just as much as Penny did every year and in the end came out on the top of our class.

After it seemed he calmed down a little, he said goodbye as it was his turn to keep watch on the corridors.

We started talking about our Elective Subjects and wondered how they would be and if we made the right choice. Penny was sad that she was the only one who picked subjects that none of us picked and she didn't want to be alone in class. We quickly reminded her that she taught half of our year Potions in both First and Second Year and that there is bound to be someone she knows.

Tulip and Tonks shared Divination. Charlie, Tonks, and I shared Care of Magical Creatures and as Tulip, Charlie, and I shared Ancient Runes I decided to show the book my dad got me to her and she said that she was rather excited about the subject now, if we were going to learn about what was in the book.

Charlie and I soon went into our little world of Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures. We went through our list of Creatures we bet were in the Creature Reserve at school and then we talked about beating each other in Quidditch.

Before we realized we were close to school, Bill came into our compartment again to tell us to put on our robes and prepare to get off the train.

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naitiaclo960writings · 4 years

Text

Day 5 - Daydream

Castiel sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he got back from his break. Don’t get him wrong, he loved that part-time librarian job he got on the campus of his university. Mainly because it helped him earn a little extra money, but also because this work pushed him to meet a whole bunch of different people in an environment that he liked.

If one had to stick to the classical patterns of students, Castiel certainly belonged to the nerds club. He was rather reserved and always immersed in a book, in his revisions or, why not, absorbed by a game on his phone. Fortunately, Castiel did not wear glasses and did not know how to recite all the decimals of Pi to perfectly fit the cliché, otherwise, he was convinced that he would have far fewer friends than now. That was the sad reality around here…

However, he continued to be greedy for new encounters, convinced that each person possessed a unique beauty that he longed to discover. All this, however, contrasted with his unrecoverable shyness, prompting him to babble in situations where he was under social pressure. Thus, this work was perfect for him: he did not have to go to others, it was the whole university that came to him. Some came to renew their student cards, others came to borrow books or ask for advice on their homework and the rest just liked to go to the library to have a quiet place to indulge in their extracurricular activities.

To top it all off, his work did not require too much effort. Castiel was mainly in charge of restocking, setting up new books and welcoming students. As a result, he had enough free time to get bored and start imagining the life of every person passing the threshold of the library. Austin Southwest Institute of Technology was not particularly large, but it had enough students for Castiel to have not yet managed to learn all the faces yet.

There was one person, however, whom he found himself waiting for impatiently every day. It was obviously irrational, this boy did not pay him any particular attention, only making small talks a few minutes before leaving to sit in a corner of the library with a headset shouting classic rock in the ears for hours. But whatever the nature of their exchange, Castiel was dying to see even the hint of a smile addressed to him on the wonderful face of Dean Winchester.

Castiel sighed with spite. Damn it, he was ridiculous. He was no better than those starry-eyed girls drooling in front of the school jocks.

…Was Dean a sportsperson by the way? It was clear that he looked pretty muscular under his over-sized shirts. One day when it was particularly hot outside, Castiel even had the privilege of seeing him in a t-shirt, his muscular arms exposed to the sun filtering through the windows and… Okay, Dean was definitely athletic. In fact, Dean seemed perfect in every way, which was embarrassing because he knew very little about the dude…

The first time he had met him—if you could call it a meeting—was three months earlier, at the start of the school year, when Dean came to ask for his library card. That smile in his voice had been immediately communicative and Castiel had stuttered like an idiot after each of his jokes. He was still blushing when he thought about it…

Talking about a crush might not be too much in this case, but Castiel felt so helpless in the face of this situation. If he’d been a little braver, he’d have asked Dean on a date a long time ago. Instead, he spent his days hoping to see him at the corner of a shelf and daydreaming about a potential early relationship with him, even if it was a friendly one.

Still, Castiel was sure that being friends with Dean wasn’t complicated. He always seemed cheerful and friendly, never out of conversation and above all, very devoted to others. Sometimes he would lean on Castiel’s desk to talk for at least fifteen minutes, talking about everything really until another student complained that he was making too much noise. These were undoubtedly the days Castiel preferred. Although Dean was very inconspicuous and attracted a lot of glares when he laughed at Castiel’s jokes — although he did not see why his words were funny —, Castiel could not bring himself to gently call him to order. His laughter was too captivating for that.

"Cassie?" A voice suddenly echoed behind Castiel.

This one was taken away from his delusions and turned around. Balthazar, another two-year-older student also working at the library, appeared and saw the absent look on his colleague’s face.

"Okay…" Balthazar sighed. "I’m not going to ask you what you were thinking about because the conversation is going to revolve around that Winchester boy and annoy me again. So…” He turned around to point to a wagon, ignoring Castiel’s jaded pout. "We received this week’s order. It’s your turn to put them in the shelves.

"It’s always my turn to put them in the shelves." Castiel deplored, moving towards the wagon, while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget those on the reserve either." Balthazar gave him a mocking smile before coming to take his place at the reception, taking out his phone without any more consideration.

Castiel shrugged and set to work. Among the shelves, it was more difficult to have a view of the entrance to the library and therefore of Dean’s arrival. But after a quick look at the clock, he realized it was already past 4:00 p.m. Castiel pinched his lips, unable not to feel this hint of disappointment at the idea that Dean would probably not come today. Suddenly, his already boring day was turning into a really bad day.

He was still dreaming of everything he could have talked about with Dean today when his foot tripped over a piece of warped linoleum and made him fall to the ground in a big crash. The books he carried in his arms were scattered on the ground while Castiel grumbled, attracting the curious glances of several students. Great… When was the day supposed to end already? Shameful, Castiel began to rise slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground, before hearing a slight embarrassed laugh.

However, he knew this sound far more than any other in this library. Biting his tongue of apprehension, Castiel raised his eyes to the source of laughter. Dean had just knelt beside him, his own affairs in his arms and looking at him with uncertainty.

"You’re okay?" He simply asked, and Castiel could not help shaking his head foolishly.

"Yes, no, it’s okay." He blushed slightly, growling inwardly. "I was distracted…"

Dean hummed softly and put down his notebooks before he began to help him pick up the books. Castiel remained stupidly motionless for a moment before imitating him, swallowing loudly. What could he have done to deserve such a humiliation today? However, Dean did not make any more fun of him and Castiel allowed himself to relax gently, glancing at Dean from time to time.

"I hate this alley too." Dean went on with a compassionate smile. "I must have stumbled at least a hundred times on the damn floor. It’s a shame, the books are rather interesting around here, but it’s at our peril." He let out a little amused sigh.

Castiel smiled back, grateful to the reassuring tone of the other student. However, he did not have time to reply that Dean resumed.

"Oh man!" He exclaimed, bringing a book to himself before smiling at the cover. "They seriously wrote a whole book about the Pi value? Damn it, my little brother taught me at least the first ten decimals of this thing."

Castiel suspended his movement before raising wide eyes to Dean.

"Really?" He asked, in disbelief, while tilting his head slightly.

This time, it was Dean’s turn to appear embarrassed and, if Castiel thought that his smile was the most beautiful expression of his face, it was only because he had never seen his cheeks turning red before. Dean raised his eyebrows toward him and scratched the back of his neck distractedly before resuming his task.

"Yeah, he loves math…" He mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Castiel felt a laughter rising in his belly without ever passing the barrier of his lips. Dean Winchester knew Pi’s decimals. He could not prevent a dumbstruck smile to come up his face.

"I think it's... cool." Castiel said after a while.

These few words had the effect of relaxing Dean somewhat, who smiled back at him after a shy look.

"Me too." Dean admitted, nodding. "He’s four years younger than me, but he’s got the brains."

Castiel lapped up everything Dean said like a thirsty man. Every detail about Dean mattered to him, and just the proud tone he used in speaking of his younger brother was enough to reinforce the emerging affection Castiel had for him. With a light heart, he lowered his eyes again to pick up the last books when his attention was drawn to a piece of paper flying close to him. Frowning, he intercepted it and nearly lost his breath when he discovered what was on it.

Some would have lingered on the beauty of the drawings before their eyes, the confident features and the shades of gray reflecting volumes to perfection. Some were wonderfully detailed and others more quickly executed, giving them a certain charm. Honestly, Castiel would surely have looked into all this himself if he had not immediately recognized his face on each of these drafts. He remained frozen in front of these miniature representations, his eyes jumping from one drawing to another. He recognized himself on each illustration: him storing books on a particularly high shelf, him bored at the desk or helping Jack with his human sciences’ homework as every Tuesday. The majority of the drawings appeared to be made from the same angle, but each breathed a surprising delicacy.

"Whoops!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. "I think that’s mine."

When he tried to take the piece of paper back, Castiel withdrew out of reach and continued to examine the sketches. Dean blushed more and more, biting his lip with mortification. Finally, in the face of Castiel’s silence, he let out an embarrassed little laugh that could not hide his anguish.

"I… Yeah, uh… My brother is more of a scientist, but… I prefer to draw." He muttered before swallowing with difficulty." "But I can assure you that I am not freak with a weirdo obsession!" Dean added in haste. "It’s just that… the light is super good here and… Uh…"

Castiel nodded slowly before turning his gaze of admiration to Dean. This one swallowed again, playing nervously with the zipper of his leather jacket. Castiel felt exhilarated, the fragile hope at the bottom of his chest never ceasing to send bursts of happiness into the rest of his body. When he offered Dean a big, hesitant smile, he saw Dean’s shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I find it very successful. No one had ever drawn me before." Castiel confessed, sincere.

Dean let out a deep sigh that amused Castiel a bit more.

"Okay, great, because I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest." Dean joked, not without a look still somewhat shameful, like a child caught in the act.

The two of them gathered the rest of the books and Castiel returned his drawings to Dean. At this precise moment, their looks crossed and none broke eye contact, their fingers brushing around the piece of paper. Finally, Castiel carefully followed the ridge of Dean’s nose until he reached his full lips soon joined by a piece of pink tongue that slowly moistened them. Castiel took a deep inspiration to try to stay composed, having the unpleasant impression that it did not work at all in front of these green and piercing eyes.

"Do you know which other place has great light?" Dean suddenly asked, Castiel’s attention jumping instantly from his lips to his eyes.

"Tell me?" He replied, bending his head to the side again.

"Bobby’s café three blocks from here, on the main avenue." Dean smiled with a pout that twisted Castiel’s stomach in all the right ways. "Tomorrow, 5:00 p.m.? I think I really need to practice my shadows…"

And although Castiel wanted to contradict him on the quality of his drawings, he felt his throat tightening to Dean’s words. Was it a date? Because it sounded dangerously as such and Castiel could not wrap his mind around it right now. He was probably in the middle of another one of his daydreams, wasn’t he?

"Of course, if I can help…" The words left his throat by themselves and Castiel was almost sure to gain a few more colors.

"Great!" Dean exclaimed, his lips stretching out in another dazzling smile. "Wait, take this in case you can’t find the address."

Immediately, Dean took a pen out of his bag to come and scribble on the paper with his drawings. When he handed it to Castiel, he noticed a telephone number with Dean’s first name beside it accompanied by a smiling smiley face. Castiel remained foolishly in front of the paper, his body having apparently stopped consulting his brain to make him ridiculous.

"T-Thank-"

"Gee, I have to go!" Dean cut him off, checking his cell phone. He put a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder before he started to walk away. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow after work, okay? We’ll walk together to the café. See you later!"

And just like that, he was gone. Castiel was still trying to figure out what had happened. Dean asked him out on a date, handing him his telephone number to give him the address before telling him that he would pick him up directly from the library. Dean who secretly drew him from God knows how long or even used a nickname at the end of their conversation. Oh and, also: Dean Winchester asked him out on a freaking date.

When the reason of his daydreams was definitely out of sight, Castiel looked again at the piece of paper before feeling a broad smile covering his face. He sighed before folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. It was good to have dreams.

* * * @winchester-reload Some more tooth-rotting Destiel fluff for you, hope you enjoyed it!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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rhubarbbaby · 4 years

Text

Strawberries and Art 3

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 5k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spent most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 3

You woke up to the exaggeratedly loud chirping of a bird that seemed to be sitting right on your window sill. What was it even doing there? Rude. Rolling to your side, the first rays of sunshine fell onto your face. Not wanting to open your eyes just yet you let the warmth linger on your face. As your consciousness slowly tore itself free from the claws of the dreams, you wouldn´t be able to remember in a second, you realized you were still wearing the jeans from last night. Last night…Last night…Jihoon. Suddenly everything that happened hit you like bricks.

Did Jihoon really walk you home? Had he really held your hand? For a moment you thought you were messing up remaining pieces of your dreams with reality but then you remembered the text he had sent you before you fell asleep. Prying your eyes open you looked at your phone. The text was still there, staring back at you, still unanswered. (You also had 4 unread messages from Jo but you couldn´t care less right now)

Unknown: I just got home. Goodnight, Sweetie. Don´t forget to drink lots of water!

Sweetie. You knew you wouldn´t be getting used to that soon. When he had called you Sweetie last night you felt so taken aback because maybe for the first time in your life, you had enjoyed a guy calling you by a pet name. He had sounded so honest, in a certain way even serious, he had sounded so different from all those boys who were calling girls by all those sickly sweet things just to get into their pants, belittling them in the process. He had been so incredibly considerate. The way his voice had seemed to have gotten a tad bit deeper when saying it, the way you could practically hear him smirking, it was sheer impossible getting used to something like that.

After you had saved his contact you stared at your phone. Simply seeing his name on your screen made your heart, not jump, but it did make a distinct little hop. With a big sigh you let yourself fall back onto your mattress. What crazy ass romantic movie parallel universe have you stumbled into? Meeting a guy you were interested in, was already a rare occurrence. But meeting a guy you were interested in, who was also showing interest in you (AND CALLED YOU SWEETIE) was something that only happened once in a blue moon.

You knew you had to send him a reply. It didn´t help that you were reading his message over and over again, hearing his voice in your head. You needed to focus. Just because you didn´t have to look him in the eyes, and didn´t have to actually form words with your mouth, just because you simply had to type it, you did only spend about 5 minutes coming up with a (you hoped) funny text.

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

After hitting send you instantly threw your phone onto your bed. You were scared of him answering right away. Scared but also excited but also scared. Giggling to yourself because you were aware of how dramatic you were handling the entire situation you decided to get up and start with your day. It was only eight and you made an agreement with yourself not to think about him until after breakfast because having a crush on a (extremely beautiful and funny and handsome and hot) boy who you had just met two days ago was ridiculous, or so you told yourself. Taking a shower, brushing your teeth, putting on clean clothes… your undertaking was going well, you hadn´t thought of him, at least not directly. You had thought of not thinking about him…and you counted that as a win. During breakfast you decided to check Jo´s messages.

Jo: Did you use condoms??

Jo: Did you get home safely?

Jo: Is he staying over?

Jo: Are you ok?

You couldn´t help but laugh at how excited she was about the whole situation. She probably had been annoying Hansol with it all evening. Poor man.

You: Yup I got home very safely. And no he didn´t stay over.

You: We had so much fun tho.

You: Did you get home safely?

She answered within two minutes.

Jo: Don´t you dare make this about me. I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING.

Jo: Did you kiss?

You: No we didn´t. But we held hands.

Jo: CUTE. When will you see him again?

You: I don´t know yet. I hope soon.

Jo: I hope so too. I´m already planning the marriage.

You: omg stop it…LOL

Just after you had hit send, you felt your phone vibrate with a new text. Of course it was from Jihoon. Without an ounce of hesitation you practically threw your phone next to you on the couch. You did not want to look at it. Actually, you did. But you needed to physically prepare yourself for reading what he had messaged you. You could feel your heart oh so clearly in your chest. How ridiculous it was that you reacted this way just because of a goddamn text…Calm down. You took a deep breath in and out.

Before reading his new message (and it wasn´t just one!!!! There were three of them) you reread what you had last written.

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

Deep breath in. And out.

Jihoon: Hahahahaha yes Y/N, that is fucked up.

Jihoon: But I´m pretty sure you still looked cute.

Jihoon: You wanna get lunch tomorrow after class?

HOLY FUCK. This was real. You just got asked on a date by one of the most beautiful boys you had ever seen. Yes, you had already held hands yesterday, but there had been alcohol involved and people do a lot of things when they´re drunk. But all of your past overthinking just turned out to have been utterly pointless because Jihoon wanted to see you again. And he had called you cute. Your entire face was burning and your stomach seemed to do some weird gymnastic exercises.

You did not have to think long before typing your answer.

You: I´d love that :)

Jihoon: Awesome. I´ll show you my favorite place.

He actually wanted to show you his favorite place. Your heart was still beating way too fast and the blush on your face was still very visible but at the same time you felt a calming warmth spread through your stomach. You remembered you had felt so comfortable talking to him last night and for some dumb cliché romantic movie reason you felt like you had already known him for years. And now he wanted to show you his favorite place. That was a big hell of a deal. You couldn´t stop smiling.

After dumbly grinning at the ceiling for several seconds you scolded yourself. You couldn´t just be lying around all day daydreaming about a boy. Sighing you remembered that today, you had to finally start with your portrait assignment. It was already due on Wednesday. You needed it to be good. Your professor was very supportive and had been pushing you to become better. Disappointing her was the last thing you wanted to do. But you didn´t even know who you wanted to draw yet…some random celebrity was just boring…a family member maybe? But you had all drawn them before already. Burying your face in your hands you sat on your couch. After about fifteen minutes you reluctantly started sketching your mother´s face. You´ve drawn her face so many times already, it was nothing special. You weren´t satisfied with your choice at all but you couldn´t think of someone better at the moment.

When you realized it was already getting dark outside you stared down at the lines you had been working on for basically the entire day. You didn´t like it. Far back in your head you knew that other people would label your work as good, maybe even great, but you just couldn´t bring yourself to like it. The facial features you were trying to portrait just didn´t seem right to you. You only had so many good pictures of your mother and remembering every single wrinkle and mark on her face was harder than you thought. The way the lines were flowing over the paper didn´t look right, it didn´t look like you had drawn them. You were aware that every artist had days like this, but the deadline was next week and you simply didn´t have the time to start over. Also you had a date tomorrow. How the fuck were you going to survive the next days?

Before going to bed you forced yourself to lay out the clothes you wanted to wear for tomorrow. You weren´t exactly a morning person and you knew you´d panic if you had to find an outfit to wear right after waking up. An outfit Jihoon was going to see you in…

You fell asleep thinking of tomorrow, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation making your stomach feel weird.

The first thing you did, after waking up the next day, was to check your phone:

Jihoon: You still up for lunch today?

Jihoon: 1pm in front of the arts building?

You: I´ll be there!

After having typed an answer, you got dressed, grabbed all your things and left your apartment. You weren´t one of those people who got up an hour earlier to do yoga or whatever bullshit normal people do in the morning. Every day you woke up only twenty minutes before your first lecture started. Every single second of sleep counted.

While you were walking you got a message from Jo.

Jo: You up for breakfast after the second lesson? You need to tell me everything!!!!

You knew she was probably already dying from curiosity. She was too nosy for her own good. But you had mercy.

You: Sure!

You were actually looking forward to telling Jo everything. You still couldn´t believe what had happened yourself, maybe it would become more real through finally saying everything out loud. Your first two lessons you spent listening to the professor talk about Paul Cézanne and, for some reason, reciting every last unnecessary detail of his private life. You decided that the only important piece of information from this lecture was that some of Cézanne´s landscape paintings were sort of pretty.

When you finally sunk down in the chair opposite of Jo´s you were already grinning. You simply could not wait for her reaction to everything. She immediately leaned forward while leaning on her elbows. “Start already” “Oh my god. Can´t I just relax for a second.” “NO.” You had to giggle at her urgency. “Alright, alright…”

After you had told her everything, from the long talk the two of you had had, over the way he had made you blush continuously, to when he had walked you home and had given you his phone number she just said, “That´s so unbearably cute and romantic it´s disgusting.” You couldn´t help but laugh out loud at her remark. “You two are so sickeningly romantic I wanna die. Why can´t you be as cool as me and Hansol?” she was grinning. “First of all, we´re not a couple and second of all, you two are at least as disgusting!” you were laughing. “You realize mine and Hansol´s first date was when I drank too much and he had to hold my hair while I was throwing up?” “Yeah. I know the story.”, you were still laughing. She continued anyway “And then he drove me home. And he kissed me even though I had just thrown up minutes ago. Ok, now that I think of it, maybe our first date was even more disgusting. I´ll shut up.” Both of your laughter was carried through the entire cafeteria. The other people, who were most likely just trying to have a calm morning were probably already, annoyed by the both of you but you couldn´t care less. “Also. I kinda maybe have a lunch date with him later.” “You´re kidding!!!!!” You just shook your head and smiled. “Oh my god, I´m dying this is the cutest shit. I´m sooo happy for you. Are you nervous?” “So fucking much. But I can´t wait to see him again.”

The rest of your classes passed rather quickly. Not being the biggest fan of auditory learning you were happy about it, but at the same time you couldn´t help getting more nervous every time the hand of the clock on the wall moved. Rationally you knew you were being silly. There was nothing to worry about. You were only going on a date with the most attractive guy you´ve ever seen, who is able to make you blush with just a raise of his eyebrow. There was totally nothing to worry about. Fuck.

When you classes had ended you still had fifteen minutes before you were meeting Jihoon. You were so nervous, your hands were shaking and you didn´t have the faintest clue how you would be able to form a straight sentence later. You slipped through the door into the girl´s bathroom. You washed your hands with cold water while staring at your own face in the mirror. The last time you had spoken to him, you had been drunk, there was no doubt the alcohol had helped you with your anxiety. Today you were on your own. Why did you always have to be so nervous? With one long breath and a last look in the mirror, you were actually happy with how your hair fell today; you pushed yourself away from the sink and made your way to your meeting place.

Through the glass front of the building you could see him standing next to that weird sculpture, which the seniors from last year had designed, in front of the building. He was looking at his phone. Every step you took made you even more nervous (how was that even possible?). How were you going to greet him? Hug him? Shake his hand?? NOoo, what the fuck that´d be way too formal. Why were you thinking bullshit like that? You took a deep breath, put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and opened the door. He still hadn´t seen you.

“Hey.” You called softly, loud enough for him to realize it was meant for him. “Hey you.” He looked up and if you weren´t mistaken, his eyes lit up when he saw you, a sparkle that you were sure you could watch all day. But maybe it was just the sun reflecting in his eyes (it was not). You were now standing in front of him, unsure what to do. He smiled at you; put his phone away in his back pocket and then he pulled you into a hug. Your first hug. And holy fuck, a hug shouldn´t be a big deal but it definitely felt like it. It wasn´t one of those hugs people gave because they thought it was expected of them. His hug was tight and you could actually feel his hands on your back. Jihoon´s embrace was so soft, so affectionate. You actually felt like you were stuck in one of Claude Monet´s paintings. Gentle, colorful, overwhelming, so beautiful, yet realistic and real. You smiled, thinking of that comparison. Neither one of you noticed the students leaving the building smiling at you because the hug was obviously too long for a hug to be considered normal. He felt so warm and safe, and when you wrapped your arms around him even tighter you briefly touched his hair, and goddamn it, it was so soft.

“It´s good to see you again.” He finally mumbled against your shoulder. “You too.” He pulled away and looked at you. He was grinning like a kid in a candy store, his eyes had disappeared and small wrinkles had appeared around his nose. It was absolutely precious. You had no choice but to smile back at him.

“You hungry?” he finally broke the silence. “A bit.” At that moment your stomach growled. (It must´ve been destiny) “A bit? I see…,” he laughed. Your cheeks flushed with a light tone of red. “Come on.” he took your hand, not giving you enough time to be embarrassed about the situation. “Where are we going?” you asked. “I promised I´d show you my favorite place.” He gently started pulling you away from the building while still looking at you, smiling. Your body still felt like there was electricity running through your veins and your face must have been still flushed red but it felt so right to hold his hand. You smiled back.

He took you to a little ramen restaurant, close to town. The front door seemed so inconspicuous that you had probably walked past it without noticing it in the past. As the two of you entered he was still holding your hand. He led you through the interior of the restaurant, where some people were already having lunch. You knew you already liked the place when you saw how diverse the clientele was. At one table sat two boys, approximately your age, stuffing their mouths full of Ramen, while at another table two businesswomen seemed to have a heated conversation. Jihoon dragged you past them, and only stopped when you were standing in a small backyard with a few tables of which only one of them was occupied by an elderly couple who were sharing a plate of what looked like Gyoza.

You chose the table for two that was the furthest away from the door and took a seat. On the way here, you had been overly focused on Jihoon, on how tightly he pressed your fingers, how he occasionally stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, the quick glances he threw at you, your undivided attention had been all on him but now that you were sitting here in this absolutely adorable backyard, you allowed your brain to briefly focus your attention on your surroundings. Climbing plants were growing up the wall of the house, carrying small pretty blue blossoms, the blue of the flowers looking especially pretty in front of the beige colored wall plaster. In the corner, where two walls from two different buildings met each other, the blue and beige mixed with a white from the neighboring wall and a light pink of some petals that were growing on bushes that were planted there. The colors alone went so beautifully together you just couldn´t help but stare. When you saw the little clay-figure of a frog in a suit sitting on the ground, as if he had to guard those bushes, you had to giggle.

“What is it?” Jihoon interrupted your thoughts. He was beaming at you as if you had just found the cure for cancer. You couldn´t have known it, of course, but Jihoon would´ve been able to watch you look at those flowers for hours on end. He was sure the way your eyes started to sparkle when looking at something beautiful was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Nothing really. It´s just, that frog there looks so adorable.” “What frog?” he turned his head to look at the figure himself and then continued “Oh that frog. That´s just Ferdinand.” As you were laughing at his remark, he smiled fondly at you, proud of himself for being the one bringing those sounds out of you. “Ferdinand? You serious?” you grinned, finally having caught your breath again. “Yep. He´s like my best buddy. We always have very interesting conversations whenever I come here.” “Ferdinand does seem like an intellectual to me, I bet your talks are always incredibly exciting.” At that Jihoon joined your laughter. His laughter reminded you of vacation, of secluded beaches, of evening sun, of a loaded ice cream cone, of not worrying. “Can I tell you something.” you already knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn´t going to say anything serious. “Always.” “I don´t even know Ferdinand. This is the first time I noticed him. We´re basically strangers. Hell, I don´t even know if his name is Ferdinand.” Your stomach already hurt from laughter while you held your hand in front of your mouth, trying not to laugh out loud again. “Jihoon, you are so silly.” “Oh, I know sweetie, I know.” he smiled knowingly, almost cocky as he leaned back into his chair and locked his arms behind the back of his head. You were still laughing but you had no choice but being You stunned over how easily he could go from being the sweetest and cutest human being to making you blush like crazy. It was simply not fair.

“So tell me, how was your day?” he came to your rescue. He was still smiling, enjoying the effect he had on you. When you started talking, it took you a few sentences to gain back your confidence and certainty in your voice. Your conversation was light and easy but not at all shallow. He listened to you attentively and even asked for details, you seriously felt like you were telling him the most exciting and fascinating stories he has ever heard. Maybe you really were living in a romantic movie now because he honestly was making you feel like you were the most important girl on earth right now. You only were interrupted by the waiter who quickly took your order. Talking to Jihoon felt so familiar while at the same time not. You did have the feeling of having known him for years, but you also felt like you didn´t know anything about this boy sitting in front of you. Both in a good way. He made you comfortable and curious. And because people who have a crush are blind to some things you wondered if he was feeling the same way about you.

When the waiter had dropped off the two plates of food in front of you, and you both had just taken your first bite, neither of you had to say anything. You even closed your eyes briefly and let out a short sigh. The food really was that good.

“It tastes like heaven, doesn´t it?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “It really does. How have I never been here, I´ve been missing out on this for so long.” You sighed dramatically which made him grin. “Thank god you met me, huh?” Your gazes met, and although his remark had definitely contained a hint of cockiness, he now looked at you, as gently as if you were the most beautiful, most delicate thing he had ever seen in his life. Looking into his eyes, your heart skipped a beat, and even though you were flustered, you could simply not turn your eyes away. Because, yes, he was right, you were really happy you had met him. “Thank you so much for showing me this place. Seriously.” You finally said, your voice way too hushed to sound confident. “You´re very welcome, Y/N. I´m happy you´re here with me.”

You quickly fell back into a conversation about music. You absolutely loved listening to him talk about his passion. He got so excited talking about his work and when you mentioned that he finally had to show you some of his work, he even got a little shy. As fellow artist you understood the insecurity that came with showing other people personal works. Nothing was more relatable to you than the fear of not being able to convey to other people what you had tried so hard to express through your art, or the fear people wouldn´t even understand your kind of expression. But you also knew that any kind of art is always, in a way, a portrait of the artist himself. And when you were looking at Jihoon, listened to the way he talked, you already knew that his music was going to be just so goddamn beautiful.

The minutes you had spent talking to him had disappeared like the wind carries away seeds from a dandelion clock. The time had gone by so quickly, you hadn´t even realized that the two of you had been talking for over two hours. When the waiter came with your bill, you wanted to grab your wallet, because fuck gender roles but Jihoon was faster. You looked at him aghast, ready to tell him he really should´ve let you pay. The words already on your lips, Jihoon didn´t even let you start “I know, I know”, he held his hands up defensively “You wanted to pay and I´m sorry, well actually I´m not…” he laughed. “You didn´t even give me the time to look at the bill!” you were smiling now too but you still tried to keep your tone at least somewhat serious. “I´m sorry, sweetie.” He took your hand “What if I just let you pay next time?” You felt like the floor had been pulled from under your feet (and you were still sitting on your chair). He really wanted to see you again. You weren´t completely oblivious (only a bit) and you knew the date had been going well, but hearing him say those words was a totally different story. You nodded; he was still smiling at you. “Yes, I can live with that.” Your voice was a bit shaky. “Deal.” He was still holding your hand over the table, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

He shortly looked down before posing his question “Ok so the thing is, I really enjoyed this and I kinda wanna keep talking to you so, do you wanna go for a walk?” And fuck you really really really really wanted to. Like REALLY. But the thought of your portrait assignment made you hesitate. You knew you still had so much work to do, hell you probably had to redo everything you drew yesterday. “I…” you started when he cut you off. “You don´t have to, Y/N. I don´t want to pressure you into anything.” he smiled softly but you could see a tiny bit of disappointment changing his features, he must´ve noticed you were a bit hesitant to answer him.

“No! I´d really love to. I love talking to you too. But I should go home to work on an assignment. It´s due on Wednesday and I´m kinda panicking because I haven´t even really started yet.” You looked down at the table where your hands were intervened. “Oh I get it. What´s the assignment?” “Basically I just need to draw a portrait of someone but I really really want it to be good. I started drawing my mom yesterday but I don´t like it. I think I don´t have enough good photos to draw her realistically and I´m not that great at drawing from memory.” “So you basically need someone to model for you.” You laughed softly, “I guess so.” “Why don´t you draw me then?” he winked at you. You blinked. Once, twice. Had he actually winked at you?? This man was going to be the death of you. Your eyes slightly widened, a blush was creeping up your neck again “You´re kidding.” “I am. Unless…” he was grinning from ear to hear. He really was enjoying your embarrassment way too much. “Also I´d say my face is pretty.” If he wasn´t holding your hand you would´ve tried hiding your face but that wasn´t an option now. “It is.” You stammered. “Did you just call me pretty?” he smirked. That was the last straw. You couldn´t take it anymore. You pulled your hand out of his grasp and hid your blushing face. “Maybe.” “I see. But I do think your face is even prettier.” He chuckled. You looked at him, that goddamn cocky grin on his slips. He knew what he was doing. Gathering all your left confidence you replied, “I can´t draw myself though.” “That´s why you should be drawing me.” “Wait, are you actually being serious?” “I´m not not serious.” He was still grinning but you could hear the earnestness in his voice. “I don´t even know what to say…” “Just say: yes Jihoon I´d love to draw your pretty face and I´ll even make your eyes a bit bigger so you´ll be even prettier than in real life.” You momentarily forgot about your heart beating this fast and your still cherry red face. You loved his eyes and how they disappeared whenever he was smiling. “What? No! Your eyes are perfect just the way they are.” “I appreciate the compliment, sweetie.” He smiled warmly at you. “But I really think we should go now, you still have to draw my portrait today.” You giggled. “I didn´t even agree yet!” He was getting up from his chair “Oh come on,” as soon as you were standing up too he reached for your hand again, “no one would turn down an offer like this.” “Jihoon, you are so full of yourself.” you laughed heartily. He over dramatically clutched his heart with his free hand. “Ow, don´t hurt me like that Y/N when I´m just trying to trick you into spending more time with me.” His blatant honesty made you speechless. You just looked at him and if you weren´t completely mistaken a tiny bit of red was covering his cheeks now too. “Fine. I´ll draw you.” “I am disproportionately delighted to hear that.” You giggled at his choice of words while squeezing his hand a bit tighter. And then the two of you were walking to your apartment, side by side, hand in hand, wearing matching grins.

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen ff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #kpop ff #rhubarbbabywrites

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years

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pairing; v x anne

authors; @sunshinejihyun & @cafedanslanuit

words; 50k slowburn 1.7k

playlist; available here

notes; happy birthday anne! thank you for being a great friend. with all our love, bryn & allie <3

“Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways”. ~Oscar Wilde

Being an artist without being able to see color was something that proved difficult on its own, but combining that with searching for your soulmate at any given turn just to be able to see color was even more difficult. Jihyun Kim was the only person in his advanced art class in his sophomore year of college who couldn’t see color.

“Jihyun, I know the color theory doesn’t apply to you right now, but you may want to pay attention for when it does.” His teacher’s stern voice had pulled his head from his sketchbook and he nodded his apology. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t care, Jihyun had no idea, but she continued her lecture and Jihyun tried his best to show he was paying attention, though his fingers were working to quickly sketch something new before the idea left his brain.

Most people like Jihyun, people who hadn’t met their soulmate yet, focused on drawing and painting in either black and white or grayscale, but not Jihyun. No, he had a fascination with color and it didn’t matter if he could see it or not, he wanted to portray that fascination in his painting. Besides, what does it matter if he can’t see color? Every color looks good together; they have to, why else would colors be so important in everyday life? A lot of people have described what colors go with emotions, so Jihyun tends to go with that when he paints. Emotions are funny things, especially when they’re used to show emotions.

As time in the class was diminishing, Jihyun’s professor made his way towards him and he quickly slammed his sketchbook shut as she cleared her throat. “There’s going to be an art showcase tonight and I have to select a student from each of my classes to have art on display. I want to display some of your work. The color choices are… unique and I think your story would be well perceived.” Jihyun nodded his head and the teacher gestured towards his canvases he spent the last semester creating. “Go ahead and choose three pieces of yours for me.”

He spent his time choosing. There was one that he particularly liked that he had named Envy. The colors of it were green and red, or so he was told, and it described his feelings of being one of the last people he knew to meet his soulmate. He painted this after Jumin had met his. Her name is Allie and she was sweet, kind, and as Jumin described, all the best things in the world combined. It wasn’t that Jihyun was jealous of Jumin for having her, he was jealous because he wanted a person to call his own too.

The next one was based on sorrow; it was all blues and oranges and it expressed Jihyun’s feelings of losing his mom. How he wished they had more time, how he wished he hugged her and told her he loved her when he had the chance.

The third one he decided on was one that he depicted what he thought was love. It was all reds, pinks, and purples. This one was drawn based off of how other people described love: passionate, sweet, and filled with happiness. Flowers, hearts and delicate swirls were the main focus in this piece. This was his favorite, it showed everything he longed for and everything that he would someday have to himself. It showed more than love, it was filled with hope.

“Those are some of your best works, very good choices.” At the professor’s words, Jihyun’s heart swelled with pride.

“Thank you, professor, I will see you tonight.” Jihyun promised and he quickly exited the room, biting back a smile at the thought of his art being showcased to anyone who could walk in.

It was one of those days.

The kind of days where there wasn’t anything really wrong happening, but you just need the day to change. The sky was always grey -had been for as long as they could remember-, but it felt extremely colourless as they made their way to the Engineering and Architecture building. They had a test the next week and figured it was as good a day as any to try and get some reading done.

The walk to the buildings was just like any of the other times, listening to music while getting lost in their thoughts as they crossed campus. It wasn’t really cold, but most people were wearing scarfs and there weren’t as many people as usual walking around. That helped a big part in Anne being able to notice the small poster on one of the buildings she walked past.

Curiosity made her stop in her tracks and come closer to the poster.

It was announcing an art showcase happening in a close building. It was supposed to be an important one, by the way the poster had highlighted the ‘carefully selected students only’.

Anne pursed their lips, pondering their choices for a moment. They looked at the sky one more time, its dullness giving the last bit of motivation she needed to change directions and go to the Art building.

There weren’t as many people as they pictured, which was good, knowing they wouldn’t have to accidentally bump into anyone as they went over the art pieces. Appreciating art was a challenge when you couldn’t recognize any of the colours the artist used, but the different hues of grey were usually a big help. It couldn’t be that different from actually seeing the colours, right?

A few of Anne’s friends had already found their soulmates and would go on for days about their newly discovered ability, and while they were happy their friends had found their soulmate, they couldn’t help but wonder when would it be their time. Maybe it was bound to happen in college, maybe it would happen at their first job, or during their weekly shopping trip. Anne tried not to put too much thought into it, but the art collection she was admiring at the moment made her daydream about that moment one more time.

Someone who would get them. Someone who would find the perfect balance between acceptance and encouragement to become their best self. Someone who would evoke a laugh on the chilliest days and would be a key element to the special type of quiet that was a great element to blissful weekend mornings.

As Anne kept walking around, they spotted a young couple. The woman was petite and thin, long and wavy hair falling to her waist and the sweetest smile Anne had ever seen. The young man was facing the other way, broad shoulders and probably one of the tallest people they had ever seen. The young woman kept talking to him as she pointed to one of the paintings, the man just nodding and scratching the back of his head.

Before they could notice anything else, Anne’s phone buzzed, forcing her to take it out their pocket and look at it. It was an email from a professor which, considering an assignment for his class was due the next day, it was probably urgent. Anne kept walking as they clicked on the notification to read the whole email.

They had read only the first words of the email when they crashed against someone, their arms and phone crashing against their chest.

“Sorry! Sorry, I wasn’t looking. Didn’t mean to--” Anne started as they looked up to the person they had just bumped into just to find a beautiful set of mint eyes looking back.

“I’m so sorry I--” Jihyun cut himself off as his world exploded into color. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Rika was still chatting away, not even noticing that Jihyun had stopped in his tracks a few paces back, his eyes locked on the person standing in front of him. “I’m Jihyun.”

The person in front of him - no, his soulmate blinked once before they shot him a bright smile. “Anne, nice to meet you.”

“So, soulmates, huh?” Jihyun scratched the back of his head, something he always did when nervous.

Anne nodded and behind Jihyun, a painting caught their eye. “Is this yours?” Jihyun turned toward where they were gesturing and cringed as his eyes met some of his artwork.

“Yeah… I liked it much more in black and white. I guess my professor was right, I should have paid more attention when they taught color theory.”

It was a bad joke, a really bad one, in Jihyun’s mind but Anne must have thought it was funny because they laughed, which caused Jihyun to laugh because he just couldn’t believe that he was standing next to his soulmate and they were laughing together. It was something out of his dreams.

“Jihyun,” an annoyed voice brought him back to reality and he met eyes with Rika’s green ones. “I was talking to you and you just disappeared.”

“Oh, Rika, my apologies. This is Anne, my soulmate.” Rika blinked once before her eyes filled with tears threatening to spill and she plastered on a fake smile.

“Soulmate? I just… I thought--” Rika shook her head and smiled sadly at the both of them. “Nevermind what I thought. I’m happy for you, both of you.” With one last glance at Jihyun, Rika walked away and while the thought that Rika could be hurting upset him, he knew that right here, with Anne, was where he was supposed to be.

Sometimes, days were still grey. And dull.

But as Anne felt Jihyun putting his scarf around their neck to protect them against the chilly weather, they thought maybe it was fine after all.

It was the hues of grey in everything that made the colours of his soul shine even brighter.

#mystic messenger #jihyun kim #mysme v #mm v #v x anne-- we're both in charge of the ship #ahhHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

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sweetdonutwolf · 4 years

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R6S How You Met (SPETSNAZ)

I tried my best writing these staying as true to their characters as possible. This is for the Spetsnaz operators onlyKapkan, Tachanka, Glaz and Fuze

Warnings: Hunting and killing of animals, death of an animal. Very mild and I mean MILD smut in the form a quick kiss

Y/n= Your name

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Spetsnaz

Kapkan:

While out hunting you spotted a deer, it was a nice big buck, a 10 point by the looks of it.You pulled back on your bow steadying your aim. Letting the arrow go you watched as it headed for the target. A gunshot rung out in the distance, startled you looked away from the deer for a moment, it must have been another hunter close by. You headed towards the buck now dead on the ground.

As you walked over another figure appeared, a man walked up to the buck and started to pick it up.

“Hands off my deer dude” You were stern with your voice.

“Your deer?” The man had a just as stern voice.

“The deer with the arrow sticking out of its side, yeah its mine.” You flipped the animal over revealing the broken arrow sticking out from its heart. “See”

“You see this?” He turned the deer back over pushing its leg forward. He looked up at you, a bullet wound was clearly visible. “I got the shot off first therefor it’s my kill” he began picking the deer up. “Now I’ll take my deer and be on my way, better luck next time.”

“Wait lets talk about this.” It was a decent sized 10 point buck, the biggest you’ve ever shot and you weren’t going to let it go that easily.

You guys began going over proof as to why it was your kill arguing back and fourth. After about 30 minutes of trying to figure it and not knowing who actually shot it first you guys decided to talk it over at a local bar.

At the bar you and him completely got side tracked with other conversations laughing your asses of completely forgetting about the damn deer, which by the way was in the back of his truck.

“So you’re telling me that you hid so well during hide and seek as a kid that they called search and rescue on you?” You began laughing.

“ It was a proud moment from my childhood” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Even search and rescue couldn’t find me till I came back out and greeted them.”

You raised your glass up. “That’s impressive, it explains your hunting skills”

“What about you how did you get so good at hunting?” He put his glass back down.

You looked him dead in the eye. “I hunted down all my Ex’s who wronged me.” You tried not to smile when you saw his expression change. You gave him a quick nudge on the shoulder laughing. “I’m kidding of course”.

“ I thought so” He looked relieved as if he actually believed you. “Plus with your hunting skill I’m surprised they haven’t found any bodies”. He gave you a nudge back.

“Ha-ha very funny but probably true”.You both had a little laugh.

The night went on and after another round of drinks he drunkenly gave you the buck saying it was gift to you for being so beautiful. You blushed which made him smile.

You guys had to be kicked out of the bar once it closed, neither one of you wanted to leave, you haven’t had this much for a while. Before parting ways he helped you haul it into your truck and you gave him your number as a thank you after all you guys seem to hit it off pretty well.

You fumbled for your keys and you soon realized none of you were in the condition to drive.

You both called a cab and with very good persuasion he got your cab driver to agree to you letting the dead buck in the car with you as long as you kept it covered of course.

“I had a very fun time, I never got your name though.” He asked as he kindly opened the cab door for you.

“Oh right, it’s y/n” you sat down in the cab and looked up at him. “And yours?”

“Maxim Basuda” He held his hand out.

“Nice to meet you Maxim, thank you for the wonderful time.” Your hand met his and you gave it a friendly shake.” Next time I’ll teach you the proper way to hunt”. You let a little smile appear on your face.

“And I’ll teach the proper way to wrap a dead deer” He smiled and pointed to the dead animal next you in the car with its hoof hanging out.

You let out a little laugh. “Deal, goodnight Maxim, we’ll have to do this again soon”

“Till next time” He gently closed the door and the cab pulled away.

You went home that night feeling happier than you have in ages. Who knew from an argument that so much laughter could follow. Maxim called you the next day and planned your next outing together.

Tachanka:

Sitting at the reception desk bored out of your mind you checked the schedule for today, it was fully booked. The door opened looking up the man caught you eye almost immediately. A big burly looking man came towering in, his presence alone shifted the feel of the room for you. You sat at the reception desk not knowing you were staring at him as he approached. He waved his hand in front of your face.

“Are you blind?” he continued to wave his hand in front of you. “Deaf too i see.”

“I’m so sorry, I---I was just lost in thought sir, how can I help you?”. You perked back up embarrassed by what just happened.

“I have an appointment for Alexsandr Senaviev, it’s for 11:30″ He let out a grin. You realized you were blushing and now thinking about it made you blush even more.

You quickly checked for his appointment, your cheeks still flushed from before. What was this man doing to you? You have only known him for less than 5 seconds and he’s already made you all flustered.

“I’m sorry, What time was the appointment?” You realized you got lost in your own thoughts thinking about him. His charm was something else you thought.

“So you are deaf” He said back in a joking tone. “It’s for 11:30″.

You finally confirmed his appointment and asked him if he could wait in the waiting room.

You kept telling yourself not to stare but you found yourself looking up at him on more than one occasion. Luckily you never caught eyes with him. You just couldn’t get over this gut feeling you had about him, he held himself so confidently. He was a big man after all but you felt a gentleness to him like underneath his rugged exterior was a soft hearted man and that kept drawing you closer to him and made you even more curious.

He finally got called back after what seemed like for ever. He walked by you and you looked at him once more. His eyes meet yours, you began to feel your cheeks go red again and quickly looked away. You were in love. I can’t be you kept telling yourself, it was foolish to feel this way about a stranger.

About an hour passed and Alexsandr came walking back out and stopped at your desk for a brief moment.

“We already have your next appointments planned out for the next couple of months sir” You looked up at him.

“I wanted to give you my number” He slid you a piece of paper.

“W-We already have that Sir” confusion filled your voice.

“I know but this one is my personal number” A grin grew on his face again making you blush for who knows how many times in a row now.”I’d like to take you out for dinner sometime, if that’s okay.”

“I-I-----” You were at a loss for words.

“ I’ll take that as a yes then.” He left the paper on your desk and began to turn around to leave.

“Yes!” You don’t even know where that word came from, you just said it without even thinking. “I’d love to”. You began to smile as well.

Alexsandr gave you a nod and headed out the building. Of course you watched him till the last second.

Your whole work day from then was spent daydreaming about the perfect date you’d have with him. You went home that night with butterflies in your stomach anxiously waiting for him to reach out to you.

You guys went on your first date a week later. It was better than you expected way better, you had a feeling he was with his boisterous humor and booming laugh. You guys hit it off right away as if you were old friends and the rest is history.

Glaz:

Wondering the exhibits of the art museum always had a way of calming you. You felt connected to the pieces as if each one would take you to a whole different world, each piece had a painter and each painter had a story to tell through their work.

You finally reached the last room where your favorite painting hung alone in the back. Often overlooked, the painting of a lone bird perch on a tree branch spoke to you more than any other painting did. You stood looking at the delicately painted bird thinking how he resembled you in a way, all alone with people right next to you and in his case birds flying high in the background.

You felt the birds pain of being left behind by others, you were always a loner people judged you for being different and teased you for always having you face buried in an art book. You stood there taking in all the detail of the painting every brush stroke had a purpose, it was almost like a story to you. Each stroke added a new part and you couldn’t see the full story for what it was till the painting was finished and the last brush stroke was painted.

.Losing track of time you quickly checked your phone for the time not realizing how late it had gotten.

“Damn it.” You said under your breath.You had a date in less than 20 minutes at the other end of town and there was almost no way you’d make it on time.You had to rush out of there. As you took a step back you bumped right into someone, the impact making you fall back a bit, your bag fell to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I can be a klutz sometimes.” You said embarrassed about the whole situation. You looked at the man and noticed a scar on his left eye.

“You’re okay, it’s no big deal.” He had a rich Russian accent to his voice it was almost scary in a way.

“I really didn’t see you there.” You brushed your hair away from your face as you went to retrieve your bag from the ground. Before you even crouched all the way down he reached down and picked it up and handing it back to you.

”No harm done.” He held out the bag and you took it from his grasp.

“Thank you” You began hurrying out the building.

The date went horribly. It wasn’t because you were five minutes late, that didn’t bother them at all. It was the fact that you spoke about art too much apparently. You weren’t surprised though everyone lost interest the moment you starting talking about it. They all gave you the typical glazed over look as they nodded randomly as if they had any interest at all.

This date was worse though. They ridiculed you for liking something so mundane saying you must be wrong in the head if you believed they talked to you. You had to hold back tears before you decided to get up and storm off.

Furious and heartbroken yet again you went back to the one place that brought you some comfort, the art museum.

You wondered back to your favorite painting tears began to gather in your eyes. You kept thinking you were unlovable and that no one would love you for who you are. You sat down on the bench in front of the painting and stared at the little blue bird who you related to so much.

“You’re a lot like me little bird” You whispered under breath, a tear began to roll down your cheek. You quickly whipped it away.

“Rough night?” You knew that voice, looking up you saw the man you had bumped into earlier.

“You can say that.” You whipped away the rest of your tears as he sat down beside you.

“I’m Timur by they way”.

“ Y/n”. You replied back

“This is my favorite painting too” He pointed at the little bird painting. “ I like it because all though the bird is alone he’s the star of the show, everyone takes notice to him first.” He began pointing to the flock of birds painted above. “Those guys are noticed last, they’re painted too similar to each other that they almost just fade away all together.”

You sat there taking in his words for a moment, the two of you just sat there and took in the work. It was nice hearing someone talk about art the way you did it was a rare encounter to experience it seemed.

“I always saw him as lonely” You turned towards the man. “But now i see it, if everyone was the same like the birds leaving the other one the world would be boring, there wouldn’t be art with its own story to tell like this one.” He looked at you. “I mean that’s not a world I’d want to live in.” You noticed you were rambling on again like you did on your date. “I’m sorry, I can get kinda side tracked with this stuff, you don’t have to sit here listen to me ramble on” You locked eyes.

“I find it very interesting actually, it’s funny how things can represent and be seen in so many different lights”. He looked back at the painting.

You guys continued to talk about it before he asked you if you’d like to go around the museum with him. Gladly accepting his invite you spent the next couple of hours walking around talking about the other art works you felt connected to.

The sky grew darker and the museum was about to close. You started growing tired. Noticing this may be his only chance Timur asked for your number. You gladly gave to him planning out your next outing together in the process.

Fuze:

Your friend Eliza always tried to set you up with men before all of which never worked out in the long run. You wanted a guy who could stay level headed in any situation, one that knew what they wanted in a relation ship instead of beating around the bush for it.

Eliza reassured you that this time she got the perfect guy for you. You felt like an idiot for ever agreeing to it in the first place. Another night of torture and complete bullshit conversations, you thought to yourself as you got your last shoe on. It was supposed to be casual but you did add a little extra with a nice necklace that your grandmother gave you. It was a dainty little diamond necklace that your grandfather bought before they moved out of Russia.

Arriving at the restaurant you could see Shuhrat through the window already seated. You had to do a double check at your phone to make sure you weren’t late. Just as you thought you were right on time as you walked through the door. Eliza had exchanged photos of you two prior to meeting so you knew what each other looked like.

Seeing you Shuhrat stood up and pulled out your chair. Water was already at the table, you saw it as a kind gesture.

“ Thank you” You sat down across from him. “ I hope I didn’t make you wait to long you must have gotten here really early.”

He took a seat. “It’s how I make sure who ever I meet is timely, if so it shows they’re serious about it all, I do like my partner serious.” He gave you a little smile.

“And I like men who know exactly what they want from a relationship” you returned a smile.

“Looks like its already working out, Eliza may have finally gotten it right for once.” He took a sip of his water.”She told me how she failed in the past on numerous occasions and that I couldn’t fuck this one up either, and as far as I can say I hope I don’t fuck it up either.”

“I won’t blame you if it doesn’t don’t worry, Eliza on the other hand won’t hear the end of it.” You laughed, Shuhrat joined in with you letting out a chuckle.

The waiter came by and you ordered your food. Shuhrat order some fancy Fish dish that you couldn’t pronounce and you ordered the steak. You guys continued talking about what you looked for in a partner and a relationship. You enjoyed getting it all out of they way so you both could see if you were on the same page.

“I have to say it’s a breath of fresh air to meet someone so sure of themselves as you are, and I don’t mean that in a bad way.” His voice was smooth with a lick of a Russian accent.

“I just like skipping the bullshit that’s all.” You took another sip of your water.”I don’t like wasting my time on someone for it not to work out in the end.”He nodded in agreement.

The food arrived and you guys finally moved on to other conversations. He talked about his time in the Spetsnaz, well as much as he could legally tell. He told his stories with so much passion. You could feel yourself falling for him. You guys continued to eat discussing various topics from the best movie ever made, which you guys had a civilized argument about, to what your future plans were. He told you that with his line of work he was never guaranteed that he’d make it back alive, his work was risky and he made sure you knew that.

“Everything we do is risky, I could choke on this last bite of steak and die right here.” You put the last bite in your mouth. “ See i just took a risk.” He laughed securing that he enjoyed dark humor which was another plus in your book.

He gazed at your neck “That’s a very nice necklace, it suits you nicely.”

“Thank you.” You began twirling it around in your fingers.”My grandpa got if for my grandma before the moved”.

“So you have some Russian blood?” He smirked picking up his glass.”Just when I thought i couldn’t like you anymore.”

You blushed. It looks like you cracked his hard outer shell Eliza was talking about after all. Speaking of you knew she’d never let this down, the fact that you finally had a good time on one of her set up dates was going up there with her personal list of accomplishments.

You two sat a bit longer after finishing your meals this time you were talking about your memories of Russia from when you were a kid. Shuhrat finally had to go he had some training in the morning he couldn’t miss.

“I had a really great night, Thank you y/n”. He pulled your chair out once you stood up. “I can’t remember a time where I talked so freely to someone in a long time.” A smile was plastered on his face.

“Same to you, I’m not looking forwards to hearing Eliza brag about us though.” You laughed, together you two made your way outside. Shuhrat walked you to your car and opened the door for you, a true gentleman you thought. Before you got in your car you looked up at him and went in for a kiss. Shuhrat seems surprised at first but changed his mind quickly and kissed back.

“Till next time.” You left his lips lingering for more and got into your car.”

Shuhrat gave you a final wave goodbye before turning before his car. You made it home and instantly got a call from Eliza asking how it went. Tired though you fell asleep on the phone mid call.

#rainbow six siege #siege #rainbowsix #imagine #r6s

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charmandhex · 4 years

Note

For the kiss meme, 41. Forbidden kiss please!

Hi Foxy! So, listen, brief explanation since this is now super late. I actually started working on this over last weekend, but it was a working weekend so yeah, finishing it didn’t happen. And while I initially wanted to write Taakitz for you, I kept coming back to Hurloane.

*spongebob narrator voice* Four days later:

Anyway, over the course of the week I also came up with an idea for a Taakitz ficlet around this prompt, but I’d also already written most of the Hurloane one so now you get two because I am very late and I’ll tag you in the Taakitz one!

Hurley is in trouble. Capital T Trouble. Capital T italicized Trouble.

And what’s worse is it’s her own damn fault too.

She hadn’t meant for this to happen; it sure as shit hadn’t been on her five-year plan for career and life advancement. But she’d always loved battlewagon racing, always been more curious than was strictly speaking healthy for her, and then a certain file for a certain master criminal had been unceremoniously flung on her desk after the previous five detectives assigned to the case had fucked it up.

She should have stopped, should have pumped the brakes somewhere along the way. But when Sloane was riding beside her, whistling and cheering and laughing as they’d sped toward the finish line, just as reckless and wild and free as Hurley herself had felt during each and every one of their battlewagon races…

Well, figuratively and literally, Hurley had floored it.

But this is different. As much as teaming up with a notorious expert thief and participating in (and winning) illegal battlewagon races may not have been Hurley’s best idea, this is something else altogether.

Hurley wants to kiss Sloane.

They’ve spent months flirting! Shit, Sloane had been a master at flirting with her even as she’d been flying through Goldcliff with Hurley in pursuit. And they’ve spent almost as much time getting to know each other, learning to work seamlessly as a team during races and talking late into the night about anything and everything as they made improvements to the battlewagons.

And Sloane is so… beautiful. Beautiful, with dark brown skin scattered with freckles like stars, even darker brown eyes capable of holding a warmth that seems reserved for Hurley alone, and black hair that flows so smoothly as to put the surrounding river to shame.

And she’s kind, far kinder than the persona she puts on for thievery. But she is that too, confident and brash and sure of herself, agile and light on her feet whether running from militia or launching herself through the air onto a nearby battlewagon. She’s smart and quick-witted and funny- even if her jokes are terrible sometimes. Hurley laughs anyway.

Shit. Hurley is in Trouble.

“Something on your mind, beautiful?”

Sloane’s teasing question breaks through Hurley’s daydream, and Hurley blinks. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring instead of working as her mind had wandered off again with thoughts of how Sloane’s lips might feel on hers, how she might taste-

“Uh- um. Shit. No! Nothing at all!” Hurley shakes her head frantically, as much to answer as to shake off the persistent, not so quiet thoughts.

“Hm.” Sloane purses her lips into a perfect pout. Hurley nearly has to use a ki point to tear her own eyes back up to Sloane’s gorgeous brown ones. “You, Hurley-” and Sloane leans forward to gently tap Hurley on the nose, “-have been distracted all day.”

“I have not!” Hurley says indignantly. And knowing full well she’s lying.

“Hmmmm,” Sloane hums again, this time seeming to savor the sound before her lips spread into a familiar wicked smile. “So, if you’re not distracted… is that why you nearly put radiator fluid in the oil fill port earlier?”

Hurley goes bright red. “That- that- that was just because… that’s a new model! It doesn’t look the same as the others!”

Sloane sighs, looking to the side and drawing a curtain of hair over one shoulder. “Hurley. And I thought we were friends, that we were getting close and could be honest with each other, but if you don’t feel that way-”

“It’s because I want to kiss you!” Hurley nearly yells, the sound filling the garage, no way to reclaim the words and stuff them back down now. Sloane’s lovely brown eyes go wide, and the teasing smile on her lips vanishes. “Shit! We’ve been flirting for months! And you’re… you’re wonderful, so how could I not? But I can’t kiss you! But I also can’t stop thinking about it! Shit!” Hurley buries her face in her hands, waiting for whatever rejection is coming her way, having surely crossed a line, having read too much into Sloane’s flirting, having fallen in love with Sloane as well as racing as Sloane had jokingly promised she would…

“Why can’t you kiss me?” Sloane’s voice is quiet and even and entirely not what Hurley expected. It gets Hurley to raise her face and look at Sloane. Her eyes are intent, and there’s just a trace of pink in her cheeks. Is Sloane… is Sloane blushing? “Hurley, why can’t you kiss me?”

Hurley lets out a long sigh. “You’re a thief. I’m in the militia. Your file takes up a whole filing cabinet. And I’m the detective in charge of it,” she says wearily, looking away. “We shouldn’t even be partners. Let alone… it’s a bad idea.”

“Horseshit.” Sloane’s response is blunt, sharp. “We’re great partners. We’re a team the like of which Goldcliff racing has never seen. And… who cares if it’s a bad idea? Who cares if you’re militia and I steal things? Yeah, damn right I steal: I’ll steal your heart, Hurls, because I want to kiss you!”

Sloane wants to kiss her, too. Sloane wants to kiss her, too. Elation fills Hurley for a moment, light and airy and warm, lifting her from the inside out. And then Hurley nearly buckles, crumpling in on herself and scrunching her shoulders as reality slams back in, knocking the joy from her as surely as a fall from the battlewagon could knock the breath from her lungs.

“And if they find out?” Hurley lets the question hang in the air for a moment. “If I get fired or… or worse, you get arrested and go to jail?”

Sloane’s jaw has the same determined set it takes on at the starting line. “Hurley, do you remember what I told you before your very first race?”

Hurley frowns, thinking back. “Try not to fall off the battlewagon?”

“No! Not that! The other thing!”

“Try not to get punched in the face?”

“Not that one either!”

“Uh… focus on the race?”

“Yes. Focus on the race, not the finish line. You can plan ahead for what that final sprint looks like, but you have to get past the start line and the initial shitshow first.”

“Are you saying we’re a shitshow?”

“No!” Sloane slaps a hand to her face. “I’m saying that I want you to cross the start line and kiss me already!”

There are a multitude of things Hurley could consider and has considered. Maybe even should consider again.

Instead, Hurley kisses Sloane.

“Best decision ever.”

“You sure? Maybe we should try again, just to be sure.”

And they do.

#taz #taz balance #taz fic #taz fanfic #hurloane #asks #ask game #charm works #i did not forget i was just exhausted from work and i feel bad about that so i just kept writing both #halcyonhowl

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fics-not-tragedies · 4 years

Text

In a Week: Chapter 18 🌲

I think this is the most funny chapter I’ve ever written in my entire life and I think it’s the only one fully funny and sweet in this piece of fanfiction.

Words: 2122; Warnings: none; Summary: Chilling in a hot tub with Flo Andrew decides to make a little fun of them both.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight; @angelpeachamber; @sgt-morgan; @julessbrown;

Tuesday, 5:25pm

“You reminded me that I should send my Mum some flowers” he declared.

Flo smiled.

“Do you get on with her?”

“My Mum? Yes, we’re quite close…” he considered his next words, approached them with caution then decided to say them anyway, despite the potential damage they could cause, “And she’d like you, Flo. She’d really like you…”

He tried to picture it, allowed himself the daydream as she smiled back at him softly. In a different world, back home. Bringing Flo to meet his parents knowing he was so sure of her. She’d be worrying about what dress she was wearing, would worry she overdone it with the flowers and the dessert she spent all week practicing, but his Mum would love it, bring her in for one of her killer hugs straight away. Dad would give her the same, would want to know all about her instantly, would love her stories about their adventures. Andrew was sure she’d tell it all better than he could anyway.

“Is your Mum a control freak like me then?” Flo sighed, frustrated by the lack of reality in the conversation now. As incredible as it was to imagine it all, being the girl he decided he wanted to bring home, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in it, for too long it was too cruel.

“Hmm… maybe a little…” he nodded, still beaming from the vision he’d created for himself, “And you were right about the flowers… I just finished another tour, em, that’s why I’m here for the week.”

Flo thought about asking what he was planning to do next, but part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to be subconsciously tracking his every move. What if she’d turn up to one of his gigs in the future, if there still was one for her, bustle her way to front row, get pushed against the barriers by the huge crowd, nod her head to the tracks she knew, hope he’d make his way down to the front and spot her. But what if he didn’t look at her in the same soft way he did now? What if there was someone else waiting for him at the side of the stage? Or worse yet, what if he’d ignored her or didn’t even recognize her?

No, she decided. It’d be better not to know, to avoid it as much as she could.

“Do you like performing?” She asked instead.

“Well, yes. I feel like I’m only myself on stage, but, em, it’s really exciting when I see all those faces screaming my words back at me. Is fantastic. Sometimes they know them better than I do.”

“Must be overwhelming in front of all those people” she shuddered and added: “I’d hate it.”

Andrew chuckled in delight at her wittiness, preparing himself for the next question he could already see twitching in her smile.

“Got a pre-show ritual? Couple of prostitutes? A bottle of absinthe?”

“Not quite” he mumbled, “We’d fancy a goat slaughter, but no venue can pull that off. We only do a small chant…”

“Slaughtering a goat sounds quite eccentric…” she teased and he screwed his nose up at her.

Tuesday, 5:30pm

There was a sudden, loud click at the door and both Andrew and Flo turned their heads towards the sound, so accustomed to being alone with each other. Another couple entered the small room in their bathing suits, both smiling until they realized it was partly occupied. She was tall and thin, had a pointy nose and dark eyes and he was shorter, a little rounder in the middle, had a face that looked permanently unamused. From the way they were clinging onto each other, they were clearly on some kind of romantic getaway. Though Flo couldn’t draw much from them straight away, the disappointment on their faces was stark. They were clearly unhappy to find another ‘couple’ in the tub, but were far too British to simply walk back out.

“Sorry, mind if we…” the woman began, “… join you…”

Flo turned her gaze to Andrew and watched him smile up at the couple just as a bright, brilliant idea, so clear on his face, occurred to him.

“It’s alright” he drawled then turned back to Flo, “We can get cozier with Hozier, can’t we, love?”

After a moment of speechlessness, her body rigid, questioning what the correct response was, Flo shot Andrew a glare like she hadn’t before.

Bastard.

She couldn’t deny that the opportunity excited her a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be near to him or ‘get cozier with Hozier’, rather that she knew she would have trouble resisting the temptation again with him that close to her. He looked so good and she caught onto his distinctive scent as he shifted around to make room for her. She clearly had no choice.

With an awkward shuffle she moved through the middle of the jacuzzi and sat down next to Andrew, instantly aware of him pressed close to her and how much she hated the outfit she was wearing. Not waiting for long, the couple sunk into the tub opposite them and there was an awkward stare off for a while, the four of them nodding awkwardly back and forth.

“Nice hotel, right?” Andrew said at last, cutting through the looming silence. He couldn’t resist chatting with them a little.

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely” the woman replied, her partner doing his best to relax and ignore them, his eyes closed.

Then, without warning, Andrew’s arm snaked around Flo’s body and he cupped her waist tightly with his hand. His fingertips pressed into the skin there and she almost squealed. Even under the water, his touch overwhelmed her and she felt drawn into him again, like she hadn’t learned a single thing from the last time. Despite it all, despite his face inches from hers, his neck adjacent to her lips, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her face was deeply flushed with embarrassment, though if anyone would have asked, she’d have blamed it on the heat. It took everything she had not to react and to play along with his game as best she could.

“We’re celebrating our fifteen year anniversary this week aren’t we, honeybee?…”

Flo stared blankly ahead, couldn’t believe he was really doing this, but then again of course she could. Honeybee? When she didn’t respond he gave her waist a quick squeeze and she moaned quietly to herself before muttering a quick “mhmmmm” out loud.

The couple were clearly uninterested, didn’t care about her response, probably hadn’t even noticed the strange body language of the couple in front of them but Andrew was persistent. “We were childhood sweethearts” he proclaimed. He was showing no signs of stopping, only just able to hide how badly he wanted to laugh. His face twitched as he fought the urge, “Stole my heart right after the first round of ‘spin the bottle’, haven’t you, honeybee?”

“Awh, that’s lovely” the woman cooed, though she was mostly engrossed on the massive glittering rock on her finger, “We just got engaged” she announced, just to better Andrew’s tale, as if the wafting and waving of her hand in the last minute or so hadn’t made that clear.

“Oh, congratulations!” Flo chimed, though she could barely focus. Andrew’s fingers began to draw lazy circles into her skin. It could have soothed her in the right time and place, but right now, with so much of her exposed, with the ridiculous game he was playing, with the stupid look on his face she could catch from the corner of her eye all because he was winning, it was too much.

“Thank you!” The woman chimed, settling against her partner.

A few minutes passed, and though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Andrew was struggling too. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He couldn’t focus properly either, especially when Flo pressed herself into his side, rolled her knee up against his, moved her thigh against his just to make things more difficult for him.

“You staying here for long?” The man asked, clearly agitated by how competitive Andrew was with their fake relationship. Flo questioned whether he was asking about how long they’d be staying at the hotel or merely in the tub, desperate for peace and quiet.

“No, no. Got the kids waiting for us at home…” when neither of them responded, it just fueled him further: “Yes, little Jackie and Wilson. And he’s only three, bet he’s missing his Mummy, eh?” Another squeeze of her waist.

“Ahh, that’s lovely” the woman replied, though her responses were becoming more and more repetitive.

When the next silence came, Flo shook her head at him in constant disbelief, too dumbstruck to even come back at him with something as a challenge. Her hand suddenly on his knee made him jump, but he was still holding the happy couple facade together. With little fight from her, his own hand wandered down to her thigh. Aware of her heart beat and the wideness of his eyes, she was shaking, holding on to her control with everything she had and she turned to him in exasperation.

The quick movement of her head knocked a strand of hair into her eyes and without even questioning it, not part of his plan at all, Andrew moved it from her face with his free hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear. His touch was so delicate that she stared at him for longer than she should have and he stared right back at her. She watched him inhale deeply, his lips parting again as the breath left him.

“My little cinnamon bun…” he mumbled almost incoherently, barely blinking, “…we should go. I’m wrinkling like a prune in here…”

Flo could tell Andrew was struggling too, knew that they had to break apart now before it all came crashing down again and she took the opportunity to shimmy out of his touch and stand, forgetting the need to cover her body like she had before.

“Nice to meet you…” she mumbled to the couple, before darting out of the door, her legs like jelly, barely able to hold herself up. Behind her, Andrew said a goodbye Flo couldn’t hear then he quickly caught up to her.

Tuesday, 5:45pm

Surrounded by the noise of the pool water splashing and the cheerful chatter of the guests around them, they walked a couple of steps together in silence, strolling past the still water. Flo tried to gather her thoughts, tried to think of something to say. She was frustrated in more ways than one and needed him to know that. Her heart still pounding in her chest she suddenly turned to him, a clear intention in her eyes. Andrew was already laughing.

“Are you fucking for real?” Flo said, raising her voice as much as she was comfortable with, her teeth gritted.

“You bet I am, babe” he giggled, mocking his innocence.

“Don’t ‘babe’’ me, Andrew…” she warned, her finger jabbing him in the chest and he pouted back at her. “Oh god I could fucking…” she stopped moving, stomped her foot on the ground in frustration.

“Don’t swear, love” Andrew giggled, tears forming in his eyes at the hilarity. “It’s a fucking bad habit. What if the kids heard you?”

“Jackie and Wilson?” Flo grunted. “You have some nerve, Andrew…”

“It was funny, love…”

There it was again, love, each letter dragged out mercilessly.

Flo couldn’t take it anymore. She felt something snap inside of her and without processing it fully, she pushed Andrew backwards with all her strength towards the pool. Her hand met his chest and though he was excited at first, that wild flash of promise so clear, he soon lost his control. She wasn’t stronger than him but the element of surprise aided her and she watched as he shuffled over the edge and fell backwards, flailing pathetically until he hit the water.

Flo panicked for a split second, but Andrew resurfaced with some coughing and spluttering, his eyes trying to find Flo again. His hair was in his face, mouth agape, his eyes wide with shock.

And at that sight, Flo was satisfied, smiling and bending down slightly as she spoke to him.

“I’ll be in reception” she stated, then turned on her heel walking away from him. She made sure to wiggle her hips so that he had the perfect view of her overexposed ass as she left him and even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew the exact powerful smirk she was wearing.

Okay, Andrew decided, he deserved it.

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