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skyeet-the-writer · 3 years ago

Text

backwoods to beaches (rooster x female!reader)

1 — Piano-Playing Pilots

ever since i watched top gun 2 i've been obsessed with miles teller. like obsessed like it's embarrassing. so, to deal with my problem, ive written and entire ass essay as seen below you. and there will be more. much more coming towards yall

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x female!reader

summary: as a girl from georgia, california is a big change. but working at a bar gives you a perfectly good reason to oogle at piano-playing pilots on a late night

word count: ~5.8k

warnings: some swearing, alcohol (obv), suggestive mentions, hardcore flirting around the end

notes: if you couldn’t tell by the title or the summary, reader is from georgia and down south so there will be a lot of mentions/references to this. i myself am from western ky, but if i’ve gotten anything wrong or aren’t portraying it correctly, lmk how to fix it! other than that, enjoy y’all. x.

insp by @heartsofminds fic “blooming”

playlist:

That first summer as a bartender was rough. California was a lot hotter than you thought it would be, and by the time the night was over and the rush of military men and women had thinned, you were covered in sweat.

California was also not as pretty as you had made it up to be in your head. There were a lot fewer trees than you would have preferred. But there were beaches.

Back from where you came from, everything was pretty to you. Rolling hills, fields full of wildflowers. Beautiful sunrises and even more stunning sunsets. Acres upon acres of forests, with dirt trails dusty and worn from generations of four-wheeling and ATVing. Miles of farmland that were always ready when harvest comes around. Creeks clear as glass and ponds full of almost every kind of fish one could think of. Everything you had grown up with and around was absolutely gorgeous to you.

California had her fair shares of beauty. But not as many as back home.

When you and your best friend graduated college, you two wanted a change of scenery. And so, when her uncle called her and invited her to live with her, she accepted and took you with her. It was hard, watching that small town you had lived in all your life fade in the rearview mirror, but at the time, it was what you wanted.

Your friend's uncle was in the navy and he lived in Miramar. Also called "Fightertown, USA". You quickly figured out why when a jet flew over your head as you two exited the car upon your arrival at your new home.

You and your friend smiled at each other, excited to have a fresh start.

To complete the absolute teenage dream, the two of you got a job at the same bar, the Hard Deck. It was just a few minutes away, a perfect fit for your friend, who always happened to be late to everything. Not to mention that it paid pretty well, had tips, and was also run by a woman.

But on your second week, you realized how much of a nightmare it could be. The naval men and women always came in, talking loudly, and began to laugh louder after a few drinks. But somehow, it reminded you of home. That's why you lasted longer than your friend did.

You found joy in your stressful job. The owner, Penny, often called you into work during the weekend, the busiest time. You began to recognize people's faces and remember their names, even remembered a few orders as the weeks went by.

When the summer came to an end, you had become some of the patron's favorites. Some were familiar with your accent and you found friendships in those ones, asking what part of Georgia, Louisana, or Carolina they were from and smiling at stories you could relate to.

Another year passed and the next summer, you became even better at your job. When you first started, you were a nervous, shy little girl from Georgia who had trouble remembering things but was still so sweet. Suddenly, you became this young lady with a thick accent and an even thicker skull. The girl who used to blush and twirl her hair at any man who flirted with her to a woman who would simply shake her head at another young boy just vying for attention.

Tonight, the bar is hopping. Penny, who, despite being your boss, is one of your closest friends/motherly figures, is busy chatting it up with some older guy who doesn't look over the age of thirty. You didn't catch his name, far too busy with the customers Penny should be dealing with. But you don't mind. You don't know a whole lot about Miss Penny's personal life, but something tells you that there was once something between her and the older man.

"Could I get another beer, Miss L/N?" asks Cooper, a regular from last year.

"Of course, Coop," you tell the man, taking his glass from him. "What was it, Bud Light?"

He nods. "You got it. Say, how come you always rememberin' all these orders. I couldn't ever do that."

With a smile, you refill his glass and place it back to him with a new napkin under it. "Ain't you a flight operator?" you tease with a raised brow.

Cooper smiles and laughs. "Yeah, that's true." He lifts his glass to his lips.

You tap the bar in front of him and move to another patron next to him. "Besides, you come in here often enough for me to remember." You turn to the woman in front of you. "You had a whiskey on the rocks, right, darling?"

The lady nods and suddenly there's a loud ringing of a bell from nearby. The bar erupts into cheers and you spot Penny's date with his head in his hands and Penny with a triumphant smirk.

"Looks like this one's on the house," you tell the woman, topping her glass off before sliding it back towards her.

Humming to yourself, you mentally prepare for the next round of drinks on the man. It was bar rules that if anyone insulted a woman, they had to buy the entire bar a round. It sure was fun to watch their smirk vanish from their face. You've rung that bell a few times yourself and watched the color drain from the man flirting with you fade from his face almost as quick as the smug smirk.

"Hey, pretty lady!" comes a familiar voice that makes you smile. Jake Seresin, A.K.A. "Hangman", approaches the bar, grinning. "Can I get four beers on the old man?"

With a simple nod and a smile, you reach to the fridge below the bar and pull out four beers, two in each hand before handing them to Hangman.

"How's your evenin' been, Jake?" you ask him, taking just a moment to have a small conversation.

The man grins and says, "Pretty good. You?"

"Had three guys ask for my number," you reply, grinning. "Threatened to ring the bell on 'em if they didn't cut it out."

Jake groans. "You shoulda done it anyway! Would've saved me a lot of money." With a laugh, he walks off, likely to his friends. You've been watching them play pool all evening and you can hear their banter even from over here.

As the night wears on, you quickly begin to wear out. Bartending is an exhausting practice, mixing drink after drink and refilling or restocking. Thankfully, most people only get beers. Those are your favorite kinds of people, the ones where you can just hand them something and have them be on their way.

Eventually, your best friend, Dixie, comes in, instantly claiming her usual seat at the bar close to the door. You smile when she walks in and she races to steal one of the few open barstools before someone else can claim it.

Dixie doesn't drink, which is odd considering how often she comes in to bother you. You place a bowl of chips in front of her and sparkling water and wipe your hands down.

"Y'all are busy, huh?" she asks, crunching on one of the bar's chips. "Look at all these hunks, Y/N."

With a roll of your eyes, you remember why she comes in so often. She loves to oogle at the military boys that filled the majority of the bar. She always had a thing for military men. That was one of the few things you didn't have in common: despite living in a military town, none of the men seemed to do it for you. Most of them were too cocky, too bold, their egos too big. You never preferred those kinds of boys.

Dixie on the other hand? They were her favorite. You remembered her bringing a couple of them back home your first few months. Those were the nights you sat out in the back screened-in porch watching some movie or show with your earbuds at max volume.

"Dixie, you know I can't stand them," you tell her with a smile and a shake of your head. "Their egos are way too big."

"Wanna know what else is big?" asks Dixie, wiggling her eyebrows. You give her a look of disgust and she laughs.

"I'm telling your momma next time we head home," you threaten, pointing at her.

She laughs again. "We both know you won't, Y/N."

With another roll of your eyes, you head towards another patron waving you down. "What can I help you with, darlin'?"

"Can I get a few shots of tequila, please?" asks the man.

You nod. "Sure thing. Three okay?"

"Yeah, that works."

With a bright smile, you say, "Alrighty!" and get to work. Picking three shot glasses out, you fill them to the brim with tequila. You also put some salt on a plate with a few wedges of lime and pass it to the man. "You got it all?"

He nods, carrying the shots in one hand and the plate with the rest of the fixings in the other. He thanks you before walking off back towards a table.

With a glance to the door, your heart almost stops. You know he's a fighter pilot. He's not wearing a flight suit or a uniform or anything. No, he's just in a white beater with a faded Hawaiian shirt and aviator glasses. But there's something about him that you just know is the epitome of a fighter pilot. You've met enough of them in the year that you've lived in Fightertown, you're confident you can spot one from a mile away.

For a naval pilot, though, there's something different about him. Maybe it's the way he's standing, slightly slouched and not fully upright like so many of the other ones do. Maybe it's the way he's biting the bottom of his lip like he's nervous. Or maybe it's the way he somehow exudes a vibe of...chill. An aura of calmness and relaxation that you can feel from over here.

You watch him spot a group back near the pool table and watch him walk up to them, where Jake is laughing with his fellow pilots. You watch Jake stand up and raise a brow. Does he puff his chest out?

"As I live and breathe," you hear him say with a smirk evident.

The other man, who appears to be the same height as Jake, says nothing. He just shakes his head, pushes his shades up, and leans on the table.

You wonder why he's wearing sunglasses in an already dark bar.

However, you’re quickly snapped out of your fantasy when you see someone else waving you down. With a small blush you hope is mostly invisible in the dim light, you walk over, apologizing.

All throughout the night, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of that pilot. You have no idea what his name is and you’ve never seen him before in your life. But there’s just something about him that makes you yearn. Your eyes yearn to him while you pour another drink and you almost spill a few times, much to the amusement of Penny.

Eventually, you spot Penny's date counting his cash and cards, trying to find a way to pay off his debt. Then he smiles sheepishly, holds his hands up, and the next thing you know, Penny is yelling out, "Overboard, overboard!"

Hangman and a few other airmen who happened to be around the bar grab the man, each having a limb. You've seen this happen plenty of times, and it still makes you laugh, watching another man get thrown out of the bar because he couldn't pay his debt.

It was never anything mean, just playfulness. That's what the bar was. It was playful, it was friendly. It was a place for naval men and women alike to come after a hard day's work of...whatever they did and get a drink and play a game of pool or darts with a friend. It was one of the many things that reminded you of home.

During a short time when things calm down, you lean next to her where she’s chatting with Dixie. “Hey, Pen. Who’s that guy over there by the pool table?”

She looks in your direction and tilts her head. “Y/N, there’s no one over there.”

With a frown, you see that there isn’t anyone over there indeed. Scanning the bar, you search for him. “W…where’d he go?”

Suddenly, the music from the jukebox comes to an abrupt stop and there are cries of dismay and a few curses. But the single note on a piano has you whipping your head in that direction.

That same man is sitting there at the piano, his friends gathered around him. You tilt your head and lean your forearms on the counter, watching as he plays a few notes you almost recognize.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will. But what a thrill."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!" sings nearly the entire bar, voices blending together perfectly.

You laugh as the pilot continues the song that you now recognize as a song by Jerry Lee Lewis. It's one of your favorites, you remember your grandfather playing it on the record machine he refused to give up.

"I laughed at love cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey. I change my mind. This love is fine."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

A soft, manicured hand grabs your own and pulls you to the bar. Dixie is smiling, mouth open, and singing along with the rest of the bar. "Kiss me, baby!" She presses a long, exaggerated kiss to your hand and you laugh loudly.

"Mmmm, it feels good!" you sing, grabbing both of her hands as she stands. It's difficult to dance together across a bar, but you make it work. "Hold me, baby!" You bring Dixie up to the edge of the bar and give her an awkward type of hug.

"I wanna love you like a lover should!" she sings with you, cheeks pressed together. "You're fine. So kind!" she pulls away and grabs your shoulders as you wiggle them, sending the two of you side to side, grinning and laughing. "Imma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

You push her away as she picks up an empty beer bottle and uses it as a microphone. That's what you've always loved about Dixie, how she was always so confident in herself.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I get nervous but it sure is fun! Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

You laugh and stop singing for the piano solo. You take a second to look at the man playing said piano. He makes it look so easy. He's smiling, surrounded by his friends, and you can't see his fingers, but you're sure they making a blur across the keys. His friends howl and holler at him, Fanboy thumps a hand on the wooden instrument. You notice that his sunglasses have slid down as he slides his fingers down the piano, creating a glissando. He smiles at his friends turned fans, clearly enjoying the attention.

You bounce to the music, continuing to watch Dixie attempt to copy what the pilot is doing. She's failing, quite terribly, but she doesn't seem to care.

"Kiss me, baby! Woo, that feels good. Hold me, baby! I wanna love you like a lover should."

You yourself get lost in the music, leaning across to also sing into the empty beer bottle with Dixie, almost like a duet. Your eyes are closed and your cheeks are red, maybe from the heat, maybe from the excitement.

What you don't spot, however, is the gaze that the piano-playing pilot gives you while he sings. He spots you halfway across the bar, how can he not? Hell, he can even hear your voice from over here. There's some kind of drawl to it, one he hasn't quite heard. But your singing is good, almost as good as his. Your friend's voice, not so much, but you don't seem to care, singing along and bouncing your head, a bar towel in one hand.

He finds himself smiling before looking down at the keys, making sure his fingers are in the right spot, even though he knows that they are.

"Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

The song finishes off with a few final notes and the bar erupts in cheers and howls, quickly turning to a chant.

"Rooster, Rooster, Rooster, Rooster!"

You tilt your head, clapping as Dixie joins the chant, holding a fist up. That can't be his real name, surely. Perhaps a callsign, like Hangman. Still, you somehow think it’s fitting for a man like him.

The pilot, Rooster, stands and does a cheesy dance. He lifts his arms and moves his hips awkwardly and you laugh at how utterly stupid it looks. You're not sure if you imagine it, but you think that this Rooster character looks directly at you and winks.

But you must be imagining it because the next moment he's leaning back and throwing his arms back before standing up straighter as the chants become faster. You laugh and even begin chanting yourself as he pumps a leg up, exclaiming. He pushes his glasses up with one hand, beer bottle in the other, before looking around the bar and smiling.

The chants die down and after a few minutes, someone plugs the jukebox back in and some song by Elton John begins to play again.

Dixie sits back down, pushing her hair out of her face. "Man, I love this town."

You nod in agreement and move to hand out a couple more beers.

A little after 2 a.m., the bar begins to empty out. You stopped selling alcohol twenty minutes ago and most patrons had left an hour before that. 5 a.m. wake-up call was the next day and you couldn't imagine it being easy. Most days you didn't wake up until after 9.

You and Penny are both closing up together. Dixie had left a long time ago with some young pilot, again. You sighed and rolled your eyes, watching her be all blushy and giggly as he pulled her out of the bar, pretending like it was her first time.

"I swear," you say to Penny, sweeping. "I'm gonna be an aunt one'a these days if she keeps this up."

Penny laughs, continuing to wipe down the bar. "You think so?"

"I know so!" you exclaim, pausing at your area by the pool table. "You should hear her. At least once a week, she brings one of those boys by and they keep at it all night long. That girl has stamina!"

Penny laughs again, loud, like she always does. She covers her mouth with her hand, waving a hand to get you to stop. “I believe you, I believe you!”

With a shrug, you get back to sweeping. “I just hope that they’re done by the time I head back.”

Your boss and friend just laughs and you sense her shaking her head. Silence fills the bar again, the quiet songs on the jukebox providing the only background music. You spot a bottle cap hidden under a table and reach down to pick it up, tossing it in a nearby trash can.

Suddenly, you hear Penny curse and turn your head towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“Amelia just texted,” she answers, setting the rag down to use both hands on her phone. “Says she’s throwing up and has a headache…”

You frown. “Aw, poor girl. Hey, you go on home, take care of her. I can finish closin’ up here.”

She looks at you, head tilted and brows furrowed. “You’re sure?”

You nod, grinning at her. “Of course! I’ve closed up enough. ‘Sides, we’re almost done.”

Penny nods and quickly walks out from behind the bar, giving you a quick hug. “Thank you so much.”

You hug her back. “‘Course.” While she heads to the back to grab her things, you finish sweeping, putting all of the dirt into a dustpan and emptying it before tying up the trash, prepping it to be thrown away after you lock up.

Penny comes back through, jacket over one arm and purse in the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

With a nod, you add before she leaves, “Get her some ginger ale! Works better than Sprite. For me, at least.”

The woman nods and thanks you before leaving. Soon, you hear her car start up and pull out of the gravel parking lot.

You’re alone. For the first time all day, you’re alone and it feels great. With a little smile, you head toward the jukebox, wanting a particular song. Finally, you see it and clap your hands a little before selecting it.

"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene," you sing with Dolly, making your way to the bar to grab the rag and wipe down everything one more time. "I'm begging you, please don't take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can."

The guitar and the drums give you a nice beat to move to, and you find yourself walking in step with the music. Years of learning to dance in elementary school and dancing at weddings really paid off.

Dolly Parton has always been one of your favorite female artists. She was your first real introduction to music when your Meemaw played her while baking your cookies. It was one of your earliest memories, one you've always cherished since her passing.

"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain. And I cannot compete with you, Jolene."

You wipe down the tables again. You've had a habit to wipe them down right before you leave, so you can make sure you've gotten everything. You reach the area by the pool tables and rearrange them, putting the pool sticks back in their correct spots and making a neat triangle in the center of the pool tables.

The door opens, and though you can't see who walked in, you know it's not Penny. Thinking it's someone who doesn't realize you're closed, you shout, "Sorry, y'all, we're closed! We're open at five tomorrow!"

Footsteps on the wooden floor echo through the mostly quiet bar. A voice calls out, "Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I think I lost my wallet."

You pause, hands resting on the furry green pool table. That voice. It's familiar yet not. You tilt your head and turn the corner to see whoever it is.

It's him. The piano player from hours ago. Rooster.

And I can easily understand how you can easily take my man. But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene

With a smile, you put on that bright, southern charm that comes so easily and so naturally. "Oh, for sure. I don't believe me or Penny have seen a wallet, but what's it look like?" You tilt your head. "I'll help you look."

He's not wearing his sunglasses anymore, they're hanging from the collar of his white shirt. His eyes look you up and down but from this distance, you can't quite see what color they are. Still, you can see the way his cheeks warm and how he clears his throat. "Thanks," is all that he says. His voice isn't quite deep, but something about it sends your heart thumping.

"What's it look like?" you ask again, heading to the bar to double-check the box that's been dubbed a lost-and-found. Basically, it was where you and Penny dumped things that had been found and not claimed yet. There were a few wallets, but those ones had been there for weeks. There were a few pairs of glasses, both reading and sunglasses. A couple of cards that Penny was waiting to cut up and even the random shoe. You had found that one, and you and Penny spent twenty minutes arguing about who could walk out while missing a shoe.

Rooster meets you at the bar, leaning his forearms on the surface. You take the box out and place it next to him. You definitely don't linger on how damn strong his arms look and how tanned they are.

"It's dark brown," Rooster explains, sifting through the box. "Got my initials stamped on it. It's thick as shit, I throw everything in it."

With a light smile, you ask, "What's your initials?"

"B.B.," he answers.

With a click of your tongue, you walk out from across the bar to search the booths and tables. You didn't run across it during your sweep or wipedown, but you could've missed it. "Those stand for somethin' other than Rooster?"

You hear him chuckle and it sends a jolt down your spine. "They stand for Bradley Bradshaw."

"Oh." You smile, putting up the chairs as you search. "See, that makes more sense."

He laughs this time. Suddenly it stops and he asks, "What the fuck is a shoe doing in here?"

With a snort, you turn to him from across the room. He's holding up said shoe, an old and beat-up white Nike Air Force 1. It's been there for a week, and you and Penny hadn't bothered to throw it away.

You answer him with an innocent smile and a shrug. "No idea. Penny found it last week, under a table. Asked her what we should do with it, she just threw it in the box."

Rooster chuckles and throws it back in. "It's not in here."

You lift another chair up and flip it over, placing it on the table. You give the man a look and say, "Help me find it then, princess."

He gives you a teasing smile and asks, "Princess?"

With a cheeky grin, you give him no reply and continue to look. You've always been a tease, ever since college. Your friends always told you how a classmate had gotten a crush on you just by one look. Whenever you met someone cute in a bar or at a party, you would give them a look, flirt with them for a few minutes, and then disappear. It wasn't something you really did on purpose (at least not all of the time), it was just something that happened.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don’t take him even though you can. Jolene, Jolene.

For the next several minutes, you and Rooster look for his wallet. You stack all of the chairs up and he searches between the booths and around on the floor.

You search near the piano, running a finger along the keys. This piano is incredibly out of tune and old as dirt, but when he played, it sounded brand new.

“Where’d you learn to play?” you ask, turning to see him by the dart board.

He meets your gaze and something in his eyes change. There’s a flash of sadness behind those hazels. You can see his eye color now, and it reminds you of acorns in early October mornings.

“My mom taught me,” he answers.

The jukebox clicks and the song changes. A Johnny Lee song plays, his voice nostalgic and comforting.

Well, I spent a lifetime lookin' for you. Single bars and good time lovers were never true. Playing a fool's game, hopin' to win. And tellin' those sweet lies and losin' again.

You smile, sweetly. “That’s sweet.”

He nods, glancing at the floor. “Yeah. Apparently my dad knew how to play and she wanted to teach me.”

“We’re y’all close?” you ask, wiping a stripe of dirt off of the instrument. It’s thinner than you thought it would’ve been.

Something in the atmosphere shifts and you look up at Rooster. He’s staring at the green dart in his hands, turning it between his fingers. His brows are furrowed and are his shoulders shaking?

“Bradley?” you ask softly, tenderly.

His head snaps up to you and he quickly says, “Call me Rooster.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause everyone else does.”

Biting your lip, you tell him, “I ain’t everyone.”

I'll bless the day I discover another heart, lookin' for love.

Finally, his face breaks into a grin, his mustache making his smile look ever better. “You know, you’ve got a pretty way of speaking.”

“Yeah?” You walk towards him, hands clasped behind your back. “What about it do ya like?”

He throws the dart at the board and it lands in the inner circle. Then he turns to face you, walking towards you. “I like the way you hold your vowels out. And how you shorten words that don’t need to be shortened.”

You smile. Many people on this side of the states have complimented your accent. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But something about it coming from him, Bradley, made it feel different. He was a pilot. An attractive one at that. Tall, blonde, dark and lean. That pornstash your mother always found sexy on Tom Selleck you now found sexy on him. The way he’d lick his lips, always getting the bottom of it wet. Your mind went to the gutter and you wondered how scratchy it would feel somewhere else.

"Where are you from?" he asks, walking closer.

"Georgia," you answer. "Small town named Pearson, it's right by Savannah."

He nods, finally stopping in front of you. He's tall and he looks down at you with a small smile. You're not so close that you're practically touching, but you're close enough to smell him. And you note that he smells like the ocean and sweat and beer. Somehow, all of those scents at once make you weak in the knees.

"How long have you been in Fightertown?"

"Little over a year."

"Have you, uh, met anyone in that year?"

With a smirk, you say, "Nah," and lift up the wallet you found under the piano bench. "Fighter pilots just don't do it for me."

Bradley's face twists into a smile of sorts and he takes the initialed wallet from your head. "What makes you think I'm a pilot?"

Walking away from him, you say over your shoulder, "Call it a hunch."

Lookin' for traces of what I'm dreaming of, hoping to find a friend and a lover. I'll bless the day I discover another heart lookin' for love.

Your nerves are on fire and you can barely feel your legs. But you still keep walking even though you know his eyes are on you. You're nearly done closing up. You just need to take the trash out and turn the lights off before locking the doors.

Part of you is excited you're closing up. It's past two in the morning, you woke up before eight and you're absolutely exhausted. You smell like beer and other various alcoholic beverages. You want to take a shower and pass out for the next nine hours.

But another part of you is upset because you know your conversation with Bradley is coming to a close.

"Do you live here?" asks Bradley, eyes following you as you take the trash up and tie it at the top. "Or are you just visiting?" He goes to the jukebox and turns it off, sensing that you're nearly done.

"I live here," you answer with a nod. "Come on, I want to go home." There's a pile of mostly empty trash bags by the door that Penny was kind enough to put there for you to grab on the way out and you move to them after grabbing your purse and your phone charger that was in the back. "Hey, don't you got early wake-up call?" You make your way towards the door, sure you look awkward carrying four garbage bags over your shoulder. Still, Bradley says nothing while you shut the lights off in descending order before walking out the door.

"Yeah," Bradley admits, holding the door open for you. He even takes the keys from your hands and locks up the doors to the bar for you.

"Thank ya," you say, breathing a sigh of relief at the warm ocean breeze that greets your face. The air smells salty and slightly fishy, but you've never wanted to smell anything more. "Well, what are you doing here still, then?"

He slowly follows you towards the dumpster at the far corner of the parking lot. Normally, you'd be nervous outside at night, but tonight, you're not by yourself. You've got a big, strong navy man to protect you. Not like you'd need it.

"I needed my wallet," he says, honestly. Then he adds, the grin in his voice audible, "Plus I'd never pass the chance to talk to a pretty lady."

"Oh, you're quite charming!" you call, tossing the bags in the dumpster, thankful trash day is tomorrow. Wiping your hands on your shorts, you make your way back to your car, noticing that he parked next to you. "You must make all the ladies swoon."

He scoffs and throws the keys across his car back to you. You catch them in your fist and dangle them around your middle finger. "Maybe. Not enough to keep them, that is."

You tilt your head, heart thumping fast and face flushed from all of this flirting. "Shame. You seem like a catch." Throwing him a grin, you open the door of your old, beat-up truck your father gifted to you the moment you turned fifteen. "Go to sleep, Bradley!" you call, starting the vehicle up.

He smiles, watching you. "Yes, ma'am."

With a small shake of your head, you turn the volume of your radio up just a bit. Some random Miranda Lambert song is playing and you back your truck up, throwing an arm over the seat to watch where you're going. When you're far enough back to clear Bradley's tailgate, you crank the wheel to the right, gravel crunching under the tires.

Bradley is in his car, but you still smile at where he was and tear out of the empty parking lot into the even emptier streets. Taking a left, you head home, exhaustion finally catching up. Your eyelids grow heavy and you yawn. Still, you don't miss the bright red taillights of Bradley's car taking off in the opposite direction of you.

With a satisfied and triumphant whoop, you beat your hands on the top of the steering wheel. Your heart is racing and suddenly your exhaustion vanishes as you recall the last twenty minutes.

Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster. What a character. Piano player, singer, flirt, yet still kind and charming. Chivalrous, almost. You have no idea how long he'll even be in Fightertown. Most people stay for a few weeks until eventually being deployed elsewhere.

You hope that he'll stop at the bar every night and lose his wallet again.

#top gun 2 #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #x reader #rooster x reader #southern!reader #rooster x southern!reader #rooster x female!reader #originalwork #Spotify

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astroluvr · 3 years ago

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a/n: okay, so sorry, but i accidentally posted this earlier when it was not even nearly done. the request was protective jack, so i hope this is okay! i also wrote it a little teensy bit different than i actually intended to, but i thought this was a different, and perhaps interesting, approach to it that i hope everyone enjoys!

it's a lil best friends to lovers vibe and the first time ive ever written something like this, so please have grace LAMDODKSNBF

ANYWAY, i hope yall enjoy and remember my requests r open!

-------------

you and jack had entered his apartment that was buzzing with the sheer excitement of a saturday night in. the lights were still bright overhead and his tv displayed an 'are you still watching' message. it only made the fact that he rushed to come get you that much more obvious.

you'd called him cold and wet after the restaurant your friends invited you out to had closed after the three of them left. you were hardly dressed for the dreary weather since you expected to only be going from the car to restaurant, so you wore a brand new black dress that went to the middle of your thigh with spaghetti straps and little wedges. jack had yet to say a word to you since he slid his black sweatshirt over your head when you were chattering on a bench underneath a neon 'closed' sign.

"are you mad at me, jack?" you asked quietly, taking your shoes off by the door as he started to wander around his home.

"yes." he mumbled and you cocked your head before rolling your eyes.

"oh, come on. it was an honest mistake. they were just a little drunk and-"

"no, y/n, they get off on picking on you because it takes them back to their glory days of fucking with girls who kept to themselves."

"okay, but are you mad at me?" you asked again, making eye contact with him as he started to dump things in the trash, a surefire sign he was upset.

"am i mad at you? no. am i mad that a night in watching those damn chick flicks you like wasn't good enough? yes. am i mad you've gone and gotten a cold? yes. am i mad that those damn girls got to laugh at you for the fourth time this month? yes. i am absolutely pissed that people take advantage of you and you act like it's one big joke when they do it."

you stood with your arms crossed in the heavy oversized fabric of his sweatshirt. he stopped what he was doing to look at you full on, finding a sad expression on your face.

"y/n, i didn't mean to hurt your feelings. i just hate watching other people treat you like that when you don't fucking deserve it. i just wish i was enough for you. i know it's not fair to expect you to not have other friends, but i just want you all to myself and i know it's crazy to think that way, but fuck, you do it to me." he said, face screwing in emotion.

"can i be honest?" you raised your eyebrows and jack nodded as if he expected you to be anything but with him. "i only started hanging with those girls because it got too much to be around you. every fucking time i spend a night like this with you, this funny feeling comes around that makes me feel like I'm losing my shit. is it crazy to want you to always be there for me even after i fuck up?"

"no, because i always want to be there when you fuck up." he whispered, getting closer to you as he walked around the island. "or maybe it's crazy for me to want to be your only and it's crazy for you to want me the way you do. maybe we're just crazy for each other."

you smiled at the cheesy phrasing and cupped his cheeks, bringing him down to your lips and feeling the rough hair on his face contrast to the way his lips were soft against yours. you couldn't help but smile when he finally pulled back and looked at you.

"you've been waiting for that, haven't you?"

"all i thought about while i was sitting on that bench." you shrugged and jack chuckled.

"please don't ever do some shit like that again. you've got me now."

"i know, i know." you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

jack chuckled before enveloping his lips with yours, sealing the beginning of the end.

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #best friends to lovers #proud of myself for this one actually!#fan fiction

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straighttohellbuddy · 2 years ago

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🌈💞💝

YO GENUINELY THANK YOU THIS WAS SO SO GOOD TO ANSWER!! seriously felt v cathartic. I love this ask game a lot, it's got a lot of really great questions !!

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

I tend to think I talk too much about my fics as it is, and I've talked about my struggles with my fics as I've been struggling through them, or in hindsight, you know?

So this may be a bit of an unconventional answer, but I'm gonna talk about a fic I haven't spoken about in probably over a year, and still haven't properly published; my Vilbur/Villain!Reader fic, what you love you devour. I'm struggling to write it because I'm overwhelmed with the timeline and how much I want to include, not because of the themes I want to tackle and that I'll tell you about in just a second, I'd just like to make that clear.

But yeah, a few months into writing the fic, I don't remember exactly when, but my understanding of the reader's narrative just kind of... Clicked. I don't know how else to describe it; I'd been writing the fic well enough until that time, but there was a moment where I finally understood it, light the clouds had shifted and I could see the light.

Because it's a story of addiction. Not in the traditional sense, there's no kinds of substance abuse in the fic, but I myself am a recovering addict, and viewing the reader as being in recovery when the story begins, with the things she used to rely on as a kind of coping mechanism (lying and pointless cruelty, among other things) being in her past, but her still being judged for the way she used to be despite making it clear that she was putting in the effort to change, it turns the entire story into a tragedy as it develops further.

To be fair, it's probably mostly just for me at this point, like if you're not familiar with the kind of rhetoric and stuff you hear while in recovery, the reader's feelings and instincts and the like probably won't even clock as an addiction storyline, but it is. Albeit in amongst this incredibly dark, sensationalized, tragic love affair I'm brewing. Or it will be if I could ever publish it.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

I know it's such a cop out answer, but it really varies from fic to fic, and even then it depends on where I am at in writing the fic. I think, and I know its a bit vague, the most important part for me at any given moment is the sensation. Whether that be trying to perfectly capture a moment from a characters perspective, so you know exactly what they're seeing and hearing and thinking and feeling. Or maybe I'm trying to impart a kind of blurry, almost whirlwind as time rushes past and things change all around you as you're caught in this happy rush.

Like I reread too much time together (Corpse) some time ago and I thought for a moment, 'this kind of takes its time' but I wasnt mad about it, and it occured to me that for that fic, it's meant to feel like that, to linger on the little details, the tiny moments, the intricacies of daily life and domesticity; this fic is meant to be as relaxed and as comfortable as home, it's 21k, it's like a warm bath, take your time experiencing this life I've written for you. ❤️

An excerpt to kind of demonstrate what I mean by that

yeah, so I guess the most important thing to me is the sensation of a fic. I have a very specific vision in my head for each fic usually, and I want to try and impart that sensation/experience onto my audience. Sometimes that prioritises world building, sometimes it's the character and their relationships, sometimes it's the prose itself, it depends on whatever I think is the best way to impart the sensation/experience Ive envisioned.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

I sometimes tend to judge a fics popularity based on, for lack of a better phrase, the quality of audience response, which is to say that pretty best friends (Dream) which I posted on the same day as his face reveal, did better numbers just because of the timing, and I do think it goes pretty alright, but it doesn't get a lot of comments. That wasn't the unexpected one. I posted to show you the stars (and win your heart) (Wilbur) a day before, and while it didn't do as well numerically, I was surprised by the incredibly loving comments the fic recieved?? Like reading it back I'm very pleased with it, but I've been kind of inconsistent with posting, so to have people apparently love it so much?? I was and still am so touched and pleased. I love that fic. And it means so much to me that people still love my work xx

#your local homosexual with no chill

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d-criss-news · 4 years ago

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The Glee star and Emmy winner for The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Darren Criss, 34, will be releasing his first album of Christmas songs, titled A Very Darren Crissmas (October 8). It includes duets with Adam Lambert, Evan Rachel Wood and an original song, “Drunk on Christmas,” featuring Lainey Wilson.

What was your goal with this Christmas album?

To reintroduce familiar songs in a new way. But I also wanted to take lesser-known songs and make those feel more familiar. And, most importantly, I wanted to take songs that people don’t associate with Christmas but I do—like Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”—and try to make them feel like Christmas songs.

What inspired you to write “Drunk on Christmas”?

It’s about the end of Christmas when everything’s been done. There’s wrapping on the floor, you’ve cleaned things, the in-laws have left and there’s nothing else to do. It’s two people having a sit-on-the couch moment, sipping a glass of cocoa with some SoCo [Southern Comfort] in it.

What is it about Christmas music? Why did you want to do the Christmas album?

Christmas or the holiday season is something that, whether we like it or not, we experience every year, and that comes with a litany of wonderful songs and music that again, whether you have been proactive about listening to it or not, it’s pretty hard to avoid. It’s permeated our cultural consciousness for our entire lives. So if you happen to be someone like me who consumes music at a hyperactive level, I’ve always adored Christmas music.

People say this because of the way that it makes them feel and the things that it reminds them of. There are so many layers to why people enjoy Christmas music. It’s nostalgic, it is very romantic, at least in the true dictionary meaning of the word romantic. And to me, I’ve always loved it for a much more anthropological reason, which is for one month or several weeks out of the year we suddenly subscribe to a certain sentiment that the other 11 we don’t really dial into. We want it all, then we want it to just go away.

What makes Christmas songs different?

As a musician I’ve always loved that Christmas music can employ certain musical elements that otherwise aren’t very popular. To me, it’s incredible that without a doubt the estates of many artists are guaranteed placement on the radio even though many of them have been deceased for many years. The pop charts are dominated by whatever contemporary, awesome artists there are nowadays, but in December you can guarantee that Burl Ives and Dean Martin will be on the radio with the best of them. I find that so charming. It’s because people really, really love this music.

And those songs don’t sound like the sounds that we’re hearing on the radio, sonically, harmonically, rhythmically. They employ a lot of “classic” sounds that evoke the feeling of Christmas. I’m a self-proclaimed genrephile—this is a term I use for myself throughout all the stuff that I do. I can’t help but be so enchanted by this idea that artists have license, and by license I mean an excuse to do things that you ordinarily wouldn’t be encouraged to do, or that audiences wouldn’t necessarily be as quick to absorb.

So, when you’re talking about classic Christmas writing, for lack of a better word, you use clichéd Christmas terminology, you use certain chords, and harmonies, and instrumentations that you just wouldn’t do throughout the year. It leans on the slightly more sophisticated, slightly more musical, and that is really exciting for someone like me.

How much does the fact that your last name is Criss play into this?

If you play music and your last name is Criss, every year someone says, “You know what you should do?” as if they’re the first person who’s ever thought of this idea. So I’ve always wanted to do this; it was just a matter of time. And I also didn’t want it to be phoned in, I didn’t want it to seem like, “Oh, here’s some songs that you know already.”

I wrote this in my liner notes that my favorite thing to do with art, but particularly music, is curate, interpolate, create and personalize. That’s my main thing. I’m an OK singer, I’m an OK musician, but what I really think I have a yen for is trying to interpolate something new that people didn’t know before.

If you think about a song like “Jingle Bells,” it was not written for Christmas. It was a song from 200-something years ago that bears no mention of Christmas whatsoever, but we associate it so heavily with Christmas. Lately I hear Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” come up on Christmas playlists. I think it must have something to do with the Christian angle of the song and the reverence of the word “hallelujah,” but there’s no mention of Christmas.

So there’s a lot of different things that can make people feel like Christmas if you arrange it a certain way, and that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted this cocktail of songs that people didn’t know and I might be able to introduce to them in a really new, interesting way.

You duet with Adam Lambert, Evan Rachel Wood and Lainey Wilson. These people couldn’t be more different. How did you select your song partners for this?

Honestly, people are busy, so I leaned on friends of mine. The album is called A Very Darren Crissmas, and I wanted to make it just that. Songs that are very, very me, doing things that are very me, and using the talents of people who are legitimately in my life. Adam has been a pal for a long time. We’ve known each other from just adventures in Hollywood, but he, of course, was on Glee with me. Evan Rachel is a dear pal of mine; we’ve done some things together. She’s played my festival, and I’ve done comedy sketches with her and stuff. These are all extraordinarily talented singers. As I told them when I asked them to be a part of it, “I’d be very lucky to have you on this record.”

I had not met Lainey Wilson before I started this. But when you’re in Nashville, you are in the Olympic tent of USDA certified prime country singers. And that’s a bit of a blind spot for me as far as who’s on the up and up, who’s somebody that can really give a level of authenticity, legitimacy to a more classic ’50s Nashville sound, which is the song that I wrote called “Drunk on Christmas.” My producer Ron Fair, who has been living in Nashville for a while, suggested Lainey and we got on like a house on fire. She’s an extraordinary talent and I was happy to have her. These were all people that were part of this grassroots friend to friend thing. That’s how I got them and I’m very lucky that they’re on the record.

There are hundreds of Christmas songs. How did you choose what to include?

Choosing was extremely hard. I had a list of about 100 songs. I’m not done; this record is only phase one in my mind. There are so many songs that it will make your head spin. If you go, “Did you think about this song?” The answer is yes, and I absolutely had to deliberate which ones I had to triage out of the sequence.

I even said no to “The Christmas Song,” which is on the album. I didn’t want to do it because I was like, “Everybody knows it; it’s perfect by Nat King Cole,” and Mel Tormé [who wrote it] is one of my favorite artists of all time, much less songwriters and musicians. So I was like, “I don’t want to have to do that.” And on the day when we were there, we just had a guitar and said, “Let’s just do it for fun,” because I love singing that song. But I was like, “It’s been done perfectly too many times, I really don’t want to have to put myself up against that.” But we had a nice take, it’s live in the room. And hey, come on, it’s Christmas. So I left it on there.

If we were to come to your house during the holidays, what would you be listening to?

I’d probably sit you down and play you my favorite songs that you’ve never heard that I think are great Christmas songs. But what’s nice is I’ve now put those songs on this album, hopefully, in a perhaps delusional effort to standardize these songs in the Christmas pantheon. There has to be an air of delusion to being an artist in the first place. If one of these songs that no one’s ever heard before catches on with a family or a person and becomes part of their Christmas playlist every year, then I will have succeeded in my efforts.

What did the Emmy you won for The Assassination of Gianni Versace do for your career?

Although the Emmy has just my name on it, the number one thing that I’m most proud of is it’s more symbolic and representative of the work of the whole team. It is a validation and celebration of the really hard work of people that I spent a lot of time and energy with creating this role.

You have a couple voice roles coming up—in Trese and Yasuke—but what are we going to see you in next, not just hear you?

I don’t know. Let me know if there’s any opportunities. A huge reason for why this album was made was because I had the time. Making records takes a lot of time, and I’m envious of people who are just singers. I don’t know how people do that, that’s just not who I am. I’m a producer, I’m a writer, I’m a musician. It takes so much out of me to make a body of music because someone doesn’t say, “OK, here are the songs, show up on a Tuesday, you sing it and then you leave.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Some of my favorite artists can do that and are blessed enough to be able to just do that. I can’t.

It takes so much time for me to really get in the weeds, arrange, edit vocals, edit instrumentation, mix tracks, really getting in the jungle of music production. I can’t function any other way and that takes an extraordinary amount of time. Even when there was a global pandemic, I still had deadlines that we could barely make to finish this album because that’s just how my brain works.

So I haven’t been able to act. I haven’t had an acting job in almost two years. That’s not entirely true. I’ve had little bit things during the pandemic, but no big series or films or anything like that. It’s just been mostly working from home and being as proactive as I can be. I started a weekly podcast with a friend of mine, I put out an EP. I’ve been extremely busy with high output and low visibility. I’m waiting for the next thing, but I’m not one to sit still. If you give me time, I’m going to fill all the spaces out. So I did that with music this past two years.

Are you going to go back to Broadway now that it’s opening again?

I don’t want to say anything that is not perhaps confirmed 100 percent, but I will say with full confidence that I have always had the intention of going back exactly where we started. I’ll let them announce what’s happening because every show is in its own unique holding pattern. But, yes, right before the shutdown I was doing American Buffalo in New York, and talk about the actor’s dream, that is right up there. Doing a great American play that I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve had a long history with that show, and I finally get to do it for real with two of my favorite actors—Sam Rockwell and Laurence Fishburne. They are two acting heroes of mine.

So I was in rehearsals for that. We were about to go into tech, and things got shut down. But we’re in a very fortunate position where you’ve got two huge movie stars, you have a very well-known play and you have a fixed set and just three guys. There are musicals that have orchestras, big choruses and huge set pieces, and the overhead and upkeep of these productions is quite complicated. And a lot of them, for that reason, fell by the wayside during the pandemic, and it’s an awful tragedy. But our set and our billboard and our posters are exactly where we left them. It’s kind of a trip. If you go to Circle in the Square, I keep telling people it’s the longest I’ve ever been on Broadway because it’s just sitting there dormant, waiting to be resurrected.

I think all of us are planning on going back. I think the show is scheduled to reopen almost to the day that it was supposed to open in 2020. We’ll see how the schedule ends up, but you have three guys whose heart and soul is the theater. I don’t want to speak for the other two guys, but I’m almost positive that all three of us would rather be doing that play on Broadway than anything else. So when I say I haven’t had an acting gig in two years, it’s been a comfort to know that that was waiting for me on the other end. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we’ll be able to do it. We’ll have to make sure that everything is hunky-dory with theater audiences, et cetera, et cetera, but that’s the idea.

How did Ryan Murphy casting you in Glee change your life?

I said during my Emmy speech that actors are only as good as the moments they get. I used to say actors are only as good as the parts they get. Take that with a huge grain of salt, obviously, it’s not entirely true. But in context of that moment, certainly you can understand what I meant. Acting is a proactive craft, but in many respects it’s a passive career, where you have to hope and wait for a benefactor, a patron, a supporter to say, “OK, all right, kid, you’re up. I think you can do it.”

I think any artist’s life is a constant compromise between knowing what you can do and what you want to do, and having other people, audiences and creative authorities alike, have an idea of what you can do. You have to have that balance of somewhere in the middle, where hopefully you can rise to an occasion that you know you can do, that somebody’s going to give you the opportunity to do. But you’re not in control of that relationship, and so you have to sit and hope and pray that someone is going to give you that moment and that opportunity. That was something that I’m fully indebted to with Ryan.

Because he did say, “All right, kid, you’re up,” and gave me that shot. We talked about the The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story series for years before we did it. I didn’t think he was ever going to do it. By the time we started shooting, he probably mentioned it to me three or four years prior. And I kept asking about it like, “Hey, you still want to do this thing?” I think he was just always obsessed with the fact that I was half Filipino and that I bore a certain resemblance to the guy. Age and everything, it seems pretty spot-on. But he was a man of his word, and he really did end up making it. So I’m incredibly indebted to him and I’ve always been very effusive about that.

Now that you have this modicum of fame, what would you like to use it to accomplish?

For me, there are so many things that I love in this world that I don’t think other people are familiar with. One of the things about having a modicum of a platform is hopefully embracing that to use it as a gateway drug for stuff that people might not be familiar with. I don’t know if they’re going to like it as much as I do, but I’m looking at this track list and there are songs that I guarantee that you don’t know.

These are all things where I go, “OK, I have this moment of people’s attention, hopefully, this is a fun way to have them have eyes on something that I think is deserving of eyes, and not because of me, but because of other people who have made something amazing.” And, hopefully, they have the same proactive curiosity that I had growing up where I look at the liner notes and see who wrote the songs and where they came from. But we’ll see. We’ll see if people have that reaction.

You’ve accomplished so much. What’s the dream going forward?

The dream is to keep doing me, really. I think all you can do is be as true to yourself and try and do as accessible and as valuable work as you can. And, hopefully, in so doing, represent people, giving them visibility and encouragement towards their own place in the cultural conversation.

#darren criss #parade magazine #a very darren crissmas #press #oct 2021

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jjuzoir · 5 years ago

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request: Hello! Can I ask headcanons about being childhood!besties with Miya twins (about child and about adults)? (by nonnie!)

a/n: ofc baby!! sorry for taking so long 🤧 every time i try writing something happens it’s ridiculous 😔 anyway sorry if it’s bad ive been ✨struggling✨

- Being friends with one of them is like, hard enough— but the two? Good luck.

- You three met via your parents— yes, it’s like that, you were the new kid and awkward as hell. Your parents were having none of that shit and made a playdate for you with the twins, it’s embarrassing, you were like 13 and that’s kind of embarrassing for you and you knew it.

- Like, here you were a newly turned teenager, sitting on a couch with two guys your age all watching a weird cartoon and you all want to die.

- But at some point, you three start acting like you had known each other for your whole lives. You three fight to this day on who cracked the ice, Atsumu swears it was him and his sense of humor but you and Osamu are not taking that shit, like with what humor?

- You start hanging out after school, since you three went to the same school it started bleeding into school time and your teachers hated you three.

- During middle school you three were known to your teachers for being insufferable— more like, Atsumu and you. You two were the type of kids to pass fake notes with the stupidest shit written on it, like middle school humor, “Miss Poopy Pants” and “ICUP” so the teachers would have to read it aloud.

- Osamu and you? Known to the lunch ladies, you two were the first to arrive and gobble down anything and everything especially onigiri. They even snuck you two snacks for class— yes, you were the kids who had a whole grill in the back. Always eating.

- You three didn’t skip class though— I feel like Atsumu might’ve tried to convince you but ultimately forgot.

- During gym you three would always be in the same team if you could pick but it would end with Atsumu and Osamu fighting about dodgeball and getting disqualified leaving you alone.

- They got into Volley around then and you became their number one cheerleader, you’d fight anyone who’d say they weren’t good.

- By high school you three were known for being kind of chaotic!

- You know your parent’s discussed what school they’d put the three of you together in, they joked about separating you guys and you almost cried no joke.

- So you three go to Inarizaki together and when I tell you everyone is annoyed by you three and your shit I mean it 💕

- Especially the volleyball club, you decided to become their manager at the same time the twins got in— they were happy, finally a manager and some new kids; good, good.

- Until they learned about how absolutely full of shit the three of you are, Atsumu and Osamu are already a handful together but you? You add a whole new spice to this shit and it’s ✨embarrassing✨ for them.

- You and ‘Tsumu always goof off and get lost because you two were fighting over something, it takes the whole team’s willpower to not let you stranded.

- “All I’m saying is since Osamu looks like Atsumu, would anyone really notice if we just dye his hair yellow?”

- But they are also thankful, you manage to bring a semblance of peace during their fights. It doesn’t take much for you to calm them down, so they keep you around even if you sometimes distract the two of them too much.

- You’re still their number one cheerleader! Whenever they manage to score you’re the first to jump around and congratulate them, they’d never tell you but it’s kind of sweet seeing you so proud of them. They’d rather die than tell you though so shh.

- You being there brings a new level of competitiveness, they gotta make you proud! You’re cheering your little heart out for them; they can’t embarrass you now.

- But you can't always win, so whenever they (unfortunately) lose, you’re always the first to comfort them. You all go to your house and chill for a while, they get kinda quiet and you can feel how tense they are but they’d rather spend the afternoon after a bad match with you.

- Bet your ass you three watch Power Rangers and you all fight about who the best Ranger is; Atsumu says it’s Red Ranger and Osamu is about to snap his neck when there’s a whole Black Ranger, but they can agree to bully you when you say you like Green the best.

- Back to you being their manager, I feel like they’re kind of better behaved? Like, they get into less trouble and are less likely to fight because Kita sends you to scold them and it’s embarrassing being scolded by someone who thought the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters was also Michelin Man.

- Now to their individual quirks; Osamu loves it when you help him cook or cook for him, he feels all happy you take the time to make him something— especially when they’re practicing, he really appreciates you coming in with some food for him and the team. He likes the fact you take care of him in small ways!

- “Awww, the little bug cares about me~”

- “Shut up, next time I’m putting cyanide in your stupid Onigiri.”

- Atsumu likes it when you’re just there, not even talking, just vibing together. He likes how you two don’t have to always talk to know what’s going on, it’s probably what he loves the most about your friendship. The fact you just get each other is something he kind of loves.

- Sometimes ruins it by saying dumb shit but it’s okay ♥︎ No it’s not ♥︎

- “Do you ever think about Taemin Paula, like who’s Paula and why are they taming her?”

- “‘Tsumu go back to being quiet, please just shut up.”

- Oh, let’s talk S/O! The two of them are protective over you, you’re their best friend!

- Osamu is more vocal about what he dislikes, he flat out tells you not to go out with them, pointing out all of what he doesn’t like and why he gets bad vibes or why he feels like they’re just not it.

- Atsumu doesn’t say much, he’s got his fair share of flings and dates— good and bad, though, it’d be unfair of him to tell you what to do. But you can tell when he doesn’t like someone you’re seeing.

- This is only if they feel like the person isn’t good enough, it’s not like they don’t want you to date. They’re just careful of it, you’re like a sibling to them and they wouldn’t want you to get heartbroken.

- Speaking about heartbreak; they get very mad at the person, you’re amazing! Why’d they go and fuck you over like that.

- Atsumu would throw hands, it’s in sight with the other person; especially if he never got bad vibes from them, he’s so mad he wasn’t there to see the red flags.

- Osamu is behind him and he’s not stopping his brother, he knew something wasn’t right about them and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give them a piece of his mind.

- But at the end of the day, what’s most important to them is making sure you’re alright at the end of the day. They care about you, dummy.

- They’d come over to your house and cheer you up, Atsumu would tell his jokes and Osamu and you would laugh at how bad they are 💖

- “I’m glad you feel better but I’m startin’ to feel kinda bad here myself-“ “Maybe get better jokes <3”

- Once you three graduate you still keep in touch, probably more with Osamu since he’s not always busy like Atsumu; in other words, even during your adult they torment you 💕

- You’re so proud of the two of them though? Like, you’re always bragging about them, it’s just so !! Seeing the kids you grew up with become successful? Amazing.

- “Have I told you about how my childhood best friend is a PROFESSIONAL, yes PROFESSIONAL, volleyball player?”

- “[Name], I am literally his fucking brother shut up.”

- Osamu and you totally make fun of Atsumu, it’s gotten to the point you always try embarrassing more each game. Your latest (very successful, much to Atsumu’s dismay) attempt was wearing shirts with ugly childhood pictures of Atsumu, I’m talking about the type your parents bring up to make fun of you and a banner that said “Tsu-Tsu our superstar!” or something like that.

- He almost cried on national television, he was horrified, the worst part? You were in front row seats meaning that everyone the camera panned in to one of the players you’d be in full view.

- “Atsumu, is that [Name] and Osamu?” “You were so fucking ugly as a child oh my god-“

- Sakusa is having a field trip with this, that thing won’t die as long as he lives— this man will film this shit, tape it and pass it as a family heirloom.

- “Kiyoomi could you-?”

- “Don’t talk to me you gremlin baby.”

- “This was months ago, let it die!”

- “You lived your whole childhood looking like that, I don’t think I will.”

- The three of you reminiscing about high school together at Onigiri Miya? Yes, it happens and it’s ♥︎

- “Do you remember when Osamu shoved a marble up his nose, stupid kid…”

- “Tch, rough words for a fucker who bit into a brick because it looked tasty.”

- “I was young!”

- ��You were 16, piss head.”

- A lot of the time you just like spending time with each other, even during your busy schedules you always do your best to talk to each other at least once a month.

- Sometimes it’s just talking over the phone and other times it’s going to fancy restaurants that Atsumu pays, other times it can also be trying to make new recipes with Osamu as Atsumu just cringes in the back.

- They're just always there for you, yes you fight and yes they’re kind of annoying but you care for them and you don’t mind it. You’d rather spend a whole other lifetime having to endure their teasing than not have them at all.

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beatlebachelor · 4 years ago

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May I? : Cedric diggory x reader

summary: your Cedrics best friend and you begin to realise your genuine feelings for him after he enters the Tri-wizard tournament only to find out he feels the same. hufflepuff reader!

Warnings: possibly fluffy?

Word count: 2,257

Y/N - your name

Y/E/C - your eye colour

This is my first time writing one of these so if there is any way you think i could improve please feel free to give suggestions!

Its Monday morning, 9:10 to be precise, me and my friends Cedric, Hermione, Harry and Ron were all sat down having breakfast in the great hall. Despite the fact me and Cedric were in Hufflepuff and the other three were Gryffindor we always sat together. Cedric was two years older than us and did get teased about hanging out with third years but it didn’t bother him, he enjoyed our company. I often hoped he favoured mine especially.

After everyone had finished their food Dumbledore stood up to do his weekly Monday morning speech, but it felt different this morning. “Is that Bartemius Crouch?” Hermione inquired. “Who?” Harry said cautiously. As Hermione went to answer she was quickly interrupted by Dumbledore as his voice bellowed through to the other side of the hall.

“Today, I get to announce something very special and to help me we have Sir Bartemius Crouch from The Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts has been selected to host a famous wizarding event. The Tri-Wizard Tournament!�� suddenly there were many whistles, cheers and whispers coming from all four tables, me and Cedric looked at each other in immense delight but everything suddenly stopped when Dumbledore spoke again. “There have been some new rules put in place this year to ensure more safety for our students, after all this is a very dangerous competition. Sir Bartemius Crouch, if you will” a few small whispers formed from different areas of the hall. Ron whispered to us all “if any of you enter this competition ill be praying for you, this tournament is the real thing, so many people that have entered this died just from the first round” What Ron said shook me up a little, part of me knew that Cedric would give into whatever temptation he had to enter.

After all the whispers had finished Bartemius walked up to stand beside Dumbledore. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket where he had obviously written a speech. The room began to feel slightly tense. “From this year onward those who enter and compete in the Tri-wizard tournament must be at least 17 years old-” He was suddenly cut off by the majority of the hall shouting and screaming at him. Me, Harry, Hermione and Ron weren't phased by the new rule. None of us were of age anyway and if we were we wouldn’t have entered. Cedric however appeared to be very pleased with himself, he was 17, he could compete, he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything but id known him for ages. What if he entered and got hurt, I don’t want to stop him from doing something he is interested in though because that wouldn’t be fair.

When we all left the hall I went straight to dark arts, I didn’t speak a word to Cedric in fear that if I did I would just break down and cry. I didn’t want to ruin anything for him because I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to win that cup, and if he wanted it then I would want it for him. After all I was his closest friend, friend... that never felt nice to say.

In dark arts I could barely focus, all I could think about was if I liked Cedric, I had known him for so long and never thought about whether how I felt about him was more than just friendship. I mean would it be so bad if I liked him? I couldn’t get him out of my head. UGGGGHHH this is so frustrating. The thought always did cross my mind about how perfect his face was, everything about him in fact, I couldn’t think of a single flaw no matter how hard I tried.

By the time lunch came I still hadn't made up my mind on if I actually fancied Cedric, I mean come on, am I really going to be like every other girl in this school and fall for his charm. And as if he’d ever like me back, by the looks of it he’s probably into one of the Beaxbatons Academy girls just like the rest of the boys in this place. In all fairness it is rather enjoyable to watch them walk, how do they always look like they are floating? Besides the point! Hopefully I'm just unwell, surely that’s the only explanation.

I went straight back to the common room, anything to avoid Cedric, even if it was missing lunch. However, it appeared my plan to avoid Cedric had failed when I walked in to see him sat on the sofa next to the fire. Just him, no one else. “Are you ok?” I asked with a shake in my voice. “Y/N I wanted to talk to you. We have been friends for ages which is why I want your opinion, I trust you” I felt a small flutter of butterflies in my stomach and proceeded to say “you trust me? I mean emm what is it?” that made me feel rather embarrassed. “Well, I was thinking of entering the Tri-wizard tournament but i know how dangerous it is and idk if I'm capable of the magic I will need to protect myself. I also don’t want to hurt anyone if something bad were to happen to me” A horrible feeling formed in my stomach and slowly moved to my throat. The thought of Cedric getting hurt made me feel sick. “Cedric don’t be silly. Your one of the most talented wizards in this whole school and you seriously think you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself. If its what you want then we all want it for you and I will help in whatever way I can to ensure you win” I said that full of confidence, I really did mean it, every word. “Youve always been there for me Y/N, I genuinely don't know what I would do without you” He pulled me in for a hug, I always loved our hugs, my head would always fall in the right place on his chest. He smells so good, almost a musky bark smell with a hint of vanilla. I wondered if he thought the same.

A week passed and it was time for the champions on the Tri-wizard tournament to be announced. First the champion of Beaxbatons, Fleur Delacour. Next the Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum. As the paper for the Hogwarts champion floated down into Dumbledores hand my stomach sunk but then I felt a slight warmth on my hand, I looked down and it was Cedric. He had interlocked his fingers into mine and was gently squeezing them with excitement, I turned to him and smiled he looked directly into my eyes with a slight smirk as his cheeks flushed pink.

Dumbledore read out the name on the paper “And finally the Hogwarts champion is, Cedric Diggory” Cedrics face lit up with pure joy, so did mine, his iridescent blue eyes glistening. He hugged me so tightly for only about 2 seconds, but there it was again, that smell, his scent makes me feel so warm inside. He let go and stood up to go shake Dumbledores hand. Everyone was cheering, mainly the girls, of course it was the girls.

Another week went by and we had been preparing for his first task, dragons, I don’t know what would've happened to Cedric if Harry didn't tip him off. We practised basic spells on how to defend himself against them for hours and hours. Now we would have to see if he remembered them. Whilst in the tent I stayed with Cedric, he asked me to, his words were “your the only one who can keep me calm” After he had picked out his dragon the canon went off, Cedrics eyes glazed over slightly as he turned and gently kissed me on the forehead. He had never done that before, maybe it was just out of nerves. So many thoughts rushed through my head, surely Cedric didn’t like me? By the time I had gathered my thoughts he had already gone. I ran to my place in the audience, right next to Hermione. She asked what took me so long. I didn’t want to tell her but at the same time I did, I gave her a brisk hug and began to watch Cedric in hope that he would succeed and taking the egg.

Cedric managed to complete the first task unharmed within what seemed about 15 minutes. I was so proud of him. When we were all back at the common room I realised I needed to talk to Cedric, about all the hugs and the forehead kiss and most importantly, how I felt, I waited for everyone to head to their rooms and asked Cedric to stay behind. We sat on the sofa with the fire crackling beside us. “I'm so happy you passed the first challenge, I'm really impressed” I paused for a second thinking of how I was meant to say what I needed to say, but then he cut me off. “Y/N, about earlier, when I kissed you on your forehead, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Recently Ive realised how much you mean to me and I don’t want to do anything that your not ok with. I'm sorry if this is forward but I really do like you, its everything about you. Your hair, your smell, your Y/E/C eyes. I'm sorry I sound so stupid right now” A rush of emotions came over me, was I hearing this correctly, did I fall asleep and I'm actually just dreaming. “Cedric, I feel exactly the same, I didn’t want to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same way and then it was too awkward to continue being friends. That’s why I asked you to stay down here with me for a bit” Cedrics cheeks were bright red and he had a happy/embarrassed expression on his face, I could tell mine was doing the exact same. He held onto my hand again, it felt so natural, I usually wasn’t all for the idea of being touched often but when Cedric did it everything felt ok.

A couple hours passed whilst we were just chatting and even played a game of wizards chess. After I began to get tired he walked me to my room holding my hand all the way. When I got to the door he stopped. ”Y/N would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me” I didn’t even have to think “Yes Cedric, I would” He hugged me and let me go into my room.

We practised for the dance for the next two weeks, it was so fun, we rarely took it seriously but that was what made it even better.

Finally, I hope our practise for the dance was worth while considering I have two left feet. I had just finished getting ready, I wore a flowy light blue dress with a few pale pink and beige tones. As I walked down the stairs I bumped into Hermione. She looked so beautiful, her hair was so perfectly done and she was wearing the prettiest pink dress. Had I not made a big enough effort? We continued to walk down the stairs and I noticed Krum was waiting for Hermione, I couldn’t see Cedric so I stood and waited with them both for a bit. And then, there he was, he looked as handsome as ever in his dress robes, a wide smile formed on his face when he looked at me. He slowly walked over “you look absolutely stunning Y/N” he said whilst gently holding onto both of my hands. “Don't look too shabby yourself” I said with a little giggle, he laughed too, he always did tell me that my laugh was contagious.

Once everyone was gathered in the great hall the champions and their partners were ordered to enter as we were the first to dance. We took position. Staring into Cedrics eyes as he held onto my waist made me feel as if we were the only two people in the room, I wasn’t worried, in fact I didn’t feel anything but joy. The music began and we set off. The more I continued to look into his eyes the more natural the dancing felt. Every time he lifted me into the air butterflies formed in my stomach, my dream was always to be able to dance in a ball with a gorgeous boy and now, my dream was coming true.

As the night grew longer me and Cedric remained in the hall dancing for hours upon hours. Eventually we sat down “Tonight has been really fun Y/N” he started “i actually have something to ask you, well Ive been meaning to ask it for a while now actually.” There was only one thing on my mind “sure go ahead” Cedric slowly stood up holding my hand causing me to stand up too. He gently moved the hair from out of my face and put it behind my ear and the proceeded to place his hand on my cheek. His hands were so soft, I could feel the warmth on my skin. My heart was beating so fast. I saw him open his mouth as if he was too scared to say what he wanted to. “May I kiss you” he said silently in a slightly shaky voice. I leaned in closer to him, my lips very nearly touching his. “...yes”

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iamtheblondestblonde · 5 years ago

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Clear as Day

Part One?

AN: Here’s some friends with benefits with Vince that I came up with in between cases at work. Vince if you’re reading this I’m so sorry please stop right here but also hmu I swear I just wanna be friends. I don’t know much about being a pediatric nurse (financial law anyone?) but I did volunteer at a hospital for a while so I hope it’s not super far off. I have plans and some stuff written for a part two that could be the same length so let me know you want one but it could be complete like this. (First person narrative but again no names or descriptions for the mc)

Warnings: language, definitely (also English isn’t my first language so perhaps some mistakes) and smut, also definitely (yes you read that right I did it again)

Word Count: 13.3k

I loved my job. I really did. I found it rewarding to be able to make tiny faces light up but I was currently on my second day of 12 hour back to back shifts, with yesterday closer to 14 hours, and I just really wanted to spend the entire day in bed.

It wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet and the streets of Toronto were already bustling, everybody preparing for a busy day. The sound of the ice cubes sloshing around in my coffee had become a staple background noise for the walk from the employee parking lot to the front entrance of the hospital, it soothed me.

As soon as I stepped into the building I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, despite being sleep-deprived and basically needing a break already. There was a new drawing pinned to the wall by the nurses’ station and if the image of my smiling face wasn’t a dead giveaway already, it was hard to miss my name written on top of it in big bold letters.

It had started out as a joke really, a half-hearted complaint about me not getting as many drawings as others because most of my patients didn’t stay long in the ICU. From that moment on Lucas, my only long-term patient right now and all-time favorite teenager, had made sure that there was always a new one waiting for me every week. He was really good at drawing as well and I had an entire stack of amazing portraits, landscapes and lots of other random things at my apartment that I cherished dearly.

“He wanted to give it to you himself but then we had to give him something and he asked me to put it up so you’d see it as soon as you got in.” I turned around to see Mariah standing behind me, her face showing the same look of fondness as mine. Most of the nurses were pretty convinced that he had a crush on me and while I had to face lots of playful jabs because of that, she never gave me shit about it. She was probably about to head out and I knew that she only stayed behind to tell me this so I made sure to thank her.

“Is he up yet?”

“Surprisingly not, although he should be soon. He’s had a rough night and he stayed up way too long to draw but I doubt that anything could ruin this day for him, two dreams coming true and all.”

As soon as her words registered with me I mentally facepalmed, I’d completely forgotten that we’d get a visitor in a couple of hours. Because of Lucas’ surgery he hadn’t talked about hockey all that much lately, so I’d kind of forgotten that today he would get to meet one of his idols. I was about to respond something when I spotted Sydney waving me over.

Sydney was in charge of all of the pediatric nurses during the day shift, meaning that I had approximately three seconds to make my way over before she’d get impatient because she was always so busy. I waved goodbye to Mariah and speed walked over to Sydney, curious to see as to what she needed of me. She never beat around the bush, always coming straight to the core of things so I didn’t expect the conversation to last long and today was no different. She probably held the world record for fastest talker.

“So you know we’re getting a visitor today which means that I need someone to run a tight ship for me. You’re young and perky and I asked around and people love you. I know you helped with some of the Leafs the last time so you should already be familiar with the protocol. This is a big hospital and I want all of the kids on the list to get a chance to talk to Mr Dunn and that won’t happen if he gets lost so I want you to stay with him at all times, got it? I’ll get one of the on-calls to take over for you during everything.”

I couldn’t even get a word in before her pager went off and she jogged off after practically thrusting a file into my hands, unable to respond anything as she said something over her shoulder about this being a gift. I stared after her with my mouth hanging wide open, not really comprehending what had just gone down yet.

Being ‘young and perky’ had apparently just managed to get me demoted from a RN to a babysitter for yet another over-confident celebrity which didn’t really feel like a gift at all.

Lucas had told me all about how great this Vince apparently was but I had seen my fair share of famous people walking around these halls with camera teams following them, it was kind of a part of working with sick kids. There were exceptions of course, some of them were really nice but those were usually the ones that didn’t visit the kids for some good PR. While I was glad that it would make Lucas happy it didn’t really impress me anymore.

Besides I hadn’t really paid attention to hockey ever before, although it was hard to escape the hype right now with me being a St. Louis native. Some of my friends had sent me pictures of the parade from about a month ago but I hadn’t really paid much attention because I’d been slammed with work, not recognizing any of the players either way.

The file Sydney had given me consisted of a schedule for the day and a list of the kids that wanted to meet Vince, which was surprisingly long for this being a hospital in Toronto and him playing for the Blues. Even with my limited, read non-existent, hockey knowledge I was pretty sure that the team wasn’t liked very much in the league but I blamed it on them winning. Sydney was right, we would have to make good time to get through everybody.

I couldn’t exactly spend forever going through the file because I had mostly new admissions assigned to me and that meant lots of charting and running tests. I did spend my break reading through everything and trying to come up with a plan while shoveling food to my mouth at record speed however. Even if I wasn’t exactly thrilled with this assignment there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t be prepared. I would leave this hospital with the best possible impression of me, all things be damned.

It was kind of hard to focus on what was written in front of me though when I had three other nurses standing close by and ranting about how hot Vince apparently was. Lucas had shown me his hockey card a few times but I didn’t really know what he looked like because I was usually busy putting in a new IV line at the time, something he’d come to hate so talking about hockey was the perfect distraction. I was tempted to google him but before I got the chance my pager went off, signaling that the incoming convoy was about to arrive.

Unable to stop myself I checked my reflection quickly in one of the mirrors on my way out of the restroom. Call me vain but I didn’t want to end up in any pictures or videos looking like a total slob, even if it was just in the background. I’d taken the time to shower this morning but I definitely would’ve added more than the layer of concealer if I’d known about this earlier. At least I’d gotten my brows done and my lash extensions refilled a couple of days ago. Deciding that it was too late to do anything else about it I walked towards the front entrance with the file in my hands, making sure one last time that I knew where to take this Vince first.

It wasn’t hard to spot him in the group that arrived, the big shiny trophy he was lugging around kind of a dead giveaway.

He was good-looking, I had to give him that. Not in the rugged handsome way however, it was more of a defined features and beautiful way. The kind of look that got you dubbed as a pretty boy during high school, the polo shirt he was spotting only reinforcing that image.

I couldn’t really imagine him playing ice hockey. He was fit of course, but he wasn’t as big and bulky as I’d thought and if I had to guess I’d peg him as a baseball or lacrosse player, perhaps soccer even. If all hockey players looked like him however, I might have to catch a game or two after all.

I walked over with my big work smile plastered on my face, hand outstretched and he set the cup down to shake it as I introduced myself first. I caught him looking me up and down quickly but I wasn’t really one to talk because I’d done the same exact thing just seconds earlier.

“Hi I’m Vince, nice to meet you. Love the scrubs by the way”, he responded with a dazzling smile, gesturing at my outfit. Compliments weren’t a bad start, especially since I was wearing one of my favorites with an adorable blue and pink dinosaurs print.

“Thanks, one of my friends paints them for me.” Not willing to dwell too long on awkward small talk I continued: “Do you want me to get like a wheelchair for the cup or are you gonna carry it the entire time?”

“I think I’d get a lot of shit for not carrying it so thanks but no thanks.”

I quickly introduced myself to the rest of the team before herding everyone towards the elevators because he had to be upstairs in a couple of minutes. The camera team was more intimidating than I’d thought and I tried my best to distract myself from it as I pointed out different things around the hospital, only hoping that I wasn’t rambling without making any sense.

I was pretty sure that Vince could tell that I was uncomfortable because he kept our conversation going the whole time, obviously trying to make me laugh. His own laugh was hard to ignore and by the time we walked into the room where a livestream would take place the smile on my face was real. At least he wasn’t just easy on the eyes but he seemed fairly entertaining so far as well.

I watched him do the stream with Owen, who I’d spent some time in post-op with after his surgery a couple of weeks ago, and then stood close by as he talked to the long line of patients and people who were able to come up here. Sometimes when he saw a special needs kid getting closer he’d turn to me to ask for advice and tips and even all that ruckus didn’t stop him from keeping up a normal conversation with me.

He’d pick up right where we left off whenever there was a small break in between people and I wasn’t only amazed at his multitasking, but also at how amazing he was with the kids. He made me show him how to hold a baby and I think I’ll never be able to forget the image of a cute little baby boy in the cup.

“I ate cereal out of there this morning”, he whispered conspiratorially to me after the mother was finally done thanking him and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course you did. I hope you put it in the sink afterwards at least.” He gave me a wounded look, as if me insinuating he was not a clean person was hurting his ego and I laughed even more. I couldn’t really tell if he was trying to flirt with me or if he was like this with everyone but the mixed signals he’d sent me all afternoon were starting to get confusing.

“You think so lowly of me, I thought you’d know better by now.” With anyone else the wink he sent me as he delivered his line would have probably been overkill but somehow it worked for him.

The fact was that I did know better by now, even if it had only been just under two hours. I probably hadn’t been this wrong about something since I absolutely botched a math test in tenth grade thinking I aced it and he had turned out to be nothing like I had imagined him to be. Perhaps the early morning sleep-deprived me lacked the sense of being able to assess character that I usually had.

When I told him that it was time to leave he looked at me with a puppy eyes, pleading with me to let him stay a little longer. Working in pediatrics I got this a lot but somehow it had a whole different effect on me coming from a 6 feet tall hockey player with lips that were practically made for pouting.

“But there’s still some people left that I haven’t gotten to.”

“There’s also some kids that couldn’t come up here because they are too sick waiting for you in the ICU and you won’t be able to see all of them in time if we don’t go over there now. There’s a tight schedule for a reason you know.”

“Fuck the schedule, I’ll just stay longer,” he said with a cheeky grin but not before covering the ears of the little girl in front of him with his hands so she wouldn’t hear him curse. At this point I felt like it was way too easy for him to make me laugh but at the same time I didn’t really want to do anything against it. These halls had seen worse things than people laughing after all.

“You fit right in with all of my patients, you know that? And don’t you have plans with the cup for this evening?”

I didn’t get an answer straight away because Vince took his time to talk to the last five families left in line before we made our way back to the elevators. I had kind of forgotten about the camera crew that was there to document it all until all of us were crammed back inside the tight space, my shoulder brushing against Vince’s arm so I wouldn’t bump into any of the expensive equipment.

“I promised to make an appearance at this club but they’ll wait for me. By the way, you should come as well.” At first I thought he was joking, surely he had to be as we’d only met, but his try at a winning smile told me he was anything but. Again, was this him flirting or was I losing my mind?

“Shooting your shot while you’re in my good graces because of the kids, I see. I’m gonna have to disappoint though, I’m stuck here till seven and then I have another 12 hour shift coming up tomorrow so I can have a four day weekend.” I had already kind of accepted that we would never see each other again, especially with me turning him down now, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a bit sad about it.

“That sounds brutal. I’m throwing another party at my condo on Saturday if you’re free then.”

“I’m actually driving up to a lake house with some friends for the weekend, sorry.” By now I really was interested because he seemed fun and I wanted that for my last few weeks up here but his timing was truly the worst.

“Wow, you’re really making me work for it,” he let out a teasing chuckle then, running his hand up and down his neck in a very distracting move as he contemplated his next words “I’m assuming you have a busy week next week as well so perhaps next Saturday?”

“Ummm.. I already agreed to meet some friends at a bar on that Saturday,” his face fell at that so I couldn’t help but add “but you’re welcome to meet us there if you want to see how the working class parties. Bring some of your friends as well if you want.”

The smile he gave me at that was equivalent to that of a five year old patient when they get told that they could have a slice of the chocolate cake and it made me glad that there was no one monitoring my heart rate at the moment.

The next day was just another regular day at work and while I had lots of fun yesterday, I was glad to be back in my comfort zone. Working days was anything but boring and I had been so busy that my watch told me I’d already reached my step goal for the day halfway through my shift.

I finally had some time to update the charts while sitting down at the nurses’ station, desperately hoping for some down time soon so I could perhaps even grab another cup of coffee to stop me from climbing into a free bed and taking a nap right there.

I’d seen many people pray in this building and not all of them got what they wished for but somehow today must have been my lucky day because just as I’d finished that thought someone cleared their throat in front of me. I was ready to answer some questions from worried parents but what I totally didn’t expect was Vince standing there with two coffee cups.

“I thought I’d drop this off as a thank you for babysitting me yesterday and I had a feeling that you’d need it”, he said before giving me one of his dazzling smiles. He looked good in a black t shirt and some jeans, his perfectly styled hair in contrast to the messy bun currently on top of my head. That is if the rat’s nest could even still be called a bun.

“Vince Dunn you just keep on surprising me”, I responded with a breathless laugh, not really knowing what else to say at the sweet gesture. What do you say to a good-looking hockey player that not only asks you to spend time with him three times but also takes the time out of his day for this?

Well, besides thanks, obviously.

Vince handed me one of the cups and I took a sip before looking up at him in surprise.

“How do you know the way I like my coffee?”

Instead of answering, he pointed at something behind me and I turned around to see the coffee order list I’d started a while ago in case someone decided to grab some for everyone, my name on top of the sheet.

“I noticed it yesterday in passing, I swear I’m not a stalker or anything.” He blushed at this and it was so cute and unlike his otherwise smooth self that I couldn’t just let him off the hook.

“You know, that’s exactly what a stalker would say”, I responded with a sly smile and while his face turned even more red he burst out laughing. By now we had the attention of every nurse close by and I was pretty sure that all of them were eavesdropping but who could blame them, I’d do the exact same thing. People here lived for the drama, kind of a given with how much time we spent in here because it didn’t really leave much space for a life outside of these halls. Especially if said drama involved a very hot hockey player.

“I’m changing the topic now before I embarrass myself in front of you even further just so you know. I did actually come here for one more thing,” he trailed off before bending down to pick up a bag that I hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by the guy in front of me. “I brought this for Lucas so he has something to show his friends once he gets back on the ice.” He pulled out a Blues’ jersey and turned it around so I could see that it was one of his, complete with a signature and a small message.

Lucas had been an avid hockey player himself up until his kidneys basically decided that they didn’t want to work anymore a while ago. Things had gotten so bad that he had to permanently stay in intensive care with us until after months of dragging people in here to get tested they finally found a donor in a family friend last week. At least his surgery had gone well and while I’d miss having him around, I was glad that he’d finally get discharged to recover at home later today.

I took another sip of the coffee before getting up and walking next to Vince to Lucas’ room. Lucas greeted me with a smile, which only grew after he saw who was following me into the room. Despite having struggled for so long he had always been in a good mood, even when he had to celebrate his fifteenth birthday in the hospital a few weeks ago.

“Look at you, it’s your last day in here and things just keep on getting better.” Vince and Lucas did the handshake they’d come up with yesterday, something that was absolutely necessary as a hockey player or so I’d been told.

Lucas had grown up in Chicago and he’d seen Vince play for the team there but had only really started paying attention after the apparently best fight ever Vince had gotten into at one of the games. Obviously not my words. The connection between the two of them had been instant and all the hockey talk had my head spinning more than during the first few weeks of nursing school so I made a quick exit, leaving them to it.

“I bet every nurse wishes they could trade spots with you right now, me included by the way”, Rachel, my partner in crime since day one of our college classes together, said as soon as I returned to my spot at the station.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, I responded, acting clueless. With a raised brow she reached for my coffee cup, spinning it around to reveal a small note written on the side of it that I hadn’t even noticed before.

“You sure about that? This fine specimen of a hockey player just gave you his number and you still act like there’s nothing going on? Besides, everyone saw you two getting all chummy yesterday.”

I snatched the cup out of her hands, quickly checking if the coast was clear before pulling out my phone to add his number to my contacts while keeping my head down so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“Oh wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. All I get is annoying parents and you get hot dads and famous athletes hitting on you out left and right. Like leave some for the rest of us girl, it’s not fair.”

Even though I’d shot Vince a quick text so he could have my number as well, I never really expected anything more than his response that he’d saved it.

To say I was surprised when he texted me the following week was definitely an understatement. It wasn’t a booty call either, no, he’d texted me in the middle of the day asking if I was working days or nights this week.

Me: days as usual but I’m actually on-call today, got luckyy

Dunner: so you’re home right now?

Okay so perhaps this was a booty call after all. Not that I particularly minded.

While his first response had been pretty fast he took a little longer to answer after I told him that I was home indeed. Laying on the couch in an oversized shirt and yoga pants rewatching some Grey’s Anatomy on to be exactly. Almost the same as working. The rainy weather set the perfect mood for a lazy day in though so I hadn’t moved from my spot ever since returning from the gym this morning.

Dunner: this Chinese place near me has a special two for one offer today and I wanted to bring you some to work

I still wasn’t sure if this was him flirting but I’d also never had somebody I’d only met a week ago offer to bring me food to the hospital so he had to be, right? I sent a screenshot of the message to Rachel but I knew that I couldn’t count on her responding to it anytime soon, seeing as she was actually at work right now. I decided to be forward, telling him that I wouldn’t complain about some good food either way.

Inviting someone who was basically a stranger over to your apartment generally wasn’t exactly the best idea, but I counted on the impression I had of him so far and the reputation he surely had to uphold as a NHL player. Besides, we had lots of medical equipment scattered around the apartment so surely I’d find a syringe or something to defend myself if needed.

Dunner: I’ll be over in 30 so try not to get called in before then

True to his word the bell didn’t ring much later. I’d debated making an effort and changing but I wasn’t about to wear jeans or a skirt to hang out so that didn’t leave many options. Brushing your hair wasn’t nothing either so that counted in my opinion.

Vince had gone through the same train of thought as well apparently because he looked super cozy in some sweatpants and a hoodie that had gotten slightly wet, presumably from his walk from his car to the building as our parking situation was really shitty. He stepped inside and reached up to run his hand through his damp hair before shaking his head, making little droplets of water fly in every direction.

“This is why they don’t allow dogs in here”, I laughed, gesturing to my shirt that now looked like an abstract splash painting.

“Let me make it up to you with some of the best food you’ve ever had because I brought lots” was his response as he lifted the bag of take out while slipping off his shoes by the door, hair now sticking in all directions.

“Alright Dunner, show me what you got”, I said with a wink over my shoulder as I made my way into the kitchen, continuing my bold streak from earlier. I had also learned by now that nicknames were even more important than handshakes as a hockey player. I was pretty sure I’d heard him mumble something along the line of ‘Gladly’ but I was already too far ahead of him to be absolutely certain.

“You’re watching Grey’s Anatomy? Isn’t it like crazy inaccurate?”, he asked with a look at the TV in the living room as I hadn’t bothered to pause the episode.

“Yeah of course it is but I still like it somehow. It’s like the hospital equivalent of bad trash TV shows so it’s kind of my guilty pleasure.”

“Okay give me a quick summary of what I need to know for this episode so we can watch it while we eat.”

I looked at him like he was crazy but he urged me on, looking up at me expectantly from where he’d sat down on the couch. Eventually I gave in, trying to keep explanations as short as possible but even then it took me quite a while to get through, yet Vince never once looked like he was bored. He didn’t lose his interest in it after that either, only looking away from the screen to decide what he was going to eat next, all of the choices delicious just like he promised.

Stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving the both of us stayed unmoved on the couch watching episode after episode. Somehow my legs had ended up on his lap and his hands were resting on my knees, drawing slow circles as we made eye contact from time to time. Every few minutes his hand would inch up a little and with him biting his lip as he did it there was no way I would stop him, any doubts about his intentions long gone by now. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading on my lips as his hand finally reached the top of my thigh, softly kneading the sensitive part on the inside. If I was into hand porn, I would have orgasmed already at the sight of his hands wrapped around my thigh.

“What are you grinning about?”, Vince asked with an easy smile himself, looking at me in a way that told me that Meredith had long lost his attention.

“Just waiting for you to finally make a move.”

“I was trying to be somewhat of a gentlemen but I really can’t help myself with you wearing those pants..”

“Well you seem to be awful at it so don’t be one then”, I teased back feeling confident yet again.

In a flash he had somehow - I’ll probably keep wondering about the details for the rest of my life - managed to lift me up enough to shift me so I was straddling his lap, now turned on by his manhandling and the way he was currently looking up at me. For a second both of us stared at each other, trying to figure out if this was really going to happen. Vince lifted his hand from my hip to my face, slowly pulling me down towards him.

Our lips didn’t even get the chance to connect before my phone started ringing.

I jumped up from his lap, immediately recognizing the ringtone I had set for all work calls and almost kneeing him in the crown jewels in the process. One look at my screen told me that it was an emergency which prompted me to run into my room cursing. I quickly pulled on the pair of scrubs I’d laid out in the morning, one hand still pulling the top down while the other was trying to attach my badge properly by the time I made it back into the living room. Vince hadn’t even moved from the couch yet, eyes wide and legs still comfortably spread apart, a sight that made me want to climb back on top of him but unfortunately I couldn’t do that.

“I’m so sorry but I gotta go, you don’t need to rush though. Feel free to keep on watching if you want but please don’t rob us and make sure the door is closed if you decide to leave after all, it locks automatically. The food was delicious thank you very much and bye!”

I barely heard him saying bye as well before I was already through the door, not really looking forward to spending the next few hours in the chaos that usually came with emergency calls. Especially after how much I’d enjoyed spending time with Vince and how much I wished that we would’ve just skipped all of the testing-the-waters stuff and would’ve just went at it like madmen.

The weekend couldn’t arrive fast enough and by the time it was Saturday I was ready to abandon all of my plans so I could sleep the rest of the day. I’d gotten in late last night after working overtime and I probably would have stayed in bed till noon if it wasn’t for Rachel and Mariah bursting into my room at nine in the morning. At least they didn’t wake me at the crack of dawn and the cake they were carrying to my bed looked pretty delicious as well.

“Look at you, another year older and yet still sexy as fuck”, Rachel exclaimed as she hopped onto the bed beside me after they’d finished their horrible rendition of Happy Birthday. Mariah settled on the other side of me and I guess my friends knew me well enough because we didn’t move from that position except to grab some more food and booze until it was time to get ready for tonight. Best roommates ever.

“You need to look extra hot tonight, I want Vince to lose his shit when he sees you.”

Ever since I’d sent the screenshot to Rachel and told her about the couch situation, she had been on my back about the thing. Something about me needing to bag rich hot athletes for her sake. I didn’t even argue with her anymore, only rolling my eyes in sync with Mariah whenever she brought it up.

To my surprise Vince hadn’t been deterred by my hasty exit a few days ago, something that had definitely surprised me. It wasn’t the first time that my job had cockblocked me and it definitely won’t be the last and I’d met more than my fair share of guys who were absolutely not into that at all. The fascination with nurses died really fast once people realized how much time we spent on the job.

Vince and I had texted constantly since he spent the day with me and he had somehow managed to make casual conversation with a flirty undertone the entire time. We’d already established that neither of us was looking for anything serious right now but I had decided that I would definitely not say no to some fun with him.

Some birthday sex would be great for starters. I let Rachel curl my hair while I focused on perfecting my make up because I wanted to look good tonight, not just for Vince but also because by next weekend I’d already be packed so this was really my last big hurrah before moving back home.

The thing about spending most of my days make up free in sports bras, comfortable panties and running shoes was that if I did bother to go out, I put in a lot of effort. I was determined to turn heads tonight so I pulled on a black lace bodysuit that practically presented my boobs on a silver tray, a pair of jeans that made my ass look spectacular and some black stilettos that I hoped wouldn’t kill my feet in a few hours. I had to go braless under the bodysuit, the mesh part on the back making that very obvious and I had a feeling that Vince wouldn’t exactly mind either.

“Girl I’d totally bang you because you look so hot but that outfit shows off everything that’s wrong with you”, Rachel said as we all examined ourselves one last time in front of the full-length mirror in my room and took pictures. I shot her a confused look.

“Wait what’s wrong with me?”

“Well for one your ass looks bangin and so do your boobs and I’m pretty sure that I could tell if you had a dick wearing that and people with dicks are my type soooo..”, she trailed off and both Mariah and I turned towards her with an incredulous look before bursting out laughing, all the day drinking taking its toll already. It wasn’t exactly new for Rachel to stop making any sense once she had some alcohol in her but it was still just as entertaining every single time.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about her not having a dick right now”, Mariah sighed and I couldn’t stop giggling at my idiotic friends.

“I’m not complaining! I’m just saying that I need a dick to-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Just – just for once in your life be at least somewhat normal please”, Mariah interrupted her exasperated and the both of them continuing to bicker still had me laughing by the time we climbed into the back of our Uber.

We were the last to arrive of course, because Rachel had insisted on us being fashionably late so by the time we made it inside the bar I could already spot my friends sitting in the back. She had also insisted on me wearing a stupid Birthday Girl sash, reminding me how many free drinks it would get me, but I drew the line at the tiara she had pulled out of her purse as well. I was too old for the full 21st birthday look after all.

After I was hugged by everyone and had received all of the birthday wishes and presents I realized that Vince wasn’t among the group, which was weird because we’d been texting all day and he had asked to confirm the time and place again just this morning.

It was as if my thought made him appear because soon I felt two hands gently grab my waist while his cologne infiltrated my senses. He spun me around and the force of the move had me reach out to rest my hands on his shoulders so I wouldn’t fall over. I knew he had done that on purpose.

We were standing so close that we would have definitely gotten in trouble if this were a middle school dance and the way he looked down at me right now made me curse everything that came to my mind because I just wanted to drag him to the nearest bathroom so he could bend me over the counter but of course that wouldn’t be acceptable in front of all my friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me that today is your birthday? Now I’m going to have to make up for the fact that I didn’t get you a present.”

I had a feeling that I wouldn’t mind whatever this making up entailed, if the way he tightened his grip while looking at me as if he was thinking about bathroom counters as well was any indicator.

“Because you don’t just tell people that it’s your birthday, that’s weird.” He pulled me even tighter then, wrapping his arms around me and wishing me a happy birthday after giving me a kiss on the cheek that gave me goosebumps. Before he had the chance to pull away however, I leaned up on my tippy toes because even with heels he was still taller than me and whispered “I can’t wait for the making up for it part though” in his ear.

He groaned in response and he dropped his hands to give my hips a squeeze before reluctantly letting go of me. Only now did I spot the two guys behind him that were all watching us with amused expressions, which had to be the friends he said he’d bring. Introductions were quick and I didn’t even bother to introduce everyone to Vince and his gang because the group was so big that the three of them wouldn’t be able to remember many names either way.

We settled into one of the booths and Rachel practically pushed me into the seat next to Vince, not that I minded of course. Conversation flowed easily, as did the drinks, and soon I found myself climbing out of the booth because I had just about consumed my body weight in liquid and desperately needed to go to the bathroom for something that unfortunately wasn’t sex. Walking over I could feel a slight buzz already but not to the extent that would make me stumble in my heels, perfect for a night out.

By the time Mariah and I returned I could tell that another one of Rachel’s plans was in action because now there was one more person sitting at our table, meaning there wasn’t enough space left for both Mariah and I. I was about to move to sit with some other friends in the booth next to ours when Vince, who was conveniently seated at the edge of our booth, told me to sit on his lap and that was an offer I would never turn down.

He grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his lap as he said: “Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

I couldn’t resist messing with him though, so I purposefully shifted closer to his crotch and leaned towards him so only he could hear me as I whispered: “What if I want you to though?” I could tell he was trying to suppress a groan and he gripped me even tighter, pulling me back into him.

Poor Vince, his balls were going to be the same color as a Blues jersey soon enough.

Unfortunately I couldn’t elaborate to make the situation even worse for him because I was being pulled into the conversation at the table. I could feel him growing hard underneath my ass though and the fact that I was able to rile him up so easily really did wonders for my self-confidence..

After I could tell that he had calmed down again I decided to put him out of his misery. Well, kind of. Me leaning across one of the pool tables as I took my shot gave him a perfect view of my cleavage or of me bending over after all, depending on where he stood.

“Are you always this bad?”, I asked after he missed yet another shot.

“No, usually I’m average at least but I guess I’m a little bit distracted right now.” He didn’t even try to hide him staring at my boobs as I took my turn. We’d both long dropped any pretense about where this was headed. After I made my shot I walked around the table to get a better angle for the next one, accidentally brushing up against Vince who now had a perfect view of my ass.

“I hope you’re only average at pool and not at anything else”, I teased him with a look over my shoulder after watching the ball roll into the hole the way I’d planned before straightening up again.

“Let me take you home so my neighbors can confirm me being anything but average”, he responded, his voice deep as he moved next to me, one of his big hands resting on my lower back to play with the fabric there, the heat of his hands practically burning my skin as I looked up at him.

Our intense eye contact was interrupted by one of the waitresses who walked up to the pool table sheepishly with a drink on her tray.

“Hey, that guy over there sent you this and I’m supposed to tell you to come over to him so you don’t have to, uh, keep playing with a - um - loser. His words not mine, sorry.” She pointed to a guy a few tables over who was decently good looking but radiated Asshole Energy off of him, his incredibly rude move not really helping either. Even if it wasn’t for Vince standing next to me I wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole.

Vince had tensed up at the words and I watched him ball his hands into his fists, every muscle in his body tightening with anger. I had no doubt that because of his hockey experience he could hold his own in a fight but it wasn’t something I needed tonight. I thanked the waitress before setting the drink down and making a show of turning towards Vince, one hand trailing up from his biceps to the back of his head so I could interrupt the stare off he was currently having with the other guy.

“Don’t worry, I’m flattered that I seem to be able to distract you so much. To be honest I can’t really concentrate either because now I really want you to make me scream so loud that your neighbors file noise complaints.” Vince choked slightly and then reached for the drink that was sitting next to me, taking three big gulps while looking at me, his eyes dark.

He then grabbed my hand and I didn’t miss the smug look he threw at the other guy over my shoulder before pulling me towards the backdoor of the bar, the pool game abandoned without a second thought. The air outside had cooled down a bit by now but I didn’t even get the chance to acknowledge that because Vince had me pushed against the wall in a second, one hand resting next to my head while the other reached up to cup my face, dropping his head for a kiss.

All this teasing had finally led to this.

It was rough and yet sensual at the same time, his lips demanding and it didn’t take long until his tongue licked along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. He then deepened the kiss even further and I reached up to bury my hands in his stupidly perfect and soft hair, eliciting a throaty groan. When he pushed one of his legs in between mine I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me in turn at the delicious friction, followed by yet another one as he dropped his head to suck along my neck. I could feel how hard he was and it turned me on beyond imagination.

The thought that I would probably let him fuck me in this alley right now brought me back down to earth because this was not how I envisioned my night going.

“Vince, hold up”, I murmured and as soon as my words registered with him he pulled away, both of us panting.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed at his expression, he looked at me as if he was truly worried that he’d overstepped a boundary. As if I hadn’t thrown hints left and right for the last couple of days. His swollen lips made it hard to concentrate because I just wanted to sink my teeth into them until he groaned again the way he had only seconds ago and I silently cursed his stupid perfect lips. I wondered what damage they could do.

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing at all. I just wanted to say let’s go back inside for like another hour or so and then we can take off.” The smile that quickly spread on his face made it obvious that he was going to say something not-PG-13 before he opened his mouth again to ask:

“Do you think your friends would mind if I dragged you home right this second?”

I had to laugh at that but it quickly died in my throat as he moved his hands to my hips to pull me close again before crashing his lips back onto mine. The going back to the others part would apparently be slightly delayed but with the way his lips and body moved against mine right now I would probably agree to anything if it meant getting to stay right in this position a bit longer.

This time it was less rushed and frantic and instead he took his time to explore every inch of my mouth while his hands wandered my body. Mine were roaming as well, from the neck down his muscular shoulders around to the front before finally creeping up his back below his shirt. I enjoyed the way I could feel his muscles tense under my touch but eventually we had to pull away from each other. We’d spent way too much time out here as it is.

“Let’s go back inside, the faster we get back the sooner we can leave and besides they’re probably wondering what we’re doing out here so long.”

The smug looks we received once we made our way back to the tables after I fixed my hair and make up and Vince did whatever he had to do to conceal his massive hard on made it clear that everyone had a good idea of what had gone on outside though. I’m pretty sure Rachel would have high fived me if it weren’t for the people sitting between us.

I sat on Vince’s lap again and this time it was torture for the both of us to wait until it was finally an acceptable time to make a getaway. I let Rachel take all the presents for me and she made Vince give her his address and phone number before she let him pull me into the back of an Uber.

I was pressed against him for the entire ride, his hand resting way higher on my leg than technically publicly acceptable. With every turn or bump in the road he accidentally brushed my core and at more than one point I had to hide my face in his broad chest so the driver wouldn’t hear the soft moans that couldn’t be stopped. I could tell that he was trying his best not to get too handsy as not to cause a scene but once we were alone in the elevator of his building all bets were off.

He walked me back against the doors, pushing one of his legs in between my own again and kissed me with a force that made me glad that I had tons of metal behind me as leverage to push back. He only pulled away once the little ‘ding’ could be heard and even then he only held off until he had me inside his apartment, barely waiting a second before he shrugged off his jacket, quickly moving onto mine.

Somehow we managed to make it onto the couch without breaking apart our kiss and I barely had time to admire his floor to ceiling windows before he pulled me close until I was straddling his lap. His lips were working on my neck again and I reminded him to not leave any marks there because I had to work on Monday morning, which only prompted him to move down lower, sucking at the skin right above the lace of my bodysuit.

“No one will see those then”, he murmured against my breasts and I moaned as he reached up to palm them through the material. By the time he was done I had several purple marks littering my cleavage and I really needed to see more of him so I motioned for him to take his shirt off, watching in awe as he reached back to pull it over his head in the perfect way only guys managed to.

His body could only be described as a work of art and I could tell that he worked really hard for it as I traced the outline of his abs, muscles contracting and goosebumps rising at my touch. The city lights made for the perfect lighting and the way his skin glowed in their reflection belonged in a museum if ever captured.

Vince reached for the button of my jeans and looked at me as if to ask if I was okay with that. I nodded before standing up, trying to get out of my jeans and heels in a quick but still somewhat sexy motion but I probably succeeded only halfway. He didn’t seem deterred by my struggle at all, the hungry look in his eyes never once vanishing.

As soon as I stood upright again Vince reached up to trace the lace embellishments, slowly moving his hands down lower towards where I really wanted them. Considering the fact that the bodysuit had already been pretty revealing in itself there wasn’t really much ‘new’ skin to see so far but he still looked at me with an intensity that almost made me shiver.

He reached to pull me down on him again but instead I surprised him by sinking down to my knees in front of him, his breath audibly hitching in his throat. For a second he was silent but as soon as I poked my tongue out to trace the ‘V’ on his lower stomach he let out a low moan, throwing his head back.

“Impatient much?”, I teased him, pleasantly surprised at my ability to make him almost lose his shit without even really doing anything.

“You have no idea. I’ve thought about this for days”, he admitted and I only smiled in return, moving to pull his jeans down along with his boxers without revealing that I had done the same. He got up to step out of both while I was focused on watching his dick bounce with the movement, amazed at the size of it.

As soon as he made himself comfortable again I grabbed the base with one hand while resting the other one on his thigh as I moved to lick the drops of precum that adorned the tip. When my tongue made contact he moved one of his hands into my hair, holding it back so he could get a better view.

“Fuck, you look so good like this”, he cursed when I finally wrapped my lips around him, taking the head into my mouth while swirling my tongue around him and taking him a bit further. I removed my lips and I could tell he was about to protest but any words died in his mouth when I started sucking his balls, reaching up to pump his length that was already slick from my spit with my hand.

He seemed to find his voice again once I licked up the underside of his dick but it was only a string of curses that turned into moans when I took him into my mouth as far as I could, my nose touching his pelvic bone. I relaxed my throat and swallowed around him, my name falling from his lips again and again as I reached up to massage his balls at the same time. I looked up to see him watching me with his pupils blown, hair sticking in all directions from running his hands through it so many times and his mouth slightly open. His arms were spread out beside him on the back of the couch and I wanted to take a picture to commemorate the moment, wanting to remember this forever. He had definitely never looked better and no one could convince me otherwise.

The hand in my hair helped me set a rhythm as I bobbed my head while licking around him and Vince was a moaning and cursing mess above me. It didn’t take long before he quite literally pulled me off him, running his hand across his face and taking a few calming breaths.

“You’re incredible but I don’t want to cum yet”, he finally murmured when he helped me back up and I wasn’t sure if he was only complimenting my blowjob-skills or more but the way he was looking at me right now made any thought besides wanting him inside me disappear.

“Vince I need you”, I practically begged and he quickly nodded before standing up with me still in his lap, reaching out to grab the back of my thighs to prevent me from slipping down. He somehow managed to walk up the stairs with me still wrapped around him while I trailed kisses along his collar bones and it was probably the hottest non-sexual thing I’d ever experienced with a guy.

He turned on a soft light once inside his room and while I would have loved to have a look around I was pretty distracted by the way he literally threw me on the bed before crawling on top of me, my legs falling apart to make space for him as if it was the most natural thing on earth.

Vince kissed down my breasts before suddenly stopping somewhere above my belly button.

“Okay I have to admit I’m a bit lost here, as hot as you look in it how the fuck do I get this thing off?” I probably shouldn’t laugh in such a somewhat serious situation but his helpless expression did nothing to stop the giggles that escaped my mouth. He was smiling as well and I was glad that we could laugh about the slight hiccup without it turning awkward.

I quickly reached down to snap open the buttons before sitting up and pulling the piece of lace over my head, discarding it in some corner of his room now completely naked.

“Much better”, he murmured, one of his hands reaching out to grab a hold of my boobs while the other one wrapped around my back, lowering us back onto the mattress. Eventually he trailed his kisses over the part of my skin that was marked up by him until he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his hand taking care of the other one.

Slowly but surely he kissed his way down my body, skipping over the part where I needed him most to suck along the inside of my thighs. The sensation rushed through me, my core already throbbing from days of built up expectations and I let out a whine. I was tempted to try and close my legs so I could at least get some kind of friction but his shoulders between them made that impossible.

“Patience baby, don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”, he murmured and I shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning across my heat. I didn’t even have the time to think about the fact that he had just called me baby or that I was actually a firm believer in good things happening to those who worked for them because he reached down to drag one of his fingers through my folds and all thoughts left my body.

“Shit, you’re so wet already”, he said softly but I was unable to give him any response besides a frantic nod and another desperate whine.

I’d fantasized about this for the last couple of days of course but nothing came close to the reality of one of his thick fingers dipping into my core. He teased my entrance for a bit, only pushing inside to his first knuckle but then I whined again and he pushed it in as far as he could. I was so lost in the feeling that I hadn’t even noticed him moving back up my body until he littered the valley between my breasts with heated kisses.

“So tight. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

As if the words he’d moaned into my ear weren’t already enough to make any coherent thoughts disappear, he added a second finger and I arched my back into him, the change of angle just right in a way that had me gripping the sheets so tightly that my knuckles turned white. He reached dropped down to tease my nipples, sucking and licking them expertly while his hand thrust up into me.

My moans were already filling the room but then he started circling my clit with his thumb and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer, the anticipation and desperation definitely helping to speed things along. He looked up at me to watch my reactions and the sight of him with his mouth latched onto my breast was almost enough to send me over the edge by itself.

“I’m so close Vince, please don’t stop”, I begged and this seemed to spur him on further, his movements turning even more eager as he continued to place sloppy kisses along my skin. It was the combination of everything he was doing to me that finally brought me over the edge, the release so sweet after needing it for so long.

He made sure to extend my orgasm as long as possible, only pulling his hand away after I whimpered slightly, the stimulation a bit much now. His softly kissed his way back down and along my thighs now and I could tell that he wasn’t quite done with me yet.

“How’s the birthday girl feeling right now?”, he asked with a teasing smile and normally I probably would have smacked him for this but right now I would tolerate it because I was still in my blissful post-orgasmic state.

“Amazing so far, could do better though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m pretty sure I was promised some making up for the lack of a present and I don’t think we’ve reached that point yet.”

“Well excuse me then while I go back to work.” And with that he flattened his tongue and boldly licked one long stripe across my slit.

He started out slowly and I was glad because I was still a bit sensitive from my last orgasm, lapping at my entrance and pushing his tongue inside of me, making me gasp. It didn’t take long however until he grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his mouth, pushing my legs up to expose me even further to him and ultimately giving him better access.

When he sucked my clit into his mouth I couldn’t help but arch my back off the mattress again, burying my hands in his hair as he reached up to hold me still. This guy’s lips weren’t just pretty, they were apparently amazingly talented as well.

He replaced his tongue with one of his thick fingers, slowly pushing in and soon his name fell off my lips in a religious chant as he added yet another one, curling them upwards for maximum pleasure. I could feel my high coming from a mile away and Vince apparently must have too by the way I was grinding myself against his face because he quite literally dove back in, determined to shatter my word.

And shatter my world he did.

I was pretty sure I would have floated away as I reached my high if it wasn’t for Vince’s hand across my stomach keeping me grounded. My legs were still shaking with the aftershocks of one of the arguably - no hands down - best orgasms I’d had while getting head in my life. By the time I was finally able to open my eyes again he was wiping his face before grinning down at me.

“You look so fucked out already and we haven’t even gotten to that part yet”, he teased and I let out a chuckle before pushing at his chest. Leave it to him to make fun of me after he was the one who put me in this situation. Not that I was complaining of course.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good look on you. One that I’d definitely like to see more often.” He leaned down to nip at my neck then, his cock prodding at my thigh.

“If you keep doing that you definitely will”, I responded with an airy laugh, still kind of breathless. All talk died down after that however when he captured my lips with his again as he crawled on top of me, settling between my legs. Kissing him was definitely addicting and the fact that I could taste myself while doing so only made it ten times more hot.

Vince rolled his hips against mine, groaning into my mouth when his cock dragged against my skin while I couldn’t stop the moan escaping my lips either. Breaking the kiss he pulled back in a way that had him in a push-up position above me, giving me a moment to enjoy the view. His hair was sticking in all kinds of directions, his pupils so blown that they almost seemed black instead of the usual beautiful green and his muscles were flexing from holding the position.

“Still want to keep going?”, he asked and in my daze it took me a second to realize that this was him asking for consent. I had no doubt that he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to but this, him offering to stop when he had done so much for me already while not getting off yet in return, was sweet. Especially since I had made it more than obvious that stopping was definitely not on my mind.

I moved to flip us over then, straddling his thighs and wrapping my hand around his dick, pumping him a few times and in case that wasn’t confirmation enough for him I leaned down to whisper a “definitely” in his ear.

“Condoms?”

“Top drawer on your right.”

Only because we weren’t in the middle of his huge bed was I able to reach said drawer, grabbing one of the foil packets out of the box and ripping it open with my teeth before rolling it down on him. I scooted up enough to line his cock with my entrance and while I tried to watch Vince as I sunk down on him the way my eyes fluttered shut at the sensation was out of my control.

While there had definitely been enough foreplay to make the sliding in part easy it was still quite a stretch, one so amazing however that it had the both of us moaning at the same time.

“Shit you feel incredible”, he breathed and I nodded my head in agreement, too lost in the pleasure to form any coherent sentences. Rolling my hips against him created some amazing friction that had my head spinning as I clenched my muscles, eliciting throaty groans from him.

Vince reached for my hips, gripping them tightly as he helped guide me along, my clit catching on his pelvic bone with every backward movement. “You got one more in you babe?”, he asked and to my surprise I could tell that I did. The fact that I could already feel it bubbling inside of me spoke volumes of our chemistry in bed together. This was a friends with benefits arrangement I could definitely get behind.

He sat up then, changing the angle at which his cock dragged against my walls and also making it possible for him to take one of my nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth against it while tightening his grip on my hip as he thrust up into me. At this point I was a moaning mess on top of him but I honestly didn’t care. I hadn’t had sex this good in a while and the way he looked up at me in awe made it impossible to feel anything but sexy.

I didn’t even need any extra help to reach my third orgasm of the night with his name falling off my lips, the feeling so strong that my mind was absolutely blank and I saw stars dancing across the back of my eyelids as I arched into him with my eyes shut. He made sure to let me ride it out, groaning as he felt my walls tighten around him but as soon as I slumped against him he turned us around so he was on top of me, never once pulling out.

The pace at which he was chasing his own high now was relentless and hard and I would have held on for dear life if he hadn’t raised my arms to keep them above my head. One of his hands easily encased both of my wrists while he used his other to keep at least some of his weight off of me. I knew that a fourth orgasm was off the table, I was way too exhausted for that by now but he still felt amazing inside of me. I wrapped my legs around him to allow him deeper, the smack of our skin and our moans so loud that I was glad that we didn’t have any nosy roommates right next door. Those noise complaints from the neighbors I’d mentioned earlier might still roll in though.

With this pace it didn’t take long for his thrusts to lose all rhythm and I could tell that he wouldn’t last much longer. I clenched around him to bring him even closer and he groaned into the crook of my neck where he had buried his face, my name and some colorful curses falling off his lips. He readjusted his position so he could lean up enough to look at me while still holding my wrists above my head and I watched him throw his head back in pleasure as he slammed deep inside of me one last time, face contorting in pleasure as he reached his high. I could feel him pulsing inside of me and a pleasant shudder ran through me, making me sigh at the feeling. Perhaps this was my body’s way of saying girl if I could have, I would have.

He let go of my wrists then and I wrapped my arms around him as he dropped down on top of me. We both caught our breath for a few seconds which honestly wasn’t easy with the extra weight on my chest but it was a nice feeling. He had to carefully pull out and roll off of me eventually, throwing the condom next to the bed to dispose of later. For now it was nice to lay beside each other, covered in a sheen of sweat and still panting.

After finally landing back on planet earth I looked to my right at the alarm clock waiting on the nightstand, only now realizing how late it had gotten. Vince lifted his head enough to check the time as well and let out a light groan at the sight.

“You can spend the night if you want but we should definitely shower before that. Even if it wasn’t your birthday – well technically it’s not anymore – I’m not some dick that would kick you out in the middle of the night.”

I was surprised at his offer, I’d been with guys who were those dicks but I was even more surprised when he told me to pick something to sleep in from his closet before pulling on a pair of boxers and getting up to grab waters for the both of us.

I decided to postpone this until after showering, quickly making my way to his ensuite to use the toilet. I saw enough UTIs at work, I didn’t need them following me home. I was trying to wipe my make up off as best as I could with a washcloth and the face wash from his counter when he returned to his bathroom, a new toothbrush triumphantly in his hand.

“Found this in my junk drawer in the kitchen but I’ll be honest, I have no idea how it got there. The wrapping is unopened tho”, he admitted sheepishly and I laughed.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.”

Our shower was quick, both of us too exhausted for any more funny business but if my gaze had dropped from time to time appreciatively no one would ever know. He had an amazing body and I would have to be a nun not to acknowledge that.

Especially while he was naked in the shower.

I definitely wasn’t a nun.

Looking for clothes to sleep in turned out to be more difficult than I’d originally thought because of his affinity to clothes that were at least one size too big. Most of them would reach my knees in a really unflattering way and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep while drowning in fabric. I tried on three, neatly putting them back afterwards and actually contemplating sleeping in only a pair of his boxers before finally finding one that didn’t make me look like a kid.

I could tell that it was an old shirt, perhaps from a previous team, worn down over time with a slightly faded print but it was comfortable and it smelled like him, even if I doubted that he had worn it anytime recently.

Vince was already tucked into bed by the time I stepped back into his bedroom, scrolling through his phone but putting it down on the nightstand once I got closer. I could see that he’d searched for a second charger so I could plug my phone in overnight as well and it was such a little gesture but yet it made me smile.

“I prefer to sleep on the right side, I hope you don’t mind”, he said as I climbed under the cover beside him. I shook my head no before responding:

“Nah, I actually like the left side better.”

“See, we’re meant to be fuck buddies.”

“I could already tell from the three orgasms but hey, if that’s what it takes for you to realize that.”

“You have a point there.”

Any other time and I certainly would’ve stayed up for a while longer so we could talk but right now I knew I wouldn’t last long. For a second I wasn’t sure how to do this, would it be weird to cuddle?

Vince made my decision easy however when he pulled me close until my back was flush against him, wrapping his arm around my waist. After our exhausting shenanigans earlier it took neither of us long to fall asleep.

The next morning I woke super early, my inner clock not allowing me to sleep past seven despite staying up late. I’d turned around in my sleep to lay on my stomach but Vince had somehow managed to keep his arm around me and get even closer.

I was slightly worried for my safety because of the fact that I had managed to sleep through a 200 pound guy basically laying on top of me but I’d slept like a baby. I could tell that Vince was still asleep by the even breaths that fanned across my neck but one part of him definitely wasn’t, poking my side. Bless the male population for their sleepy boners.

I was trying to let him sleep as long as I could, I really did, but with him so close to me and the images of last night combined with the very interesting dream I’d just woken up from burned into my memory I couldn’t help myself. I slowly turned in his arms so we were back to the position we’d fell asleep in, on our sides and pressed together spooning.

Even through my shirt I could feel his body radiating heat and if the night had been warmer it definitely would’ve been too much but right now I just wished for all barriers between our bodies to disappear.

My shifting had apparently woken Vince up successfully because he let out a throaty groan before, consciously or not, rocking against my ass and burying his face in my neck.

“Morning”, he said and I’m not gonna lie his husky morning voice did things to me that didn’t exactly help my situation.

“Morning, how’d you sleep?”, I asked, turning my head slightly so I wasn’t having this conversation with his incredibly comfortable pillow.

“Could’ve been longer but I don’t mind. Now that I’m up however..”, he trailed off, lightly biting my neck and moving his hand from my waist to grab my boob, rocking into me again, this time definitely on purpose.

This was definitely a friends with benefits situation I could get behind.

Somehow Vince managed to weasel his way into my life after that. He’d come over after I finished a shift at the hospital, spend the night and leave me incredibly satisfied the next morning when both of us went our separate ways again. Our time with each other was pretty short, only a week, but somehow I’d had more sex in that one week than in the last few months combined.

My last shift at the hospital on Saturday was, for a lack of better words, sad as fuck. So many people came up to me, telling me how much they would miss me and what a great addition I had been over the past year. When they brought a cake into the break room with a sweet message written on top of it I couldn’t help the tears that welled up. I could see Rachel subtly wipe at her eyes as well and I hugged her tightly.

“Remember our first day of classes? Oh how things have changed since then”, she muttered against me and I nodded. One thing that hadn’t changed however was our friendship. She was the reason I had come to Toronto, where she had grown up but it had been five years since I left my home to go to college and I knew that it was time to go back to my family and childhood friends.

“Don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me this soon, I’ll call you all the time and with there only being a one hour time difference between Toronto and St. Louis you have no excuse to avoid me.”

“As if I could ever avoid you, you little shit. But if your hometown insists on having you back I’ll allow it, I guess.” Her insulting me told me that she was okay again so I let go of her, the both of us still sniffling a bit as we each grabbed a piece of the cake.

When I finally made my ay back home that night Vince was already there. Mariah had probably let him in. There’s been some raised eyebrows at first but after seeing him here every day neither of my roommates was surprised when he knocked at our apartment door. Somehow he seemed to sense that I wasn’t in a talking mood right now, especially about having to say goodbye to the place that had been my home for the past year.

I was excited to see my family and friends in St. Louis again, don’t get me wrong, but goodbyes were never easy.

He greeted me with one of his comforting hugs that I’d already grown accustomed to before dropping his head to press a soft kiss on the top of my head before pulling me to the bathroom.

My shampoo and other toiletries were some of the last few things that hadn’t been stuffed in boxes and duffel bags yet and the sight made tears well up in my eyes.

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t like leaving here either”, he murmured in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, moving us so we both got hit by the stream of hot water. I wanted to forget everything but the feel of his naked body pressed against me but right now I knew I was too in my head to actually be able to enjoy it. Later maybe.

“But you get to come back every summer for a couple of months. I don’t know how long it’ll take until I can visit everyone again and even then it’ll probably only be for a few days.”

“That’s true. But your friends can also visit you. And in a few weeks I’ll be down as well and then you’ll be so annoyed by me constantly bugging you that you won’t be able to miss your friends here anymore.” My sniffle turned into a laugh at his words and I almost swallowed a big gulp of water in that moment, making both of us break into fits of laughter.

I was glad I’d have him with me again in a few weeks. Hopefully at least. We’d talked about our situation and I told Vince to hit me up again once he’d made it to St. Louis too in a few weeks and while he said he would, I knew that there was the possibility that he might not. I didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the thought too long though because he’d managed to distract me yet again when he placed searing hot kisses along my shoulder.

If he hadn’t managed to get me out of my shell back in the hospital I never would’ve ended up with him in the shower right now. Or bent over the mattress a few minutes later.

Vince Dunn, the arrogant professional athlete, had turned out to be nothing like I’d expected and I had never been more happy to be wrong.

#Vince Dunn #nhl #nhl hockey #vince dunn imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #my writing #clear as day #hockey imagine

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Until Forever - Sirius Black

Hey you beautiful people! Last chapter of Part I.

MASTERLIST I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X |XI | XII | XIII

Chapter 14. 1978.

Darkness was infinite and pain would linger on forever. There was no hope; hope was the biggest illusion human kind had manufactured in order to keep going when there was absolutely no fucking point. A black void was everything that ever was; nothing more that the absolute nothing. She felt weightless, as if the waves of the raging black sea could tear her to pieces, throw her to the rocks. Then, she felt as heavy as the universe – drowning in the mere thought of water. Her body felt tired, her mind was restless; not in a good way. She though that life went on but to her, that was the saddest part of it all. It could end two ways, both equally tragic. Either she would die amongst the rest or she would live. She didn’t know what worse. Truly, never having the chance to see her family again or staying behind? Her entire body got goosebumps and her hands were trembling. She had tried to drink her problems away, just for a few hours, but it only made her sadder, lonelier. Until she left. She wasn’t celebrating – she couldn’t celebrate the new year. Each passing second, fate was approaching them, faster than she had ever realized. Usually, it was the past that made people sad; well, she was the exception to that as well. She really wanted to go home, for this to be over, to give up Hogwarts and magic and the people. She just wanted her home back, her life, her choices – the ability to choose. She was making a run for it. After half an hour of pretending, she said her goodnight, only to few people – well, to the Potters. She couldn’t deal with questions and avoided them like bullets. Once the doors closed behind her, all the silence of the world crushed upon her; and it was louder than the loudest sound. It was suffocatingly loud. Refusing to go back inside, she climbed to her room, kicking her heels off, before even closing the door. A soft tune was stuck in her mind and the Greek poem that accompanied it – the moonlight sonata.

Let me come with you.

This house can’t bear me anymore.

I cannot endure to bear it on my back.

You must always be careful, be careful,

to hold up the wall with the large buffet

to hold up the table with the chairs

to hold up the chairs with your hands

to place your shoulder under the hanging beam.

And the piano, like a closed black coffin. You do not dare to open it.

You have to be so careful, so careful, lest they fall, lest you fall. I cannot bear it.

Let me come with you.

This house, despite all its dead, has no intention of dying.

It insists on living with its dead

on living off its dead

on living off of the certainty of its death

and on still keeping house for its dead, the rotting beds and shelves.

Let me come with you.

Oh, are you going? Goodnight. No, I won’t come. Goodnight.

I’ll be going myself in a little. Thank you.

She softly spoke the words to the still air as she was looking outside of her window, a wave of nostalgia crushing to her like a tsunami. She was deep into her thoughts, into her world of roses, poems, stardust and a serene chaos. She felt at peace in the midst of a hurricane, within dramatic lines, written by poets with elegant noses and strong beliefs. The music kept repeating memories, stirring them up as it went on. She didn’t want a happy ending, she sadly realized; she wanted tragedy, passion and catastrophe; she wanted everything and nothing. She wanted absolution. Just like every heroine in the ancient tragedies; it was in her nature. He didn’t dare to speak, to make a sound; he held his breath in fear of waking up from the tender dream he was having; a vision right before his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but he felt pulled towards her as if he had no other place to be; as if he was meant to be in her room. She knew that someone was watching her, and she already guessed who but took her time to face with him, with an all-knowing smile. He was caught of guard, trying to retain his posture and temper or he would just turn around and run away for good. Feeling rather ashamed that he got caught, not that he was invading her privacy, he looked at the floor, blushing ever so slightly. She really didn’t mind. How could she? “Do you like it?” she airily asked him, as she remained by the window. He gulped. He knew she was talking about the poem he heard her recite but he couldn’t shake her image, entering the ballroom. Yes, he loved it. “I didn’t know that one” he admitted quite subtly. She wasn’t surprised; it was by a Greek poet and it was an intense portrayal of the subject of loneliness and alienation of the uncommitted individual. The lady in the poem represented that part of the old world, which the poet thought it was condemned to perish with its aristocratic past because of its aversion to adapt and participate in the process of change. She thought that if anyone understood that feeling, was him. “I know” she melodiously informed him. She was enticing and it was hard for him to stay away. Not that he wanted to, in any case. No, he didn’t know which magical poem had stolen her heart but he did know that she was standing under the moonlight, her essence becoming ethereal. How evident it became? She didn’t believe in happiness and that scared him; he could feel for her but even he believed that there has to be a better way, it has to get better. She seemed to contradict him by simply suggesting that there was no point in … well, anything. Such a hopeless wanderer’s soul, she had. She was made from a different material, a nihilist and an idealist, a desperate romantic and a catastrophic pragmatist. How wonderfully vague her outlines were. Maybe it was because she was wearing a gold waterfall for a dress, but he knew better – he just couldn’t stop gawking.; to be fair he was an 18-year-old boy. “Why did you leave so soon?” he asked her without hesitation, as if al the barriers had collapsed under the moonlight. She solely focused on his eyes and he could not avert his gaze. “Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques - I believe it is” she quoted Verlaine and that, he did know. Sad beneath fantastic disguises. Why would she ever feel that way? He was only fooling himself. He was lying, pretending not to feel the way he did, pretending that there was nothing between them, pretending he was happy torturing Marlene, pretending everything was fine and the way they were supposed to be. “Votre âme est un paysage choisi” he quoted back, letting her know that his French was so much better than hers and that he paid attention to the details. He truly did. It was almost inappropriate for her to like him or even to think about how his eyes shined liked spilled mercury under the moonlight. However, the biggest problem was that it was unrequited. He took one step towards her direction, fully aware of the fragile moment they shared. She saw the shift in his eyes and her entire mind was screaming to her to shut up. Everyone else was probably celebrating in the midst of an upcoming war but she was fighting another one all on her own. Keeping secrets from the people whom their fates were sealed and she could not do a thing was becoming heavier by the second and that broke her.

“What – what is really happening here, love?” he questioned her with a slight anger lingering on in his voice – anger that he didn’t know he was experiencing. She was surprised by the very thought of him being angry. He wasn’t angry at her per se, he was really shaken off about not being in the known, having blanks that he had to fill by himself when it should have been her answers instead of his imagination. She wanted to tell him everything and then her mind went to the time he spent in prison for no reason at all, and she swallowed hard. How would she ever be able to come clean about that. Remus was a bit easier – yes, he was still very hurt and shocked and everything in the middle but Sirius… it was always different with him. It was always different when it came to him – she was … “I want to tell you but it’s too much. Please don’t ask me to be honest with you. Not on that level. Anything else, I will answer. Not that” she finally told him. At least, she was acknowledging all the hypocrisy and all the lying, he thought. He wasn’t looking for that answer though, he wanted the real reason behind her entire existence in his life, and so he closed the gap between them. His tall frame was towering over her, her back was pressed to the wall next to the window and his eyes were piercing her face for clues. “No. You don’t get to do that. I have been nothing but honest with you about everything. You don’t get to hide now” he pushed further, making her arch her eyebrow. As he realized that he had overstepped the boundaries, he tried to take a step back but her finger was already poking his chest through his unbuttoned shirt and undone tie. “You? Honest? Really? Is that what you tell yourself before you go to sleep? That you are honest with me? Or that you’re honest with yourself? Because neither - “Fine, what do you want me to say?” he cut her off, revealing his hot temper with a flush that appeared in his face – something she had never seen before and she had to remind herself that this Sirius was not the one from the books. He wasn’t a character anymore; he was a real person – breathing down on her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to create any more tension that what had already been created but he was not having it. He wanted answers, now more than ever, even if he knew that he, himself, had been lying all that time – this was not the same. He was lying about his feelings; she was lying about everything. “Who are you? Who could you possibly be to come here through the fucking sky? To come here and turn everything upside down. To make me question things that I thought I had figured out long ago. To make me jealous of my own best friend and to make me want to destroy every sound thing. Who are you?” he bombarded her with accusations that he wanted figured out now. And all it took was one hot second before she screamed the answers back to him, each hitting like a bullet to his heart, each being louder and louder only to finish off with a dead silence. “You think you are the one suffering? I have been trapped here for too long, I miss my home, my family, my life. I want out. I am done playing a stupid part in this scenario. I know everything. I know how are you going to end up, when, where, who dies, who lives, who fucking betrays – because I came from the sky. The fucking sky. I don’t know how or even who I am anymore. I thought you were a book character and every single thing was only real in my imagination and the pages of seven books. But no. I fucking live in the damn past – not mine. NO. A past from a different possibility. Twenty years before my birth date. And of course, out of every mistake I could possibly make, every choice gone mad, I had to - ”.

Usually, there were two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When people were afraid, they tend to pull back from life, when in love, the open up to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement and acceptance. And while fear was easier, almost natural to them, they knew that they had to step outside their comfort zone. Not finishing off her sentence, leaving it there hanging in the middle of the thick air between them, was her way of giving him space to decide and her a breather. Her mind was yelling at her to stop and think about all those things that actually mattered but not every act was a result of sensibility. Her accusing finger was still on his chest; as a matter of fact, her entire palm was being pressed against his skin – not his shirt anymore. The information was not new to him; he knew, deep down he did. Each night before he would fall asleep, he was trying to decode and figure her out, even just a bit. He was repeating the things she had said during the day, realizing just how much of an insight she had and wondering if it was just that or… It started of small, a few words of more than wisdom were spoken, a few things were said that she could not possibly know about… and the ever-present aura of secrecy. Her tattoos were one thing, her words were another. It wasn’t news to him and she noticed that. Her anger calmed down to a side smile. “But you already knew” she concluded and her touch became gentler against his chest. Gentle as a fire. He looked at her with a desperate look, as if he wanted to do so much, to say so much but couldn’t. Sirius was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a cheater. Instead of pushing her against the wall and kissing her like he had already pictured in his head about a million times, he stepped back and he sat on the bed, eyes always glued to her. “I think I did” he agreed, more to his own mind than to her words. She took a deep breath and used the chair in front of the boudoir, to the left of the big window, facing him while at the same time keeping her distance. “I still don’t think I can tell you everything, Sirius” she softly apologized but he shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s okay if I am the one dying, love, or the one going mad. You will tell when or if you’re ready. I’m sorry for… this” he said, indicating the space between them but she brushed it off. How much longer would she able to keep it hidden from James and Peter, she didn’t know. “Sirius… it’s not that simple. I know what I know from the books. So, basically, from I come from, the dimension and the time period, you, the boys, Hogwarts… magic, everything is fiction and contained within seven books that are not even about you. While these books go on, you are older and have gone through a lot. I know that part. I don’t know if it will happen the way it was supposed to, since I am here and I wasn’t supposed to, I think, but I also can’t change much in this plot. Or even if I can, I don’t know if I should. Messing with time and history is not something I am looking forward to do. Although, if I could change some things, I would without blinking” she admitted, staying as close to the truth as she could, without revealing too much. How could she face him and tell him what was about to happen to him in a few years? He wouldn’t even get to turn her age before Azkaban… and that hit her differently. “I know that there is something dark in the things you are not saying. And I know that I am neither the one who dies nor the one who lives from the way your eyes never met mine when I said it. Maybe the one who goes crazy but not exactly. That’s okay. It would happen either you were here or not. It’s better that you are. I don’t know if it is for you… I cannot imagine the weight of all those things. I am sorry” he told her sincerely. They shared so many things; intuition, depth, passion. And a five-year gap. “So you see, celebrating didn’t feel appropriate” she concluded airily. But he looked at her in a perplexed expression. “On the contrary. We should. Now more than ever. Because after all, we only have this moment, isn’t that so?” he proposed and she was astonished because he was right. He didn’t want to talk about it more, knowing that something bad happened to all of them, and that she didn’t want to say what. He understood her – it was cruel, such disastrous things being delivered by her. She held answers to questions they hadn’t even thought about yet. He could never blame her for not coming forward. Even though he wanted to be her confidant, the one she would spill her heart out he knew that she wouldn’t. Some things were better left unsaid… but…not forever. “You should go back to your friends” she suggested, as she felt worn out, wanting nothing more than to get out of the dress and makeup. “I thought we were friends” he chuckled darkly, earing a fixed glance from her piercing eyes. “Oh Sirius. You and I…we could never be friends” she admitted and there was not a single shy cell in her body. Her entire mind had shut up and every word coming out of her mouth was a sharp slap across his face, hitting him with the truest statement she could have said. He licked his lips and tamed his tongue not to respond the only way he truly wanted to as he got up and buttoned up again, to rejoin the party. “Remus knows?” he asked but it came out as a bold statement. He was jealous he wasn’t the first one to know this, or how her lips felt against his. He shook the image out of his head and focused his eyes one her. She was radiant but she wasn’t fooling anyone – she might have worn a gold dress but she was the moon, dark, secret and almost untouchable. Almost. “He does” she confirmed, realizing just how jealous he could get. She didn’t like possessiveness, mainly because she was the one being possessive in her previous relationships, but with Sirius…she could, perhaps, turn a blind eye. He was unexpected in every way, to her. He was biting his lip, deep in thought. It was tragically doomed and yet he found beauty among the disaster. It was fragile and soft, so tender but raw, catastrophe pouring down at everything. It was problematic – making homes out of people. But he had never felt more at home than with people; his best mates, his school, her. His house never felt like a home and yet he was surrounded by it. And now, a strange feeling washed over his heart. What was he doing, letting her go? He waned to kiss her, without a warning, with permission, without even deciding to do so but simply because he couldn’t think of anything else. He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him and he wanted it back. But there was that small voice, so ever faint, that told him it was not the time nor the place to do so. He had to physically stop from heading towards her rather than the door. And he didn’t know why he stopped. “Love, I…” he started but she gave him a sharp look. “Don’t” she whispered and he left with a heartbreaking look on his delicate features.

She found an excuse not to return to the party. She would find an excuse to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible, otherwise her entire being would implode and no one would even notice. She would just collapse under the pressure of knowledge and no one would even understand how hard her life had suddenly become. She was the girl who wanted to know everything, who went looking for knowledge every place she visited and she had become the girl who wished she didn’t know the future, who was oblivious and blissful, who stayed silent and didn’t challenge the world. It was too early. Too late maybe. No one was partying, no one was in the living room, no one was making any sound. She tiptoed around a bit. The fireplace was livid, calming and consuming at the same time as if it was calling to her. Everything will end up in flames. Not ice, but hellfire. It was the saddest thing she could have thought of. Protecting a breakable heart. What if she got the chance to leave? “Would I?” she whispered to herself. No. And that feeling of knowing that she wouldn’t be able to leave even if she did find a way, that she wouldn’t go back to her own family and her own life, that very feeling made her realize that this was indeed her home, that the people in this reality were her family and that this was her now. And she had to fight for her home and her family. She had to at least try. “We missed you at the party” a soft voice caught her off guard. She took a deep breath. This was it. This hide and seek had to end. Once she turned around, he saw how serious she was and immediately understood that something was off. His eyes were tired but alert, his whole body language was signaling that he was able to grasp the severity of whatever she had to say to him. “There is something I need to tell you but you’ll need to sit down, James”.

__ Taglist: @must-be-a-weasley-92 @megalificent @fific7 @maraudersangel @tb-ctn

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ofclaires · 4 years ago

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IV. CLAIRE WALSH

PAST SELF PARAS: april 2020 / september 2020 / march 2021.

hi, before the read more i just wanted to say THANK YOU. getting to play claire has been absolutely a treat, a challenge, and genuinely, a huge part of my life for the past year and a half or so. it occurred to me when writing this and looking back at other things i’ve written for claire that i didn’t just feel like i was writing this for myself or for claire ; but i was writing it for you guys, too ! that has been one of the most special things about gallagher for me is the writing community that i feel like we built, taking such a huge investment in our characters and everyone else’s writing. i feel like i’m writing with and for some of my best friends. i also feel like i’ve grown so much ( ok, i actually don’t just feel like it, i can look back at those three paras and SEE how my writing has improved. ) i am so blessed to have gotten to write claire with all of you and to share her story, i feel like she has been so fucking beloved & it’s given her so much life. i am so proud of her and it’s really bittersweet that i’m finally saying goodbye to her as well. so, thank you all so, so much, gallagher has been a writing experience like no other for me & i love you all !

trigger warnings : domestic violence & abuse, death

PART ONE: CHILDHOOD.

The trailer that Claire spent the back half of her childhood in never felt like home. Maybe because trailers are made to be temporary, or the fact that if she accepted that this was where she belonged, she’d have to give up hope.

It’s normal Maggie Walsh to be out late, Claire’s usually cleaned up the kitchen and tucked herself into bed by the time her mother comes in the door – but she’s not sleeping. She’s always had trouble with that, brain bouncing around from one thought to the next until eventually she hears the creak of the door.

Her mom’s home.

She hears the usual stumbling, the clatter of dishes falling from where she’d neatly placed them on the drying rack. Maggie’s drunk, Claire’s sure of that. Ten years old and she knows what it means to be so drunk that you can hardly see straight, that the words you say under the influence are a different reflection from the person that you really are. She inhales deeply and crawls out from under the covers to check on her. Ten years old and she knows the steps: Help her take her makeup off, make sure she sleeps on her side, glass of water on the bedside table, trash can on the floor. Maggie is only twenty-six years old herself now, not done with her childhood by the time that Claire was born, not ready to be a mother. Claire’s had to figure it out most of it herself.

“Mom?” Claire knocks on the door lightly, plastic cup full of water already in hand.

“Don’t – don’t come in!” Maggie sputters, and Claire’s confused. She defies her request and opens the bedroom door the rest of the way. When she sees her mom, she drops the cup on the floor, small hands curling into fists.

“What happened? Who did that to you?”

“I told you not to come in here, Claire,” Maggie repeats, but Claire has always been on to disregard commands. She learns at a young age that authority only means older than you or some assigned title, not that they know best.

“Who did that? Why?” She repeats her questions. Despite being mature for her age, it’s hard for Claire to wrap her head around the black eye obscuring Maggie’s face, and the swelling on her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie sighs, dejected as she flops down on the bed. Even in her state, she knows that there’s not much use telling Claire to back off or go away once she’s decided that she’s not going to. Her little girl is a spitfire, strangely enough reminds Maggie a lot of her own mom, like living with a miniature version of her. Maybe that’s why Claire wins most arguments. “Come here.”

Claire walks closer to the bed, kicking the cup aside on her way for no reason other than to kick something. She crawls into bed next to her mom and looks up at her, waiting for more of an explanation or literally anything but silence.

“I don’t know why I keep looking for a happy ending. I leave you home alone, I come home like this...not helping either of us,” Maggie presses a kiss to the top of Claire’s head, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It’s so soft and Claire is so little, she can’t help but look at the spilled cup on the floor with a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she adds, voice choked up and words a little slurred. Tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes when she closes them, hugging her daughter closer, “I’ve blamed you for my fucked up life for so long...that’s not fair.”

Now, Claire is only ten, but those are the kind of words that you remember forever. Still, she smiles. “It doesn’t have to stay fucked up. It can get better,” a childish spark of optimism in her heart that hasn’t yet been put out. It makes Maggie smile back though, kissing her daughter on the top of her head yet again.

“I like that,” she says, and they fall asleep curled up beside each other. Claire sleeps soundly, thinking that it’s possible. Things really could get better, and for a while, it seems like there really is a sort of shift. Maggie starts cooking, cleaning again, and she doesn’t even stay out so late. That’s when she meets Martin.

He seems better than the rest. Until he isn’t.

But Claire does her job as her mother’s protector, just as she’s been doing all of her life, and it’s that event that jumpstarts the rest of everything that happens next.

PART TWO: GRADUATION.

Claire’s come to the formal conclusion that graduation ceremonies are a waste of time. There’s all this build up, everyone’s so excited, and then you have to sit around and wait for your name to be called so you can spend two seconds walking across a stage while everyone claps. She would have skipped it entirely if her mother hadn’t already come up, and if she knew that people were going to insist. The small talk afterward is even more agonizing than the ceremony itself. It is sort of painful saying goodbye to everyone, and it occurs to Claire that there’s more people that she’s going to miss than she ever expected.

“Callum and his mother are here,” Maggie points out.

“And?” Claire rolls her eyes. Seeing Callum again to begin with had brought up a lot of old feelings, and generally, even though they’d resolved things, she tries to avoid him whenever possible.

“Well, it’s probably weird if we don’t say hello, at least, right? I’m going to say hello,” Maggie interjects, “he’s such a sweet boy.”

Claire’s eyebrows rise on her forehead as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then,” she sighs, “I’ll wait right here.”

“Claire,” Maggie draws out her name with a withering stare, but Maggie has never been able to establish that sort of authority with Claire that would prompt any inclination of obedience, so Claire just shrugs her shoulders, unimpressed. She’s not going to budge. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

Claire’s done her best to put the chapter of their life that includes Martin out of her mind when rekindling things with her mother, and she certainly doesn’t want to stand around making small talk with his other ex-wife, trying not to look at Callum with his matching jawline, trying not to remember everything she hates. It all comes back in a flash. The horrible cracking sound that her mother’s head had made when it connected with the wall, the blood on the marble floor. They say you don’t remember trauma properly, that your memory doesn’t work quite right, but she will never forget the way her fist connected with Martin’s face : like a puzzle piece, like it BELONGED there, and she’d done it over and over again until she heard sirens.

And yet, Claire can’t deny that it’s a part of her life that got her here, where she is today. She thinks life is shitty and random, and that not everything has to happen ‘for a reason.’ Still, she’ll catch Kass’s eye across the room and see her smiling so brightly that it seems impossible not to believe in something. Claire can’t help herself anyway – she smiles back. No one has ever been able to produce Claire’s smile in its truest form the way Kass has, unashamed of being so happy to look at someone. She once thought the idea of looking at a person and seeing your whole future was ridiculous, that you’d have to be stupid to put that much of yourself into someone, but it isn’t like that at all. All of it was unintentional, like by the time she realized it, Kass was already everything. And she feels so safe with that thought that she doesn’t mind at all.

“Am I interrupting something?” A figure steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight. She’s not really fond of being snuck up on, so she opens her mouth to say something snarky when she’s met with the gaze of Lisanna Harlin, one of last year’s mentors. Her daughter, Elisa, is there, but she’s not graduating, so Claire’s confused by Lisanna’s presence.

“No, Ms. Harlin,” Claire says, though there’s a spark of indignation in her words that practically goes hand in hand whenever an adult commands authority.

“Lisanna is fine,” she says with a light laugh, like she’s amused Claire’s greeted her this way.

“Can I...help you with something?” Claire asks, mostly curious about how long this interaction has gone on. While she’s friendly with Elisa, she was Kass’s roommate last year, they’re not exceedingly close, so she’s not sure what else Lisanna would have to say to her other than maybe a polite hello.

It’s more than a polite hello. Lisanna Harlin works for Lexon Corp in Durham, North Carolina, a private military company that provides armed guards, bodyguards, and guns for hire. They’re the sort of place that would be looking for the best of the best in combat, and they have a bit of a reputation for hiring Gallagher girls. Claire had given up on the job search months ago since the video went out, in fact, she’s had a job lined up for graduation already : at a boxing gym in D.C., where the scene isn’t too bad. It was suited to her, but not exactly the sort of thing that her Gallagher education had prepared her for. Lexon Corp? Everything her rigorous love of January boot camps were tailored to. And they want to interview her.

A month later, Claire’s sitting on the cusp of a completely fresh start. It wasn’t easy to backtrack on the plans that she and Kass had made together, knowing how much was changing for the both of them, it had been nice to have the stable idea of an apartment together on the horizon. Now, she’s a four hour drive away, and she goes home to her one-bedroom studio in Durham after rigorous training throughout the day. But she’s grateful for the chance to work her way back into the field, and she can remember what Lisanna said to her when they gave her the offer.

“We’re aware that with your history that we’re taking a chance on you, Claire,” Lisanna said. “But we think the reasons that made other agencies look past you are exactly what makes you an asset. You care about your jobs, the people that you’re involved in, and you’d have a partner’s back until the bitter end. You listen to your intuition, trust your gut...and above all else, you have follow-through. I’m excited to be able to offer this position. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Claire swears that she won’t.

PART THREE: KIPTYN.

Kiptyn isn’t supposed to be in the left hall closet.

In fact, he’s not supposed to be awake at all. But who can sleep the night before their birthday anyway? Sure, he’ll be thirteen, and that’s probably old enough to have gotten over the magic of it all, but...he’d still been lying awake with excitement, the anticipation keeping his eyes open for hours on end. Well, that and the video game he’d been playing under the covers, but he’d obviously only been playing it because he couldn’t sleep in the first place.

Then he started thinking about the left hall closet and the conversation that they had at dinner the other night. In Kiptyn’s defense, Dahvia – his younger sister – had totally started it and he was an innocent bystander. After all, Kiptyn’s old enough to know that they don’t bring up Claire to mom, because it just puts her in a mood and then you can forget about doing anything else for the rest of the evening. But Dahvia’s ten, practically a baby, and she doesn’t know any better.

“Hey, mom? What sort of accident did Claire die in? Nina asked me at recess and I didn’t know,” Dahvia pipes up, before she’s even properly sat down. Kip visibly cringes. He’s older, wiser, knows this won’t go well. Still, he dares to look at his mom’s face and he notes the faraway look in her eye, like she seems to experience a bunch of things at once. Kip notices how even though her eyes are glassy, she doesn’t cry. Though sometimes, their mom will just cry randomly, like two weeks ago when he asked for help with his Spanish homework and she couldn’t even help him finish the first worksheet.

“It was a car accident,” she says stiffly, “eat your dinner.”

Kiptyn kicks his sister under the table and flashes her a look that says : Great. Look what you did, ruined dinner. Dahvia sticks her tongue out at him.

So, he knows that he’s not supposed to be in the left hall closet because he could ruin many more dinners, but he’s here anyway. He’s been thinking about it ever since they sat in silence for the rest of that half hour, and he’s come to the conclusion – his mother was lying. Because all sorts of things make their mother cry, like a bowl of mac and cheese or Spanish class, or motorcycles, and she won’t let Kiptyn take boxing lessons though his friend Robert is and he thought it sounded really cool, but she doesn’t have any problem with cars or driving, and also, she’s never told them a single thing about Claire except that. They aren’t allowed to know anything about her, especially not anything true, so Kiptyn is pretty sure that’s a lie. There’s just something just weird about it.

So, in the middle of the night before his thirteenth birthday, he looks up a video on how you pick locks and then he figures it out on the door of the left hall closet. He’s there for at least forty-five minutes, practically ready to give it all up when he hears the clicking sound, and then it opens. His first thought is : Woah. This is a load of junk.

And he’s right. There’s boxes upon boxes of paperwork, old clothes. Some things start to click, like when he finds a pair of worn boxing gloves with Claire’s initials embroidered on them. His favorite thing that he finds is the fattest scrapbook he’s ever seen – his mom always makes them, there’s one for every year of his life. Dahvia’s too, they love looking at them. The cover of this one, though, says Italy 2021. It’s all pictures of his mom and Claire, probably in their early twenties. Kiptyn mostly notices his mother’s smile, how he’s only seen her look like that a couple times in his life and yet it looks so EASY here, like she wears it all the time. It’s so strange to him. He sets the scrapbook down and crawls toward the back of the closet. His eyes land on two leather folders with gold embroidery, and he opens up the first one. In big letters at the top : GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

It’s a diploma.

This certifies that Kassandra Sutton has satisfactorily completed the…

“What are you doing?”

Kiptyn yells out like a child, not having heard anyone creeping up on him. He claps his hand over his mouth as if to shush himself. “The door was open! I don’t know how, but I just...noticed it was open and wanted to make sure that...no one was stealing your stuff!” he grins sheepishly, hoping that he can ride on the high of his birthday week to get him out of this one.

“It was just...open?” his mother looks down at him with raised eyebrows before brandishing a twisted paper clip between two fingers. The one that had formerly been stuck in the door. His guilty expression widens, he can’t help it.

“Okay, I might know how it opened,” Kiptyn admits. He hesitates for a moment, before he realizes that he’s ALREADY in trouble, he might as well just come out with it and pray to the birthday gods. He holds up the diploma with her name on it : “What’s Gallagher Academy?”

Kass’s sigh is heavy and deep, accompanied by the amount of exhaustion that comes with raising two curious kids by herself. After Claire died, she moved her family to London to be closer to their aunt and away from everything that reminded her of Claire. She never told her children why. From hiding that world from them, the world that took so many people from her : her father, her ex-girlfriend, and the love of her life. She swore that she would never lose her children to it, too. But Kiptyn looks up at her with wide eyes, desperate to know about his mother and his past, and Kass also knows what it’s like to have part of yourself missing due to family secrets that are being kept from you. He is practically a teenager now. So, she relents.

Kass doesn’t go into all of the details, of course. Just that Gallagher Academy was a school for spies, and that’s where it all started. Kiptyn already knew that his moms met in college, so it’s the spy part that’s most interesting to him. She talks about Claire with a light in her eyes he’s unfamiliar with, how she was one of the best fighters in their year, that she grew up with such a talent in the ring that she probably could’ve gone pro if her life had gone in a different direction. She talks about how they had to part ways after graduation, because Claire got a job in North Carolina and she got a job in Washington, DC, but they made it work, and both got very accustomed to the four hour drive – though it was sometimes closer to three for Claire, because she always drove too fast, even on this big, black motorcycle which Kass swears that she hated. She tells Kiptyn about how they got married, the way she’d almost moved to England for a dream job and that long distance threatened to drive them apart again – until Claire chased her down in the airport with a ring and proposal.

She also talks about how Claire really died : the abridged version. It was an overseas mission where they’d been cornered, and Claire risked her life to save the rest of their team. There were no other casualties, and the information they were able to bring back helped stop the terrorist organization they’d been chasing to end them for good. Kass tells the abridged version for her son, gives Claire a hero’s death. In some ways, it was. She doesn’t mention the ways that Claire was consumed by the case, it was an organization hellbent on killing spies and it likely reminded her of the brotherhood. Kass had been worried about the case the whole time, because it felt like Claire was taking it too personally. In the end, she may have been right : because Claire had let it take her life in order to close it. She also doesn’t mention that such a sacrificial death means that her wife died fighting alone, swinging her fists until her very last breath. But still, she was all alone.

She had no choice but to take her kids as far away from that life as possible.

Kiptyn tries, but he doesn’t really remember Claire. He’d only been three years old when she passed away, and before then, she’d been so consumed by her last case that she was barely present. Still, he thinks she sounds badass.

He falls asleep on his mother’s shoulder that night, looking through the scrapbook of pictures from their trip to Italy in 2021. He’s animated for the first part, pointing out buildings and asking questions, wonders if Claire was sweating in all that leather, but he slowly starts to drift off. He wakes up on the couch the next morning, no trace of the book or any of the other papers he’d hauled out of the closet the night before. He looks at the closet and there’s an extra padlock. Figures.

It comes up in little ways, like a private joke that he has with his mother, like she’ll say something and flash him a secretive smile. He likes that, and he understands that this is a big secret that he has to keep. It doesn’t come up again until his fourteenth birthday the next year, the summer before high school. It’s a strange letter in a manila envelope, sealed with some expensive red wax, his name written in fancy calligraphy. The most attention-grabbing part, however, is not Kiptyn Sutton-Walsh in big cursive letters. It’s the return address :

GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

learn her skills, honor her sword. keep her secrets.

#*#self para

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blorbosexterminator · 4 years ago

Note

AND I am back. Once again on this lovely day to give my review for the EPISODE 24 so, here we go :

Agustin is squinting his eyes at him, as Sergio keeps muttering that Agustin has in fact done what he just mentioned he did and which both of them have known for years.

Federico is 99% dead?! Damn, what is Sergio's gonna do?! Make it 100% ? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

(I got a feeling that Federico is the kidnapper or atleast a very important lead to them)

Btw, WHO IS FEDERICO?! Tatiana's alive husband?!

(Look at me, hoping like a moron she aint dead

My dog : Yep, total moron 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Me :

Me : NOBODY ASKED FOR YOUR BITCH-ASS OPINION, YOU DUMB-FUCK DONKEY!!!! 😡😡😡)

Martin, my darling, my sweetheart, my poor angel. Nada, some help? Atleast gimme some tips, bruh, come on, you cant desert me like that. Not when I need to help someone 🙁🙁🙁

since, drunk, the last idea he got was that Laura turned out to be completely insane and kidnapped Andrés to marry him

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Martin, honey, stop drinking. This getting out of hand 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. But then again, Andres is so hot poor thing keeps on doubting.

As Roci said in one of the tags, his wives deserve the highest civilian award for putting up with him.

(Although, I just had a frisky thought. What if Sergio wanted Andres away from Martin, not because he cared bout his hermano but......😳😳😳😳😳 *whispers loudly* he wanted Andres all for himself? In *frantically looks around* INCEST WAY?!)

(Calm down, my deranged mind, you went too far 🤣🤣🤣)

Who knows, it could be the professor he punched in the middle of an exam once. Martín doesn’t think he has forgiven him.

Mood, bruh, such a mood 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 NO, OMG 😆😆😆 I didnt do it, but I do kinda have a beef with my Organic prof. I'll go off tangent again, so tell me if you wanna know the story.

He sent Silene in disguise to collect the cctv from the nearby shops and streets. His own cctv has been disabled since the IT bitch ruined it, Martín will kill him when he gets them back.

I think if and only IF Silene finds something good, her % of redemption will increase.

(Raquel s2e7 deja vu, I see what you did there 😏)

And Martin about to go John Wick on anyone & everyone. I tell ya Keanu Reeves will be crying when he sees Martin go nuts. I am willing to bet he'll pull a gun on the poor milkman, who just wanna do his job 😆😆😆

So he calls Bogota, with a little (not that little) handwritten list in his hand with the names of people he thinks he might have ruined their life in the past.

Martin : Okay, I'll just take out the list and

*the paper rolls out the door, travels around the world for 5 times and comes back while going over top of Everest and bottom of Marina Trench*

No, it’s because when he hated Martín, he had always hated him openly. If he wanted to hurt him, then he’d just try to stab him in the middle of the living room.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

“Bogota, did Tatiana have any family?”

“No, who of us did, Martín?”

“You literally have 7 children and 7 ex-wives.”

COMEDY GOLD, NADA 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

“Those kids are ungrateful bastards, if I fall dead tomorrow they would just run to see what they’ve inherited.”

Aka THE PLOT of 70% Indian Telenovas 🤣🤣🤣. Also this line alone has so much soap opera vibes 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

He has no choice but to go to fucking Sergio Marquina. And if it’s his wife, then even better. Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer.

For fuck sake, Martín, Ive been telling you from last 2 ep

Stop. Blaming. Raquel.

Also, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 damn, these 2 assholes cant keep away from each other. Nada, are we sure these 2 married the right people? As much I am a Berlermo ship stan, this here is just smth else 😆😆😆

Uh-oh 🙁 this asshole son of a bitch just poked the mama bear. And if ANDRES of all people narrows his eyes at you, You are, quoting Martin from last ep, truly, utterly, entirely, thoroughly and wholly fucked.

“Do you know him?”

“Oh yes, a childhood friend, I stole his pencil once and he never forgave me. Have you heard this Paula? Don’t steal your friends’ pencils, they will never get over the betrayal. You could steal the teacher’s ones though.”

“Why did you steal his pencil?” Paula asked seriously, with a delirious tone, and too tired to even move her head upwards. Raquel is gonna kill every single person involved for doing this to her daughter.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Sassy Andres = Best Andres. Words that should be written with GOLD. Wisdom passed onto generations

Poor Paula 🤣🤣🤣 I just imagine this in some other situation :

Andres : *saying smth smth*

Paula : *taking notes & asking questions*

Raquel after seeing her daughter :

Look what you made me do

🎶But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time

Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined

I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

Ooh, look what you made me do

Look what you just made me do🎶

(Look what you made me do by Taylor Swift)

I am telling you Nada, by the time Raquel will be done with everyone, Uma Thurman will cry buckets because no one, okay?, no one can compete with A MAMA BEAR RAQUEL MURILLO.

“Poison is a woman’s choice of weapon, Anibal. Don’t be disrespectful.”

Again, words of wisdom. Only time hes not being a misogynist.

Also, Andres, my dear, are you speaking this from experience?

(Why do I think that Martin got Tatiana killed cause she poisoned him and Martin had to watch Andres fight for his life in hospital?)

“He won’t say anything, Mama. He’s the one who kidnapped grandma with Silene!”

Is anyone gonna listen to her? Or do I need to bonk Raquel myself? 🤦‍♀️

“Silence!” she screams. “I need to know everything that happened, if we’re getting out of here alive.”

FINALLY!!!! SOME COMMON SENSE!!!! WE THANK THE LORD FOR MERCY!!!

And as for me, its time for me to say goodbye and goodnight (Cause its quarter to 12 rn in my watch)

AND ILL SEE YALL TOMORROW 🤗 BYE!!! 🙋‍♀️

I'm back as well! And we've finally caught up with each other.

Valid reaction. Sergio is also slowly going insane. Love that for him.

He's hoping he could. We all know this family has beef with that last one percentage.

(we'll see👀👀👀)

Hope is all we got at this point afabgs.

Now, now, don't speak to him like that. He has valid criticism.

I'd help him if I could, but alas (lmfao no, I do love them suffering)

Same recommendation. But he just, poor boy, could nothing to think of. So might as well be Laura. (also fair, who knows, maybe Andrés gets constantly kidnapped and forced into marriage)

Definitely, she's 100%. I really don't know how they do it.

Avsnsjsvjshsjs all theories are valid. Maybe Sergio does want Martín or Andrés, who knows what goes in the head of that fucker.

Seems like an interesting story! I never got along with my chemistry teachers. (Got one once to tell me that he's still not kicking me out of class only because he feels bad for my parents that they have to deal with me and they'll be the ones who will have to deal with the mess lmfao.)

Yes, have some faith in her!

100% accurate. Martín is this close from just shooting random people in the supermarket because they also could be the ones who kidnapped Andrés.

HAHAHA YES. This is exactly how the scene went.

We stan honesty in this house.

So happy you found it funny!!

I can confirm! Like 70% of all Egyptian drama as well.

I don't think he's hearing you well. But afnajscsgsh SAME. Okay look, now I really understand show runners with super homoerotic ships that they refuse to make canon. You try and make two male characters hate each other so much for plot then it slips and gets homoerotic.

Totally agree. This guy isn't making enemies with the right people (they are all dumb, but also none of them have anything that even resembles a moral compass)

Totally agree. This guy is honestly super amusing to watch and it's mainly because he's incapable of taking any situation in life seriously.

This family is really iconic. (love the song agsnsg) but also like Raquel would basically tell her after writing done his notes just put the title on top: things to never, ever, do.

I believe you! They really fucked with the wrong dumb family.

I mean, he's still a misogynist. Maybe some of us really like dagger, has he considered that?

That's as valid theory as any right there.

Hopefully Raquel will finally start listening to the child!

Raquel is the only one with a semblance of common sense.

Hope you had a good sleep! I'll see you tomorrow!

#thanks again kal!!#lovely review as always #Ramadan Telenovela #A Spanish Tale

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quentinblack · 5 years ago

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Smoke and Mirrors

Word Count: 8.5K words

Chapter 15 - Ron IV: Australia Magizoo (link to full story on FF.net)

Featuring: Ron Weasley & Hermione Granger

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. 18+/Rated R.

Author’s Notes: At the time of writing this was pretty much the longest chapter I’d ever written. I’ve read a lot of fluff/sex scenes in fanfic over the years, some good, some bad, some ugly, so whilst writing my first proper long-running fic I was somewhat hesitant about including it. I didn’t want to have it just in there for the sake of it, but if I could find a scene or chapter where I felt like it would work well for the story and the arc of, in this case Ron’s story, then I thought I would throw it in. The cool thing about this chapter I felt was playing around with subverting people’s expectations upon reading at the start, then have it go full circle towards the end of the chapter. It’s probably not the best chapter I’ve ever written, but it was one of the more entertaining ones to actually write.

A warm breeze brushed across Ron’s face, as he felt his fringe pushed to the left hand side of his face by the summery wind.

He leaned forward casually on the white marble railing towards the end of their hotel balcony, wearing just his sky-blue swimming trunks, whilst he watched the stunning sunset taking place across the scenic artificial beach that lay not far from their room.

Ron was not quite sure what kind of magic the Australians were using to conjure up such a relaxing ambience, but he was very impressed by it all the same.

There were entire geo-magical landscapes and weather-enchantment spells surrounding the inner walls of the hotel, which were all very carefully adapted for the preferences of different guests. Their part of the hotel had a tropical theme, equipped with a synthetic summer climate, palm trees and a beautiful beach, with the clearest of seas that one could imagine.

The hotel’s colossal size was such that Ron and Hermione had not managed to venture out to any of the other geo-magical landscapes yet. However, Ron read in the glossy brochure (entirely devoid of any magical moving images in full faux-muggle style) that there was also a secluded woodland retreat theme for lovers of nature, as well as a winter wonderland, equipped with a massive mountain for skiing - and there was even a newly built and increasingly popular section entirely based on muggle Britain’s royal heritage.

Brad hadn’t been joking when he’d said that Wizarding tourism was booming in Australia – and they were even taking advantage of people’s reluctance and fear to travel to Britain too. Ron wondered how long they would be able to capitalise on that particular niche, as Kingsley’s new government was hopefully going to help usher in a new era of peace and prosperity in the coming months and years.

“Ronald!”

Ron heard Hermione’s faint call of his name, which was barely audible above the gentle whirl of the simmering bubbles in their enormous en-suite hot-tub.

He stared down into the bubbles for a brief moment.

There was something about the water that did not look quite right, but he could not put his finger on what it was that was off about it.

He was, for a brief moment, utterly mesmerised by the relentless pulse of the bubbles and he very nearly hurled himself into the warm and inviting water, but then thought better of it.

“Ronald! Oh do hurry up, it’s urgent!”

There was a more frantic tone to his girlfriend’s call this time – and it was much louder too.

Perhaps she had received word that they had found her parents.

He paced quickly across the paved floor of their balcony and back into the room to see what it was that she wanted and… and…

Hermione was laying on her back, facing the balcony door… but her eyes were closed.

Ron looked at her in complete shock.

He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She was completely naked, except for a black lace bra that slightly covered her small, firm breasts.

Her eyes were closed, but not in a state of sleep – no, quite the opposite in-fact, they were closed in a state of pure pleasure, as, with the fingers of her right hand, she softly played with herself.

Ron felt his cock harden slightly and it began to bulge in his swimming trunks as he watched her caressing her completely shaved cunt.

Hermione opened her dark, brown eyes and she grinned devilishly as they met his own.

She bit her lip slightly and motioned with her spare left hand for him to join her on the bed, whilst she continued to masturbate with her favoured right.

Ron could not quite believe his luck and momentarily paused in panic.

He had been dreaming of this moment for months, or years really.

He had secretly hoped once it was confirmed that Harry was no longer coming with them to Australia that this moment might somehow present itself, but to have it fall into his lap this way really was like a dream come true.

Ron excitedly pulled down his trunks and discarded them to the floor, letting Hermione have her first look at his now fully erect penis, which burst out from a bushy bed of red pubic hair.

“Oh fuck,” Hermione moaned, as she bit her lip once more and began playing with herself with increased vigour.

Ron had never heard her say fuck before.

It didn’t sound quite right coming out of her pure, pretty mouth, but it turned him on and made his cock swell up even more, as he began to pull himself onto the bed towards her.

“Quickly Ron,” she sighed desperately, as he clamoured towards her gorgeous naked body. “I need you inside me… please… I’ve been waiting so long for you to finally fuck me!”

Ron began to slowly pull his bulging dick towards her tight, wet vagina.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

The moment he had waited so long for.

He thrust his cock towards her, but just as he was about to enter her everything went black and faded away.

Ron woke up in a panicked, nervous sweat, breathing heavily as he came to terms with the fact he had just been dreaming.

His arms were clutched around Hermione’s waist, with the pair having slept cradled together in their pyjamas in the lightly air-conditioned room.

He felt Hermione stir slightly – and, to his absolute horror, he discovered that the erect penis part of his dream had in fact been based on reality.

His crotch was positioned in such a way that his bulging erection, which was pressing mercilessly into his pyjama bottoms, was also pressing mercilessly into Hermione’s bottom.

He thought that there was no way that she could not feel it.

Ron adjusted the positioning of his thighs slightly so that he was no longer making direct contact with her with his lower body, but just as soon as he had done that she had wriggled herself backwards a bit, which meant his cock was now pushed up against the back of one of her thighs instead.

He wriggled slightly to get away from her again, but after a few moments she once again moved back towards him, inadvertently nudging his hard-on in the process.

It was almost as if she was doing it deliberately, but she was still half-asleep and probably hadn’t even noticed what was happening.

Ron lay awake in their king-sized bed still spooning Hermione for another ten minutes, with it gradually becoming less awkward as his erection slowly subsided.

It soon became apparent though that he would not fall back to sleep any time soon, so he relented and decided to get up and shower

The hotel bathroom was state-of-the-art, even by muggle standards according to Hermione – and it was all very impressive, with the hot water jets blasting against his fair-skin soon ensuring that he was fully awake and energised.

Ron spent a considerable amount of time in the shower, as once he had fully washed his hair and body he slowly lathered himself up once again and masturbated, thinking of the naked Hermione from his dream as he relieved himself and eventually climaxed.

It took several minutes to ensure the last of his cum had trickled down the drain… then, just as the last of it was washing away there was a knock on the bathroom door.

He ignored the knock as he meticulously watched the final traces of his semen slide out of sight.

There was another knock on the door, but this time it was a fair bit louder.

“Ronald! Are you alright? You’ve been absolutely ages in there!” Hermione remarked, with a slight sound of worry in her sleepy sounding voice.

Ron quickly wrapped himself in a towel and in a slightly panicked fluster he opened the door.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just enjoying myself in the shower,” he blurted out.

“Oh, I see-

“Enjoying myself because it’s bloody brilliant!” he quickly added. “I mean, as shower’s go, its right up there… it’s really good… wakes you right up… you should try it!”

“Right, yes… well, I will have to, when I have a wash myself…” she replied, perhaps a bit confused at his feigned enthusiasm for the shower. “I was just a little worried that’s all, I know, I was just being a bit silly, but you don’t usually take that long and you locked the door and…

“You’d get used to locking bathroom doors too if you grew up living in a house with Fred and George!” he replied softly, with what he thought was a well-timed save, as he remembered the countless times that his older twin brothers had tormented him and caused many a toilet-related mishap, which were now nothing more than bittersweet memories.

“Yes, of course,” Hermione retorted. “And I know you would never wish for me to intrude or invade your privacy-

Ron momentarily considered correcting her on this point, as, on the contrary, he would’ve loved nothing more than for her to walk in on him naked, but he swiftly decided against it.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I just wanted to make sure that you were alright,” she said, as she blushed slightly.

“As always I appreciate your concern,” he joked, before leaning forward and kissing her on the lips, which caused his soaking wet hair to press right up against her dry, bushy mane.

She was slightly taken aback at first, but then soon pressed her lips back to his – and she even briefly parted them, to allow him to slip his tongue into her mouth, before she reached back and broke free.

“Oh and can you believe this?” she demanded, instantly killing the moment, as she then reached down towards the bed and picked up their daily newspaper, which must have been delivered whilst he was washing.

It was The Sydney Spell, which seemed to be the Australian equivalent of The Daily Prophet.

“CROOKED KRUM SEIZED AS MATCH-FIXING SCANDAL ROCKS THE QUIDDITCH WORLD!” read the headline, which was accompanied by an animated picture of Viktor Krum catching the snitch in the World Cup final they’d seen live all those years ago, before the Death Eaters had wreaked havoc on the camp-site.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed.

“My thoughts exactly,” Hermione added in a glum tone. “You’re obviously a lot more clued up on the nuances of a Quidditch match than I am…” she added, as Ron reflected on whether this was the first time she had ever admitted that he was more clued up on something.

“You watched that match… do you really think it’s possible that it was fixed?” she asked.

“Well… I dunno,” he began, as he thought back to it. “I mean, it was a little odd that he caught the snitch in a losing position, but it does happen… it’s a very fast-paced sport so he could well have missed something or thought the score was closer than it actually was… and… well, Quidditch players aren’t exactly renowned for being the most intelligent of people -

“You know full well that Viktor is not stupid!” she hissed slightly.

“Well… no,” he conceded. “But if I remember rightly both Krum and Lynch spotted the snitch at the same time, so if Krum hadn’t have caught it when he did then they would’ve still lost anyway, just by an even bigger margin.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Hermione replied, deep in contemplation. “Although Krum was, or rather, still is considered one of, if not the greatest seeker of his generation, is he not?”

Ron felt a slight flush of jealously at hearing her talk about Krum with such high regard.

“Well… I mean, some would argue that to be considered the greatest seeker of a generation you would have to win a World Cup, which Krum has never-

“If not the greatest, then one of the greatest then?” she sternly replied.

“Yes, one of the greatest, of course,” he quickly conceded.

“Then wouldn’t one of the greatest seekers of his generation always be aware of what the current score was? And wouldn’t one of the greatest seekers of his generation do everything that was physically possible to avoid catching the snitch until he was absolutely sure it would win his country the World Cup?” she asked rhetorically, perhaps now questioning herself more than Ron.

“I… I suppose-

“Think back to our 3rd year… the final game of the season against Slytherin, when Harry caught the snitch to win the House Cup,” she said, once more deep in thought.

“Oh yeah – that was brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, as he remembered the moment Harry had captured the little golden-snitch with both hands off of his broom.

“Think harder!” Hermione urged. “You remember, don’t you? Gryffindor had to win the game by at least 210 points, otherwise Slytherin would have still won the Cup on point’s difference.”

“Yeah… yeah I do remember, of course,” Ron said, as he thought he began to grasp what she was getting at.

“Wood drilled it into Harry for ages… whatever you do, Harry, do not catch the snitch whilst it is mathematically impossible for Gryffindor to win the Cup. You do remember that, yes?” she demanded.

“Yes… yes of course I remember. So what are you saying then? You actually think that this stuff about Krum is true? That he really did agree to throw the final?” he asked, slightly bewildered at what she seemed to be insinuating.

“No. Of course not!” Hermione snapped back.

Ron was completely lost now.

“But I thought you were saying-

“I don’t think for one moment that Viktor agreed to throw the match. His professional pride, desire to win and love for his country would prevent him from doing that,” she said solemnly. “However, I do think there’s a very good chance that it was fixed and that somebody may have been controlling him... but who… how… and to what end?”

Australia Magizoo really was quite something.

Their day had begun with an extremely filling breakfast that could’ve possibly put even Hogwarts to shame, as Ron loaded up on copious amounts of poached eggs, bacon and sausages.

Hermione had settled for a few freshly made French pastries and a slice of toast with something called Vegemite spread onto it. Ron was not sure what exactly Vegemite was, but it had an awful smell to it and did not look up to too much cop either – his girlfriend reassuring him that it was just a type of yeast extract did not particularly sell it either. It looked like it had been scooped out of the bottom of a cup in one of Professor Trelawney’s tea-reading classes.

Following their stomachs being filled by their respective breakfasts, they had spent nearly the entire day exploring the gigantic grounds of Woollahra’s wizarding tourist attraction – and Ron could see why it was such an attraction.

The park was filled with almost every creature that you could possibly name, with a large section even being dedicated to housing non-magical creatures of interest too - such as lions, giraffes and even wild polar bears in a sub-zero arctic section!

A lot of the magizoo’s star attractions were dedicated to beasts that Ron and Hermione had been fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to encounter before. He had never really considered how lucky they’d actually been over the last seven years, at least in terms of seeing such a wide array of creatures.

Children and adults alike were crowding round for a glimpse of a phoenix in the flesh, which Ron shrugged off as nothing too exciting, as he’d seen Dumbledore’s one countless times before in their former headmaster’s office– and he’d even been flown out of the Chamber of Secrets by it in second year.

They balked at a massive queue that had formed for rides on the thestrals, with many lucky adults and children very excited at the prospect of riding on a beast that was invisible to them. Hermione read on a sign that outside of Britain the wild populations of thestrals were dwindling quite a lot, so for many non-Brits this would be their first and possibly only chance to ever see, or indeed, not see a thestral, which any British student would obviously just take for granted - they were even used as a mode of transport at Hogwarts!

If they had thought that the queue for the thestrals was large then that paled in comparison to the one for the hippogriffs, as everyone longed to receive a bow from one of the delightful, but deadly part-horse, part-eagle creatures. They did not linger there too long, as again, unlike much of the world’s population they had also had their fair share of experiences with hippogriffs.

The next portion of the park following the hippogriffs was dedicated to the world’s deadliest beasts – and after Ron hastily hurried Hermione away from the acromantulas, they spent a while looking at the magnificent Antipodean Opaleye dragon. The purple dragon was a New Zealand-native and as such, one of the more locally sourced creatures in the entire magizoo, although they soon noticed that the next part of the tour was actually dedicated entirely to the magical creatures of Australia.

At first they were introduced to the bunyips which were based in a large swamp. They were peculiar creatures, with big tusks, flippers for feet and large bushy tails. A sign near them spoke of how over the years there had been several infamous incidents where rogue bunyips had got loose and attacked muggles, with the beasts coming out at night in the cover of darkness to attack small children, women or defenceless household pets.

One of the world’s last living muldjewangk was housed in a lake not far from the bunyips. The muldjewangk, who did not surface whilst they were at the lake, were described as kind of like a cross between giant squid and merpeople.

It was said that in centuries gone by hordes of muldjewangk terrorised muggle fisherman all over the Indian Ocean, but in the last hundred years they had become an endangered species thanks partially to pollution in muggle waters, but mostly due to wizarding-poachers hunting them for their teeth and blood, with both apparently fetching a pretty penny due to their rarity and variety of uses.

It was just as they were walking away from the lake, somewhat disappointed at not glimpsing a sight of the muldjewangk, that they bumped into Tezza, who was the porter that had taken their bags upon arrival and asked about You Know Who’s nose. It seemed that Tezza performed an array of roles at the hotel, one of which also seemingly involved working with the creatures themselves.

“Alright guys?!” he chirped excitedly when he spotted them, as they said hello and made some small talk.

“Didn’t get to see the muldjewangk? Don’t be too down guys, they don’t like coming out during the day much anyways. The kids here are always devo at missing out like, but let me show you some little buggers that I think you’ll both be stoked on seeing.”

They followed Tezza over to some large gum trees, which had magical protections placed just in-front of them, indicating how dangerous whatever beasts they housed must be.

“Now these little ones might look cute, but trust me, they’re fierce little bastards especially if they’re after a bit of grub,” he said, as he pointed to what looked like a tiny little bear climbing the tree nearest to them.

“Isn’t that a koala bear?” a confused Hermione asked, as Tezza burst out laughing.

“They might look like koalas, but take a look for yourself,” Tezza said, before waving his wand and erecting a human-like mannequin on the ground about 10 metres directly below the creature. It noticed and after a brief second of contemplation it instantly threw itself down through the sky, claws first, soon landing on the head of the mannequin, tearing it apart with both its paws and teeth.

“Bloody hell!” Ron swore.

“You can say that again, mate!” Tezza replied. “That little bugger is called a drop bear and well… it lives up to its name,” he added, as the little beast tore furiously at the prop, before Tezza conjured it up a few dead rats for it to feast on instead as a treat for its part in the show.

“Do they mind being here… at the magizoo… with all these people ogling at them?” Hermione asked Tezza.

“The drop bears?”

Ron felt a little awkward as he guessed the train of thought and line of questioning that his girlfriend would have for Tezza.

“Yes, the drop bears, but, well, all of the creatures and beasts you house here really. Do they like it here… rather than being in the wild?”

“To tell you the truth Miss Granger,” Tezza said, as he paused for a brief moment before continuing. ”For most of them now there ain’t no wild no more anyway... what with all the poachers like, and it ain’t as easy as it was years ago keeping ‘em away from exposure to muggoes neither. It’s the same way most the muggo animals are going too. Woollahra’s the best place for ‘em I say.”

Hermione seemed content enough with Tezza’s response, although Tezza was hardly going to turn round and admit the creatures all hated it there if they did anyway.

The magizoo worker began guiding them away from the drop bear enclosure and further along to a stretch of grassland in the distance.

“Course, we don’t house any beasts that are sentient,” Tezza continued, as Hermione nodded along in approval. “You won’t find no centaurs, vampires or werewolves here… ‘tho all the guests would be clamouring to see ‘em if they were, as you can imagine, like.

Fancy that ehh? Seeing an actual centaur or werewolf in the flesh, now that would be proper gnarly!”

Ron was once more left feeling a bit spoilt by his education.

He couldn’t quite believe that Tezza had never seen a werewolf or centaur in the flesh, at Hogwarts they’d had a werewolf and a centaur among the faculty at varying intervals of his stint at school.

“What about house elves?” Ron asked nervously, as he stole a quick glance at Hermione, who looked even more interested in Tezza’s response to the latest question posed to him, as they walked past a giant, yellow warning sign that read:

“CAUTION: YOU ARE NOW APPROACHING THE YARA-MA-YHA-WHO ENCLOSURE. THIS BEAST IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS! DO NOT ENGAGE IT IF IT ESCAPES! CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 15 MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY A RESPONSIBLE PARENT OR GUARDIAN!”

“You certainly won’t find no house-elves here!” Tezza said in a slightly bemused tone. “Not working for us anyway… course we get lots of rich families from America, India and France come and visit who bring theirs along for the trip… ya’ kno’, funny thing is I’d never even seen one in the flesh before I started working here myself!”

“Why is that?” Hermione asked. “Are house-elves against the law in Australia?” she added, with a hopeful tone in her voice.

Tezza audibly chuckled.

“Against the law? We’d have to bloody have some for ‘em to be illegal! Never really caught on down here since nobody could bloody afford one. I’m sure whoever cooked up the idea for this place could have their pick of them now though, like, you know I-

“WHAT’S THAT?!” Ron burst out, as Hermione instinctively grabbed his hand, as she too saw a giant bear-like creature waddling towards them.

It was just their luck.

The one time they visit the magizoo was the time that the extremely dangerous creature broke out.

Why was it always them?!

At least Tezza would know what to do.

He didn’t look in the slightest bit afraid, which reassured Ron that he must know how to handle the very dangerous looking beast heading towards them.

“What’s what?” a bemused looking Ted asked them, as Hermione and Ron both drew their wands, which confused him even more.

“Over there!” Hermione gasped, as she pointed over to the furry giant which was getting closer to them, albeit at a fairly slow pace.

“HA-HA! You can’t mean… oh you think that silly bugger is the dangerous beast that sign was warning yous about?” he asked with a patronising look on his tanned face, as Ron nodded awkwardly.

“HA-HA! You wait until all of the lads hear about this one!” he blurted out, with a furious grin washed across his face. “Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger frightened off their rocker by a silly old yowie! COME HERE YA BIG WALKING CARPET!” Tezza shouted, as the yowie responded to his call and quickened his pace, although only slightly.

“They’re clever creatures, yowie’s, but they’re bloody pussies. Wouldn’t hurt a mozza, even if it was biting on one of their balls!” Tezza joked, as he stretched his arms out for the yowie to give him a hug.

The yowie towered over him, it must’ve been at least seven foot, but he showed no fear when it barked softly and wrapped its furry arms right round his thin-frame, almost lifting him off of the ground with enthusiasm as it hugged him.

“We call him Chewy,” Tezza said excitedly, as the yowie released him. “You know, like the wookie from Star Wars.”

“What’s Star Wars?” Ron asked blankly.

“Only one of the greatest bloody movies of all time, mate!” Tezza replied indignantly.

“I’ve never watched any movies,” Ron responded.

“You ain’t ever seen a single movie in ya’ life?”

Tezza looked in a state of shock, perhaps he was a half-blood or a muggle-born and had grown up with the muggle television.

Ron shook his head in response.

“Blimey. Where did you find this guy?!” Tezza quizzed Hermione.

“It’s kind of a long story,” she replied, before smirking a little at both Tezza and then Ron himself.

“Now you run along now Chewy,” Tezza ordered to the yowie. “Shouldn’t be out here near the yara-ma-yha-who anyway you daft git,” he added, as he poked his bear-like companion. The yowie obeyed, sauntering off in the opposite direction after uttering what sounded like it could only be a laugh at Tezza.

“Oh my goodness,” Hermione mouthed, seemingly noticing something in the distance. “Is that… is that…

“Too right-o, Miss Granger,” Tezza replied. “That is a yara-ma-yha who.”

Ron saw it out of the corner of his eye, rested on a similar tree to the one that the drop bear had been grasping to before it flew out of the sky.

The yara-ma-yha-who was a slightly slimy, amphibious looking red creature that can’t have been much bigger than the average goblin.

Its dark blood-red body resembled a frightening cross between a frog, an octopus and a common garden gnome.

It was truly hideous.

It hung to the tree by its tiny red hands, but it also had thin, slippery suckers on the rear of its body which it used to swing around the tree too, almost like a monkey would do with its tail.

“That little bugger is damn-near the most deadly beast in this entire magizoo. If I had to face the dragon or that thing without a wand – I’d choose the dragon every bloody time… you wanna kno’ why?” Tezza asked, pausing slightly for effect.

Ron suspected that he would tell them the answer whether they wanted to hear it or not, but nonetheless he humoured Tezza all the same.

“Alrite, I’ll tell you why… you run into a hungry dragon on a bad day, it’ll smoke you alrite… but dragons don’t play with their food… a dragon will roast ya’ long before it thinks about eating ya’ to stop ya’ from runnin’ away… but these things… mate… ya kno’ what these things do to ya? It uses those suckers to drain you of your blood, but not enough to kill ya’… na’, it takes just enuff to weaken ya’ and keep ya’ within its grasp… then it will swallow ya’ whole… they can swallow up to four time their body weight… but that’s not the last of it, oh na’, wouldn’t be so bad if it was, like, but that’s only the start of it… ya’ see once it falls asleep it pumps oxygen right through the victim’s brain and airwaves… acts kinda like an oxygen tank in there… to try and keep ya alive… then as it gradually comes out of its slumber it slowly regurgitates ya’… then… when it wakes up… it starts the process all over again. They can sometimes keep their prey alive for over four days before finally killing it for good.”

Hermione said nothing, but she had a look of utter disgust and horror on her face.

“And has one of those…things… ever actually escaped?” Ron managed to muster.

“Oh Christ no!” Tezza jibed. “They’d probably shut the whole place down if one of those got out and killed a poor little ankle biter or somethin’. Can you imagine the bad press we’d-

“ATTENTION ALL STATIONS!”

A loud, slightly muffled booming voice came out from what looked like a small, portable muggle radio on Tezza’s belt.

“WHO WAS THE LAST OF YOUS TO HAVE SEEN OUR BRITISH VISITORS? I REPEAT, WHO WAS THE LAST OF YOUS TO HAVE SEEN OUR BRITISH VISITORS? OVER!”

Tezza smiled slightly.

“Funny you should ask that, Zoe,” he said into the radio. “I’m with ‘em right now. Over.”

“Is that you Terrence? Over.”

“Sure as hell is, Zoe, you see-

“What’s your nearest assembly point? Over.”

“Well… we’re just by the old Yara-ma-yha-who enclosure… so I’d say…erm… ah ya! The Great Barrier Reef café. Over.”

“That’s great. Head over with them now… I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Over.”

“No worries, Zoe, mate. I’ll bring ‘em right down. Over,” he said into the radio, as he started heading east, then motioned with his hand for them to follow him.

The Great Barrier Reef café turned out to be a massive muggle-style aquarium, with a sizeable restaurant in the back serving up mostly seafood-based cuisine. The aquarium hosted mostly exotic fish found in the seas of Sydney, but there were also other creatures like sharks and turtles housed there too.

Tezza stayed with them in a waiting area of the main reception, which housed a large open-tank filled with different types of rays, which people, mostly children, were able to reach in and feed if they so pleased.

Whoever had designed the hotel had really gone all in on the muggle-theme, as this particular section even had a large boxed television raised up high on the wall, with some kind of muggle wildlife program playing.

“That man on the television. Is he a muggle?” Hermione asked, as the blonde, burly man in a khaki outfit stalked a large crocodile whilst he talked to the camera.

“Who? Steve Irwin?! He’s only one of the most famous muggoes in all of Australia! Surprised you ain’t heard of him,” he replied.

“But how… but how is he able to avoid being killed by that crocodile? If he’s not a wizard?” Ron quizzed, as he too began watching on at the TV in surprise.

“Beats me, mate. But he ain’t in no danger – those crocco’s love him,” Tezza said with a wry smile on his face, as he placed his left hand into the water and reached down. “Why… Steve-o up there’s in no more danger with one of those crocs than I am with this little sting-ray,” he added, as he caressed one of the floating flat creatures with his fingers.

“AH YA CUNT!!!!” Tezza blurted out, splashing water everywhere as he quickly removed his hand from the tank.

“The little bastard stung me!” he exclaimed in outrage.

“Hermione Granger? Ron Weasley?”

Ron saw a middle-aged lady with heavily tanned skin and thick dark hair, who he guessed had been the female voice from the muggle radio. She was well dressed, with a face full of perfectly applied make-up and the fixed-forced smile of someone who had probably been working in customer-facing roles for a long time.

“That’s us,” Hermione responded eagerly, with a distant sound of hope in her voice.

“I’m Zoe Federici. Head of Guest Relations here at the hotel,” Federici said, just before shaking both of their hands. “The Ministry have sent us word that they have found your parents, Miss Granger,” she added, flashing a brief smile and her bright, white teeth in Hermione’s direction.

Ron heard an audible gasp of both relief and excitement from Hermione, as she grasped onto his hand very tightly.

“Given the circumstances they thought it best to err on the side of caution and have opted against using magic to transport them here. Their current working plan is for you to be re-introduced just after breakfast tomorrow morning… meet me in the main lobby reception just after 10AM... and in the mean-time, please, if there is anything I or any of my staff can do to improve your stay with us, all you have to do is ask.”

The good news that Federici had delivered to them earlier in the day had come as a pretty big relief to Ron, but it couldn’t compare to the relief that it had taken off of his girlfriend’s shoulders. In the hours that followed Hermione had finally allowed herself to properly enjoy the extravagant and exotic surroundings that they found themselves located in.

Their first act, on Zoe’s own suggestion, had been a trip to the beach bar in their section of the resort. The Guest Relations manager had insisted on pouring their first round of celebratory cocktails herself, which had presented a new dilemma for them, as neither of them had ordered an alcoholic cocktail before in their lives.

This did not act as a set-back for Federici, more-so, it actually put a genuinely excited smile on her face, as she whipped out a strange, leathery brown hat which had several corks attached to it with string.

“This isn’t just any old hat,” she had said. “This hat has been charmed to explore your mind, body and soul to work out the exact cocktail that you would most like at that given moment.”

They had each had a go at trying on the hat over two hours ago – and were both now pretty tipsy after consuming their fair share of cocktails at the bar. Hermione drinking the refreshing rum, lime and mint mojitos, with Ron knocking back the even sweeter pineapple and coconut concoctions called pina coladas.

Ron was now drinking his fourth, or maybe his fifth, as they relaxed on comfortable cushioned chairs back up at their balcony whilst watching the artificial sun-set. The synthetic weather was still warm enough that Ron sat with his top off, just wearing a pair of swim-shorts, whilst Hermione relaxed in a white swimsuit, which was nicely cut around her cleavage.

Ron was sure that Hermione had caught him on one of the few occasions that he had stolen a quick glance at her slightly protruding breasts – and to his surprise she had not told him off, instead she had said nothing, merely looking away hesitantly with a wry smile on her pretty face.

“You know… there was something Miss Burke said back at the Australian Ministry that I found a little… odd,” a tipsy Hermione said, as Ron looked over at her, pondering his reply as he tried to avoid staring at her cleavage.

“Did you know that Kingsley had a brother?” she said with a confused look on her face before he could think of anything to say in response. “She mentioned that back when they were at Hogwarts together Kingsley and his brother used to gloat to her about the Quidditch results.”

Ron did vaguely remember Olivia Burke making an offhand comment like that, but such was his mental and physical state following that horrific portkey journey that it had completely passed him by, not registering as particularly odd at the time – or if it had, that train of thought had swiftly departed the station of his mind just as soon as it had entered it.

“No… no I don’t think he’s ever mentioned having a brother before,” Ron responded, as he searched through his less than sober mind for any recollection of such a conversation.

“Don’t you agree that that’s a little bit odd?” Hermione offered, as she took a deep sip on her straw, twirling around the little mint leaves in her sugar-coated glass as she did so.

It was a little bit odd, Ron agreed, but that sort of thing wasn’t completely unheard of in the wizarding community.

“Perhaps a little, yes… but Mum never likes to talk about her brothers… maybe Kingsley’s brother was killed in the first war too.”

“That’s a good point,” Hermione said. “I hadn’t considered that… yes… yes, you may well be right.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” he teased sarcastically, as Hermione smiled a little, then let out a tipsy laugh.

“I do understand why she never talks about them,” Ron continued, suddenly steering the conversation to a more serious direction, perhaps partially due to the influence of the alcohol, as he noticed the expression on Hermione’s face turn from a smile to one of sympathy.

“Dad always said that a little part of her died the day she found out that they’d been killed… and I know it must have been really hard for her… but I do sometimes wish she would’ve talked about them more. Even just told us some funny family stories or something. It feels weird to even say their names out loud since nobody would ever talk about them…

Hermione reached over and placed her soft, warm hand on top of Ron’s, caressing his hand with her slim fingers as he kept talking.

“… I won’t ever let myself do that with Fred,” Ron added, trying to reassure himself more than Hermione.

“When we’re married and have children of our own I’ll tell them every funny story about Fred that I know and-

Ron stopped himself as he realised what he had just said.

Hermione had already started laughing.

“Wait- that’s not what I meant- I-

“When we’re married and have children of our own?” Hermione jibed, as she sarcastically raised her eyebrows.

“No- no- I meant- you know what I-

“I’m very interested to hear what you meant to say, Ronald,” Hermione said, still giggling at his mistake, as she stood up from her chair after finishing the last of her drink.

Ron clumsily pulled himself up from his chair so that they were standing face to face in the sunset.

“Well I just meant if… you know if-

Hermione kissed his lips before he had a chance to finish.

He felt her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer, as he rested his own arms around the back of her slender waist.

“I don’t know how much you know about the human anatomy Ron,” she said softly, almost in a whisper, as she temporary broke away from the kiss. “But it seems a little premature for you to be thinking about getting me pregnant when we haven’t even… you know…”

Ron felt his heartrate rise rapidly.

He didn’t quite know what to say.

Her skin looked so soft and creamy.

His eyes fell on her cleavage once more and he noticed the outline of her two nipples and breasts against her white swimsuit.

His cock tingled slightly as he imagined what it would be like to have one of her breasts in his mouth.

“Why is it that we haven’t yet, do you think?” Hermione asked.

“I dunno… I mean-

“I suppose I have been awfully stressed about my parents… and I’m sure it has been awfully difficult for you too… we’ve been so caught up with everything we just haven’t really had time to think about it,” she concluded, as Ron nodded in agreement, even though it wasn’t the slightest bit true that he hadn’t had time to think about it.

“You do want to… you know… don’t you?” she whispered, with a look of doubt on her face.

“Yes!” he blurted out. “I mean… if… only if you want to,” he quickly added.

“You don’t think I look awfully stupid… in this swimsuit, I mean. You don’t think I look too-

“I think you look perfect,” Ron drunkenly pronounced, as he pulled her close and passionately kissed her lips. He heard her sigh softly as he ran his hands gently down her back, eventually resting them on her bottom.

Ron squeezed her bum cheeks firmly as her tongue aggressively fought its way into his mouth.

He lifted her up and stumbled slightly, before she straddled her legs around his waist as they continued lustfully kissing whilst he carried her into the bedroom, before thrusting her down onto the bed and pressing her down against the sheets as they continued their steamy embrace.

Ron broke away from kissing her lips and quickly worked his way across first to her right cheek, then further down the side of her face before he began amorously pecking her neck.

Hermione sighed softly, then began to press her nails across his back as he remembered the technique that Lavender had taught him during their brief fling in sixth year.

He opened his mouth as if to bite her neck, but instead he sucked strongly, causing his girlfriend to gasp with pleasure. Ron wondered if he would be the first person to give Hermione a love-bite, he hoped he was – and the jealous thought of Viktor Krum, or anyone else having done this to her only caused him to suck with a renewed sense of vigour.

Hermione scratched his back in delight as he felt his penis grow harder and harder, as he broke free of his sucking to begin snogging her again, tasting the rum, lime and mint on her tongue and breathe as he did so.

His train of thought briefly went back to Lavender Brown – and he quickly pushed the horrific sight of her dead, mutilated body out and away from his mind.

He pulled back from his embrace with Hermione and got up slightly, before untying the cords and taking off his shorts, leaving him fully naked and exposed in-front of her.

Ron’s cock stood firmly to attention and Hermione studied it with enough curiosity for him to feel reassured that his was the very first that she had seen in the flesh. The excitement of her studying his naked body like it was a brand-new book made him feel about as horny as he could ever remember feeling.

She followed his lead in getting undressed and smiled shyly at him, before sitting up and slowly taking off her white swimsuit and casting it aside, leaving only her glorious, bare-naked skin in its wake.

Her body was scattered with occasional freckles, much lighter and less noticeable than his own, but noticeable in their own way nonetheless. His dick stiffened up even more as he finally cast his eyes on her beautiful breasts and perky, pink nipples. She had a small mole on her left breast and just above her belly button – and upon seeing those little imperfections he had never felt more intimate and close to her.

He stared at her bare, naked body as she did the same to him, for all his sneaky glances at her breasts throughout the last hour or so, she was more than getting even now as she bashfully eyed up his cock.

Ron looked towards the middle of her legs and unlike her smoothly shaven sex in his dream that morning, her vagina was covered by small tufts of bushy, brown pubic hair.

They caught each other’s eye at the same time and hungrily embraced once more, lips against lips, tongue to tongue, as they began to explore each other’s body with their hands. Ron fondled her breasts firmly, as she reached out and got her first grasp of his erect cock.

He was surprised he didn’t cum there and then, but he relaxed himself as she begin gently pulling up and down on his penis as his right hand trickled down from her breast to her stomach, before he eventually reached the inside of her thighs and the tufts of her pubic hair.

Hermione moaned and swore under her breath as his fingers slowly glided their way through the hairs and reached her glistening clitoris and he began to softly rub it, as Lavender had once taught him.

At the time of their break-up Ron had harboured a slight tinge of regret that they had only ever gone as far as to fondle around with each other, but in hindsight he had absolutely no regrets considering that he was about to lose his virginity with the girl that he had loved for several years now.

The sight of Lavender’s dead corpse once again entered his mind though - and for a brief moment all sense of arousal was lost.

“Don’t stop,” Hermione whispered gently – and he was soon just as horny as he was before when she increased the speed and force of her grip on his cock.

He continued to press his fingers against her, feeling her wetness increase with each stroke, causing her to dampen her pubic hairs and cover his index and middle fingers with the fruits of his labour.

“I think I’m ready,” she softly gasped, as she reluctantly relented her grip of his cock and lay back, opening her legs even further.

He stared down at his beautiful naked girlfriend, her dark brown eyes gazing down at him with a look of both excitement and slight nervousness on her face.

Ron remembered that he hadn’t yet uttered the contraceptive spell and quickly grabbed his wand from the bedside table, muttering the spell he had first seen written on a desk in one of the Herbology greenhouses in 3rd year.

A feint and very quickly invisible trail of white smoke brushed against, then evaporated onto his penis, as he held onto Hermione’s thighs and then slowly but surely entered her tight, wet cunt.

Hermione gasped heavily, with what seemed like a mixture of pleasure and pain.

So this was it.

This was what it felt like.

The sight of Lavender’s corpse once again entered his horrified mind as he came to terms with the fact that he was finally inside of Hermione and had lost his virginity.

He reached out and held one of his girlfriend’s hands, softly pulling his penis slightly out and then back inside of her again.

Now he saw Remus, Tonks and finally Fred’s lifeless body laid out in the great hall.

Ron tried to get the horrible, graphic images out of his head but they just wouldn’t budge.

He slowed his rhythm almost to a halt entirely - and felt the blood and the excitement of his arousal slowly shift away from his penis.

His eyes opened slightly and Hermione shot him a curious, concerned look.

“Are you alright?” she murmured.

Lavender – dead.

Remus – dead.

Sirius – dead.

“Ronald?”

Mad Eye – dead.

Tonks – dead.

Dobby – dead.

Dumbledore – dead.

Fred… Fred… dead.

“They’re all gone,” he mumbled, as he felt the hot tears began to form in his eyelids.

“They’re all dead.”

The tears began to slowly run down his face, before he quickly began blubbing his eyes out.

Hermione held him tight for a while, as he buried his face into her bosom and then slowly cried himself to sleep.

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