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bubblegump-1-nk · 1 month

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Promises Are Meant to be Broken

- Theodore Nott x fem!Reader, Lorenzo Berkshire x fem!reader

summary: As childhood best friends, Enzo and you made a pact to date and get married before leaving to Hogwarts together. But as you get older, that promise begins to fade in your memory, as opposed to Enzo because it’s all he can think about.

Disclaimer: ok so I know I promised to not write another fic about Theo, but, well…. read the title. Plus, this fic includes Enzo as a romantic-ish partner so…. yeah! also it was my blogs official 2 years as of 4 days ago! Thank you to everyone who enjoys my stories and keeps this mess of a (v hyper fixated) blog alive 💗

***

“When we’re older, if we both aren’t dating someone by 16, we’ll date each other.” 4 year old Enzo said to you, as you were both playing in the forest by your house.

“And if we aren’t married by 21, we’ll marry each other.” You had said, jumping into the river to cool yourself off from the boiling July weather.

“You promise?” Enzo responded, tentatively dipping a toe in.

“I promise.” You said, before grabbing his hand and pulling him in.

—-

“Hey Enzo, pass me that book please. The purple one.” You said, hoping to find the answers to your homework in there.

“Yeah, here you go.” He said as he passed it to you, smiling as he did so.

“Merlin, do any of you know how to do this?” Theo asked from beside you, struggling on his transfiguration homework.

“Just copy mine, it’s in my bag.” Pansy said, not looking up from her potions essay.

“Thanks P, you’re a life saver.”

You and your best friends were all sitting in the library doing your homework, trying to get ahead of it for the week since you all planned to throw a party this Friday.

You had been friends with most of them since childhood, Enzo and your friendship going the farthest back. Your friend group was extremely close, and you all always chose to spend as much time together as possible.

“I can’t do this anymore, I give up.” Mattheo said, slamming his textbook shut.

“Then give up on getting drunk this weekend.” Blaise said, knowing exactly how to motivate Mattheo.

He made an exasperated groan before opening his book again and going back to his work.

“I say we enchant the bottles so they turn to water every time he tries to drink.” Theo whispered to you, smirking at the thought.

You giggled quietly at his joke, staring into his deep blue eyes.

You both kept eye contact for a little longer than necessary before Enzo loudly cleared his throat.

You turned to look at him, giving him a confused look. He pretended he didn’t see it.

Enzo had had a crush on you for as long as he could remember, and been in love with you for a couple months now. He had hoped that you would’ve kept your promise to each other about dating when you turned 16, but seeing as there were only 2 months left in your 6th year he doubted it would ever happen. He wished he had the courage to tell you, but he was so afraid he would ruin your friendship. Draco kept telling him he could play it off as a joke if he ever brought it up, but Enzo knew you. He knew you’d never believe him. Plus, he was sure Theo had a crush on you. And, could he really compete with Theodore Nott? With his 6’4 frame, dark curly hair, brooding stare, and perfect smile?

“Alright, I’m done.” You said, taking him out of his trance.

He was about to speak up and offer to leave with you, but somebody beat him to it.

“I’ll walk back with you. If I stare at this book for one more second my head will explode.” Theo said, packing up his things before grabbing your bag and his.

How Enzo wished his head would explode. He felt bad thinking these things about his best friend, but he couldn’t help it. The girl of his dreams was on the line.

“See you guys later.” You said, and Theo gave the group a nod before putting his hand on the small of your back and leading you both out of the library.

The simple touch erupted butterflies in your stomach. Every touch and look from Theo did. Your crush on Theo was growing stronger and stronger every month, every year, every day. How could it not? He was always doing the cutest things, and Pansy was always feeding your delusions.

“I think I’m going to go take a nap, i feel like a zombie.” You told Theo once you had both entered the Slytherin common room.

“Come sleep in my dorm, I don’t wanna be alone.” Theo said, making a silly pouty face to convince you.

“Fine, but only if you let me borrow clothes.”

“Your wish is my command, principessa.” He said, making you blush. You loved when he used that nickname.

You both quickly made your way towards his dorm, laughing and giggling the entire way up at jokes Theo was making. He really was the funniest guy you knew.

“Here we are.” Theo said, as he opened the door for you.

“Thanks, Teddy.” You said, walking into his shared dorm with Mattheo and Enzo. He blushed at the nickname, and hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You’d spent countless hours here, drunk after parties, doing homework, just hanging out. Their dorm was like your second home. You made your way to Theo’s bed where you plopped yourself down and took off your Mary Jane’s.

“Ok, I want a hoodie. Please.” You said, adding the please after and throwing in a sweet smile.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, walking over to his closet and strategically picking out his Quidditch hoodie that had his name written on the back.

He handed it to you and you thanked him before you began unbuttoning your school shirt.

His gaze lingered on you before you gave him a jokingly seductive look which struck him out of his trance. You giggled as he turned away and watched him quickly fix his pants, and take a couple deep breathes before going to take off his own school shirt to change into some comfortable clothes.

You gaze lingered on his abs, chiseled to perfection due to Quidditch. He changed into a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, which didn’t help your case.

“Ughh, I’m ready to sleep.” He said, embracing you in a hug and laying on top of you.

“Mmph mpaoood.” You said, your voice muffled by his chest.

“What?” He said, laughing, putting his arms on either side of you and lifting his body so he was looking down on you.

“I said: me too!” You said, giggling, before putting your arms around his neck.

“Let’s go to sleep then.” He said, begrudgingly taking himself out of your embrace and getting up to turn the lights off and shut the curtains.

You put yourself under the covers and snuggled into Theo’s bed, his scent all over the sheets putting you in a dreamlike state.

“Sleep tight.” Theo said, admiring the way you looked with his name sprawled over your back.

He held you tightly, and you snuggled into his chest before falling into a peaceful sleep.

___

“Shut the fuck up!” Mattheo said loudly, entering his dorm room with Enzo following close behind, his laugh echoing on the walls.

“Oh shit, the lovebirds are sleeping.” Mattheo said, covering his mouth and dropping his voice to a whisper.

“Huh?” Enzo asks, before stepping into the room and seeing the horrific sight.

You and Theo, both in Theo’s bed, wrapped in a tight embrace, your breaths following the same pattern.

“Fuck off.” Enzo mumbled under his breath, before dropping his things and storming out of the room, leaving a confused Mattheo behind.

—-

“You’re the best!” You say to Enzo, who brought you back a drink.

The music was booming so loudly you could feel it vibrating through your body. The dark green lights were swimming around the room, engulfing everybody. You had just made your way out of the crowded dance floor, which you had easily convinced Enzo to follow you into.

He sat down next to you, spreading his legs and putting his arm on the top of the couch behind you.

“This dress looks really nice on you, y/n.” He said, staring intently at you as he sips out of his own cup.

“Thanks, Enzo. You’re outfit is nice too.” You said, looking at his slightly unbuttoned white shirt with black pants. Simple, but nice.

“You bought me this shirt.”

“Oh that’s right! No wonder I like it.” You said, causing Enzo to chuckle.

“Anyway, I can’t believe Michelle actually showed up.” You said, continuing the conversation. You loved gossiping with Enzo, you two always knew everything going around Hogwarts.

“I know, the nerve. I mean if it was just Draco I would get it, but it’s Pansy’s party too.” He said, referring to the girl who attempted to date Draco even though Pansy and him were “together.”

“Totally. I mean when she tried snogging him they technically weren’t labeled, but everyone knew they were together.” You said, Enzo’s face so close to yours so that you could both here the conversation over the blasting music.

“Yeah-“ He begins, before he’s cut off my Mattheo.

“Yo mate, where’s the extra fire-whiskey.” He says, wobbling over, clear that he doesn’t need any more alcohol.

“Under the black chair.” Enzo says, nodding to the chair, barely taking his eyes off you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite.” He says, causing you to scoff. He begins to walk off before you speak up, and he turns back to you.

“Where’s Theo?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in a while.” Mattheo responded, and Enzo’s eyes are now on the ground, a mean look on his face.

“He said he was gonna go smoke with you though?”

“That prick, he never shares his weed. But no, I haven’t seen him.”

“What? Where is he then?”

“Probably shagging some girl.” Enzo says with a nasty voice.

You turn to him bewildered.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Mattheo said, trying to save his best friend. He knew of Theo’s huge crush on you and he wasn’t going to let him get a bad image with you. Enzo, on the other hand, hadn’t told anyone about his feelings for you.

You give Mattheo a small smile before looking down at your cup.

“He’s probably outside or something, you know how he is. He’s not with some girl, trust me.” Mattheo says, reassuring you.

“You’re right. I’m gonna go look for him.”

Mattheo smirks, hoping tonight will finally be the night Theo mans up and asks you out.

“Wait-“ Enzo starts, but you’re already off.

—-

You make your way up the astronomy tower’s stairs, the last place you can think of to find Theo. The summer weather engulfs you like a warm blanket, and a gentle breeze keeps you from breaking any sort of sweat. The moon and stars are shining so brightly it’s as if you’ve just casted a Lumos charm. As you finally take the last steps and climb onto the platform, you see Theo’s tall frame, facing away from you, leaning on the railing.

“Teddy?” You call out softly, causing him to turn around.

The smoke from his blunt creates a cloudy haze around him, and his eyes are bloodshot, although you can’t tell if it’s due to the drug or if he’s been crying. He smiles softly when he sees you.

“Hey, you.” He opens his arms for you, and you quickly make your way to him. He immediately engulfs you into a tight embrace and puts his face into your hair.

“You ok?” You ask, voice slightly muffled by his chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Just been thinking too much.” He says, as he unwraps himself from around your body.

“Probably all the fire-whiskey I drank.” He says, chuckling. You giggle softly and place yourself next to him on the railing, looking out to the night sky.

“What have you been thinking about?” You ask. You’ve always reassured Theo that he could come to you whenever he needs it, and as much as he appreciates it he just can’t find it in him to express his emotions to others. It makes you feel slightly guilty because he’s always the first one there when you’re feeling down. It used to be Enzo, but it’s been Theo’s arms you’ve been crying into recently.

“Just life. And my place in it.” He says, taking a drag from his blunt.

“What’s your place in it?” You ask, trying to nonchalantly get him to open up.

“Just my place in others lives. I feel like I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, your eyes flicking around his face, trying to search for answers.

“I just feel like I don’t add anything to anyone’s life. Like I’m just a background character. Someone with no importance. Like… like as if nobody needs me.” He says, a soft and sad smile on his face, trying to not worry you with his feelings.

Your quiet for a second, your brain racking around how a boy who brings so much happiness to everyone’s lives could possibly feel this way. A boy who so easily made you fall in love with who he is, without even trying. The wind picks up, and begins blowing with a calming hum.

“I do. I need you.” You finally say, the alcohol in your system making you completely honest.

Theo’s face lifts up to look directly at you, his eyes searching for meaning in yours. Had you really just said what he thought you did? Was this you being friendly, or possibly, hopefully, something more? He reached his hand up to put a piece of hair blown into your face by the wind behind your ear.

“I need you. I need you more than anything actually.” He says, voice soft and sweet.

“I think of you every second I’m awake, and dream of you every second I’m asleep. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, y/n.” He says, sweetly but firmly, wanting to leave no doubt about his feelings in your mind.

“You have no idea how much I’ve daydreamed about you saying that.” You said, putting your hand over his, leaving it on your cheek.

“I think I have an idea, considering it’s all I’ve done for as long as I can remember.” He says, his body now towering over you.

“I feel like I’m dreaming right now.” You say, looking intently into his eyes.

Suddenly, he leans down and his lips are quickly on yours. It takes you a second to kiss back, since you were taken aback by the suddenness of it, but you quickly recuperate and kiss him back eagerly.

The kiss is hungry and earnest, but loving and kind. He tastes sweet and his arms around you are suddenly making you weak in the knees. Your hands make your way to his hair, getting lost in the brown curls.

Your tongues dance together, exploring each other’s mouths. After a little while you both pull away from each other in an attempt to catch your breathes.

“Do you still feel like your dreaming?” He asks, smiling.

“Much more than before, now.” You say giggling, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve had to hold myself back from kissing you.” He says, causing you both to laugh more.

“I wish you hadn’t. This could’ve happened so much sooner.”

“Yeah, after that kiss I wish I hadn’t either. It was better than I ever even imagined.”

You giggle and turn away as your cheeks turn pink. His fingers softly grab your chin, turning you back to face him.

“Now that that’s happened, I don’t want to lose you.” He says, seriously.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it.” You say, smirking playfully. He smiles at you and chuckles as he lightly shakes his head.

“Y/n, can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, making deep eye contact.

“I’d be an idiot if I said no.” You say, before reaching up to connect your lips once again.

—-

It had been almost a week of you officially dating Theo and you couldn’t be happier. None of your friends were surprised when you started dating, seeing as it had been painfully obvious to everyone but you two that you both liked each other. Since you were both in the same friend group, it wasn’t difficult to balance your friend-life with your relationship-life, making it all 100x easier. The only thing that seemed slightly out of place, was your relationship with Enzo. You hadn’t seen much of him the past few days, and would even say he seemed…. angry with you? You couldn’t really tell, but your happiness due to finally dating Theo outweighed all your worries tenfold.

—

It’s officially been a week from Friday, and your making your way to the library to return some books you had finally finished using. As you walked into the quiet and calming atmosphere, you noticed Enzo sitting alone at a table, his notes spread out in front of him. You smiled lightly, wanting to speak to your best friend who you’ve missed so much. You’d barely spoken to him all week, and all your conversations seemed to be cut extremely short by one of his “activities.”

“Hey Enzo.” You say sweetly, sitting down in a chair next to him.

He looks up at you with a strange expression on his face before looking back down at his essay.

“So… how’s your week been?” You ask, attempting to fill the awkward silence and converse with him.

“Fine.” He says, not even glancing in your direction.

You take a deep breath.

“Is everything alright with you? Have I done something?” You ask, confused on why he was acting this way.

“No.”

“Enzo, please. I know you. What are you upset about?”

“Nothing.”

“Enzo!” You say, exasperated, wishing he would tell you what was wrong so you could help fix it.

“Merlin y/n, are you really this dim-witted?” He says rudely, looking up at you for the first time.

“What…?” You ask, taken aback by his cruelty.

“Whatever, I’m done.” He says, as he begins to quickly pack up his things, shoving papers and books into his bag hastily.

“Enzo, please. Just talk to me.” You say, desperate not to lose your best friend over something you don’t even understand. You quickly get up, picking up your pace to keep up with his.

“Just leave me alone y/n.” He says, picking up his own pace. Heads turn to you two, and you can hear the whispers.

“Enzo just talk to me!” You say, reaching for his arm as your exiting the library.

He shakes your hand off. “I don’t want to talk to you! What do you not understand?” He says, stopping brusquely and turning to face you.

Your taken aback by his sudden stop and almost lose your balance.

“Why not? What have I done?!”

“You know exactly what you’ve done!” He says, beginning to walk away again.

You react quickly enough to grab his arm and pull him into an empty classroom before shutting the door.

“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what it is that I’ve done to upset you.”

“Nice try.” He says, before attempting to push past you.

“Enzo don’t do this to me, please. I miss you.” You beg.

“Oh you miss me? Really? Well it doesn’t seem like that ever since him.” He says, anger extremely evident in his voice.

“Him? You mean Theo?” You ask, confused.

“Yes of course I mean Theo.” He says sassily.

“What does Theo have to do with this? I’ve been trying to make time for you but you’re the one who’s always busy!” You say, anger rising in your own voice at his selfishness.

“You don’t understand, do you?” He says, searching in your face for answers.

“What do I not understand?” You ask, already extremely upset with him.

“That I’m fucking in love with you y/n!” He says, his hands flying up to his hair.

“What..?”

“Merlin I’ve been in love with you for years. And I thought you felt the same way until you went off with that git!”

“That git? You mean your best friend? And.. why would you even think that? And why didn’t you say anything earlier?” You ask, spewing out questions rapidly.

He was quiet for a minute, at a loss for words.

“You’re telling me you’ve never felt anything towards me? Ever? We promised each other we would end up together!”

“Enzo we were 4!” You say, bewildered by his claims.

“Ok? It was still a promise!”

“Yeah, one we made when we were 4! Do you not understand how stupid you sound?!”

“That promise meant something to me! I’ve waited every second of every day until we turned 16 until we could finally be together! I thought you had forgotten since we never worked out, but now I know you just never cared enough.” He said, voice filled with sadness.,

“It’s not that I didn’t care Enzo! I care so much for you, but I… I just don’t love you. I’m in love with Theo.”

“God, please don’t say his name.” He says, his eyes filled with hurt.

“I’ll say his name all I want.” You spit out, bitterly.

His face falls even more so than before, his eyes brimming with tears.

“You promised me you’d be with me, and then you go out with my best friend! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He says, a crazy look in his eyes as he rubs his face.

“Yeah, well, promises are meant to be broken.” You say, tears silently falling from your eyes. You couldn’t believe the way Enzo was acting, you’d never seen him like this. In all his selfish glory. You should have actually listened to the rumors that came from his ex-girlfriends.

You turn around to reach for the door handle, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible.

“Y/n, wait!” He says, reaching for your hand to stop you from walking into the hallway.

“You’re my best friend, I don’t want this to end. Please.” He begs, tears still brimming in his eyes, his face and neck splotched with red.

“Let go of me.” You say, before shaking his hand off, and walking away. Leaving him standing in the doorway to wallow in his misery.

—-

Part 2?

#slytherin boys #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #theodore nott #jealousyfic #harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #angst #best friends #enzo berkshire #enzo x reader #promises

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 8 months

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So I found this around, can I ask for Merlin/ Arthur?

♥ Send a ship and I'll give you who:

- Gives nose/forehead kisses

- Gets jealous the most

- Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

- Takes care of on sick days

- Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

- Gives unprompted massages

- Drives/rides shotgun

- Brings the other lunch at work

- Has the better parental relationship

- Tries to start role-playing in bed

- Embarrassingly drunk dancer

- Still cries watching Titanic

- Firmly believes in couples costumes

- Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

- Makes the other eat breakfast

- Remembers anniversaries

- Brings up having kids

Gives nose/forehead kisses Merlin more at first, Arthur if they’ve been together longer

Gets jealous most both. Definitely both. But in different ways, Arthur will glare at someone from across a room, Merlin will spill a drink down someone’s front.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive Arthur picks up Merlin, usually whenever Gwaine dragged him out

Takes care of on sick days both again, Merlin will make soup and help that way, Arthur will worry and cuddle

Drags the other into the water at the beach Arthur drags Merlin every time, he pretends to hate it but his magic likes water since its nature

Gives unprompted massages Arthur, if you ask him about it he’ll stop so Merlin’s learned to just let it happen

Drives Merlin, Arthur can’t drive but he does have good playlists

Brings the other lunch at work Merlin.

Has better parental relationship Definitely Merlin

Role play - pass, never thought about it

Embarrassingly drunk dancer Merlin but Arthur too if he gets drunk enough

Still cries watching titanic Merlin because he thinks about losing Arthur

Firmly believes in couples costumes Arthur, he regrets it after Merlin makes him wear feathers and bells as revenge for that hat.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas Arthur, but he makes it expensive sentimental so Merlin can’t complain

Remembers anniversaries Merlin. Arthur needs reminders but he’ll go all out every time

Brings up having kids they both thought about it, Merlin’s always known Arthur would be great with kids but Arthur brings it up after seeing Merlin with Daegal or Aithusa (in this universe, they’re both happy alive and healthy)

#bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #merlin #merthur #modern merlin #merlin x arthur #headcanon #i’m bad at tagging #ask me anything

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enbysiriusblack · 1 year

Text

Marlene sat on the stairs at James' house, surrounded by strangers chatting and drinking. One couple next to her were snogging, and kept almost falling into her. But Marlene remained, watching Dorcas from across the room.

It felt strange, seeing Dorcas Meadowes in the Potter's house. But Dorcas had strolled in, chatted to various people and was now standing with a beer in hand, laughing at something Sinistra had said.

Marlene's grip on her drink tightened, ans she felt an anger blossom.

A giggle suddenly came from next to her, and she turned to see a very drunk Peter beside her.

"You look sad", Peter pouted, the buttons on his shirt half undone.

"I'm not sad."

He laughed, "Well you look it", then held out a hand for her.

She took it, and suddenly he was running upstairs to one of the bathrooms. He winked before opening the door, revealing Lily and Remus sitting in the bathtub. Alice, Kingsley, and Xenophilius were sat on the floor. Books and ink surrounded them all.

"Welcome to our humble abode", Peter grinned, grabbing a blunt from Xenophilius and lighting it.

"Is this some sort of book and smoke club?"

Kingsley glanced up, "We're writing a short memoir."

Marlene glanced around the room, accepting the cigarette from Peter, "Why?"

Remus shrugged, his eyes still on the book in his hands, "Because Sirius wanted to do shots and we needed an excuse to escape that disaster."

"No, Remus", Lily kicked him, "Because we have meaningful things to say; our thoughts, our words, our lives are passing through time like insignificant specks, but literature is a short immortality. We may forget tonight, but what we write will live on."

She paused for a moment, and slowly frowned, "Okay. I'm too sober for this, I need a drink."

Lily hopped out of the bathtub, and headed downstairs.

Marlene sat down on the floor, "Meadowes is here."

Peter has climbed up to the window sill behind the sink and as he opened it, turned to her, "James invited them, said he likes their fervent attitude towards quidditch."

"You have a crush on Meadowes?" Alice asked, ripping a page out of Chaucer, which Remus was now trying to wrestle from her.

"Merlin, no", Marlene groaned, leaning her head against the cool, tiled wall, "I hate them."

Alice nodded, as if she understood, and leaned towards Kingsley in a whisper, "Just like my Narcissa."

Kingsley laughed, lighting another blunt.

Peter leaned out the window, glancing at the back garden, below, "Hey Marlene, Meadowes is out here."

Marlene shot to her feet, climbing over the sink to reach the window sill. She looked out into the dark garden, spotting Dorcas with Pandora.

"What are they doing?" Marlene narrowed her eyes, watching as the two sat together by one of the bushes.

"You seem like a stalker, Marlene", Kingsley commented.

"I am not. I'm just curious. Meadowes is literally standing right by the fence to my house, maybe they know I live there somehow."

Alice snorted, "You think they're breaking into your house? Pretty, wild accusation."

"Well, I don't know! That's why I'm trying to see!"

Lily opened the door, slamming it shut behind her, and pointed a finger at Remus, "I hate your boyfriend... Okay, I'm ready to write now."

She joined the three on the floor, Remus peering over the tub to watch them.

"Update", Marlene called out, "James is now with them. With a glass of water. I have no clue what's going on."

Peter squinted, sticking his head out the window, "I think Lovegood threw up."

"Oh."

"She did?" Xenophilius stood up, clammering up to the window, "Dora!" He yelled, "Are you okay?"

All three turned to the bathroom window.

Pandora held her thumbs up, and waved.

James yelled back, "What are you doing up there?"

"We're writing!"

He frowned, "At a party?"

Dorcas was staring at Marlene, a small smirk on their face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Marlene shouted to them.

Dorcas' smirk grew, "Were you watching me?"

"No!" Marlene answered, quickly, her cheeks growing red.

Peter turned to her, "Well, you were."

#just watched kill your darlings for the millionth time because allen ginsberg is one of my favourite poets ever <3 #anyway. felt like writing a party. and james would have A LOT of parties at his in the summer holidays #marauders era #marauders #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #dorlene #peter pettigrew #james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #alice fortescue #xenophilius lovegood #kingsley mcintosh

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missmeasured · 1 year

Text

Growing

Summary: At six months pregnant Lily Potter takes a mission to check in on Severus Snape who has been seen with suspected dark wizards. When her now husband had stripped her old friend in front of their classmates many years ago she had made an observation about her friend’s anatomy that proves to be abundantly false.

(Author's note: This story is about Lily finding out that Severus is a “grower not a shower” as they say. I do not condone the idea that size means anything in relation to penises. All penises are good, valid and equal. I just thought it would be interesting to explore if she had assumptions and opinions and was forced to reckon with them.

Pairings: Lily Potter/ Severus Snape

Rating: Explicit

Contents: Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cuckolding, Penis Size Discussions

Growing

Lily wasn’t really sure what was going on with her decision making abilities while she was pregnant, but they were a bit screwy. She had been moved to make this bad decision by a series of smaller ones. Her brain knew that she had come here on a very specific mission and yet it was currently overcome. It was unable to provide helpful information other than Oh my god, it’s so big.

“You thought I was small because of that day by the lake, didn’t you?” Severus suddenly asked, voice full of smugness in the question. It was like he knew that her body was reckoning with being so full as he slowly inched the massive thing into her a little more with each small thrust. She should be reckoning with the fact she was betraying her husband. Instead there was only jaw dropping, brain emptying thickness splitting her open.

This whole month of her pregnancy her pussy had felt like a swollen throbbing beacon. Sex was her every thought, every dream. She was never not in the mood. Every caress of her sex was like scratching an itch that was never ending. Now she was dripping with eager excitement in this bad decision she was making. Bent over the back of his sofa, thinking about how full she was, how deeply that itch was being scratched, and not particularly about James.

“Merlin, woman. Listen to you. Does your husband never fuck you?” He asked with satisfaction after she had cried out when he reached his hand around her to pet her clit. With the little promise of pleasure her body had relented and let him press that last inch inside.

Lily did not know what to say to that. James did fuck her, but wasn’t around very much lately. He was always off Order of the Phoenix-ing and telling her she could not join him because of her “condition”. It meant alot of being bored, alot of masturbating angrily when he didn’t come home when he said he would. Then grief and terror when the hours passed and she imagined him dead, then anger again when he showed up with Sirius drunk as a skunk, from too much celebration over a victory.

Knowing what to say to Severus’s jabs at James was a moot point at this juncture as forming sentences was not going to happen. It was just. so. thick. She felt herself clinging to his length each time he withdrew, felt torn open again when he replaced it. She was sure she was a little torn, there was a stinging pain, intertwining with the pleasure. A problem for later. Her hormones had been running wild through her and they demanded this violence. Wanted her own destruction.

Severus was right of course. He usually was, annoying git. She had assumed he was small. That horrible day, the end of their friendship, she had seen- they had all seen… and it had been wrong of James to do it. It had been the cherry on top of the mudblood comment. Not only had Severus hurt her, but what she had seen while James stripped him had moved him into the category of pitiable creature to her. She had been so naive then, they all had. Of course, as an adult woman she knew that some men grew after they became aroused, not before. But Jame’s cock was always at his steadfast just above average length and width. Or so she had been told by James himself, for she had not seen over many penises.

Now, the truth that she had been so wrong was a fact she was being forced to consider with every bloody centimetre. This cock was more of a stretch than the stretch it would take to figure out how she got herself into this situation.

When it had come up that someone close to him should go see if they could find out if he was a death eater now, she had volunteered without even casting a consulting glance at her husband. So many months of doing nothing, checking in on a former friend who has been seen in public with suspected dark wizards was hardly a mission she was too frail to perform. James was as angry as if she had volunteered to take out He-who-must-not-be-named himself with a toothpick and teaspoon as her only weapons. He had yelled. It had been ugly.

Lily had failed to see how it was going to be a problem. She knew that Severus’ father had recently passed and that he had inherited the house and moved back into her parents' neighborhood. That was all the pretense she needed. To go by and see how he was doing. She hadn’t expected him to be so transformed.

When he answered the door, it had not been the string bean with oily hair and old clothes who answered the door. He had very suddenly become a man, it seemed to Lily as he opened the door to his house. He was transformed, new clothing, well kept. She supposed being best friends with a Malfoy had a dress code.

There had been a few tense back and forths between them, but while he intimated he had no interest in seeing her, he did not close the door. Intent on her spying mission she had kept up pressure at forcing a reconciliation, all the while keeping track of his newfound confidence, his cocky kind of air when he showed her the changes he had begun making to the run down house she had seen only a couple of times while they were kids.

She tried to pry into his life, asking about his job and everything she could think of without asking outright. Severus was too clever for this kind of direct approach she realized too late. She felt like the one under observation, his eyes were burning her with their direct stare, like he could see inside her. She hoped he was just surprised to see her. When he tried to get her to leave she let herself give him her full bright smile. Let her eyes twinkle. It was as close as she would dare go to flirting with him. She immediately felt guilt about it, for trying to exploit feelings she knew full well he had before.

She had almost left. She had almost walked right out the door when he started flirting back. The worst thing about it was that when she responded, it didn’t come from the calculated spy’s intentions, but instead it came from something much lower in her body; that pesky ache that would never cease its wanting. Why had she needed attention today? Needed it extra badly that James was giving her the silent treatment.

One small bad decision to flirt after another and as they were saying goodbye he very suddenly pulled her into an unexpected hug. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers parting the strands of her hair too intimately. The hold was too close and when he had pulled her away from him and locked eyes with her. She knew full well what the eyes were asking, and she knew that if she did not pull away that he would take her stillness as a yes to his silent question and kiss her.

Her head had been screaming to break away but something deep inside her had a little too much curiosity about a different version of her life. When the distance between their faces slipped away to nothing, his lips ignited a fire inside her hormonal body. Like how sometimes she would just be ravenous to eat everything in their cottage, now she was ravenous for Severus and there was nothing to be done about it. Nothing would stop this very primal urge from having its say.

His hands started grabbing at her like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. No one expects an old friend and flame to show up at their door. Certainly no one expects them to crumple at the slightest attempt at seduction, but here she was acting like the easiest slut that ever lived. As the pretence of leaving was dropped, so was her bag and suddenly this snogging was taking place against the back of the sofa that was on the way to the front door. He had peeled off her denim jacket and she had heard the metal buttons hit the floor nearby.

Severus put her behind up on the back of the sofa so he could part her legs. Lily’s thighs were happy to receive the visiting hands, her sundress provided very easy access to her legs. At her eager mewing he went right to her centre and found that under that growing baby bump she was soaked through her cotton thong already, he moved the damp pittance of fabric out of the way and wasted no time in inserting his middle finger deep inside her.

“I finally have my fingers inside Lily Evans.” He teased into her ear. “Remember that summer when we were fifteen and you were so… horny and angry at everything? You almost let me that day by the pond. Remember?”

“Of course I remember.” She fairly panted as he explored her slick entrance.

“You’re even wetter now than you were as a ready teen.”

“Hormones.”

“Here I thought you were here to poke around and ask questions for that club your husband is part of and now I see why you’re really here. You want to be fucked, and your prig of a husband isn’t doing it for you.”

“That’s not true.” Lily had tried to assert but her voice quavered as her old friend's long fingers had begun rhythmically plunging in and out of her. Then she moaned in a way she had not done during sex in quite some time. The moral wrongness about what she was doing, mixed with her body’s needs made her feel quite unhinged. She forgot about Severus’ unkind assertions and reached to grab his cock through his trousers.

She palmed him and apparently that was all the permission he needed, he took it out and her jaw fell open. He stroked the massive thing and looked at her while she looked at it. “Merlin, Sev… that’s…huge.”

“Be brave little Gryffindor. You can take it.” Was his teasing reply as he had turned her over so she was bent across the sofa back. Then he had started rubbing the head of this tree trunk up and down her soaking wet slit. When he grabbed her thong and pulled it out of the way she shivered with arousal as he stared at her most intimate places.

“I used to lay in bed upstairs in this house as a sixteen year old imagining this… Trying to guess what the head of my cock would look like surrounded by your pretty copper coloured curls. My imaginings were very accurate I think. Such pretty lips…they look quite nice around me. I take it from your moaning that you want me to put this inside you?”

Saying yes felt too guilty. Lily murmured in a tone of agreement instead as if that was less of a betrayal of her husband. Her mouth hung slack as he made his first press, the head of it alone made her feel full. Some minutes later, when he was fully inside of her and finished with his interrogation confirming she had assumed he was small he kind of started laughing.

“Your asshole of a husband showed most of our year my cock that day… serves him right that it’s in his wife now.” Severus smugly asserted while he fucked her. Lily knew she should tell him to stop saying such things but she found his words made her even more aroused.

His hand came around to her clit again.”Let’s make you come on it, shall we?” He asked rhetorically before increasing his pace. Her moans fell out of her mouth with no stopping them. She had never felt so full before, she had never needed to come so bad in her life. “I have to say, knowing I’m cuckolding your husband makes it really hard not to come right… this… second.” He grunted.

His fingers on her clit in combination with his continuous stretching of her pussy was bringing her to the brink. “Look at me in the mirror over the fireplace. I want to see your eyes as you come on my cock, Mrs Potter.”

She hadn’t noticed the mirror before then. Knowing he had been watching her face this whole time, every slack jawed moment of taking his cock had been carefully observed Lily Potter began having an orgasm. It was big and it didn’t stop. She just kept finding new levels of pleasure as his cock ravished her senseless.

In the mirror she saw a completely wanton woman playing dangerously with her life as she knew it, and the sight should have woken her from her reverie but it did not. Her former friend finding his release inside her should have made her snap out of it, but it did not. She relished the depth of the heat he had just released inside her and as soon as he withdrew she felt it start dripping out of her. He held her still with two hands, pressing her against the sofa, looking at the mess he had made before he let her go.

When she was back on her feet and the lust had begun to fade, she pulled her panties back into place but knew the wadded up wet middle of them would do next to nothing to stop his orgasm from spilling down her leg. She would need to spell it away but first she needed to find her bag and get out of here. She grabbed it and she ran with a hasty goodbye. The guilt flooded in as soon as the tide of lust had gone out.

Halfway down the walk his hand was on her wrist, she yanked it back. He looked at her with squinting eyes. She wondered if ripping her wrist away was too much like another rejection of him. “You forgot your jacket.” He informed, handing the bundle to her, but not releasing his side of the garment.

“Thank you.” She said quickly. Out in the open now, James could be watching, waiting for her. He knew where she was.

“If you ever need… anything.” Severus began and trailed off. He seemed to remember something, a wall he had let down. He stopped speaking. She knew what he meant. She knew where to find him. He released the jacket and turned on his heel and back into his house.

Lily muttered the spell that would clean up the bulk of the slipperiness between her thighs before crossing his garden gate. The spell line for defences on his house must be there for as soon as she crossed it, she heard James whisper to her from under his invisibility cloak.

“You had me worried sick you should have been home half an hour ago.”

Lily remained silent as they walked down the block, but James kept up his whispered questioning. Finally when they were actually a safe distance away to speak she said “People do not just come out and tell you when they are a death eater you know. I was talking to him like an old friend as the mission called for. He showed me the improvements he was making to his house. I do not need a babysitter for this.”

“Well. Is he a Death Eater?”

“I didn’t see any evidence of dark magic in his house.”

“That doesn't mean-“

“I KNOW.” She snapped. Suddenly the baby was moving and she had to stop walking and touch the growing bump. One growing thing at a time. Her growing annoyance at her husband would have to wait. It always seemed like the little one got upset when she did. It fussed inside her, kicking her in the bladder.

James must have noticed her stop and hold her belly for suddenly he stopped yelling, got softer, turned back into the man she loved for a moment.“Are you alright? Is it kicking? I’m sorry about how I’ve been handling this. I just feel so protective of you. If he so much as laid a finger on you I’d kill him.”

A clearing of a throat behind them and Lily’s head snapped up, her eyes widened as she took in Severus having just caught up with them. His eyes peered at the space where James was standing like he could see through the cloak. Of course he couldn’t but James had been speaking too loudly not to be heard if he had been close.

Severus extended his hand out, inside was Lily’s locket. It must have come unclasped somewhere in his house. Her cheeks burned red at looking him in the face beside her hidden husband. “Look what I found… in the pillows…” his eyes watched the space beside Lily as he said it. How like Severus to choose to say pillows instead of cushions. To paint her husband a picture, to provoke him from coming out of hiding.

“Thanks.” She said ungraciously, snapping the precious object out of his open palm.

“I just want to say…” Severus began, purposefully trying to make her sweat, to panic, to reveal her hidden husband. Lily’s mind came up with a hundred endings to that sentence that she wouldn’t want James to hear. Was he about to blow up her life on purpose? His eyes flicked to the empty space Lily was desperately trying not to look over at. “That it was kind of you to visit, and open up to me. I’m glad I got to fill you in on what I’ve been up to. I hope you’ll come again.”

Lily could have choked on all the double meanings. She managed to squeak out a “See you around.” With a passing attempt for a casual smile. It was all lost on James luckily.

Later, when James was bent on reconciliation and apologies, she found herself having makeup sex, trying not to show her guilt, her hesitance to do it when she had been begging him for it just that morning. No shower, no bath could wash away the growing feeling that her husband was a small, petty person, and worse… that his cock would never make her feel like she had on the back of Severus’s couch as her eyes rolled back in her head and he had thoroughly and deeply scratched that itch.

#smut from the drafts bin #snape/lily #severus snape fic #lily potter #snily fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #fanfiction #pro snape #snape community #snape love #snape smut #snape #severus snape #oneshot #snaddy #snut #not sfw #severus #miss measured

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diana-bookfairchild · 1 year

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@hinnymicrofic May Day 21: Drunk

“Alright, Weasley?” Potter smirked at her. “Not too despairing, I hope? I won’t catch you if you faint.”

“Ha fucking ha, Potter,” Ginny snarled. “Just because your team got this shot doesn’t mean you’ll win. Wait and watch. We’ll be winning today.”

Potter smiled that absolutely infuriating smug smile of his. “You go on dreaming,” he said in a faux soothing voice. “But I have to go fly. And win.”

He flew seemingly erratically and dismantled her teammates’ formation with next to no effort.

Ginny gritted her teeth.

Harry Potter was a legend in quidditch. He’d been selected for his house team in his first year, led Ravenclaw to a victory several times, missed a catch only a handful of times and had been picked as reserve seeker straight out of school by the Pride of Portree before starting for the Ballycastle Bats.

The first time, Ginny had been excited to play him.

That had been before she’d realized what a Merlin damned asshole he was.

Well. Famous prodigy or not, she and her team would beat him and his.

Ginny seized the quaffle mid switch of the Bats’ Chasers. She passed it to Val who passed it back to her right in time and position to score. Fans roared and booed. She turned to Potter and made a violently rude gesture at him.

He only smirked back at her.

For some reason, that sent a shiver down her spine.

The next forty minutes were a deadly dance of taunting and dodging and scoring and flying. Ginny’s blood sang in the air. Flying brought a thrill to her she never got anywhere else, except for from Harry Potter’s scorching glares and mocking.

He seemed to delight in frustrating her. He was edging her, blocking her, ruining her plays ever other second. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was unnervingly concentrated on her, despite him always being an active seeker in all his matches.

A Bat scored again, and Potter did a loop-de-loop in celebration before shooting in a slanted line towards the centre of the pitch.

Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. The Snitch!

Potter was widely regarded as the best Seeker in the League. Melissa was good, but Ginny wasn’t being cruel when she thought she was no match for him. Their only hope was the score: which was currently two-ten to sixty in the Harpies’ favour.

If Potter caught the Snitch, they would lose.

Ginny dove down, and her stomach dropped and rose all at once at the terror and thrill and joy of the act. She buzzed the opposing chaser, nearly Blatched another, grabbed the quaffle and threw it at the hoops.

It was a long shot – but the keeper had been distracted by the Snitch chase and the quaffle sailed through the left hoop right as Potter’s fist closed around the Snitch.

The spectators roared. There was a great deal of confusion. But finally, the referee declared the Holyhead Harpies to be the winners.

Ginny whooped as she took her victory lap. Her eyes met Potter’s, and she tilted her head towards him cockily. His gaze was burning. Hate and, somehow, admiration. Ginny’s heart flipped unnaturally, and she ignored it as she sped towards her celebrating teammates.

She spent the next few hours at the Holyhead unofficial pub, getting congratulated and mobbed by fans and drunk with her teammates. Vision blurring a little – she’d perhaps had one drink too many – she flooed to the nearest public floo point to her apartment.

Her head spun as she walked back home, dazed and drunk on joy and alcohol.

“Weasley,” came a slurred voice. “If it isn’t the bloody heroine of the hour.”

Ginny turned. If she was drunk, Harry Potter was completely plastered. His hair was more of a rat’s nest than usual, his features were slack, but his green eyes were as blazing as ever.

“Potter. Why, here to expend your Loser’s Lurgy?” She instantly regretted referring to one of Luna’s wild stories. To her surprise, Potter just barked a laugh.

“You’re friends with Luna too, huh?” She stared. Why the hell had she never told Ginny Luna was friends with Quidditch Star Harry Potter? “Nothing like that. Mates an’ me got drunk, and Dad and Mum and Sirius will never let me hear the end of it if I go to them, and Hermione would kill me for drinking dangerously. And Nev’s out of town. So just. . . Wandering ‘round.”

In one sentence Potter had told her more than she ever wanted to know about his life.

“Like I wanted to know, Potter,” she jeered. She turned to go.

“You asked, Weasley.” Came his teasing voice. Ginny pressed her eyes shut furiously. She supposed she had. “Not going to bitch or gloat about your win?”

“Me, gloat?” Ginny’s voice was taut as she went and pressed her finger to his chest. He just smiled at her, giving her that damned smugly superior look she hated. “Says Harry Potter, the sorest winner in the whole world!”

Potter laughed incredulously. “Coming from Ginevra Weasley, the most morally superior too good for everyone player?”

“The worst—”

“Bloody crazy and arrogant—”

“Infuriating asshole—”

“Self-righteous shrew with attitude problems—”

“Smirking like the bloody devil himself, why are you so—” Ginny breathed heavily. “So incredibly good at quidditch—”

“And why are you so. . . .” Potter’s voice dropped to a ragged whisper. “So. . . so fucking pretty?”

Their eyes met. And the next moment, they were kissing.

Potter kissed like a storm. He kissed her like she was the last thing left on earth. He kissed her like she was water in a desert.

Gasping, they tore away from each other as someone called at them to get a room.

This was a terrible idea.

Her brothers would encourage it, which was a warning all in itself. Her parents would be very sternly horrified. They were on opposite teams, facing in the league.

She didn’t care.

He was a drug she wanted to get high, delirious, drunk on.

This was a terrible idea.

“My apartment’s that way,” she said.

#hinny #hinny microfic #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #harry james potter #ginny weasley #rivals with benefits #rivals to lovers #got a little too long #oops #seventh in a row!!!#alternate universe #Have a LOT of thoughts about this AU #Last one for a bit

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lynnt1ny · 3 months

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You're Magic To Me: Ch. 9

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Woosan (Multichaptered; Prince!Wooyoung and Servant!San)

Full WC: 91.3k Ch. 9 WC: 6.9k

Fic Blurb:

Wooyoung didn’t know what he did to deserve such a horrible manservant. With the weight of the kingdom over his head and the constant demands of his father, he couldn’t afford to deal with this every day. But why did San have to be so bloody endearing? After a series of coincidences, San found himself stuck at the Prince’s side, day in and day out. Of course he’d accidentally fall in love along the way. San didn’t know what to expect when he moved into the castle, but it certainly wasn’t this. --- Aka, my Merlin-obsessed ass decided to write a Merlin-inspired fic.

A Servant of Two Masters

He had too much to drink. That explained it- the stumble in his step, the blurry edges of his vision.

San didn’t know where he was. He thought he was walking towards the physician’s chambers, but all he could make out was a long drawl of monotonous stone walls.

It was late. He had passed a window on the way, and it was dark. The stars hadn’t come out tonight, but the moon hung there, bright and only adding to San’s already growing headache.

Bracing a hand against a wall, he slowed to a stop, shoulder hitting the rough, uneven stone. He blinked, willing away the fog, but the world was still cloaked under a fuzzy veil.

There was something wrong. He only had a little bit of wine.

Where was Sena? She had left him outside Wooyoung’s room, telling him to get some sleep. Her words pulled at something in him, and yes, if she wanted him to sleep, he would gladly pass out on the spot at her words.

She looked so sad, though. San wanted to make her smile. He wanted to kiss her again. Would that make her happy?

He bit down the sudden urge to go find her. She wouldn’t want him to do that- she told him to get some sleep.

His head hurt.

San took a faltering step, fingers tightening against the stone. His knees were weak, and he gave in, stumbling back and letting his back hit the wall. Before he knew it, San was on the floor, sitting against it.

He had kissed Sena. It was wonderful. He wanted to do it again. Maybe that would ease his headache.

Her lips were as soft as they looked, and when he closed his eyes, her long locks were cut short, her jaw heavier, brown eyes instead of blue. It was addicting. God, he wanted to do it again.

His head dipped, lolling slightly to the side. He must look drunk out of his mind, which didn’t make any sense. And his head was full of Sena. All Sena, when before, he could swear it was only Wooyoung.

Wooyoung… a deep pang set in his heart. What was wrong with him? A giddy laugh built in his chest, delirious and out of his mind.

His feelings… they were gone, snapped out of existence. He was free- he didn’t have to hurt from the shadows anymore as Wooyoung inevitably fell for someone else, because now it wouldn’t hurt.

Choi San did not love Wooyoung anymore. His head knocked back hard against the wall, and he winced.

“San?”

He blinked, a wavering figure standing over him, concerned eyes peering down at him. San shifted, shivering slightly. He didn’t know if it was an apparition or not, an effect of the hammer pounding at his skull. “H-Hongjoong?” he smiled. “Hi~.”

The man crouched in front of him, a hand on San’s knee. “What did you do to yourself? Why aren’t you with Wooyoung?”

“Young-ah?” San laughed. “He’s okay. M going to bed- supposed to sleep.”

Hongjoong winced. “Now’s not the best time to drink yourself silly, San. Woo.. he’s going to need you to be yourself.” He bit his lip, looking off to the side.

San shook his head. “Can you.. can you take me to sleep?”

“Wooyoung’s?”

“No.. my own bed please.”

Hongjoong’s were gleaming, something in them San couldn’t place. “Did you two have a fight?”

“No, I just.. Sena told me to sleep,” San’s head hurt. “I need sleep.” He reached his arms out, ready for Hongjoong to help him up.

“I’m taking you to Wooyoung.”

“No.”

“Why?” Deep creases set between Hongjoong’s brows.

“‘M embarrassed,” San groaned. “Kissed Sena. He’s probably mad at me.”

“You… you did what?”

“Sena..”

Hongjoong’s eyes were wide, boring into him. His fingers tightened against San’s knee. “And.. and Wooyoung knows?” His voice was a whisper.

“I mean, yeah.. He was right there.”

Hongjoong stared at him, horror twisted on his face. “What the hell, San.”

“She’s pretty,” San slurred. “One moment, I’m fine, and the next…” he laughed. “I think I’m in love with her.”

“No, you aren’t. Jesus christ, San, how much did you drink?” Hongjoong leaned in, nose scrunched up, trying to catch a whiff of alcohol on San’s clothes.

San smiled. “Just take me to my room, Hongjoong. Please?”

The conflict was visible on Hongjoong’s face, and San was too out of it to understand why. Why was he upset over this? To San, it was all so simple.

Hongjoong finally hooked his arms under San’s armpits and hauled him to his feet. San winced, the sudden movement making his head spin and the rough handling making him almost fall over again. When he looked up again, Hongjoong looked pissed.

“Seonghwa is doing your job tomorrow,” he said. “You’re right. Wooyoung won’t want to see you.”

Hongjoong’s words hurt a little, but something in San’s head blocked it, muffling the feeling down to a soft ache. A small pleasant buzz overtook his pounding headache, and he hummed in confusion.

“Okay, then..” San said. He gulped back a confused laugh. It didn’t look like Hongjoong would appreciate it.

Hongjoong’s lips were pressed together, but he wrapped an arm around San’s back and let him lean against him. “God,” he huffed. “San, you really have the worst timing.” The words were lighthearted, but there was an edge of anger laced in them. “I can’t believe you.. that you did this.”

San didn’t reply, too focused on how Hongjoong had started walking, moving them both down the corridor at a snail’s pace. He stumbled over his own feet the whole way, wondering how the hell he let himself get this drunk.

Wasn’t the headache supposed to come after? He suddenly felt like asking Hongjoong to do a checkup on him, to make sure everything was okay. He wasn’t this much of a lightweight.

But the voice in his head stopped him, whispers of ‘Sleep.. go to sleep, San.’ whirling through his mind in a loop, clogging up all the space he needed to make rational decisions.

He hummed, closing his eyes and letting Hongjoong half-carry him back to the room. He’d get to see Sena more if he took his job off tomorrow. Yes, Hongjoong’s idea to let Seonghwa take over was great.

They both burst through doors of the physician’s chambers.

“I think you can find your way from here,” Hongjoong said, patting San’s head. It was reserved- usually he would ruffle it until San protested against it. But now, Hongjoong only had a small smile, a gleam of anger in his eyes. “Get some rest. And then we need to talk.”

(。-`ω´-)

Seonghwa didn’t wake him up. He didn’t need to; Wooyoung was already wide awake, half-sitting up against his pillows.

The truth was, the tears had already formed in his eyes, and when he saw Seonghwa standing there instead of his usual dimple filled servant, they finally fell.

He didn’t cry last night. To be honest, he was proud of that, even if it was because of the shock, or the numbness that crept into his bones. But no, they were stockpiling until now.

So he started crying, and Seonghwa stood by the side of the bed, an awkward hand rubbing circles over Wooyoung’s arm.

Seonghwa didn’t ask what happened yet, and for that Wooyoung was grateful. There was no way he could answer now- not with him choking on air, his chest heaving to contain the wracking sobs that left his lips.

The image from last night replayed over in his head. The universe was sick. Over the course of his life, this had to be the cruelest joke it played on him.

Now that he had time to process it, it was like experiencing the kiss again tenfold- an outsider at his own dinner table.

Seonghwa sat next to Wooyoung, telling him to breathe, and he tried. It was all too much, and he curled into himself. Eyes closed, he could pretend it was San’s hand on his arm instead of Seonghwa’s.

He knew it wasn’t.

Eventually, he was numb again, sobs subsiding. He thought he knew what it felt like to be heartbroken, but no, this was it- the emptiness. He was drowning again, but he gave up on struggling, letting the water clog his lungs, feeling it burn in his chest. San’s face grinned over him from above the surface.

It was all too much.

He kicked away the sheets, startling Seonghwa as he sat fully up, wiping at his face and gasping. There was a glass of water in Seonghwa’s other hand, and Wooyoung grabbed it thankfully, washing down his sobs as he gulped it down.

He was a mess.

Seonghwa patted his back, and Wooyoung anchored himself to that touch. He briefly wondered how Seonghwa knew exactly what to do to help. As much as he hated it, he needed this crying session. Seonghwa was staying strong for the both of them.

“D-Do you.. do you know why…” Wooyoung finally addressed Seonghwa, trying to force the question out.

Seonghwa already knew what he was going to say. “Hongjoong told me San was drunk out of his mind last night,” Seonghwa said. “Besides that, I don’t know what happened. Hongjoong told me to ask you myself.”

It was easier to breathe now, after the water, and Wooyoung leaned forward, hunched into himself. Seonghwa sat on the edge of the bed behind him, a hand still on his back. “You can talk to me,” he said. “Since apparently San isn’t an option, and Yeosang is… Yeosang.”

Wooyoung tried to laugh. He really did, but it wasn’t happening. He gulped, sucking in long, deep breaths. “I…” He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to make it real.

But it was, and he needed to get past it.

“San kissed Sena,” he whispered, and Seonghwa’s jaw dropped open behind him.

“He did what?”

Wooyoung shook his head. He would not repeat it. He waited for Seonghwa to ask why it was such a big deal- why Wooyoung had just spent the last five minutes a sobbing wreck, but the question never came.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Seonghwa said. His hand stilled on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Was it.. like.. just a peck?”

Wooyoung turned his head and glared at him. “What do you think?” He pointed at his face, incredulous. His cheeks were tear-stained, eyes rubbed red and hair disheveled from Wooyoung pulling at it all night. “Does it look like it was just a peck?

Seonghwa looked away. “Sorry,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. “But... it doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t sound like him.”

The truth was, Wooyoung knew it didn’t sound like San.

He didn’t even know why this hit him so hard. Yes, he’d burn the world to be in Sena’s place, but he didn’t know why it hurt so fucking bad. People kissed all the time. He could go right up to Yeosang’s room and peck him now, and it wouldn’t mean a thing.

No. It all boiled down to the way San looked at her, the soft sparkle in his eye, usually reserved for Wooyoung. It was the blankness in his gaze when Wooyoung called his name. It was the feeling of letting a lover slip through his fingers, even if they never crossed that line.

Apparently, Sena beat him to it.

“They have been spending a lot of time together,” Wooyoung mumbled. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was necessary. “It’s just… we had a falling out a few days ago. He… He told me nothing would happen between them, and now..”

Seonghwa didn’t say anything, and Wooyoung didn’t expect him to. There wasn’t much he could say to help Wooyoung feel better. He needed.. He needed San’s explanation, but he didn’t know if he could see San without sitting at that dinner table again in his head.

Wooyoung felt the weight shift on the bed as Seonghwa stood up. He walked to the side of the room, pulling out a brush, and then he was back behind Wooyoung, twisted to the side.

Seonghwa was careful, gently teasing out the knots that had formed in Wooyoung’s hair. It was so normal.

The world keeps going, even when yours seems to fall apart at your feet.

“You should talk to Sena,” Seonghwa said. “This whole thing sounds weird. She has magic, right? She could have… done something.”

Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that possibility. Could that be it? Did Sena.. trick him? Cast a spell?

But that look in San’s eyes…

“I’ll talk to her eventually,” Wooyoung said. “Once I’ve had time to.. process more.”

Seonghwa hummed, seemingly satisfied. “You should also consider adding to my pay, considering all the times I’ve had to fill for San’s stupidity.”

The corners of Wooyoung’s mouth twitched up. “Maybe.”

“Good.” Seonghwa stilled behind him. “Now, let’s get you ready for the day.”

Wooyoung caught a glimpse of San on the way to the council rooms.

He was leaning against the wall, a small smile on his lips. Pink hair bunched behind his ears. It was definitely growing longer, but the roots kept its bright color, as if it was naturally growing out of his head.

But that’s not what Wooyoung focused on. No, San’s eyes were closed, and his fingers were circled around his wrist, twisting over a leather band.

Wooyoung was going to regret this.

“San!” he called out. His voice was weak.

San’s eyes snapped open, and Wooyoung gulped under his gaze.

“Sire?”

Oh… they were back to titles, then?

His body acted on habit, even as his mind yelled in protest, and Wooyoung drew closer, standing in front of his servant.

“What… what are you doing?” he asked.

Now, he could probably take him in. San’s cheeks were tinted pink, a soft, warm color above his eyes. He was wearing makeup again. Of course he was. His eyes themselves were dark, irises almost completely hidden by dilated pupils. Wooyoung would be worried if not for the wide smile on his face, lips pink like his hair.

Whatever this was: it wasn’t good for Wooyoung’s heart.

“I thinking,” San said.

Normally, Wooyoung would return with a jab- something like ‘Thinking? San, you’re going to hurt yourself.’ Instead, he found his hands at his sleeves, fiddling with the fabric. It was an unconscious tick he didn’t even realize he had until now.

“Okay.. what are you thinking about?” he asked, thinking back to the soft smile he caught on San’s lips before he spoke. It was weird, but he wanted to taste it. Sena kissed San after a meal and some wine. Wooyoung wanted to do it now- when it was just San and his smiles, dimples on display to brush his fingers over.

“It’s nothing important. I’m just..” San sighed, brows tilted up. “I’m going to see Sena soon for a magic lesson. It might be the last before she leaves.”

Wooyoung perked up. “Oh? She’s leaving?” He mentally fist-bumped the air. “When?”

“In a few days. She said she finished what she came to do, whatever that means,” San said. “I’m so excited! Essetir is going to be so beautiful.”

Wooyoung’s mental celebration stopped with a screech.

What?

Wooyoung took a small step back. “What.. what do you mean?”

San blinked at him, pretty lashes fluttering above the top of his cheekbones. “She invited me to come with her. Isn’t that exciting!”

“N-no..”

San laughed. “You don’t have to worry. She said she’d take care of Beomseok. He won’t execute me for leaving my post,” he said. “And you can get an actual, competent servant for once. It’s a win-win situation, and your rooms won’t be a mess anymore.”

Wooyoung never cared about the rooms.

“You..” Wooyoung stumbled away. He needed to leave. Now. He needed.. He couldn’t look at San anymore.

He’s wearing makeup for Sena. They’re having another magic lesson, he…

San wants to leave Sinsu.

If last night was bad, this was a thousand times worse.

He failed. Wooyoung wasn’t good enough… wasn’t good enough to make San want to stay with him. Somewhere along the way, he screwed up. He must have.

His father always told him to stop getting attached to people. Maybe he was right.

Wooyoung couldn’t take this anymore. He turned tail and all but ran to his rooms, choking on air.

(。-`ω´-)

Sena wanted to meet him by the field today.

San saw her that morning. She came by to find him early, to tell him her plans of leaving. She finished her studies in Sinsu, and it was time to return.

Great. He’ll take a horse too.

He woke up completely consumed by her: the silk of her hair, the curve of her smile, the mesmerizing effect of her words. He had fallen so deep. It was almost laughable, the way it was all he seemed to care about now.

San knew Wooyoung wanted him to stay, but Sena said...

She said not to tell anyone they were leaving. God, he was so dumb. Wooyoung was right: San was terrible at following orders.

With a shake of his head, he started heading to the field: he had wasted enough time.

The trek was eerily nostalgic, and something about this being the last time he’ll take this walk made him frown. He didn’t feel like he’d miss it; it was just a strange voice in the back of his head telling him it wouldn’t be bad if this wasn’t the last time.

Wow, his head was really screwed up. He kept thinking in circles, and that certainly wouldn’t accomplish anything. He frowned.

Sena was already there. She wore a pretty black dress, matching her hair and her jewelry. It was the first time San had seen her in completely dark colors, and his cheeks bloomed red. She really, really was stunning.

“Hi,” he brought a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle a smile that threatened to peek through. “You look nice.”

“As do you.” She grimaced and turned away, as if looking at San pained her. That wouldn’t do. Did he do something wrong? Oh god, it must be because he told Wooyoung they were leaving. She knew. That was so stupid. So goddamn stupid, but he was so excited, and it slipped out! He was used to telling Wooyoung things he was excited about.

The headache from last night was slowly returning, and his frown deepened. How could he make this up to her? Why the fuck did she look so sad?

“Sena?” He gently put a hand on her shoulder and turned her back around. “Is there something I can do? You look upset.” He pouted at her distraught eyes- clear, blue pools that made San melt. He tipped her chin and kissed her cheek, warmth filling him to combat the chilly air.

She broke away, hugging herself and biting her lip. Sena looked across the field, and under the sun, she was shining. Even in all black, she was the lightest thing there, softer than the petals that surrounded them. San wanted to cuddle her to death.

“I need to burn this field,” she said, and San’s brain short-circuited.

Burn the field?

He cocked his head, waiting for an explanation.

“I didn’t want to do it alone. It seemed.. close to you two,” she sighed, brows furrowed. “I’m so sorry it has to go.”

San didn’t know why she was sorry, but if she wanted it gone, then her wish was his command. He smiled and lifted a finger, a flame curling around it. He remembered the first time he saw this particular trick, when she showed to him at their first lesson.

It looked like it would be useful now.

“Do you want me to do it?” he asked, and her frown deepened.

But in the end, she turned away and nodded. “Go ahead.”

He let the flame circle down to his hand, building in his palm. He marveled at how natural this came to him. He had gotten used to it, yes, but at the same time, his own abilities still shocked a small part of him.

It was almost scary how good he was at magic.

His heart panged, though. It burned, and he frowned. The magic wrenched at him, chest tightening. It was confusing. This never happened before. His magic never made him.. Feel anything before. He gasped, the weight slowly crushing him, a vice around his heart and squeezing. He couldn’t breathe.

“What are you waiting for?” Sena turned back with narrowed eyes, and the flame disappeared.

“I-I’m sorry.” San clutched at his shoulder, his arm across his chest. “I don’t know what happened.” The pain subsided, and he marveled at how fast it left him.

She shook her head.

San swallowed, bringing the flame back to his hand. Damn, it hurt, but he ignored it, crouching down and bringing it down to the petals by his feet. Surprisingly, they lit easily, and it began to spread across the vines in a flash. San pulled Sena back and further up the hill, clear from the rapidly spreading flames.

The ache in his chest died away, but there was something else nagging in the back of his head, something wrong about this.

Sena had a smile on her face- a sad one, but a smile nonetheless. He tried to copy it, but it wouldn’t come.

The flickering flames cast an orange glow on her face. For the hundredth time, he was reminded of how pretty she was, how beautiful people could be.

Soon enough, the entire field was awash in red and black, charred remains and ashes littering the ground. Fires bloomed in place of blue, and San wondered if that was part of the magic, if the flames were lasting longer because of it. Sena walked away, black dress trailing behind her like the smoke she left in her wake. Even with his newfound infatuation, San didn’t follow. The field was more mesmerizing, more captivating at the moment.

He stood at the top of the hill, staring down.

God, Wooyoung was going to be so heartbroken. He loved this field, and San had just ruined it. San was suddenly glad he was leaving soon. He caused enough trouble for Wooyoung and the castle inhabitants.

It was hard to focus on Wooyoung. San felt hollow when he thought of him, and that alone.. It was so wrong. He knew in his head that Wooyoung was important to him. San nearly gave his life for that bastard, after all.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he feel anything?

He stared down at the flames, thoughts swirling in his head and an emptiness that only seemed to grow.

(。-`ω´-)

Wooyoung found Sena in one of the towers.

He tried to stay in his chambers, but he couldn’t take it. There, everywhere he looked, all he could see was San: by the table, in the mirror, in his fucking bed.

He needed to get away, and the only vacant place he could break down in without an audience was high up in the towers.

Apparently, he was wrong.

He had climbed the stairs by two, eager to get away from the halls of the main castle. He didn’t see her at first. She wore dark colors, blending into the dim corners of the small room.

They were at the highest point of the tower, where the stairs gave way to a small circular area. It used to be a guard’s post, but the windows were too small, and the room too isolated to properly raise alarm. It became a storage space instead, housing boxes with cobwebs sticking to their sides. The faint stench of rotten fruit invaded the space. No one ever came up here. Some day, he’d order a servant to clean it out, but for now, he was happy to keep it his little secret.

So much for that.

He would have to keep himself together for a little longer.

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes, taking in her dark attire and the jewelry, gleaming in the low light filtering through the windows.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, and she smiled.

“I could ask you the same.”

A faint black streak sat on her cheek, and the bottom hem of her dress was singed. He let her take so many liberties while she was there, but as it was now, Wooyoung finally had enough. “Why are you really here?” His voice was hoarse. “Drop the lies for once. I know you haven’t been talking with our scholars. Why are you still here?”

She glanced away, hands clutching at the sides of her dress. “Nothing that will.. directly hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Nothing that’ll hurt me? That’s bullshit!” He closed his eyes, face scrunching up. “What did.. what did you do to San?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why did he say he’s leaving? He wouldn’t… San wouldn’t.” Jesus christ, the tears were pricking at his eyes again. He needed to calm down, to stay composed.

Sena raised a brow. “He told you?”

Wooyoung shook his head, chest caving in from the pressure that had been building ever since those words left San’s lips. “Why are you taking him from me?”

“Wooyoung,” she sighed. “You’ve made it so fucking easy for me to carry out my orders.”

“Some orders are made to be broken.”

“It’s already too late.” She kicked the side of a box, and dust kicked up around it. “Magic demands a balance between life and death. You may not get it now, but by taking San… I’m finishing this kingdom for good.”

Wooyoung’s fists clenched. He would not let this happen. By the end of the day, he was putting her in the dungeons, just like his father told him to do if she acted suspicious. He could figure out what was going on with San then. Everything was going to be okay. Tomorrow, it’ll be back to normal. San will be his bubbly self again in Wooyoung’s chambers. He’ll look at him with that sparkle again, the stars back in his eyes. Wooyoung will fall asleep in San’s arms again, a steady heartbeat against his ear.

San will love him again.

Because that’s what it was, right? Even if it was only as a friend, San had to have feelings for him. Even platonic ones would do. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was.

“Unless you would rather me kill you, this is the only way. I’m sorry,” Sena was still talking over Wooyoung’s thoughts.

He shook his head. “Sena, this doesn’t need to end like this. We can come up with a solution.” He reached for his belt, movements slow, but his hand landed directly on his side, fingers scrambling at nothing.

The guards were too far away to call. He needed to get Sena into the dungeons somehow.

Did she know how to magic her way out? To manipulate locks?

She eyed the way Wooyoung held his hand over his belt and chuckled. “I don’t think a sword will be very effective against me, especially one made of air.”

She started walking to the door, and Wooyoung rushed to get ahead of her, to block it. He took a stance there, hands raised to form fists. Sena was an idiot if she thought Wooyoung would let her walk out after that conversation.

“I’m serious. There’s always a peaceful solution. Wasn’t that the whole point of your visit?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” She flicked her wrist, and Wooyoung hurtled to the side, crashing against the boxes on the floor. He hit his hip hard, and his hands burned as he tried to catch himself on the wooden crates, splinters inevitable.

He caught his breath, and wrenched to the side, hand outstretched, but she was already through the door. It clicked shut behind her, and through it, he heard her mutter a few words, along with a slight exclamation of surprise.

It shouldn’t have a lock, but fearing the worst, he lurched up and grabbed the circular handle, only to immediately yelp in pain. It was like touching a hot stone, his skin blistering where it made contact with the iron. The frustration and pain wrote itself on his face, and his eyes narrowed. Sena’s wasn’t in a hurry, her footsteps slapping against stairs, growing fainter by the second.

He rushed over to a window, placing his palm against the cool cross-hatched glass with a hiss. He knew the tower was too high to climb, but if only he could warn someone below. Dammit, he should have locked her up the moment King Sungho left the citadel. His hospitality was going to be the downfall of Sinsu if her words were to be taken seriously.

‘By taking San… I’m finishing this kingdom for good.’

What had she done? God, he was so stupid. His father said the Essetirians were here for war, and yet.. He gave them the benefit of the doubt.

Steeling himself, he was about to turn and kick down the door when he saw it: A darkened patch of black against Sinsu’s brilliant landscape, smoke still lingering in the air. He peered closer through the window, nose touching the glass, and his breath caught in his throat, stomach plummeting.

What the fuck was happening to him?

(。-`ω´-)

San did something he shouldn’t have.

His body was torn in two, one side completely devoted to Sena, lost in her words and her presence, but the other side hurt. And it was that deep, struggling, desperate part of him that made San do it.

Because now, he knew what Sena did to him. He saw it in the book the other day, and after returning to the castle, after spending time in the physician’s chambers, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, he figured it out. And he knew why Sena made him burn the field down too.

From there, that internal struggle was back. He hated her. God, he hated her.

But he loved her too, and he knew at her words, he would be powerless.

Even now, the guilt ate at him. If Sena found out what he had done, she would be livid. He felt like a dog on a leash, desperate to make his owner happy, and the weight of shame crushed him down into the stiff mattress- so different from where he had slept the past few nights.

Hongjoong was out again. He was being so secretive, and today, especially, his mood had been sour. When he saw San that morning, Hongjoong had asked him to apologize to Wooyoung. He told San to sort themselves out now because apparently Wooyoung would need it by tomorrow. Hongjoong’s eyes were so commanding, so violent.

But that was before Sena came by and told him they were leaving, and that side of him that thought he loved her came roaring out in agreement.

Now he knew better, but that didn’t stop the way his emotions twisted at the thought of her. He couldn’t describe it: the war that raged inside of him now-the softness that arose when he heard her voice, when he saw her, versus the knowledge that she used magic on him.

But how could it be fake when it felt so real?

A few hours after the field, after he planted something in Wooyoung’s rooms,, Sena came to see him again. She had walked in, eyes scanning the room in slight disdain, and she said there was a change in plans.

They were leaving now.

That was okay. He could leave. Everyone would be better off without him, Wooyoung especially.

Even if it was fake, at least he wasn’t hurting like when he loved Wooyoung. He would gladly take this over unrequited love any day.

He asked her where they were going, if they were making the trip straight to Essetir. His stomach dropped, hurtling straight through the floor at her answer.

And then, she said he had to get the horses ready by nightfall.

That gave him time to say goodbye.

(。-`ω´-)

The door opened, but Wooyoung didn’t flinch. He knew someone would walk in eventually, no matter how isolated the room may be. He sat behind one of the wooden crates, back to the wall and hidden from sight. Hopefully, this person would leave and never find the prince hiding in the room.

He didn’t even know the handle stopped burning hot. Looking back, he probably should have tested it earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up. He brought his knees closer to his chest, making himself smaller.

“Wooyoung?”

Scratch that, now he’d be happy to get up and run away.

“I couldn’t find you in your rooms, nor the kitchens or the council rooms. The knights haven’t seen you either. Yeosang too,” San’s voice paused. “I know you come up here when you’re upset. You can.. You can come out and talk to me.”

With a deep sigh, Wooyoung squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t talk to San like everything was normal yet. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t get their earlier conversation out of his head. He couldn’t get past the fact that San wanted to leave.

But San came to find him, didn’t he? He wasn’t out with Sena or packing his things. Maybe he finally came to his senses. A small hope wedged its way into his mind, and he poked his head over the box, staring up at San in the doorway.

His hair was mussed, and there were more streaks of soot on him than there were on Sena- on his hands, his arm, his chin… His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, cream shirt tucked in and unlaced at the top. Wooyoung’s bracelet was still around his wrist. He was a mess. A dorky, adorable mess.

But the soot.. San was at the field, most likely with Sena as well. They both set the fire.

What did that even accomplish for her? Was Sena’s goal only to bring Wooyoung pain? It definitely seemed like it.

San wasn’t smiling. His feet shifted against the floor, and he wrung his fingers out in front of him. He was tense, acting out the nervous ticks that were so unabashedly San. He wasn’t looking at Wooyoung either, eyes tracing the floor and following the lines of the stone. Wooyoung’s small hope vanished just as fast as it came.

Normally, he fine with showing weakness to San. In fact, San was the only person Wooyoung was comfortable enough to do it.

Now? He frowned as he stood, legs aching after being in one position for so long. He knew his face was tear stained, eyes red rimmed. But he felt slightly better now they were at eye-level.

This is what you did to me.

He swallowed, chest slowly tightening for the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours. San still wouldn’t catch his eye.

The door shut behind him.

“Sena did something to you,” Wooyoung said. “She all but admitted it to me.. You have to believe me.” His voice was scratchy, hoarse from the crying. It was unfamiliar- a foreign sound in the empty space of the room.

“I believe you.”

That hope picked up again, raising his spirits just a little bit.

“Y-You do?” Wooyoung stumbled closer until he was right in front of him, forcing San to look at him. “Are you still…”

Yes. Yes, he was. Wooyoung could see it in his eyes- the diluted pupils, the emptiness. It hurt to see, but Wooyoung couldn’t look away.

“Sire-”

“It’s always been Wooyoung,” he stressed. “Don’t call me that.” He took San’s hands and clasped them in his own. “Come on, I need you to snap out of it.”

San frowned. “Actually.. I came to say goodbye.”

Goodbye?

“This… this is a joke, right?”

San shook his head. “No, I’m readying the horses after this.”

He.. he couldn’t breathe. San was serious. Wooyoung may never see him again. And San.. he knew Sena was messing with him, but he still wanted to go with her. Where the hell did Wooyoung go wrong? Did.. did San hate him? Was that why… ?

He thought back to every interaction they had up to this point. The jokes, the banter, the near flirting. The soft moments came back, whispers of encouragement and endearment ghosting against his ears. Warm touches, both firm and gentle, were only memories now.

He thought back to the beginning. Harsh words filled his ears, jokes verging on the line of insults, a thin wrist bloomed with dark bruises shocking him back to his senses. He remembered that day the most, how he watched as San tried his best to hide them from him.

Back then, San thought he was arrogant. A twat. An ass. Wooyoung thought by now, they were past that- That San thought he was better. Wooyoung couldn’t.. He couldn’t..

Wooyoung’s face crumpled, and the tears came running down his face again, except now it was worse, because San was right in front of him, and Wooyoung loved him. And.. and San wasn’t.. He didn’t..

Wooyoung couldn’t think anymore. He sobbed, knowing he was letting San walk out of his life just like that. What could he do? San would hate him even more if he kept him there against his will. Wooyoung would hate himself for that.

Was there a way to make San stay? To show just how much Wooyoung needed him?

All his life, he wanted to be a good ruler, to be a good son. He was Sinsu’s only son. If he screwed up, people would doubt the line of succession. That meant no crying. That meant no attachments. He had to remember rank. He needed to be the prince his people deserved: stoic and elegant, strong and wise. He had to be perfect. He had lasted this long, but he couldn’t do it anymore.

“Please.”

San froze, his eyes growing wide, and finally Wooyoung thought he saw something there.

“You always wanted me to say it, to b-beg,” Wooyoung pulled San closer, letting go of his hands and instead balling them in San’s shirt. “Well, g-guess what?” He choked out words between cries. “You broke me.”

Usually, San’s arms would be around him by now, words cooed against his ear. He didn’t know if he was begging San to hug him or to stay. Probably both.

Wooyoung hid his face in the crook of San’s neck, forcing San to tilt his head to the side. It was familiar, warm. But at the same time, it felt so cold.

“Please, you can’t leave me,” he pleaded. Pathetic.

San tapped his shoulder, slightly awkward in the gesture. It was so different from anything Wooyoung was used to, and it hurt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” San said. “We’re leaving by nightfall.”

No.

Wooyoung pulled away to look at his face.

No matter how upset he was, just looking at San usually made him want to smile, but now…

Dammit, Wooyoung had imagined spending his life with San. He had dreams about it sometimes, of them growing old together.

His jaw locked up, and he closed his eyes, shutting it all out.

And finally, he felt fingers against his face, the back of San’s fingers brushing away the stray pieces of hair that stuck to his cheeks, wet from tears.

“I left something for you in the wardrobe,” San muttered. Wooyoung heard him audibly swallow. “And.. and don’t follow me this time, Young-ah.”

Fuck you.

He felt San pull away. Wooyoung didn’t have it in himself to look.

The door opened and closed with a click, and Wooyoung was alone again.

San was gone. Really, truly gone. Wooyoung remembered the looks he got on the way back to his chambers, but he couldn’t get himself to care. There were more important things than reputation. He was human too.

He wished it didn’t take San’s absence for him to fully realize that.

As he lay in bed that night, Hongjoong walked into Wooyoung’s rooms. His face was hard as stone, and his body stiff. Wooyoung had never seen him like this before, and he already knew something had happened.

“I need to tell you this before it gets out,” Hongjoong said. He sat on the edge of Wooyoung’s bed. “I’m sorry I kept it from you, but… your father asked me to.” Hongjoong’s shoulders were hunched, and there were heavy bags under his eyes that matched Wooyoung’s own. His hands were stained from working with poultices, and he had this frazzled energy about him- strong, but defeated.

“I can assure you, my day can’t get any worse,” Wooyoung mumbled. He turned on his side, facing Hongjoong. “Get it over with.”

Hongjoong sucked in a breath, and his hands were trembling. Wooyoung was tempted to hold them still.

“I…” Hongjoong bit his lip and turned away. His eyes shone in the dark. “I tried my best. And only me and a few guards knew, but..” He let out a groan of frustration. “But, I swear, he wouldn’t let me find outside help. Someone could have, but I.. I couldn’t.. ”

“Spit it out.”

Hongjoong gave Wooyoung a sad smile and put a light hand on his shoulder, but his expression slowly slipped into a grimace, his teeth clenched. The next words Wooyoung heard would change his life forever.

“Wooyoung.. the King is dead.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez #woosan #choi san #jung wooyoung #lyn-fanworks #fanfic #ao3 #kpop

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marauderswolf22 · 2 years

Text

wolfstar headcanons, but when they ill

im ill and wanted to comfort myself with this

-Sirius was ashamed of being sick. In his childhood, he always had to deal with it on his own, so he didn't see anything unusual about it. Sometimes he even thought he didn't deserve care or help when he wasn't the best version of himself. Covered with blankets with a runny nose, he did not feel like the pride of the Blacks. Whenever any of his friends at Hogwarts saw him coughing, with a red nose or a sore, they said it was nothing. He didn't even know what it was like to get custody. When they started dating Remus, the werewolf hit him even more carefully. His every smile and unusual movement was recorded in his head archive to be recognized again. Thus, in a short time, Remus realized when his boyfriend was weaker. His eyelids drooped slightly, and the blush covered his whole face and then disappeared. "Sirius love, are you okay?" you look a little weak. he asked once a few weeks after their first date. Sirius was afraid, the word "weak" made him shiver. Even more so when Remus, as usual, was in the right. However, this time Padfoot's disease was really wearing him down as a result of poor treatment earlier in the day. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore. -I think I'm sick Rem, I just want you to know. "But don't think Remus didn't do anything about it. He immediately took care of the warmth and comfort of his boyfriend. He loaded it with thermometers and tissues like an overprotective mother with too much free time. And when Remus had left for the hospital wing, Sirius was left alone with his gifts. Merlin, he loved it.

-Rarely, but still, there was a coincidence of their health problems. Most often it took place after parties, when in unexplained mysterious circumstances, they both got drunk into three merlins. They returned to the room, and both, differently, felt their intoxication. Sirius had a habit of throwing up, because while his head was unusually strong, unfortunately his stomach was not. Remus was the opposite. He could drink a whole barrel and pass out, but his stomach wouldn't budge. So Sirius, bent over the toilet seat, could only feel the whiskey, and Remus's hands entwining his hair. Once he had thrown away everything he had to, their roles switched. He gave Remus potions so that the next day he wouldn't be tortured with a hangover. Then, they just rolled over uncontrollably and landed on one of the beds. They did it out of habit, knowing each other even when their minds couldn't comprehend what was going on. The next day, they usually didn't remember anything, so they never noticed what they had in common, not remembering anything from what you just read.

-Whenever he was sick, Remus had more trouble sleeping than usual. His head ached as if he had fallen from an astronomy tower, and his hell felt like a blazing fireplace. He also hated that for these reasons he was unable to read. But Sirius wanted to make it up to him. He took Moony's pick book, and read it to the chapter where he left off. Usually Remus would fall asleep and they had to read everything from the middle, but it made them feel better.

ps: it was supposed to be shorter I swear

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derpinathebrave · 2 years

Text

Goin' To The Chapel Part 2 - IceMav

READ ON AO3

So, uh, @pollyna gave me brainworms like 2 weeks ago. And I wrote And We'll Never Be Lonely Anymore. And then @topgunruinedme suggested a Maverick and Goose perspective and I could not pass up the opportunity for the chaos that is Pete Maverick Mitchell. And then I wrote 15500 words. I regret nothing.

I've split this into 2 parts because I feel 15k is a little much.

SUMMARY: Mav and Goose decide they need a Vegas weekend between saving Cougar, sighting a MiG and now being sent to Top Gun. So when Mav wakes up with a wedding ring and not many memories of who exactly he married… well, it's probably fine, right?

TAGS: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Carole Bradshaw, Rick "Hollywood" Neven, Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe, Sam "Merlin" Wells, Waking Up Married in Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, drunk wedding, we got 99 problems but homophobia aint one, Angst with a Happy Ending, pete maverick mitchell is lonely, Toxic Relationship, brief charlie and mav toxicity, Dead Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Grief/Mourning, Mentions of Sexual Acts, No DADT, No Homophobia, no beta we die like goose

WORDS: 15,575

PART1 - PART2

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

As far as making a mess of his life, Pete Mitchell would rate himself at four out of five stars. He stared up at the ceiling of Charlie’s room, mind rolling slowly through the fucked up choices he had made in the last twenty four hours alone.

Fucked up choice number one: leaving Hollywood to go after Viper. He had known it was a dick-move. He had known it wasn’t what he was supposed to do. But he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help the small whispering voice in his mind that told him “it’s fine, no one would ever stand by you, why should you stand by them”. He had lived his entire career as Duke Mitchell’s kid and all of the bullshit that had come with it. Including constantly being ostracised by other aviators. Not even Goose could talk him out of that one, as hard as his RIO had tried.

Fucked up choice number two: letting Tom “Iceman” Kazansky talk to him like that. It would have been so much easier to just fist-fight him in the locker room than listen to the patient but exasperated way Iceman spoke to him. It would have been better to walk away and not listen to him at all. Because in that moment Maverick had made an awful connection in his mind. The calm, patient tone was eerily familiar to him. It almost sounded like a voice from his dreams. It was comforting and chastising in one. It made his hair stand on end and his stomach drop a little. Maverick couldn’t bare to look at Ice, because he knew in that moment he had a strange flare of attraction and he absolutely, under no circumstances, was allowed to feel anything other than irritation and dislike of perfect Tom Kazansky. And then he’d watched Ice walk away in nothing but a towel and the attraction hit him hard anyway.

Fucked up choice number three: taking the first two fucked up choices and using them to justify sleeping with Charlie again. He had sought her out this time. Following her home on his bike knowing exactly where they’d both end up. It had calmed his crazed thoughts for a while, sure, but now he was in Charlie’s bed again.

He was laying staring at the ceiling thinking about Tom Kazansky’s tanned skin dripping from the shower. He was thinking about the ultimate trust he had seen in Goose’s eyes as he promised to be better for the hundredth time. He was thinking about Jester telling him to “never, ever leave your wingman”. He was thinking about his father, whether Duke Mitchell ever left his wingman. He was laying with a naked woman asleep on his chest and she didn’t even rate a passing thought.

“What are you thinking?” Charlie muttered against his skin, clearly not as asleep as he thought.

“That I need to get back to base,” Mav lied.

“Mm,” she rolled away and frowned at him. “Are you ever going to stay the night?”

Maverick frowned right back. “You know I can’t,” he said, irritation leaking into his tone.

“Uh-huh,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Because you’re always so concerned about the rules.”

He might have shaken it off if he wasn’t already wound tight enough to snap. Instead he climbed out of the bed and began pulling on his clothes.

“Come on, Charlie,” he snapped. “You know I can’t spend a night off-base. And you already said you’re not supposed to date me, anyway.”

She sat up, covering herself with the sheet. “Jeeze, Mav, you really know how to make a woman feel wanted.” Her eyes were cold, even in the dim light.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Internally Maverick stomped down on the part of him that watched on with disgust.

“Not for very much longer, apparently.” Charlie pointed at the door. “Go on, get out.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, stomping out the back door and letting it slam in the quiet night. He paused at his bike and dragged his boots on, having walked out with them in hand. With that done, he revved the engine and took off into the darkness. Maverick revelled in the icy wind against his cheeks and the way it seemed to strip all thoughts from his head.

===

Things fell into a pattern from there. For the first time since he’d joined the Navy and had to endure training, Maverick bent himself to the task of curbing his impulses. He worked hard at refuting the small, nasty voice telling him to only look out for himself.

Instead, embarrassingly, Iceman’s calm voice asking him “Who’s side are you really on?” would echo back against it. That calm question of where his loyalty should lie worked wonders. His body still itched to do stupid things, but there was “stupid leaving your teammates to die” and there was “stupid ballsy stunt flying”. Maverick felt more than a little pleased with himself that he was finally able to draw the line between the two.

Their points racked up, shooting him and Goose to second place and snapping at Ice and Slider’s heels.

The other pilots seemed to forgive him for his boneheaded stunts easily enough as well. Maverick had always been charismatic enough to get away with murder, and he found he enjoyed the attention more when it wasn’t paired with glares and muttered curses. Even Iceman himself seemed to soften off a little, a little frost melting away.

The only part of the pattern that Mav couldn’t get a handle on was Charlie. Charlotte Blackwood always got what she wanted. For some reason, she wanted Maverick. They had made up the day after he stormed out in the night, Charlie smiling and bringing him a coffee after lunch to chat.

Two days later they had argued again, this time Charlie stalking away with her heels clicking sharply. Maverick had watched her go a strange mix of relief and anger. Possessed by some weird sense of fairness, Maverick had made an effort to reconcile.

And around and around they went.

===

“Hey, Mav?” Goose said as they wandered back to the hangar after another hop.

“Yes, Goose?” Maverick’s mind was on the last manoeuvre he had watched Viper pull, wondering if he could achieve it in his bulky F14.

“Does Charlie know you’re married?” Goose’s words slapped him dead in the face, leaving Maverick stuttering to a stop on the tarmac.

“What?” He said, whipping his head around to make sure the other aviators were well out of earshot, not hard with the never-ending roar of engines.

“I mean, is that why she’s always so torqued with you?” Goose shrugged one shoulder, the picture of reluctant curiosity.

Mav sighed, tipping his head back and watching an F5 scream by. When he looked back, Goose was still waiting for an answer, sympathy in his eyes.

“No, she doesn’t know,” Mav said. They carried on toward the hangar. “I haven’t told her. I kind of keep meaning to, but…”

He left the word hanging, unsure how to admit it without sounding like a dick.

“But there’s always something else to argue about first?” Goose asked, voice now laced with sympathy.

Maverick gave a short nod. He gripped the helmet in his hand so tight he thought it might crack. He knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but something in the way Charlie laid on the attention and affection always got to him. He would promise himself it was the last time and then she would be back with her smiles and bedroom eyes and… He would fall right back in with her.

“You know—“ Goose began but a shout from the hangar caught their attention and Jester waved them over impatiently.

They both picked up their pace, double-timing to the debrief they were clearly late for. Whatever Goose thought he should know would have to wait.

===

“You have no idea what it’s like!” Maverick shouted. Charlie was the only person in the whole universe that made him shout this much.

“Oh! Right!” She shouted right back, face twisting with anger. “Because I don’t have a damn joystick between my legs, I don’t get an opinion!”

Maverick growled with frustration, shoving his hands into his hair. “You know that’s not what this is about! This is about piloting, not about being a woman!”

“I’ve been doing this job eighteen months now, Mav,” she spat his name like a curse, “I think I have an idea of exactly what you meant.”

He closed his eyes, praying for patience and presence of mind. It worked for a brief second and he realised that arguing wasn’t the answer. Maverick turned on a heel and pushed out Charlie’s door into the rain.

“Where are you going!?” She yelled after him.

He didn’t bother with a reply, merely climbing onto the wet seat of his wet bike and shooting away from the curb.

He was saturated in moments, the rain falling heavy and fast. Only his glasses kept it out of his eyes enough to see where he was going. The drops pelted his face, freezing and stinging his skin until he couldn’t feel anything else. As he rode, the anger rose in waves of fire before being drowned in the rain once more as he twisted the throttle and pushed faster into the freezing water.

Maverick knew he couldn’t keep it up. He couldn’t walk the same circle around the flames with Charlie. One day soon they were going to fall into the fire and neither would come out unharmed. He had to stop. It had to stop.

The thought was terrifying. The idea of pushing back against that intoxicating attention was almost unthinkable. Pete had spent his life chasing it and now he had it he wanted to give it up?

The small Goose that lived rent-free in his head sighed and folded its arms. Pete turned his attention to the sprite, ready for anything that could help.

“This isn’t it,” was all the Goose said.

Pete knew it. He knew this wasn’t it. He had known from that first date at Charlie’s house that this wasn’t it.

But he was so desperately lonely. Some days he feared his body would split open with the aching of it. He felt that his chest would cave if a single person truly touched him because it was brittle veneer over a gaping abyss of loneliness.

With a long, slow sigh, Pete pulled over and stopped. His body was shaking with chills, his hands struggling to open from their grip on the handlebars. He sat back and let the rain fall on his face for a while.

Loneliness was not a good enough reason to hurt like this. Enough was enough.

With a nod to himself, resolve settling into his gut at last, Pete gripped his bike once more. He tossed his head to check for oncoming traffic but found himself stuck in place. No longer frozen by the rain, but held in place by the comical sight in the lot across the street. The one and only Iceman was leaning on the opened hood of his vehicle.

Maverick toyed with the idea of leaving him there. It passed quickly. That same old voice of Iceman asking who’s side he was on making him turn his bike and dart across the road to the parking lot of a diner. He parked up a few spaces away.

By the time he got to Iceman, he was reconnecting the battery.

“Need some help there, Iceman?” Maverick revelled just a little in the situation.

“Mav-rick,” Iceman said, spitting out the last syllable in a similar way to Charlie. “What, no Charlie date today?”

It should have pissed him off. It should have ground salt into his freshly opened wound. Except Maverick was too damn excited to see Iceman upset by something. The ever-serene Tom Kazansky was pissed off enough to make a shitty comment to him.

Maverick grinned broadly and flipped his dripping hair off his forehead.

“Seemed like a nice day for a ride,” Mav said.

Another thrill of delight shot through him as Ice’s face fell into open shock.

“You’re genuinely insane,” Ice said, shaking his head.

Mav wasn’t sure he was that far off the truth. He shrugged. “And you appear to be genuinely broken down. Do you actually need help?”

He waited, watching with fascination as emotion passed over Iceman like clouds. Now he was up close and not seething in a fit of rage at every word, Maverick could see the work in Iceman’s eyes as he attempted to reign everything in.

Mav rolled his eyes, too impatient to wait on the other man’s ego, he stepped around Ice and climbed into the Jeep. He turned the key, listening to the tell-tale clicking of a dead starter solenoid.

“Sounds like your starter,” he announced, returning to the front of the car to find Ice hadn’t moved a muscle.

Careful off the slippery paint, Maverick climbed onto the front of the Jeep. He cursed his short legs as his jacket rode up and cold drips trickled down his bare back. He checked to make sure the solenoid was attached properly and not just loose. Satisfied it was truly broken, he fixed the year and model number into his brain.

“How badly do you need this running?” Mav turned back to see Iceman staring off into the middle-distance.

Ice swung back to face him, a flicker of shock hitting his eyes before it was gone.

“Uh, I mean, I need it to get back on base at least,” Ice said robotically.

“Well, I could get you back on base.” Maverick slapped the Jeep affectionately. “But your Jeep isn’t going anywhere without a new starter solenoid. I can fix it, but not in the rain.”

“You’d fix it?” Ice sneered.

Mav scoffed and looked away. He had been wondering how long Tom Kazansky could stand being decent before his urge to be the biggest dick around reared it’s head again. He turned back to Iceman, his own sneer in place.

“I mean if you want to walk back to base in the rain, Ice, you go right ahead,” Mav said. “If you want to pay a mechanic to fix it and have your car in the shop for the next week while they piss around on an easy job, you do that. I’ll see ya around.”

Maverick turned on his heel and marched off, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket as he went. He couldn’t figure out what made him even stop to help in the first place. Maybe he had felt like he owed Iceman for all the times he had inadvertently stopped Maverick doing something batshit crazy in the air the last few hops. Maybe he just wanted to do a good deed.

“Mitchell! Wait!” Ice’s voice cut through his internal ponderings.

Pete paused, sighing at his own idiocy as he waited.

“Look—” Ice appeared in front of him, hands spread out by his sides, “— I’m not having the best day here. If you can help, I’d appreciate it.”

He looked so open and defenceless for once that Pete couldn't help but be a little startled by it. The cold detachment was nowhere to be seen. He felt he was actually seeing Tom. Not Iceman, not Lieutenant Kazansky, just Tom, honestly asking for help.

Maverick was still Maverick though, he raised his eyebrows, waiting for the apology he deserved. And also just to see if he could push Tom’s buttons as much as he could push Iceman’s.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” Tom sighed.

“Good.” Mav laughed, pleased with himself. “Go grab what you need, lock it up and we’ll head back to the base. I’ll bring my bike over.”

Ice gave him a nod and walked off. Maverick watched him for a moment, an odd sense of affection fluttering in his chest. He shook it off and went to get his bike.

===

Iceman was not so cool and collected on the back of a Kawasaki going 35 miles per hour in the rain. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh as the bigger pilot clung to him for dear life. He was like a wall of body heat and muscle behind Mav. It was a little unsettling to feel someone so large on his bike with him. He rode slow, slower than usual at the very least, negotiating turns carefully as Ice wasn’t used to leaning with the bike.

When they pulled into a park on the base, Iceman swung himself off immediately. Mav laughed a little at the fierce scowl Tom wore. Maverick tossed his fringe off his face, unable to feel his cheeks again from the short ride.

“Christ, you enjoy this?” Iceman asked as they started toward the quarters.

“Not such a fan of the cold, Iceman?” Mav teased with an easy smile.

“Not really. Or the damp,” Ice said.

They walked in silence for a few metres.

“Sometimes you just need to shock your system, y’know?” Maverick said, voice quiet. “Really just do something that resets everything. Clean slate.”

Maverick wasn’t sure why he had said it. The words had slipped out before he could stop them. Now he was back at the base, the afternoon was catching up to him a little. He cleared his throat and carried on through the awkwardness.

“Anyway, I’ll grab the part we need for your Jeep and we can head down tomorrow after end-of-day to fix it. It won’t take too long, just too slippery and miserable to do in this.” Maverick gestured to the sky.

“Uh, sure,” Ice said. “Thanks, Maverick. Really.”

“Don’t mention it, Ice,” Mav gave him one last friendly grin. He turned away and went in search of Goose. He desperately needed to talk to his RIO about Charlie, and maybe even about Tom Kazansky for that matter.

===

“Hey, Mav,” Goose called, pushing into Pete’s room without waiting for a reply. “Oh good you’re already dressed. Bradley wants you to come play ball with us, so we’ll see you down at the beach in twenty.”

“Man, I can’t,” Mav said, voice apologetic. He hated letting Bradley down but he did tell Ice they’d fix his Jeep.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Goose’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me Charlie—”

“What? No.” Maverick shook his head violently. “No. I just… yesterday I ran into Iceman, his car was broken down and I said I’d help him fix it.”

There was a protracted silence, Goose’s eyebrows were yet to come down. He stared at Maverick, mouth hanging open a little.

“I’m just doing a good deed, OK?” Mav said.

“For Ice?” Goose clarified. His jaw finally closing and eyes turning shrewd.

“What can I say, I’m a good person.” Maverick shrugged, trying not to squirm beneath Goose’s stare.

“Well, OK, Mav,” he said in his long-suffering tone. “At least make it to dinner, will you?”

“I’ll be there,” Mav agreed, willing the heat in his neck to recede before it reached his cheeks. He clapped Goose on the shoulder and moved past him into the hall. A small, Goose-sounding voice in his head accused him of running away and Maverick ignored it as well.

===

It shouldn’t have been shocking that Iceman had more than two emotions (pissed off or disinterested) but Maverick found it startling just the same. They cruised along on his bike. Ice was clinging less in the sunny weather, and actually gave a huff of laughter as Maverick took a corner a little quicker than he needed to.

When they climbed off beside the lonely Jeep Maverick found the other man actually smiling. He couldn’t help but smile back, a bubbling feeling of victory in his stomach at the sight.

“See, it’s fun right?” Mav said.

“Sure, Mitchell, it’s fun,” Ice rolled his eyes but there was a smile still tugging on the corners of his lips.

“You should try it at a hundred miles per hour,” Mav winked, “there’s nothing like it except flying.”

“With the way you fly? No way.” And then The Iceman actually laughed.

Maverick laughed along with him, a weird sensation building in the back of his neck. Something about that laugh tickled at his brain. He turned away to retrieve the tools from under his bike seat, mind working furiously.

“I’m an excellent pilot, Ice,” Mav argued just to be contrary. “It’s not my fault the US Navy can’t keep up.”

Ice laughed again, this time far more sardonically, but the same familiar feeling hit Maverick once more. This time a memory rode along with it.

Club lights were swirling, synthesizer music pulsing against his chest, the man he had pressed up against the wall was laughing into his ear.

Maverick’s blood went cold. Then hot.

This couldn’t be real. That had to be some quirk of his fried brain. There was no way they were the same laugh.

He picked up his tools and the spare solenoid. No, he refused to believe it.

And yet as he turned to look at Iceman, that thrill of familiarity he had felt so many weeks ago hit him once more.

Maverick pasted a blank smile on his face and climbed onto the engine of the Jeep. He definitely wasn’t going to think about that right now. He was going to get this job done fast and get the hell out of here.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” Ice asked, coming around to lean on the Jeep and watching Maverick with his too-blue eyes.

Mav wished he wouldn’t look at him. He could feel Ice’s eyes roaming his body and more fuzzy memories rolled into his brain; memories of being felt up in a club bathroom.

“My second foster home,” Mav said, too distracted to lie. He kept his eyes focused down on the engine. “They were decent enough. Owned a mechanic shop. I helped out after school and on the weekend.”

They were some of the best memories he had. His foster dad, Gerald, had taught him the ins and outs of motors. They would always have the radio tuned to the rock and roll station. It was where Mav learned all his cuss words and what exactly a pin-up looked like.

He was so lost in the reminiscence that he forgot Ice was there until a short “Oh,” brought him back to the present. He could hear the strain of someone that didn’t know quite what to say in that “oh”. He had heard it many times over his lifetime. Maverick extracted the solenoid and tossed it at Ice, breaking the other man’s awkward stance.

“Don’t worry about it, Kazansky,” Maverick said, giving him a smile. “You know my dad was KIA, my mum died not too long after. So there wasn’t anywhere else for me to go.” He gave a shrug, preparing for the typical responses he got.

“I’m sorry,” Ice’s voice was so earnest that Mav found it slipped under his guard and hit his chest harder than usual.

He hadn’t thought he would ever hear Ice say something that honest and sincere to him, let alone an apology.

“I said don’t worry about it,” Pete said, ignoring the rushing of blood through his heart that threatened to overwhelm him. “Pass me that new solenoid, would you?”

He needed to get this finished. Fast. He couldn’t stand another moment with this weird, kind, compassionate Tomas Kazansky. It was doing strange things to his brain and body.

“I was with them for three years,” Pete said when Ice didn’t change the subject. “It was shit when I had to go. But they had another bio-kid and the State wouldn’t let them keep me.”

There was no reaction. Iceman didn’t move an inch.

“I went to a new place, they were horrible.” Flickers of memories threatened but Maverick pushed on, focused on the work he was doing with his hands more than the story. “Ran away for a while. Had about a week on the streets.” Pete peeked to watch Iceman’s face flicker with shock and dismay before the mask returned. “State put me back with a new family. They were bearable.” And they had been. Easy enough to finish off his high-school with them. “Stayed there until I could enlist. And now I’m here, about to win that Top Gun trophy and be the best.” He tacked the last part on in an effort to break Ice’s stiff posture. The other man was frozen with his arms crossed and jaw clenched as he listened to the story.

Later, Maverick would wonder why he had said it all. He didn’t really like to offer up his life story to just anyone. Heck, Charlie didn’t know half of the stuff he’d just forced Ice to listen to. The moment had just felt right. The fact that Pete was suspecting Ice was his mystery husband, the way that Ice had let himself open up with Pete that afternoon, even just a little.

Maybe he just wanted Tom Kazansky to stop thinking he was just an irresponsible child; that Pete Mitchell had a life and a story and there was more to him than being “dangerous, unsafe and everyone’s problem”.

“Keep dreaming, Mitchell,” Ice said the snark in his tone softer than usual. Pete glanced over to see that Ice’s eyes were shining with mirth. With his arms loose across his chest now and the last of the sunset colouring his blond hair golden. Ice was drop-dead gorgeous.

Maverick laughed. If they were married, he was going to have to insist on consummating it before he gave Ice a divorce.

As though he could hear Mav’s thoughts, Ice shook his head with mock exasperation.

“So.” Mav leapt back down to the pavement. “I think that’s good to go. Try turning it over.”

He shoved his tools into his back pocket, waiting to hear the engine turn over. It fired and hummed, sounding perfectly healthy once more.

Maverick felt his blood rise again as Ice shot him a genuine smile from the drivers seat. He looked down at his grubby hands and began wiping them with a rag. He could not have Tom look at him like that again, it was doing awful things to his emotions.

“Thanks, Mav,” Ice said, holding his hand out to shake.

Maverick took it, feeling the callouses and surprised at how large Ice’s hands were.

“No problem, Ice,” he said, realising this was probably the first time Tom had used his nickname.

“You want some cheese fries?” Ice said, his eyes flickering with panic before they shuttered back to neutral.

Pete’s heart exploded. He had a vague realisation that Charlie never made him feel like this. How did Tom have such easy access to his nervous system? The memory of laughter shifted in Mav’s brain.

“Well, I would,” he chuckled through the pain of how honest he was being, “but I got a better offer. I gotta go meet Goose and Carole for dinner.”

Iceman merely nodded. Maverick could see Tom receding back behind his persona again.

“See ya ‘round, Iceman,” Pete said, mostly to needle at him and see the flashes of genuine emotion he could now recognise.

“Sure, sure,” Ice drawled, a smile leaking through in his voice.

Maverick turned and wandered away, tossing the busted solenoid into the air and catching it with ease. How much damage one little broken solenoid had caused to his life. He tossed it into the cavity beneath his seat with a smile.

===

The first hour he had clutched Nick to his chest and begged for him to open his eyes.

The second hour he had begged the sky to take him instead, give his brother back and take him instead.

The third hour he had listened to the idle talk of doctors and officers without hearing anything.

The fourth hour he realised he was laying in a bed, staring at a ceiling he didn’t recognise.

The fifth hour he cried.

It didn’t stop. He sobbed and sobbed, the abyss in his chest busted open and dragging him into it. His throat was raw, his body shaking in silent sobs and eyes stinging but no tears were left to fall.

He couldn’t have said how long Carole had been holding him, her own tears slipping through his hair as they rocked together on his hospital bed. Maverick came back to himself and found them like that. He found Bradley curled up asleep on a trundle bed in the room, hand clutching his toy plane tight even in sleep. The same way Maverick had clutched Goose in that frigid ocean.

He clung to Carole, fresh tears falling. He was astounded he had any left.

Around midnight they both sat still and silent. The noise of the hospital moved on around them but Carole and Pete sat together on his bed, clinging like children in the dark.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice was a grated sound.

“No.” Hers was no better. “No, Pete, don’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t hold the words back.

“I know.” Carole pressed a kiss to his temple. “I know.”

“What are we gonna do without him?” Pete asked, voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” she gave a small sob.

Pete clung harder. The yawning abyss swallowed him whole.

===

He was discharged in the morning. “No outstanding injuries” the doctor had told him. Pete disagreed, the tearing pain in his entire soul definitely felt like an outstanding injury. Instead he simply nodded and headed back to quarters.

As he passed by a window he noticed his stubble had grown in and his hair was a mess. The routine of showering and shaving settled him infinitesimally, bringing some sense of normal back. Then he cried all over again because clearly life went on even without Goose and the pain of that thought was fresh and sharp.

Viper found him there, leaning on the sink, staring at his whiskers and trying to breathe again.

He said things about the pain of losing someone. That he would get used to it. That he would get over it.

“You have to let him go.”

Maverick’s vision went blurry and he realised he was holding his breath. He only let it go as Viper patted his shoulder and left once more.

How did you let go of someone that was one half of you? Pete stared at his red eyes in the mirror, the pain flaring once more. He had let Goose go, the jagged wound inside him was proof enough of that.

===

He moved like a zombie. Charlie came and went, saying words as she always did. Carole came and collected Goose’s things, pressing the dogtags into Maverick’s palm before she left to organise a funeral. Maverick sat on the floor of the lounge with Bradley in his lap.

The pair of them stared vacantly at the cartoons on the TV. Bradley’s head was heavy against Mav’s collarbone. He still clutched his toy plane in one hand, the other holding on to Pete tightly. He smelt so familiar, the weight and warmth of him soothing the empty pain in Mav’s chest a little.

“Where’s dad?” Bradley said, voice quiet.

“He’s gone,” Pete whispered, fresh tears already brewing. “He’s gone, buddy.”

“Will he come back?”

“No, Bradley.” Pete took a shuddering breath. “He can’t come back this time.”

“Will you go too, Uncle Mav?” Bradley turned to look up at him, his eyes confused and searching Pete’s face for comfort. “You and daddy go everywhere together.”

The tears spilled over, Pete clutching Bradley to his chest tight and rocking a little.

“No, Gosling,” Pete gasped through the pain. “I can’t go with him this time. I’ll stay here with you.”

There was a beat before Bradley spoke again. ��I don’t want daddy to be lonely. But I’m glad you’re staying.”

Pete clung to the little boy, feeling the words settle into his chest. They soothed and stabbed at him simultaneously.

===

The memorial was a blur. The grim faces, condolences and heavy grief washed over him relentlessly. He ached to leave but knew he had to stay. He held Bradley close and kissed Carole’s cheek in farewell as they left.

Maverick seemed to come back to himself alone in his room. He was truly alone. No more doctors, no more Carole, no more Bradley. Just Pete Mitchell and his loneliness.

He stared around at the room. Nothing but his bed, his desk and the small wireless radio Goose had given him two weeks into their stay. Mav crossed to the wireless and flicked it on, searching channels until he settled on an oldies station. It was late enough that there was little talking from the DJ and mostly just endless music.

Standing at the desk, letting the soulful sounds of Etta James crash against him, Maverick pulled the desk drawer open. The silver wedding band was right where he had left it. He scooped it out of the drawer and slid it onto his finger.

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Goose about his revelation in the parking lot. They had gone to dinner and talked about Charlie, they had sung Great Balls of Fire and then Carole had demanded time with Nick.

Maverick folded himself onto the floor. He pulled the ring off and stared at it. There were so many things he needed to say to Goose. So much that had happened and would happen, things Maverick wanted to share with him and never could again.

Things that Maverick was now destined to live alone with.

The music changed, the first few notes of Otis Redding poking at Pete’s tender heart. He looked at the radio, contemplating smashing it it pieces. And then the lyrics started and for the first time in his life, Pete Mitchell understood his mother.

He laid his head back on the bed behind him and felt the words pour into his chest.

The song ended, the DJ coming back on to talk about something inane. Maverick opened his hands to find he had been crushing the ring into his palm.

Amazed at how his brain worked, Pete suddenly realised that if Iceman was his husband, he couldn’t possibly know it. He realised that if anyone had the papers from the marriage it must be Pete himself.

Aware that he was merely distracting himself from the grief, Pete dragged his bag out from beneath the bed. He dug around the bottom with one hand, moving discarded socks out of the way until his fingers found paper. He pulled the page out, still folded in eighths but also twisted and crushed from the travel.

He untwisted it, opening it slowly as his heart thumped. It was flowery and ornamental.

Certificate of Marriage This is to certify that Peter Maverick Mitchell and Tomas Iceman Kazansky were united in marriage.

Maverick stared. Slowly, he noticed there was a wet spot on the page and brushed it away. It took another moment for him to realise it was a tear.

There was his scrawling writing for his name and his callsign. And the bold, slanting letters of Iceman’s hand for his.

“Fucking hell,” he said to the empty room. “Fucking hell, Goose, it’s really him.” He gave a weak, wet laugh. “I hope wherever you are you can see this. I hope you’re laughing your ass off.”

And then clear as a bell, Mav heard Goose’s voice again. “See, Mav, you still have family.”

Maverick sniffed and closed his eyes. Listening for more but the voice was gone, the memory fading already. Calm settled over him as he waited to hear Goose again.

Holding the certificate in one hand, the ring in the other, Maverick slipped into a deep sleep on the floor.

===

10.

When he woke that morning the calm was replaced by a deep ache in his back. He was too old and too sober to sleep on the floor. The day descended into hell from there.

Carole was gone. He was cleared of any guilt and sent back out to fly that day’s hops.

His hands shook. His lungs weren’t working. It was all he could do to keep his mask on and not throw up. Sundown was yelling something from the backseat but all Pete could hear was the crunching sound of Goose hitting the canopy.

He stared at the wall of the bathroom without seeing anything except Goose’s bloody face and green dye in the ocean.

The next hop was worse. He began to go hypoxic within minutes and had to land before he blacked out. Wolfman had been up with him, filling in for the hop as his RIO now that Maverick didn’t have one. He stayed quiet, only speaking to tell Mav to bring it back down steady.

Maverick knew Wolf followed him to his quarters but the RIO stayed silent, watching him pack. Beyond that, Maverick lost track. He hustled to the locker room to grab the last of his things. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t stand to listen to the roar of jets or be surrounded by the memories of how he used to fly as easy as breathing. Now he couldn’t even breathe while he flew.

It was just his luck that as he was emptying his locker, Iceman found him.

“Mitchell,” Ice said.

Pete froze. The reality of their relationship crushing down on him.

“I’m sorry about Goose.”

Maverick couldn’t move. He knew if he turned around he would throw himself at Ice and beg him not to leave.

“Everybody liked him.”

Silently, eyes closed against the room, Pete Mitchell begged Tom to say it. To admit he knew they were married. To offer to be what he had lost. To say he’d stay even if they hated each other.

“I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched.

Pete grabbed his bag and walked out, letting his heart rip out his back as he did. What was one more lost piece now?

===

Maverick wasn’t sure where he was going anymore. He pushed his Kawasaki down a long empty road, letting the noise of the wind drown out Charlie’s nasty words.

He knew what she was doing. She was trying, in a fucked up way, to motivate him back into flying. He growled along with the engine of his bike. She needed therapy.

The thought made him laugh, a ragged harsh noise. He needed therapy too.

He was a husk clinging to the world. There was nothing left of him that made up Maverick. He had lost Goose. He had lost his ability to fly. He lost the Navy. He was nothing anymore. He was no one.

As he pushed the bike faster approaching 100 miles per hour, a memory hit him.

He was suddenly in that parking lot teasing Iceman about going 100 miles per hour. He had said it felt like flying.

And it did. He realised with a shock that the adrenaline rushing through him was familiar. His lungs were working hard but only with the force of the wind against him. He was still breathing.

He was still alive.

Maverick lifted off the throttle. He let the bike slow back to a reasonable 90.

If he was still alive then he could still fly. He knew that deep in his tattered soul. With the realisation a piece of him seemed to settle back into place. He had promised Bradley he would stay. Carole had told him to keep flying.

Maverick cursed and rolled the bike to a stop on the side of the road. He turned around, knowing where he was going for the first time in a week.

===

The day was too bright. The sun making their dress whites shine with glare. He hadn’t known where his hat was, he didn’t particularly care. He was late and he didn’t particularly care about that either. He was here. He was alive. That was enough.

Steeling himself, Maverick shuffled through the press of people to where Iceman and Slider were grinning like fools at their win. It sent a weird sense of happiness and bitterness through Mav. It could have been him, it should have been him, but he found he didn’t really care anymore.

He held his hand out, ignoring the way Ice searched his face.

“Congratulations,” Pete said, and meant it.

“Thank you.” Iceman looked like he wanted to say something else but after a second it disappeared and Pete pulled back into the crush of bodies.

He moved through to where Hollywood and Wolf were standing, drinking already.

“Wolfman,” Pete said, raising a hand in greeting. “I just wanted to say thanks.” He held his hand out once more.

Wolf gave him a smile, smacked the hand aside and drew Maverick into a crushing hug.

“Don’t mention it, Mav,” Wolf said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s get you a drink.”

He began to protest but found his voice had gone hoarse, throat constricting with emotion.

“Glad you’re here, Mav,” Chipper slapped his back as he went by.

All Maverick could do was nod in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Mav!” Sundown cried and made a beeline for them through the crowds. “Was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

Maverick gave a weak laugh and nodded. “I almost didn’t. No fucking idea where my hat is,” he said, making the others laugh.

“Surprised they found one that fits that big head of yours,” Hollywood teased.

And just like that, he was home again. The grief burned deep in his gut but Mav found another piece he thought he had lost falling back into place.

===

The orders were short and sharp. They were to ship out to the Enterprise within the hour. Maverick ground his teeth together. Life just wouldn’t give him a break.

Two steps forward and one step back. He found he wanted to stay and then life shoved him straight into the deep end once again. With a groan, Maverick knew he still had one more thing to do. He collected the ring and certificate from his bag and walked the short hall to Tom’s room.

His heart was in his throat as he knocked. He couldn’t feel his fingers. His lips appeared to be tingling in the way they did when Stinger was on a tear at him for some bullshit he’d pulled.

The door opened. Iceman’s face dropped into surprise and stayed there.

“Mitchell,” Ice said.

“I need to talk to you, Kazansky,” Pete was proud of how steady his voice sounded over the loud hammer of his heart.

“Uh, sure.” Ice stepped back, letting him into the room. “Don’t you need to pack?”

Maverick noticed that Ice’s bag was open on the bed, things stacked neatly in it.

“Never unpacked,” he said, willing himself to stay calm and keep breathing.

“Right.” The word hung between them.

Ice moved past him and started packing again.

Mav took a steady breath. He stepped over to the desk and dropped the certificate and ring onto it, letting the metal clatter against the wood.

Tom went still, hands frozen in his bag. Then he straightened, shoulders pulling back.

“I, uh, found that in my bag,” Pete said when it became apparent that Ice wasn’t going to respond.

Slowly, movement clipped, Ice turned to face him. His mouth opened but for once nothing came out and he closed it again. Pete would have laughed if anything other than sick anxiety could make it past his swollen heart.

With a short sigh, Iceman turned back to his bag and produced his own piece of paper and a ring. He set them both on the bedside table. Maverick’s stomach dropped through the floor.

“How long have you known?” His voice was rough.

“The wake.” Ice’s eyes were locked onto him now. Those glacial blue eyes searching him once more. “The night of the memorial.”

It hurt. A new type of pain sliced at Maverick and he was momentarily stunned that there was pain he hadn’t felt before. Ice had known that day in the locker room.

“You and Slider went to Vegas the night before Top Gun,” Mav said, fighting down the rage and sadness and giddy sensation that all fought for dominance within him.

“We did,” Ice said and seemed to sink a little further into himself. “You and Bradshaw did too. Obviously.”

“My idea,” Pete said, smiling a little as the giddiness seemed to rise anyway. “A blowout before we got here to work.”

Before the memory of Goose could seize him, Mav moved on.

“Do you… remember any of it?” He said.

Ice gave a smile, an edge of bitterness to it as the corners pulled out rather than up.

“A little. Bits and pieces.” Ice sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. “I remember a dance club, being incredibly drunk. And laughter.”

“Lots of laughter,” Pete whispered, nodding and hearing Ice’s intoxicating laugh in his mind once more.

“I think…” Tom began and paused.

Pete watched him; eyes drinking in the way his jaw tightened and then let go, words rushing out.

“I think I remember kissing you.”

The giddiness spiked, Pete felt his stomach flip right over. He opened his mouth to tell Ice he was fairly sure they’d done a bit more than just kissing in that bathroom, if his memories were accurate at all. A sharp knock on the door cut him off.

“Lets get the lead out, Kazansky!” It was Slider’s voice through the door.

Maverick jolted back to Earth. He realised where he was and what he was doing. And worse, what they were both about to go and do. With a short nod, he grabbed the certificate and ring and fled. His shoulder banged hard against Slider but he didn’t look back for fear the other man might see the panic on his face.

Astoundingly, Maverick found another piece of himself had repaired in the short conversation. His insides still looked like a half-finished mosaic, but it was better than the gaping abyss it had been for days.

===

11.

The Enterprise was like torture.

Maverick knew if he hadn’t managed to sew at least a few bits of his heart back together before he had come aboard, he would have thrown himself into the ocean by now. The kind words, the pitying looks, the deafening silence of Merlin; it grated against him.

Goose was everywhere and nowhere. Memories plagued him until he felt like he was seeing ghosts.

With a pounding headache he retreated to his bed and refused to move until he fell asleep.

===

He was Alert-5. He was only being sent up if something went wrong.

Maverick stopped by his bunk, grabbing Goose’s dogtags. He paused at the end of the hall and turned back. Quickly, knowing he was cutting it close, he grabbed the silver wedding ring and looped it onto the tags.

Merlin met him at the door.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, glancing up at the rumble of the catapult overhead.

“I needed something,” Mav said. “Let’s go.”

“You good, Mav?” Sam asked, voice pitched low as they hustled through the carrier.

“Yeah.” He nodded, not feeling fine at all. “Yeah.” He knew he was trying to reassure himself more than Merlin.

The taller man’s face was pinched, tension framing his eyes. Mav tried for his signature cocky smile. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“What Ice said…” Merlin started as they began a preflight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Pete said, waving him down.

Sure, the words had hurt. Burned hot against Pete’s fragile nerves for a moment before the burning turned to righteous anger. He wasn’t sure if that was Iceman’s plan all along, but he definitely felt motivated to prove his stupid husband wrong again.

“We’ll just have to show him, huh?” Pete tried for another grin, this one apparently stuck because Merlin grinned back.

===

“Five! I repeat five! I’m in deep shit!”

Maverick held his breath as they launched, his heart pounding as they took to the air and raced for Ice and Slider.

===

“Get in there, Mav!” Merlin sounded borderline hysterical but Maverick couldn’t hear anything except his own ragged breathing.

===

“Talk to me, Goose,” he prayed.

“Mav, you still have family,” Goose said from the backseat, his voice affectionately exasperated. “Do some of that pilot shit.”

Time stopped. Pete Mitchell drew the deepest breath he’d had for days. Blood rushed to his brain. Time started again.

Everything was in focus. Sharp and clear. He yanked on the stick, making Merlin yelp.

===

12.

It was the moment Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had been waiting for his entire life. He had laid in bed as an ensign picturing this moment. He had seen this moment on the back of his eyelids every time he had walked away from a fight over being Duke Mitchell’s kid. He had been waiting, chafing, for this moment to come.

Yet now it was here, all he wanted to do was find a dark, quiet corner and rest.

His need for attention was saturated. He felt soggy and like his bones carried too much weight. His mouth tasted like ash from cigars and his throat hurt from talking.

It took a long moment for him to realise Iceman had disappeared at some stage. Maverick took it as all the permission he needed. He waved the chattering group down, claiming he needed the bathroom.

As soon as he was out of sight he turned into a hall and then climbed. The paraloft would be empty, the entire crew down in the mess instead. He pushed into the small room and paused. There were legs and boots sticking out from the back corner.

Maverick smiled a little to himself, surprised that he knew those boots and legs. He walked over and folded himself down beside Ice. He tucked himself close enough to feel the warmth of the other man against his upper arm. He felt the shake of Ice as a silent sob hit him.

Without a word, Mav leaned into him and let the soggy feeling rush out. A few tears leaked down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop sniffling, but he didn’t care. He let Ice cry quietly beside him. He would never breathe a word of it.

Eventually the shaking sobs beside him lessened and stopped. Maverick resisted the urge to rest his head on Ice’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Ice croaked.

“You too, Ice,” Mav whispered, unsure just what he was thanking him for. For the warmth of another human, for letting him be there while he cried, for knowing exactly how this felt.

“I guess we need to get a divorce?” Tom said, eyes rolling to Mav.

He went cold. His body tensing and mind stuttering a bare second. Mav tried to get a grip on himself.

“I thought you said I could be your wingman any time,” Pete tried his hardest to grin, forcing the joke out.

Tom laughed. It rushed warmth back through Mav’s veins and the shaky fear faded away again. That laugh was like music to him. It was like rain after a long drought.

Ice opened his hand, letting Maverick see the silver ring looped onto his dogtags. Mav opened his own hand to reveal Goose’s with his own ring.

They laughed together. Pete knocking the toes of his boot’s against Tom and squirming when the other man elbowed him back.

The sound of their laughter together slotted another piece of him back into the mosaic. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

No, he didn’t want a divorce. He had been right all those weeks ago. Drunk Pete Mitchell had known that the man he’d married was special, had been the one he was searching for.

He turned, catching Ice’s jaw with his free hand and pressing a kiss to his lips. They were as soft as they looked, even when laughing. He leaned back to find an adorably shocked look on Tom’s face. He kissed him again, for good measure.

“What about Charlie?”

The words dented his joy and Pete leaned away once more. “There was no laughter,” he said softly. “All I remember of our wedding is laughter. I remember feeling happier than I had in years.”

He wanted to tell Tom that it was his laugh that made him remember. That when he heard that sweet sound it had saved Maverick in more ways than one.

“You make me…” Ice was speaking, interrupting his thoughts. “You piss me off, Mitchell. You and your goddamn rebel spirit.”

“Gee, thanks,” Pete muttered. It was good to know he was still Ice.

“I’ve always had a thing for bad boys,” Ice’s voice was sly. “Just ask Slider.”

Maverick barked out a laugh and bumped his shoulder into Ice. The other pilot tangled their fingers together, holding tight.

It seemed the best he was going to get out of the stoic Iceman, the closest he was going to get to a real confession. Pete glanced up at him, wanting to see Tom’s eyes because they never really lied to him.

Soft lips pressed to his once more and Maverick’s brain went blank. This was far more of a kiss than the two he had stolen before. He could taste the sweat and tears. He could smell Tom’s scent and a hint of hair gel. Then Tom was leaning into him, over him, and Pete stopped thinking all together.

Pete clutched at him, securing them together before Tom could wise-up and leave. It only brought them closer still. Heat burned through Maverick and senses he thought long-dead roared to life. He felt like he was flying again. Tom made a small noise of want, pushing it straight into Pete’s mouth, and then released him.

He heaved in air, revelling in this new feeling of breathlessness. Ice was watching him, eyes overbright and still tracing Mav’s lips every few moments. Mav leaned up and stole another kiss, still holding tight to Ice’s flight suit.

“I guess you can be my husband,” he muttered, unable to draw away for long before he needed another kiss.

“Bullshit.” Ice chuckled. “You can be mine.”

“That’s not funny, Kazansky,” Mav said, no real heat to his tone.

“It’s pretty funny,” Ice mumbled, too busy kissing at Maverick’s jaw.

Whatever Maverick was about to say died in his chest as Tom latched on to the sensitive skin beneath his ear and gave a gentle suck. Mav made a strange mewling noise before cursing. Ice laughed softly, evilly, right into Mav’s ear.

With another muttered curse, Pete turned and threw a leg over Ice’s hips, straddling him right there on the floor of the paraloft. He was rewarded with a shocked expression before Tom leaned up eagerly and kissed at his lips once more. Mav delved his hands into Ice’s hair and gripped one shoulder, it was broad and strong. Another fuzzy drunk memory surfaced but he was too busy living the real thing to pay much attention.

“Ice,” Pete said through kisses after a while.

“Tom,” the other man corrected.

“Tom,” Pete pulled back but kept his hands linked behind Tom’s neck, one in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was being serious. About being your husband.”

An amused glint flashed through Tom’s eyes as he looked up at Pete. His hands were planted on one of Mav’s hips, the other on his ass.

“Why on Earth would you want to be married to me?” Tom asked, frowning a little. Pete kissed at the small wrinkle without thinking.

“You…” Pete sighed and sat back a little more. “You make me a better person. And you really do make me laugh. Now that I can read you.”

Tom’s face went slack, all hint of persona and facade long gone. He gave a sad smile and a sigh.

“I’m a cold-hearted bastard, Mitchell,” he said quietly. “I don’t tolerate anything less that perfect, especially not in myself.”

Pete quirked his eyebrows, already well aware of these traits.

“I don’t get drunk married,” Ice said, frowning harder now.

Maverick opened his mouth to point out that they literally had done just that, but Ice wasn’t finished.

“But I married you. I remember how light it made me feel. Ok, so it might have been all the vodka,” Ice smirked and Pete laughed. “But again, today, when we buzzed the tower… It feels easier around you.”

The fluttering embarrassment and glee in Mav’s stomach threatened to overwhelm him. He clutched onto Ice’s shoulders harder, trying to remind himself it was real.

“Good,” Pete said, leaning in and kissing Tom slowly, gently this time. “You deserve to feel easier. And you aren’t cold-hearted.”

Tom snorted. His arms wrapped Pete’s body and held him tight.

“Let’s try?” Pete whispered. “I vow to always make you laugh, Tom Kazansky.”

Tom snorted again and looked up into Pete’s eyes once more. “Was that your vow?”

“Mm-hmm,” Pete grinned, not even a little ashamed. “Your turn.”

“I vow to keep you from killing yourself or anyone else with your unsafe flying,” Tom said, eyes dancing.

Pete threw his head back and laughed. After a beat Tom joined in. He smacked Tom’s shoulder but kept laughing anyway. The shaking joy was enough to make him feel whole and complete for the first time since Goose left him. Or earlier still.

“Unacceptable,” Pete said though the last of his giggles. “No, I don’t accept. Try again.”

Tom chuckled, pulling Pete close once more until he could whisper.

“I vow to always be here, Pete Mitchell,” he whispered, cheeks flaring pink. “I wont leave unless you tell me to go.”

The last piece of his fractured heart slipped back into place. Pete gave a shuddery breath and pressed their foreheads together.

“Good,” he whispered back. “I do.”

Tom ruined the moment with another snort of laughter before pressing a slow kiss to Pete’s lips.

“I do too.”

#top gun #top gun 1986 #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw #carole bradshaw #charlie blackwood #fanfic

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fancyregulus · 2 years

Text

It's (Not) My Party But I'll Cry if I Want To

I have started dabbling in writing fanfic once again. And of course this first Marauders one is for Jegulus because why not? I didn't mean to make this one angsty but that's how the pizza pies sometimes. There's some cheesy Wolfstar sprinkled on top though.

Word Count: 1180

Anyways this prompt was inspired by the following line of dialogue from the show 'Wednesday': "I want us to be more than friends." "You'll snap out of it."

“For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow!”

James bellows at the top of his lungs along with the rest of the Gryffindors who had gathered in the Common Room around the comically tall cake topped with a frightening amount of lit candles for how drunk those surrounding it were.

“For he’s a jolly good fellow! Which nobody can deny!”

Sirius giggles and sways near the birthday cake. His face is a rosy pink, not from embarrassment, rather from all the alcohol he has quite impressively ingested before 9:00pm. Remus is standing right beside Sirius, a firm hand on the birthday boy’s back, steadying him. James and Remus have a bet on whether Sirius was going to make it to midnight. James feels pretty good about his chances of becoming a sickle richer when the clock strikes twelve. He takes another swig of the drink in his hand.

Everyone watches as Sirius unsuccessfully tries blowing out all of his candles at once.

Everyone laughs as Remus steps in to hold his hair back so he doesn’t light himself on fire.

Everyone except for him.

James locks his gaze on the boy in the corner, arms crossed and pulling a green cardigan tight around him. He must have just snuck in the door, and he looks back towards it now as if contemplating a quick escape. James will see to it that that won’t happen. Before James knows it, he downs his drink and his feet are leading him to the dark corner where his… James falters. Ex-boyfriend, ex-fling, ex-secret – none of those seem to fit. His ex-something.

He leans against the wall beside Regulus, hoping he looks more casual than he feels. “I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” James states bluntly.

“Well I came, didn’t I?” Regulus huffs, a small bite to his tone.

James raises his eyebrows. “That you did.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, scanning the scene in front of them. Lily and Mary have taken point on cutting the cake, working like a well oiled machine to pass slices throughout the crowded room. Peter had been manning the record player, which just started playing ‘Waterloo’ by ABBA, causing Remus to go over there and take over the DJ duties, much to the chagrin of a group of fourth year girls who had been dancing giddily.

“Don’t tell Remus, but I actually love ABBA,” James muses to Regulus, who stays silent. James doesn’t like long uncomfortable silences, even when he is the cause of them. So he continues. “Why did you come?”

Regulus flinches, ever so slightly, that no one else would have noticed. James notices. Just as slightly, Regulus’ voice wavers when he replies, “To wish my idiot brother a happy birthday. Don’t worry, I won’t be staying long.”

With that, Regulus pushes off from the wall towards Sirius, who exclaims excitedly when he sees his little brother. James finds himself alone. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. Remus locks eyes with James from across the room and just looks at him sadly. Remus had been the only one to know about James and Regulus, as James certainly couldn’t have told Sirius about them. Them. Whatever they were.

What a beautiful idea, for James and Regulus to be thought of together. James aches to return to that.

James doesn’t see Regulus again during the party. He tries not to think about him either. He had been trying for a few days now, but Merlin knows how well that had been going.

Before James knew it, the music had quieted and the crowds had dispersed. James had long been sobered up at this point. The clock strikes twelve and James watches as Remus picks up a snoring Sirius off the floor. His eyes flutter open long enough to see it was Remus before closing them again and mumbling some drunken nonsense, wrapping his arms around Remus like a sloth on a branch.

“I guess you won the bet after all,” Remus chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Let me get this one up to bed and I’ll come help you clean up,” Remus offers.

James waves his hand. “S’fine,” he says. “You stay with the birthday boy. I can take care of all this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, now go on then.”

“Right, mate.” Remus begins ascending the stairs to their dorm room. “I’m sorry, by the way, about… you know.”

James tenses, but he doesn’t respond as he watches Remus and Sirius finally disappear. Once he is alone, he sits with his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He has no idea how he’d ended up here. Sirius’ birthday bash is supposed to be the best night of the year, one where he and his friends get so drunk they don’t have a care in the world. Instead he’d spent it pining over Sirius’ brother. Someone who James cares about more than the world.

Before he could start spiraling again, James stands from his chair and begins scooping cups and plates into a trash bag.

“You want some help with that?”

The sound of Regulus’ voice sends a shock of electricity down James’ spine. Oh, how he wishes that he wasn’t so easily affected by Regulus Black.

James has no clue where Regulus came from. Or why he came back at all. He wants so desperately to know, but he refuses to ask. All that comes out of James’ mouth is, “Sure.” As Regulus starts to place the pillows back on the couch where they belong, James wishes so badly that he would’ve said no. They work in silence for a few moments. James doesn’t break it this time.

“You’re a good friend to stick it out for cleanup duty.”

“Regulus…”

“I was talking to Pandora tonight-” he continues, not looking up at James.

“We don’t have to pretend to get along.”

“What if I’m not pretending?”

James goes still at Regulus’ words, the weight of them heavier than James can bear.

“You can’t say that. You don’t get to say that. Not after everything you said before.”

He needs to get out of here. He can’t risk falling for this again. For him again. His feet keep him planted to the spot, seemingly against his better judgment.

“You can’t be my friend, Regulus! I want us to be more than friends.”

A look that James can’t identify flashes in Regulus’ eyes too quickly. James doesn’t like it. Regulus has always been hard to read, and he’s become even more difficult to discern lately. James just doesn’t understand. They had seemed like they were on the same wavelength for a while there. It had been a good time. Plenty of secret meetings in coat closets and empty classrooms. Laughter among friends about inside jokes that only they understood. The memories warm James up from the inside out.

“You’ll snap out of it,” Regulus whispers, his words so void of emotion that it pulls the warmth right out of James. “Everyone does sooner or later.”

#jegulus #one shot #drabble #blurbs #idk what the kids are calling em these days #marauders #james potter #james potter pov #regulus black #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

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crinkled-emotions · 2 years

Note

1 for Rooster please with some Daderick action if that would be okay. Happy Christmas 🎄🎅

You got it! This is a hoot, I love this prompt list. Festive spirit, all that...

Speaking of the so-called Festive Spirit, driving home yesterday there were some dumbasses on the road. Adhered to the speed limit, be kind to other road users, USE THE CORRECT SIDE OF THE ROAD-

Anyway!

"Overflowing trashcan" and some Daderick action?? Heck yeah!

THIS HAS SOME WARNINGS: Mention of canonical character death (Carole's passing), Rooster thinks he's hungover (he's not. Surprise!) and some angst to go with it because why the fuck not right??

"You done?"

"Mmhmm."

Maverick knelt by Rooster, offering him a wad of toilet paper.

"So much for a peaceful first Christmas, huh?"

Rooster hummed, staring determinedly into the void (the toilet bowl). Maverick took that as a sign he maybe wasn't as done as he said he said he was and put his hand on the back of Rooster's neck.

"Let me get this straight. First, you got really, really drunk."

"Mm."

"And then you started to feel... congested, so you stopped drinking and showed up at my door?"

"Yep."

"And now we're here. You're a strange unit, Roos."

"Yeah, well, you and mom raised me, so."

Maverick snorted, fond memories flooding through him at the thought of Carole and some of the strange things she used to do. It made sense to her, but it didn't always make sense to everyone else. He wouldn't have asked for her to be any different. Looking at Bradley, a grown adult, he hoped the Navy hadn't beaten it out of him yet.

Bradley pulled away from the toilet bowl, finally, and scrubbed at his eyes.

"Can you feel cold from a hangover?" He croaked, voice raw from everything that had just happened. Maverick wanted to flush but he didn't want to waste water if the kid wasn't done.

"Y'know, I haven't personally, but your dad- he always got cold when he was hungover. We'd go out with Penny, and in the morning he'd be asleep on the couch, shaking his ass off."

Bradley smiled a little, pulling himself together to stand. While he brushed his teeth Maverick flushed the toilet and searched the linen cupboard for the Febreeze.

"Y'know, you don't talk about him a lot. Um, what he was like... I don't even know how tall he was."

Maverick snorted. He passed over the mouthwash and gave the bathroom a quick spray with the Febreeze spray he'd managed to locate.

"Uh, he was... a little taller than you, but not as broad in the shoulders. He barely fit in the cockpit, if I'm honest. Him and your Uncle Slider and Uncle Merlin all had issues fitting in there."

"Hm."

Bradley froze, and Maverick thought he was going to puke again (he was not sure if he could handle another round, but he kept that to himself) but instead he began to sneeze, repeatedly, into his elbow. Maverick grimaced, reaching for the tissues sitting on the windowsill.

"Here, blow your nose. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I don't fuckin' know. My head hurts, I'm cold, I think I lost everything I ate for the last week, and now I can't stop- fuck-"

Rooster paused mid-sentence to sneeze again, Maverick wincing when he watched the grimace of pain settle in his godson's features. He knew sneezing with a headache wasn't pleasant, let alone with a headache and the body aches of a hangover.

"Alright, well, how about you sit at the island for a minute, and I'll get the couch set up for you?"

Bradley's shoulders slacked off and he hummed, nodding tiredly. Now that he'd stopped sneezing, Maverick could see the fever flush on his cheeks.

"Alright, c'mon, let's get you some medicine."

With Bradley on the couch, lying on top of a towel with a bucket and the trashcan, Maverick was free to get him some food, medicine and some fluids. He took one glance at his fridge and swore under his breath, suddenly reminded of what day it was.

"Oh, kid, it's Christmas Eve, the others are gonna be here any minute now-"

Right on cue, the front door opened and Hangman barrelled inside, the Daggers following. They all carried plates of food, cartons of beer or presents.

"Merry Christmas, Mav!" Jake yelled and Bradley winced, trying not to let everyone see how bad it hurt his head. Bob, forever a stealth pilot (Wizzo, actually), took note of this and put down his present collection.

"You're not looking so good, Rooster. You okay?" He asked. Rooster shrugged.

"Mav said my Christmas gift this year was the flu and a not-bad bowl of soup, but so far I've only got the flu part. Excuse me."

He sat up and began sneezing violently again, the team suddenly a flurry of chaos. Maverick sighed, managing to get them all into the kitchen so that he could shut the door for a minute to focus on his godson.

"Still working on the tissues?" He asked with a sympathetic smile. Rooster nodded, tossing the used one into the trash can beside him. It was only small, and already threatening an overflow. Maverick grimaced.

"Well, it beats the last Christmas we spent together," he said with a sigh. Bradley frowned.

"What makes you say that?"

"You weren't talking to me, kid. I think you knew... about the papers, by then. Your mom was so sick, I'm pretty sure she slept through the whole dinner-"

Bradley was tossed into a flashback, gasping when he realised what Maverick was saying was true.

"Oh. Fuck, Mav, I'm so- I'm so sorry-"

Carole had died in February. By April, Bradley was gone, nineteen and cut off from the only family he had left.

"Hey, no, don't apologise. It's okay, we've talked about this."

Maverick put down the trash can, bringing Bradley into a hug as he crouched by the edge of the couch. He could feel how he shook in his arms, frowned at the way Bradley buried against him.

"Oh, kid, I know..."

He would never, ever regret inviting the rest of the Daggers over for Christmas, but potentially the smarter idea would have been to do the 26th with them, to give Bradley time to process.

It was their first Christmas reunited, but it was also their first Christmas together without Carole.

Suddenly he got it.

#Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Maverick #Callsign: Maverick

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blissfullydeadly · 2 years

Text

October 7th 2022

it feels like forever since ive been able to actually sit down and write. I'm so disappointed because i didn't check my canvas notifications to see that class was canceled. i got to class and there was no one there. i knew i should have brought my book or my journal. I'm sitting outside right now kind of twilliting my thumbs because i don't have anything to really do than work on my matrix articles and for that, i need like 2 monitors because of all the tabs i need open.

these past two weeks have been alot honestly. my mother got 6 teeth removed and her body had a really bad reaction to it. she was in and out of the hospital for a while. it doesn't help that she has an autoimmune disorder so that only made things worse. she's home now which is good and is in the process of recovering. one of the days last week when mom was in the hospital the girls really needed me so i went down. i tried to get my grandparents involved and my mother legit called me on her hospital bed saying she wasn't caving into my grandparents....even though this was like a legit emergency. my grandmother actually reached out to my mom saying she loved her which is really fucking shocking because they are both so stubborn.

my parents also surrendered merlin to the animal rescue league. apparently, he was hissing at everyone and being really nasty. apart of me knew it was coming i just didn't know when. my parents think that a demon attached itself to merlin and made him evil. after they got rid of him my sister face timed me and showed me all the crosses that they hung up throughout the house. plus i noticed that my father stopped "taking the lord's name in vain". he used to say jesus christ and god fucking dammit but now he stopped.

this past week i got sick and thought i just had a cold but it was fucking covid lmao. i didn't have any like serious symptoms thank goodness. it passed pretty quickly and I'm back on my feet now. i was with C the majority of it which made it a lot better. he didn't want me coming down but on Sunday he got hit by a drunk driver. thankfully he's okay, but the condition of his car is not so hot. the entire right side is swiped pretty bad and the back right tire is intended toward the car which makes it pretty much undrivable. the guy hit him and then fucking took off and C drove after his ass. the guy stopped the car and got out and ran. once the police showed up they found drug paraphernalia all inside the car as well as empty bottles of alcohol. C got more info from the police and found out this guy has multiple warrants for his arrest and doesn't have insurance. apparently, the guys mom does so C is gonna have to go after her which sucks but what else are you gonna do?

whenever something bad happens i complain of there being no break because there never fucking is. its constantly one thing after the other. i just hope for now it calms down for a little while

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years

Note

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were.

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that.

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up.

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate.

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair.

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on.

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it.

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too.

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain.

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart.

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up.

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you.

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you.

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips.

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting.

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class.

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right.

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals.

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one.

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.” Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever.

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow.

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class.

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be.

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing.

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair.

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party.

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one.

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor, Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out.

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle.

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud.

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered.

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one.

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating.

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls.

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number.

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile.

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there.

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all.

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you.

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together.

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back.

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away.

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring.

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away.

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed.

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes.

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him.

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open.

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried.

Lumos.

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you.

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning.

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink.

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you.

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

“It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged.

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?”

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar.

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.”

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back.

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket.

“How come?”

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.”

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged.

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem.

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red.

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating.

“It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded.

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move.

“What does red mean to you y/n?”

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him.

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless.

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?”

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away.

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands.

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips.

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles.

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all.

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop.

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like.

It tasted like your wine stained lips.

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return.

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet.

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing.

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.”

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost.

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms.

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.”

FIN.

~~~

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader fluff #draco fluff #draco one shot #draco fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x yn #draco x you

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