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#Also the boys are all watching from around the corner and high fiving each other
aceofshitposts · 2 years
Note
👀 AU where Bruharley meet at a masquerade gala ❤️‍🔥
This is supposed to be that 5 head canons but my heart heard "Cinderella au", then ran with it and then never really got to the Cinderella part anyway so we just rounded back around to meeting at a masquerade ball 😂 WHATEVER ENJOY
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𝓐 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓪 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓮𝓮...
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Bruce isn't fooled. He knows what this is about and it isn't really to celebrate his skills as a leader or the period of peace times the kingdom was currently enjoying or whatever Dick and Alfred had cooked up. He knows that's not what this about.
His family is worried about him, he gets that. He just wishes they didn't insist on interfering when Bruce was perfectly happy, thank you. His failed engagement to Selina was… alright, it was still a little sore but that was to be expected. But it was better than before, Selina had even sent letters on her travels in the last year. So.
He was fine.
He was fine and absolutely did not need to meet new people under the guise of a masquerade ball.
And yet here he was.
Nursing a glass of wine, hoping desperately not to catch anyone's eyes. From across the ballroom he can see Jason and Tim conspiring together, their red and black masks inconspicuously matching. Bruce suspects half the sudden insistence on him meeting new people is in part due to Jason and Tim returning from their latest trip where they certainly eloped.
The night was still young, unfortunately, which meant Alfred expected him to continue mingling for at least another three hours. He'd already danced with more than his fill of prospective hopefuls, some better than others at hiding their intentions. Bruce appreciated the gesture, sure, but he wasn't sure how else this was supposed to go.
He catches movement to his left, as much as he can with the mask obstructing his vision, a woman in a slinky yellow dress with a large ruffle down the side approaching swiftly. Surely Alfred can forgive him for avoiding just one dance tonight? He turns sharply and heads for the gardens hoping to lose the woman in the shuffle of bodies.
The night air is a welcome relief, the gardens are mercifully quiet compared to the crowded ballroom. Quieter, anyway, since as Bruce rounds the corner of a hedge towards the fountain he immediately starts hearing the sounds of a struggle.
"C'mon you stupid thing…"
Sitting on the edge of the fountain is a woman, her silvery white bodice bleeding into a extremely voluminous red skirt made up of multiple jagged layers which was currently bunched up in her arms as she tried desperately to do up the strap on her heels.
"Would you like help?" The words are out of Bruce's mouth before he even fully processes the offer, the woman's head snapping up to look at him.
Her masquerade mask resembles a harlequin, red and black diamonds edged with silver. Curly blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, several pieces falling into her face from where they've come loose from a half updo.
"Well, ain't this embarrassing," she huffs, "didn't even make it into the party before having a wardrobe malfunction."
Bruce finds himself chuckling. "That's alright, the party isn't all that great anyway."
Crimson lips curve into a smile. "Oh, yeah? Then I guess I got all dressed up for nothing."
"I wouldn't say that. May I?"
She shrugs and sticks out her foot, having to gather the many layers of her skirt up in order to reveal the unbuckled shoe.
"I like your bat mask," she says after releasing the layers of her skirt so far they all hit Bruce in the face, "very mysterious."
"It was my youngest's idea," Bruce mumbles, backing away from the woman as she unnecessarily dusts herself off.
"Youngest? There isn't a Mrs Bats I gotta be looking out for is there? Because I will find out and tell her you were out here fondling a poor girl's feet in a heartbeat."
She rounds on Bruce, lips turned down in a severe frown as she points an accusatory finger in his direction. It's quite the sight, a woman in quite possibly the biggest ball gown Bruce has ever seen looking like she was one step away from trying to beat Bruce within an inch of his life for someone she didn't even know existed.
"No," Bruce chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. "There is no, uh, Mrs Bats, as you say."
She assesses him for a moment more before relaxing. "I am choosing to believe you but if you're lying…"
"I'll hold you to it." Bruce holds out his hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he asks, "would you care to dance?"
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angelfic · 1 year
Text
— CALM AFTER THE STORM
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pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
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when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
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2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
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3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
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4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
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5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus��� hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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TEN YEARS
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A/N: Since it's looking like we won't be getting a livestream of the Leeds show tonight, and since I have a crazy few days coming up starting tomorrow, I wanted to post a little something to keep y'all happy while I get my schedule together and to also celebrate ST and last night! short, sweet, no plot, just vibes.
Warnings: none, except maybe typos (i have no clue where my glasses are)
----
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears despite the chattering crowds all around her. "Excuse me- could I just" mumbling apologies as she squeezed past the masses of giddy, sweaty, emotional, and excited fans. She could blame the ones who were struggling to keep from crying, or the ones who were immediately recounting the events they'd just witnessed onstage for fear of their memories eroding as the night came to a close, or maybe to make sure that what they'd experienced was actually real, that other people saw it too. In fact, she felt the same way and would've wanted to stick around and take it all in, if it weren't for her insatiable desire to lay her hands on Matty as soon as humanly possible.
She felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach, her anticipation and impatience spurred on by the glimpses and fragments of conversation that reached her ears from people around her.
"He looked so good in that leather jacket-" someone behind her had observed.
"I'm glad he took it off though. Cuz, arms? hello!"
somewhere from the center of the crowd, an overstimulated, antsy woman yelled out,
"but can we talk about Ross's hair?! I love him."
"I mean, I knew they weren't going to play antichrist, cuz Matty is evil, but at least give us fallingforyou?"
"bro, no matter what he does, you're never happy. he can't win at this point."
"ten years! it's been ten years! 2014 me, scrolling black and white tumblr would lose her shit if he could see this."
the smile that had plastered across her face grew wider with every comment she overheard. Though the walk to the backstage area wasn't long earlier in the day, when she'd wandered around, watching the backline tech and the crew set things up, right now, it felt miles away. Finally, too impatient to do things responsibly, she jumped the safety barrier and landed on the other side. giggling to herself as she sprinted to find the boys.
Her airy giggles broke into a fit of laughter when she spotted the four of them, dress in all black, huddled into a corner, whispering and laughing like children. Matty turned around at the clomping of her footsteps, a grin on his face.
"Babe-" was all he'd managed to say before she'd jumped into his arms with the full force of her body, laughing uncontrollably into his ear as she panted, breathless.
Matty's arms wrapped around her waist, picking her up, off the floor, and spinning around in circles, giggling until they were both dizzy.
"You- you did it!" was the first thing she could think to say, still out of breath and heaving, she pressed her lips to his, clumsily crashing into him. Her feet unsteady, and her head still dizzy, she chuckled when their teeth collided.
Remnants of Matty's aftershave still clung to his shirt. She could taste the cigarettes he'd smoked onstage and the drink he'd sipped on. She buried her face into him for a moment, leaning her body against his as she came down from the adrenalin high, then, with her feet firmly on the ground, she turned to face the boys.
"Congratulations! how're we feeling?"
chatter broke out again as they interrupted each other, answering her questions, describing the view from the stage, George boasting that his drum riser was the best spot up there, and Matty, restless as ever, re-enacting his moves.
"Ross, I, um, have some news." she looked up into his eyes, a gentle hand pressed on top of his. "Two people were injured, five lost consciousness. Your hair killed the entire front row." Ross's initial concern gave way to an innocent laugh, his head tilted upwards, his pearlescent smile drawing a dimple on his cheek.
"He knows, he knows." Adam patted Ross's back prompting Matty to reach over and pull the hair tie out of ross's hair. "glorious lions mane. He does it for the ladies."
***
She couldn't help but smile against the soft fabric of Matty's hoodie, clinging to him harder and letting her body sway along with his as he danced to the Killer's song from the side of the stage.
"Sorry, I'll calm down." Matty whispered down to her.
"No, no! Please don't. I love it when you like the music."
Hw wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his and moving them both to the rhythm of the music.
"Matty? You happy?" she looked up at his eyes and saw his answer before he even spoke.
"So happy."
"Good. I mean, you looked like you were having fun up there."
"'course I was. I mean, we used to come here as kids-"
George laid a hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly, "oh, here it comes." playfully rolling his eyes.
"same old story." Ross mumbled.
"oh about how he came to Reading instead of picking up exam results?" Adam giggled.
Matty laughed, telling them to fuck off, before looking back down at her. "Yeah, I'm happy."
"And you get to do it all again tomorrow." she planted a kiss on his cheek.
"I know. How lucky am I?"
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brrrkdslek · 1 year
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WOOYOUNGIE MISSED YOU!><
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❒ jwy x male! reader
❒ porn w plot (idk)
❒ you come back to korea after a few long months of filming your new movie. your darling wooyoung fills you in on everything you missed, and how much he missed you.
❒ raw sex, dry humping, creampie
❒ first smutfic!!
❒ 1.7k
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wooyoung bounced in his seat excitedly as he waited for you in the airport. you were coming back from china after shooting a drama for five months. could you believe it? five months without you by wooyoung's side.
since you were coming back today, wooyoung decided to pick you up from the airport while the others prepared your party back at the dorms.
he looked around the crowd of people as they leave the airport, searching for you. he turned his head in all the directions but never seeming to find you.
suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around his waist. "looking for me?" wooyoung swore he almost let out a moan by how you whispered in his ear.
he turned around and hugged you tightly, "hyungggg! i missed you so much... you were gone for way too long!" wooyoung whined and complained about how much you missed out when you were gone.
as you two got in the backseat, the driver began to drive back to the dorms.
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during the ride, wooyoung talked about all the fun performances, interviews and how much he wished you were there too.
you actually watched all their performances on tv to catch up on everything. you were proud to see your members do so well.
wooyoung had his legs swung across your thighs as he continued talking about their most recent performance. you smiled and watched him, his pretty eyes, adorable smile, and oh that little mole under his eye you were dying to kiss.
you and wooyoung actually share feelings for each other, but never reciprocated. since the both of you were flirty by nature, the two never made moves through the years.
you listened to wooyoung talk as you gently rubbed his legs, humming and replying every now and then. as you arrived to the dorms, wooyoung held your hand in his as he dragged you back.
"c'mon, faster! everyone's waiting!" wooyoung said excitedly. you almost guessed that they were throwing a party for your return but decided to keep it to yourself.
as you opened the door, a confetti popper popped from above you, sprinkling your hair with confetti. the members all screamed "surprise!"
everyone partied and drank until 11pm. they had gotten a bit too drunk since they had a one week break.
you had a high alcohol tolerance so you were fine. the members slowly moved back to their rooms as you went back to yours, which you share with wooyoung of course.
you rubbed your eyes and lay down as you slowly drifted to sleep before he cuddled up beside you. holding wooyoung in your arms, you drifted to sleep.
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you smile as you felt your neck tickle and itch. your thigh also felt- wet? wait what, why am i wet? you crack your eyes open and immediately feel wooyoung's mouth on your neck.
"hyung, hyung, hyung!" he mumbled as he humped your thigh. he licked and kissed at your neck as he buried himself deeper into your neck.
you held his waist, stopping his movement. you leaned down near his ear, "what are you doing, wooyoungie?" he jumped and looked up at you with a red face.
he stuttered as he tried to explain himself, "uh- i was, um, i don't- uh..." you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. letting out a breathy laugh, you stroke his hair with your hand.
"did you miss me that much?" you pushed your leg into his crotch as he moaned in a high-pitch. with the hand holding his waist, you kneaded at his skin and flexed your thigh,
"aren't you gonna answer me, hm?" he looked up at you with heart-eyes and drool leaking down the corner of his mouth. "mmh, missed you s' much..." you cooed at the boy as you captured his mouth in yours.
he moaned as he pulled you in closer by wrapping his arms around your neck. he let out a high-pitched whine as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, exploring every corner.
you pulled away, a string of drool connecting at your lips. you held his jaw between your hands as you stared at him, all dumb already.
"i only made out with you and you're already fallin' apart,—" you brushed his hair back, "—maybe we shouldn't continue?"
his eyes widen as he pulled you close, "no- nono! hyung, pleasepleaseplease-! i can- i can keep going..." he said with tears in his eyes, as if he had been waiting for this his whole life. which he had.
wooyoung always yearned for you, for your touch, your love. for some reasons he was always shy when he was around you, only you. you made him all hot and bothered, and he loved every second of it.
he buried his face into the crook of your neck as he sniffled and whispered softly, "don't go..." your heart swelled at the cute boy.
"awh, 'm not going anywhere love. you know that." you cooed as you held him in your arms. you felt his hard cock press against yours, only the fabrics of your boxers and his shorts separating you.
you kiss his head as you started moving your hips. letting out a soft moan, wooyoung followed. hot, sweaty bodies stuck together as you two humped against each other.
you flip wooyoung so he laid on the bed and got on top of him, kissing him deeply. you moved to take off your his shirt, never breaking the kiss.
you got rid of his and your clothes, except for your boxers. you reached towards your drawer, pulling out a small bottle of lube and squeezing a nice amount on your fingers then his ass.
he flinched at the coldness and let out a whine. "do you wanna hold onto me?" he nods eagerly and opens his arms, almost like a baby.
you hold him in your arms as you slowly start to push one finger in, to which wooyoung moaned whorishly. you licked and bit at his ear as you pushed your finger deeper and deeper by the second.
this was so good. you were so good. wooyoung loves it, his body burned as his vision became hazy, this was dizzying, but he fucking loved it.
he moaned out as you put a second finger in, scissoring his insides. he let out a yelp and arched his back before falling back onto the bed.
"hey, hey, hey... shh, we gotta be quiet love," you curled your fingers and pumped in and out expertly. wooyoung shut his eyes as he whined, a tear slipping out from the pleasure.
you cooed at him, kissing the tear away as you put another finger in. wooyoung gripped your arms, seeing stars. his toes curled as his entire body shook, "oh- faster... please!" you did as told and pumped in faster and faster.
wooyoung wrapped his arms around your head, pulling you into his chest. you sucked and licked at him chest, biting down making him moan. "'m c-close..."
you kissed him lovingly as he came, moaning into your mouth. as you pulled your finger out, his body twitched and shook with every little touch. "so cute..." you mumbled as you brush the hair sticking to his forehead.
for a second you hesitated, "are you sure we should keep going? you look kinda- uh, how should i put this?" he laughed as he pulled you in for another kiss.
"hehe, i wanna keep going... i want you to fucking ruin me." he whispered with heart-eyes. god, you were so easy to sway as you immediately lined your cock up.
"this'll hurt, okay?" you peck his cheek, right under his mole. you held his hips steadily as you slowly pushed in. wooyoung put a hand over his mouth as he moaned, "can i?" he nodded reassuringly as you pushed in in one go. wooyoung threw his head back as you started pushing in and out at an agonising pace, he moaned and gripped the sheets, "o-okay... you can go faster."
your hip immediately snap forward, hitting his prostate. "o-oh! right there- oh my god..." you began fucking him at an inhumane speed. kissing him every now and then.
"hyunggg~ yeah, faster!" you pressed your forehead against his as you pounded him with all your might. "i-i can't believe you're actually fucking me right now..." he smiled sweetly at you.
"oh darling, i'll make you believe it." you put his legs over your shoulders, folding him in half, before fucking him again. with each thrust, the tip of your cock hitting at his prostate.
wooyoung moaned wantonly over and over, he couldn't believe this. you were actually here, fucking him. he never thought he'd get laid, and mostly not by you. he made grabby-hands at you as you leaned down, capturing his mouth in a hot make out.
he pulled away and held you close, "fuck! i'm gonna cum soon-" "me too, woo." you groaned as his walls clamped down on you, it felt so fucking good. "should i pull out-" "no!" he pulled you in,
"cum inside me! fill me up, fill me with your babies-!" he stuck his tongue out, drool dripping from his mouth as you kissed and sucked at his neck, squeezing out more moans from the boy.
"o-oh! i'm gonna cum-" just then, you squeezed his cock with your hand, "no, you'll wait until i cum too." you smirked evilly as he cried out, nails trailing down your back. "please, hyung-! let me- let me cummm!" wooyoung whined before you spoke,
"'m close, baby..." you kissed him hungrily as he clawed at your back, you smiled into the kiss, that better leave a mark. after a few more thrusts, you released your hold on his cock as you came inside him,
he followed as his came in thick white ropes across his chest. "y-you're still going!?" wooyoung's eyes widen in shock at your never ending cum. he moaned as his stomach became swollen, soon after you pulled out.
you laid back beside wooyoung as he curled up against you happily. you kissed his forehead, and pull the covers up.
"can we go again?"
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©BRRRKDSLEK 2023
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euphorial-docx · 3 months
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so i wrote a lil something for a potential jegulily challengers au…
Lily’s lungs burn when she inhales, her chest catching fire every time she takes in another panting breath. Her legs are still heavy from the last rally— the longest rally of the match— but her eyes are trained on the other end of the court.
Emma Vanity’s breaths are ragged too as she paces the mirrored lines, hands on her hips and her mouth wearing a frown. The ball boy is still collecting the ball, and the crowd’s cheers continue to roar amidst the leftover energy, but all Lily can focus on is Emma, the score, and her own heart hammering in her ears.
Another ball boy holds out four for her to choose from. The crowd’s excitement begins to taper off as she takes in the choices before her. Lily holds each of them in her hands, squeezing to check the pressure before selecting the two with the least. The ball boy rushes back to his position, and Lily returns her sight to Emma.
“Fifteen-Forty!” the umpire sharply announces from their chair, the crowd now having returned the silence to take their anticipation.
Breathe in, breathe out. She smothers the fire in her lungs, but there’s a match in her hand. She bounces the ball once, twice— she glances up at Emma. She’s shifting foot-to-foot in her defensive position, waiting eagerly. Lily steps closer to the service line, ready.
She tosses the ball into the air. Her sneaker drags against the hardcourt as she lifts her racket, the sun glaring down at her, and takes her swing. In the blink of an eye, the ball hits the service box and sets the final point into motion.
With a grunt, Emma sends the ball flying back with a powerful forehand stroke. Eyes on the ball, Lily makes a seamless split step and gets to where it lands before it does.
One.
She quickly finds her positioning and returns the stroke in kind. The sound of her racket carries through the entire stadium.
Two.
Emma chases the ball and takes a hit. The ball hurdles over the net and bounces on Lily’s service line.
Three.
Lily split steps and swings, shooting the ball straight ahead at Emma’s center. Lily follows through with the stroke and shuffles back into position, anticipating.
Four.
Emma is goaded back into the center of her court as she returns the fire with fire. A backhand stroke has the ball bounding over to Lily exactly where she wanted it, as if there’s a chain she’s yanking.
Five.
She knows where it needs to go. Lily only has to make a small step and swing her racket away from her body, and the ball goes where she needs it to.
Six.
The ball hits Emma’s far left corner, near the alley but within line. Emma has to scramble over her own feet to get behind the ball, barely able to make a swing at it before it could bounce a second time. Her grunt is loud and angry when she sends it back into Lily’s hands.
Seven.
The ball makes a high arc, a bid to bide time, but Lily rushes forward at the center line to meet it halfway. She pours all her will into this swing, her hips and shoulders unloading everything, smashing the ball with a frenzied cry.
Emma was spun around too many times. She miscalculates Lily’s aim as she tries to refocus herself, allowing the ball to crush against the center line with no chance of volley.
Eight.
The hundreds of people in the audience burst into applause, jumping to their feet and whistling and clapping at the closer. Lily’s heart soars in her chest as she watches Emma hang her head in defeat and hears the umpire announce her victory.
“Come on!” Lily’s voice tears out of her throat, rising over the crowd and reverberating throughout her dominion.
yes, it will be entirely in lily’s perspective. yes, it will be jegulily endgame. yes, i had to look up everything about tennis because i know nothing. no, i have not actually seen challengers yet.
also i have seen that there is a jegulily challengers au already. i haven’t read much of it because i don’t want the movie to be completely spoiled for me, but from what i read it was great! just want to acknowledge that so no one thinks i’m stealing or something!
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kay-elle-cee · 1 year
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@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 8 || 806 Words || Read on Ao3 —
“If you say ‘Uranus’ one more time, I swear to God—”
“It’s Mercury. Mercury is closest to the sun, it has to be the hottest.”
“Is it a trick question, though? Like, what about the gas planets?”
“We need to write something down quick, she’s about ready to move on.” James taps the pencil to the little sheet of paper as he looks around at the team he, Remus, and Sirius had assembled in The Corner Pub for tonight’s trivia match. Arguments had been had in excess tonight and it was only the third of six rounds. Unfortunately he was no help with this question—he bloody hated space.
“Put Venus.”
His head whips to the side where the redhead of the trio of girls they’d blended with—Lily, he thinks—is sipping her water and watching the rest of the team delve into chaos. 
“You sure about that?”
“70%,” she shrugs. “They’re not getting any closer, though. I feel like we need an executive decision, and I had an astronomy phase in second form.
James nods. “Right you are,” he agrees, writing in Venus on the line in cramped handwriting just as the Quizmaster begins reading the next question. The other four members of the group look at him with alarm as they whisper over each other.
“Wait what did you put?”
“You put Mercury, right?”
“Mars is always associated with fire and war, I think it’s Mars.”
Lily shushes them with a flailing hand, eyes in rapt attention on the Quizmaster, and James feels a smile tug at his lips. They hadn’t really all gotten a chance to get to know one another before the game started, only exchanging brief introductions when each team of three was told it was a four-person-per-team minimum and the boys were forced to abdicate their usual booth to join the girls at a larger table. (“Pete and his ruddy date night,” Sirius had lamented.) James had been irritated with their missing friend as well—for all of six seconds before he was seated next to the gorgeous woman beside him.
He had been immediately struck by the fierce competitiveness he saw gleaming in bright green eyes, the smattering of freckles along her vibrant hairline, and the fact that she had also abstained from any alcohol. (“To keep the mind sharp,” she had said. “I’ll drink when we win.”)
The Quizmaster’s voice fills the pub. “According to The Hollywood Reporter, this hit 1980 movie—a sequel in a long-running franchise—has one of the most misquoted movie lines of all time. Please give us the correct line.”
The teams around them immediately begin whispering as the Quizmaster repeats the question and starts the timer. A surge of satisfaction rushes through James and he picks up the pencil, beginning to fill in the answer.
“Whoa, we need to discuss.”
His eyes flick up to see Lily and her friends furrowing their brows at him, Sirius sipping his drink, and Remus with a knowing smirk. 
“It’s The Empire Strikes Back,” he blinks.
“1980 was a big year for movies…let’s pause and think about it.”
“It’s Star Wars,” Remus nods from his right. 
“If there’s one thing James is going to be absolutely certain about, it’s bloody Star Wars.”
“Go on, then,” Lily’s saying, nudging his arm with her elbow. “What’s the line?”
Feeling his cheeks flush a bit, he leans towards the center of the table, urging the other five to do the same. Taking care to lower his voice, he explains. “It’s not ‘Luke, I am your father.’ It’s ‘No, I am your father.’”
“A huge pet peeve of his,” Sirius chuckles, taking a swig of his drink and causing James to narrow his eyes.
“Alright, do we agree, at least?”
The crowd nods and goes back to some light chatter—it sounds to James that some are still debating past answers as he lowers his head and brings the pencil to the paper again.
“So you’re more than just the scribe of the group.” His attention is drawn once again by Lily to his left—her mouth curved into a smile, her eyebrows raised high above eyes that sparkle with amusement. “You might just be…our only hope.”
A bashful smile breaks across his face. “Fuck you,” he laughs, dipping his head again to write down the answer, now with the group’s blessing.
“Would you?”
His hand freezes and his eyes dart to her in shock, unsure if this is a lark or if she’s being serious.
Her cheeks are red but her bright eyes are glued to his, and she takes a sip of her water with a playful shrug. James doesn’t even register that the next question has been read out until Sirius’ indignant shout breaks him from his own personal life-changing experience.
“What the fuck does she mean ‘What is the rarest M&M color’?”
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raddocwrites · 10 months
Text
SNW drabbles
Little is, as little does
Chapels eyes widened in surprise and she quickly looked towards Mbenga. His shock was a mirror to her own. She took a hesitant step forward but stopped as…baby spock held up his hand. chapel didn’t have much experience with kids. Anyone under the age of ten seemed like a baby to her.
“Do not approach any further,” he advised. His voice was high and surprisingly musical. His typical bowl cut was sticking up slightly and his ears were way too big for his face. chapel couldn’t help but grin at how adorable he was.
Chapel stopped and nodded at the serious child. Mbenga held up his hands in surrender and dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Is that you, spock” the doctor asked quietly.
The young boy blinked and appeared somewhat surprised. “You know me?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
“Of course,” Mbenga said gently. He took a tiny step forward, his hands out. A tricorder smacking into his temple made him stop abruptly.
Chapels eyes flicked to Mbenga, who was unhurt just somewhat startled, then moved to the tiny, furious figure who had thrown the instrument. Lt noonien singh was practically drowning in her uniform but she had her feet planted and her arm poised to throw again. Her signature dark braids also looked way too big for her. Chapel bit the inside of her lip. If she had thought the Lt was tiny before…baby la’an was almost too cute to handle.
But also dangerous, chapel reminded herself as little la’ans hand tightened on the object she had in her fist. Ensign nyota uhura cried and clung onto la’ans leg. The harder nyota cried the more agitated la’an appeared.
“You have upset my sisters,” spock stated, unhelpfully pointing out the obvious. But, also, as if he wasn’t responsible for any repercussions that might occur as a result; aka whatever la’an might do.
Chapel and mbegna raised eyebrows at each other and the corners of chapels mouth twitched. Sisters? What was going on?
Thankfully, the sickbay doors whooshed open and captain pike and first officer una chin riley hurried in, their faces tight with worry. They both stopped, shocked. “What…is going on?” the captain asked, flabbergasted.
Mgenga held out the tricorder and scanned the three diminutive figures in front of him. “It appears as though-“ An expertly thrown combadge knocked the device from his hands.
“My sister does not appreciate scans,” spock informed them.
Mbenga stood still for a moment then turned towards his commanding officers, tucking his hands behind his back. “Best guess-“
“Best guess,” chapel cut in for him. “Some weird space stuff messed with their cellular DNA and now three of our bridge officers are babies.”
“Five,” Mbenga corrected.
“What?” chapel asked, confused.
“They are not babies, they are about four to five years old. Physically at least.”
The captain blinked and una tilted her head taking this in. “And what about mentally?” number one asked.
“Our auditory processors are still functional,” that small, musical voice interrupted indignantly.
They all turned to look at baby spock. He had what could only be described as a petulant expression on his face. He looked over his shoulder for support. Little la’an didn’t respond; she still stood protectively in front of uhura, watching everything with eyes that never stopped moving. The tiny ensign, however, nodded vigorously. She had stopped crying but still leaned heavily into la’ans leg. Her round cheeks and big eyes were overwhelmingly adorably.
“Its not nice to talk about someone behind their back,” the tiny communications officer whispered, her voice soft like honey but surprisingly rich and deep.
Mbenga just raised his eyebrows again. “That…also seems to be affected.”
Una nodded. She took in the three, tiny crewmembers…children. But her eyes snagged on la’an. She had once told the Lt she couldn’t picture her as a child. Well…she tried to swallow around her heart in her throat. “La’an,” she breathed.
La’an stiffened and held tighter onto the tiny figure half hiding behind her leg.
“You know us?” spocks small voice asked.
The captain took a small step forward. “Of course we know you, spock.” His voice was earnest, almost pleading.
Spocks eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly as if confused. “I feel as though I should know you. But I do not.”
“We are here to help you,” captain explained. “There…was an accident.”
“What sort of accident?” small spock asked dubiously.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” chapel said brightly as she held up the appropriately sized outfits she had replicated. “How about we get you guys into something more comfortable, hm?”
Uhura tugged at the giant uniform practically falling off her with an impressive frown. She nodded eagerly. Little la’an seemed more skeptical but said nothing, so spock allowed the nurse to approach. He took the offered tshirt and gym shorts reluctantly. Uhura finally moved from behind la’an and stepped forward, nearly tripped, then more gingerly advanced to take her new clothes.
Little la’an watched this from beneath her lashes. When chapel turned and walked towards her, the little girls eyes flashed with panic. She barred her teeth and tried to move backwards. The uniform tangled around her small legs and she tripped. She landed hard and wrapped her arms over her head and curled into the tiniest ball like she expected to be attacked at any second.
Spock dropped his shorts and ran in front of chapel. He held out the flat of his palm in a stop gesture. Uhura was instantly there as well, looking frantically between la’an trembling on the floor and the adults in the room. Her bottom lip quivered.
Una quickly moved forward. Her heart tore seeing little la’an so scared. She barely noticed spock assess her, then let her pass. All she had eyes for was the tiny girl grinding her teeth, waiting for monsters to claw into her skin. Because she fell. Because she was weak. Because she wasn’t perfect.
Una dropped to her knees. “La’an,” she called out softly. She placed a gentle hand on the small girls back and started to rub slow, soothing circles.
The girl jumped at the touch. “La’an,” una whispered again. “You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you. Rember. You don’t have to be brave anymore.”
Una kept rubbing la’ans back gently and searched for the dark eyes she knew so well. But la’an had her face buried, her eyes screwed shut and hidden away. If the monsters cant see you they cant kill you, right?
Finally, the little girl opened her eyes and she saw una. Her face rippled and seemed to break open. Una instinctively held out her arms and little la’an launched into them. She wrapped her tiny arms around unas neck and squeezed her legs around unas waist as hard as she could. She buried her small face into the crook of unas neck and stayed there, shivering violently.
Una cradled la’an safely against her chest, still rubbing the little girls back. She swayed them gently side to side. For a moment, weirdly, una thought everything felt right in the world.
Chapel breathed out a sigh of relief. She had been tempted to move spock and nyota away just in case la’an reacted violently. She didn’t think the little girl would hurt them. On purpose. But the walls the Lt clearly lived with everyday, didn’t seems to exist for the tiny version of herself. Chapel felt her heart break a little bit at that thought and at the sight of baby la’an quivering in unas arms.
Spock appeared at chapels elbow, dressed in gym shorts and the tiny tshirt with USS Prise written on it. Nyota had also donned her tshrit and mesh shorts and looked much happier to be able to move freely. Indeed, chapel thought as she watched nyotas eyes dance around sickbay, she was going to be a handful, chapel could tell. (One handful could always recognize another). The little girl may have been crying earlier but now that the fear and excitement had abated, nyota was as smiley as curious as ever.
Captain pike and Dr Mbenga joined nurse chapel and the two tiny crew members. Una still held la’an in her arms on the floor.
“Whats next?” baby spock asked with an impressive eyebrow arch. Chapel raised her own eyebrows. What indeed?
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vance-e · 2 years
Note
Hey! Can I request a Robin Arellano x little brother reader (platonic ofc) where Robin is teaching the reader how to fight? Also can this be an au where the grabber doesn’t kidnap Robin or Finney, só instead it’s just someone else? (If you’re confused abt what age the reader should be just make it around Gwen’s age like 10-11) And PLEASE don’t rush, take your time. If you don’t feel like writing this request then it’s fine! Thank you!
OMG i love this, im def gonna do this. I literally wrote the whole thing down and it didn't save!! so i'm doing it again!. and sorry guys i haven't been active in 2 months but i've been really busy with school, home and other stuff so i really hope you guys like this!
pairings: robin arellano x little brother (platonic)
characters: finney blake, robin arellano, (name) arellano, OC: lucas williams, brad pitcher, thomas clarke
warnings: robin teaching (name) how to fight, (name) getting bullied but absolutely destroying them, kidnappings, reader is 10 and robin is 13, finney is 13, fluff, angst?, little bit of swearing
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not owned by me >>> happy-xy
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(name) loved his older brother very much, but what (name) was hiding from his brother was that he was getting bullied. He didn't want his brother getting expelled so he kept it to himself thinking it would go away.
But i didn't it just kept going and going that (name) was showing up at home all bloodied and bruised up. Robin asked him so many times but (name) didn't say anything. So robin had a plan, teach (name) how to fight his bullies off.
"take a fast step forward, step back and swing" robin said to hit little brother, showing him with an old telephone head. (name) tried it but almost hit himself in the eye with the cord. "watch out (name) don't want your eyes falling out" robin said laughing at his little brother.
kidnappings had been going around so that's another reason why robin is teaching (name) how to fight. last week vance hopper was kidnapped and a lot of people weren't doing anything so that's why robin wanted his little brother safe when he isn't around him.
Robin piled up clothes on the grass making it look like a punching bag. "i want you to punch this for a good 10 minutes while i got and get something and then i will teach you how to kick" robin said to his brother, asking finney to watch him for protection. " your a good brother" finney said to robin, while he was leaving. "thanks finn" robin smiled at finney, going inside to get drinks and snacks for all of them.
After robin taught (name) how to kick, he was already looking like a professional at fighting. "good job (name) robin said, high fiving his little brother while they go to sleep for school tomorrow.
The next day (name) heard his name being called out and found out it was his bullies. Lucas williams, brad pitcher and thomas clarke. They were the school's bullies but (name) felt like the only one that was getting bullied from them. "what do you want" (name) said turning around to face them "where's your lunch money, huh?" thomas said walking up to little arellano. " i don't have it today" (name) said stuttering because lucas, brad and thomas are really tall. "cmon boys" thomas said, running after (name)
(name) was running away until he was met with a wall. "we have you cornered now wimp" brad said, clicking his knuckles "oh fuck off!" (name) yelled at them. Thomas was about to punch (name) until he dodged it and punched thomas in the gut "ouchh" thomas said groaning at the impact. (name) started to kick their asses while a crowd was forming. Everybody was amazed that the school bullies were looking like scared puppies. "run away little pups" (name) said after getting off of lucas. They all scrambled to their feet pushing each other out of the way to get away.
(NAME) (NAME) (NAME) everybody was chanting.
now everybody knew not to fuck with the arellano brothers
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hope you had a great night/day/ afternoon and ill see you tomorrow xx hope you liked this fic anon and sorry it was really long!
Vance-e
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eggcompany · 5 months
Text
Jaskier and his Snuggly Wuggly Killing Machines Part 5
“I’ll show you your rooms but then it’s straight to the bath! You’ve got grass and dirt all over you! Dirty boys.” Jaskier said as he stepped up the final stair. There were five doors. One was grey, Jaskier’s bedroom. One was a clean glossy white, the bathroom. And three were plain white, the boys’ rooms. 
“Our rooms ?” Eskel said and peaked around to look at Jaskier’s face. Jaskier smiled and turned to face them when he had his hand on the first doorknob. 
“Of course darlings. Everyone deserves some privacy. I have my room, you all have your rooms. Now this is… Geralt’s.” Jaskier said as he opened up the door. The wide eyed fluffy wolf walked into his room in front of his brothers. Geralt gasped. They all stood and gawked.  The walls were a calming space blue and the floor was covered in an amazing plush carpet. There was a full sized bed covered in a big duvet that had a moon and stars pattern on it along with matching pillows, (four pillows!) and a plushie that was a cute super soft black rabbit. There was a plain blue heavy duty plastic bin in one corner and cubbies on one wall that held blue and grey bins. And finally there was a TV up on the wall. 
“Th-this i-it’s for me? Just me? You did it for me? It’s mine?” Geralt asked and started to tear up. Eskel and Lambert looked at each other. This is what Bear got? What do we get?
Geralt ran over and hugged his daddy. Jaskier smiled and hugged him back tightly. 
“Yes darling. Now you can look around while I show your brother’s theirs.” Jaskier said and pulled away from Geralt, who started to look around. At the toys in the bin, the clothes, the balls and yoga mat under the bed. Jaskier pulled the other two toward the other doors and they could hear Geralt squeal. 
“Eskel darling this is yours.” Jaskier said as he threw open the door. Lambert looked like he was attached to an electric wire, he looked so excited. 
“Oh my gods… daddy did this for me?” Eskel said quietly and walked across the squishy mats on the floor. He looked around with bright eyes and a still tail. He looked at the toy bin and started wagging a smile as it all started to set in. He bounced up and down as he looked at the pretty red pattern on his wall and the big fuzzy bed. He gasped and looked over at the only slightly full bookcase. 
Jaskeir took Lambert's hand and walked him to the last room. Lambert was purring and smiling. 
“My room! My room! It’s my room isn’t it? Is it my room, daddy? Daddy is it my room?” Lambert said quickly and excitedly. Jaskier nodded and as he opened the door Geralt walked out of his with a chew ring in his mouth and walked to Eskel’s. 
Lambert let out a loud long high pitched noise that could be a meow or a whine. He shaked and wagged and smiled and flapped his hands around while looking around. He look in the plush carpet that was almost identical to Geralt’s but was a dark green and the carpet that went up the wall and the pastel wallpaper. He wanted to jump on to the big bed that had so many colorful quilts and pillows on it but he didn’t because he’s dirty. He squealed and laughed when he noticed the scratchy poles in two of the corners and the pile of toys in the other corner. He also gasped when he noticed the TV. 
Jaskier smiled and watched the youngest discover for a while. After they had a little bit of time he stepped back and whistled, calling each boy to come out and look at him. He clapped quietly. 
“Bathtime Witchers. Shuck off and pile your dirties in this basket.” Jaskier said and stood in front of the bathroom door with one of their dirty laundry baskets.
All three smiled and pulled their clothes that the center sent them home in, plain white shirts and grey scrub like pants. Jaskier couldn’t help ogling a bit. Each of them were splattered with scars. Over their very lovely nice big huge really really perfect muscles. Jaskier looked at the scars, bite marks, cuts, broken bones maybe? There were just so many. He should ask while they were in the bath. As soon as their pants were shucked Jaskier put the basket outside the door and opened it. 
“Now, only one at a time but when you get out or before you can sit on the floor. Just sit on a towel, okay babies?” Jaskier said as he grabbed two towels and put them on the floor near the door. There was still a good four feet between the towels and the bath. The boys looked over at the caddies on the sink. And were chattering to each other and smiling and wagging with their ears high above their heads
“Those are your bathroom baskets! We can keep them here or in your rooms or wherever. I keep mine in my room. There’s a comb, a brush, soaps um.. Oh washrags and loofahs and lotions! Baby Bear, yours is the blue one. Wolfie darling yours is brown. And Kitty Dearest yours is green. Why don’t you hold onto those until it’s your turn in the bath.” Jaskier explained and watched the boys examine each item in their basket before holding them close to their chests. They all nodded and Jaskier smiled and just watched them. So beautiful. Works of nature’s true talent. 
“Okay who's up first?” Jaskier asked as he blinked and got out of his pet worship. He plopped down onto his knees on the bathmat outside the large corner bath.  He turned and flipped closed the drain and started to fill the bath with hot-ish warm water. The boys said they liked hot baths but he didn’t want to burn them. He heard whispering for a moment before Geralt stepped up and squatted down next to him. 
“I wanna get a bath first, please. Lammy wants to go last though cause he gets embarrassed.” Geralt whispered. Jaskier nodded and took Geralt’s basket and put it on the floor next to him. 
“Alright test the water and if it’s good, hop in!” Jaskier told the white haired babe. Geralt stuck his hand in the water for a moment before frowning a bit. 
“Can it be a little bit more hot?” Geralt asked and Jaskier smiled and nodded and flicked the knob over a bit more. Geralt out his hand under the faucet. “Much better! Thank you, daddy.” He said and climbed into the tub. He gasped at first and Jaskier thought he was hurt. 
“It feels so good~” Geralt moaned out and flopped over so his whole front was pressed against the bottom of the tub and his knees were bent and his feet kicked up the side. He rolled over so he was belly up. Jaskier laughed at him and he wiggled around and got all soggy. The water slowly filled until it was only about four inches from the lip on the bath. Geralt scrubbed his face and ears with the back of his hands and made his happy high noise. 
Jaskier looked back and saw that Eskel was sitting crisscross with his eyes closed and taking deep breaths and Lambert was wrapped up in his towel asleep. The steamy air felt so nice to Jaskier so it probably felt amazing to the babes. 
Jaskier grabbed the bottle of body wash and a washcloth but he soon found that the bath water was already kind of discolored. Gods bless the massive hot water heated he splurged on when he bought the house. 
“Well my stinky boy, I’m going to let the water out because you’ve already got it dirty. How about we get a nice shwoer and wash away the dirt and then we can fill the tub and I can wash your hair and do all that? Sound better?” Jaskier asked as he let the water drain. Geralt nodded. Jaskier watched him stand up. He had such broad shoulders, such a storytelling back with all those scars… Jaskier was about waist level with Geralt when he noticed something. He hadn’t yet gone through their actual medical records, just their behavior part. 
“Geralt, love, are you neutered? Is that a Geralt thing?” Jaskier asked when he noticed that yeah, there was nothing there. There was nothing behind the wolf’s phallus. He glanced back at the other two but he couldn’t see. 
Geralt got all red in the face and reached down to cup himself shyly. 
“Um.. witchers are sterile but when everyone got scared that we would um… mate...and breed, centers and pounds started to kinda make a fail safe. I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t. I think they did it to all witchers. Since we’re already sterile it didn’t make us sick or fat like other pets.” Geralt explained and hid himself from Jaskier. Jaskier listened intently and nodded. 
“Yeah and some people think it’s better to be neutered. For aesthetics so they don’t have to see it when they use you.” Lambert angrily grumbled. He sat up in his towel burrito looking disgusted and mad. 
“That’s horrible! I’m so sorry that happened. And I’m so sorry that anyone ever saw you wonderfully brilliant boys as something to be- to be used. I don’t care either way. I care more about making you happy than aesthetics.” Jaskier said. He really hated people sometimes. Geralt stood in the now empty tub, pink from the water and from being asked about his… thing. 
“Okay shower time, baby bear. Do you care if I take off my shirt?” Jaskier asked as he stood. He could practically feel two pairs of eyes blazing into his back. Geralt shrugged, “I would like it a lot” he said quietly. 
Jaskier could feel the air around his ankles shift with the obvious wagging of the two outside the bath. Jaskier smiled and nodded and pulled his shirt up and over his head and tossed it over to Lambert who immediately took it up to his face. 
Jaskier reached and turned the water to go up to the showerhead instead of the faucet. He also flicked open the drain. He took the showerhead off the wall and held it away from the baby until it was nice and hot. Then, he turned and started with Geralt’s feet. He just sprayed him down and Geralt giggled a bit cause it felt so nice! Jaskier then sprayed away the dirt and ick from his calves, then thighs, butt and bits, tummy, chest, back, and then he handed the shower to Geralt. 
“I don’t wanna waterboard you, honey tart, do you get your face and hair wet for me.” Jaskier said and Geralt sprayed himself directly in his face and then got his hair all wet and flipped his hair over so he could rinse his neck. Jaskier took a handcloth and wiped some of the splashed droplets off his chest but his chest hair was already semi wet. All the while Jaskier went and checked on Eskel by squatting down and kissing his head and asking what he was doing. 
“Meditating. The air reminds me of the hot springs in the Keep. It feels nice on my scar too… it gets dry sometimes.” Eskel admitted. Jaskier gently brought his hands slowly toward the garish mark, slow enough for Eskel to pull away or nip him or tell him no. Finally Jaskier made contact, Eskel looked like he was ready to be smacked. Jaskier touched it lightly and pouted. 
“Poor baby. I’ll order you some special balm so it won’t hurt as bad. My precious Wolfie shouldn't hurt.” Jaskier kissed his scar near his mouth and Eskel looked so pretty. His eyes looked softer than dough and they were big and round and his shoulders were relaxed. 
“Daddy, ‘m done.” Jaskier heard and turned around to a soaked witcher with hair all in his face. He had his ears drawn down so no water got in. He looked droopy but happy. Jaskier got up and came back to him. 
“Oh good job Bear! Now plop down I’ll get your hair all shiny and soft in no time. Are you doing okay?” Jaskier asked and Geralt sat down and flipped the drain shut and smiled up at his daddy. Jaskier smiled and acted like Geralt just solved world hunger. 
“Oh good job! You are so smart! So helpful! Thank you baby!” Jaskier bent and kissed his head. Geralt was glowing and he made his little happy noise. That’s when Jaskier realized he didn’t even have a cup to rinse Geralt's hair with. The shower would be much too harsh and Jaskier didn’t wanna accidentally get soap in the baby’s eyes. 
“I forgot a cup! Can you all be good boys and stay here? I need to grab a plastic cup from the kitchen. Is that okay? You can close or leave the door open, whatever you boys wanna do.” Jaskier looked around at the boys all looked at each other and nodded. 
Jaskier ran down the stairs and got a blue plastic cup that he must’ve gotten from a slushie place or something and ran back up to find all three boys giggling.  Jaskier looks at them all. Eskel having rolled over onto his back, Lambert was still burritoed in his towel and had his leg stretched out in front of him, and Geralt was laughing in the almost full tub.
“What’s going on here? Who’s being a silly goose?” Jaskier asked as he put his hands on his hips and looked at each boy with a silly face. Lambert covered his mouth and Geralt just smiled and sunk down so his mouth was underwater. That left Eskel. 
“I said you look like a badger cause you got fluff on your tummy and you got fur.” Eskel said teasingly. Like a five year old saying you’re stinky. Jaskier faked extreme insult. He gasped and put his hand on his chest and did a big turn. 
“A BADGER? I’m not a badger! Silly boy. And I don’t have fur, I just have alot of chest hair.” Jaskier said and got back to Geralt who was wagging under the water and looking up at him like a hippo. Jaskier turned the water off and tapped the top of Geralt’s head lightly. 
“C’mon you little hippo, up with you. Time to wash this beautiful hair. I’ll wash your ears first though so try and stay still.” Jaskier told him and guided Geralt until he was recinling against the tub wall and Jaskier could get to the backs and tops of his ears. He would clean the insides of their ears later or tomorrow. 
Jaskier carefully brought the cup, now full of water, up to the pretty grey and white ear. He gently pressed the back of his ear against the surface of the water. Then he grabbed the chamomile shampoo up and gently rubbed it into each ear with his thumbs. By the time he rinsed them Geralt was just jelly. Big beautiful jelly. He was purring and looked half asleep. 
Jaskier didn’t say a thing the entire time he massaged conditioner into his ears or when he scrubbed his hair twice and left the conditioner in there for a while. He didn’t say anything when he turned around and Lambert was back to sleep and Eskel was silently meditating. 
Jaskier smiled and felt his heart fill with love and the feeling of contentment. He brought the cup up and rinsed out Geralt’s long white locks, which were much whiter now that they were clean. Geralt barely stirred when Jaskier brought a soapy wash rag up to wash his arms and back or when Jaskier stretched over him to turn him so he was long ways. He watched with droopy eyes as Jaskir washed him but by the time Jask was done he was already out cold again. 
“Baby… Geralt~... Sweetheart~... Baby Bear you need to get out so Wolfie can get in. You can have a nice fluffy towel.” Jaskier whispered into Geralt's ear. The puppy just opened his eyes and stuck out his bottom lip. Jaskier didn’t budge though so Geralt sighed and stood up out of the lovely water. Jaskier brought him a towel and started to pat him dry. Jaskier put the now wet towel on the towel rack and brought Geralt a nice dry towel and let him go lay next to Lambert and doze off. Jaskier lightly touched Eskel’s hand and whispered to him. 
“Eskel honey, Bathtime darling. We can rinse in Geralt’s water and ten get you your own clean water. Come on my brilliant beautiful wolf. You can nap after.” Eskel opened his eyes and nodded. He held Jaskier’s hand and slowly got down into the tub. Jaskier grabbed Eskel’s caddy and slid Geralt’s near the towel rack for later. Jaskier got a rag and wet it in the water and rubbed at Eskel’s arms and legs and tummy and bits and back and neck. Eskel was only about half away as he realized all the water was drained and he went to stand but Jaskier settled him back down but scooted him forward so he was sitting in the middle of the tub.  
Jaskier turned on the shower and gently sprayed Eskel, avoiding his face and head. And then flicked the water back to the faucet. Jaskier was petting down Eskel's back when the babe spoke up to him. 
“Daddy, can I give you a hug? Like um uh skin to skin?” Eskel said timidly. He was really letting his walls crumble and be swept away. Jaskier smiled and pulled Eskel back to the wall of the tub by his hips. Jaskier reached over and pressed his back to Eskel’s and wrapped his arms around Eskel’s neck. Eskel relaxed and melted into the warmth of someone who loves him and the warm water that was cradling around him. 
“Of course, love. You can have as much skin to skin affections as you want. Did it make you feel better pup?” Jaskier said into the fluffy backside of Eskel’s left ear. Eskel nodded. 
“Let me get you all cleaned up and washed. I got you lavender soap so you can smell as pretty as you look. You can rest now, let daddy take care of everything.” Jaskier rubbed up and down Eskel’s scarred biceps and then leaned back. He repeated the same ear, ahir, body as he did on Geralt. He had to wake up Eskel when he was done and the eldest babe got up, got dried off, and went and woke up his baby brother. 
Lambert kept a tight grip on his towel even once he was near Jaskier. Lambert was red as a tomato but let his covering fall. Jaskier smiled and put on his least judgmental face as he let Lambert sit down in the bath. 
Jaskeir kind of understood why Lambert was so… embarrassed. He had a tattoo on his hip that symbolized his sterilization and a bite mark scar on the inside of his thigh. Is this why he was so angry about being used? Was he used at a- a fuck toy? Stay calm Jask. You can be angry when you’re alone. 
Lambert stayed alert and awake but did relax a bit once he was in fresh warm water. Lambert’s hair needed a little extra love but three washes and it was quite fluffy. Lambert looked softer now. Smaller, more innocent, younger. A baby like he really was. 
Lambert got out and wrapped himself in a nice fluffy towel
Time to wake up the other two, get some clothes on, and go get cuddles- Uh watch a movie. 
<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->
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little-corritrice · 5 months
Text
BSM Fred ~ Partner in Crime
{I hope this will make up for that awful chapter before}
Being sick was never fun, but taking care of a sick person wasn't either. Or more so of taking their job of being a prankster. Fortunately, George finally got sick, meaning Fred didn't have a partner in crime. Unfortunately, that meant I was Fred's go-to drag along for his pranks. I groaned as he barged in my room, shaking me violently. "y/n! Get up already! We're going to spend some siblings time today." He said, and I scoffed. "George is sick, isn't he?" I said, getting out of bed. "George is sick." He said, and I sighed. I went to the bathroom, throwing on some clothes and fixing my hair. As I walked out, Fred was waiting by the door, already explaining his pranks he's planned. "We are going to see George before anything." I said, going to the boy's dorm. They had their own dorm because everyone was too scared to room with them.
As we walked in, George was on the bed, snuggling into his covers. "You okay, Georgie?" I whispered, stroking his hair. "I'm fine." He mumbled, groaning as he moved an inch. I kissed his forehead, hissing at the hot touch. Mom always said the lips were the most sensitive to touch and therefore the best to check temperature. "Your burning up." I cried, going to the bathroom to get some medicine. There was a yell, and I went out to see George sitting up, while Fred was laughing. "Fred!" I yelled, pointing to the other side of the room. He only rolled his eyes, but did as told when I glared at him. I went over to George who was still sitting up. "Here. You have to take this every 4 hours." I said, and he nodded. "I'll come back in tonight, okay?" I said, and he nodded. I helped him lay down and gave his head a kiss before pulling Fred out of the room.
We walked down to the common room, seeing Seamus, Dean, Neville, and a few other students in here. "So, who's the first victim?" I asked and Fred started explaining the plan and all the people we were going to prank. "No teachers today?" I asked, and he laughed. "Those are for later tonight." He smirked and I groaned. He pulled me to the bathrooms where we set up a prank for a Ravenclaw boy. As we hid around the corner, we watched as the guy fell into the trap, and suddenly had bumps growing all over him. We smiled in victory, high-fiving each other. We ran out before we could get caught, and headed through the secret passages. It was a long walk, and we finally made it to the Hufflepuff common room where the next victim was on the couch. We kept pulling pranks all throughout the day, occasionally almost getting caught.
As we walked back into the dorm, I sighed out as we finally rested. "I'm so tired." I groaned, laying myself across the bed. Fred laughed, throwing his stuff on the desk. "We still have the teachers." He reminded me, making me groan. "I'm taking a shower. Don't sneak out on me." He glared, and I raised my hands. I went over to the bathroom, going in as he was also in there. He was barely taking off his shirt, but I didn't care. "Umm-...I'm changing?" He said, and I laughed. "You act like I care." I said, and grabbed the medicine again. He made a noise, pushing me out. I shook my head as I went to the bed where George was sleeping. I made sure to dim the lights as I shook him softly, trying not to worsen his headache. "Georgie, wake up." I called, and he whined out, mumbling something. "Georgie, come on." I whispered, and he opened his eyes.
I gave him a soft smile, moving his hair from his forehead. "Hey. You need to take some medicine." I said, and he whined. I helped him sit up, giving him the medicine along with some water. "Are you feeling any better?" I asked as I grabbed the cup, putting it on the bedside table. "A little. I got this really bad headache, and I'm sweating so much." He mumbled out, and I nodded. "You will be fine by morning." I said, laying him down. "Just get some rest." I whispered, holding his hand. "Can you stay in here tonight?" He asked, and I chuckled. "Sure, but Fred might want a cuddle buddy." I said, and he nodded. I kissed his forehead, already noticing a temperature difference. He gave me a lop-sided smile. I chuckled quietly, tucking him in. I stayed there for a little before his grip on my hand loosened. 
As I went to Fred's bed, I sighed softly. I relaxed into the bed, and slowly started becoming tired. I yawned out, shifting to get comfortable. Fred finally came out, seeing me in bed. He smiled softly, jumping in bed with me. He gave my forehead a soft kiss before he turned around, turning the light off. I scooted closer, hugging him from behind tightly. "Love you, Fred." I whispered. "I love you too, bug." He whispered back, calling me my nickname. "Thanks for always being my partner in crime when George is out." He said, turning in my arms. "You know I'd always be here for you." I said groggily. He chuckled, wrapping me in his arms tightly. "Yea, I know." He whispered before we went into a calm silence. His heartbeat was echoing in my ears, and with the content of it, I slowly fell asleep, smiling softly.
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taegularities · 2 years
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right, sorry for not mentioning things earlier 😅 so a fluff drabble for soaring high with tae, oc and jae? a day out! where jae misses oc and tries to call her with tae's phone or something lmaoo
anonymous said: bae i rlly need a drabble to see what souring high!tae is like when they’re finally alone 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️ u could literally do anything that u want !!
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fic: soaring high pairing: dilf!taehyung x reader warnings: a cute son, a cute dad, a cute relationship between said son and oc; tae loves to watch them play. he really is into oc, he just doesn’t say it smh. super sweet dilf!tae <3, explicit sexual content: fingering implied, he bends her over, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), manhandling, multiple rounds of sex implied, he’s so hungry and a beast, dom!tae, degradation; a whole lotta fluff too <3 wc: 1.5k (damn??) a/n: i thought i could merge those two requests into one !! hope that's okay and that u guys like it 🥰 if u’d like to indulge in the fluff parts only, u can totally stop reading after they drop off jae at his friend’s place. and do lmk what u think! <333 also totally unedited again, i apologise 😭 
ask my character! (no more drabble requests, please!) <3
––
The sun shines onto the park pleasantly, the sky an azure blue and busy voices sounding all around. Children are busy exploring every corner of the place; one has been chasing a squirrel for over twenty minutes, Taehyung is sure.
Except his own spawn.
Immersed in the wonders of technology, he taps around Taehyung’s phone; most of the apps don’t interest him much, too adult-y, and too colourless.
His eyes dart between various symbols, not quite sure what to settle on. He sighs, somehow focused on both exploring and rambling. Taehyung has been nodding and humming for half an hour, listening to his son’s stories about kindergarten and teasing girls.
And when the narration ends, Taehyung waits for a moment. Reckons the tale is over, that his son has vented his chest off once and for all – but when he glances over to him, looking down at his wiggling legs and content smile, he realises why silence has descended upon them.
“What... wait, what are you doing?”
The phone rings. And then, your voice chimes through. Jae knows the functions enough to apparently not just recognise the picture Taehyung set for you on his phone, but to put a call on loudspeaker, too.
“Where are you?” Jae yells, and you make a sound that indicates you’re taken aback.
Then, a giggle sounds through the phone, and you fall back into your toddler voice as you ask, “Heyyyy, Jae, how are we doing? I’m at home.”
“Can you come to the park?”
Taehyung watches with furrowed eyebrows, close to snatching the phone from his son before he sees the delight in his boy’s eyes.
“Which park, baby?” you ask, still laughing.
“Uhm... near my kindergarten.”
“Right now?”
“Please?”
“You don’t have to,” Taehyung’s voice interrupts, and Jae looks at him as though he’s noticing just now that his father is right next to him, watching him.
There’s a small pause, a chiming of keys, a hum; then, you say, “It’s okay. I’m not doing anything today anyway.”
Because who are you to deny any request the little man might have? You can’t remember ever saying no – Taehyung says you spoil him too much. You call it “making his kid love me”.
And as he wished, you find yourself in the park around twenty-five minutes later; Jae’s eyes light up – genuinely delighted. Stars in his eyes that resemble the ones in his father’s gaze.
Previously busy with digging holes in the sandbox, he gasps; runs towards you with his little yet fast feet, clinging onto you as if he didn’t see you just last weekend.
Taehyung never says much when Jae and you play around. He enjoys the scene, enjoys the way you whisper secrets into each other’s ears; or how you let him win every game of rock, paper, scissors.
How he chuckles and falls back onto the couch when you crack a stupid joke or tell him a story from work.
“I forgot the shovel,” he tells you loudly, looking at you wide wide, shocked eyes. “We can’t make a sandcastle!”
“Oh no!” you exclaim; both your gazes drift to Taehyung’s, seeking help.
“Daddy, can I go and get it?”
But his beloved father kills both your hopes with one shake of his head, wiggling a finger as he says, “You’re invited at Chae’s. Maybe she has a shovel and you can play in her garden.”
“But–”
Jae looks between you and his dad, pleading and innocent.
“You can’t let a friend wait, Jae,” Taehyung scolds, standing from the bench. The beige slacks are smooth, hugging his waist where he tucked his white shirt in. The shape of his body is so alluring – the curves, edges and bulges leave nothing to imagination.
As always.
And your insides keep buzzing. Keep twirling as you look at him. Watch him talk to Jae, smiling softly, talking to him, reprimanding him. Telling him that he’d pick him up around eight, and that he needs to behave if he wants to eat his favourite pasta dish tonight.
Before you know it, you’re left alone with the man who asked for your number after a flight months ago. The man who rearranged your insides, anything but shy, a demon and lovely father at once.
But now that you look at him, his eyes are tender. Sweet and soft, housing care for not just his son and his relationship to you, but for you as a person, too.
Taehyung’s two-story-flat isn’t too far from little Chae’s house, so you decide to walk the small distance to his place.
Being alone with Taehyung never really comes with awkwardness. It has become your own personal source of comfort; one you cherish. One you think back to when the moments are over.
“What were you doing all day?” he asks, thumbs in the pockets of his pants.
“Was just rewatching my favourite show. I’m glad you guys called.”
“Well... Jae called.”
“Yeah, technically,” you say, smiling, your steps slow and relaxed.”
“Gilmore Girls, was it?” Taehyung then guesses, squinting one eye shut in concentration.
“You remember my favourite show? That’s flattering.”
“I uh,” he starts, swallowing, “I remember your favourite dessert, too. And your favourite drink. If you want, we could...”
You wait, looking at him in anticipation; he looks sweet when he’s shy. Utterly different from when he batters your body. He licks his plush lips, and you wait some more before you ask, “Yeah?”
“If you want, we could go to my place, and... eat some dessert?”
You laugh.
You know what that means.
First he eats his favourite dessert – pretty much swallows it whole. Then he lets you eat yours.
And then, he finally opens his fridge and takes out the actual delicacy.
“You know my dearest pastime,” you tell him, and he laughs.
“Jae was missing you.”
“Although we met last week?”
“Mmmh, honestly, he can’t ever stop talking about you anyway.”
And Taehyung enjoys it. Loves to hear your name, basks in the pictures of you that his son calls forth.
“And,” he hesitates, licking his lips again, “I talk about you a lot, too.”
You almost halt in your steps; your heart falls down deep and lands in front of his feet. It does the same whenever he mumbles things like these – you might never get used to it.
“What is it that you talk about?” you ask.
“Just... I ask him what he thinks of you. Then I tell him what I think of you.”
“And what you think of me is...”
“Is for me to know and for you to find out.”
“Unfair.”
You hit his shoulder playfully right when you arrive in front of his entrance door. One hand of his holds his keys – but the other grabs your softly violent wrist, tugging your body close before he whispers, “Gonna treat you fairly to make it all good... ‘kay?”
Here he is. The beast you know.
The beast you still haven’t grown used to. The beast who pulls you inside his apartment, pushes you against the door. Growls against your skin, holding your arms over your head.
Mumbling curses against your flesh, eyes closed, groaning and lost.
He licks a trail along your neck. Tugs at your panties, shifting up your dress.
Taehyung’s slender fingers explore your shivering body, digging deep where you want him most.
“Pretty little cum dumpster,” he murmurs in between his actions; words so sore, actions so raw. “Prettiest woman in this neighbourhood.”
“Just this neighbourhood, huh?” you moan, laughing, eliciting a chuckle out of him as well.
“Just scared to use the word universe, ‘cause... you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
You want to remark something, but words die in your throat once he bends you over his desk, pushing away his books and stationery. 
His cock is throbbing, hard, slick with his own spit when he enters you caringly. A hand rests on the small of your back, the other holding your wrists under your shoulder blades.
He caresses your skin, pumps into you harshly, harder, a deep baritone assuring, “You’re the fucking best pussy I’ve ever fucked. God, I wanna... wanna–”
“Wha– what?”
“I don’t want you to be able to walk for fucking days, baby.”
He says that every time. And he keeps the promise every time.
His hand comes down to clutch the flesh of your ass tightly, slapping against it, pushing it up; and then, he repeats. Until your bottom feels bruised, aching and tingling.
Just how you like it best – he knows.
And when his thumb circles your clit, feeling your cunt clench around his veiny, thick cock, he lets go the moment you do. Synchronised, crazed, loud.
“Fuck, fuck, yeah, I–”
“Taehyung, I can’t feel... my limbs.”
Of course you can’t. His grip cuts off the bloodstream in your arms, and your legs jiggle like pudding, close to giving out.
But his arms are strong and steady. Keep you afloat, his body pressed against yours. 
He keeps you close, panting against your ears, ready for another round after your beloved dessert.
He wonders, “What do you think how many rounds we can go before I need to pick up Jae again?”
Cheeks pressed against the cold desk, you smile, readying your body for an evening of exhaustion and pleasure. Digging your nails into your palm, you wet your dry lips, open your eyes and say, “Let’s find out.”
DAMN THIS WAS........ longer than expected holy. please do let me know what u think !! <333
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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 years
Text
Always You
A Rafe Cameron Mini Series
PART ONE
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 3714
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
SERIES MASTERLIST
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            The party was in full swing. You felt out of your element. Though you were raised on the island with best of them, you never truly did fit in. Resigned to the corner of the packed room, you watched absent-mindedly as your former classmates partied around you. It was like you all were still in high school despite having graduated five years ago. It was incredibly surreal, considering. Just eight months ago you were living in the city three hours away, freshly graduated with a bachelor’s degree under your belt & living in your own apartment. You still lived there, you were just taking some time off between university & getting your career started. All for him.
            Tyson Kearney has been the most popular boy in your high school. He had also been your biggest crush. But you never let him know. What would the most popular guy in school have to do with the weird, loner girl? He had the pick of the litter, why would he have picked you? Of course, once you graduated high school, Tyson hardly every crossed your mind. He had been an adolescent crush, one that would live & die in the hallways of your high school. Yet here you were, calling yourself his girlfriend as he insisted on you coming back to your hometown to visit. You still couldn’t believe the scenario you found yourself in. You—the loneliest girl in school—attending a party with the most popular guy in school five years later. It was unimaginable. But you loved it nonetheless.
            Across the room, you watched as Tyson stood in the kitchen surrounded by friends & admirers alike. His blonde hair was kept in a low, loose bun; a few strands had slipped & brushed along the side of his face. His tanned golden skin was evident of his days spent in the sun as a surfing instructor. He had been ridiculously cute in high school, but now, five years later, he only grew to be more handsome, charming. And he was…yours. You couldn’t believe it. All it took was posting a thirst trap on your story & Tyson slid on through. Initially, it had begun strictly sexual. After explicitly flirting with each other for three months, Tyson had offered to drive to the city to see you, or rather, fuck you. You were driving each other crazy with the nudes being sent back & forth & messages that gave great detail as to what you each wanted to do to the other. Boy, did he come through.
            You had had plenty of sex & had a number of sexual partners since moving away from the island, but never had any of those encounters been as gratifying as sex with Tyson Kearney surprised you to be. Before you knew it, Tyson & you were making plans left & right for him to come see you in the city to roll around in your sheets. You were in absolute bliss. And shock. Even now, you still found yourself in disbelief that you & Tyson were together. Eventually the amazing sex had led to feelings being caught & after sleeping together for three months, you confessed to Tyson that you wanted more. To your surprise, he felt the same.
            So, here you were, back in your home town for the summer, at a mansion party—like the ones you never got invited to in high school—watching your boyfriend make a group of people laugh as he stood in the center of them. The second you walked through the front door this evening, you had easily resorted to being the quiet loner girl that you knew yourself to be in high school, but you didn’t mind. At the age of 23, the things that bothered you about yourself in high school didn’t hit the same now. You enjoyed your solitude. You enjoyed even more watching someone who you could potentially love one day, be the exact opposite of you & not feel any discomfort. You were happy with him.
            The red solo cup in your hand felt light though. You glanced down, surveying that you had only a few sips left of the cheap beer. Tossing the rest back, you threw it in a nearby trash before making a break for the nearest exit. You were craving a smoke—a habit you picked up in high school on the days when you had no one to talk to. Cigarettes always listened. Before you slid out the back door, you felt Tyson’s stare & glanced over your shoulder. He raised his brows in concern but you smiled, shaking your head once, letting him know you were okay. He smirked that half-smile of his you adored then slipped out.
            Summer nights on the east coast were, without a doubt, the best. You loved the city, & couldn’t ever imagine moving back to the island, but these summer nights sure made you feel at peace mixed with a tinge of nostalgia. Descending the stairs from the back patio, you reached the bottom & made your way toward the ocean. Once on the beach, you could still hear the party happening behind you. You took a moment to be grateful for being at a party with Tyson—something you often fantasized about in high school—then pulled out your pack of smokes. You’d always need your moments to yourself though, no matter who you were with or where you were, your alone time mattered.
            The drags of the nicotine calmed the nerves that had built up steadily throughout the evening. Sure, you were unbothered being at a party surrounded by your former peers, but still, the social anxiety you never outgrew. The sun had set not long ago, so the sky was still a soft blue but it’d be dark in no time. You resolved you’d stay out on the beach till then. Just a little time to yourself.
            After snuffing out your second cigarette, you heard the sound of footfalls behind you. A small smile graced your lips, knowing Tyson would come looking for you eventually. He continued to surprise you in your newfound relationship. You couldn’t separate your idealized version of Tyson from high school to the Tyson you were dating now. It’s why you often found yourself referring to him with both his first & last name, like he was a celebrity or household name. On the island, he surely was. But as you two grew closer, you learned he too needed moments of peace when surrounded by friends. It pleased you that he would follow you out, choosing you over his small island fame.
            “Got a smoke I can bum?” The footfalls stopped beside you & were followed by a voice that did not belong to Tyson. Craning your head upwards, you followed the length of the guy before to his face. For a moment you didn’t recognize him, other than of course that he was clearly a Kook like the rest of em. His narrowed blue eyes peered into your own. Dropping your gaze, you fingered a cigarette out of your pack before raising for him to take. You felt uncomfortable. You weren’t sure why. Of course, you could’ve guessed it was because it was a stranger & never did well with new people but there was something else, something more that you couldn’t place your finger on.
            “A light?” He asked further. Leaning slightly back, your heels digging into the sand to find your center balance, you dug out your matchbook from your skirt pocket. Handing it to him, you didn’t miss the judgment in his raised brows as he slipped the matches from your fingers. The feel of his skin against yours made your body erupt with goosebumps. The dirty blonde struck a match, bringing the light to the end of the cigarette. The fire cast a focused light across his features. As he inhaled deeply, the cherry end burning bright, his eyes fell to yours. Your lips parted. You remembered him. How could you forget?
            “You were always so desperate to be different from the rest of us.” Rafe spoke down to you as he dropped the matches into your lap. Ignoring his comment, knowing he was looking to get under your skin, you raised to your feet, brushing the sand off your skirt. You went to pass him when he stepped in your way. “What? No ‘hey Rafe, been a while. Lookin’ good, great party, thanks for the invite.”
            “I didn’t know it was your party or else I wouldn’t have come.”
            Rafe exhaled, a cloud of smoke appearing before a knowing smirk, “We both know that’s bullshit. Why you’re Tyson Kearney’s girl. Anywhere he goes, you go.”
            “Whatever.” You murmur, tucking your hands into your denim jacket, “Move.”
            Rafe took another drag, his eyes trailing the length of you. You felt yourself shifting under his unwavering gaze. You hated the way he looked at you, the way he always looked at you. While high school had passed by relatively smooth thanks to your anonymity, there had always been one person that would go out of his way to notice you. Rafe Cameron was the main cause behind any unhappy memories from your time in those hallways. There weren’t many; it wasn’t like he would seek you out every day, but at least a few times a year would he find a way to corner & humiliate you.
            Despite his unwelcome attention though, he never did it in front of others. It was like he saved his torture of you solely for himself. Perhaps if others could have seen how cruel he could be they would’ve said something but would they have? You didn’t think as much. He was the Kook King of the island, after all. He was also your boyfriend’s former best friend. The two of them were tight as hell in high school, hardly ever separated, except for when Rafe would seek you out. But after high school, the two grew apart. At least that’s what Tyson told you. Tyson was ready to grow up but Rafe only wanted to party. You could see now that that hadn’t changed much in the five years since you last saw him.
            “Does Tyson know? Is that why you wouldn’t have come?” Rafe questions, smoke spilling from his lips as he asked. You knew what he was referring to. Your stomach churned at the thought, having wiped your memory clean of that night. Until now.
            You never told Tyson about Rafe’s secret harassment of you in high school. You hadn’t seen the point. Maybe if he & Rafe were still friends when you two started dating you would’ve said something but that hadn’t been the case. Yet here you are. Part of you knew though that even if they were friends like they had been before the likelihood of you telling him was still low. You didn’t want anyone to know about it. Your crush on Tyson, your loneliness, Rafe’s torture…it all died in the hallways the second you graduated. You didn’t want to remember.
            “He doesn’t.” Rafe stepped forward, intentionally blowing smoke in your face. You wouldn’t give him what he was looking for. You weren’t the same girl he picked on. Standing your ground, you glared hotly at him, “I’m not scared of you anymore, Cameron. So this intimidation tactic you’re going for isn’t going to work. Grow up.”
            Shouldering him out of your way, you heard as Rafe laughed softly behind you. But he let you leave. Exhaling heavily, you released the tension that had built up in your muscles. Smiling to yourself, you were proud that you had done that. Rafe Cameron had another thing coming if he thought you were going to sit there & take it like you had years prior. Climbing the stairs back to the mansion, you slid open the door & began your search for Tyson. It was time he knew the secret you had kept hidden for so long.
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            A couple hours had passed since you returned to the party. It was a little past midnight & Tyson was well beyond drunk. His skin was flushed & his laugh was boisterous. You had yet to tell him about your encounter with Rafe, let alone your history with him. But you didn’t mind. As long as you were with him Rafe wouldn’t come for you. It’s not that you thought he would but you feared he’d be intrigued by your change, your growth. Rafe, as far as you knew, like to exert his energy on the weak. You refused to be weak again. You weren’t the sad 17 year old anymore. Tyson was seated next to you on a couch, his hand resting on your thigh, as he was deep in conversation with two other people. You recognized them as people in Tyson’s circle but haven’t had much chance to get to know them on a more personal level.
            “There she is!” A voice hollered out, drawing the attention of almost everyone in the room despite the music being louder than hell. Much to your distaste, the shout had came from the host himself. Rafe grinned devilishly as a girl appeared before him. He pulled into his chest, hugging her. Her back was to you so you didn’t know who she was, but if she was this comfortable with Rafe Cameron you didn’t trust she was someone you’d like anyway. Rafe kissed the top of her head, his eyes briefly contacting yours. A jolt of electricity shot through you. The moment was short-lived. His eyes were already returned to the girl he had just been hugging. You watched in reluctant curiosity as he leaned down to whisper something in the girls ear. Then his eyes found yours again before falling to Tyson.
            You were beginning to question what the hell he was up to when the girl turned around. It felt like a punch to the gut when she turned around. Like Rafe, you had forgotten about her, too. Bridgette Hayworth. The most popular girl in school. & Tyson’s ex-girlfriend. Her gray eyes hardly skimmed you before they landed on your boyfriend. Instinct had your hand falling to his that held your thigh, gripping it tightly. The action drew his attention. In your peripheral, you felt Tyson look at you. But he must’ve seen the look of discomfort on your face as he followed your line of sight until falling onto Bridgette.
            Of course she remained beautiful. Five years later & she was glowing. Her long dark hair had become shinier & her skin softer looking. She knew what she looked like & she took great pride in it. She wasn’t considered a mean girl in school but she wasn’t considered nice either. If anything, she simply decided if you were worth her time & if you weren’t then you were just ignored. But still. Her decision to resign a majority of the student body to not being good enough for her left quite a sting among your classmates.
            “Bridgette.” Tyson’s voice flattens at her presence. From what you knew, the two of them had only split a couple months before you & him started talking. Even worse, it wasn’t him who did the dumping. Sure, he was with you now, & even now you could tell he wanted nothing to do with his ex as she strode across the room towards the two of you, but still. She had dumped him. Almost seven years down the drain. He had been in love with her, positive he was the one, he told you as such. But he had also made it clear that he wanted you, only you. Yet there you were, sitting uncomfortably as your boyfriend’s ex approached him.
            “Tyson!” Bridgette bent at the waist to wrap her arms around Tysons shoulder in an awkward hug. Tyson seemingly sobered up instantly. To your annoyance, Tyson let go of your thigh but the feeling was quickly squashed as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to push her away, “What the hell are you doing?”
            Bridgette feigned hurt, her lower lip slightly puckering at his response, “It’s just a friendly hug.”
            Tyson sighed exasperated at her, standing to his full height. Turning his back on her, you contained your smile as he focused his attention on you, holding out his hand, “Let’s get outta here.”
            Placing your hand in his, you nodded once, “Lead the way.”
            The two of you barely made it to the top of the stairs when Bridgette called after Tyson, “Wait, Tyson. Please. Just give me five minutes.” Tyson paused the two of you. You gripped his hand tightly, watching as an onslaught of emotions flashed through his eyes. He turned to look Bridgette in the eye, “You said everything you needed to say a year ago, B.”
            The nickname, which you imaged to have been used affectionately in the past, was filled with ache as he said it. “There’s nothing more to say.”
            “Yes, there is.” She challenged, stepping forward to place her hand on his forearm, completely ignoring your existence, “I just want to apologize. That’s all. I promise. Tyson…” Her eyes grew wet. You couldn’t help when your lips parted in shock. She’s really pulling all the stops to get her way. Part of you wanted to yank on Tyson, or even leave yourself knowing he’d follow right behind you if you lead, but would she give up? You knew she wouldn’t. Knowing you may regret it, especially since her arrival was likely due to the workings of one Rafe Cameron, you let go of Tyson’s hand, instead placing it on his lower back.
            “Go ahead.” You say softly, forcing Tyson to glance down at you in confusion, “What?”
            “She’s not gonna let it go.” You intended to say it so only he could hear you but she was standing too close. You felt her eyes glare at you but ignored it, instead focusing on your boyfriend. “Just talk to her. I can wait. Five minutes, okay?”
            Tyson searched your eyes, like he was pleading for you to change your mind, but you didn’t want to play whatever game it was Rafe was masterminding. Besides, in the end, this may be good for Tyson to get some closure from Bridgette. “You’re sure?”
            “No.” You said half-heartedly, “But I still think you should hear her out.”
            Tyson’s eyes fell to floor. You felt unnerved as you watched the resolve come over him. He nodded once, eyes meeting yours, “Five minutes.” Reaching into his board shorts pocket, he handed you the keys to his truck, “I’ll be out shortly.”
            Biting your lip, you watched as Tyson lead Bridgette to the sliding back door. Once they disappeared from sight, it was only then that you noticed that everyone in the room had watched the whole interaction. Suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, much more than you had been only moments before, you spun on your heel & descended the wooden staircase. Shoving open the front door to the massive beach house, you sped walk away from the property, walking alongside the lengthy driveway until you reached Tyson’s truck.
            Throwing open the driver side door, you hopped in, thrusting the key in the ignition, revving up the engine. As the headlights beamed, you gasped in shock as a figure stood before the truck. Rafe Cameron stood casually, his hands in his pockets as he smirked knowingly at you, “Running away again?”
            A sudden fit of rage flooded through you at the sight of Rafe standing before you. You were almost tempting to shift the gear into drive & run him over but held back. Pressing your lips together, you found yourself throwing back open the driver’s side door, marching up to the smug Kook shithead.
            “What the hell is your game plan?” You raise your voice as your approach him, “Huh? What’s your problem?” You shoved him & felt victorious as he stumbled slightly, apparently not expecting you to use physical force. But after all the shit he put you through in school, this little amount is well-deserved.
            “I figured a happy reunion was owed.” Rafe responded arrogantly, “First, me & you. Then Tyson & Bridge. Happy faces all around.”
            “You’re pathetic.” You spit, crossing your arms against your chest, “The only one smiling here is you.”
            Rafe half smiled, his eyes contemplating your words, “I suppose you’re right. But I guess it’s only my smile that matters.”
            “Why?” When he doesn’t respond, only trailing his eyes over you, you felt your skin crawling, causing you great frustration, “Why, Rafe?”
            “Ahh, it’s been so long.” Rafe licks his lips. “Say it again.” He’s no longer smiling but his lips are parted, eyes hooded as he peers at you, like a predator that just set its sight on its prey. You know the look well. One that often appeared before he struck. Inhaling sharply, your instincts from years ago kicked in & you rotated as fast as you could, aiming for the driver’s side door. But before you could confine yourself to the safety of a door lock, you felt a hand in the back of your hair.
            Rafe used his body to maneuver you against the side of the truck, his hand never leaving your hair. The steel of the truck dug into your spine & you hissed, trying to find relief. Your hands were grasping the single one of Rafe’s that held your hair, trying to get him to loosen his grip but with no luck.  His other hand harshly gripped your chin, forcing your face upwards so he could stare down at you.
            “What the hell do you want, Rafe?” You squeaked out when he dug his fingers into your cheeks.
            “You,” He said your name, & closed his eyes momentarily, like he was savoring the taste of it on his tongue. When his eyes opened, the determination you saw behind his deep blue’s made you squirm. God, you couldn’t believe you were reliving your high school horror. Rafe pressed his body against yours & you felt your eyes blur from tears that were beginning to collect.
            “Always you.”
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Heyyo, this is the beginning of a mini series I had a sudden inspiration for. I imagine it to be maybe four or five parts. Hopefully I'll be able to update this series most regularly as a lot of my creative thoughts are surrounding it currently (but no promises).
I'm going to focusing on The Thorne next. But let me know what you think so far, please. Any & all feedback tends to kick my ass into gear better. Like, comment, reblog, ect. Talk to me. I love to hear it.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this first part so far. More to come!
oona<3
PART TWO
304 notes · View notes
anyoneseenadam · 3 years
Text
Healing
pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)
warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie
a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333
based on: this and this
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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.
You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.
When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.
Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.
By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.
When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.
The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.
If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.
Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.
Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.
That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.
During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.
You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.
“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.
“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.
“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”
“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.
“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.
“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”
“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”
“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”
“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.
“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.
“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”
He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”
“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.
“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.
“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.
“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.
“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.
Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.
After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.
Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.
And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.
You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.
But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.
In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.
He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.
When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.
You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.
Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.
“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.
“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.
“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.
“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.
“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.
“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.
“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.
“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.
“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.
Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.
Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.
You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.
Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.
You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.
“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  
“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.
“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.
“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”
You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.
“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”
“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”
“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”
“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.
“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.
“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.
“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”
You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.
The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.
Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.
“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”
You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.
When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”
“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.
“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.
“Oh did you!”  you laughed.
“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”
“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.
“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.
When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.
Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.
You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.
“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”
He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.
“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.
“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.
“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.
“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.
“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.
You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.
I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.
Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.
Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.
Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.
He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.
Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.
You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.
“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”
He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.
“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.
“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.
“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.
“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.
“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.
“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.
“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.
“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.
“And were any of them your mate?”
“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.
“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”
“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.
“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.
“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.
“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.
“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.
“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.
The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.
“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.
“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.
He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.
One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.
He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.
“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”
You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”
“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.
“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.
“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.
“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.
“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.
“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.
“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.
“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.
He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.
And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.
“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.
“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.
“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.
He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.
“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”
You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.
You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.
“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.
“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.
He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.
“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.
“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.
“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.
Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”
“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.
“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.
“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”
462 notes · View notes
messers-moony · 3 years
Text
So Perfect | J.P
Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader
Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 
The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do. 
Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever. 
When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n. 
Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers. 
There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it. 
The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him. 
“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place. 
She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to. 
“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”
He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly. 
“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?” 
“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”
Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”
“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”
James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl. 
He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“
“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”
James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”
He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore. 
Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that. 
Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile. 
That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow. 
When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair. 
“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”
Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”
James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair. 
As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here. 
He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way. 
“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”
Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”
“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”
“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”
James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“
“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”
“I didn’t pay for these.”
“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading. 
James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms. 
“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”
“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded. 
Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”
Harry smiled, “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together. 
“He quite likes you, I’d say.”
“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”
“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”
Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”
Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.
“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow. 
“Love you too.” 
It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it. 
James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him. 
“She’s not here, you know.”
“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”
Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”
“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door. 
“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”
“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”
Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”
“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?” 
“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.” 
James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money. 
Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t-“
“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”
Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”
“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”
Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully. 
“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom. 
“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”
Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”
“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”
He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great. 
James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something. 
Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips. 
James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”
“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”
A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”
“How’d you find out my name?”
“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”
Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”
“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”
Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly. 
“Consider it a tip.”
“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”
James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”
“Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 
“Maybe go on a date with me?” 
Y/n blushed, “A date?”
“Yeah, a date.” James muttered. 
“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”
She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly. 
She was so perfect. 
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redskull199987 · 2 years
Text
Love or Games?
Shoto Todoroki x female!reader
Word Count:1.4k
Warnings:none
Summary: In the face of the danger of the sports festival, you and shoto finally realize what you feel for each other...
Masterlist
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It was the sports festival. Of course, why not?! It had to happen here. Shoto and I would meet in battle, that was certain now.
I watched spellbound as Izuku yelled at Shoto to attack him full force, with his flamescand that's exactly what he did until Izuku lay on the floor, his bones broken.
"Oh Shoto," I muttered, looking down at him. He had burned half his tracksuit and was looking at Izuku, confused and breathing heavily.
he lifted his head and looked up at the spectators until his eyes got stuck on Me.
I nodded and jumped up. I ran down the stairs to the arena entrance.
,, Shoto?!", I yelled when I reached my destination, only to be shoved against the wall by an irascible Endeavor.
I rubbed my back and watched him storm off.
"Y/N!?", Shoto shouted and I immediately turned to him.
"Shoto!", I ran to him, a worried expression on my face, "Is everything ok?"
I put my hands on his shoulders questioningly and looked him up and down, but Shoto seemed alright.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh Shoto," I pulled him into a hug and I felt him pull me tightly against himself, burying his head in my shoulder.
I gently stroked his hair: "Everything will be fine"
"I swore to myself, Y/N," he murmured, looking up at me, "I swore I would never use my father's fire."
"Shoto", I put a hand on his cheek and forced the boy to look at me, "Like Izuku said: It's your power too, isn't it? Don't let your father dictate what you have to do. you will go your own way and this power..." I gently stroked his left shoulder, "Make it your own!"
He looked at me with big eyes. He had never opened like this to me before, although we were best friends and had both received scholarships, Shoto was rather quiet and distant.
"No one's ever said anything like that to me before" he mumbled, looking at me.
"Shoto..." I gathered my courage and leaned forward. Tentatively I kissed his cheek and then stepped back, "To a good fight"
I turned around and disappeared around the next corner, leaving a frozen and above all confused Shoto behind.
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It was time, now we would compete against each other. Shoto and I faced each other in the arena.
"Good luck," Shoto murmured, looking at me promisingly.
Midnight raised her whip and gave the signal to start.
"Here we go, Shoto Todoroki and Y/N L/N finally meet each 6in this duel. This will be a promising fight, not only because their two Quirks are evenly matched. No no, as we found out, they are also best friends and have known each other for years! This will be a battle of giants!!"
Shoto immediately attacked me with a huge wall of ice, but I used my specialty of summoning and controlling water. So I blocked the ice wall and pushed them back.
Shoto dodged and ran towards me from the left. He jumped about five meters in front of me and formed an ice avalanche behind him.
I reacted quickly and dodged to the right, but still created a protective wall of water in front of me, in which the ice fragments got stuck. The ice melted and dissolved in the water.
now was my turn to attack.
I raised my arms and meter-high waves formed next to me, just waiting for my command to dash towards Shoto.
"Now it's getting tense, will the two friends be considerate of each other or will they attack each other relentlessly!? "
I looked Shoto in the eye, he looked at the masses of water for a few seconds and then spread to the blockade. His gaze met mine and for a second I could see all the raw emotion in his eyes.
the love for his mother that had gotten him this far after everything she had done to him.
The fear he felt of becoming like his father and the hatred he felt for him.
And then I saw it, the hope.
the hope of becoming a superhero, one of the greatest of all and I remembered why Shoto was here. Why he really wanted to win.
He wanted to prove it to his father.
Shoto wanted to prove that he wasn't his father. Shoto was just himself.
and then I realized what I had to do to help my best friend. To help him be himself, even if it meant...
I lowered my arms, the waves died down.
Shoto looked at me confused, but I just smiled and started walking backwards.
,, Y/N, what are you doing!?", Shoto shouted, but I kept walking.
,, But, what is going on now!? Y/N has retreated. It seems like she wants to disqualify herself and leave the field. Apparently she wants to let her friend win. Honorable motives, but what will the heroes think of them?! "
One more step and...
"Y/N is out of bounds, Shoto wins!!", Midnight exclaimed.
I left the field with a grin and ran to the exit.
But suddenly someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back. Shoto looked at me confused: "Why did you do that?!"
,, Shoto, you can win here. You know, it could help you with anything you ever wanted. You can be an incredible superhero without your dad!"
He looked at me speechless. suddenly he came closer to me and this time Shoto was the one who kissed my cheek.
"Oh oh, what's that!? Young love!?"
We part, startled, when the arena screens suddenly showed Shoto kissing my cheek.
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks and I grabbed Shoto's arm: "Come on, you have to prepare for the final fight"
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I sat in the stands again, but this time I had to watch Shoto and Katsuki engage in a fierce battle.
I could hardly look. Katsuki challenged him more and more, he was using his entire strength.
But when Katsuki finally hollowed out the fatal final blow and Shoto suddenly extinguished his fire, my heart stopped for a moment.
When the smoke had disappeared and the aera was clear again, I saw Shoto lying the pile of debris from his ice cream, I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the exit and towards the stairs.
"Y/N, wait, you can't just-" Ochaco yelled, but I was already gone and on my way to the arena entrance.
As soon as I reached it, I squeezed past Midnight, who was trying to restrain Katsuki, and ran to Shoto.
I pulled his unconscious body from the rubble and carefully laid his head on my lap.
,, Shoto? ", I gently ran my fingers through his hair, "Shoto, please wake up!?"
He started blinking and slowly Shoto started to wake up.
He sat up and looked at me.
"Y/N, I-I'm-" he began, but I cut him off.
"Shut up," I murmured, cupping his face in my hands before pressing my lips to his. He immediately replied, wrapping his arms around me.
I could hear the audience applauding, but I didn't care. Shoto was alive and well.
slowly we parted, but Shoto didn't leave my side for one second.
I gently grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet with me. He immediately put his arm around me.
,, Shoto? "I mumbled as we left the arena to applause and cheers.
"Yes?" he smiled.
"Don't do that again"
"I can't promise anything," he grinned.
I just rolled my eyes and pulled him back to me by the collar of his jacket.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," Shoto whispered and I could feel his icy breath on my skin.
"Me too," I replied before he pulled me towards him and placed his lips on mine again.
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Text
A Mixtape For You Pt.1
Summary: Ella Barrett witnessed the past year when Will went missing. Hell, hard to avoid when Ella is the only empath of Dr. Brenners experiments. Maybe it'll give her a helping hand when it comes to understanding the new bad boy from California; Billy Hargrove.
Word Count: 3,142
Notes: First time writing Billy. Forgive me if it's a little too ooc, I'm rewatching season 2 and the last time I watched it was when it first came out. This is also starting near the beginning of the school year cause I wanna flesh out Ella since I'm starting her off in season 2 and not in season 1 where she did take part in the events. Enjoy!
Billy Hargrove x FemOC
Next Part
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"Ah, Ms. Barrett, so glad you joined us."
When Billy turned his head, up to that moment, he thought all the girls around this damn school were the same, big, poofy hair, brightly colored outfits, all the same style, but he was proven wrong when she walked in.
Long, straight and dyed pink hair sat on top of her head, her face void of any makeup that the girls seemed to cake on their faces. She wore an emerald green baggy sweater that was slightly tucked into a pair of denim shorts, a pair of black thigh high stockings that almost seemed to tease him with a sliver of her skin showing, and a pair of laced up black boots.
The girl smiled apologetically, slipping off the headphones that were attached to the walkman in her hands, "Sorry, running late."
The teacher sighed and gestured towards Billy, "Sit next to Mr. Hargrove, he will be your lab partner for the rest of the year."
Ella nodded without saying a word and adjusted her shoulder bag, walking to the empty seat next to Billy. Ella glanced, catching Billy's eyes for a quick second. She had to admit that he was attractive, no doubt about it, but with the way he smirked at her, she knew that he was like most of the boys in the hell she calls school; an asshole.
Begrudgingly she sat next to Billy at their shared lab table, placing her walkman on the surface and pulling out her notebook and pencil, focusing solely on the presentation that was being given to the class.
Of course, Ella focusing on the presentation apparently didn't sit well with the new boy that was sitting next to her, "So, who's the doll that I get to be lab partners with all year?" He whispered.
Ella raised a brow and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was smirking with those pretty lips of his, head turned to her and not even bothering to listen to the teacher. Ella didn't answer, huffing and went back to scribbling more notes on her paper.
Billy grinned. She was certainly different. Every single girl in this school was practically jumping at the chance to talk to him, hell, even stand within five feet of him, yet this mysterious, quiet girl next to him acted like he didn't even exist.
"If we're gonna be sitting next to each other all year, you could at least tell me your name. Don't wanna be calling you Barrett, unless you like 'doll'." Billy whispered again, leaning closer to Ella.
Ella paused her note taking and looked at Billy, unamused by his flirtatious nickname. Billy grinned, "You like that huh, doll?" Her eyes were a pale green… pretty.
Ella rolled her eyes and wordlessly pulled out a sheet of clean paper from her note book. No one looked over at the noise of paper tearing, Ella had a habit of pulling random sheets of paper from her notebook all through her classes.
She quickly scribbled on it and slid it to Billy, her eyes going back to the words written in chalk on the blackboards.
Billy raised a brow and slid the paper to him with his fingers. One word was written at the top with neat and small handwriting; Ella.
Billy smirked, "Ella…not much of a talker are you? Or are you too nervous to talk to me?"
Ella huffed again, a little pissed that this new boy was taking her away from one of the few classes that she actually enjoyed. She slid the paper back to her and wrote on it again. Annoyed, she slid it back to him once she was done.
Underneath her name was written; 'Nothing much to talk about. And no, I'm not nervous, I like staying quiet. Is that a problem, Hargrove?' Billy never thought a written sentence could give him so much sass.
Licking his lips, he grabbed a pencil from Ella's case that she had out, to which he was given a glare for doing. If this is how Ella wanted to play, Billy would happily play it.
He slid the paper back to her and his own handwriting was underneath Ella's. 'It's Billy. And yeah, I'd rather hear that pretty voice of yours than this stupid paper'.
Ella snorted, her lip twitching, fighting to smile. What. An. Ass.
Glancing up at the front of the class, she wrote again, not giving Billy any piece of satisfaction. Guys like Billy amused Ella. Just how self-centered can a guy get?
'Deal with it. It's paper or nothing.'
Ella hoped that would've gotten him to stop, but nope. He was fucking persistant. 'I'll get you talking soon, Ella.'
Ella looked at him, his smirk never wiped off his face and now he was biting Ella's pencil in mouth. It was hot. Fuck, it was really hot, but Ella knew it was a trick to get her hooked. To open her mouth and say his name. Too bad.
'Good luck with that.'
And with that, their little conversation on paper ended and Billy stopped any attempts to get the pink haired to talk to him. Though of course he didn't stop looking at her throughout the entire class.
She had little quirks that she did; fiddle with the chord of her headphones, itching to place the pair of headphones back over her ears, occasionally pulling at her ear lobe which had multiple piercings, playing the tiny pieces of dangling jewelry, and even ripping tiny pieces of the paper of her notebook.
She was quiet, reserved, and didn't even glance at Billy. Billy looked down at the sheet of paper and smirked at the words at the bottom. Ella was a challenge he was willing to take.
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Ella shoved her headphones back over her ears, A Hazy Shade of Winter by The Bangles blasting in her eardrums. Her favorite song.
She was thankful that chemistry was over. She loved the class though now it might has well been her new place of torture with Billy Hargrove. Stupid Billy Hargrove with his stupid, pretty face.
He even snagged the sheet of paper with their conversation and folded it into the pocket of his denim jacket. No doubt throw it in the trash or even save it to make fun of later with whatever assholes at the school he decided to become friends with.
With a sigh, Ella walked to her locker and opened it, already her mood souring. She could feel waves of jealousy crashing down on her by the time chemistry ended. Majority of the girls glaring her way, jealous that the quiet girl got to be lab partners with the new bad boy.
Ella rolled her eyes. She couldn't care less and her music washed away any feelings that were surrounding her and let her focus on her own. If she blasted her music any louder, her eardrums might've shattered, but it was necessary.
It was when a finger tapping on her shoulder was she pulled away from her world. Ella blinked and slid off her headphones, The Bangles still playing and echoing quietly from the tiny speakers.
Next to her was Tommy H. and under his arm was Carol, his girlfriend. Of course anyone with eyes would question why two of the biggest jerks and most popular ones would be seen near Ella Barrett, the quiet girl who kept to herself.
Once upon a long time ago, back in middle school she actually knew the two very well, of course, they all changed. It never stopped them from being a little insensitive to her here and there, nor did she really care. And there was only one reason why they or anyone in the school besides her brother would talk to her.
Ella raised an eyebrow at them and held her hand out, "Give it."
Tommy just snickered as he and Carol gave her each slip of paper, long lists of songs on each one, "Think you can get them done by tomorrow?"
Ella snorted, looking at the lists, "What? Think I can't?"
Carol rolled her eyes, "We wouldn't be asking if we didn't think you couldn't. You're the only one around here that can make mixtapes as good and as fast as you. We wouldn't even be talking to you if you didn't."
Ella scoffed, "Real sweet, Carol. Real sweet. Yeah, done and ready for the first period tomorrow. You know my charge, cash, no ifs, ands or buts about it. No negotiation, nothing." Ella grabbed the rest of her things for the rest of the day, and slammed her locker shut, making the couple jump, "Got it?"
Tommy nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line, "Got it, Barrett."
Ella shook her head, folding the papers and placing them into her bag. She walked away but not without hearing Carol call her a freak under her breath. Without a word, Ella just placed her headphones back on her head, ignoring them.
First Billy and now the bitchiest couple of the school, what more could happen?
Apparently a lot more. Unfortunately for Ella, Billy ended up having a good amount of classes with her. And each time she would catch him flirting with some girls and then ditch them the moment he noticed Ella was in his class.
She ignored him of course. Didn't look his way, tried blocking out his voice and even had to slap his hand away a few times when it got too close for comfort.
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Ella thought lunch was going to be her saving grace. Her brother would be there and it would be the first half hour of the day she got some peace.
"You seem happy." Her brother, her twin for that matter, Charlie sat down across from her at the lunch table. A lunch table that was always except for the two of them, save Steve and Nancy that sometimes sat down with them.
Ella glared at her brother's easy going smile. Charlie shared the same dark brown hair that Ella chose to bleach the hell out of it. It reached his shoulders and had the same pair of pale green eyes. He wore his own jean jacket that he and Ella took the time to embroidery with a bunch of designs inspired by american traditional tattoos, a plain beige t-shirt, dark denim jeans and a pair of high top nikes.
"Hardy- har- har. Tommy and Carol asked me to make mixtapes this morning after chem."
Charlie shook his head, poking at his food from the cafeteria; if you could even call it food, "What do you expect? You make kickass mixtapes like that." He snapped his fingers to emphasize Ella's speed for making mixtapes.
"Truly a gift sis." He praised, taking a bite of his food and then immediately grimacing as it coated his taste buds, "Gross."
Ella smiled, for the first time today she smiled. She took a bite of her own food, her expression mirroring her brothers, "Disgusting. Anyways, that new kid."
"Billy Hargrove?" Charlie asked, pushing away his food and opting to hold off until Ella and him got home.
Ella played with her food, pushing it around with a fork, "You met him?"
Charlie shrugged, "Saw him hanging around sports jocks and whatnot with girls practically throwing themselves at him. Seems like a dick. Why?"
"He's my lab partner for the rest of the year. I got a good portion of classes with him. And you're right. He is a dick." Ella said, bored playing with the pile of mush on her plate, "Flirting with me and shit."
Charlie snorted, "Gave him the silent treatment?"
Ella smirked a little. Her brother knew her too well, "Yeah, he didn't like it. He was a little frustrated underneath all of his bad boy persona."
"Frustrated that you didn't talk to him?"
"Mmm hmm." Ella hummed, confirming Charlie's question.
Charlie grinned, "Nice."
On the other side of the cafeteria, Billy narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting across from Ella. They were chummy. She was smiling, laughing and talking way more to this single guy more than anyone else.
"Yo, Hargrove. What you staring at?" Tommy nudged the sandy blonde with his elbow and then chuckled when he saw what Billy was looking at.
"Ella Barrett? Dude, the freak?"
Billy raised a brow and faked a grin, "What makes her a freak?"
Carol scoffed and the girls around her laughed as if it was one big inside joke, "Keeps to herself, doesn't talk to anyone but her brother, hell, she even hangs out with a group of middle school kids. Always listening to music too."
Billy raised a brow when one of the girls said something that peaked his interest. "I've seen her sneak around the school a couple times after hours."
"You gotta admit though," One of the boys spoke up at the table, "She makes killer mixtapes."
Everyone at the table begrudgingly agreed while Billy smirked a little at the tidbit of information. Even though Ella was all but dirt underneath all the popular kids shoes, they all agreed that Ella was the person everyone went to for their playlists for parties and events, and apparently even DJ'd for a few of them.
Billy turned his head and ignored them, watching as Ella grabbed all of her things, waving to who he now knew as her brother. He even smiled a little when the two of them flipped the bird at each other but with smiles gracing their faces.
Ella shook her head and threw her headphones back on, blocking out everyone around her and heading off to her next class early, wanting the day to be over already.
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Ella was thankful that the rest of her classes went off without a hitch, no Billy Hargrove to bother her… but then the last period of the day rolled around; gym.
She didn't have the class herself, but her brother did. She didn't have it that semester and she was grateful for it.
Ella scribbled in her notebook, sitting in the bleachers and leaning back against them. She had her things ready to go, but she had to wait until her brother finished for the day. And of course, Billy just had to have gym with him.
And of course Billy just had to be on the skins team.
Ella groaned under her breath as she had one of the speakers on her left ear and had the right one off so she could listen to everything going on around her.
She glanced up, her eyes starring a bit too long at Billy's bare chest and torso. It was glistening with sweat and it shined when sunlight from the windows hit it. He was built, toned muscles and all. It could make any girl swoon.
And it did. Ella rolled her eyes as she heard the gaggle of girls watching on and giggling. Most of the girls had boyfriends and they were practically drooling at the sight of Billy. Ella couldn't tell if the boys were trying to be on Billy's level or trying to one up him. Probably both.
She also couldn't avoid hearing some hushed whispers of the girls about her brother, who was on the skins team with Billy. Her brother was fit as well, he and Billy were on par with each other.
Ella could tell Billy was impressed. Charlie was just as good as him when it came to basketball, and even though Charlie and Steve Harrington were friends, he was kicking his ass.
It wasn't even until Charlie waved at Ella did Billy know she was there. Billy grinned at her and sent her a wink, causing the group of girls near Ella to glare at the pink headed girl.
Ella just smiled in amusement and shook her head, ignoring the boy and returning her brother's wave. She was there for him, not Billy fucking Hargrove.
Even with Ella ignoring all of his advances, it didn't deter him one bit. It only excited him even more. The girls in this school are easy, and Ella wasn't. How refreshing.
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"Played good out there, Barrett."
Charlie looked over as Billy took the shower next to him, turning on the water; they were the only two left in the locker rooms. Charlie rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and nodded, "Not bad yourself, Hargrove."
Billy grinned a little, starting to wash himself off, "Didn't think you were on the basketball team. You don't hang out with them."
Charlie just chuckled, "Nah, man. Stuck up, rich, assholes aren't my people. Don't need them blowing smoke up my ass."
Billy snorted at Charlie, "Can't argue with that… You're Ella's older brother right?"
Charlie paused his washing, tilting his head at Billy, "Technically Ella's older by five minutes. But yeah, I'm her brother."
Billy blinked, "Twins, huh?"
"Yeah… why? Got some interest in my sis?" Charlie asked, his grip on the washcloth tightening. Only one day in and he's already heard about his flirting. He didn't want his sister caught up in that.
Billy chuckled, ignoring Charlie's accusation, "She's my lab partner and she won't talk to me. Got any tips?"
Charlie set his washcloth on one of shower hands and finished washing off his body, "Look, man. My sister is not a big talker, never has been. Maybe, just maybe stop trying to get into her pants and maybe she'll talk to you."
With that, he turned off his shower, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around him, "Try music. It's her life. See ya around, Hargrove."
Billy watched Charlie walk off and smiled. Music, huh?
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Ella and Charlie left the school parking lot before Billy even left the locker rooms. Ella had the window of her white 1954 Mercury Monterey, ashes from her cigarette flew into the wind as she drove, "You just had to tell him."
Charlie smiled, propping his foot up and fiddling around with her radio, "Would you talk to him if he did bring up music?"
Ella took a drag of her cigarette, "Number one, he is going to bring it up at some point, and number two, no. God, why would you encourage him?"
Charlie shrugged, staying silent for a moment, "I might not be an empath like you but… I saw some things in him."
Ella stayed silent for a moment, knowing what Charlie meant, "Yeah, wanna share with the class?"
Charlie just shook his head, "He's got some walls built up in that head of his and it's for a reason. Maybe he just needs a kind heart to help him realize he doesn't need to be a dick."
His sister said nothing, sitting on his words the entire ride home. Billy Hargrove not a dick? Hard to believe.
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