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#{This conversation is feeling very One Sided|Hiccup's Interactions}
evanpeterspeter · 2 months
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Tate’s Mommy
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A/n: based off the votes, Tate with a mommy kink won! If anyone wants any specific requests, feel free to drop an ask or dm me.
Disclaimer: In no way this story promotes any act of pedophilia or any interactions with a minors. They are both over 18. Thank you! Enjoy.
Tw: Nsfw acts. M receiving, non protected p in v, mommy kink, (potential äge play? Idk) and so on :3
Wc: 1.5k
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After a long exhausting 10 hour shift at the library, tutoring other students in your university, you head into your doom and gloom home, kicking off your beat up Vans against the scuffed walls.
Upstairs is where you headed, to your comfortable bedroom. Your room was full of books, beautiful well fed plants, dim yellow lights and rustic vintage furniture. You still kept some of Tates 'taste' like his Nirvana albums, his radio player, his dirty, well loved Converse and small knickknacks. Looking forward you see a soft bodied boy, in a fetal position, fidgeting with his sock covered toes together, wearing a green striped long sleeve shirt, with a dusty colored blue of his jeans and is facing the other side. "My love?" You spoke softly as you plopped your bag by the door. Walking to him, you gently sat on the bed, caressing his waist and hip. "Baby boy...are you okay?"
No response. "Baaaabbyyyyyy..." you hummed to him, while still continuously rubbing him. You got a sniffle out of him and a soft whimper. "My love? What's wrong?" You sat by the head of the frame, pulling all of him up to your chest. He looked up at you with red watery eyes, his face very flushed and salty, he let out a wail of distress, clinging onto your v neck shirt. "My beautiful, baby boy what's wrong?" He lifted his heavy head to look up at you, with those big beautiful Astrid eyes. "I-I had a nightmare, w-where you left me and when I woke up..you-you weren't here!" He bawled, hiccuping in every other word. "I'm here now, my love. Mommy isn't going anywhere, okay?" "You were gone all day, I thought you left me f-forever!" He puled to you. You pushed his hair out of his flustered, damp face. "And why would I ever do that?" "I-I don't know...cause you don't like me?" You playfully gasp putting your palm to your chest. You earn a small chuckle from the blonde boy. "Why you little-.." you peppered his face is kisses while tickling his sides. He squirms and starts laughing. "Ahh, okay! You win!" He said between his pleas of laughter. You kiss the top of his head and caress his cheeks. "I love you, you are my world. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you were gone. Mommy would never leave you okay?" You glid your thumb over his bottom lip. He gently nodded. "Good boy.." you said in a seductive manner. His eyes shot open and his cheeks became flushed. "Mommy is gonna shower okay? Did you shower?" The blonde nodded and held onto you.
~
Stepping out the shower, you felt so relaxed and refreshed, washing the day away from your body. You wrapped a towel around yourself, heading to your sometimes shared bedroom and then closing the heavy old door. There sits Tate with a big smile on his face, sitting criss crossed on the bed just waiting for you. "Hey, handsome. What are you up to?" You spoke smoothly, drying yourself off. "Watchin ya.." he looked you up and down, biting his lip. "Oh yeah?" You smirked, unraveling the towel around your soft body, you open it up showing off your beautiful frame. His eyes widened and his heart fluttered. Tate instantly put his hand over his crotch to try to hide his growing member. "What's wrong my handsome boy?" You dropped the towel and got on the bed, pushing him flat against the plump mattress. You hovered over his body, straddling his hips, one arm holding you up and the other pinching the bottom of his chin. "You wanna tell mommy what's wrong?" You leaned closer to his face, your lips grazing against his. His breath hitches as you feel his cock twitch against your sopping cunt. "I-I..you make me h-horny y-y/n.." he choked out. You let out a small huff of a chuckle and gently shook your head 'no'. "That's not my name, Love.." you press a soft kiss against his warm lips. He gasped gently and gripped the sheets with his fists. "M-mommy.." he said while fluttering his lids shut. "Good boy.." you deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue dance with yours.
You pulled away from his raw lips and looked into his eyes. He half liddedly smiled at you with his dimples peeking out. "Come here my baby boy." You laid on the bed and pulled him to your chest, he put his gentle lips on your nipple and suckled on it while he palmed himself. You arched your head back in pleasure, feeling your bunch soaking the bed sheets.
Looking back down at the beautiful dirty blonde boy, suckling on your nipple. You pull him off your tit by cupping his face. "You've been such a good boy, Tate..mommy's going to reward you now." You moved him to the side, crawling to in between his legs, palming his cock through his pants. He lets off a small sigh of relief. You unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his thighs, then soon after his boxers. When pulling his boxers down his cock sprung up, smacking against his happy trail. "So hard for me..good boy.." you stroked his cock and kissed his hot pink tip. His precum seeped onto your lips like a gloss, you licked your lips, licking his salty juices off. He let off a breathy moan and tries thrusting his hips. You shook your head 'no' while still stroking him. "No no my love. Have patience." You wrapped your lips around his head and sucked on it. He grabbed the back of your head and squeezed a fist with your hair in his hand. You let off a small moan, pulling off with a sucking sound. He let out a whimper and bucked his hips, waiting for some more friction. You giggled and wrapped your lips around his impressive length and went down to the base of his member, your nose muzzling in his patch of blonde hair. You bob your head up and down while looking up at him. His head and eyes were rolled back as he enjoyed every moment. You pulled off with a pop and started kissing the sides of his cock, then stroking it at a fast pace. "Such a good boy." You kissed his inner thigh, leaving lovebites on him. "Mmmm...I'm gonna c-cum.." you instantly stopped and pulled away. He raised his eyebrows and pouted. "Noooo...please mommy?" You shook your head with a big grin plastered on your face. "I need you, please mama?" He whined softly. He grabbed his member but you promptly smacked his hand away. "No touchy.." his eyes water as he bucks his hips in frustration. "P-please.." he said as his voice cracked. "Okay okay..since you said please..I will reward you." You kissed his tip and crawled up on him.
You had your cunt against his throbbing member, rubbing it from your soft wet entrance to your tender bundle of nerves, up and down stimulating yourself.
Slowly lowering yourself onto his shaft you softly wince at his thickness and length, stretching out your core. "Mm fuck, baby.." you moaned. Finally lowering yourself onto the base, then you gently bounced on his cock. Tate let out some mouthy moans and held onto your hips to help keep pace. You tossed your head back, in bliss and pain, feeling how deep he hits in you. You fall forward and crashed lips as you rode him fast and hard. You felt your clit rub friction against his base, causing you to start feeling your core tighten. "I-I think I'm gonna cum.." whimpered Tate. "G-go ahead baby.." not long after saying that, your climax hit a high and you finished, tightening around his cock. You felt his thick white ropes fill you up, so much that it leaks down his shaft, while still pumping in you. He lets his small rabbit humps come to an end and then he turns limp on the bed.
You look up at his soft flushed face and pulled him into a bonded kiss. Once pulled away, he looked at you with his eyes heavy. You couldn't help but smile at his exhaustion. "I love you.." you whispered.
"I-I love you too.." he uttered back.
You pull off of his now relaxed member and he lets out a soft groan. You giggle and went to the restroom to freshen up and brush your teeth.
Once you came back, you wiggled his boxers back on and took the jeans completely off of him. Laying in bed you put the sheets over yourselves and he curled up on your chest, peacefully resting against you.
"Good night my love.."
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Tag list: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry
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fazbear-fangirl · 3 months
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Part 1
~ Eight Years Ago ~
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The party had been fun. Only a couple of hiccups.
The first was when Sophie had seen all the wonderful gifts her classmates had brought. However, after tearfully coming clean to the birthday girl’s mom, she was met with understanding, and even brought to the gift shop to pick out something to give her.
After that, there isn’t a care in the world. They start in the arcade, where Sophie is very bad at the games, but more entranced by the graphics in the screen and - more importantly - by the massive, spider-like bot that waves at her from overhead. The birthday girl is a Roxy fan, so the raceway it is, and in spite of her defeat, Sophie feels like she’s flying in the speeding go-cart. Then she and her classmates eat pizza and watch dazzling, sparkling robots put on a show that’s slightly too loud, but that Sophie enjoys anyway. Freddy comes to the table and Sophie watches in awe as his stomach opens up to reveal! The birthday cake! How does that even work, she wonders…
Since Roxanne Wolf is the birthday girl’s favorite, she makes an appearance too, posing for pictures with Freddy and the party and signing autographs for whoever asks. Sophie watches Freddy interact with the party in complete awe, listening to how he whirrs, honing in on his perfectly articulated limbs, watching his eyes move. How is he having conversations, she wonders. Isn’t he a robot? Did they predict these exact questions and how to answer them? Or is somebody else in a secret side room with a microphone?
Her line of thought is interrupted by a liquid noise and a loud sizzling, sparking sound.
“HEY!” shouts the calm voice that had taken Sophie to the gift shop. Several of the other parents stand up, and the birthday girl starts to wail.
Sophie, along with every other kindergartener, turns around with big, stunned eyes, to find Roxy, who was knelt on the floor to talk to her biggest fan, spazzing and sparking. Something sticky and orange drips from her joints, and the class troublemaker is standing behind her with an empty pitcher and a shit-eating grin.
“It’s just like in the movies!” he exclaims loudly. “When you dump water on the robot!”
Immediately, Sophie turns around and starts wandering around the room.
The birthday girl’s mom looks helplessly at the other parents. Her daughter is still crying.
“It’s like in the movies!” the boy repeats. “It’s like on TV!”
“YOU KILLED ROXYYYYYY!” the birthday girl wails.
“She’s just a robot!” huffs the boy, looking steadily more unsure of himself and therefore angry. “My mommy told me she’s just like a big doll! She’s not real!”
“YOU’RE A MEANIEEEEEEE!”
Roxy, for her part, looks like she’s trying to put her hand to her forehead, but keeps jerking oddly halfway. She gives a glitchy groan.
Sophie clambers up onto a chair and grabs a pile of napkins in her clunky baby fingers. She walks over to Roxy, drops the pile on the floor, grasps at the one on top a couple of times, then rests a little fistful of napkins into a jittering joint.
“It’s okay, Roxy,” she whispers. She’s not really a big talker, and these words are as quiet as possible. She reaches up and strokes Roxy's shiny acrylic hair as lightly as possible, her tiny palm barely brushing the glossy strands. “It’s okay.”
The birthday girl falls silent to watch and sniffle, then quickly follows her lead. Soon a crush of kids is surging forward to also pat Roxy with napkins.
“I love you, Roxy..."
"It's okay!"
“He’s just mean.”
“We’re sorry.”
“The rest of us think you’re really cool, Roxy!”
The birthday girl’s mom finds her bearings and hustles forward, waving her arms between Roxy and the horde of kids to get them away. “Alright, let’s- let’s give Roxy a break, guys, okay?”
The rest of the kids back up, but Sophie doesn't even hear her. She’s busy reaching up and pushing the napkin into the casing of Roxy’s neck, where some of the soda has trickled down.
The birthday girl’s mom taps her on the shoulder. “Sophie? Sophie, she’s- she’s okay, get your hand out of her, please, she’s…she’s expensive, Sophie, please."
That last part gets through. Roxy is a very complicated thing, and Sophie is a little girl. She pulls the napkin away and backs up - straight into a metal calf.
Freddy is looming overhead. He watches Roxy, tilting his head. His eyes are glowing yellow.
Roxy's eyes, when she opens them, are also glowing. She makes a little motion like she's waving Freddy off, then gets to her feet.
"Tha-ank you, everyo-one!" she says, smiling out at the small crowd. Sophie notices that even though her voice is glitching, it sounds less...pre-programmed than before. "It is the sup-pport and love from my fans tha-at makes everythi-ing worth it. "Fre-eddy and I have other parties to get to, now - and I thi-ink I need to go freshen up," she jokes.
Everyone else starts to chorus their goodbyes to Roxy, the birthday girl determinedly latching onto her leg. The birthday girl's mom, however, taps Freddy on the chassis over Sophie's head.
"Uh- excuse me- hi. I'm sorry, I don't- uh. Is- is she going to need any serious repairs? Can you answer that?"
Freddy's eyes whir as he blinks. "Rest assured," he says. "This happens all the time. If you look at the itemized email receipt for your Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex Deluxe Party Package, you will find maintenance fees and a small security deposit included in your total."
"Oh thank god," sighs the birthday girl's mom. She turns back to her phone and starts punching buttons. "Yeah, hi? Yes, it's me. No, the party's not over, but I do need you to come pick him up. No, he's okay- he's okay!"
Sophie watches her back away from the main party and start hissing into the receiver. Then she feels a paper tap into her shoulder.
Roxanne is staring down at her, holding out a freshly autographed postcard of herself.
Sophie stares at it. "It's nice," she says politely, her voice barely a squeak.
"Yep! And it's all for you, rockstar!" Roxanne says.
"But I didn't wait in line," says Sophie, looking up at her with big autistic eyes. Roxanne's had kids around her feet the entire party, and the idea of pushing through makes Sophie nervous.
Roxanne winks and tucks it into Sophie's front pocket, then turns her attention back to the birthday girl and picks her up with a laugh.
"YES it was intentional!" the birthday girl's mom hisses behind her. (Sophie turns back around.) "B-because I watched him grab the pitcher and run up and dump it on her! There's- there's cameras in here, there's video footage of the whole incident, do you want to- yes, the bot's okay. No. ...No. I- ma'am, because he is YOUR CHILD! I- hello? HELLO?"
Sophie blinks at her, then feels a heavy hand settle on her back. Freddy Fazbear himself is grinning down at her. "Why don't you keep playing with your friends, superstar?" he asks.
"Okay," says Sophie. She shuffles back into the crowd of kids at the nudge of his paw and continues to stand there staring at nothing, but surrounded by her peers this time.
Moments later, the birthday girl's best friend's mom walks up to the crowd and claps her hands. "Okay, kids, who's ready for some Monty Golf?" she cheers.
Sophie's classmates, hopped up on cake and soda, scream loud enough that it feels like Sophie's ears are vibrating. Their group heads off toward Monty Golf in a chaotic herd.
Sophie looks back at the party room one last time and sees that Freddy and Roxy are waving at the group as they walk away. Sophie gives a rare smile and waves back.
For just a moment, it feels like they're only waving at her.
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writingforfishes · 2 months
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Update
I've added to my pinned post what fandoms I know well enough to write fiction for.
I've had more than one person request a fandom that I'm just not very familiar with and I feel bad continuing to be unable to fulfill similar requests. So, to make things more accessible, I've listed the fandoms I'm currently versed in and interested, myself, in writing for anyone who wants to make a request.
Most of my energy does go to daydreaming about Otto and Atticus. (They're my comfort head space and I like to imagine them in situations not only including hiccups but just being loving and happy with each other.)
Ultimately, this blog is about creating a space of safety and comfort for me. But Tumblr can be a place to connect and fulfilling requests might help that side-goal.
Feel free to request anonymously or do so via direct message. I will never reveal your screen name if you DM me. That's not my intention.
I do want to remind everyone that if you are under 18 and you interact with me, that is against my wishes. I sincerely hope that people take this seriously. I don't want to be misled in having conversations with minors who've contacted me despite my request against it or who have claimed they're older.
I've been a teenager and can remember feeling mature enough to handle sexual conversation. But the truth is, no matter how mature you feel, I do not feel comfortable having kink related conversation with someone under 18. That is a boundary for me. Please respect that.
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steveskafte · 11 months
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EVIDENCE IN YOURSELF It's so hard to admit you're passionate when you're shy. Too often in this culture, we believe that those who feel most deeply are the loudest ones about it. As a kid, being an introvert wasn't exactly a choice – I was just too awkward around people to be anything else. But I remember seeing examples of heartfelt humans, most in books or on the screen, and knowing that it was something meant for me. There's an emotional connection in observing who you'd like to be, a sudden and obvious awareness despite the evidence in yourself. I remember watching movies with a strong romantic element, an intense passion depicted between a man and a woman, and feeling like it was an ideal I could live up to. Turned out much harder in practice. When I was nineteen, I had a short-lived engagement to a girl (let's call her Celia) who was just as shy as me. Truth be told, I never felt much attraction for her. But she was a good friend, and I'd spent my teenage years single – slowly wondering if my childhood dreams of romance were childish after all. It only took a few months to see how the relationship was a chore. I never got excited about spending time together, didn't feel much when I looked in her eyes, and the thrill of conversation never seemed to materialize. In short, we weren't in love. You'd think that'd be easy to recognize, but when everyone in your life seems stuck in shallow attraction or locked in monogamist apathy, who's your example for falling in love? We broke up just before Christmas 2006, a little negative present to end the year. When I was single again, I thought back to fictional romance as an example. Even if those stories were all an illusion, I chose to chase that level of intensity, or remain alone indefinitely. So I spent the next few years trying to be a more genuine version of myself, aiming to get what was inside of me out. I started writing, and bought my first camera, then began this daily journal in the fall of 2007. My main resolution was to look at myself more honestly. What did I hate most? Self-portraits, my image in the mirror. So I made it a goal that at least one of my daily photos would feature me in some way. The hardest thing to overcome was disinterest in myself. In short, I was aiming at becoming the sort of person I'd admired on the male side of imaginary relationships. Now, I don't believe for a second that people are meant for each other. But it didn't take much time to recognize Susy when she showed up. We met through my poetry online, in the early days of 2009, and quickly started messaging daily. Our first phone conversations went so long and late than we'd had less than a dozen before they eclipsed the entirety of my verbal interaction with Celia. Every time she picked up the line, it felt like that buzzing you get just after your ears pop at altitude, light-headed and suddenly focused. Susy was outgoing, extroverted, and so full of heart that it almost scared me. The next year-and-a-half seemed like a build-up to the exact kind of hope a much younger and quieter version of me has once held close. Susy landed at the Halifax airport in the summer of 2010. Everything was electric with her on that first visit, from spinning in the darkness under starlight to climbing waterfalls in the blinding sun. Even though I'd seen her in photos and brief videos, the very last step in falling for her was visual. Sight and touch meant a lot, but her voice came first. All these years later, from our wedding here on through, I still feel that heavy hiccup of being next to the one I love the most. There's no fading novelty. She's the presence I imagined, but better in every sense. Not at all what I thought, nothing that I planned, like the puzzle piece discovered sideways and upside-down – still the perfect fit once you get it all straight. It's important for you to understand that Susy is why I'm still writing now. She made me brave by believing. If one dream can come true, why not another? October 31, 2023 Avonport, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5833 of my daily journal.
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dclicatus · 5 years
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Closed starter for @tragicies​ {Any muse}
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Maybe asking his kids what drinks they wanted to try wasn’t the best choice, since they picked something that they didn’t like which was evident by their facial expressions. Hiccup laughed as he brought his mug of butterbeer to his lips. “So, pumpkin juice is a no go huh?” He questioned, before holding out his drink to Zephyr who was closest to him. “Wanna try mine?” The brunette asked, knowing the two of them would end up liking it. Green hues glanced over at someone near them, as he shrugged his shoulders. “Kids huh? They order things that you tell them they wouldn’t like, just to get your drink.”
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robynlilyblack · 2 years
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The heart wants what it wants
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Sirius Black x fem! reader
[Requested – see request here]
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Summary: Sirius comes and goes from your life like clockwork, lighting up your wold with his presence and leaving you in the cold when he’s gone
Warnings: romantic moments, kissing, angst, swearing, breakup, slight insecure/depressed reader and Sirius, misunderstandings, mentions of sex
A/n: 4.6k words, no house specified but the reader is in the year below Sirius, I haven’t ever written anything based off of a song before and I’m not sure how good I am at big boy angst because I can’t judge it when I write but I hope I did okay x I’m sorry this took so long I’ve been so busy with uni x
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Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist
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Your friends warned you not to get involved when he approached you but did you listen? Nope, never, because the heart wants what it wants and your heart would always be tied to Sirius Orion Black
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You were in your 6th year and he his 7th when he first approached you. You had been sitting in the library with your friends who had since abandoned their studies and wandered off to procrastinated as they ‘looked’ for a book
“Can I sit here?” he gestures to the empty table with three unoccupied seats
You just nod, of course you knew him, everyone did, but you never thought he’d take interest in little old you. He didn’t take one of the two seats across from you like you expected which meant you let out a little hiccup of a gasp when he plopped himself on the seat next to you purposefully on the closer side so your shoulders would brush
After a few moments of Sirius pretending to work, and you doing the same while having a mini panic attack, he speaks “You’re adorable” he smiles to himself not looking at you but you’re sure he can feel your eyes blowing wide
“Thank you” you squeak out in the quietest voice he had probably ever heard which only made him smile more
“You’re welcome darling” he finally looks at you adoring your flustered state, his eyes trailed over you drinking you up while his face wore a small endearing smile “What’s your name?” he asks
“Y/n” you answer timidly
“Pretty” he notes before turning back to actually do work, leaving you slightly dazed but with a warm feeling spreading across your chest
Over the next months these little interactions became normal to you, he would show up lightly flirt and then he would go back about his business. With conversation he would do something similar, ask you something getting to know a bit about you, make you flustered, although he didn’t have to try very hard with that, and compliment you. Sometimes it was in the library like the first time, others it was while you were walking to class and he passed by, and once he walked around with you in Honeydukes when you both so happened to be in there at the same time.
He always showed up when it was just you on your own, he never pestered you either, if you were reading he would just let you do it and sit with you, same when you were studying. Your friends knew all about it, warning you that he was just going to use you like every other girl before you, that he was just taking his time because you were shier, or the worst one was he liked the feeling of playing with you for fun when he was bored. 
Of course, all of those comments went in one ear and out the other, not because you didn’t know better but because you felt like he was genuine, surely if he just wanted to use you he would have asked you out the first time? You did see him flirt with other girls for the first little bit and it hurt, but as he moved onto another girl and forgot about the last one he always returned to you. 
Maybe you were kidding yourself, thinking you were special, different, but there was just the feeling when he was with you, he lit up your world and always left you with a smile plastered on your face for the rest of the day
One day he came across you by Black lake reading, you had gotten used to his sudden appearances although sometimes you felt like he could sense where you were at any given moment. He sat down gently next to you, not saying anything as he looked out over the water, casually leaning back on his arms legs stretched out
You finished the page you were on and slid in your bookmark before placing the book down, bringing your knees up and wrapping your arms around them as you started to stare out at the water as well. You shivered slightly with the little breeze, he seemed to notice sitting forward, copying you with his legs and wrapped his arm around your shoulder loosely, almost like he was judging your reaction.
His grip tightened as you shifted closer “Better?” he asks looking at you
You hum in agreement knowing if you speak it’ll probably be all high pitched, you do however let out a little sound as you feel Sirius lean over and press his lips against the side of your head. He stays there for a second before returning to look back at the water
“Probably rather late to ask this…” he chuckles slightly “…but are you single?”
Your eyes shoot up to look at him, before widening as you realise your proximity “Yes” you whisper nodding your head slightly
Sirius’ lips tug up as his eyes trail over your face, lingering on your lips before he moves a little closer, letting your noses brush “Can I kiss you?”
You don’t say anything, too shocked to process to which a flash of disappointment appears across his face before he begins to move away. You snap out of your shock and half launch yourself forward for a quick peck, before burying your head in your hands embarrassed. You feel him chuckle next to you before his hands pull yours away from your face and he greets you with a warm smile before he leans in to kiss you properly
After that day by the lake it was back to regularly scheduled programming, accept when he approached you he’d always kiss you in some way. Usually on the cheek, forehead or nose, the lips when you were alone or it was quiet and once the neck in the library to which he walked off smirking after he heard the little moan that left your lips followed by your most flustered expression yet. You loved the next norm, the kisses lifted you up like you were floating on air but the cold periods where worse now, leaving you feeling empty until he returned.
Near the end of the year your heart started to ache that you might never see him again, you confessed this to your friends who all told you that was a good thing. Expressing that it’s good you haven’t gone further than kissing with him because that’s the only reason he still comes back, asking you if he had told you whether you were exclusive or not, or if you’re aware he might be still off kissing other girls since he flirts with everyone. You couldn’t answer, you didn’t ask if you were anything more to him that an occasional kiss, you felt like you didn’t need to like both of you just knew and were on the same page. Of course, they voiced how naïve it all was but you were in love, your heart didn’t care to listen to reason
A couple of days before the end of term, Sirius found you once more outside reading but in an empty courtyard as most of the students were crowded around your usual spot by the lake
“Hi” he greets as he settles himself next to you, arm lazily around your shoulder as he plants a kiss to the side of your head
“Hi” you lean into him placing down you book next to you
Sirius nuzzles his nose into the side of yours before leaning his forehead against you, taking a deep breath “I’m going to miss our little meetings” he confesses before pulling back
“Me too” you admit turning to look at him, heart dropping with knowledge this could be the last time
He brushes some hair from your face “Pretty girl” he compliments
“What happens now?” you ask being brave and asking a question about you and him for the first time
“What do you mean?” he looks at you confused “I graduate and become…well I haven’t worked that out yet but that’s part of the fun it’s it” he laughs, his laugh always made you smile but the way he was puzzled made you realise maybe this wasn’t the same to him as it was to you
“I still have another year to figure that out” you say sadly whilst hoping for him to say something, anything about yours and his future
“With the amount you study you could be anything darling” he kisses your nose, making your lips tug up again
“Pads! Come on” you look over to see James ushering him with Remus and Peter just behind him
“Duty calls, Minnie and Dumbledore won’t prank themselves” he chuckles turning back to you
“So, is this it?” you ask looking up at him with a worried expression but he doesn’t seem to notice
“Yeah, of course it is?” he says with a laugh again puzzled before leaning in to give you a lingering kiss to the lips before another to your nose whispering a quick ‘see ya’ as he runs off
Your mouth dropped as your heart began to shatter, eyes welling with tears as his figure receded. As the tears began to fall you pulled your legs to your chest and let your head fall into them. Was that really the end? Where was the contract you signed that stated this was just until the end of the year, he was so surprised, like he had no idea that he just took your heart with him as he left you alone in the cold. 
You didn’t see him at all the last days, just at meals but you couldn’t look at him without fear of crying in the middle of the great hall. On the train ride home, you rushed off the train first, hoping to spot him when he got off the train, standing right under one of the clocks in clear view. One of your friends noticed you, sensing the imminent heartbreak you were setting yourself up for, soon practically everyone was off the train and you burst out in tears. 
They comforted you as your body left the station while your heart stayed their waiting for him. Your heart didn’t want to believe it was truely over despite the pain in your chest which had spread across your whole body into your hands.
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Sirius noticed you around the end of his 6th year and your 5th, you were just sitting in an empty courtyard reading yourself, content in your own little world. He was waiting for James at the time so he just leaned on the wall nearby and observed you. The way your lips tugged up and giggled or when your mouth parted in surprise, completely enraptured and invested in whatever it was you were reading. After that he started to see you every so often until the end of that year. Over the summer he felt the urge to talk you, ask you questions and get to know you, figure out why you were so interesting.
He had flings with shy bookworms before because he loved his effect on them, but why were you making him feel nervous to approach you? To start he didn’t want to invade your space but as he watched you from afar he noticed the little flash of sadness when your friends changed the conversation back to them or left you by yourself while they ran off doing other things. Eventually he saw you in the library yourself and decided to take a chance. As he sat next to you, there was something oddly fulfilling about the comfortable silence between you as you just enjoyed each other’s company.
He still flirted around, kissed other girls and continued his usual pursuits for a while, but he always gravitated back to you and soon realised no one made him feel so seen without having to utter a word. At Black lake he took his chance to take things further, test the waters, he saw you as more than a friend or fling, but did you? When you kissed him he felt his heart soar, and it continued to do so with every following kiss.
The day he kissed you he never went further than his natural flirting with anyone else, you never spoke about what you were or put the label, hell he never knew your last name but he felt like there was a mutual understanding. He felt alive when you were with him and when you were apart he couldn’t wait until the next one, being in different years and social circles made it hard for him to see you as often as he wanted but he would always come back, always.
As the year headed towards it’s close, his heart ached that he might not get to see you for a whole year until you graduated as well. He aimed to get your address to write to you and give you his and James’ when they got one, but thanks to their final prank he and the rest of the marauders ended up in all day detention all day for the final two days. He then decided to catch you when you got off the train but time just wasn’t on his side.
“Pads” James calls out “What are you looking for?” he looks at him confused as Peter and Remus exit the train, the latter checking the formers head as he groans in pain clutching his head
Sirius looks around trying to spot you before sighing as he turns back annoyed “I swear I’m going to kill you, all of you” he points between them all
“What did I do?” James shrugs puzzled
“Knowing you it could be anything but me and Wormtail haven’t done anything” Remus eyes James before turning back to Peter “If anything, you’ve done something to him, you alright?” he takes a look at Peters head to see there was a cut where the luggage fell on him
“Yeah…” Peter nods before looking around warily “Can you see spots?” he asks in a state that makes him look half-drunk as the concussion starts to set in
“I’ll take him to sit down, you sort whatever’s going on with him” Remus tells James before helping Peter sit down at a nearby bench as he pulls out his wand to heal his head
“Pads” James approaches him concern evident in his voice
Sirius voice was low and broken “I missed her” his expression turned frustrated “Fuck…what never heard a person swear before!” he snaps at a conductor as he gives him a disappointed look before quickly walking on
“Mate it’ll alright” James tries to calm him down
“No, it won’t! I don’t have her address…merlin I don’t even know her last name” he sighs cursing his past self
“You dated this girl for what, give or take 8 months and you don’t know her last name?” James could have laughed if he wasn’t sure Sirius would kill him
“I’m sorry I’m not stalker like you. Mr I knew Lily’s childhood pet before you’d even held a conversation with her” he mocks his friend
“I did not stalk” James defends himself
“Yes, you did I was there!” Peter shouts from afar
“Shut up Wormtail, I can make my luggage his you on purpose this time” he points at his friend before saying a quick sorry as Remus gives him a death glare, he turns back to Sirius “Look why don’t you go to Hogsmeade the first trip and see if you can find her then” he suggests
Sirius felt empty over summer, he felt so stupid for not doing anything sooner, he supposed it was because he was so caught up with you that he just didn’t think. He spent most his days helping James paint their new apartment, doing it the muggle way so he could keep his mind off of things. He wondered was you must think of him, if you would wait for him, if you thought of him as more than a little fling or if you would even want to see him after he left you high and dry.
It was time for the Hogsmeade trip, thanks to Peter he knew which weekend it was. He apparated there around the early afternoon, you had once told him you liked to walk around the streets in the afternoon since it was a lot quieter and everyone was either eating lunch or soaking up the sun near the lake. As he walked slowly around trying to spot you he did feel a bit sick, 4 months since he last saw you kissed you, hating himself for not saying those three little words. You had never gone further than one heated kiss in the library, he wasn’t exactly going to have your first time in one of Finches abandoned broom closets or deep in the books of the library, no, you deserved so much better he wanted to take you out, watch the stars with you and take his time to savour everything, for the first time in his life he wasn’t in a rush he was going to enjoy the journey.
The nervous feeling vanished when he spotted you, he started to smile as he started to walk towards you but wavered when he saw you were with someone. The sick feeling returned in full force as he didn’t recognise the boy you were with as one of your friends, his heart beat out his chest as he watched you laugh at something before the boy reached up and tucked some hair behind your ear. As the boy leaned in Sirius turned away, he wasn’t going to sit there and witness you kiss someone that wasn’t him. He quickly walked away and apparated back to his flat heart shattering.
“How’d it go!?” Lily asks as soon as he appeared
“Bloody fuck…merlin Red” Sirius jumps back having a minor heart attack before he clutches his chest
“Sorry” Lily cringes while James and Remus start chuckling
Sirius turns “Is everyone here?” he looks between the three
“Wormtail couldn’t make it but ya pretty much, so you tell her?” Remus tilts his head waiting in anticipation along with Lily and James
“She was on a date” Sirius collapses onto the couch, as their expressions drop “I left it too late…ugh I fuck up everything” his head falls into his hands
The others look among themselves, Lily taking a seat beside him as James took a seat across from him along with Remus “Are you sure it was a date?” Lily checks as she rubs his back
“I’ve done that little hair tuck thing enough times to know what he was going to do next” he grimaces “It was definitely a date”
“Did you talk to her?” Remus asks with knitted eyebrows
“No I left” Sirius leans his head into Lily’s shoulder as she wraps an arm around him “It was stupid of me to think she’d wait…I just thought…” for the first time since he ran away he let himself cry in front of people, Remus got up right away as did James, moving to the seat on his other side as James moved to kneel on the floor in front of him.
After a few minutes Lily turned to him “How did you leave things? Like at the end of the year, maybe she thought that was the end?”
Sirius shakes his head “No wee were perfect, the last time was any other day. Sure, I didn’t get a chance to see her again and give her a proper goodbye but we had gone for a couple weeks before without speaking…I’m so stupid” he mutters the last bit
“You aren’t stupid” Lily reassures him
“What was the last thing you said to her?” James inquires
“Ugh, Minnie and Dumbledore aren’t going to prank themselves I think? Then I got ready to leave and she asked…So, is this it?” he says the last three words slowly as his mouth drops “Oh fuck!” Sirius sits in shock as it dawns on him, hands trailing through his hair as he bunches them up
“What did you say?” Lily eyes him
“Yeah of course it is” he looks half catatonic while lily hits him “Hey!”
“Wait, so you broke up with her?” James looks at him confused and shocked mouth open
“No…well…I said it more like yeah, of course it is…like, yeah I need to…leave” Sirius shuts his eyes tightly “I can’t believe I broke up with her…merlin she probably hates me I just left her like I didn’t care…Imma gonna throw up” he hands his head between his legs as he takes deep breaths, as he sits back upright he turns to Lily “How do I fix this, please red have to fix this”
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You sighed as you lent your head on the window of the train, watching as you slowly pulled into Kings cross “Cheer up y/n it’s the holidays” one of your friends say as the give your knee a little shake
“Sorry” you give them a small smile
“It’s been almost 6 months y/n” your other friend gives you look mixed with worry and annoyance “You need to move on” she insists
“I don’t want to” you snap at her “My heart wants him” you say quietly taking a deep breath
“And he didn’t want you” she claps back rather harshly making you wince
“Gal” your other friend warns, a look a disappointment on his face
“No I’m not going to teeter around this subject anymore, you need some tough love” she turns to you “He was and will always be a player, he came and gone from your life like clockwork showing up getting you attached like he was some kind of drug and now you need to detox”
“It wasn’t like that…” you defend frowning
“Merlin y/n you need to grow up” she says huffing as she picks up her bag “I can’t sit her and watch you suffer like this anymore…have a nice holiday” she shakes her head giving you one last look as she wishes you both before taking her leave
“I know she went around that the wrong way but she had a point” your other friend gives you a sad look “What ever happened to that date? You didn’t want to talk about it after” he asks as he lifts down some of his own luggage
“He tried to kiss me” you cringe remembering the moment
“Did you kiss him back” he tilts his head
“No, I slapped him” you say hesitantly
“Gal” he looks at you in shock “Seriously, you can just say no thanks” he lets out a small laugh as he imagines sweet little you slapping someone
“I did but then he said every knew I had a thing with Sirius so I should stop being a prude and playing innocent, then he called me a…a mean word starting with s and ending in t” you scrunch up your nose
“Oh, well next time punch him and break his nose, or call me and I’ll do it…actually I’ll just throw a Bludger at his head next year” He stands up and picks up his bags while you giggle at his comment “I won’t tell you what to do because you aren’t going to listen, but please take some time to think about this, this isn’t healthy” he gives you a kiss to the forehead and a hug before leaving
You sluggishly got your bags and such together and headed off the train, slowly pushing your trolley towards the little coffee stand you always went to for something to eat before you headed home. As you approached you could have sworn you saw Sirius for a second in the swarm of people, stopping you stare into the crowd. As some people parted you saw him already looking at you, your favourite flowers in hand.
You just stood there frozen as he approached you slowly, when he was about 10 feet away you snapped out of your daze walking right up and wrapped your arms around his torso tightly. His face looked confused as you approached, wincing a bit as he must have thought you were going to slap him. It took less than a second before he returned it sighing in relief as his lips tugged up, breathing in your scent.
As you pulled apart your hands stayed clutching the material of his shirt at his sides while his along with the flowers stayed behind your back “Hi” he breaths out
“Hi” you whisper back meeting his eyes
“I had this whole speech planned” he lets out a laugh “I didn’t expect a warm embrace you see” he leans his forehead on yours for a moment before pulling back “The premise was…umm…fuck it” you let out a small giggle “I love you” he says genuinely “I love you and I’m so sorry” he cups your cheek with his free hand
You tilt your head, lips parted at his confession “You love me?” you confirm, making sure you heard that right
“Yes, so much. I…I didn’t mean to break up with you I only realised I actually in October after a conversation with Lily, who hit me more than once afterwards…actually Wormtail did too” he cringes pressing a kiss to your forehead “I’m so sorry, I’m probably the world’s biggest idiot…”
You let out a little laugh, finding his ramble cute and your heart soaring as you were right, he did love you and you were so happy you never gave up “I love you too” you confess
His face lights up “You do? Even after what I did?” he looks at you hopefully, lips tug up into a thankful smile as you speak
“Yes…I never not stopped” his smile widens as he dips down to kiss you properly but hesitates as your noses touch “what?” you pout
He pulls back slightly, licking his lips “We were technically broken up at the time so I’m not upset in any way but…but are with anyone or been with anyone. I saw you at Hogsmeade on a date” he admits, insecurity evident in his voice
“You did?” you cock your head confused but your heart fluttered that he came to Hogsmeade to see you
“Yeah” he nods “I left before I saw him kiss you…I just couldn’t watch…” his expression is pained before he sees you grinning at him “what?” his own face soften as he can’t help but smile with you
“You left before the good bit” he looks a taken aback which makes you giggle “You left before you saw me slap him”
His eyes widen in happiness “You didn’t kiss him?” you shake your head making him throw the flowers onto your trolley as he lifts you up and spins you around, kissing you all over your face as he does while you squeal giggling. As he sets you down he finally registers what you said “Wait you…” he lets out a surprised yet proud laugh “you slapped him?”
“Little bit” you bite your lip “He called you mean things and said I was a…slu… a not very nice word” you couldn’t say it
A smile graced his face as he heard you defended him before it hardened as he knew what word it was “Give me his name and the marauders will end him, we might have graduated but no one messes with my girl” he cups your face
“Your girl?” you smile at him
“My girl” he says softly, leaning in to capture your lips in a long overdue kiss
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bloodwrittenballad · 3 years
Text
All The Things I Didn’t Say | Gyeong-Su x Reader
Summary: You made it to the rooftop, but he didn’t…
Warnings: Canon major character death, angst, pain.
You were exhausted, both physically and mentally.
The last few days of your life had been hell, filled with never ending death and nightmares. The amount of horror and gore you’d witnessed, was by far enough to ensure the fact that you’d never watch another scary movie again. That, and the fact that your usual movie watching partner was now walking amongst the sea of dead beneath you in the courtyard.
Gyeong-Su…
The very thought of him made your eyes burn with tears once more, your hand which he used to hold now cold and covered in blood. His blood. You looked down at your palms, the red color reminding you of nothing more than your failure to protect the one person you loved most.
Guilt plagued your mind, your entire being. You’d never felt so pained, so lost. Gyeong-Su was your best friend, he had been since childhood. You two were undeniably soulmates. If only you could’ve told him how you really felt, before everything…
Your name being spoken gently broke you out of your thoughts, unaware that you’d gone from looking guiltily at your stained hands to staring deeply into the fire. You blinked and looked up to see everyone looking at you, all holding concerned expressions.
“Hm?” you hummed in question, as you tried to ignore the pounding in your head. Between the lack of sleep and water, plus the crying and fighting, you had been getting your fair share of headaches.
“Are you okay?” It was On-Jo who asked you, the kind girl sitting across from you. You didn’t have the energy to return the smile she gave you, nor did you have the energy to give a direct lie, so you nodded and ignored how it made your head hurt even worse.
Though not completely convinced by your answer, everyone luckily dropped it and moved on, starting conversations and stories with one another. You didn’t speak much, only giving small forced laughs and teasing comments when the others mentioned embarrassing memories.
Soon everyone had somehow got on the topic of crushes, something you weren’t particularly keene on talking about. You slowly interacted less and less, hoping they’d pick up on it and not ask you about it. However, you weren’t so lucky, considering your friends and schoolmates alike were quite nosey.
“What about you, y/n,” Daesu asked you, “who is your crush?” He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. Cheong-San, who could sense you weren’t exactly the most comfortable, shot the other boy a warning look. Daesu ignored it, however, pressing the matter.
It seemed like others in the group wanted to know as well. You tried to keep your eyes low as you focused on keeping your voice steady, when you answered “No one.” Was all you needed to say, it was all you had to say. However, it wasn’t as convincing as you hoped it would be, because the tears in your eyes were proof enough that anything you had said that night was a lie.
Everyone sat at the fire, watching as your seemingly calm and careless facade broke. You couldn’t hide the feelings you’d been pushing away, the hurt and the pain from the love and loss you’d suffered. “Y/n,” Cheong-San’s voice mumbled gently, as the boy had moved from his spot on the other side of the fire to sit by you and pull you into him comforting arms.
“I didn’t even get to tell him, Cheong-San!” You wailed into the arms of the boy, who had been your best friend for years and knew of your crush on Gyeong-Su. “I-I was gonna tell him, a-after school,” you hiccuped as you tried to speak, the tears and your lack of water over the last few days didn’t help.
“I was gonna give him my name tag on the way home, he was gonna walk with me… b-but then this all happened and before I knew it we were in the classroom hiding. I- I shouldve just told him then!” Cheong-San just listened as you cried and told him about your plan, even if he had already known.
You had texted him the night before about it, telling him that you were finally ready to let Gyeong-Su know. Cheong-San had been so happy to hear, especially when he knew how Gyeong-Su felt about you. “I shouldve told him…” you mumbled into your friends shoulder, your cryihg making you even more exhausted as you slumped in Cheong-San’s arms.
“He knew,” Cheong-San told you. “He knew. And he loved you too…”
While Cheong-San’s words did help slightly, it still would never be enough. It still would never fix the pain or fill the void, it would never give you a true answer or reaction like the one Gyeong-Su would’ve given you. Instead all you had was hope that what Cheong-San said was true, and that Gyeong-Su did love you too.
All you wished, was so you could go back in time and tell him sooner. But now you were stuck with all the things you didn’t say, and an answer you’d never get.
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finelinevogue · 3 years
Note
Omg yes of course! Though I would like to see a dad Harry or a wedding related blurb and/or imagine :))
Have a great day!!
dadrry is my favourite! let’s go!!
September 14th. The dreaded day.
This day had been a long time coming and one that you hadn’t properly prepared yourself for. Harry was very relaxed about it all, teasing you when you cried for being such a wuss. Your emotions just seemed to overrule your mind and the tears were out once more.
“I don’t want her to!” You sobbed against Harry’s chest like a big ol’ baby.
Both of you were cuddled up on the couch, you snuggled tight into Harry’s side. His arm was around you back and laying rest on your waist, whilst he constantly gave you forehead kisses to soften your cries. The TV was playing some quiz show, but neither of you were watching anymore.
“Lovie, she has to.” Harry softly laughed at how ridiculous you were being, but at the same time keeping himself strong because he, too, wanted to cry now.
“But she’s too young!” You whined louder than a 3 year old being denied sweets.
“Y/N, love, she’s five. It’s time okay?”
“No. She’s my little girl.” You pouted, tears in your eyes but no longer streaming down your face.
“And she still is your little girl. Mine too. She’s just going to little people school now,” Harry kisses your cheek as you looked up at him, “she’s going to learn so many new and exciting things, yeah? She’ll make so many friends - if she’s anything like her parents, which believe me she is.”
You laughed at his attempt to cheer you up a bit. You weren’t ready to admit to yourself that your baby was going to school. It felt like yesterday you were taking her home from the hospital and beckoning to her every cry, now she was so independent for a 5 year old that you sometimes felt useless.
“She’ll be graduating university before we know it.”
“Baby, I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there!” Harry chuckled, catching a tear from the corner of your eye and wiping it on his joggers.
“Maybe.” You rolled your eyes in agreement with him, but not wanting to admit that out loud.
You tucked your head back against his chest and hugged him tighter, not wanting to feel like you were losing anyone else. You hiccuped your cries away as you finished watching the end of the crappy TV show, before going to bed together and dreading the next day.
••••
“Uh oh.”
The house was frantic this morning and it really didn’t need to be. You were preparing Poppy’s snacks for the day, whilst Harry was double checking the checklist for things she needed and Poppy was eating her breakfast. Well, trying to eat her breakfast.
“Oh Poppy!” You sighed when you saw that the milk from her cereal had gone all over her jumper. Luckily, you were a prepared mum and had bought two of everything. “Ok arms up.” You told her and she did, pausing herself from her Coco Pops.
You threw the dirty jumper into the washing machine and pulled out a clean one from the airing cupboard.
“Here, let me.” Harry offered, seeing as you were still cutting up fruit and vegetables for her.
“Thank you.” Kissing him on the lips before getting back to your station.
“Alright little miss, arms up.” Harry ordered his daughter. “You’re a right messy eater aren’t you?”
“Mhm.” Poppy said, quite flat and quiet.
“Hey Hops, what’s wrong sweetheart?” Harry had forever called his daughter Hops as a nickname, because when she was first trying to say her name she couldn’t pronounce the ‘P’ so would call herself ‘Hoppy’ instead.
Poppy looked down at her cereal as Harry was adjusting the jumper on her accordingly.
You were quietly putting the snacks inside a container as you listened to their conversation.
“Just scared daddy,” she pouted, “I don’t think i’ll make many friends.”
“Hops, listen to me,” Harry made his daughter look at him and crouched down on the floor - so he was now looking up at her, “you’re going to have the best time of your life in school, okay? You’re going to make so many friends and every day is going to be an adventure—”
“Like the ones me and you have, daddy?” Poppy asked excitedly, making you smile to yourself.
“Exactly like that, baby. Except they won’t be as good, because I won’t be there.”
“Well I don’t want them to be as good if you’re not there.” Poppy cupped her dads cheek so softly, it brought tears to Harry’s eyes.
Pull it together, Harry thought.
“You’re going to be safe there Hops, and you’ll just love it.”
“Okay daddy.” She nodded. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Now go brush your teeth and then we’ll go.” Poppy hopped off the chair and went upstairs to brush her teeth - carefully this time.
•••••
Harry just had to bring his fucking huge Range Rover.
You would’ve been quite happy to turn up in your civil Mini Cooper, but no. Harry said first day impressions are the most important and so ‘go big or go home’.
As Harry finally found a parking space big enough to to fit his asshole car in, you were finally at your destination. The first trip to this school of many.
“Alright baby, let’s do this.” You had no idea whether Harry had said that to you or Poppy, but both of you listened and began to climb out of the car. Poppy waited for Harry to open her door and hoist her out of the car - seeing as this stupid car was far too high up for her to climb.
Could you tell you hated this showy car?
Poppy took ahold of both your hands, walking in between you both. She was happily humming to herself whilst you and Harry sussed out the playground. Some children were stood cowered behind their parents legs and some were already playing tag with each other by the swings.
The sound of screaming children was so loud, but it created an atmosphere of happy chaos.
“You okay Hops?”
“Yep!” Poppy was more than excited now - she just wanted the day to start.
You and Harry went to go and stand over by some other parents who were just as lost as your family was.
“Hi? Excuse me,” you waited for them to turn around, smiling with happy faces - their daughter stood behind one of her dad’s legs in fear, “do you know where the Reception students are supposed to go right now?”
“Someone said they’d be out in five minutes to round them all up, I think.” One dad spoke back.
“Thank you!” You reached out your hand to shake theirs, “Hi i’m Y/N Styles. This is my husband, Harry and my daughter Poppy.”
“Nice to meet you. Archie and Felix Johnson. This our daughter, Millie.”
Everyone introduced themselves by shaking hands, but what surprised you all was the interaction between your two, seemingly, timid daughters.
“Hi Millie! Would you like to be my friend?” Poppy walked up to her and asked politely. Millie had appeared from behind her parents and excitedly nodded her head in yes.
•••••
After school Poppy was a bundle of energy and happiness. She couldn’t wait to talk about her day with her two favourite people.
“So how was school then, sweetheart?” You asked her on your car journey back home.
“It was so really good,” her grammar not being entirely correct, but you not having the heart to correct her yet, “and there’s this boy in my class…”
As she continued to talk you looked to Harry with a smirk, seeing his face full of disgust and soft anger. Harry spoke one final time, before your attention was fully dedicated to Poppy.
“She’s moving schools.”
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genshin-impacted · 4 years
Text
lost & found // Diluc x Reader (3/3)
Word Count: ~6.5k
Notes: Seelie!Reader, GN!Reader, Diluc/Reader, Mondstadt people interaction + Mondstadt Archon Quest, mild violence/fighting description and mentions of blood, Diluc POV briefly, mainly reader!POV
Summary: Oftentimes you find yourself wondering about your life before becoming a seelie, but with Diluc by your side, you don’t let yourself dwell on the long-gone past-- not when Diluc offers you affection and a tenderness that no one else is privy to. 
But on moonless nights, you let yourself wish upon a star.
(And sometimes, in this world ruled by the Gods and their stars, wishes are granted.)
Alternatively: Diluc has never asked you or needed you to change for him to love you.
[Part 2]
-
(thanks for the love for this fic! here is the final addition)
.
.
Diluc breathes out and sees the fog it makes in the frigid air of Dragonspine. The world continues to remind him that he’s lucky to have his Pyro vision, and again he’s inclined to agree that it’s a useful tool indeed. He cannot melt the snow that falls on the peaks of these mountains, but even he must admit that his flames have served him well in this icy winterland-- until it doesn’t. 
His phoenix burns through ruin guards and hunters alike, along with the icy foothold beneath him, and he falls into this cavern with no way up. He thinks it’s ironic that he’s the one that led himself into this predicament and attests it to your influence as his trouble-finding seelie.
Diluc huffs as he dusts off the snow from his shoulders and continues further into the hole he fell into, leaving tracks wherever he can so that you can find him. He knows better than anyone what you can do, and he knows that you cannot find him if he doesn’t leave clues. 
It is neither a surprising nor disappointing revelation to him. Diluc has always known that there is nothing special that binds the two of you together-- and perhaps that is why he cherishes what the two of you have. There is no contract, no string of fate, no hand of god that has put the two of you together or convinced the other to stay. You have chosen to stay with Diluc, and Diluc has chosen to let your presence change his life bit by bit.
Ever since coming back to Mondstadt, he has slowly grown more accustomed to working with other people, though with your appearance, his change has been accelerated. For with every adventure you drag him into, he meets new people, forming different teams. He’s helped Razor handle his broadsword better, and now he visits him ever so often to let him spar to his content. He let his stars be read by Mona, despite his initial hesitance (apparently, you are very into astrology), and can now see the constellations form above him much more clearly. And while he has never seen the need to be closer to his god, Venti sees the both of you more often outside of the tavern, and he sees a glimpse of Barbatos within the wind-weaving bard. 
You are a comforting presence: straightforward, easy to read, and compassionate. And he does not resist, much like everyone else, when you twirl your way into his heart. It is no longer surprising for him to understand that he does not need to be alone on the dark side of dawn when you have chosen to accompany him.
Speaking of choice, Diluc thinks irritably, wringing out the water from his hair. How did he agree to wander around Dragonspine of all places? He must have been caught up in the logistics of the experiment itself as well as your easy agreement. Diluc is admittedly the only person that understands your every nuance (or, well, most of it; some twirls are lost in translation), but even he cannot quite decipher what you want to take from this experiment of Albedo’s. 
When you find him-- which you will, he will ask you, and he thinks you will tell him as best as you can. For someone that cannot speak, you are the most honest individual in his life, which is something he has repeatedly found endearing and refreshing.  
Diluc climbs up the side of a cliff near the camp, only to see Albedo and Sucrose discussing at the edge of it. He briefly wonders if the experiment has ended, but when he does not see your light between the two of them, his breath hitches in the momentary panic he finds all too familiar to when he lost you the first time. 
Albedo spots him before he can speak. “Master Diluc, I’m relieved to find that you’re safe," he says briefly, and Diluc can at least respect how quickly the alchemist gets to the point, because he continues quickly. “Your seelie left to go find you before we could assess the situation.” He sighs as Sucrose frantically hands Diluc a towel to dry himself and a seat. “You gave them quite the scare, disappearing on us like that.” 
“You mean they’re out there on their own right now?” Diluc presses, feeling his hackles raise.
“Yes. We’re going to go out to recount your steps-- undoubtedly, your seelie will be trying to find you--”
Diluc doesn’t need to hear anything else. He holds the towel to Sucrose who nervously puts her hands up, unsure on what to do. “I’ll go find them,” he says. “The experiment is finished now, right?” 
“Do not go." Albedo sighs, and however Diluc thought of him before, it’s evident now that he is, above all else, frustrated with how things have turned out. “It’s my experiment and a miscalculation on my part. You should stay--”
“I’ll be fine--”
“Your vision does not make you impervious to the climates,” Albedo says calmly. He thinks he sees a gleam of cunning in Albedo’s eyes when he glares at the alchemist. “Besides, would your seelie be happy if you got yourself sick going to find them?” And Diluc cannot respond to that. 
“That being said,” Albedo continues, pulling at his gloves. “I predict you will refuse to stay here permanently. As it’s my fault, I’ll provide you with at least a potent heating potion before you go. Please wait; it won’t take long.”
“...Thank you,” Diluc says, taking back his towel much to Sucrose’s relief. When he sees Albedo head off onto his alchemy table, he sighs and settles into his seat. Where could you have gone, he thinks, drying his hair. After leaving the waterfall, he had… climbed the clifftop. Perhaps you lost him there without any way to notice which way he went afterward, which was a mistake on his part. Perhaps he should--
Diluc pauses his train of thought and instinctively turns his head to the left where he sees you floating. And the relief, oh, the relief he feels when he sees you fly toward him makes smiling easy. “There you are. I was about to go look for you since you weren't with Albedo." He swallows, beginning to breathe easy again. "I was worried," he admits, "I--" He stops abruptly when he looks up at you.
You are crying, and he almost does not know what to do. 
He didn’t realize you could cry. Diluc isn’t sure if he can even call them tears-- these globby droplets that disappear when they fall off your body that, when Diluc brushes them away, does not make his gloves wet. 
But he sweeps them away when they come anyways. “Hey,” he says tenderly, as you raise your voice from distress. “It’s okay. I’m fine; I’m here.” He cups your small orb-like body and listens to you as best as he can, sweeping his hand over your head and ears soothingly until your hiccup-like speech slows down to a halt. 
“You found me,” he tells you firmly. “You found me.” He repeats himself until you are warm in his hands and his hair is dry, the towel left forgotten on the ground.
Even when you have long calmed down, he continues to look over his shoulder to watch as you converse with Sucrose. “Did you get what you were looking for?” Diluc asks the alchemist, who hands him the warming potions for any emergencies. 
“Yes. Simply put, your mini seelie does not choose what it finds.” Albedo explains, “However, based on previous observations, they can hone in on things that are… otherworldly. You may be glad to confirm that you are, in fact, not otherworldly. And though this was not my intended result, I also would like to inform you that their attachment to you is out of their own volition…” Albedo watches in barely concealed amusement as Diluc glances over at you again. “Though, I’m sure you already knew this.” He clears his throat. “I would like to offer them future experimentation if they are willing.”
Diluc does his best not to look confused, but his pause gets the better of him. “Why are you asking me?”
Albedo only arches his brow and asks as a matter-of-fact, “Are you not each other’s keeper?” He continues without pause to quickly go over any logistics he has remaining, the details of Dragonspine (lest he fall into a pit again), before going over to talk to you briefly. Diluc wonders what the alchemist talked to you about but he decides to let the questions be asked later.
For now, you twirl up to him, beaming at him more brightly than usual, and he does not have it in him to say anything other than, “Let’s go home.”
.
.By the time the two of you arrive at the winery, it is dark. You do not hesitate to corral him into getting ready for sleep, and he indulges you by not protesting.
“What did you want to get out of the experiment today?” Diluc asks you, untying his hair and placing it onto his nightstand. Before he can finish his question, you bury yourself into his hair, and he thinks that your tweets and trills sound very much like laughter. He chuckles. “Avoiding the question, are you? How very unlike you,” he teases, and he knows you hear him when he looks into the mirror and sees you peek out from underneath the red and squeak indignantly.
“I’m kidding.” Diluc lifts his hair so you can climb out and face him. “You’re the most straightforward person I know,” he says fondly, and he briefly wonders when he has gotten so honest with himself, letting you know how he feels with the amount of emotion he puts into his words to you.  
Sated, you flip around once before settling into his cupped hands, deep in thought. Diluc doesn’t quite understand how your mannerisms make your emotions so recognizable, but he imagines that if you had hands, they would be under your chin in a thinking pose. 
He patiently waits for an answer, walking around his room and blowing out the lights. When he turns off the last one, you can only look up at him and let out a quiet coo-- an apology. His hands are already comforting you the moment after you answer him. 
“It’s alright,” Diluc says. “I suppose it’s not exactly easy to explain that.” He adds on immediately, “And don’t apologize again. It’s fine.” 
“I think I can understand why without you telling me,” he says, and if his voice is a little raw, he hopes it goes by unnoticed. “It’s hard, isn’t it-- not knowing what you’re supposed to be doing."
Quietly, you float up, and Diluc feels his heart tremble when you press a kiss to his forehead in a mix of an apology, a comforting notion, and an act of love. He lays down in silence with you, and if you make a nest out of his hair, and if he wakes up with you nestled at the crook of his neck, he does not say a word.
There is no need.
.
.
“Isn’t it enough?” Lisa asks him as she leans over the library railing. Diluc looks over to her as he puts away the last of the books he has asked to borrow, and he knows what she is asking before she finishes. Still, she tilts her head, her hat staying steady on her head, and repeats, “Isn’t it enough that they’re here with you?”
“Yes,” Diluc says without hesitation. “It is.” 
“Can I ask why you’re still researching about seelies then?” Lisa pauses, putting her hand over her shoulder, and Diluc knows she will arrive at the right answer without him telling her. “If not for you then… for them? You’re looking for answers for your mini seelie?” 
"I try to do what I can," he says, ignoring the way Lisa's eyes gleam all too knowingly. (He always knew there was much more to her at first glance.) "Thanks for the help, I--" He pauses when he catches Lisa smiling behind her fist. "...What is it?" he asks warily. 
"Oh, nothing." Lisa croons, giggling, "I just think it's sweet how the two of you treat each other. Anyone would get jealous of that." She pauses, looking out the window as the sun sets in the west. "It almost seems like a miracle to have the two of you find each other, don't you think? Fate, perhaps? How utterly romantic!"
"You're letting Kaeya influence you too much," Diluc retorts, much to Lisa's amusement.
"Maybe so," she says, sighing, "but even if it was fate, you wouldn't have cherished them any less." She gives Diluc a pointed look even he cannot deny. "Isn't that right, Master Diluc?"
Diluc huffs, walking past her to head down the stairs. "Asking that, I'm sure you already know my answer," he tells her, and he lets his mouth twitch in a semblance of a smile when he hears her complain about his tight-lipped attitude. It blossoms into a full-blown smile when he starts heading back to the winery.
.
When he comes back, you are waiting for him among the grapevines as the winery is basked in orange light.
He's home.
.
.
.
.
Diluc sleeps early and wakes up before the crack of dawn and takes you up the clifftop overlooking the winery. He had told you that there was something he wanted to do and left it at that. Not that you minded-- you were happy to follow him, blocking out any sharp rocks so he wouldn’t grab ahold of them as he climbed and scaring off any elemental wisps that came your way. 
When the two of you reach the clifftop, the sky begins to grow brighter as the sun peeks over the horizon. The color change from blue to yellow then orange is truly beautiful, and you are almost mesmerized as Diluc takes a seat down next to you, watching the sunrise. 
“...It’s almost been a year now,” Diluc says, “since we first met.” 
Happy Anniversary? You squeak in confusion, only to whip your body to face him when you realize why you’re here with him at dawn to watch the beautiful scene unfold before you. You squeak rapidly, stumbling over your words that he cannot hear but can understand anyhow. You hadn’t realized-- You were an idiot for not planning anything either, not that you could-- What kind of ore could you go find to bring to him as a present--? 
“Thank you,” Diluc tells you, “for the past year.” In the backdrop of the rising sun, you think he is almost too bright to watch with that gentle smile of his. The thought is only exacerbated when he cups you in his hands as softly as he has always done. “Let’s see what this year has in store for us together.” 
You trill softly, floating in the air to situate yourself on top of his head to watch the ocean shine brighter with the rising sun. 
It is not the New Year for any country nor culture, but you look into the horizon and make a wish that no one can hear. One year has passed, many things have changed, but you find that the one thing that has not is your adoration for Diluc.
"Let's go back home," he tells you, not for the first time, when the sun rises substantially above the horizon. Obediently, you float down into his sights where you twirl playfully in the air in thanks for the view. He chuckles. "No problem," he says, and he leans down just enough to place a quick kiss in between your ears.
(In hindsight, perhaps you should have wished for more kisses in the following year if you thought that was actually something you could wish for.)
.
.
.
Like the beginnings of a new arc, you lead Diluc onto the start of another campaign that lasts longer than normal and ties in with the previous adventures you have had with Diluc.
You find Aether on the shores east of Mondstadt. Diluc can only look at you curiously when Aether reveals his visionless powers and his desire to find his sister, for if there were ever any need for corroborating evidence on your talent or ability, Aether is living proof of it.
With the traveler, you resolve many of the things that neither you nor Diluc could comprehend. The red, crystalline tears are purified, the winds calm down with Dvalin’s defeat, and Venti-- or should you say, Barbatos-- as usual, disappears in a wisp of dandelions to leave the City of Freedom to its autonomy. In the breezes of Mondstadt, you can feel his protective gaze upon the city, and more often than not, you find him wandering in the tavern, looking for a quick drink that Diluc offers ‘reluctantly.’ (You know him better now; Diluc would rather hug Kaeya than admit that he cares for the people in his life more than he shows, and Venti is one of the people he can find a fondness for. You still find yourself abashed to know that you are the only one Diluc can say unashamedly and wholeheartedly that he adores you-- in his own way.)
Aether’s presence in Mondstadt is a breath of fresh air, considering how compassionate he is and how willing he is to help with the common troubles of those in the city. He is led along by Kaeya, tugged onto an impromptu date by Lisa, and given a mask to go undercover with Diluc and help him in ways that you cannot. The tug of jealousy is unfamiliar, but you are more glad than anything that Aether can be his partner during the most dangerous of missions. You tag along as moral support and as a guiding post-- and for that, you find yourself most similar to Paimon, who, for some reason, keeps being compared to emergency food. 
“You’re my companion,” Diluc tells you with finality when you look up at him, barely forming the thought in your head about being his emergency food. “Don’t doubt that.”
Turns out, people can not breathe when you are covering their entire face with your translucent body.   
When the dust settles, you never think of turning Aether down when he asks you if you can sense whether his sister is in Mondstadt. 
You leave with Aether and Paimon with the promise that you return to Diluc at the winery. You guide the two of them to Stormterror’s Lair, a place you have gotten far more acquainted with in the past month, and head up to the cliffside where a ruin guard’s footprints remain next to a dandelion. You can sense something here, though you are unsure of what, and you are about to apologize for finding nothing when Aether looks over to you with wet eyes.
You coo up at him comfortingly as he sighs with a mixture of relief and sadness. “Thank you,” he tells you, holding out his hand. You press against it, and you hope he knows that the best you can do to imitate a comforting hand-hold. “At least now I know for sure she’s here in this world.” He smiles at you. “This gives me a lot of hope that I’ll find her, so… thank you, really.” 
Aether leaves for Liyue in the next few days, and if you had known he would leave so soon you would have done more than held his hand. You wish you could comfort him, reassure him that his sister, too, must be looking for him just as hard as he was. (Even if this was not the truth, you think if you wish hard enough, you could maybe manifest it for him.) You have so many words within you and yet none of them are conveyed, and Aether’s sad smile stays. 
It gets hard sometimes, knowing how little you can do, and how much you could have done before-- and this is one of those moments. It is rare for you to feel melancholy over the things you no longer have, but they come and go like the waves on Falcon Coast. Without a word, Diluc can tell when you are feeling down, holding you when you fall into his hands. 
His kisses come more often now, and he places one between your ears when you are with him during your lower moods. You think your day improves almost immediately when he does so, but it helps tremendously also that Diluc never forgets to reassure you.
“If you want me to help you with anything,” he says, “you only need to ask."
You coo again, twirling once, nudging at his cheek before backing away just enough to look at him. If you had a heart (and you sometimes suspect you do), it would be beating quickly as you wait for him to decipher your actions.
“...Ah,” he says, picking you up again. You think for a moment he looks as embarrassed as you feel, but then he asks, “...Another one?” and places a second kiss onto your head. 
You trill, pleased that you are spoiled by Diluc and even happier that Diluc only joins you in your mirth when he huffs in laughter.
“What an honest seelie,” he says, and you could not be more content with how fond he sounds of you and how, again and again, he continues to be patient with you even when you cannot be patient with yourself.
.
.
Sometimes when the moon is high and Diluc is fast asleep, you find yourself at the place you first came to fruition as a seelie. The lake by the Winery and this exact scenery may as well be your birthplace. When you look into the reflection you see your orb-like features, viscous yet watery all at once, emitting light. 
But sometimes, when the only light is coming from the fireflies that glow beside you, you look into the lake and see a familiar face staring back at you. They have your face-- your eyes, your nose, your mouth, and your brows of a time when you were not a seelie. It’s the only time you get to see this image of your past self, reminding you of what you were before. Sometimes, you think you can hear your voice being carried over by the winds of another world, of another time. 
These moments are the only thing you have kept to yourself. 
After all, what’s the point of holding onto something that you no longer have? The man you’ve grown to care for-- grown to love-- is someone who has his eyes set forward toward the future, and you’re going to be there with him no matter what.
Although seelies cannot dream, you dream of carrying over the tray of tankards and washing the dishes in the tavern, of carrying Klee over your shoulders as you lead her to Albedo, of bumping elbows with Kaeya jokingly or placing a blanket over Jean’s shoulders when she falls asleep in her office again.
You dream of lacing your hands with Diluc’s, pressing your lips upon his temple, and hearing his heartbeat against his chest with a steady, grounding rhythm that reminds you you are home.
And sometimes, just dreaming is enough.
(And sometimes, it is not.)
.
.
Life goes on. You see more of Mondstadt and begin to know the land like the back of Diluc’s hand. Knights and adventurers alike know you as the little seelie, and whether they think you follow Diluc or Diluc follows you is up to each person’s interpretation. (Regardless, none of them are wrong.)  
You accompany Diluc when he trains Razor in Wolvendom, and you invite Bennett to adventure sometimes with the two of you. (The boy may be unlucky, but you’re a magnet of trouble, so you think you have some things in common. A lot more things explode when he accompanies you but Diluc can handle it.) You make sure Jean gets some rest (“Your seelie is, um… very…” “Stubborn?” “I was going to say determined.”) and follow Lisa around on her expired library book expeditions. (“You think she’s beautiful, don’t you?” Diluc says to you, and you wonder why you babble excuses to him-- You’re more beautiful!-- while he looks at you in amusement.)
You and Diluc spend more time with other people in comparison to before, but you still have quiet moments with just the two of you when the days are slow. You’ve been learning how to move small things even better than before, among other things, but with this skill in particular, you can actually slide the pieces on the chessboard when you play against Diluc, who looks on (fondly) as you do your best to carefully push the pieces with your body. 
You always end up knocking some down, but when you finally get a handle of it, you do it with such concentration that Diluc doesn't have the heart to offer help. He does, however, end up polishing the board so the pieces slide more easily. You notice it’s shinier but he doesn’t let you pay it any mind.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says to you, and you think the words I love you come to mind more often than not recently. 
Thank you, you trill instead, and you ache with a want that pulses ever so often when you want so much more than you have when Diluc reaches out to caress your head.
“Like I said,” Diluc says softly. “Don’t pay it any mind. It’s your move still, you know.”
And you move the pieces. And you pick the grapes in his vineyard. And you find artifacts of crimson for him. And you kiss the scars from the many years he has battled (with or without you). 
.
.
.
He gains another in the next, final battle with you as his seelie.
.
.
.
Diluc has gotten hurt before. It’s inevitable with the number of enemies he faces, the number of times you run into enemy territory, but it has never been a problem for him to stand back up and fight. His fire burns brightly-- shine true is his motto, and Diluc lives those words as though they have been etched onto his soul. 
Much like fire, Diluc is relentless, and you can only follow him as he pushes through enemies, listens to his connections, and finds a den of thieves that have been terrorizing Springvale for months. The two of you should have known that their efficiency was because they were led on by the Fatui, but you fail to notice until they have you surrounded. 
You have every faith in Diluc to come out safe and sound, but it takes only one mistake for you to be reminded that there is a limit to everything. 
The blade slices through so quickly you aren’t sure what happened, but when Diluc pulls his hand back from the cut on his side to have it painted with blood, your heart drops.
“A little out of depth, don’t you think, Darknight Hero?” 
“I’d keep my tongue in my mouth if I were you,” Diluc growls, and you can only tremble in mid-air as your mind races with the things you can do-- only to think of all the things you cannot do. You almost miss what Diluc tells you with the way your hearing fuzzes. “Go back to Mondstadt and tell the Knights where these bandits are,” Diluc says, and you know it’s serious when Diluc thinks about reaching out to the knights. (This is partly true, you would realize later, that despite Diluc’s hesitance on being associated with the knights, he knows you would reach out to Kaeya or Jean if needed-- if not for him but so you would be taken care of.) 
You should have told Jean or Kaeya or Amber or even Lisa where the two of you had gone just in case things go awry. The thought never crossed your mind things could go wrong when you had Diliuc with you.
“You’ll find me again,” Diluc tells you softly when you hesitate, and you wonder how he can lie to you like that when his gloves are too bloodied to even hold you. “I promise.”
How could you ask me to do that? You plead, feeling tears well up again. How could you ask me to leave you?
“It’s okay,” Diluc tells you, and his bare hands are warm. “It’s fine.”
You are ripped out of Diluc’s hands when someone throws an electro grenade in the fire below Diluc’s feet. He’s still standing even after this, but a throwing knife hits him on the shoulder, another grenade to his left. You can do nothing but watch as Diluc is hurt, falling onto the ground. 
If there was ever a moment you wanted something so badly, you would have done anything to get it, it would be right here-- right now. 
You are the last thing he sees.
.
.
“You whose strength stems from your devotion, I shall lend you my power.”
.
.
You don’t know whose voice you heard or how somehow you have the hands to hold onto the Vision framed with Mondstadt wings in your hands, but you’ve learned not to question the good things in life-- one of them being your life at Diluc’s side.
Your voice is loud, you realize, when you shout at the bandits to leave. And your powers are strong-- strong enough to protect the person that matters most.
The bandits run at the fight sign of trouble, and the Fatui agent is unconscious. (You checked.)
You hold Diluc as he lies on your lap, breathing heavily but still breathing-- thank the archons. You quickly brush his hair away from his face and press on his wound, wincing when he lets out a grunt of pain even unconscious. I won’t let them hurt you, you think, taking one of his hands to brush your lips over his knuckles. (His hands are rough and calloused, but you love them just the same for how gently they held you when you were just a seelie.) If they come back, they’ll have to get through me. 
“Hello, mini seelie.” 
You look up from Diluc just in time to see a hand reach down to softly rustle your hair, much to your dismay. The initial reaction gives way to surprise when you recognize that the voice comes from none other than Kaeya. He grins down at you with his sword by his hip, and you frantically look around to see if the bandits had come back.
How did you--?
“Nice wings you got there,” Kaeya teases you, making you look back and find that oh, when did those get there? “Didn’t even notice them because you were too worried about Diluc, huh?” When you nod, he softens his gaze. “Why don’t you let us take care of things around here, hm?” He glances down at Diluc who has been sleeping soundly in your lap. “Let’s get him back home.” 
.
.
When a few knights come with a cart to ambulate Diluc back to Mondstadt instead of the winery (you couldn’t argue with Jean even if you did choose to speak; she’s stubborn when the people she cares about are hurt), you feel the tension leave your body all at once, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you actually feel sleepy. 
“I’m glad we arrived right in the nick of time.” You turn to Kaeya who had been working behind the scenes, directing the knights. “You did good work, chasing them out of here so we could catch them easily,” he says, “I-- oof!” 
You tackle Kaeya into a grateful hug, and it takes him a few moments to respond by placing his hands onto your back and giving it a few pats. “There, there,” Kaeya drawls, but you can hear the smile in his voice anyways. “Better not hug too long; Diluc might be jealous that I’m the person you hug first, you know.”
You let go slowly, grinning up at him as though you agree, and you dodge Kaeya before he can mess with your hair again. On the way out of the camp, Jean gives you a smile, Amber waves excitedly at you before rounding up a few more bandits, and your cheeks hurt a little from the way Lisa pinched it. You go find Diluc where he’s being taken back in a horse-drawn cart and hold his hand until you’ve fallen asleep by his side.
(In his sleep, Diluc holds onto you.) 
.
.
.
Diluc wakes up twice. Once, very briefly, when your wings are expansive and when the Vision at your waist shines brightly with power. Before he wakes up the second time, you can already feel the power fade from both you and the Vision. 
You knew that your transformation was temporary; powers do not always last forever, especially since the glow of your Vision seems contingent on the cycles of the moon-- particularly the moon that you were born on. You think that you should feel more disappointed, but you don’t. You get to hold onto Diluc’s hand in yours and wipe away the sweat from his forehead as he sleeps, and you think that if you only get this one chance to do these things, then you will take what you can get. 
You will love Diluc as you are, no matter what form you take. Your transformation wasn’t necessary. Your powers were a bonus, but even if you weren’t granted a miracle, Diluc would have been safe, as a courtesy of Kaeya who had been trailing behind the two of you since you from the start. (Kaeya and Diluc's connections had the same info this time around, so they were bound to intersect at some point.) What you’ve been given was not the power to save Diluc, but the chance to love him in a way you have always dreamed of doing.
When Diluc opens his eyes the second time around, more aware and more awake, you almost don’t know what to do. It’s a momentary panic when you think he doesn’t know who you are, but he only needs to take one look at you before he raises his hand to caress your cheek as he’s always done. 
“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m fine,” he soothes, though his voice is still raspy from disuse. “Don’t cry.” 
I can’t believe you wanted me to leave you behind. How could you tell me that? 
“...Sorry,” he says, and you raise your head from his bed just enough so he can wipe away the tears on your lashes. “It’s funny but even if you don’t talk, I can still understand you.” 
You watch as he slowly takes your hand and presses his palm against yours, lowering his fingers until they’ve interlocked with yours. “My seelie,” he says with all the warmth in the world. You can only nod before you’re wiping away the tears that spring up again. "Even in this form, you'll still lead me, right? Still find me if I get lost?"
You don't know what type of face you're making, but Diluc softens his gaze before shifting slightly in the bed offered to him by the church. "Come here," he whispers, arms outstretched.
You tentatively place your weight onto the bed, arms placed on each of his sides as you gingerly climb into bed with him. When he winces, you put a hand on his chest, alarmed, to stop him from exerting himself.
“I’m fine,” he says immediately, and when he looks at you, he bursts out laughing, only for him to wince again more strongly. “Sorry, your expressions-- they’re exactly how I imagined them.” He chuckles, though you purse your lips at him as you finally settle under the covers next to him. You make a sound of surprise when he leans over just enough to press a kiss onto your forehead. You hear his soft huff of laughter again when you bury your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Still as easy to read as ever.”
You grab a hold of his shirt with your ears pressed against his sturdy chest. He gently rubs circles on your shoulder as you listen to his heartbeat, which is as steady as you have imagined it to be. It quickens ever-so-slightly, and you look up at Diluc in time to see him gaze down at you tenderly. “You don’t have to speak,” he says, brushing his hand across your cheek. “Nothing has to change at all. But there’s something I want to know.” You raise your hand to caress his hand (and he finds the courage to keep on speaking).
“Do you think you can tell me your name?” Diluc whispers, the most unsure you have ever seen him, and you think you’re so fond of him your heart (not just metaphorical this time) might burst from it.
It takes only a moment for you to decide to scoot yourself up just enough to kiss him on the side of his mouth, and you can't help but grin at the stupefied expression on his face. 
And you say your name. 
How interesting is it that it's the one thing you cannot convey through trills and twirls, cannot show through hugs and kisses? You never thought that your name could have such significance but you watch as Diluc's eyes widen and you think this moment is the gift the gods have given you. 
Diluc takes a moment to taste your name, and he calls out to you for the very first time out of many, many, many times.
.
Before the sun rises, Diluc wakes up to your bright glow and with your seelie body pressed up against his collarbone. He breathes your name into the quiet infirmary before he closes his eyes to sleep again.
.
.
.
.
You are found more often than you are lost. For every time Diluc calls your name-- as a seelie or as a human (fairy?)-- your heart soars as high as the anemograms at Brightcrown Mountain. 
As a seelie, your life with Diluc stays the same-- for the most part. No one treats you differently and no one loves you differently from when they knew you as just a seelie. If anything, the biggest change has been in Diluc's life where the stares from his admirers are more muted and the swoons reduced, for how could anyone continue to pine over someone that is so evidently preoccupied with someone else? (Even though they've only seen the person who Diluc holds in high regard once every new moon.)
Every adventure still has the same probability to go awry and Diluc still polishes the chessboard to perfection for you. Though on moonless nights, Diluc can hold you close, and you can hold him closer, saying his name (the second word you ever say) and hoping he can never feel quite as lost as before when you are here with him.
FIN
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@creation-magician @inlustris-but-obey-me @lumi-ying  @thetwinkims @loveyoutothestars  @ninqat  @winterptilopsis  @nya-vivi  @just-noelle ​ @shr3ik
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myonepiece · 4 years
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Hello 😳 so I saw your post about Kyoshiro and Bartolomeo with a clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat, and let me tell you, that post AWAKENED something inside of me 🤤💞 so I would like to request a King, Sanji, and Mihawk with clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat if your request are still opened that is 😚👉👈 thank you in advance, and you can ignore this request if you want. I hope you have a good day or night luv 😚💗
King, Sanji with a clingy short fem!S/O who’s a scaredy cat
King x Reader,   Sanji x Reader
Description: King & Sanji (seperate) with a short fem!S/O who is clingy and gets scared easily + oneshot/drabble with her getting scared and hiding behind character
Warnings: very mild implied sexual harrassment (in King’s oneshot), mild cursing
A/N: I’m so glad you liked it, it was so fun to write! 💐 (I love how you used so many emojis in your request) and I hope it’s okay I only did sanji and king, it’s just that this situation ends up fairly long 💕
*for King let’s say you’re around his height, the top of your head is a little above his waist 
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King is definitely not the most affectionate person, he’s not a fan of PDA other than having you sit on his lap. if you get too physically affectionate (which is very) then King will warn you in a stern voice to stop, and if you don’t then he’ll move you away or simply place you on the ground and push you away
in private he’s more okay with you being clingy, still not the fondest though
he has nothing against your height, he (secretly) finds it adorable and he likes to watch you walk around the Beast Pirates crew because he finds it amusing to see the height differences between you and everyone else, your height is another reason he prefers having you stay on his lap often or at least have you right next to him- he’s worried someone (Kaido) will step on you
he also likes the way your hand looks on him, whether it’s resting on his arm, his chest, or his own hand, he always stares at the interaction and admires how precious and sweet you look
he sometimes finds your cowardness irritating, but even as he scolds you or strictly teases you for being scared so easily, he’s happy that you come to him to feel safe- honestly he never thought someone would feel safe with him nor did he want someone to until he met you
and after he scolds you he always pushes you away or behind him so he can handle whoever messed with his angel (usually it’s Queen, he likes messing with King and one of the most effective ways to do that is to mess with you) he also uses his wings as somewhat of a shield for you, providing cover usually 
+ oneshot
You tentatively walked through the dimly lit hall in the Beast Pirates base, the cold stone chilling the air around you and creating a slight echo of the patter of your shoes.
keeping your eyes trained on the ground while a few lesser crew members passed you, you followed the little cracks in the stone, branching out and creating intricate patterns- your eyes fell upon a pair of shoes and you froze midstep, looking up and perceiving Queen staring down at you, an unsettling smirk contorting his face
you smiled slightly up at him, trying to step around him and continue only to be stopped by his hand reaching out and tilting your head to look at him, the touch seding shivers down your spine, the bad kind of shivers
it wasn’t unusual for Queen to mess with you, enjoying your disturbed and fearful reactions as the sadistic man he is, and the reaction he gets from King is pure gold to him- he enjoys making King get protective so he can tease him for being so smitten
“______, how bout you come with me! some of the crew are going to sumo wrestle! come see their heads pop off!”
Queen laughed at your unsettled expression before leaning down a bit and blowing smoke out into your face,
“or maybe I should snap the collar on you an’ throw you into the ring”
you gasped, causing Queen to chortle in amusement- you took the moment of his distraction to move away from his touch and scurry off down the hall, hearing Queen call after you in a mocking tone and follow in pursuit
you hurried through the halls and spotted King at the end in the large room at the end, he stood at the table conversing with Jack, though clearly uninterested with the subject
you picked up your pace and your heels clicked against the ground alerting King, who knew you are the only one who wears shoes that make that sound. he turned to the entrance happy to have something to do other than play with Jack, but he didn’t like the worried expression on your face- nor Queen rounding the corner after you having all too familar mischievous expression on his lips. 
scurrying into the room, you ran over to King and hid behind his large wings. his glare never left Queen as the large man entered the room and moved towards where you stood huddled against King’s wings, stopping in front of the armored man and taking a long drag on his cigar. 
“what are you doing you moron”
Queen laughed at King’s protectiveness already showing, finding amusement in his crewmember’s smittenesque.
“I was inviting her to play a game you jackass!”
he laughed heartily at King’s insulted and angry expression. your boyfriend took a step forward, now only a few feet away from Queen- the atmosphere in the room grew tense and Jack was watching with wary eyes matching yours as you watched the two calamities square up, both ready to strike if it came to it. but King is observant, he saw that Queen had no intention of hurting him, he simply wanted to scare you and get a rise out of him.
he scoffed and turned begrudgingly back to you, moving to take a seat at the table and lifting you onto his lap with ease. you settled against his steel covered chest, still slightly shaking from Queen’s scare- King’s eyes narrowed at Queen when he chuckled again and sat in the chair between King and Jack, throwing a wink in your direction. King visibly flinched and his behind left the chair momentarily before returning, remembering that’s what Queen wanted- and you were safe on his lap. 
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Sanji is super clingy himself, he has no problem at all with your affection and neediness. he’s always more than happy to hug you or cuddle you or kiss you, it’s one of his favorite things to do- he’s constantly asking himself how he got so lucky to have a girl like you
one of the things Sanji finds most adorable about you is your height, no matter what you do Sanji thinks you’re the cutest thing ever, he’s always offering to carry you, he always pulls you onto his lap- back hugs are another one of his favorite things because your body is so much smaller than his own and he thinks it’s adorable how perfectly you fit in his embrace, and don’t even get him started on how cute your hands look holding onto his hand
your slight cowardness gives him an excuse to hold you even more, he offers his hand or arm for you to hold, and whenever you grab onto him he has to fight back the squeals and focus on the problem at hand, making sure you feel safe and are completely out of harm’s way
+ oneshot 
the island you docked at had a quaint little town, small but bustling with life- you had gone to look at a store for some new clothes. unfortunately you couldn’t find anything and you had to head back to the ship empty handed. to make things even worse, while you were watching the ground you bumped into someone, who happened to be much bigger than you and piss drunk. 
“oi! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
you swallowed the lump in your throat, stuttering out an apology that only seemed to make the man madder. 
“you need to fucking watch where you’re... you’re going”
he swayed on his feet and leaned down so that he was face level with you, pointing an accusing finger in your face and once again his alcohol filled breath invaded your senses.
“you-you have no idea who you’re dealing with”
his words slurred together and his unbalance caused him to lean forward slightly and you took a step back- all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice over the crowd’s chatter.
“______-swaaaan!!”
you looked to the side and spotted the relieving blond hair bouncing through the crowd while your boyfriend quickly weaved his way through the crowd towards you. stopping beside you and throwing his hands wielding shopping bags into the air.
“I got you gifts my beautiful  _____-swan!” 
this is when he noticed the man far too close for his liking, his face fell with his arms, turning to one of suspicion and confusion, then to one of disgust and slight anger. he handed you the bags gently and stepped in front of the man, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“why are you bothering my little _____-swan?”
his voice was tight and you could tell he was mad, but the strager didn’t seem to pick up on the danger in his drunkness. you reached up and clutched the bottom of Sanji’s jacket in your hand, he felt the action rigth away and his anger dissipated and his face broke into a huge grin. he spun on his heel and threw his arms around your waist, picking you up and smushing his cheek against yours while he rambled about how adorable you are- his perfect moment ruined by the stranger’s words.
“she ran into me you bastard, make her *hiccup* apologize before I do”
“oi, don’t ignore me!”
Sanji’s smile faltered slightly and he lifted his foot, spinning quickly and kicking the man with such force that it sent him flying away through the wall of the shop behind. 
“I’m trying to hug my angel! don’t interupt you idiot!”
“_____-swan I’m so sorry you had to see that~!”
you giggled at Sanji’s foolishness, leaning you head down to peck his nose- making his cheeks turn an even brighter red and he squealed. 
“ooh we need to get back to the ship so you can try on the clothes I got for you my dear!”
he placed his arm under you, switching to holding you in a bridal style, and he pranced off down the street towards the awaiting ship- his face still dangerously flushed and his eyes closed in joy.
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fruitcoops · 3 years
Note
If you're still taking requests, could you do one where someone is making Remus really uncomfortable and someone from the team helps him out? (Preferably Sirius, Leo, Logan, James, or Dumo but everything you do is so good so it really doen't matter 😂❣)
Yep! Please take a look at the TW below before reading, since there are parts of this that are a bit intense. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!
Combined with protective Sirius and Leo/ Loops friendship!
TW for a super creepy guy, unwanted handholding, unwanted flirting/ not taking no for an answer, innuendo, moderate panic attack, and alcohol
The folding chair next to Remus creaked as a tall man in a perfectly-tailored suit sat down hard in it. He was clearly a drink or two past tipsy, and something in Remus’ throat itched at the way the man’s eyes flickered across his chest and arms. “You’re Lupin, right? The new Lion?”
Remus set his drink down. “That’s me.”
“Stan Martin, nice to meet you.” Stan held his hand out and Remus shook it; his palm was clammy, and he held on just a second too long. Remus was the first to pull away after he felt a light squeeze from wrinkled fingers.
“Pleasure’s mine,” Remus said with a polite smile. Sirius was nowhere in sight, and everyone else was occupied in their own conversations. He swallowed hard. “Do you own a team?”
“Nah, I just fund ‘em,” Stan snorted. “Too much work otherwise, not enough time for play, if you know what I mean.”
Remus forced a laugh. “Right, yeah, totally. Are you involved with the Lions? I’m a bit new to the whole administration thing.”
“Even after being a PT for so long?” Stand gave him an incredulous look, but beneath it there was a shadow Remus didn’t like.
“Yep. I was pretty contained to my tape pallets and charts.” Joke it off, Lupin.
A hand, heavy from alcohol and lack of inhibitions, fell on Remus’ forearm with a few clumsy pats before settling on his wrist. Stan looked directly into his eyes. “If you ever need someone to, ah, show you the ropes, give me a call.”
Remus cleared his throat and tried to pull his arm away, but the hand didn’t budge. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but thank you for the offer.”
“No, really. The NHL is a complicated world. I’d be more than happy to take some of that weight off your shoulders.” Stan leaned closer and Remus tensed as his eyes roved his face. “Your freckles are much more striking in real life, Lupin.”
“Please let go of my arm, Mr. Martin.”
“Call me Stan.”
“Let go of me, Martin.”
An awful little grin spread over his thin lips. “You’re a spitfire, aren’t you? Too much for Captain Solitude, I bet.”
He jerked his head to the side of the room, where Remus saw Sirius making polite conversation with a woman in a long dress. A spike of fury bubbled up. “Are you talking about my fiancé?”
“Easy, tiger, I’m just saying—” He hiccupped and Remus tried to pull away, but Stan’s grip tightened by a fraction. “—I’m just saying, you could do better with someone who knows how to handle you.”
“I can handle myself just fine. If you don’t stop talking shit about my fiancé, I’ll—”
“What? You’ll do what?” Stan leered at him and Remus paused to shove down his nausea. “You know, you were much prettier before you tried to be like the rest of these jocks.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“I’m just being honest,” Stan huffed, never releasing Remus’ arm from his hold. Remus could feel his shoulders starting to shake. “You’ve got those cute little cheekbones. Very delicate, like—almost feminine. Those training regimens they put you on ruined it, in my opinion. Look, Lupin, when you get tired of tall, dark, and boring over there, gimme a call and you can be pretty aga—”
“What’s going on over here?” a falsely bright voice cut in. The chair on Remus’ other side clicked at its joints as Leo sat down, looking between them with icy eyes. “Am I missing out on all the fun?”
“Hey, Knutty,” Remus managed, wincing as his voice cracked. Stan leaned back in his chair and Remus quickly yanked his arm away, tangling his fingers together.
“Lupin and I were just having a chat,” Stan said, glancing back down at Remus’ lap until he tucked his hands under his thighs. “Nothing big and important.”
Leo’s knee pressed against his own. “Sirius was looking for you a minute ago.”
Stan’s jaw tightened. “What, we can’t finish our conversation?”
“No.” Remus channeled all his roiling discomfort and the urge to knock the creep’s teeth in as he stood up. “No, this conversation has been done for a while. Have a nice night, Mr. Martin.”
Leo’s arm was steady across his shoulders as they walked away; Remus’ vision tunneled, sparkling black at the sides. “Are you gonna be alright?” Leo asked under his breath, his accent soothing. Remus nodded. “You’re shaking, Re.”
“No, I’m not.” He grabbed a plastic cup of water off a nearby tray and nearly sloshed it all over himself. “Jesus fucking—”
“Re.” He could feel his teeth starting to chatter and sweat rolled down the too-tight collar of his shirt. Leo’s hand closed loosely around his own and took the cup. “C’mon.”
“Sirius was looking for me,” he protested as Leo led him down a side hall.
Leo shrugged. “Probably.”
“…he didn’t talk to you.”
“Nope.”
“You came to get me anyway.”
“Yep.”
The clog in Remus’ chest grew and he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Thanks, Knutty.”
A sharp puff of air cooled his burning face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
“I tried to leave.” The words tangled around his tongue as Leo pushed open the bathroom door and led him to the sinks, dampening some paper towels. “I—fuck, Leo, I’m stronger than him but he was holding my arm so tight and I was so fucking freaked.”
“Easy, Re.” Leo sounded like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.
The towels were a balm in Remus’ hands and on his face as he pressed them over his mouth to muffle the wheezing noises. “I’d rather be called a slur to my face than have that happen again.”
The gentle circles on his back stopped for a second. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t—no. I just wanna go home.”
“Deep breaths.” Leo handed him a new towel to blow his nose, then pulled his phone out.
“Has anyone told you that you’re a kickass friend?”
A weak smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but his face was still troubled. “Once or twice.”
Remus’ lungs were tight with a mix of fear and disgust; he felt a little like he wanted to throw up, and while Leo’s hand on his back was an anchor to the world, the rest of him screamed ‘don’t touch me’.
Barely two minutes later, the bathroom door swung open. “Honey? What happened?”
“Holy shit,” Remus managed as gray eyes swam into his field of view. Sirius. Sirius meant safety. Reality zoomed back at double speed and the dam broke—tears poured down his cheeks as his whole body began to shake again. “Holy shit.”
Sirius shushed him softly, pulling him close with a kiss to the top of his head. “D’accord, mon loup, je t’ai.”
“I love you,” Remus sobbed. The fabric of Sirius’ suit was probably wrinkling under his tight grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I love you so much for exactly who you are, okay? Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I know.” Confusion edged his voice, but he kept it low and gentle. Remus loved him for it, wildly. The door creaked as Leo left, and then there was silence.
He finally pulled his face out of Sirius’ chest, kissing his jaw, cheek, and lips before resting his forehead in the curve of his neck. “Thank you.”
Sirius’ hands eased through the curls above his ears as he cupped Remus’ face in his hands. “What happened, Re?”
Remus shook his head as revulsion rose again. “There was this creep and he wouldn’t let me go. Said some shitty stuff.”
“He was homophobic?” An angry furrow appeared between Sirius’ brows.
“I wish.” Stan’s words rang in his ears and made his mouth bitter with shame. Remus closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Sirius’ face during his confession. “He, uh—he propositioned me. Kind of.”
“He what?”
“I didn’t catch on until he already had my arm.” Remus sniffled, pressing the heel of his hand below his eye to stem the tears. “He followed it up with some bullshit about you, and then some bullshit about me, and just wouldn’t shut up. I just froze. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, mon amour.” Sirius’ touch was so gentle on him, warm and broad compared to the crushing discomfort of Stan Martin. His hands were heavy, but they let Remus move however he liked.
“I love you,” Remus said again.
“I love you, too. Are you ready to go home?”
“I need a minute.” He rubbed his face against the soft lapels of Sirius’ jacket, desperate for comfort around the guilt wedged in his chest; his next words spilled out before he could choke them down again. “You still like me, right?”
“I love you so much—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You—am I still nice to look at? Now that I’m not, y’know, pretty and kinda twink-y.” There was a long stretch of silence. “Is that a yes?”
“Sorry, I had to take a second and stop myself from putting that fucking idiot through a table.” Sirius took a step back and met Remus’ eyes, fixing him with a hard look. “First of all, I love everything about you, and you will always be the most beautiful man on earth. Second, your muscles are the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. Third, you’ve never been—what word did you use?”
“Twink-y. It’s like…delicate. Femme. Etcetera, etcetera.”
More anger sparked in Sirius’ eyes. “Yeah, and you’ve never been delicate. You are the strongest person I know, Re. Whatever he said to you, it wasn’t true.”
“Can we go home now?”
“Absolutely.”
The ballroom was still crowded with high-end management and people Remus never wanted to see again when they finally left the bathroom; thankfully, the throngs of sparkles and dark suits made it easy for them to slip away with minimal human interaction. Stan Martin was over by the water cups, dabbing uselessly at a large wine stain across the front of his crisp white shirt—Remus saw Leo watching him like a hawk with a suspiciously empty wineglass in his hand and internally vowed to give him the biggest hug of his life at the next practice.
Remus slowed down to take in the fresh nighttime air, holding Sirius’ hand tight in his own as they crossed the parking lot. He paused at the passenger door and tugged him in for a slow kiss. “I love you,” he mumbled, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and cologne.
Sirius’ arms wrapped around him and Remus melted into the hug. He felt him trembling slightly, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the chilly breeze. “You are the best part of my life, Re,” he whispered, his voice thick. “The best part, no matter what. I’m so sorry for what happened tonight.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t yours, either.” Sirius kissed the top of his forehead once before giving him a squeeze and going to the other side of the car. “I’m sure Hattie will agree with me once we’re home.”
Two hours, one hot shower, and thirty minutes of puppy cuddles later, Remus curled up against Sirius’ ribs and felt his chest rise and fall under his palm. “I love you,” he said quietly.
Sirius let out a slow breath and entwined their fingers, kissing the inside of his wrist. “Love you more.”
“Love you most.”
“Impossible.”
He could hear Sirius’ smile, even in the darkness of their bedroom, and fell asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat.
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ceilingfan5 · 3 years
Note
Wedding/ sick for weird au mixes
Kravitz thinks of himself as a relatively sensible guy. Somehow, despite this, he always seems to end up in bizarre situations, and this time, he might have really taken the cake.
Not literally. Wedding cakes are so fucking expensive. Did you know this? So expensive. Even breathing is expensive when it comes to weddings. Kravitz is never getting married. If he ever feels the urge, he’s going to take a cold shower and then calculate, by hand, how many burritos he can get for the cost of a wedding while he’s still dripping wet and naked. This is a foolproof plan.
Kravitz likes plans. He likes knowing what’s going on at any given time and what the appropriate reaction is to any given situation and he likes knowing the right way to handle things, which, he’s been criticized in the past, by several different boyfriends, is like trying to get a good grade on every social interaction at all times, like he’s going to be given a report card at the end of a fucking conversation. This is normal to want and possible to achieve. Kravitz is doing great. And all of those guys saved him a lot of money on not having a wedding, so, really, he should thank them for fundamentally misunderstanding him on a level bordering on cruel.
He’s sensible. He likes plans. He wants to know the right answers. And yet? And fucking yet?? He finds himself doing shit like this, holding back the long hair of a complete stranger in the bathroom the night after the bachelorette parties. They aren’t even from the same side of the wedding party--Kravitz is firmly in Sloane’s camp, the best man, in fact, and he’s never met Taako before this week.
“So, you’re Hurley’s friend, right?” He tries to keep his voice soothing, and he pats Taako’s back a little. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he also doesn’t want Taako to be as miserable as humanly possible, which he’s certainly trying to achieve with a fervent vigor most people retain for gambling, or extreme sports. He wishes he had a little pocket guide book for weird situations like this. Turn to page 34 to comfort a stranger. Turn to page 62 for dealing with someone who is attempting to vomit everything they’ve eaten since age five.
“Yeah,” Taako moans. He leans his head, presumably pounding like a DJ scoring a hammer festival, gently against the toilet paper dispenser. “Sorry to drag you into this. You can- mmnnh. You can go. If I die, I die.”
“I think Hurley would be upset if you died,” Kravitz says gently. “You’re under contract until you wear that suit tomorrow. Maybe after that you can schedule a date with Death.”
“Hope it’s not a dinner date.” Taako snickers at his own joke, and then hiccups and covers his mouth. “Fuck!”
“Listen, not that it’s any of my business,” imagine him rapidly flipping pages in his guidebook, looking for the appropriate conversation cue. Interventions in 60 seconds. No? Maybe 25 conversation starters that aren’t about toilets? “But when we ran into each other at the casino last night, you seemed a little...” Flirtatious. Angry. Incredibly wasted. “Distracted. Is something on your mind? Besides the wedding, I guess?”
“Damn, you-” Taako hiccups again, and shifts his legs, groaning. “You weren’t kidding, that isn’t any of your business.”
Ah! Fuck! He’s losing points! What a terrible misstep! How will his grade ever recover!
“I’m so sorry-” he backpedals. “I just-”
“No, I get it.” Taako sighs. “Shit. Um. You know, I’m too hungover to lie to you? Um.” He fidgets with the toilet paper like a cat finding its own enrichment. It’s almost endearing. “Um. Okay. Yeah. I was in a mood. I would still be, if my fuckin’ head didn’t feel like it’s losing a getting-crushed-by-a-steamroller race. I’ll have more feelings later, I guess. Jot that down on your calendar.”
“Noted.”
“I, um.” Taako closes his eyes, shoulders lurching a little again, but Kravitz gently pulls his long, silky hair back from his face, and it doesn’t go further than that this time. “I was supposed to get married this year. And, uh.” He waves the fingers on his left hand, all of them incredibly empty. “Sorta fucked that one up.”
“Oh,” Kravitz says, intelligently. He imagines frantically flipping through his guidebook. Even in his head, there’s no suggestions for this. It’s a picture of a cartoon frog giving a thumbs up. Frogs don’t even really have thumbs. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can see why that would be hard to deal with.”
“Yeah,” Taako chuckles. “It sucks. I mean, he sucks, and both of us are stupid, and the whole thing is a mess, and I’m glad it didn’t go forward, but it’s.” He covers his mouth, looking green, but his shoulders slowly relax. “S’bad. Badtime. Badtime for Taako.”
“I see that.” Kravitz decides to carefully rub Taako’s back. If that’s overstepping, he’ll take the F. Taako can tell him to fuck off, and he will, and that’ll be that. But between last night and today, he likes Taako, and he feels bad for him, going through something awful like that. It’s got to be real hard, having to be a big part of a beautiful wedding, mourning one that’ll never be, even if it’s better for everyone involved. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone else who makes you happy, if that’s what you’re looking for. You’re very attractive and funny and- and-” Kravitz’s cheeks heat up. That might have been a bit much for sure. He especially didn’t need to keep talking, because the next thing on his mind was how perfect all of Taako’s freckles are, and that’s, that’s a lot. Wrong thing to say in the wrong situation. This is such a mess.
But Taako laughs.
“Yeah?” he says. “Sounds like you like me.”
“Oh, I- um. I.” Kravitz backpedals, pulling his hand away from Taako. His long, beautiful hair falls around his face again, and even as miserable as he is, he looks like some kind of angel.
Can angels puke? Rats can’t. There might not be a correlation there. Then again, what if there was?
“I’m- I wasn’t- You’re- that would be-” he can’t quite figure out how to defend himself.
“Admit it,” Taako sing-songs, his voice still hoarse.
“I could be convinced to like you,” Kravitz mumbles. “I happen, to, uh. Happen to have an opening. In my life. For likeable people.”
Taako laughs again, tipping his head back and smacking it on the toilet paper dispenser. He whines and rubs it, looking positively wretched.
“You’re wild, Krav,” he says anyway. “Soon as I can brush my teeth, I’m gonna find out if those pretty lips are as kissable as they look.”
Kravitz doesn’t have a page in his book for this, but something in the very, very back of his mind thinks that there are more things in life to do with your money than buy burritos. If not a wedding, at the very least, a date is a good start.
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missdrarrydawn · 3 years
Text
------------ Occupy My Heart ------------
Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader
warning: implied smut, brief mentions of drinking
~~~
written for the lovely @leydileyla who offered me this absolute gem of a prompt that I simply couldn't pass up
hope you enjoy hon :DD
~~~
You were really starting to feel the buzz of the Butterbeers a few hours into the Interhouse party that was thrown for all the returning eighth years. You're such a horrible lightweight, Butterbeer is just vaguely alcoholic, if at all. It warmed you up and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. Just enough to let the music and lights around you blur and blend, to ripple against your skin and soothe. The smell of the ale cookies served at various tables scattered around the one conjoined common room for all the Houses now wafted through the thick, cloying air, between meandering bodies of various dancing students, all the scents making your head spin from where you were sitting at the little makeshift bar.
The party's been wilding on way past curfew but no teachers arrived to interrupt you yet so it was fair game. Everything felt so liquid and pleasant, the atmosphere sticking to your slick skin, the warmth and haze prickling at the back of your neck.
Gods you needed a shower. Perhaps you might sneak away to have a quick one? The party showed no signs of slowing down and you were drained.
As you pushed away from the bar, colors still swimming before your eyes from all the sparkle and decorative banners strung up everywhere, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
You felt eyes on you.
Turning about to find the possible culprit, you registered a flash of platinum blonde hair in a darkened corner and the piercing glow of silver eyes lingering on you.
Draco.
A chuckle rumbled from your chest as you allowed yourself a moment to revel in his gaze before melding into the throng of people, sliding between them, trying to remember whether your dorm was the door on the left or the right upstairs. It wouldn't do to barge into someone else's dormroom.
As you made your way along you still felt pins and needles in your back, as if someone was keeping pace with you. Goodness, that was incredibly paranoid, wasn't it? You vowed to yourself to never drink Butterbeer again. Even slightly tipsy you were a disaster.
Finally you got through everyone and into the quieter part of the room, where all the dorms were. There were only a few people milling about there, stumbling off to their rooms with whoever they pulled or to retch or simply pass out.
The beat of the music was muffled here, no longer a steady, beating ebb flowing through your skull, now more resembling a foggy memory. It was easier to think, to breathe. You've never been much of a party animal, but this one was important. It celebrated unity and the war being over, it celebrated those who lived and fought. It mattered to attend. After Hogwarts rebuilt and reopened, the first thing that changed was the system of the four houses, headmistress McGonagall had dismantled it entirely after witnessing how horrific segregation could be.
Everyone was thrown in one mixing pot, which had been strange at first, but throwing a party like this really helped scrub out the imaginary lines in the sand everyone had drawn between themselves.
Speaking of scrubbing, you finally arrived to your dorm and basically collapsed through the door in your quest for a shower. Where was the bathroom door again? Ah right, over there, of course.
You slipped through, the bright Lumos having you squint for a second while your eyes adjusted from the dim haze of downstairs to the sparkling clean of tile.
Right. You closed the door behind you and began to undress, your clothes peeling away from the sweat plastered all over you from all the vigorous dancing you'd done.
As you kicked off your shoes and set your bare feet on the cold floor, a distinct icy chill ran up your legs and through the rest of you, shivering away the brittle buzz you'd worked up, cooling you down.
Once your clothes were a discarded pile on the floor, you stepped into the shower and pulled the fogged glass door shut, fiddling with the taps before a spray of warm water finally hit your face and shoulders.
What a relief.
You began to scrub and lather yourself up, cleaning off the night with the water sluicing down your skin, your mind starting to wander as you relaxed into the moment more. Warm showers were a treasure.
Draco was staring at you back there. For a brief second you made eye contact before you left. Did that mean something? You felt silly for wanting to know but that boy has occupied the vacant spaces of your heart for far too long now, and you couldn't help but hope that his intense, focused gaze meant something more.
As you began washing your hair, a knock on the door startled you out of your skin. You almost poured shampoo into your eyes for heaven's sake!
"Um—occupied?" you yelled out, hoping to be heard over the gush of water. If someone needed the bathroom urgently then they could come in to use it, it's not as if anyone would see you in your birthday suit, but if it wasn't urgent then they could find another one.
"Ahh, Y/N, it's—uh, it's me! I was just wondering if you were okay?" a familiar voice from the other side of the door spoke up.
You knew that voice. It was so familiar. Who—
You felt every bit of you freeze as your brain spat out the answer for you.
Draco. It was Draco.
Checking up on you.
What should you do now? Your heart began hammering away quicker, this was hardly the time or place to flirt or attempt seduction and—
Well. As you considered the statement that just flittered through your mind you found it not entirely true.
You were naked after all, naked and wet. What more perfect scenario for seduction did there exist?
"I'm okay Draco, um—you can come in?" you yelled back, lips stretching into a smile. Technically he shouldn't be here at all, seeing as these were girls quarters and all, but if he's been invited it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If he accepted, that was.
There was silence for a few beats, the moment dragging on, you almost thought you'd scared him off, but then—
The soft, distinct click of the door being opened and shut.
Bingo.
Now, how exactly would you do this? You supposed you could ask him to get you a towel when you were done, and let him have a glimpse.
Merlin it sounded corny as all fuck, but you were prepared to do what it takes.
Until then though, you supposed you should talk about anything, keep the atmosphere up.
You could just barely make out his tall, foggy outline through the sliding glass of the shower, and you watched him move to sit down on the toilet seat.
Wait a second—if you could partly see him, did that mean he could partly see you too?
That was even more perfect.
"Hi Draco, you like the party?" you threw out the question casually, hoping to lessen the strangeness of the situation. You and him were friends, well, acquaintances more so, so it's not as if you've never spoken berore, but still. This was way different from any interaction youve had prior. "Thank you for checking up on me."
"Ahh ahem—no problem Y/N, you seemed a little tipsy back there so I uh—I thought you might—Well yea." he stumbled through his words, hardly even finishing the sentence properly.
That was—quite uncharacteristic of Draco Malfoy. He was always the one with the silver tongue, the sharp remark, had a comment to spare for anything, and to hear him stutter and hiccup his way through speaking as if he were a nervous school girl talking to her crush was very new and strange.
You'd be lying if you said it wasn't endearing as all hell though.
You could have a lot of fun with this.
"I see I see. I did build a bit of a buzz but nowhere near as bad as some of the other characters around this place. I mean, did you see Zabini strip his shirt off and then dance on the tables? Goodness." you simply continued along, as if this were a casual conversation and you weren't naked and washing out your hair.
"Haha, yeah, yes, Blaise will have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Draco chuckled, though it sounded breathy and rough, somehow.
You were almost done now.
"Parvati will too, say, could you brew a vial of that potion of yours, for hangovers, for her? She's my roommate and I loathe to hear her whining tomorrow. You're the best at it, after all." You let your voice linger above the spray.
This time, Draco audibly spluttered and you saw a flurry of blurred movement, which eased a laugh past your lips.
"Um—yea, of—of course. I can do that. Um, Y/N isn't this—I don't know, a little strange?"
He sounded so thoroughly flustered, which really got you hoping. The stares, checking up on you, doing you favors, getting flustered by the situation, hm.
Hm.
It was worth a shot anyhow, right?
Time for a new plan.
Another chuckle rattled through your ribs. This was insane.
You grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open just enough to lean your head through. You could finally get a good look at him. He was sitting on the toilet seet, his entire face splotched and flushed all down his neck, wringing his hands and bouncing his leg.
When he heard you slide the door open he turned his head abruptly and you heard his breath hitch as he got a look at your face and shoulder sticking out, his eyes sliding from your eyes to your lips, lower still, to your neck and collarbones and—then he remembered himself and turned away abruptly.
"I'm sorry! Oh Merlin, are you—are you done? Do you uh—need a towel or—?" He began to ramble all in one breath and you just continued smiling fondly at his turned back.
"Oh Draco, won't you come in here with me already?"
You held out your hand and patiently waited. You could imagine this would be quite a fallout.
Draco stood completely still when the words left your mouth. One minute, two minutes, three—
The water drying on your skin while more sprayed down had gooseflesh rising all over you. Still, you waited.
"Um—what?" Draco whimpered eventually, voice giving out on him at the end there.
"You heard me." you assurred him.
The hum of running water was the only sound bouncing off the walls again, the very faintest echo of music from downstairs lilting through the closed door.
Draco turned to face you again, he looked wrecked. Eyes wide and dark, his pupils basically swallowing the silver irises, hair disheveled, breath coming in gentle pants.
"You want—?" he mumbled, his voice betraying his own hope and eagerness.
"Yes. For a while." your own smile widened, and for a second a pang of anxiety struck you as you realized he was about to see you naked, but it all dissipated into pooling heat and want as you watched him slowly reach for the first button of his mint green button up shirt and slide it loose. His wide eyes never left yours and you watched the slight tremor in his fingertips as he freed every button, one by one, until his shirt opened and slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor.
God he's delicious. All lean, well defined Seeker's physique, the pale marble of his skin an endless expanse. You let your eyes wander, drink in the sight, slide across his chest and lower, over his taut abdomen, hanging up on the waistband of his pants. An outline pushed against the seams there, your mouth watering at the visible bulge.
"Me too." he mumbled, as if you needed any more proof or reassurance of his desire, his hand slowly reaching for his zipper now.
Oh what a lovely party it's been indeed and it was about to get so much better.
~~~
Fin.
52 notes · View notes
hangovercurse · 4 years
Text
Ice Cold Pool
Part v of the Without You series: Colson and Y/N try to return to normal, but they still don’t know what normal actually is.
Colson x Reader
Warnings: Cursing (as per usual), substance use, people not following social distancing guidelines.
A/N: Seriously guys, wear your masks, social distance, etc. I really wanna go to a concert sometime in the next 2 years.
Word Count: 2743
| i | ii | iii | iv | vi | 
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It had been 4 weeks since you and Colson had made the agreement to just be friends. Obviously, there were some hiccups in this plan. Most notably that hanging around Colson reminded you of all the reasons you loved him in the first place, and thus all the reasons you shouldn’t hang around him.
You were glad to be back to somewhat normal. You could hang around your friends without feeling too much tension, you could talk to Casie (who wanted to know everything that happened), and you could smoke again.
That last one you probably shouldn’t have been so happy about, but after a month without weed, you needed it.
Of course, not everything was back to normal. You and Colson weren’t technically… speaking. Yet.
You said simple things to each other, “excuse me,” “thank you,” and even the occasional “bless you” after a sneeze. But you had yet to have an actual conversation since that night. When hanging around the guys, you tried to be as normal as possible, interacting with Colson as little as possible. You didn’t want anyone else to think you felt awkward, because then they would feel awkward and it would be a whole awkward mess.
Tonight, you were hoping to ease some tension between you and Colson. Trippie was releasing the deluxe version of his new album and was having a “covid safe” album release party. All that meant was they would party outside rather than inside and only invite half the amount of people that they normally would.
Against your better judgement, Slim and Baze convinced you to go.
“There’s not even gonna be that many people there.”
“And Trippie would be so upset if you didn’t come.”
“If I go, will you two shut up?”
“Yes.” “Yes ma’am”
“Don’t call me ma’am ever again, Slim.”
So, you made a plan to talk to Colson at some point that night about something other than all of your problems with each other. If and only if the opportunity presented itself.
So, there you were in an oversized Misfits T-shirt that looked like a dress on you and shorts that no one could see, a beer in one hand, and a blunt in the other. You were sitting at the pool edge, your feet dangling in the water, as you talked to Iann Dior about cheese.
You may have been pretty tipsy, but he was worse.
“Cheddar cheese is the worst possible flavor of cheese.” Iann shook his head, laughing.
“Absolutely not. You can put cheddar in dishes, and they taste great. Cheddar makes things taste better. Brie cheese is the worst cheese. It’s literally fucking moldy.” You giggled, taking a swig of your drink.
“You’re both wrong. Feta cheese is the absolute worse and no one will convince me otherwise.” Colson chuckled, sitting next to you.
“There is nothing wrong with feta cheese, you two are just uncultured.” You laughed, the opportunity you needed apparently presenting itself. You took a quick glance at Colson, who was about to dip his feet in the water. “Colson your shoes are still on.”
He looked at you confused, and you realized just how high he was. “So?” he asked and Iann laughed.
“Dude, if you’re gonna put your feet in the water you gotta take your shoes off.”
Colson broke out laughing at Iann’s comment, his whole body shaking with joy. He slipped his shoes off once he finished and dangled his feet of the edge.
“So, you really think cheddar cheese is the best cheese?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.
“Noooo.” You whined, “I just don’t think it’s the worst kind of cheese. But obviously there are better cheeses.” You kicked your feet up, splashing Colson on accident.
He looked over at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached his hand into the water, splashing water towards you. “Colson!” You squealed, laughing.
You returned the favor by flicking water at his shirt, at which point Iann left. “You get me wet and you die.” He said with a laugh.
Colson then cupped his hands together, bringing water up to your shirt and pouring it all over you, much to your dismay. Luckily, your shirt was black, but the water was still freezing. “Bro.” You pouted, looking over at Colson. He was smiling, but soon mimicked your pout.
“Aww, I’m sorry. Did the little princess get wet?” Your eyes went wide, and you slapped his chest. He grabbed your hand, pulling it up so you couldn’t hit him and accidentally pulling you closer to him. “I didn’t mean it like that!” He laughed, his hand intertwining with yours as he brought it back down.
“Colson…” You trailed off, warning him. He pouted, a sigh leaving his lips as he unlocked your fingers.
“Sorry, forgot I’m not supposed to do that.” You smiled a little, glad that things were slowly becoming normal. “I wanna go for a swim.” He changed the topic, standing up and pulling his shirt off.
“Colson it’s freezing. You’re gonna get sick.” You looked at him with wide eyes but a giggle falling from your mouth.
“Guess someone has to come in to keep me warm.” He shrugged, tugging his shorts down his legs so he was just in his boxers.
It was only at this point that you realized he was very drunk. A few moments later you felt the cold water splash your face as Colson jumped into the pool near you, coming up and running his hand through his hair.
He made his way back over to you, reaching for the beer that he left on the side of the pool. He half-stood in front of you, a needy smile on his face. “Get in the water with me Y/N.” He dragged out the last syllable of your name, causing you to roll your eyes.
“There is no way in hell I am getting in that water.” You chuckled, taking a hit of the joint in your hand.
Colson pouted, taking the blunt from you and smoking it himself. “I guess I could always just pull you in.” He grabbed your thighs and you moved backwards, fighting him.
“Colson, I don’t have a change of clothes, I’ll be cold.” You tried to squirm out of his grip, giggling.
“You can just wear my shirt or something. Someone will have something.” He shrugged, pulling you into the water.
“Colson!” You squealed before your entire body was encased in the cold liquid.
“Too late.” He said, a cheeky smile on his face. His arms wrapped around you as you turned to face the edge, ready to get out. “Noooo, you’re already in here.” He whined, dragging you towards his chest.
“Colson, it’s freezing. We need to get out.” You said, turning your head to face him.
“I don’t want to. This is the closest I’ve been to you in weeks. I just wanna enjoy this for a moment.” His head rested on top of your head, and you let yourself fall back into his chest.
You had to admit, you did miss his playfulness and his touch, and you really hadn’t been this close to him in a while. But you knew he wouldn’t be doing any of this if he wasn’t both drunk and stoned out of his mind.
You sighed, knowing you needed to end the moment, if not for your own sanity. “C’mon Col, we can’t do this. Let’s get out.”
He groaned. “We did this when we were friends before, how is this any different from that?”
You made your way to the edge of the pool. “It just is Colson.” You sighed, trying to mask the anger in your voice. You tried to pull yourself up to sit on the edge of the pool, but you couldn’t quite make it the first time. Colson, of course, took it upon himself to help you, grabbing your hips lightly to lift you up. He got out and sat next to you, both of you soaking wet.
He reached over and grabbed the shirt he was wearing earlier, passing it to you. “Here, so you don’t get sick.” He seemed to be sobering up, probably due to the cold water.
“Thanks.” Your voice was hushed, your cheeks burning with a blush that you couldn’t explain. It’s just a shirt, you told yourself. You stood up, preparing yourself to find somewhere private to change.
“Where are you going?” Colson asked, looking up at you.
“To change.” You said bluntly. “I can’t exactly strip in front of 40 people.”
Colson nodded, standing up next to you, pulling his shorts on. “Where are you going?” You asked him, a small smile on your face.
“Wherever you are.” He smiled and you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I guess I can use you to clear my path inside.” You chuckled, starting to walk towards the crowd of people near the doors of the house. As you moved through the crowd you found yourself instinctively reaching back for Colson’s hand, not wanting to lose him as you moved through the crowd. He happily took the hint and moved closer to you, his free hand resting on your hip to help guide you to the doors, though you didn’t mind as much as you should have.
You made your way through the open glass door, suddenly very self-conscious about the clothes you were wearing and the fact that you were soaking wet. “Bathroom is this way.” Colson mumbled into your ear as the loud music blasted around you. The hand on your hip led you down a small hallway until you found the open bathroom.
You went in, turning to close the door when you saw Colson had followed you in. “I gotta change, Kells. You can’t be in here.”
“Woah woah woah.” He started, clearly offended, “You never call me Kells. That’s not allowed.” You giggled, rolling your eyes. “And I’ll just… look away.” He covered his eyes with his hands, moving his fingers to form a gap.
“Colson, seriously,” You laughed, “turn around.” He thankfully did as told, and you quickly removed the Misfits shirt you were previously wearing and replaced it with his long sleeve pink shirt. It wasn’t quite as long as the other one you were wearing, but it still went down to your upper thigh and the sleeves went far enough past your wrist for permanent sweater paws. Unfortunately, this meant you would have to keep your wet shorts on.
Upon realizing this, you let out a sigh of disappointment. “What?” Colson questioned, still facing the wall.
“You can look now.” He turned around. “It’s not as long as mine.” You pouted, stretching your arms out for him to see before flopping them back down to your sides.
Colson chuckled, “I really don’t see the problem, Y/N.”
You glared playfully, “I have to wear my wet fuckin shorts.” You whined, a pout on your lips.
“I meannn, you don’t have to.” Colson said, playfully. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But I don’t know what to do to help you.”
You let out a dramatic sigh, looking off into the distance. “I’m not giving you my pants, Y/N.” Another dramatic sigh. “Okay fine we’ll just go to his laundry room and through them in the dryer, okay?”
“See, you do know what to do to help me.” You smiled, grabbing your wet shirt and pushing Colson out of the bathroom.
The laundry room in Trippie’s house was surprisingly small, given his house was a small mansion. You were able, however, to close the door and pull off your wet clothes. Colson threw your shirt in the dryer as well.
You hopped up onto the washer, your legs dangling off. “You don’t have to stay, Colson.” You told him, knowing he probably wanted to rejoin the party.
“I’m good. This is much more fun than whatever’s going on out there.”
You laughed, “waiting for my clothes to dry? Whatever, loser.”
He moved towards you, his stomach touching your knees. “I’ve missed this.” He said, softly. You met his eyes with your own. “Just us doing stupid shit. Being friends.”
“We’re still friends, Cols.” You smiled, tilting your head to the side.
He sighed, “Yeah but we haven’t really been friends since…” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. “Not real friends, at least.”
You sighed, trying to decide what you wanted to say. “I’m sorry about that. I just needed a little bit of space and it never felt like the right time to… talk. Like if we started talking in a group everyone would just think it’s weird.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” his hand reached out to touch your waist. “If anything, I should be apologizing. It’s my fault we’re stuck in this weird limbo shit anyways. I was honestly afraid the guys would kill me if I talked to you.”
“Well, good thing it’s not up to the guys anymore.” Your voice got soft as you realize how close your faces had gotten. “And we can be normal friends again.” You added.
Colson looked down. “Yeah, normal friends.” He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but failed miserably.
“Colson, we’re just friends, right?” You asked, trying to convince yourself more than him.
He nodded, “Yeah, we’re just friends.” He looked up and met your eyes, and you could see the emotions in his crystal blue eyes. “But I don’t know that I can just be friends.” His voice was soft, making your heart sink deeper.
His head was inches away from yours, his nose almost touching your own. He leaned his head to the side, his eyes traveling your face. His lips were millimeters from yours. “Tell me that you don’t want this, and I’ll walk out right now.”
“I…” You couldn’t form a sentence with his lips so close to your own. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered.
“That’s not what I asked.” He paused, touching his nose to yours lightly. When he spoke, you could feel his words on your lips. “Do you want me to kiss you right now?”
You couldn’t answer him for a few seconds. “I don- I don’t know Colson.” You breathed out, leaning your forehead against his.
Part of you was hoping he would take matters into his own hands and just kiss you, but the other part of you knew you would regret anything that happened right now.
He jerked his head away from you, a frown etched across his face. “When are you gonna make up your goddamn mind? I can never figure out where I’m at with you.” His voice raised slightly, making you jump. “One minute we’re not even talking and the next you’re holding my fucking hand at a party. You say we’re just friends and then don’t say no when I ask if you want me to kiss you. Like what the fuck is this?” He ranted, causing your grip on the edge of the washer to tighten.
“Colson, I told you. I need time to figure all of this out. It doesn’t just happen overnight.” You tried to keep your voice calm.
“It’s been weeks, Y/N. How long do you need?”
Confusion took over your features, and then anger. “Colson do you even realize what you did? Honestly, you’re fucking lucky I even wanted to be friends. You kind of screwed me up, really bad. So, excuse me for needing time to figure out if you’re worth it or not.” Your eyes fell to the floor, suddenly very self-conscious of all the things Colson had said to you 2 months ago.
Colson scoffed, backing away from you, “Well honestly it would be a lot easier if we weren’t friends.” His words were harsh, and you were reminded that he wouldn’t change, not really. “Y/N I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice became soft, but it was already too late.
You hopped off the machine, pushing past him and pulling your damp shirt and shorts out of the dryer. With your back facing him, you pulled your shorts on and then took his shirt off, replacing it with your own.
“Y/N I’m sorry I jus-“
“No, Colson. I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that my existence seems to be the bane of yours.” You shove his shirt into his chest. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” You walked out of the small room and through the house, determined to call a cab home.
231 notes · View notes
cozy-the-overlord · 3 years
Text
Funny Little Ups and Downs
Summary: Loki is having a bad day. The love of his life is being sent away to marry some ridiculous Vanir prince, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Then her little sister shows up to give him a pep talk.
Word Count: 3,824
Pairing: Loki x Sigyn
A/N: Sound the alarms! Alert the media! Cozy wrote something happy! I actually wrote the majority of this over three months ago, then got stuck on the ending and forgot all about it until a few days ago. It’s inspired by “I Love Melvin,” a silly little musical from 1953 starring Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor that employs my favorite trope of all time: the main character’s little sibling bonding with the romantic interest. It’s fun, it’s cute, and I just had to write it. Consider it an apology for all the angst I’ve been throwing your way XD
Warnings: None
Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname
If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)
Read it on Ao3!
Spring in Asgard was truly something to behold. The last dredges of winter melted into memory, leaving behind a crispness in the air and a radiance in the land as vibrant life bloomed across the planet. It was a kind of brilliance that one could hardly resist, and so it was no surprise that the palace gardens were alive with activity— novice warriors sparring in the field, strolling couples engaged in lively conversation, giggling children chasing each other through the labyrinth of brick and shrubbery.
It seemed the very universe was mocking him.
Loki held his head in his hands, huddled in a despondent heap at the edge of the garden bench. It was truly amazing how quickly the sweet spring air turned foul. The day had started with such promise, and now …
“Hi your Highness!” Loki jumped when the little girl plopped down next to him without a warning, crumbs spilling into her braids as she munched on a cookie.
He sighed. “Oh, hello Milla.” He couldn’t say he particularly cared for company at the moment, but he couldn’t find the energy to shoo her off.
Milla studied him, chewing intently. “Are you crying?” she asked.
“Of course not!” Loki bristled. Was he now so pathetic that he was garnering the pity of a child? He huffed in indignation.
She patted his arm as if in consolation. “It’s okay to cry, Prince Loki. I cry all the time.”
Norns.
He swallowed the temptation to shove her away and abandon the bench, electing instead to change the subject. “Did Sigyn send you?”
It wouldn’t have been the first time she delegated her little sister to the position of messenger. Perhaps Milla was here with some kind of news, that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and Sigyn wasn’t getting married after all. But deep down, Loki knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. If that were the case, Sigyn would have come herself.
“No,” Milla said, dashing what little hope he had against the brick walkway. “I saw you leaving from my window. You looked sad.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Was Sigyn mean to you?”
It was such a childish question that Loki laughed, although there was no humor in the sound. Sigyn didn’t have a mean bone in her body. It was something of which he was in perpetual awe. It didn’t matter how badly her day had gone, how grievously she had been wronged—she always had a kind word or a sweet gesture and an eagerness to help. There was a grace about her, a grace that Loki had never seen from anyone else in court.
The way she had broke the news to him, pushing him into the hallway outside her apartment before he even had the chance to knock … it was cruel, but it wasn’t a cruelty she had chosen. He understood that at least.
Loki heaved another sigh. “It wasn’t her fault.”
For a moment, Milla was quiet. He turned away from her. It seemed he really was that pathetic.
“Sigyn got all upset after you left,” she finally said. “She went running upstairs and hid in her room. Now Daddy’s mad because Prince Sverrir is coming over and she’s not ready.” Sverrir. Loki dug his fingernails into his palms. Milla didn’t seem to notice his tension.
“Do you know Prince Sverrir?” she asked.
Loki grit his teeth. “I’ve met him.” It was astonishing how his opinion of the Vanir Crown Prince had changed from aloof indifference to outright hatred within a matter of words. Loki had known Sverrir since they were both children, when Vanaheim’s royal family had come to Asgard for a few weeks to celebrate the millennial anniversary of the end of the Aesir-Vanir War. He had found him to be tiresome as a boy, a trait that did not improve upon adulthood. Loki had avoided him when he could.
Sverrir had only become relevant to him within the last few years, when after one royal visit he began to express an interest in Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir. At this point, Sigyn and Loki had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time, and while a public courtship was still out of the question, Loki had no intention of allowing the foreign prince to pursue what he already called his own.
The court was appalled when it discovered that Sverrir had been hiring harlots and bringing them into his chambers—his guest chambers, the very rooms in which the Asgardian royal family had so kindly allowed him to stay! His insistence that he had never even interacted with the ladies of the night, let alone allowed one on to palace grounds, fell upon deaf ears and Sverrir was forced to return home to avoid further scandal. Loki remembered watching him cross the Bifrost, with his unnatural posture and his idiotic attempt at regality, certain that they’d seen the last of him.
But now here he was again, back with a few years distance and an ailing father, and suddenly every woman in Asgard was ready to fall at his feet. Which would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he decided upon the only woman who didn’t want him in return.
Loki groaned, rubbing his temples. Besides him, Milla prattled on.
“He’s very dull, isn’t he?” she was saying, brushing the cookie crumbs off the front of her dress. “The last time he came over he just sat in the parlor and talked about how much Sigyn would like Vanaheim. I don’t think she was all that interested. And he kept calling me Mina!” She scowled at the ground, as if Sverrir was there, sitting at her feet, before turning back to Loki. “I like you better. You’re nice to me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”
“Yeah!” she grinned, tapping his shoulder enthusiastically. “You know my name, at least. And you gave me my good-luck charm!”
She pulled the charm out from under her top, fastened to her neck by thin strip of leather. It was nothing special, just a simple wooden carving of a cat’s head that he had whittled himself during his time serving as diplomat in Alfheim. He didn’t have near the talent for woodworking of the Elven carvers, but he was patient in his practice. By the end of the trip, he had spent hours upon hours working on the carving of a wolf’s head, Sigyn’s favorite animal, to give to her upon his return. Milla’s cat had been something of an afterthought. Still, he hadn’t been able to hide his smile at the way she squealed in delight when he presented it to her, and Sigyn had seemed more touched by the fact that he thought of her sister than at her own gift.
“Has it worked for you?” he asked.
“I think so,” Milla said, running her finger across the cat’s ear. “Good things happen when I wear it.”
Loki laughed bitterly. He could use a bit of that now. “Have good things happened today?”
She didn’t look up. “I’m still waiting to find out.”
A silence fell over the two of them, heavy and stiff. He wondered what Sigyn was doing, if she was still hiding in her room as her sister claimed. She had been waiting for him that morning, ready to push him out into the hall with shaking hands the moment he arrived at her doorstep. He knew immediately that she had been crying—if her swollen eyes weren’t enough of a giveaway, then the little hiccupping gasps that peppered her words certainly were.
“You can’t be here right now,” she had hissed. “If Father sees you, he’ll lose his mind!”
“What happened?”
“Sverrir made an offer for my hand. My father—Loki, he accepted.”
It had taken a moment for those words to sink in. When they had, he had demanded to speak with her father.
“Loki—”
“He can’t do this! He can’t sell you off like cattle—”
Only he could, and they both knew it.
“Prince Loki?” He turned away from his thoughts and back to Milla. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her voice suddenly very small. “Is Sigyn going to marry Sverrir?”
Loki found he couldn’t answer. There was a threatening lump in the back of his throat, making him unwilling to trust his voice. Sigyn … she was always supposed to marry him. He had been sure of it from the moment he met her, back when they were taking their lessons together. He had pretended to trip when walking by her desk and spilled his potion all over the floor just to have an excuse to talk to her. Thor had rolled his eyes when he heard of it (“could you not just speak to her like a normal person?”), but Sigyn had laughed and offered to help him clean it up, just like the angel she was. And when class ended, he offered to walk her back to her apartment.
Sigyn had smiled, that shy little smile she seemed to reserve for only him. “I’d be honored, my prince.”
Loki was smitten.
And now he was heartbroken.
“You know she doesn’t want to marry him, right?” Milla asked, tugging at his sleeve. “She doesn’t even like him.”
Loki inhaled. “Marriage isn’t just about who you like.” Sigyn had explained this to him just now in the hallway. Her family may have been prestigious in her great-grandfather’s heyday, but a series of poor investments and bad choices had set them on a steady decline. Her marriage to Sverrir would secure their position permanently. Her father would condemn her to a life of loneliness to maintain their status. And Sigyn would accept it, because she was far too good a person to refuse. “You have to think about your future, and your family, and Sverrir is a prince—”
“But you’re a prince too!”
“I don’t have a throne.” Loki sighed. He had never been jealous of Thor’s position as Crown Prince, not really—kingship came with hundreds of little hinderances and headaches that Loki was perfectly content to live without. But if he could stand before Sigyn’s father, not as Odin’s forgotten son but as Asgard’s future ruler … well, he wouldn’t be having to stomach discussion about some Vanir prince, that was for sure.
Milla yanked on his sleeve even harder. “But Sigyn loves you.”                        
Loki’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”
“No.” She said. “But I know she does. She reads your poems every night before she goes to bed.”
He flushed crimson. “Does she?” Oh, those poems. He had never considered himself to be much of a poet, but there was a soft sense of familiarity in words that he had never found anywhere else. And Sigyn … how could one not write about Sigyn?
He never had the courage to read them to her in person, silly, romantic things that they were. Instead he kept to leaving them hidden in spots where only she would find them—wrapped up in her napkin at dinner, buried in her bag at the healing ward, slipped into her dress pocket as they danced. She never said anything about them to him, but he lived for the way she’d squeeze his hand after he passed one to her.
Milla nodded, grinning. “She has them all in a little book, and she keeps it under her pillow.” Loki smiled too at the image, just for a moment, but then reality came crashing back down. She could hold on to as many poems as he could write—it still wouldn’t change anything. He buried his face in his hands once more.
He felt another tug at his sleeve, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with a creased brow. “You love her too, don’t you?” Milla asked. “That’s why you’re so upset.”
Loki huffed. “What I want doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does! It has too!” she insisted, shaking his arm. “You can make it matter.”
“Make it matter?” Suddenly, looking at her there, with her braids and her “good luck” charms and her childish hope was too much to bear. “What would you have me do?” he snapped. “Kidnap your sister?”
Milla flinched. “No … But—”
“There isn’t any ‘but.’ Your father will never allow her to settle for me when there’s a superior option. My father will never care enough to intervene on my behalf.” Norns knew he had tried. But Odin had nothing to gain from a marriage between Loki and Sigyn, and if Odin had nothing to gain, he saw no reason to act. “It’s useless to pretend otherwise. Now are you just going to sit here and bother me all day or do you have somewhere else to be?”
She gulped, abandoning her place besides him on the bench. “I’m sorry, your Highness. I’ll go.” Loki watched her slink off back towards the palace, head down like a whipped pup. Somehow, he felt even worse.
Dinner was miserable.
Loki picked at his food out of a sense of courtesy, with no real appetite to be found. How could he eat, when four seats to his right Sverrir was regaling his audience with descriptions of his perfect bride-to-be? The prince hadn’t yet mentioned Sigyn by name, but he didn’t have to. Loki could see the way his gaze lingered on her table as he described her “perfect form.”
It made him sick.
He had still barely touched his meal by the time many of the merrymakers had moved to the dance floor. Sverrir had gone, too—Loki watched him practically slither across the room to Sigyn’s side to ask her for a dance, watched Sigyn’s nearly imperceptible nod in assent. Now, they commanded the whole of the floor, gliding through the steps as flawlessly as a couple could, Sverrir grinning ear to ear and Sigyn the epitome of quiet repose.
Loki wished he could return to his rooms. He didn’t want to sit there, watching his heart spin and twirl in the hands of another man. But he couldn’t seem to rip his gaze away from her. Her sea-blue skirt matched Sverrir’s cape as it twisted about her, giving her the appearance of some sort of oceanic goddess. He wanted to hate the color, but of course it was beautiful on her. Everything was beautiful on her.
“Prince Loki!”
He was startled out of his despondent silence by the child shrieking his name. Loki barely had the chance to turn around before Milla was upon him, grabbing at his arm and trying to pull him to his feet.
He frowned. “What are you doing up here?”
“Come on!” She yanked at his cape. “You have to dance with Sigyn.”
Wary of making a scene, and too flustered to push her away, Loki stood. “Milla, I—”
“You have to,” she insisted, giving him a push towards the dance floor. “Go! Dance with her!”
He stumbled forward, but the little girl kept corralling him down the podium stairs, towards Sigyn and her aggravating prince.
“Milla!” he hissed. “Can’t you see she’s already dancing with someone?”
“Who cares?” she hissed back, shoving him again. “Dance with her!”
And so Loki made his way down to the dance floor, cheeks burning, holding himself with as much dignity as one could after a literal child herded them like a sheep away from their meal. Luckily, few in the the ballroom seemed to be paying him any mind.
One of the positives of being the forgotten son, he supposed.
Sverrir and Sigyn were in the middle of the floor, still wrapped up in the music. At least, Sverrir was. Sigyn was holding herself as if someone had strapped a wooden board down her back. He couldn’t remember a time where he had seen her so tense. The sight made Loki stiffen.
With a sudden burst of confidence, he tapped on the Vanir prince’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, not bothering to hide the tightness in his voice. “Would you mind if I cut in?”
Sverrir started. “Oh. Uh—” he glanced back at Sigyn. “Do you mind, darling?”
She shook her head, features still perfectly neutral. Only then did Loki notice that, while she was wearing blue, the ribbons weaved through her braids were emerald green.
“Oh!” Sverrir seemed surprised, but quickly shook it off. “Well, then, of course not!” He stepped aside, making a grand gesture towards Sigyn as Loki took his place in her arms with a rigid nod.
For a moment, they only stared at each other, slowly swaying to the notes of the waltz in silence. Sigyn looked away first, turning to watch her feet on floor as if she were a girl in pigtails still learning to dance.
Loki swallowed the desert on his tongue. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Well enough, I suppose,” she murmured. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy, her features twisted in an attempt to hold back the tears. “Loki—I’m sorry.”
There was a lump in the back of his throat. He wished he could hold her to his chest, cup her cheek and promise her that everything was fine. Instead, he only shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I just …” She inhaled. “I wish things were different.”
Don’t we both?
“Is he kind to you at least?” he asked. He would at least be able to rest easier knowing that Sigyn was well cared for, and as irritating as Sverrir was, Loki had never seen anything to suggest that he was cruel. Although … he almost wished Sverrir was a beast of a man—horrible, vicious, barbarous— just so he could have another reason to despise him.
Sigyn shrugged. “He talks a lot.”
“Oh? About what?”
“Absolutely nothing!” she cried. “I’ve never heard of a man who could go on so long without a single thing to say. It makes my head ache.” Sigyn sighed. “But Father finds him interesting.”
Loki scoffed. “Your father would be fascinated by grass growing.”
She laughed. “Probably.”
They danced in silence for a while longer. He liked the silence—the soft, soothing movement was almost enough to make him forget why this night was different from every other he had spent dancing with her. But soon enough, the song came to an end, and he made ready to bid her farewell.
A familiar voice cleared his throat, rasping across the hall. The hum of conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the royal podium, where Prince Sverrir stood, smiling over the masses.
“Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention!” he called. “I would like to make an announcement.”
“Here we go,” whispered Sigyn. She reached out to grasp Loki’s hand.
When the crowd thronged around the podium had appeared to reach a size to his liking, Sverrir continued.
“As many of you know,” he said. “My father’s health has been failing for the past several months, and he has voiced that it is his greatest wish to see me married before he passes. Therefore, I am overjoyed to announce my engagement to one of your very own Asgardian ladies—” He stretched his hand out towards Sigyn, grinning widely as the rest of the nobles whipped around to follow his gaze. “The lovely Lady Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir!”
The ballroom erupted into applause. Sigyn sighed, but quickly masked it with a gracious smile, letting go of Loki’s hand in order to make her way to the podium.
To her fiancé.
Loki didn’t even think. When he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side, he was acting off pure instinct.
“That’s impossible!” he cried to the crowd, to Sverrir. “Completely impossible, your Highness. She can’t marry you.”
The applause fizzled out as quickly as it begun. Confused whispers began skating through the onlookers.
“Loki!” Sigyn hissed. “What are you doing?”
Above them all, Sverrir frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Prince Loki,” he said. “Lord Yngvarr had given me his permission, and Lady Sigyn has accepted. Why can I not marry her?”
Loki didn’t blink. “Because she’s already married to me.”
The crowd exploded into outraged gasps.
Besides him, a wicked grin was blooming across Sigyn’s face.
Sverrir seemed to have been rendered incapable of response. He stood stuttering on the podium, any words he did manage drowned out by the commotion of the entire court processing what was turning out to be even more of a scandal than the last time the Vanir prince came to visit.
Until finally one voice cut through the chaos.
“Liar!” yelled Yngvarr, pushing his way through the crowd. “My daughter would not betray her family in such a manner.” He turned back to Sverrir, fuming. “Your Highness, I’m afraid Prince Loki seems to be playing a prank, and a decidedly unfunny one at that, at the expense of my daughter’s reputation.”
Loki opened his mouth to protest his offense, but before he could find the words, yet another voice joined the foray of madness.
“It’s not a prank, Daddy!” Milla grinned, materializing seemingly out of thin air to pull at her father’s sleeve. “It’s real! I heard them talking about it a week ago.”
Yngvarr whipped around so quickly that one of his whiskers caught on his shoulder plate. “What?”
“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Prince Loki came through the window! They were talking about how they were going to get married as soon as possible, because they love each other so much and they’re soulmates and … and …” she trailed off, seeming to only just be realizing that every pair of eyes in the ballroom was on her.
“And what?” snapped Yngvarr.
Sigyn stepped forward. “And I’m pregnant!”
The roar was deafening.
She turned back towards Loki with a smirk. He could only gape at her.
“What?” she asked. “Did you think I was going to let you have all the fun?”
Loki didn’t bother trying to find words. He just planted his lips on to hers. “I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. He had never meant anything more in his life.
She laughed. “What now?”
“Well,” he said, grinning as he offered her his arm. “It seems we have to get married. After that—” he stopped abruptly. There was something in his pocket, something that he knew hadn’t been there before, bulky and solid. Frowning, he pulled it out to find the rough carving of a cat’s head tied to a loop of worn leather.
He looked up again in confusion. His eyes landed on Milla, beaming at him from across the room. She winked.
Good things happen when I wear it.
Loki smiled, slipping the charm back into his pocket. Next to him, Sigyn tugged at his arm.
“After that?” she repeated.
“After that?” he shrugged, smirking. “We improvise.”
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dclicatus · 5 years
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Closed starter for @royalconsorts {Atem} | Continued from x 
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“Ah, no he’s not. If he was, I think Toothless might get a little jealous over it. Especially since this little guy can sleep in my room with me, while Toothless has to sleep in the house I built for him.” Hiccup laughed, knowing that the dark scaled dragon wouldn’t exactly like sharing his rider’s affections with another animal. “Keeping the dog wouldn’t work out well, which is a shame because he’s kinda cute.”
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