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brattata · 3 years

Text

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

#ao3 crosspost #jjba x reader #jjba x reader smut #joseph joestar x reader #joseph joestar x reader smut #these tags are kinda dry but idk what else to say :/#my writing tag

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stardustedangel · 3 years

Text

Sweet As Sugar, Sweet As Can Be

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pairing || college!steve rogers x fem!reader

word count || 3.3k

summary || before you and steve head into the next semester of college, steve decides to take you to a fair to enjoy your last few blissful moments of summer

warnings || college au, fluff, established relationship, pet names (baby and sweetheart), teasing

author’s note || i cannot explain how excited i’ve been to post this hehe it was really fun to write and if this ends up being well received i’ll have more coming for college au stevie hehe <3 || gif doesn’t belong to me || you do not have any permission to re-publish, translate, or take any of my work

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The smell of sugary goods and the hot sun hitting the asphalt wafted throughout your senses once you stepped onto the fairgrounds. The sun hit your face and cast a warm glow all where it could be seen. Steve looked over at you with a sickeningly sweet smile on his face seeing your own as you looked all around you. You were beaming and your eyes gleamed at every single thing you took in. His smile only widened when he heard you let out a squeal of excitement and drag him further into the fairgrounds. “C’mon Steve! We have so much to do!”

Steve shook his head in adoration and let you drag him along. You’d been wanting to go to a fair for so long, but school had always felt like too much to take a break from and you spent the majority of the summer either with Steve in bed or out on random dates with him. He’d known you’d been wanting to go to a fair for a while so when one finally popped up in town he had no hesitation to buy tickets and take you.

Steve swore that the look on your face while he handed you the tickets was the most excited he had seen you since the two of you met, but that was quickly dispelled when the two of you finally got to the fair. Even on the car ride over your leg was bouncing in excitement and Steve's hand smoothed over your thigh trying to quell your eagerness till the two of you were finally there. Now here you were, bouncing around the fairground, trying to decide what the first thing you wanted to do was.

Steve watched your beaming smile drop into a cute pout at the overwhelming feelings of figuring out what to do. He used your joined hands to point towards an easy game that he knew you’d enjoy. It was a darts game with balloons hung on the wall. Small, plush prizes lined the stands of the game and you easily agreed when you caught sight of them.

Steve handed the boothman a couple of tickets for the two of you to play and handed you both some darts in return. You were quick to line them up, one eye closing dramatically as you aimed and threw the dart. It wasn’t hard to hit the obvious, colored balloons, but it still let pride bubble in your chest when you did. Steve was also obviously successful in his attempts though you started to poke his side trying to mess up his game which failed. You both chose two small matching bears for your prizes, Steve laughing at your comparison of him to the golden, blue eyed bear, and secured them in your bag before moving along to another game.

You caught sight of a line of crane machines, dragging Steve along by the side of his shirt when you couldn’t grasp onto his hand from the crowds of people around the two of you. He was easily able to keep sight of you with his staggering height, but he still found it endearing how you always needed to have a hand on him to make sure he was there.

You peered into the glass of the machine, looking for what prize was going to be yours by the end of this escapade. Your eyes latched onto a Hello Kitty plush, one that you wanted—no scratch that—needed. You pulled out a dollar bill and inserted it into the machine that let you have three tries. Steve’s body was pressed behind yours, one arm bracing himself on the side of the machine to hold his weight while his other rested on your hip. “What are you going for,” he asked lowly in your ear so you’d hear him.

You pointed one finger onto the glass in the direction of the plush, “The Hello Kitty one.” He nodded in understanding though you couldn’t see him and your hand returned to the joysticks so you could move the claw. You lined it up in what you thought to be the perfect spot, but soon doubted once the claw moved downwards and you saw just how far off you were. You sighed out and tried again moving the claw slightly upwards before dropping it again, but you had miscalculated how much further up you needed to go when you missed again. The pout on your face deepened and before you could move the joysticks again, Steve’s hands moved over yours. “Let me help.”

You nodded and rested your back against Steve’s chest before he moved your hands with his in a position over the plush, before dropping the claw with the press of his finger. You playfully rolled your eyes when the claw picked up the plush and moved it over towards the dispenser. The plush easily dropped down and you bent to grab it before narrowing your eyes at Steve.

“I did most of the work,” you scowled playfully, bringing the plush up towards your chest. Steve laughed and pulled the plush from your gently to put in your backpack with the previous two and put your hand in his again. “Mhm, sure, baby,” he dragged the word out as he brought your hand up to his mouth to press kisses along the back of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah smart guy. Let’s go find a game that’ll make you lose.” You stuck your tongue out at him and dragged him away from the claw machines trying to find more games you wanted to play. “Doubt we’ll find one,” Steve teased and poke at your neck making you squirm before walking alongside you.

After playing many more games, ones that Steve hadn’t lost sadly, you were craving something sweet. Walking around past loads of people eating funnel cakes or cotton candy had made your mouth water and you desperately needed something sweet. After Steve had noticed you eyeing a churro for what felt like minutes he looked around till his eyes landed on a food stall.

“Hey, baby,” Steve leaned his mouth down to whisper in your ear over the crowds of people around you, “you want a churro?” Steve nodded his head towards the food stand of sweets at your right and moved you two near it before you even answered. You still nodded your head at his question and your mouth started to salivate at the prospect of getting one of the golden treats.

Your arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and you rested your body against his as he ordered a churro for each of you. The day was starting to get cooler and you enjoyed the breeze that grazed your bare legs. Your legs followed Steve to a cool spot under an umbrella and handed you a churro. “There you go, sweetheart.”

You giggled in excitement and took the churro that he held out to you. “Thank you, Stevie.” You didn’t waste time digging into the sweet treat. The taste coated your mouth and you hummed out of delight, feeling some of your draining energy instantly come back. The cinnamon sugar stuck to the cherry lip gloss you wore for the day, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Your eyes widened when you took another bite, so confused how something as simple as a fair churro could taste as good as it did. You looked at Steve wanting to gauge this reaction to his own treat. “It’s good, right,” you asked with a sweet voice.

“It really is,” Steve let out with a light-hearted confused tone, “We should get another later before we leave.” You eagerly nodded and went to take another bite before your chin was grasped in between two of Steve’s fingers and he was bringing his face towards yours. You looked at him with confused doe eyes wondering what he was doing, and then his mouth was on yours.

Your body slipped closer to his as his lips molded over yours. The kiss was sweet in every way and when Steve’s tongue licked over your bottom lip and you quickly parted your mouth, but Steve had left you wanting for more the second he pulled away from you. Your lips tried to chase after him, wanting him to just have his mouth on a little longer, but he wouldn’t give in.

“Sorry, you had some sugar on your lips.” He pressed a chaste kiss onto your forehead before taking a bite of his churro, a smile on his lips that were quirked teasingly as he chewed.

“You’re such a tease,” you scowled and started to walk away from him to another part of the fair. He easily caught up with you, arm slinging around your shoulder and cheek resting against the crown of your head.

“So what’s next, sweetheart?”

You both continued to play games and walk around, trying different treats that piqued your interest. The two of you had also ridden on a few of the rides that the fair had to offer, realizing how bad of an idea it was after all the treats the two of you had eaten, but it was fun nevertheless. You had even managed to sneak a couple of candid photos of Steve when he wasn’t looking, making sure to remember to set one as your wallpaper once you got home. You both continued to wander around the fair, trying to find another thing to do before the two of you left for the day. The two of you had ventured into a part of the fair that wasn’t as crowded as the rest and which made Steve breathe a small sigh of relief. All day he’d seem to have been clung strictly to your side or back, not that he could necessarily complain, but it was nice for him to have his body relax into the less crowded space.

Steve fell slightly behind you, the only way the two of you had been connected was with your right arm extended behind your body to hold onto his hand as you led the way to an unknown destination. Your steps had widened and quickened once you saw a pair of friends exit a photo booth and you instantly made your way to where they had just left. The photo booth was a light lilac, metal trimming lining it with the photo and coin dispenser just on the outside. You could also see the seat from the bottom half of the short, white curtain that would be there to cover at least the upper half of whoever was inside.

“Baby, we have to do the photo booth,” you dramatically extended your words as you pulled Steve along. Steve threw his head back in a laugh, coming to your side and nudging your arm playfully. “Oh, yeah, sweetheart? We have to?”

“Sure do,” you sang out and disconnected your hands once you were at the machine. You bent at the waist slightly to look down at the coin dispenser that read the price of ‘50¢’. You hurriedly pulled out two quarters from the bag slung on your back and placed them in the dispenser before returning to your height and pulling the white curtain back. You smiled brightly at Steve and gestured to him to sit down first. “Why do I have to go in first?”

“We’re both not going to be able to fit on the seat, Stevie. Do you see how small it is?” You pointed down at the small seat that would never be big enough to fit both you and Steve. Steve tongue poked at the inside of his cheek and he nodded slowly, “Good point, sweetheart.”

Steve moved to sit in the small cramped-up space of the photo booth, one leg slightly sticking outside of the machine before he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You pulled the curtain closed and laughed at the pouty expression set on Steve's features. Your hands went to his slightly disheveled hair and pushed it back. “Cramped?” You cooed at him teasingly. “Yes,” Steve bluntly said with a frown before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and looked at the screen in front of the two of you. “Do we just press start, baby?”

You looked at the screen with the clear bold letters of ‘START’ staring back at the two of you. At the bottom, you saw that there were five pictures the booth would take “Mhm! Are you ready? It’s gonna take five of us.” Steve hummed in affirmation and your finger went to press the screen. The countdown for the first picture began with a start of five seconds.

The two of you could then see yourself on the screen when the countdown started and decided to just smile for the first photo. Pearly whites aimed towards the camera with crinkled eyes exuding how happy the two of you were today. Your arms came to wrap around Steve’s neck as your cheek was pressed into his before the photo was taken. Click!

The next one was a cheesy, silly picture. Your tongue was stuck out towards the camera as Steve did the same except for the fact that he aimed his tongue at you. You squealed and closed your eyes thinking he was going to lick you. Click!

You both were laughing and looking at each other warmly, bashing in the light atmosphere that surrounded the two of you. Before the next picture was taken Steve leaned forward and placed a kiss on your cheek and your eyes closed at the feeling. Click!

You returned the similar gesture to Steve—hands placed on both of his cheeks turning his face towards you, and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. Steve looked at you at that moment like you hung the stars yourself, always feeling so overwhelmed with the feeling of love every time you gave him an intimate gesture and treated him so gently. Click!

You gently wiped away the cherry gloss residue that stuck to his nose, laughing gently. The last picture’s countdown started when you pulled away from Steve, looking at him with gentle eyes. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist before he kissed you. This kiss compared to the one the two of you shared earlier in the day felt much different. More intimate in a way and maybe it was the setting that gave you both that feeling. Click!

It took the two of you a couple of seconds to separate after the picture was taken and when you did a warmth ran up your neck when you looked down at Steve’s swollen pink lips. Steve’s hands went up to your face to smooth a piece of hair behind your ear before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and nodding his head towards the exit. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s getting dark.”

You nodded and left his lap to pull back the curtain and get the two strips of photos that were dropped down in the dispenser. The two of you looked at them with toothy grins. You let out a small giggle before you placed the two of them in your bag for safekeeping. Your arm came wrapped around Steve’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist. You looked at his serene blue eyes and let out a small sigh. “Let’s get that churro now.”

The fair was still booming with noises and now that the sun had started to set and the day got darker, the lights of the fair were more present than ever. Games, stands, and people all around seem to glow in the darkness of the evening. You took a few more pictures—Steve had also managed to take his own candid shots of you—new churro in hand as the two of you made your way towards the exit, tired yet happily content with how today had played out.

Steve was ready to go after the amazing day the two of you had, feeling his energy drop low and ready to just sit down and relax, but his eyes quickly caught sight of a game he knew he’d be able to win for you. “Hey, baby, one more game.” He pointed at the high-striker machine and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Another game for you to win,” you prodded at him in a teasing manner laughing when he started to let out small giggles.

Steve hummed and nodded his head, “Gonna win you something, baby.”

His words let a small threaten to form on your face and after failing to conceal it Steve nudged your shoulder teasingly. “You like that idea, huh?”

“Don’t tease me. Go win the prize, strong guy.” Your finger poked at his biceps before you pushed him lightly in the direction of the game. You stood at the side, not wanting to be in the way of anyone walking but still in sight for both you and Steve to see one another.

After giving the man two tickets, he was handed a mallet and grasped onto it firmly testing its weight. Some people had gathered around to see him hit the target and while it put pressure on his shoulder he easily shook it off when he looked up at you. He tossed you a wink, wound his arm, and struck down at the target as hard as he could. Some people gasped around him watching the light of the machine travel up and up, and when the bell struck at the top some claps and cheers were heard.

Steve cheekily smiled, feeling a warmth spread across his cheeks when he finally noticed how many people had watched him. You looked at him with admiration, mouth parted at the sheer strength that Steve exuded and when he finally came over to you after picking your prize you smiled at him adorably.

“That was very impressive, baby,” you poked his chest and didn’t move away when he angled his head towards yours, pressing a kiss onto your lips and pushing the big, soft dinosaur plush into your arms. It was pastel blue and had the cutest expression on its face. Steve always knew you were a sucker for cheesy moments like this so it was no shocker that he was smirking at you, pride and adoration seeing through his chest seeing you let out a toothy grin. He wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you closely into him, and finally walked out of the fair. “All for you, sweetheart.”

You both had made it back to Steve's car, ready to go home as the sun had finally set and the two of you had exerted all the energy that you could today. You leaned against the passenger door, plush in your arms and Steve leaned over you.

“Thank you for today,” you said genuinely with a grateful smile on your face, “it was sweet that you brought me here, and nice to spend more time with you, especially because school is starting up soon.”

Steve laughed and shook his head, “Ugh, don’t remind me.” You laughed and closed your eyes when you started to feel Steve’s face get closer to yours, lips firmly pressing to yours as you were pressed into the car by his hips. You melted into the dreamy kiss, warmth coating your body even though the cold of the evening ghosted past your body eliciting goosebumps that you couldn’t feel. Steve pulled away breathlessly and looked down at you endearingly, happy that he gave you a very memorable day of the summer. He pressed one more kiss to your forehead and rubbed his thumb over your hip. Steve drank you in, wanting to commit this sight and everything that had happened today to memory. “And, you’re welcome, baby. I’m happy you enjoyed it.”

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taglist || @jannqt @donutloverxo @aquariuslavenderhoney @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @strawbeariefaerie @kenzieam @animnerd @capsiclecevanss @honeychicana @la-cey @nony-bear @doozywoozy @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @white-wolf1940 @patzammit

(send me an ask if you want to be added <3)

#steve rogers college au #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #༊‧₊˚. dest writes

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thatslikely · 4 years

Text

Seeker - D.M.

Seeker- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (unspecified house but not slytherin)

Warnings: none! just lots of fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: This is my first ever fic! I hope I potray Draco accurately! Feel free to D.M. me for any requests or anything like that. I’d also really love feedback, positive or negative. Special thanks to my friend Ocean, who is an amazing author and editor <3

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name - Y/L/N is Your Last Name - Y/H is Your House

----

Draco Malfoy.

Anyone who has ever graced the steps of Hogwarts during his reign is bound to have heard the name. The poor first years hear about the hexing of their friends after so much as glancing at his striking blond hair. The second year Quidditch players hear about his skill and precision on a broom. Even the O.W.L.s-stressed fifth years hear of his (almost) unparalleled smarts.

You, of course, heard all these things too. You’d seen firsthand his occasional ruthlessness. There was no doubt in your mind he was a force to be reckoned with. You never let his daunting image intrude your thoughts, however. He would never have a reason to bother you; so why should you care what he did?

That all seemed true until Quidditch results came back for your house. Your eyes scanned over names on the list until you saw your name next to the title of Seeker. You were thrilled to be on the team. You worked so hard over the summer, waking up at dawn to fly laps around the lush forests by your home.

After everyone in the common room was informed of your new title, they all congratulated you for what seemed like hours. They all chanted “Y/N!” at the top of their lungs or gave you encouraging pats on the back. After a while of sober celebration, someone finally managed to sneak in a few bottles of Firewhiskey. You eagerly downed a shot or two before your head started to feel fuzzy. The music and chatter of the party seemed to make your head pound, and you decided you needed some fresh air to clear your head.

The moment you stepped out of the bustling common room, you felt way better. Your whole body calmed, releasing the tension you didn’t know you had. While you could still very well feel the effects of the Firewhiskey, you felt clear enough to walk all the way to the Owlery.

The Owlery had always been a place of comfort for you. You had never owned an owl for yourself, instead opting for an adorable black cat, but something about the flying creatures comforted you. Maybe it was their piercing yellow eyes or their fluffy feathers that seemed to stick out in any direction, or maybe just because they remind you of whenever your mother’s owl brings sweet letters at breakfast every month.

The air tonight was chilly, but you were simply grateful that it was too early in the year for snow because whenever Hogwarts was covered in soft white blankets, the steps up to the Owlery were dangerously icy. Thankfully, the only things on the steps were your boots and the occasional fluttering orange leaf.

Once you reached the top, you breathed a sigh of relief. The thoughts of you becoming the new Seeker came back to you and you were able to celebrate a little bit again. Before you could fully imagine yourself flying around the Quidditch pitch in search of the shiny Golden Snitch, you were interrupted suddenly by none other than Draco Malfoy’s taunting words.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Y/L/N?”

You froze. In all the times you had been to the Owlery at night, this was the first time you had company. And his company at that. His voice seemed strong and almost amused. Before you could give him a response, he kept going.

“You’re the new Y/H Seeker, aren’t you? Maybe this year I’ll have some actual competition, though I doubt it.”

You felt your face heat up in rage, a feeling you rarely expressed. The Firewhiskey must’ve brought it out of me, you thought with a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t want to say something you’d regret, especially to your new Slytherin rival.

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised, Malfoy. I’ve been training all summer.”

Draco didn’t deserve to know that you had been practicing all summer, and the summer before that, but you inexplicably felt the need to prove yourself to him. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, though.

“And I’ve been training for Quidditch since I could walk, Y/N. You’re not special.”

His comment stung a little. But you knew you deserved to be Seeker, and you could prove that to him next match.

“What brings you up here so late anyways?”

“That, Y/L/N, is none of your concern. I could, however, ask you the same thing.”

“Just getting away from the crowd is all. The Common Room’s loud as all hell.” Why did you tell him that? He didn’t need to know anything about you or your common room.

Draco pulled up the sleeve of his black blazer, presumably looking at his watch. You didn’t notice how Draco’s platinum blond hair shined so handsomely in the moonlight until he pushed himself off of the wall he was so casually leaning on to walk towards you.

“It’s past curfew, Y/N. I could so easily tell my Slytherin prefects that I found you out so late at night, especially after a loud night in the Common Room…” The smirk on his face as he looked up into your eyes was so charming but mischievous.

“You wouldn’t da-” you muttered, before quickly getting cut off.

“I won’t tell them, though, only because I plan on crushing you next game. The look on your face as I hold the Snitch will be priceless.”

You desperately tried to find some way to rebut what he said, but his words it seemed, took the air from your lungs. You watched him, stunned, as he casually handed a black envelope to what you assumed was his owl. As the owl flew out of the window and into the pitch-black sky, he walked towards the doorway, which you happened to still be standing in.

He purposely brushed your shoulder as he walked past you and down the stairs. Without even looking back, he simply said, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You stood there, almost breathless. That had quite possibly been the strangest and most unexpected interaction you’ve ever had. You’d always seen Draco as some stereotypical bully, but you never realized how truly witty and quick-on-his-feet he was. He would be a tough opponent, both on the field and off.

----

Quidditch practice these past few weeks has been very tiring but helpful. Every time you mounted your broom it made you feel that much more confident, which was good because you needed as much of that as you could get if you wanted to even stand a chance against Draco. By the time the first match came around, you felt as though you could easily beat the green-jerseyed players.

The practice room pep-talk before the game was finally the moment your confidence was cemented. As your captain stood on the bench, yelling and inspiring, you were on top of the world. You could see Malfoy zooming on his broom far behind you as you reached for the Snitch, its shiny metal now covered up with your worn leather gloves. You could hear the crowd cheering your name as Draco sat in awe of you.

That daydream was short-lived however when everyone got up from the benches to grab their brooms and fly into the stadium. As you proudly mounted your broom, a sudden spike of anxiety hit your chest. Of all the times nerves had to hit, did it have to be two seconds before the match began?

The stadium was filled to the brim with students from each of the four houses. The large pillars of red, yellow, blue, and green emitted cheers as your team glided on the field, doing a fun formation along with it. Not long after, the green and silver-clad team swooped onto the field. They flew around the oval-shaped pitch in the shape of a very coordinated V. It was more intimidating than you’d like to admit.

As the Slytherins settled down and hovered in the air, ready for the match to start, you saw Malfoy send you an intimidating glare. You rolled your eyes in return before the referee shouted a loud, “brooms up!”

With those simple two words, you darted off towards the top of the pitch. You gripped the broom as if your life depended on it, which it might. Your eyes scanned the field for any signs of the snitch before you saw a flash of blonde next to you.

“Scared, Y/L/N?” Draco spat, clearly trying to tease you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You smirked, your gaze reaching his enticing silver eyes. He cocked his eyebrow at you, playfully, before you sped off, the air from the tail of your broom blowing his pale locks over his eyes.

The Golden Snitch had caught your eye while you hovered up with Malfoy, and now you surely had the advantage. You were mere feet away from the golden snitch, with the blonde Seeker trailing behind you. The crowd sat captivated, wondering who would reach the snitch first. Just as your fingers brushed the golden sphere, it shot straight up, out of your grasp. You both wasted no time shooting upwards on your brooms. He was now at your side, both your arms reached up to the sky.

Suddenly, you felt the metal of the snitch in the palm of your gloves. But you also felt something else, and you almost fell off your broom at the sight of Draco’s fingers intertwined with yours, both of your palms wrapped around the snitch.

Without hesitation, you both recoiled from each other, your interwoven hands breaking apart, which sent the snitch flying. Your face got red and hot with embarrassment, and by the expression and color of Draco’s face, he felt the same. He managed to mime himself gagging before he swooped in the opposite direction in search of the snitch once again.

----

As you stepped through the painting guarding your common room, you could already hear the screams and cheers. Some people chanted your name, some people talked about the highlights from the match, and there was loud music blaring in the background. Your close victory that afternoon definitely produced some happy house-mates.

You weren’t in much of partying mood tonight though. The match had worn you out, and you were ready to lay down. You did have a lot to think about, after all. The way you and Draco’s hands fit together perfectly around the snitch, or the way his face contorted into a frown when the Slytherins accepted defeat. Or even the way, when your team picked you up in celebration,, a smile pricked at the sides of his mouth, barely noticeable.

You didn’t know why you couldn’t get Draco out of your mind. You guys were rivals, but the way his image played back in your mind, you didn’t feel hatred. You didn’t feel a big success by proving what he said in the Owlery wrong.

You finally came to the conclusion that maybe it was because you thought he was handsome. Just a little bit, of course. The way his blonde hair blew in the wind was attractive, sure, but you didn’t like him or anything. You’d never even talked to him before the night at the Owlery. He was just the Slytherin Seeker, as you were just the Y/H Seeker to him. Simple.

Except, you didn’t know that he also thought the same about you. The way you smiled in victory after his (very close) loss made it sting just a little bit less. The disapproving stares from his fellow green-wearing peers didn't hurt his pride as much when he remembered you two’s hands together around the snitch.

It’s only because she’s my rival, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t even fool himself with that lie. All he really knew was, he had to talk to you tomorrow.

----

“Congrats on the win yesterday, Y/N. But don’t think next time I won’t hesitate to push you off that cheap broom of yours.” Draco spat. He never really had a way with words, especially with people he took interest in. He really did try to make it as nice as he could.

You merely smirked at his comment as you sat down at your table in the Great Hall. “It’s okay, Draco. I know you just can't accept that you got beat.” He huffed a bit at your comment, but his expression quickly changed to that of a sarcastic smile.

He reached across the table and grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice, much to your surprise. Just as quickly, he sat down next to you. You finally got a good look, and smell, of him for the first time. His silver eyes and blonde hair looked as alluring as ever, and he smelled really good, like green apples and cologne.

Just as you were about to ask why he decided to sit with you, of all people, he stated, “It’s rude to stare, you know?”

“Sorry, it’s just weird seeing someone in those green robes of yours sitting at our table.” You replied sheepishly, snapping out of your trance.

He only let out a small chuckle before grabbing a green apple from the middle of the table. He gave it a small toss before looking back at you. You glanced into his eyes, which apparently you like to get lost in, but you couldn’t read what emotion ran through them.

“Why did you decide to sit here, by the way? Don’t you have some first years to hex?” You asked, partially defensive and partially curious.

Your friends, and some other fellow house-mates, all watched in anticipation for his response, but instead he said, “If my prescence bothers you that much, I can just go back to my table. My ego won’t be too hurt.” He gave his signature smirk at the end of the sentence, clearly not taking it seriously.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I don’t mind the Slytherin prince sitting at our table for one day. Two may be pushing it.” He didn’t answer your question though, about why he wanted to sit here. It did seem a little odd, but you weren’t complaining.

“Very funny. Well, I’m afraid I can’t stay much longer. I have more pressing matters, like preparing to absolutely crush you next Quidditch match.”

He left just as fast as he had come, still grasping the green apple in his hand. Once he was back to his throne at the Slytherin table, you glanced down to where he was previously sitting, only to find a shiny black envelope resting on the bench. It had your initials written down in silver ink, the same shade as his eyes. You quickly shoved it beneath your robes, so your friends wouldn’t see.

Once you were safely out of the field of vision of the Great Hall, you broke the emerald green seal of the envelope. You pulled out a crisp, white piece of parchment. Your eyes read the inked black text, which read:

That’s strange, you thought, he’s top of the class for potions. Why would he need my notes? You quickly brushed it off as you just overthinking. Clearly, he only sat at our table and wrote me this letter because of stupid Potions class. Right?

I need your Potions notes from last class. Meet me at the astronomy tower at 11.

D.M.

Eleven o’clock came around faster than you expected, and you were rushing out of your dorm in order to make it. Luckily all your dormmates were still up, gossiping the night away. Much to your surprise, they didn’t question where you were going, besides knowing that you had to give a friend some homework. You didn’t blame them, it did seem like a lame way to spend your after-curfew hours.

By the time you had finally gotten to the top, Draco stood with his back to you, his chisled hands holding onto the cold railing. You walked up to him quietly, your Potions homework fluttering in the wind. His eyes weren’t focused on you or your notes though; instead they were pointed at the crystal-clear sky. The moonlight bounced magnificently off of his platinum blonde hair once again, just like it did at the Owlery.

The air was colder than it was last time you had seen him against the inky-black sky, and you started to shiver. All you wanted was to be back within the walls of your cozy dorm. You let a signaling cough emerge from your throat as you leaned against the rail.

Instead of asking about the Potions notes, he asked, “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

His eyes still seemed glued to the shining stars, but you did notice his hand sliding down the rail, closer to you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grumbled, “Yes. I’m freezing!”

He let out a small chuckle as a response before his eyes finally moved to you. “I’ll only be a minute… unless you want to stay longer.”

Despite the uncomfortably cold temperature outside, you felt your cheeks get warmer. You kept telling yourself it was only because he did seem a bit good-looking tonight, dressed in his signature black turtleneck, with a matching long black peacoat on top. Suddenly, the cold didn’t feel so bad.

“Likely, Malfoy. Here’s the Potions notes you asked for.” You slowly handed over the ruffled papers. For a second you thought you saw a look of confusion flash onto his face, but a small grateful smile covered it up almost instantly.

You continued to shiver, and your nose started turning pink. Draco almost felt bad for dragging you up here, for the Potions notes of course, so he sent an enticing offer your way.

“You look absolutely miserable, Y/N. I think if we can sneak into the kitchens, I could make you some tea. Though I do expect a favor from you in return, of course.”

Your eyes lit up at the idea of a warm cup of tea, especially made by none other than Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be your Quidditch rival. Even you couldn’t come up with an excuse about enjoying his company this time.

----

Draco stood one of the many kitchen counters, swirling an ornate sliver spoon in your warm tea. Once it was stirred to his satisfaction, he handed the steaming cup to you with a warm and genuine smile, one rarely seen by anyone. You smiled back thankfully, before taking a large sip. The tea tasted nearly perfect, which surprised you. Someone who was raised with house elves doing everything for them had made a delicious tea.

“I must say, I’m impressed, Draco. I never pegged you to be a tea expert.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” His sarcastic and slightly cocky attitude was back once again, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

After the evidence of your late-night tea making had been erased, he leaned against the counter, a content smile on the corners of his lips. Your shivering was long gone, replaced by a cozy warmth from the tea.

Comfortable silence filled the room for many minutes before he simply said, “You know, Y/N, I’d like to get to know you better. I don’t think we have to be Quidditch rivals, off the field at least.”

“I feel the same. Though don’t get your feelings hurt when I absolutely beat you again.”

“I bet I could get the snitch years before you, with my eyes closed!”

“Like you did the other day, right?” He put up a sarcasticly angry face on, but you could see the fire of determination in his eyes. He really would try to get you next match. But you would never let him.

After a night full of talking with the dashing Slytherin, you soon grew too tired to continue. The tea must’ve made you extra sleepy because soon enough you could barely think straight. You held onto poor Draco for dear life as he carefully walked you back to your common room.

He put on his classic face of annoyance, but underneath you saw that his mind was filled with nothing but admiration. As you finally reached the painting, you withdrew your hand from his shoulder. Since you were so sleepy, he thought you wouldnt notice the loving look on his face as you walked through the doorway. You waved him goodnight.

“Night, love. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

And that was the start of something wonderful.

You can read Part 2 here!

#draco fanfiction #dating draco malfoy #draco #draco fluff #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction

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downbytheouterbanks · 4 years

Text

Happy Place (Rafe x Reader) pt.1

a/n: hi um this is my first time writing and posting anything like this so I’m sorry if this sucks, please go easy on me. also, I hate Ward and Rose but in this they are just your run of the mill white parents who are trying their best and Rafe in this is just a normal asshole who is not addicted to crack and has not committed murder or arson lol

& you can find part two here & part three here

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Your dad had finally caved, Ward Cameron, your dad’s best friend from college, convinced him to move your family to the Outer Banks. The house that you used to call home every summer was up for sale and the couple who used to rent it to you was tired of the upkeep of the property and told Ward to sell it for whatever he could. That price matched your parents’ budget so here you are, a week after finishing your junior year of high school, reunited with your happy place.

It has been about two years since the last time you were able to spend your summer on the island paradise. You had picked up a summer job and had sports tryouts with mandatory conditioning, your parents gave you the “choice” of staying home but you knew they would be disappointed in you if you gave it all up to come to the beach for the summer, so you always stayed.

The sun was beginning to set and you were ready to just unwind after unpacking all day. You picked up your yoga mat and water bottle and were heading out the door, “Hey, ma! I’m gonna head to the beach for a little while.”

“Did I work you too hard today? Need to find your zen?” She chuckled, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Love you, go relax, babe.”

“Thanks, momma. I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that you began your short walk to the beach. Not much had changed in those two years you realized as you stepped out onto the sand. Your favorite spot was still not too crowded, only a handful of people who lived in the homes around you were scattered across the beach enjoying the sunset.

You found yourself a nice spot to set down your mat, take a seat, letting your breath sync with the patterns of the crashing waves, and then beginning your yoga flow. All your senses were focused on the moment you were in, feeling the sea breeze, tasting the salty air with every breath, moving your body almost in rhythm with the waves hitting the shore, and then your eyes were opening as your moment of tranquility came to a halt as a round of flirty whistles rang through the air. You moved up and out of your downward dog position to be met with a pair of boys, about your age, clad in Vineyard Vines. They looked familiar, you thought, and then the one with dark sandy hair spoke,

“Topper, I think we got a newbie on the island, I would remember an ass like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond but then were cut off by your phone ringing. You sighed, and quickly quipped to the boys, “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” rolling your eyes, you answered your phone and turned around, gathering your things.

“Hey, sweetie,” your mom said, “the Camerons invited us over for drinks and dessert, so your father and I are going to head over there now. If you’re up to it, you should swing by!”

And with that, you walked off, catching the boy’s parting words to you, “See you around, yoga pants!”

After a quick shower and throwing on the best outfit that you could conjure from the clothes you had unpacked, you were back out your front door, throwing your wet hair up into a bun as your muscle memory carried you a block over to the Cameron residence. The property came into your sight and you didn’t know it was possible for a place to look like it hadn’t changed at all yet nothing was quite the same, at the same time.

After a hesitant knock on the door, a voice called out telling you its open and to come in. “Y/N!” Ward said as soon as you crossed the threshold, “If it weren’t for your dad posting pictures of everything you do on Facebook, I wouldn’t have even recognized you.” He embraced you in a hug and then pointed to the living room, letting you know your parents, Rose, and him were in there catching up but Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were in the backyard. You nodded and made your way to the backdoor.

As you stepped out into their yard, you immediately saw Sarah, the two of you had kept in touch, you had the 748-day streak on Snapchat to prove it. At the sound of the door closing, her head snapped up to your direction, “Y/N! You’re finally here!” You smiled and made your way down the steps to the grass where they had their game of cornhole set up, the second your feet hit the grass the two girls embraced you in a hug.

“Wheezie! Oh my god look at you! My baby is all grown up, look at this gorgeous young lady!” You exclaimed giving the girl a spin.

“Y/N?” You looked up to be met by Rafe, staring at you in shock, which you mirrored back for a split second-this was not the awkward, straggly boy you used to be taller than.

“Actually, I think you addressed me as “yoga pants” at the beach if I’m not mistaken, right?” You chuckled and raised your eyebrows, waiting for his response.

“Uh- I… I wouldn’t have said that if I recognized you.” He choked out, reaching his arm up to run his hand through his hair, making a few strands fall loose from his slicked-back locks. A laugh escapes you as you cross your arms, “Gee, Rafe, what a relief.”

“Ahem.” Sarah let out, her and Wheezie stood, awaiting an explanation.

You and Rafe shared a glance, almost asking who was going to explain, and you debated how you wanted to handle this. You were not for letting anyone off the hook when it came to misogynistic behavior, but you could deal with this in anger or you could deal with it in humility and humor. You decide to go with the second option, meeting Rafe’s uncomfortable expression with a slight smile, and then turning to Sarah and Wheezie.

“Your gentlemen of a brother over here,” you say as you reach up to pat him on the shoulder, “ran into me while I was at the beach earlier, I was doing yoga and him and his friend had some opinions about my choice in beach attire, isn’t that right, Rafe?”

You gave Sarah and Wheezie a look and Wheezie was the first one to connect the dots, “Oh, God, Rafe, what did you say to her? Oh I’m totally gonna tell Rose and she is gonna pull out her respecting women PowerPoint, again.” Wheezie began to skip away when Rafe ran over and grabbed her by her shoulders, a look of panic and desperation in his eyes, as he bent down to her level.

“Oh my God, Wheezie, please, no! You know that thing takes like an hour and a half, please, for the love of God, I am begging you!” Wheezie let out a laugh that only a mischievous younger sibling could make, “If Y/N says to back off, then I’ll back off.”

His eyes meet yours from over Wheezie’s shoulder, “Please, Y/N, I’ll owe you one, I won’t do it again, just please don’t make me sit through that again. She has a quiz at the end and everything!” You take this time to ponder if Rose made that PowerPoint for him then maybe he should sit through it.

“I’ll let it slide this time, Rafe, but you owe me a favor.” Rafe lets go of Wheezie and runs over to you, muttering “I’m sorry”s and “I promise I won’t objectify you, again” as he hugs you giving you a kiss on the cheek. You let out a laugh as he releases you from his grip, “Geeze is Rose’s presentation really that bad?”

All three of the Cameron siblings let out a “YES” and then Sarah adds, “She made it for Rafe and his friends after they got caught looking at PlayBoy magazines in his room, she even made Wheezie and I sit through it and told us that we can’t objectify boys either.” The four of you begin to make your way inside.

“You know, I like Rose even more, now.” You smile and Rafe elbows you, the two of you laugh and look at each other, he gives you an appreciative look and then asks, “So what favor do I owe you?”

“I don’t know yet but I will let you know when I figure it out.” You smile at him and he throws his arm around your shoulder as you walk inside.

#please im baby im scared of how this turned out #my writing #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #obx imagine #obx #outer banks

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anunstablefable · 3 years

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First Year Dorlene Headcanons:

Pumpkin Mistletoe originated from an old Jily comic I saw on Pinterest. Dorcas’ parents aren’t around, so she has a foster family. I can do a short story on that if you all want. lemme know

Dorcas and Marlene met on the train.

Marlene ran into Dorcas and Dorcas dropped her (huge) pile of books.

They each dropped to the floor and tried to pick up the books, their hands brushing

Both of them hide their blush and pass it off as nerves

They ended up sitting in the same compartment along with some small brunette named Alice and a curly haired girl with dimples who introduced herself as Mary.

They immediately hit it off, trade chocolate frog cards, debate over which quidditch team is better (Dorcas loves the Wimbourne Wasps, Marlene is a hardcore Puddlemere United fan).

Best friends for life

They sat together on the boats, and Marlene helped dry Dorcas off when the boat tipped and she gets wet

Marlene’s fingertips tingled with warmth when she grazed Dorcas’ hair

They find Alice and Mary, who have made friends with another girl with bright red hair that matches her red-rimmed eyes.

Lily Evans was the first of the group to get sorted

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Marlene looked over at Dorcas, who was shaking with anticipation (and was also worried she wouldn’t be in the same house as Marlene).

“Don’t worry Dory, we’ll both be put in Gryffindor, like Lily! The hat can’t separate us! Best friends, we are!”

Both of them ended up sorted into Gryffindor along with Mary, Alice, and a shy girl who introduced herself as Emmaline Vance.

The six of them joined the four other Gryffindors in their year: James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and (to the surprise of all the purebloods in the school) Sirius Black.

They all joked and teased as they follow the red-haired prefect to the Gryffindor common room.

They meet the Lady who’s portrait guards the entrance, Marlene and Dorcas giggle at the bottle of wine she tries to hide.

Look at the size of these beds, Dory! Lets got the ones near the window.

The first day of class was terrifying and amazing

Charms was immediately Dorcas’ favorite, and Marlene loved Flying class.

They both agreed that Professor. Mcgonagall was a badass, and that they were lucky to have her as their Head

It turned out that Dorcas was excellent at Potions, and Marlene was hopeless at the subject.

Slughorn had to replace four cauldrons after Marlene destroyed them all.

Marlene loved doing her History of Magic homework, she soaked in date after date, war after war. She was the only one in their year who listened to Binns.

Dorcas despised History of Magic

They started meeting in the library on Thursdays to work on homework, Marlene needed help with Charms and Dorcas desperately needed help with History

Marlene soon decided that Library Dorcas was her favorite Dorcas; she loved the way the light reflected in Dorcas’ eyes, and she found herself glancing over the pages of her Charms textbook to watch Dorcas write

Halloween soon became one of their favorite times of year

The feast was brilliant, and they walked back with their arms slung over the others shoulders

The best part was watching Lily dump her pumpkin juice over James’ head after he tried to kiss her with “pumpkin mistletoe”

Fall was Marlene’s favorite season: perfect quidditch weather, the colors were beautiful, food tasted better, there was Halloween!!

Marlene very quickly added two new things to her list of Why Fall Is the Superior Season: the way Dorcas’ hair moved in the breeze, and that Dorcas loved to steal her sweaters to keep warm.

Soon enough the winter holidays came

Dorcas was staying at Hogwarts. She wasn’t very close with her foster family, and she didn’t like being around people during Christmas

Marlene was going to go home until she found out Dorcas was staying

She apologized to her Mum about twenty times for not going home

The girls had an absolute blast during break

They went ice skating on the Black Lake, and they ate a ton of food at the Christmas feast.

They developed a morning routine

Dorcas was an early riser, but Marlene hated getting up before 9:00.

Dorcas would go down to the kitchens and get them hot chocolate

(Dorcas and Remus had discovered the kitchens one day when they both went looking for chocolate.)

By the time she got back Marlene would be awake, and they would sit by the fire and drink their chocolate.

In a flash the holidays were over, and the other students returned one frosty January day

The days flew by, and soon it was Valentine’s Day

Dorcas watched as a Hufflepuff boy called Benjy Fenwick shyly approached Marlene and gave her a heart shaped card

She felt something tear in her chest, and she was startled by the feeling

She turned away before she could see Marlene glance at her, and nervously accept the card

She avoided Marlene for the rest of the day, not really knowing why.

She gave in after dinner, and just attributed it to jealousy.

After all, every girl wants a boy to get them a Valentine’s Day card, and it hurts when their best friend gets one and the don’t.

The year passed by in a blur.

Marlene and Dorcas both aced their exams (Marlene almost failed potions. She only just achieved a passing grade- with some help from Lily Evans)

The last day of school was difficult for them both

They spent the day by the lake

They had adopted their own tree near the lake

It was a small, droopy willow (not at all like another willow on the grounds)

They girls shed their robes and took of their socks and shoes

They splashed around in the water for a while before going back inside to find the other Gryffindors

I’m going to miss you so much, Marly. This summer is gonna suck.

It’ll be okay Dory! I’ll write you every day! Don’t worry, everything will work itself out.

The next day at the train was bittersweet

The girls all got sweets and chocolate

Dorcas and Remus each traded addresses, they had developed a friendship after the Great Kitchen Adventure

They parted ways a few minutes after they arrived at the platform

Marlene gave Dorcas a small side hug, breathing in her Dorcas smell.

It wasn’t enough for Dorcas, who knew her foster parents wouldn’t allow owls.

She pulled Marlene into a giant hug, wrapping her arms tightly around the other girl

Marlene melted into her, and a tear escaped Dorcas’ eye.

Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll see you on the first, and we will talk all summer!

Dorcas didn’t have it in her to tell Marlene that the foster family wouldn’t let her trade letters.

She agreed, and quickly walked away, running at the barrier without looking back.

Marlene stared at the spot she had stood in for a moment before turning back to her mother and brothers.

It would be a long summer...

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lupins-sweater · 4 years

Text

Silly Goose

(Remus Lupin x Reader)

Requested by the lovely @poppin-potter

Summary: Reader takes care of drunk Remus

Warnings: Drinking/ Alcohol, food

Sorry about the really infrequent posting; school is starting, and it’s been awful trying to juggle this and getting ready for school. Once school resumes on the 19th, posting will be even more infrequent. You can still request things, but just know it’ll take forever to get to. It’s been very stressful considering I have to go back in person, and my school isn’t doing a lot to prevent the spread. I will be trying to catch up on other’s fics in the meantime though.

The Gryffindor common room was packed with students from every house; it was the last day of OWLS. The most popular songs blasted through the stereos causing people to sing and dance in time with the music. Of course alcohol was involved. How could it not be? After weeks of slaving over review materials, everyone was ready to let loose and relax. Even Remus Lupin, a friend of a friend. This friend, being Lily Evans, was your roommate since fourth year.

You knew he was one of the popular boys in school along with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. It made sense they were well known though. Except for Pettigrew, they were all smart, handsome, funny boys who knew their way around the rules. From what Lily has told you and the short conversations you’ve had with them, you kind of figured out their personalities. Potter was cocky and reckless; he was usually found either with the boys planning something or chasing your red haired friend around. Black was loud and a complete tease; he was always flirting and shooting winks your way. Pettigrew was...quiet and a little creepy; he also was a mouth breather, so he got in your nerves. And Lupin was also quiet, intelligent, and sarcastic; you sat next to him for a couple classes, and you tried your best not to laugh at his little remarks about the content. He noticed your struggle to keep it together when he whispered his comments into your ear when the professor wasn’t looking. To keep it together as in not to burst out laughing, but you did melt a little when you could smell his cologne and chocolate on his breath.

You also found out he was a werewolf after seeing him in the hospital wing every month during your shifts. Volunteering to help heal students back to health is what brought you closer to Remus. Although his friends kept him plenty of company, you wanted wanted to make sure his couple days at the wing weren’t lonely. He admitted he was a werewolf when you asked, not so smoothly, where did he get all the scars and how he got hurt every month. You felt awful after asking, but he was okay with it. He knew you were friends with Lily, and from what he could tell, you were trustworthy.

You were seated on a velvet love seat next to Lily and your best friend, Y/F’s/N. They were talking about dating which didn’t interest you, so you stared into space daydreaming about about a trip to Italy. Lily rudely interrupted your visions of running through an art museum by poking your arm. You looked at her slightly annoyed and hummed in response.

“What about you? Do you have your eyes on someone?” she asked. She already knew the truth, but she wanted to hear you admit you had feelings for the tall werewolf. Your quick glances and nervous behavior didn’t go unnoticed.

“No. Not that I can think of,” you lied. You returned you gaze back to the wall, hoping you could go back to daydreaming, so you didn’t have to continue the conversation.

“Really? Not even Remus?” Lily teased. “Could have been fooled.”

Loud laughing distracted you from coming up with a smart ass reply. You and your friends swiveled around to see the Marauders laughing about something. Whatever it was, it seemed hilarious. You didn’t even realise you were smiling when you observed Remus doubled over laughing; his smile wide and eyes teary.

“Don’t you think Remus is so cute, Y/N?” Y/F’s/N pokes you.

Your face felt hot as you tore your gaze away from the sandy haired boy.

“Ooo you do! Why don’t you ask him out? He’s right over there,” Lily pushed you.

“Nooo. I could never do that!” you objected.

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like me in that way! I’ll just embarrass myself.”

“Whatever you say,” Lily sang raising her eyebrows in response.

----

As the clock’s hands inched closer to two a.m., the students began to filter out the common room. The only people left were the Marauders, you, and Lily. The boys were clearly drunk as they slurred their way through plans of future pranks. You got up from your spot and began to pick up the cups strewn around the floor and coffee table.

“Do you need help?” Lily asked with a yawn.

“Nah. I’m fine. Maybe you could help the boys up the stairs,” you laughed as you watched them stumble to the boys dorm, “looks like they need it.”

“Ha ha yeah. I’ll help James and Sirius if you help Remus.”

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal!” You could feel the heat on your face as you looked past Lily to see Remus waving at you and stumbling backward.

“Maybe. Alright. What about this? I’ll help Sirius and James and pick up the rest of the rubbish if you take care of Remus.”

“Fine. If that means you’ll stop telling me to ask him out.”

She rolled her eyes “I only want you to get yourself a man; you complain about not having a boyfriend.”

That was one hundred percent true. You didn’t want to sound desperate, but you were kinda lonely and felt like you were mature enough to try dating. You also wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you were jealous of your friends who went on dates during Hogsmeade trips, leaving you alone.

You walked over to the sweater clad boy on the small desk and waved.

“Hello,” he greeted in a quiet voice and waved back.

“All right, Rem. Let’s get you to bed.” You reached your hand out to show you wanted him to follow you. He hopped off the desk and pulls you in for warm hug. Your thoughts could be best described as a giant exclamation point; the hug was totally unexpected as Remus wasn’t a fan of pda, and since you had a crush on him, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to spill.

“I like it when you call me that. It makes me very happy,” he admitted with a pleased smile.

“What? Rem?” you giggled as you tried to wriggle yourself out of his grip.

“Mhmm” he let you grab his arm and walk up the stairs one step at a time.

You felt your arm tug as you tried taking another step and looked down. Remus had apparently tripped.

“Oh dear. Come on,” you helped pull him back on his feet. Once he’s standing again, he brings his arm around your shoulders for support. The smell of alcohol hung off his breath as you wondered how much he had. Either he was really happy the year ended or his week had been rough.

You pulled your wand out of your sweater pocket and muttered a spell to get into the boys’ dorm.

“You’re so smart,” he praised you.

“Thanks...so are you.” Wow. This is awkward.

“No. You’re crazy smart,” he reiterated with a lopsided smile,“ and cute.”

“My goodness. We’re confident today. You’re pretty good looking yourself,” you sent a wink his way as the blush returned from earlier.

The two of you finally made it to his dorm room; the other three occupants were laying in bed. You guided him to the four poster bed to the farthest side on the right wall and took off his shoes when he sat down.

“Okay. I’m going to go get you something to eat soon, but I need you to get dressed in pajamas. Are they in your trunk?”

“Ooo food! Yes. The trunk,” he rubbed his eyes and watched contently as you rummaged through his trunk. You grabbed a water bottle and a pair of blue matching pajamas.

“Thank you, Y/N!” He unscrewed the cap and started chugging its contents causing you to cover your mouth in an attempt to not laugh. The rest of the boys were trying to sleep.

“Try not to drink the whole thing!”

He stopped to shoot you an incredulous look. “But I’m thirsty.”

You laughed silently and moved toward the door.

“Wait. Don’t leave me! Stayyyy,” he whined, “I promise I won’t drink all the water.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting you a snack.”

“Oh! Silly goose.”

You laughed at the odd phrase. “What? Me?”

“No me. I forgot you were getting food.”

“Get dressed, Rem,” you pointed to the clothes on his lap. He smiled in return.

——

You got back from the kitchens with some crackers without getting caught surprisingly and noticed Remus had fallen asleep. Smiling to yourself, you walked into the bathroom and grabbed the bin to set next to his bed.

You tiptoed your way to his bed, careful not to wake the others. He did in fact get dressed in the pajamas you gave him but the shirt was buttoned incorrectly. You resisted the urge to fix it and set down the crackers and bin.

Before leaving you got out a piece of parchment and a quill from his school bag propped up next to the nightstand.

You were feeling a little brave, so you wrote:

Hello, Rem! (Or silly goose as you called yourself)

How did you sleep? Hope you’re feeling good. Your water is on the stand, and I left some crackers for you. The bin is on the floor if you need it.

You looked like you had a great time last night. Who knew you would be so clingy when drunk? Don’t worry; you didn’t do anything stupid.

It was nice to talk to you outside of the hospital wing and class. Maybe we can study in the library next week? I’d love to get to know you better.

-Y/N

You then left to go to bed in your own dorm, glad Lily pushed you to take care of Remus.

——

General HP tag list

@summer-writes @masterofthedarkness @iliveiloveiwrite @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @nebulablakemurphy @obsessedwithrandomthings @haphazardhufflepuff @firewhisky-kisses

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus x y/n #remus x you

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno

Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.

A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point.

Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.

The first letter Tayce got was in early April.

She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.

But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.

This had better be worth it.

When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.

‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’

And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.

——

Tayce was on her own in the flat.

In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics.

Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.

In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her.

Sometimes they did.

Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.

And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.

Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.

Until the letter arrived.

——

Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.

‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’

“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.

“In lockdown?”

“She’s delivering me letters.”

“How?”

“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”

“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.

“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.

——

By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.

Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones.

Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised.

February felt like years ago.

When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg.

‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’

It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.

But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.

——

The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.

“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”

“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -

Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“

“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.

“She’s - not in a good place.”

“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes.

“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”

“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“

“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.

“I’ve made a pen friend.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.

“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”

“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side.

Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”

“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”

“Aurora.”

“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”

“No.”

“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”

“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle.

——

‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’

Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen.

‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’

And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.

The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them.

So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today.

It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it?

She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had.

No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.

Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.

As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.

Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.

On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real.

Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?

She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.

“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”

“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.

But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”

And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce.

How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea.

But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with.

Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back.

How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.

But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline.

How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?

Tayce held her for too long.

Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.

Cherry is gonna kill me.

Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.

——

After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea.

She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’

So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.

It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.

“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”

Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.

When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.

Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.

Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.

Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.

When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.

So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.

Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”

“And that accent, oh my days -“

“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”

But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -

——

Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.

The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower.

It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.

And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.

The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin.

“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”

“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”

Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed.

Only Veronica was still missing.

“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”

“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.

“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”

It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.

She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday.

Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same.

So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences.

By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.

Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.

Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x

Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.

——

It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.

‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’

Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends.

Then it hit her.

God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?

But she replied and immediately started clearing the house.

She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.

“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen.

By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well.

It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -

Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.

Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.

Maybe she’s changed her mind.

But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.

With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.

“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”

“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.

“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”

When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.

“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”

“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.

“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”

“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”

Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.

“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”

“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”

Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”

“What about?”

“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.

“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.

Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.

——

Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June.

“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”

Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon.

“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.

“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.

Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.

“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.

“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”

“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone.

“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”

She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.

Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.

That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.

Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official.

She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.

Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.

The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’

“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”

“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.

“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”

“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”

Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”

“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”

“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”

“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

——

By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.

The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.

She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.

Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.

“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”

It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.

Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”

“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.

Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”

“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.

But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable.

Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home.

And this just might be becoming one.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #ginny lemon #lawrence chaney #veronica green #tia kofi #ellie diamond #uk2 #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno #tw covid lockdown #tw mental health mentions #submission

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

Text

Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz (by tap5a)

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved... unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange

Chapter 1: Life offers you many surprises

Berlin, Französische Straße Friday, 25 July 2025, 8.50 a.m.

Five minutes earlier, Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp had entered the large, light gray house, built in the neo-Renaissance style that dominated the whole Forum Fridericianum. In the lobby, which was dominated by marble and dark wood, Claire was greeted by a receptionist. She was asked to sit down for a moment in one of the dark leather armchairs, of which four were grouped around an elegant round table. As she waited, her eyes wandered up the high walls of the entrance hall. A few steps of a staircase led out of the hall through a large glass door that ended in a round arch at the top, reminiscent of a gate entrance. Above it was a large ornament of dark stones inlaid in the light marble. The ornament showed a circle, which, as it seemed, was formed from a belt. The words "Je suis prest" could be read in the curve of the circle and in the center of the ornament was the head of a stately stag, which looked directly at the observer.

“Französische Straße Berlin” by Jörg Zägel / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

Claire knew that the French motto meant "I am ready!", but just as she was wondering what the sign meant, an older lady approached her. She introduced herself as Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons. This employee, whose blue costume gave the impression of a uniform, led Claire down various small staircases and long corridors to the room where she was now sitting. Wherever they had gone in this house, it had been extremely quiet. The heavy, dark red carpets that covered all the stairs and hallways, had swallowed every sound of their footsteps. Now she sat in a room whose furnishings were characterized by dark wood and light brass and whose dimensions were more like those of a hall. But it was the antechamber of the CEO’s office of "Fraser & Son International" and behind the large double-winged door that Claire was now looking at was the study of Dr. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, one of the country's leading business owners. Until two weeks ago, Claire did not know the man's name or that of his company. She didn't care about the gossip press, which also reported on the local "high society" in Berlin. But then Geillis Duncan, her best friend, came by one evening and showed her a job ad from the "Wirtschaftswoche" newspaper. At first Claire was completely surprised. How did Geillis, who loved to read the gossip press, come to show her an ad from Germany's leading weekly magazine for managers?

"Dave left it on the kitchen table, and since I didn't have anything else at hand, I looked into it while having breakfast. But now take a look at this job ad!"

Geillis had emphatically pointed to an ad that featured the same ornament as the one she had seen in the lobby. Claire had started reading. A pedagogically trained caregiver was needed for an almost seven-year-old child. The woman should speak fluent German, English and French. Further foreign language skills were welcome but not required. Furthermore, an extensive general education and an impeccable curriculum vitae (i.e. no entries in the Federal Central Crime Register) were expected. Special emphasis was placed on the knowledge and practice of the literature written by Adolph Freiherr Knigge. Three times the current monthly salary was offered, 30 days paid vacation, free board and lodging, private health insurance 1st class.

"Just imagine Claire!" the girlfriend had exclaimed enthusiastically, "If you got this job and worked there for a few years, all your problems would be solved!”

Geillis was right, well, almost. Surely not all her problems would be solved. But the financial problems she had to deal with could at least be significantly reduced by this job. She had to acknowledge that and so Claire, Geillis and her friend Dave met that very evening to write a letter of application. Dave, who worked for a large media company at Potsdamer Platz, immediately agreed to help her with his knowledge. The next day, Claire had sent off the application. Then she had bought an updated edition of "The Knigge" and started reading it. Shortly after, Geillis came and brought her a large pile of current newspaper clippings so Claire could learn all she needed to know about the person of James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser and the family business he ran.

She learned a lot about the company from various business magazines, but the person of James Fraser seemed almost like a phantom. It seemed to her that this man also didn't care about the so-called "high society" and obviously he didn't deliver any headlines to the gossip press. There was neither an article about him nor a photo of him on the company's homepage. Even a Wikipedia article with his name only gave the basic data (birthday, place of birth, family, studies) and otherwise dealt more with the globally active company. "Fraser & Son International" was one of the few family-owned companies that to this day had no shareholders and, having invested in a wide range of economic sectors, not only survived the financial crisis of 2008 well, but had even emerged from it stronger. In this Wikipedia article, however, there was a photo by James Fraser. It showed him with a group of business leaders at a national conference. However, this picture was over eight years old and also very pixelated. At some point everything turned in Claire's head and she hoped that she had not learned all this information for nothing. If she would at least be invited for a job interview. Ten days later, she hadn't dared to hope that she would ever hear of Fraser & Son International, and to her surprise, her smartphone rang just before the lunch break began. A Dr. Ned Gowan called on behalf of the company, explained that he was the lawyer for "Fraser & Son International" and asked if she could come for an interview at the company's headquarters two days later at 9:00 am. She told him that she had to ask her department head to give her time off first and would call back. As the summer vacation period was over, it was no problem to get a day off and so she called Dr Gowan fifteen minutes later and agreed to meet him (and Dr. Fraser!) two days later. Claire had to be extremely restrained not to cheer out loud. This would have immediately drawn the attention of her colleagues in the department, and she definitely did not want to tell them about it. During lunch break, she left the clinic and sat down on a bench in a nearby park. From there she called Geillis and told her the good news. Right after the end of her shift, the friends met in the parking lot of the clinic to go into town together and pick out a suitable "outfit" for Claire's job interview. Geillis, who had worked as a freelance fashion consultant for many years before she met "the rich Dave", dragged her friend directly to the fashion department of the KaDeWe. There, after a while, they found a muted dark green business costume that emphasized Claire's figure but still looked respectable.

“Kaufhaus des Westens (KaDeWe) - Foto by Avi1111 dr. avishai teicher / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

"That's perfect," exclaimed Geillis as Claire stepped out of the dressing room. "Yes, perfectly too expensive for me. Have you seen the price?" "Don't worry about that," Geillis replied. Then she whispered: "I'll pay for it. If the job doesn't work out, we'll just give it back afterwards. And if you get the job and want to keep it, you'll give me the money back when you get your first salary.”

They bought the costume and also a matching blouse and shoes. Claire was not allowed to think about the amount of money they had spent within a few hours or she would get sick. But that was all forgotten at that moment. Now it was time to concentrate and make a good impression. Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons had led her into this room and instructed her to use one of the twelve large brown leather armchairs. With the words "You will be called in when it is your turn," she had said goodbye. Claire had taken a seat and scanned the room as inconspicuously as possible. Seven other women sat in leather armchairs of the same type, which were set up on three side walls of the room, each separated by a small table. On the tables were glasses and bottles of mineral water, but none of the other women had made use of them. Claire had not intended to drink anything either. She was far too excited to drink, and she was afraid that she might have to go to the bathroom in the middle of her upcoming job interview. Slowly, her gaze wandered across the light-colored carpet to that large, two-winged mahogany wooden door. On each of the wings was a coat of arms, divided into four sections. On the upper left and the lower right quarter were three white flowers on a blue background. The upper right and the lower left quarter each showed three red, pointed crowns on a white background. Behind this door, Claire assumed, must be the director's room. What would she expect there? She did not know. Why had she only gotten involved in this thing that Geilis Duncan had suggested to her? Out of desperation? She wasn't sure. Only one thing was sure: she had never thought that she would have to have another job interview at the age of almost 30. But that was her life. Much of what had happened in her life had not been planned, nor had she ever expected her life to be like that. Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp, almost divorced Randall, had lost her parents in a car accident when she was five years old. For the next fifteen years she was raised in the loving care of her uncle 'Lamb'. Dr. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, an archaeologist and Egyptologist whose research focus was on the Old Kingdom of Egypt and who was highly revered by his students, came to Berlin in 2015, where he taught at Humboldt University in the last years before his retirement. There Claire had also met her future husband, Dr. Frank Randall. He had been assigned to her uncle as a research assistant. Randall had courted her like no man before and they had already married in May 2016. The first four years of their marriage had gone in a way that Claire would still describe as happy today. Although, she was no longer quite so sure. What did happiness actually mean? Was there a definition for this term? And even if there was a definition for the term "happiness", was it really valid for all people? In any case, the first four years of her marriage had not been very negative. Together they had made regular trips to Paris, Madrid, Prague, Budapest, Dubrovnik, Palermo, Venice, Turin, Marseille, Amsterdam, Florence, Milan, Barcelona and Bruges.

“Palermo/Sizilien” by nataliaaggiato

Claire enjoyed getting to know these cities and experiencing their cultural particularities. When Lambert Beauchamp died unexpectedly in February 2019 as a result of a stroke, Frank had been kind and, in her opinion, very sensitive to her needs. But in the spring of 2020, a strange development had set in with him. At first Claire had blamed it on the effects of the corona pandemic. After the start of the lockdown, Frank was mainly at home, giving lectures via Zoom and otherwise writing a new book on the history of the Scottish Jacobite uprising in 1745. Claire, on the other hand, was working as a nurse in the children's clinic of Berlin's Charité hospital, as she had been before the crisis. Frank had insisted that Claire should give up her job. The possibility that she could become infected with the virus seemed too high to him. But Claire could not bring it over her heart to leave her fellow nurses alone, especially in such a severe time, and thanks to the strictly observed precautions she got through this difficult time without any problems. While she could be happy about the successes in her profession, the problems in her marriage with Frank seemed to become bigger and bigger. At some point, she felt that Frank was becoming more and more monosyllabic and that they were drifting apart rapidly. But evem then she thought this was a temporary phase that would end after the pandemic at the latest. At least she hoped so. When a vaccine against the virus was finally found in July 2021 and became available in December 2021, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She and Frank would get vaccinated and then they could travel again. This would change Frank's mind and make her marriage blossom again. But it all turned out differently. Once they were vaccinated, Frank suddenly didn't feel like traveling anymore. Again and again he put off his work. Regularly he worked until late at night at the university and sometimes he spent whole nights there. It was always about important analyses, which he published in specialist publications and for which there were tight deadlines. Even on evenings when Claire was off, he was rarely at home, and whenever she tried to initiate a little marital tenderness, he was too tired for that. In the spring of 2022, they had slept together for the last time. A few months later, Frank had stopped kissing her goodbye, as he usually did when he left the house. What happened then had the potential to throw her completely off track. By the fall of 2022, a hunch that Claire had suppressed again and again had been confirmed. Frank had a mistress. When she returned from her work at the children's hospital one evening in October, she saw Frank saying goodbye to a slender blonde at the door of their shared house, kissing her intensely. She stood there frozen. Everything inside her urged her to turn around and run away. But then the anger that built up within her gained the upper hand. Like a burning ray that shot out of her stomach through her whole body, he took a breath. She ran to the front door, unlocked it and found Frank standing at the sink in the kitchen, where he was just rinsing out two wine glasses. He turned to her in surprise, but before he could say a word, Claire's purse hit him in the left half of his face with full force. Frank had lost his balance and had fallen over. His glasses had come off his head and had broken when he hit the kitchen floor. Claire no longer knew what insults she had used to call him. Frank had picked himself up and collected the parts of his glasses. He had not even set out to explain the situation or apologize.Claire would not have listened to him either. She had turned on her foot and had run into the shared bedroom. When she arrived there, she had taken Frank's bed linen, run back downstairs with it and threw it all into his study. Then she ran back into the bedroom again and locked herself inside. She did not know how long she had cried angrily. But before she had fallen asleep, she had made a plan. The next morning she went on the morning shift. During a break she called a lawyer and that same afternoon she went to see her to discuss the formalities of a divorce.

“Brille” by jottbe

Frank had had the injuries Claire had inflicted on him treated, but had not reported them to the police. It was only later that he let it show that he had orchestrated the whole situation. He had simply been too cowardly to have a conversation with her about a divorce, as two adults normally do. He probably wanted to make her feel guilty, too. Claire was convinced of that, at least. Frank had always been against her going back to work. When she accepted the job at the children's hospital a year after their wedding, he had expressed himself very negatively about it. What kind of impression would it leave on his colleagues if the wife of a prospective professor went to work? And in the last year of their marriage he had not missed any opportunity to tell her how much he felt neglected. It took three months before Claire was able to move into a small room in one of the Charité nurses' homes. During these three months she did everything she could to avoid Frank as much as possible. Anything she couldn't take with her to the nurses' home, she stored in her friend Geillis Duncan's basement. Claire hoped that the divorce would be finalized in October 2023 after the obligatory year of separation and that she could finally start a new life. But this time, too, everything turned out differently than she had hoped. It was a rainy autumn day in September 2023 and it was to be the last day in the life of Dr. Frank Randall. On a country road near Lübeck, where he had attended a conference for historians, Frank's car skidded for some unknown reason. The car broke through the barrier and then came to a halt in a field. There it was discovered the next morning by a farmer. When the police arrived at the scene of the accident, Dr. Frank Randall was strapped in the seat belt and sat in the driver's seat as if nothing had happened. He was uninjured and even still wearing his hat. But Frank Randall was dead. An autopsy performed later revealed that Frank had had a heart attack that caused him to lose control of the car, causing it to veer off the road. It was, as the police later said, very lucky that no other car had been hit. Claire was shaken.

“Lübeck” by scholty1970

But an even greater shock struck her on the day of the reading of the will. On that day, the notary told her that she would not inherit any money, only debts from Frank. Her still-husband had bought a condominium for his mistress for 250,000 euros, which he had signed over to her. For this gift Frank had gone into debt and Claire, who was still married to him by law, inherited his debts. It was one big nightmare. Although Claire had also inherited the rights to Frank's books, these reference books sold only in very manageable numbers and brought in little money. With her salary as a pediatric nurse, it would take her decades to pay off Frank's debts. Meanwhile, Sandy Travers, this bleached ...., was sitting in her apartment, probably enjoying herself with her next lover. Once again the anger about Frank rose in Claire's heart, but before she could think about him any further, a familiar voice tore her from these thoughts.

#Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #James Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #lambert beauchamp #Frank Randall #Fergus Fraser #Geillis Duncan #Ned Gowan #Berlin #Germany #Modern AU #Outlander Prompt Exchange

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starcountesseevee · 3 years

Text

Just another one shot with Cliff x Reader, enjoy

Lending a Hand

Cliff ran over to his fainted Pupitar as it crashed backwards into the dirt, frantically checking over it's injuries while his opponent gloated.

"Ha, and I thought Team Rocket was supposed to be tough."

Cliff ignored the remark as he grabbed for his bag, desperately searching for a health potion as his opponent sauntered off. As he reached the bottom of his bag he realized he must be out. Dammit! He pounded a fist into the ground cursing himself for being so forgetful. And now his Pupitar might pay the price for it.

He shouldn't be this sentimental about a Pokemon and he knew if any of his fellow Team Rocket coworkers found out they would tease him mercilessly for it, but this was one of the very first Pokemon he ever caught as a Trainer and was ultimately what made him decide he wanted to specialize in Rock Types. He had worked hard to evolve it to a Pupitar and was working towards its final Tyranitar evolution just like he was working hard to become a Leader with Team Rocket. Although a loss like the one he just had was not Leader material and definitely not something that should have happened to an Officer such as himself.

Scooping up the Pupitar he frantically looked around the road he was on. He knew there was a town the way he had come but it was miles away and it had taken him most of the morning to get to where he was now. The Pupitar shook as he held it and a knot began forming in the pit of his stomach. Would he be able to get somewhere and get help before it was too late? Swearing under his breath he tucked it closer to him and began to run down the dirt path back the way he came. Even if he could keep this pace up it would still take at least an hour to get back to the town he came from, he just hoped that would be enough.

You shut and locked your back door, double checking that you had everything you needed in your pack before heading to the shed to retrieve your bike. It was a beautiful day out and just the kind of afternoon that would be perfect to get some more practice in with your new lens. You had finished processing your photos from over the weekend and while they were good they were not quite as good as you would like them to be. Which just meant you had an excuse to take more.

As you pushed your bike up the walkway you called for Emi, your Emolga, that obediently flew over to perch on your shoulder, trilling excitedly. He knew what getting the bike out meant - going somewhere out of town where there would be plenty of fresh berries and worms to eat. You crinkled your nose at him, giving the top of his head a little scratch before you set off.

It didn’t take you long to pass the edge of town and get onto the main path, a wide open dirt road with lush fields on either side. Your destination was a small forest a few miles up the road that had plenty of nice scenery to take pictures at. As you picked up the pace the warm summer breeze tousled your hair and Emi flew off your shoulder to do loops in the sky above you. It was definitely what you would call a perfect summer day.

Cliff’s legs and lungs were burning and despite his efforts there was still no glimpse of the town in sight. Jogging to a stop he fought to catch his breath, but even taking a brief rest felt like a betrayal as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

"It's gonna be okay buddy, we'll get you help soon." Although he wouldn't be caught dead talking to a Pokemon like that in front of his colleagues, especially not Sierra, in this moment it felt like the right thing to do. After a few minutes he felt like his breathing was under control enough to continue on but when he looked up at the road he spotted a cloud of dust being kicked up by something a bit further down. Hoping it was someone that could help he rushed forward, waving an arm to flag them down.

Emi was the first to notice the man running towards you and returned to your shoulder chirping incessantly before flitting about in front of your bike. Spotting them yourself you back pedaled, maybe a little too hard, making the bike skid to a stop in a cloud of dust. As the man approached it only took you a moment to notice the large, red R Team Rocket logo on his uniform and you gasped audibly, your first instinct being to turn your bike around and hightail it out of there. You were about to call Emi back to you when you spotted the Pupitar in the man’s arms and hesitated, it clearly looked injured.

“Hey!” Cliff called out, hoping to Mythics that whoever it was had some sort of health potion on them as he jogged to a stop. You were eyeing him warily and he couldn’t help noticing that you seemed poised to turn around. “Wait...please.” He panted out, motioning to the Pupitar. “I need help...it’s injured and I don’t have any health potions left.”

Emi was flitting around by your side, the yellow spots on his cheeks crackling with electricity in warning. “Shh, it’s okay Emi.” Motioning for him to come back to your shoulder you turned your attention back to the man as you toyed with your conscience. On one hand Team Rocket had a reputation, and it was not a good one. Could this all be a ploy to divert your attention away from your own Pokemon or distract you from something else? On the other hand he did look desperate and the Pupitar did look like it needed help. You always carried at least one health potion in your pack for emergencies and after a brief hesitation you flipped down the kickstand of your bike and hopped off. Setting your pack on the ground you began rummaging through it until your hand landed on the bottle.

“Here.” You offered and he hastily took the potion and administered it. A few moments later and the Pupitar’s eyes opened slowly, its coloring returning to a more normal shade.

“Hey buddy.” Cliff smiled down at it. You couldn’t help noticing how handsome his smile was as a warm flush crept across your cheeks. But that was neither here nor there. Job complete you stood back up, brushing any dust off your knees before returning your pack to your shoulder and swinging yourself back onto your bike. This hadn’t been much of a detour and there was still plenty of time to get some photos in.

“Thank you, oh!” Cliff hadn’t realized you had gotten back onto your bike. “Listen, I really can’t thank you enough, um…?”

“Oh, its (Y/N). Glad I could help.” You smiled warmly, flipping the kickstand of your bike back up as Emi chirped impatiently on your shoulder. Not wanting to stall any longer you straightened out and began pedaling forward.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” It seemed wrong to just leave it at that. You were clearly kind and when you turned back you seemed to be practically glowing in the afternoon sun like the angel you apparently were. And now that he wasn’t preoccupied and had a chance to really look at you he wanted to find something else that would prolong the conversation. “Thank you, if there is anything I can do to repay you…”

“How about just don’t let it happen again?” You smiled again and gave him a small wave before taking off again, heart fluttering in your chest, much to Cliff’s dismay.

The sun was just beginning to set as you pushed your bike up your street to the small building you called home, the front of which served as a small studio for your budding photography business. As you got closer though your heart skipped a beat when you saw the man from earlier sitting on your front steps. He noticed you as well and stood with a smile. That damn cute smile.

“Um, hi?” You questioned, stopping short of your house as you eyed him up unsure of whether you should be worried or not.

“Hi…” Cliff started before nervously faltering. He had figured you lived in this town as it was the closest to where you two had met and seeing as you were on a bike and didn’t seem to be carrying much it was the logical assumption. You also had a logo on you pack that he had matched up to the one on the front door here and had taken a chance that you might be back at some point. But now that he was here he was beginning to realize how it must look to you. “I’m sorry, I know this must seem...a bit weird. And I will absolutely leave if this is uncomfortable.” He laughed nervously. “But I was coming back into town anyway and I really just wanted to say thank you again. I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

You were silent for a long moment as you considered what to do. This was definitely a bit strange but oddly enough you weren’t uneasy about it. Team Rocket reputation be damned, someone who cared that much about their Pokemon was decent in your books. “It’s not a problem, happy to help. But you really didn’t have to track me down just to say thank you again. I really didn’t do all that much. Although," You paused, your brows knitting in question. "how did you find me here anyway?”

“Maybe I can tell you over a cup of coffee?”

Smooth. You thought, biting back a grin. “Alright, just let me put my bike away first. I think the StaryuBucks down the street is still open.” You began pushing your bike down the small walkway next to your house but paused before you got very far and turned back. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name?”

“Cliff.” He grinned, leaning against the railing as he waited for you.

“Well, Cliff, it's nice to meet you.” You returned the smile before turning back towards the shed and hoping he didn’t notice the flush that was spreading across your cheeks as you did so.

#pokemon go fanfiction #team rocket cliff #pokemon go cliff #cliff pokemon go #pokemon cliff #leader cliff

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xomarauders · 4 years

Text

hello everyone,

it has been far too long since i have posted anything on here and for that i apologize, but i have been working on some of my own writing as well as just dealing with personal stuff so please forgive me.

i also might be changing this blog up a bit and start posting more than just marauders fanfiction (such as some of my own writing perhaps). i’m still not sure about this idea because i don’t really want to change my user name or anything and i do want to contiue writing fics so we’ll see!

anyway, without further ado, here is my latest fic for yall :) hope you enjoy! (p.s. there is a second part coming!!!)

tw: internalized homophobia, implied child abuse, depictions of a panic attack

The cold December air was harsh against Marlene’s skin as she stood outside the small record shop she had been frequenting since she was fourteen. It was tucked away in the side of a building in London, offering solace to those who did not seem to fit in with the more fast-paced, business-like folk you so often saw among the sidewalks. The cigarette in her hand was offering little warmth but seemed to be calming her nerves, so she stayed outside to finish smoking it. It was winter break from Hogwarts and Marlene was relieved to be away from school for the time being as well as away from her friends. She couldn’t face them at the moment. Not after what she did.

Marlene rolled her eyes at herself for thinking of things she’d rather forget and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the toe of her combat boot. With one last glance toward the busy street, she retreated into the record shop which greeted her immediately with the chime of a bell and rock music playing throughout the speakers of the store.

A man at the register with short, dirty blonde hair and rings through his eyebrows glanced up at her entrance, a smile appearing on his face.

“Marlene! Haven’t seen you in a while.” He commented, swinging his legs over the counter and making his way toward her. Marlene gave a non-committal shrug but returned the high-five he offered her with semi frozen fingers.

“How has business been, Curtis?” She asked, glancing around the nearly empty shop. There was no one else in there aside from the two of them and Marlene felt her heart break just a little bit. This was one of her favorite places to be, a place she and her friends would escape to during the summer to be with one another. She wondered if their absence was the reason for her melancholic mood.

“It hasn’t been bad. Just caught me on a slow day.” Curtis replied, seeming to notice Marlene’s shift in behavior. “Lily was in here the other day, actually. Got herself a few new albums.”

Marlene looked up at the mention of Lily and felt her cheeks burn slightly. She wondered if Lily had mentioned anything about the incident to Curtis. Judging by the passive look on his face, she assumed not and tried to school her own expression into a neutral one.

“Yeah? What albums?”

After Curtis introduced her to the new music Lily had gotten, Marlene picked up a few albums of her own to purchase before leaving the shop to get back home. She would have stayed to visit with Curtis longer, but she didn’t want to linger in a space that reminded her so much of her friends at the moment and she especially didn’t want to run into them anytime soon.

It was a bit of a walk to the closest floo station and the London streets were bustling with people walking home from work or coming out for the night. Marlene kept her head down, staring at the pavement in front of her and wrapping her jacket tightly around herself, blocking out the bitter cold as best she could. Suddenly, a body collided against her and she fell backwards, dropping her records in the process.

“What the fu—?” Marlene was cut off by the commotion of being pulled off the sidewalk and dragged into a nearby alley way.

She looked up, ready to scream insults at her attacker, but stopped at the sight of Sirius Black’s face. His hair was tied up in a bun, though most of it seemed to have fallen out, and there was a wide look of panic in his eyes that matched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was trembling finely and looked ready to pass out as he glanced behind him in a paranoid manner. It seemed as though he was running from something. Or someone.

“Sirius?” Marlene asked, keeping her voice low. She turned to look in the direction where Sirius was peering and spotted two men seemingly searching the crowd. Her eyebrows raised. There was something off about the two men…they did not fit in with the rest of the crowd, the clothes they wore were different, not really matching and the confused, disgusted looks on their faces made them stick out like sore thumbs. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks—they were wizards trying to blend in with a muggle crowd. Purebloods, to be exact.

She whirled around to look at Sirius once more. “Sirius, who are those men?” She hissed, desperate to know what kind of danger they could possibly be in. Rumors about dark wizards had begun circulating around Hogwarts for months now. Followers of Voldemort that had begun to call themselves “Death Eaters” were threatening the lives of muggleborns, though Marlene had never actually seen any such wizard. Until now, she supposed.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Sirius said, completely ignoring her question. He looked down towards the other end of the alley to see a chain link fence and cursed. They were trapped it seemed and Marlene felt herself begin to panic.

“Sirius,” She said, her voice urgent, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for.

He turned to her once more, gripping her shoulders tightly and staring at her intently. “I have an idea, but you have to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to anybody, do you understand?”

Marlene nodded and then watched with complete shock and awe as Sirius disappeared, a large, black dog appearing in his place. Animagus, she realized with a jolt. The dog turned away, walking back down the alley before turning and barking at Marlene, as if motioning for her to follow. She blinked a few times, still shocked at the sudden change of events, before following him back into the streets. He stopped where she had dropped her records and Marlene bent down to pick them up, a slight frown playing on her lips at the sight of the bent corners of the packaging. She was just about to scold Sirius when a rough voice behind her cleared their throat. She looked up, just as Sirius growled, to see the two men from earlier standing there.

The men did not seem to pay attention to the dog, focusing their gaze solely on Marlene instead. She tried to keep her face neutral, raising a single eyebrow in their direction. “Can I help you?”

“Have you seen a boy run through here?” The shorter of the two men asked, his lip curling in disgust. The other man eyed Marlene warily, taking in her muggle attire and turning his nose up at the mere sight. Marlene tried not to roll her eyes.

“No.” She replied, sounding calmer than she felt.

The two men shared a look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth, before nodding their understanding and moving past her without another word. Marlene felt as Sirius curled around her legs, watching as they disappeared around the corner before letting out a victorious bark. She looked down at him, shaking her head.

“I suppose you need somewhere to hide for a while?”

Another yelp and wag of his tale gave Marlene all the answers she needed.

****

“Well, this is home.” Marlene said with a sigh, dropping her records onto her bed with a soft thud. Sirius—still in his canine form—sniffed around before cocking his head in her direction and allowing his tongue to roll out of his mouth. Marlene wrinkled her nose at the slobber. “I think you are safe to go back to your usual…form. Unless you’re stuck that is.”

Again, Marlene watched in amazement as Sirius came back to himself, a shiver running through his body as he grinned at her. “Nice room you’ve got, McKinnon. Am I the first boy you’ve brought home?”

“Care to explain what just happened?” She asked, not caring for the way he seemed to avoid explaining himself.

Sirius shrugged, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room and running his fingers down the various artwork Marlene had spread out there. A look of wonder shined in his eyes as he delicately examined the paintings and drawings as if they were some sort of precious treasure. He stopped at a particular piece of a woman’s face done with charcoal pencil and Marlene felt herself blush at the way he traced the strokes that molded her lips.

“These are wonderful. Who did them?”

“I did.”

Sirius turned, his eyebrows raised with surprise and admiration. “Really? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

She stood up, marching over to where he stood, and removed the drawing from his grasp, shoving it beneath the rest of the art, effectively obscuring it from his wandering eyes, before turning to face him once more.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Black.”

She did not miss the way he seemed to flinch away from her before shaking it off and plastering another smirk across his face. “Touché.” He spoke quietly.

Marlene felt a jolt of guilt in her gut, feeling bad for snapping at him. He was merely admiring her work. He did not understand the context of her drawing and likely wouldn’t make the connection. Afterall, he did not live in her mind where all the confusing thoughts and doubts resided. He could not possibly know her dirty little secret.

“Just…tell me what happened back there. Do I need to be afraid that someone might follow you here?” She asked, changing the topic.

“Those were the Lestrange brothers. Rabastan and Rodolphus. Purebloods. Family friends.”

“Why were they looking for you?”

“Because I may have said something rather…deplorable at my dear cousin’s engagement party.” Sirius said it with a grin, but Marlene noticed the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Marlene vaguely knew about the Black family and the way they presented themselves. Most of her ideas about them came from the mere reactions Sirius had whenever someone brought the prestigious bloodline. He was always loud about it, shouting about how stuck up they were in the Gryffindor common room and how grateful he was that he had not followed in their footsteps and ended up in Slytherin. She also knew that they were blood purists, believing that muggles were beneath them.

From what she had gathered, she was not a fan of them.

“Is there any way they can find you here?” Marlene asked, unwilling to allow her family to become endangered for hiding a self-proclaimed fugitive. Sirius just laughed, shaking his head so that his hair flung about. Marlene would have found it amusing how much it reminded her of a dog if it were under difference circumstances.

“I doubt they would. Going into muggle London was bad enough for them, they’re not going to continue their search in a muggle neighborhood.”

Marlene did not get the chance to ask what Sirius planned to do next due to the sound of the front door opening and her family announcing their presence.

“Marls!” Her father shouted up the steps. “We’re home!”

“Come down and tell us how your trip to London was. Your brother has been pestering me all afternoon about not letting him go with you.” Her mother spoke with a laugh and Marlene heard her brother scoff indignantly.

Marlene turned to Sirius, pointing a finger at him and giving him the best glare that she could. “Be on your best behavior. Go along with everything I say, are we clear?” Sirius just nodded, unwilling to cross her and with a final nod Marlene turned to exit the room with Sirius following closely behind. As they entered the living area, Marlene watched as her brother’s eyes went wide at the sight of Sirius.

“Mum! Marlene’s brought a friend home!” He announced. The McKinnon’s turned, a look of surprise on each of their faces at the sight of the young man standing in their home. Marlene’s mother turned to her and offered a hesitant smile.

“Marlene, who’s your friend?”

“Mum, dad, this is Sirius. He goes to school with me.”

Her father instantly lit up, clasping her hands together as he plopped down on the sofa. “Another wizard! How nice to meet you, young man. I’m Grant McKinnon, but you can just call me Grant.” He offered Sirius a hand and Marlene tried her best not to smirk as Sirius suddenly stood up a bit straighter and shook her fathers’ hand as if he were meeting the Queen.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir. Lovely home you have here.”

“What a gentleman.” Her mother laughed lightly. “I’m Lottie.”

This time, Marlene had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing as she watched Sirius gently kiss her mother’s hand. Merlin, he really was a posh bastard.

“I’m Freddie.” Her brother greeted, not wanting to be left out, and Sirius’s eyes lit up.

“Like Freddie Mercury?”

“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Just as Marlene was about to interrupt to give an explanation as to why Sirius was there in the first place, her family initiated a game of twenty questions directed toward the poor boy.

“So, you go to Hogwarts then?” Lottie asked, an easy smile playing on her lips. She moved to sit by her husband, smoothing out her yellow sun dress as she did so. Sirius nodded, a proud smile appearing on his face.

“Yes. Sorted into Gryffindor, just like Marlene.”

Grant leaned forward; an eyebrow raised. “That’s the one with the lion, right?”

Marlene rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Dad, you know it is.”

Her father merely laughed, raising his hands in defense as he leaned back once more. “I just want to make sure! I never went to Hogwarts now did I?”

“Oh, did you go to Beaubaxtons?” Sirius asked and Marlene cringed.

“Oxford, actually.” Her father answered easily, and Sirius glanced at Marlene with clear confusion on his face. Grant didn’t seem to mind though, catching on to what Sirius wasn’t fully understanding. “I don’t have magic, son.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide for the hundredth time that day it seemed, and he grinned wickedly. “You’re a muggle.” He stated as if he had just made a new discovery. Marlene got the impression that Sirius had never really spoken to a muggle before now.

“You’re pureblood then, Sirius?” Marlene’s mother asked, quickly connecting the dots of Sirius’s curiosity.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I am.” Sirius shifted a bit uncomfortably and Lottie frowned at the sudden change in behavior.

“I was the only witch in my family.” Lottie continued, changing the subject. “Was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.”

“That’s what I’m going to be.” Freddie piped up, puffing his chest out in perfect eight-year old fashion. Marlene rolled her eyes.

“You still have three more years and there’s no guarantee you’ll follow in mum’s footsteps.”

Freddie narrowed his eyebrows and glared at Marlene. “But I want to be a Ravenclaw.”

“You can be whatever you want to be, mate.” Sirius said solemnly and Marlene found herself surprised at the sincerity in Sirius’s voice. She had never known Sirius to behave in such ways at school, often getting into trouble and shouting about loudly and animatedly. What he said had seemed to be an acceptable answer for Freddie, though, who beamed right back at Sirius.

“Sirius needs a place to stay.” Marlene blurted suddenly, and everyone’s attention turned toward her once more. Her mother gave her a dubious look, waiting patiently for an explanation while her father seemed to not even question the notion.

“For how long?” Grant asked.

“Oh. Uh, you don’t have to do that, sir. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Lottie leaned forward, reaching out for Sirius who instantly flinched in return, causing her to draw her hands back quickly, a stunned look on her face at his reaction. She cleared her throat and fixed him with a serious look. “It’s not problem if you need somewhere to sleep, Sirius. I would just like a reason and an idea of how long you would be staying.”

Sirius glanced at Marlene hesitantly. Clearly, he had not planned on staying here but he also had not planned on going home. Had he assumed that she would kick him to the streets? Perhaps that was what he had intended to do all along. Marlene frowned at the idea of Sirius wandering aimlessly about London, probably in his Animagus form, just to hide away from his family. She wondered how terrible they must be for him to resort to such a thing.

Marlene turned back to her parents, a resolute look on her face. “However long he needs.”

****

Grant quickly set up a cot for Sirius in Freddie’s bedroom—who was far too excited to have a roommate for the time being—and Sirius offered his thanks every five minutes with Grant dismissing it with a wave of his hand stating ��it’s just what we do, son.”

Marlene was preparing for bed in her own room when a tentative knock came from the door. “Come in.”

Her mother walked in, shutting the door behind her with a soft click before making herself comfortable on Marlene’s bed. She looked at Marlene with a curious but open expression and Marlene found herself wondering if her mother could see right through her.

“Is Sirius…someone you fancy?” She asked, and Marlene realized that perhaps her mother couldn’t see her at all.

“No.” She answered honestly, and her mother nodded, accepting the answer without question. Lottie still sat there though, mulling something around in her brain it seemed before letting it out.

“Is he in trouble?”

Marlene considered her mother’s question. The truth was that Marlene really wasn’t sure if Sirius was in trouble or not. It could just be him being his usual dramatic self and getting a kick out of ruining some extravagant family function, but somehow it felt different. The look of pure fear in his eyes when they were in that alley way was burned into her mind.

“I don’t know.” She said finally, her voice sounding more childish than she cared for. Her mother sighed, standing up and opening her arms which Marlene gratefully fell into. She closed her eyes, grateful that her parents were who they were. That they were so accepting and helpful towards everyone. It made her proud to be their daughter. She wondered idly if they would be accepting of everything or if there was some unforeseen limit to which their compassion reached.

Marlene thought about the events that occurred just a few days ago. The firewhiskey her and her friends had indulged in, intent on having one last night of fun before leaving each other for the winter holiday. She thought about the tingly feeling in her stomach as she leaned forward, placing her lips against Lily’s. She thought about the shocked look on Lily’s face and the small sound of surprise that came from Alice’s mouth. She thought about how she ran away before she could even give her friends a chance to ridicule her for her actions.

It had been eating at her ever since, and now, as her mother held her in her arms, she wondered how she would react to the idea of her daughter liking girls.

“Mum?” Marlene asked, her heart rate picking up speed and hands starting to shake.

“Yes, dear?” Lottie pulled back, a look of concern on her face.

Marlene felt her throat close up, blocking off the words she wanted to confess. I can’t do this. Not now.

“Never mind.” She breathed, looking down at her feet instead of meeting her mother’s gaze. Lottie lingered there a moment, debating whether or not to push the subject. In the end, she just hugged Marlene tighter and smoothed out her hair.

“Okay. But you can always come talk to me whenever you need, okay?” Lottie kissed her daughter’s forehead and went to leave the room, turning in the doorway just before exiting. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, mum.”

As her mother left, Marlene crawled into bed, huddling deeply beneath the blankets and turning to face the wall, finally allowing her tears to fall.

****

Marlene awoke to a frantic knocking on her door. She shot up in bed, immediately reaching for her wand and pointing it towards the doorway. What if it was the Lestranges? What if they had followed Marlene and Sirius straight to her home? What if it were the Blacks themselves, here to take their runaway heir home and punish those who gave him sanctuary?

“Marls! Open the door, it’s Freddie!”

A feeling of relief as well as slight irritation flooded through her. Freddie was tolerable most of the time, but waking her up in the middle of the night was definitely not a way to get on Marlene’s good side.

“What do you want, Mercury?” She asked as she swung the door open. Freddie was standing there, his hands twisted together and his face painted with worry and fear that immediately caused Marlene’s sour attitude toward her brother to vanish. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Sirius. He won’t stop shaking and, and I thought he was having a nightmare and so I went over to shake him awake and he…he freaked out! He screamed and pushed me away and now he’s huddled in the corner and he won’t stop crying and—”

Marlene pushed past her brother and moved down the hallway towards his bedroom. When she got there, the cot was flipped over and the blankets were in a tangled mess on the floor. Sirius was pressed against the wall, his knees tucked up against his chest and his hands pulling anxiously at his hair. He was muttering something Marlene couldn’t quite make out but whatever it was, he sounded utterly terrified. Marlene turned to Freddie who had followed closely behind her.

“Go get mom.”

Freddie nodded and raced away, seemingly grateful about being given a task. Marlene turned her attention back to Sirius. He hadn’t even noticed the two of them had come into the room, too lost in whatever memory he was reliving. Marlene had heard about this sort of behavior before, when her dad spoke of her grandfather and the effects the war had on him. The panicked breathing and dissociation that blinded a person to their realities were sure signs of post-traumatic stress, she was sure. She was also sure she that she was way out of her depth to properly break Sirius out of it, but she’d be dammed if she didn’t try.

“Sirius,” She spoke slowly, inching towards him before kneeling in front of him. He shook harder, his breath coming out in pants. Merlin, he was going to make himself pass out.

“Hey,” She grabbed his hand and he recoiled with a scream.

“No! No, please! Please don’t, it hurts.” He whimpered. Marlene felt sick and uncomfortable. This was not the Sirius Black she knew. This was a scared and hurt little boy that Marlene could not help.

“What is it?” Marlene turned. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her father and brother right behind her. She watched as Lottie’s eyes found Sirius and she motioned for Marlene to move away. Marlene obliged, standing, and watching her mother crouch down in her place.

“Sirius, sweetie? It’s Lottie. Marlene’s mom, remember?” He didn’t respond but Lottie didn’t seem deterred.

“Breathe with me, Sirius. I’m going to count and we are going to breathe.”

Marlene watched in awe as her mother calmly coaxed Sirius out of the horrific state he was trapped in. They breathed together, with Sirius attempting to match Lottie the more lucid he became. Eventually, Lottie took his hands in hers, rubbing small circles in his palms with the pads of her thumbs. She spoke softly to him, asking him questions about his surroundings and Sirius muttered back short responses. Slowly, he came back to himself. Marlene stood in the doorway, Freddie beside her still looking quite distressed and her father with an unreadable expression playing on his features.

“Marlene could you come sit here beside Sirius? I’m going to go whip up a potion for him to take. Freddie, Grant, why don’t you come help me? Give Sirius some space.”

Freddie nodded wordlessly and turned to head down the stairs followed by his father. As Marlene passed her mother, Lottie put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t make him talk about it,” She whispered, “just listen if he does.”

Marlene nodded and Lottie gave her a sad smile before leaving the two teens alone. Sirius stared down at his lap, his eyes puffy with tears and his hair a tangly mess. He seemed embarrassed and shifted slightly when Marlene took a seat next to him. She didn’t blame him. She’d be pretty embarrassed too if her whole bravado façade fell apart in front of an audience. It was quiet between them, and Marlene struggled as she thought of something to say. She wanted to ask Sirius what had happened, what kind of nightmare he’d had to cause such a reaction, but she refrained. Still, she thought she could gather a well enough idea.

“I’m thinking of cutting some fringe.” She says instead, reaching up to toy with a strand of her hair. Sirius blinks, glancing toward her and then back at his toes. “I think it’d be a nice change, you know. Eleanor Tippets has fringe and it’s quite nice looking, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never thought about Eleanor Tippets.” Sirius responds. Progress, she thinks.

“Me neither. Not really. Just noticed her hair is all.” Marlene purses her lips. “James has some wild hair, doesn’t he? Does it naturally look like that or does he do it on purpose?”

A ghost of a smile traces Sirius’ lips and Marlene feels her muscles lose a bit of the tension she was unaware she had been holding.

“It’s naturally messy, though he does run his fingers through it often.”

“When he flirts with all the girls?”

“Well, just one girl, really. He still can’t get over Evans.”

Marlene tenses a bit but forces the conversation to continue. “Lily is nice.”

“So is James. She still hasn’t given him a chance.”

Sirius was right, Marlene supposed. James Potter wasn’t exactly the poster boy for good behavior, but he was nice enough. He always helped first years with their homework and encouraged the Gryffindor Quidditch team to win the games and have fun doing it. Lily had talked about James before, to Marlene and Alice, usually to complain about how annoying he was or about what elaborate date he asked her on that week. At the time, Marlene thrilled over the fact that Lily was not into James and perhaps she imagined it was for the same reasons Marlene wasn’t into boys. Now, though, as she looked back on it, she could remember the faint blush gracing her friend’s cheeks each time James smiled at her and the way her lips would twitch upwards just before she told him to get lost.

“My parents hate me.” Sirius said suddenly. Marlene felt her heart stop. Even if she expected it, it was different to hear the words falling so painfully out of Sirius’ mouth. She looked towards him, at the hunch of his shoulders and the pain in his eyes. It was painful to see Sirius this way. He should be jumping on the bed or ranting to Marlene about David Bowie. He shouldn’t be sitting in the corner with trembling hands and a fear of his family. It wasn’t right.

“They shouldn’t hate you.” Marlene knew it was a lame response, but she didn’t know what to say. She had never prepared for a conversation like this, let alone with Sirius Black.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. I sometimes hate me.”

“Why?”

“We’re not close enough for this conversation, McKinnon.”

“Well, you’re the one who started it.”

Before Sirius could reply, Lottie had stepped back into the room, a cup held in her hand that presumably held the potion she had concocted. Sirius accepted it gratefully, attempting to put his mask of perfect manners back on, though his hands still shook as he drank. Lottie exchanged a look with Marlene, a frown on her face and pity in her eyes. Marlene looked away. She knew Sirius would hate to have any pity directed towards him so it felt wrong to accept such a look.

“You can stay in my room for the rest the night,” Marlene said, “I don’t want you to scare my brother awake with your screams again. He might just wet the bed.”

Lottie opened her mouth to scold Marlene, but Sirius just let out that barking laugh that Marlene had come to enjoy now that she had learned about Sirius’ animagus form. Her parents set the cot up in Marlene’s room quickly and said goodnight once more before shutting the bedroom door. Sirius stood awkwardly next to the cot, his hands clasped together in front of him. Marlene crawled underneath her own blankets, scooting as close to the wall as she could before patting the space next to her. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Are you inviting me into your bed, McKinnon?”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Just for sleep, you dog.”

Sirius hesitated, but slid in beside her after a moment of consideration. He was careful not to touch her, whether that was to make her more comfortable or him, Marlene wasn’t sure. She turned on her side so that she was facing him. He stared resolutely at the ceiling, his hands on his chest and eyes wide open.

“You can relax you know. I don’t bite.”

“Biting might be fun.”

“Sirius—”

“I’m kidding!”

Marlene just shook her head. What a weird day, she thought as she closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. Spending Christmas break with Sirius Black wasn’t something she had ever planned to do and now here he was, lying in her bed. Marlene wondered what Lily and Alice would say if she told them. She frowned as she thought of her friends. Would they still be her friends when she got back to Hogwarts? Or would they shy away from her, possibly even hate her. She couldn’t bear the sick feeling that washed over her at the idea of that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sirius asked. Marlene opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with an uncharacteristic look of empathy on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m thinking about how much sleep you’re costing me.”

Sirius flushed slightly, but persisted, nonetheless. “Oh, come on. Your face was all scrunched up, there’s no way you were thinking of sleep. Enlighten me, McKinnon.”

“No.”

“Is it a boy?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I have no competition.”

“Trust me when I say this, Sirius. You are not my type.”

Sirius hesitated and then, “I’m sorry for messing up your holiday. I can leave tomorrow. Find my way to James’ house. He’s more equipped to deal with this mess.”

Marlene wanted to reassure Sirius that he was no bother, that she was happy to help, but she couldn’t. Because she probably wasn’t as equipped to deal with all of Sirius’ stuff, not compared to James who knew Sirius better than anyone. Marlene suddenly felt a sense of guilt overcome her. She and Sirius had always been friends at school, chatting in the common room on occasion and sitting next to each other in history of magic, but they were never close. She supposed it was because Sirius didn’t let people get too close, no one except for James, Remus, and Peter. Not that she was any better.

“We can write him in the morning if that would make you more comfortable.” She mumbled. Sirius nodded.

“That would probably be best.”

“Sirius,” Marlene hesitated. “Sirius, I don’t want to pry or anything but…what happened? Why did you run away?”

A dark look settled over Sirius’ face and Marlene almost recoiled. Whatever happened had been bad, probably worse than Marlene could imagine. She almost regretted asking the question and was about to tell him he didn’t have to answer when he spoke in a breath.

“They tried to kill me.”

Marlene’s blood ran cold. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted Sirius to crack a teasing smile and claim that he was just being his usual dramatic self and that he was exaggerating the story and that his parents just had some old-fashioned ideas that got him in trouble when he didn’t agree with them. That she could handle. But this…god, she was going to be sick.

“Why?” Her voice sounded childish, laced with curiosity, and horrified awe.

“I…disagreed with them, as usual. But this time it was because of more personal beliefs.”

“Personal beliefs?”

“I told them I was gay.”

There was a stutter in Marlene’s heart, a sudden thrill that she wasn’t alone, such an excitement that she almost screamed “me too!” back at him. But she didn’t. Because right now was about Sirius, not her. Instead, she reached out and took Sirius’ hand. He flinched at the motion but Marlene did not let go. She could not let go, not now, not when she might be the only person who Sirius might be able to relate to, that he might be the only person who could understand her. She felt the need to cling to this, to remember this moment as Sirius told her this secret with raw vulnerability and tears in his eyes because not only was the world cruel to people like them but his own parents couldn’t see past their own prejudices to just love their son. Instead, they set out to hurt and even kill. Marlene could make this moment matter. She could make this moment a happy moment for him.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Sirius finally met her gaze, surprise evident on his face. She grinned back at him, her own eyes watering.

“I am so fucking proud of you, Sirius. For being strong enough and brave enough to stand up to your parents and be who you are. I really admire that and I am so happy that you shared it with me. Thank you.”

Sirius’ body seemed to lose all the tension he had been holding since bumping into Marlene earlier that day. God, had it only been a day? Marlene felt as though Sirius had been there for weeks, ready to burst at the seams at any moment. And this was that moment. He started crying in earnest, his body shaking and eyes becoming blinded with tears. Marlene inched forward, wrapping her arms around him, and holding him close. Her own face was wet with tears of joy and pain for her friend.

Eventually they fell asleep, wrapped tightly around each other. It was how Lottie found them in the morning.

#sirius black #marlene mckinnon #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans potter #wolfstar #jily #marauders #marauders era #sirius black angst #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #💭 by kat #romulusnuffles

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banashee · 3 years

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Hi Folks, welcome to my second fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :) @archivalpride

Archival Pride 2021, Week two (June 8-14) Prompts: identity, embrace, celebration, intersectionality, firsts

The key words I've used here are identity, embrace, celebration and firsts

Content Warnings: Once again, this is mostly a bunch of fluff but to be safe:

- the words "murder" and "crime scene" are there, but it's not related to anything serious, no one comes to harm here and it's only part of some jokes related to hair dye. - mention of Top-Surgery, nothing graphic - some swearing

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Oh and by the way? Jon's move of accidentally dousing Tim with the showerhead was taken out of real life. My best friend fucking did that to me when helping me with dyeing my hair... Thanks, Dear. @bananaink I love you lots! ♥ Thanks for being my favourite human and being a great inspiration for shenanigans like this :D

Wear your colours and be proud

“Careful! The tub already looks like we murdered a smurf, if you move too much we’ll have to clean the entire bathroom... Again.”

“Excuse me, Mx. Sims, if I recall correctly it was you who put the entire showerhead down the back of my shirt and scared the ever-loving shit out of me.” Tim complains good-naturedly, bent over the bathtub as Jon is standing over him and washes out the bright blue hair dye.

“Okay, one: it wasn’t the entire showerhead, two: there was hair dye on your neck and I didn’t think it through. Besides, I already said I was sorry!” Jon is having a hard time not bursting into laughter again – they didn’t lie, they really are sorry, but washing off the dye from Tim’s neck before it stained too much, with what they were currently holding in their hand anyway, seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do at the time. The startled yelp of a dripping wet Tim informed them that no, it wasn’t, in fact, a good idea. Who would have thought?

Jon had simultaneously apologized profusely and burst into laughter that had them wiping amused tears from their eyes. Okay, so, they hadn’t exactly planned this through as well as they could have.

“You’re laughing. I am suffering, cold and wet, and you’re laughing at my misery!” Tim laments, but the amusement that creeps into his voice absolutely betrays him. Nevermind that it is in the middle of summer and anything but cold. It is a matter of principle.

Behind him, Jon bursts into more helpless giggles – in their defense, they had too much caffeine already.

“Aw, Love, I apologize.” This time, it doesn’t sound like it at all, but they keep massaging Tim’s scalp, blunt nails scratching gently even as the water begins to run clear. The happy, satisfied hum they get in response tells them everything they need to know.

Jon has learned many many years ago that Tim will absolutely melt into a puddle under their hands if they give him head massages or even just play with his hair. They love doing it, but it also serves as a useful distraction sometimes.

“On the plus side, we’ve got two more rounds of colour to go! Plenty of opportunities for me to not do that again.” Jon tells him innocently, wraps a towel over the back of Tim’s head and squeezes out as much residue water as possible.

“Well, that’s reassuring, Dear.” He replies bluntly, but there is a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, before he gets up from the floor and then pulls Jon into a very wet, very tight full body hug, causing them to yelp.

“Tim! What the hell!”

“ Now we’re even, my Love.” Tim tells them with a shit-eating grin, and then presses a quick kiss on top of his half-heartedly glaring partner's head.

“…Would you like to blow dry it yourself or do you want me to do it?” They finally ask instead of a rebuttal, and Tim considers this for just a moment.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to do it. Cover the mirror while we’re at it, then it’s a surprise for me as well.”

“Of course, Love. Turn around?” Jon asks, and Tim does as he is asked, but not without turning the simple request into the beginning of “Total eclipse of the heart”, using a hairbrush as a makeshift microphone. Of course, he is putting his everything into the little performance. That is, until he is cut off by Jon and the hair dryer, which they are blowing directly at his face.

Somehow, Jon, Tim and most of the bathroom survive their shenanigans for long enough until Jon lifts the towel away from the mirror and lets Tim take a look at his new hair colour.

Hours ago, they started out by trimming his undercut, which is easy enough, followed by removing the rest of some particularly stubborn shade of green with bleach and giving his dark roots their own quick round of bleach. Then, the disaster with the blue dye starts. After that, the bathroom looks a bit worse for wear – indeed, it looks like a smurf crime scene and they keep joking about that. But Tim and Jon keep going, only having to take a break to fight off a giggle fit about two or three times.

Even now, after so many years with them, Tim is amazed and happy to see and hear Jon laugh like that. He hadn’t known they were even capable of being so carefree, let alone silly, when they first met. For most people, it is still a rare treat to see, if they even get that honor at all. But after many years of being together and acquiring two more wonderful and lovely partners, things are different – and even better.

They wouldn’t want to trade their family, this life together, for anything.

After a round of bright purple hair dye and much of the same, they move on to pink, and by the time that last round is done, Tim is getting more than a little excited, but truth be told, so is Jon. They really hope that they did good on this dye job – they only ever helped Tim, and many years ago, Georgie and some of their friends at Uni, to dye their hair in one solid colour. This multicolour thing is new territory for them, and they hope it turned out well. At least they’d like to think it did, but what it comes down to really, is what Tim thinks of it – it’s his head, after all.

As the towel falls from the mirror, Tim steps closer to take a look. Even under the unflattering bathroom light, his hair is shining bold and bright in the colours of the Bi Pride Flag. Pink, purple and blue in the longer hairs on top of his head, neatly sectioned off into thirds and dyed in hours of work. The smile on his face is bright and instant, but there is no trace of a joke in it. He looks really happy, and most of all, proud – as he should be.

“It’s perfect!” he exclaims, turning his head a few times to look at himself at all angles, the genuinely happy smile still plastered all over his face as he pulls Jon into another hug.

“Thank you, Love. I appreciate the help.”

“Glad you like it, then.” They pull Tim down for a kiss, fingers brushing gently over the freshly buzzed sides of his head. It’s one of those feelings they’ll never get tired of. The soft, short stubble feels incredibly satisfying, and Tim just knows he’ll spend the next few days with Jon, Martin and Sasha constantly running their hands over it. Not that he minds – as if he’d ever turn down head scritches from anyone.

Right now, just for a moment, the two of them remain standing in front of the bathroom mirror together. They are surrounded by and covered with various hair dye stains, despite best attempts to achieve the contrary. The bathroom needs a good cleaning session and both Tim and Jon are in desperate need of a change of clothes. But they look at themselves just for a moment, taking in how much they have changed over the years. It’s definitely for the better. Both of them are happy and comfortable with who they are, they have each other – and they have two wonderful people who they love dearly waiting downstairs to see the result of their hair shenanigans.

Neither of them says any of this out loud – they don’t have to. But it is Jon who breaks the silence this time.

“Let’s go show the others, we’ve been in here for hours.”

“Oh they’re fine. 5 pounds say they’ll roll their eyes and just tell us –“

“- All we heard was yelling, laughter and occasional singing, so we thought, you know, what else is new, they’ll be fine.” Sasha says without looking up from her phone. She’s nestled into Martins side, the both of them cuddled up on the couch with their phone and book, Crumpet dozing in the crook of Sasha’s knee while Gandalf has decided that a day with 26 degrees outside would be the perfect day to become a sentient scarf for Martin. The poor guy looks hot, but he doesn’t make a move to dislodge either the cat or Sasha.

Really, it is too warm to cuddle, way too warm, but what can you do? The two of them are wearing shorts and matching Hawaii shirts and have an old but steadily blowing fan facing their direction on the couch. It helps a bit, but neither of them looks to be up for much. At least it’ll cool down a bit at night.

“That about sums it up doesn’t it? Worth it though.” And with that, Tim rounds the corner, arms stretched out next to his head.

“Tadaa!”

A small cheer erupts from the couch, quickly followed by variations of

“You look great!”

Of course, Tim takes the opportunity to be dramatically fabulous and bows down in front of his audience and then makes a beeline for the couch where everyone else has now rearranged themselves.

Being the catlike human that they are, Jon is immediately by Martin’s other side, leaning in as their hands find one another. Their hair is tickling his nose, but he is so used to it by now, he simply bends down a bit to press a soft kiss against the side of their head. It’s only then that he realizes that Jon is drenched with water.

Martin huffs a laugh.

“Did you take a shower with your clothes or something?”

“No, but Tim did.” they answer, a sly grin on their lips.

“Jon means they fucking doused me. ‘By accident’ as I’ve been told as they laughed their arse off.” Tim corrects the statement, air quotes included, as he flops down on the couch on the other side. He wraps an arm around his partner, pulling them close for a moment, then his hold relaxes a bit and his fingertips travel over to Martin in search for more physical contact. He happily lets him, summer heat be damned.

Tim continues with a shrug and a shit-eating grin of his own,

“I just decided to share the joy, generous as I am.”

The explanation is met with laughter from everyone, as well as an affectionate sigh of,

“You two, I swear...”

“In our defense, you knew bloody well what you were getting into with us.”

Crumpet, annoyed by the human’s sudden loud behavior, gracefully gets up from her spot, stretches and then swaggers off, her head and tail held high. Gandalf, on the other hand, merely lifts his head from Martin’s shoulder and only stares for a bit, as if to say “What on earth are you silly creatures up to now?!” but then goes back to sleep.

Once again, it is too hot to cuddle, but that doesn’t stop any of them. At least, there is ice cream and the ancient fan that rattles for its life but still gets the job done.

It’s the end of June, and that means it’s hot, way too hot to be bearable for your regular British person, or anyone really, who doesn’t enjoy boiling themselves in their own juice.

End of June also means: its pride month and the London Pride Parade will take place very, very soon and that is a source of excitement for all four of them. Due to various circumstances in the past, this year is the first year that they can go to pride with the whole family together. That in itself is cause for celebration, really, but there are also the individual, personal milestones.

For Martin, this is the first summer and thus, the first pride that he can experience post top-surgery. That in itself has him excited to no end, and as a result, he’s spent much more time in open chested shirts than ever before. His happiness alone would make him an utterly beautiful sight, but honestly, his partners would readily admit, very vocally, that they enjoy the view an awful lot.

The first time he receives their plentiful heartfelt compliments, Martin blushes a bright scarlet red, but even more than that, there is euphoria and happiness. He might have cried a bit from being overwhelmed with too many feelings at once, but it had been a good day – a very good one.

For Jon, it is going to be the first pride they’ll spend not hiding their gender - or lack thereof, depending on the day. For many, many years, even long after they figured it out for themselves and told a handful of loved ones – mostly those in their chosen family, really – they didn’t tell anyone. Mostly for work reasons, because it seemed safer and easier in everyday life. It’s why they kept going by He/Him for their entire career in research, despite heavily preferring They/Them, but at that point, only Tim and Sasha knew.

It really helped that they would avoid pronouns at work, and only call them by their name and refer to them as They when in private.

Later then, they met Martin and got transferred into the Archives together. At this point, Jon felt comfortable enough to use their preferred pronouns at work, at least in their private circle.

As of now, they stopped caring – they deal with so much bullshit, in general and from Elias, they simply stopped giving a fuck, and this is how they explain it. All things considered, it goes over relatively well, and thankfully, no one bats an eye when they arrive at the institute in skirts or with nail polish or anything else they feel like wearing that day.

Early in the morning, with all doors and windows open in the house, so they can let in the fresh, cool morning breeze, Jon sits on the living room floor and in front of the couch. There are several bottles of nail polish scattered about in their lap, and Jon scowls with intense concentration as they slowly and meticulously paint each nail a different colour. Pink, purple and blue surrounded by two black nails on their right hand, which is still kind of drying, and yellow, white, purple and black on their left hand. They’re on their second coat by now, and as a result, their posture starts slouching again. Sasha gently pulls them back and closer to her.

“Hey, stop moving away, I’m not done yet.”

“Oh. Sorry, go on please.”

Sasha adjusts her grip on Jon’s hair. There is a tablet open on the coffee table and Sasha skips back to an earlier part of the video tutorial that is currently playing, just to check if she got everything right.

The thing is, Jon has a lot of hair as it is, but now, there are some bright purple clip-in extensions added to it. Paired with their natural black that keeps getting more and more grey over the time, it all creates a swirl of colours, dark and beautiful and very much resembling the Ace Pride flag. Originally, they would have gone for a simple, partially braided half updo but that was before Sasha had grabbed them by the bony shoulders, sat them down in front of her and said,

“Don’t move, I want to try something.” – That had been about an hour ago, but just going along with it is a lot easier than arguing with Sasha, especially when she gets excited about something.

Besides, being forced to sit still gives Jon the time they need to paint their nails properly without ruining them after 5 minutes because they couldn’t wait long enough for them to dry before they start doing something else. It also gives them the perfect opportunity to ramble on about the article they read the other day. This seems like a fair trade off: Getting a complicated hairstyle done that Sasha wants to practise, in exchange for an info-dumping monologue about tropical birds and their natural habitats.

Their cats come and go, occasionally rubbing themselves against whichever human body part is currently closest, and there may or may not be a touch of cat hair in Jon’s manicure. Then again, there is always cat hair on them. All of them - it’s part of the wardrobe at this point. .

After a while, Sasha cheerfully informs Jon,

“And it’s done! Here’s a mirror, but you’ll see better when I take a photo from the back… Hold on… And here we go.”

Truth be told, Jon isn’t sure what they expected, but it certainly wasn’t a complicated arrangement of different kinds of tiny braids, falling down the back of their head in loops and little waterfalls, far down their back, surrounding what looks like little roses in the middle made of hair. There are four of them, and Sasha managed to sneak in more of those clip-in extensions, which leads to the flowers sticking out even more – each and every one of them is one solid colour. Black in the top, followed by grey, white and purple.

“Oh, wow.” They carefully touch the back of their head – this is probably the most detailed hairstyle – or anything, really – they’ve ever worn.

“Thanks, Sasha. This is really beautiful. I, I know I’ll feel bad whenever I have to take those out again” They pull her into a tight hug that she happily slips into and squeezes back just as much.

“Thank you – I’ve always wanted to practice this, but it’s way too hard to do on my own head, my arms will fall off long before I’m done.”

“…I’d offer help, but the result won’t be anywhere near as good or intricate as yours.”

Still, Sasha smiles brightly.

“Please do. Like I said, arms are falling off and all that.”

So this is how their morning goes. By the end of it, Sasha’s long curls are in a half updo with fishtail braids and glittery hair clips in her pride colours. Black, grey, white and purple on one side of her head, two shades of green, white, grey and black on the other side. Together, they form a constellation of some sort on the back of her dark, shiny hair, and she seems to be thoroughly happy with it.

In the meantime, both Tim and Martin have managed to finish getting ready entirely. The two of them are currently sprawled out on the floor, right in front of their trusty old fan, now that it’s getting hotter again. They are holding drinks with ice cubes swimming in them.

Martin and Tim patiently wait for Jon and Sasha to be done with their hair - those two have a truly impressive head full of it each - and they do so with their legs tangled into one another. Tim and Martin are currently discussing a video game that neither of the other two is interested in - something, zombies, something something. Thankfully, it’s still early enough in the day so no one needs to rush. Besides, it’s nice to just spend time with one another, in any way that presents itself.

Meanwhile, Gandalf is living his best life. He is dozing on his back, nestled into Sasha’s lap while she happily provides pets and scritches for their giant spoiled feline wizard. Crumpet, on the other hand, has made herself comfortable on the back of Jon’s shoulders, completely unbothered by their constantly moving arms. By the time they’re finished braiding Sasha’s hair, the little black cat still clings on, even by the time they make their way to get dressed for their day out.

Jon knows it’ll be fruitless to try and dislodge Crumpet from her current place, but they still try it. Surprising absolutely no one, the little cat meows pitifully as if to say “No one in this house loves me anymore, oh how shall I live on?!”

“I know, my little void, I know. Would you mind letting go of me for, like, 2 minutes?” Jon tries to soothe, but the next attempt to pluck Crumpet off of themselves results in her digging her claws into their T-shirt. Well - technically Tim’s T-shirt, but the tiny claws still end up in Jon’s shoulder since they’re currently wearing it.

“Ow. Crumpet, please. I cannot and will not be going out in my pyjamas.”

Crumpet meows again, more intently this time. Accusingly, almost. Jon sighs - they knew this was going to happen. While they gently, very gently pry off the cat claws from their person, they try to reason:

“Yes, I love you, too. But you need to let go now, please. Thank you.” As they hold Crumpet up with both hands, to keep her from digging in her claws again, they blink slowly and return the gentle head bump, making sure the “I love you” will travel over in cat-language. Then, Crumpet is set down and immediately jumps into the open closet. Oh well.

Jon starts rummaging through the shelves, looking for a specific top. It must be in there, somewhere, but in an array of… very mismatched clothes, it’s not that easy to find.

To be fair, their part of the closet very much looks like the laundry baskets of several retirement home residents and a punk rock band got put into a blender and the result is what they wear on a daily basis. Although their work attire leans more toward cardigans and grandmother skirts than fishnets most days. Sometimes, just sometimes they’re tempted to try, just to see if they would get away with it.

On their search for the purple fishnet top, they come across a swooshy, purple skirt they haven’t seen in a long time. They acknowledge their find with a surprised but happy noise. Quickly, Jon puts it aside on the bed and as well as the shirt that falls out with it. Upon closer inspection, they realize it is a shirt that they got for their first ever pride - it’s a simple black cotton shirt with a rainbow print, slightly too big for Jon and cut off in some places to make it look more interesting. It’s survived with them since uni, and they’re pretty sure it will always have a place in their closet, even when it falls apart completely one day.

There are a lot of memories tied to it, a lot of stages to their self discovery. Naturally, it’s what they choose to wear for the big day.

When the four of them step out of their house, they all but leave a colourful trail down the street on their way to the train station. Behind them, over their front door and tied to the rails of a small balcony, a rainbow flag is blowing in the wind. It is big enough to stretch across it the entire way, something every single person in this household is very happy about.

They are chatting away and laughing, holding hands with one another for the entire way. Some people on the street shoot them odd looks - this isn’t central London, and here they stand out a lot more than they would there. But trying to find a house, let alone a flat there that is big enough for all of them, has been… Difficult. Especially since finding a place that would have a bedroom big enough for their double queen sized DIY-we-are-all-clingy-and-can’t-sleep-apart-bed while still allowing them to walk through the room has been hard. Harder even close to the city, which is why they decided to move here in the outskirts.

Living there means a longer commute to the city and the institute, but it is a small price to pay for their collective happiness.

On the train itself, there are a few more people and smaller groups, decked out with rainbows or their own specific pride flags. The closer they get to the city, the more people who are clearly coming to London for Pride Celebrations enter the carriage, and soon, everywhere is full of happy and excited people.

By the time they step out into the streets together, there are people everywhere. Most, if not all of them are proudly wearing their colours and as do Jon, Tim, Martin and Sasha.

Martin is happy and comfortable in his skin. Just like planned, he is wearing a white button up shirt with a light blue- and pink floral pattern, only closed halfway up. There are several bracelets on his wrists, one in matching pink, white and blue, one with bright pink, yellow and turquoise blue and one rainbow. Both of his arms are occupied though, with one arm wrapped around Jon and the other around Tim, whose other hand is occupied holding Sasha’s.

She chose comfort over most things, settling for Jeans shorts and another older pride shirt. Additionally, she is wearing a split Aromantic/Asexual flag wrapped around her waist like a half-skirt - and her hair, of course. The clips are sparkling in the sun, instantly noticeable in her dark hair.

Next to her, Tim is literally a walking Bi Pride Flag. His new hair colour is bright and bold as anything, shining in the sun, and then there is his shirt that stands out bold in the same shades of pink, purple and blue. Even if it wasn’t for his bright smile and loud laugh, he would be shining bright.

On Martin’s other side, happy to be able to have one arm free to gesture around with while they’re talking, Jon is looking just as fabulous. Their skirt is dark purple, and the thick soles and front of a beaten up pair of Docs are only just visible under it. They successfully found the shirts they were looking for earlier, and they are wearing a belt made out of multiple small pride flags. There are four different ones - the rainbow, pink, purple and blue, followed by black, grey, white and purple followed by yellow, white, purple and black.

Of course, there is the hair - it got them, and in addition, Sasha, many many compliments back home, where all of them admired each other shortly before leaving.

“What can you do, all of us have great hair!” Sasha had said, and is 100% correct. While her own and Jon's hair is long, thick and structured, Tim always rocks some sort of fashion colours in the fluffy tuft of hair. Martin has just as thick, defined reddish brown curls that fall into his face sometimes, and a well-kept and well-cultivated beard to match it.

There is a little bit of glitter stuck to them - all of them, actually, because no one remembered to stop Tim from getting into the loose glitter. Hence, all of them are wearing glitter now.

That stuff travels, especially if one keeps hugging or kissing the culprit who brought the sparkly plague along in the first place. And it’s not like any of them keeps their hands off of each other for long. So, it spreads… It doesn’t take long at all until the tiny, sparkling specks find their way to everyone else.

There is no doubt that they will carry the remains of it into the office next Monday, whether they want to or not. But right now, they couldn’t care less. They are here to enjoy the day, enjoy themselves and be proud to show their colours.

For once, they fit right in.

#Archival Pride 2021 #season 1 polycule #tma fanfic #banashee writes #the magnus archives #queer and fluffy

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Note

"You don't have to worry I'm never going to touch you" with Dan pls????

Title: War of Hearts

This is definitely an AU and I am not apologizing. I’ve been watching the American TV show North and South. This is what happened.

When the war office had contacted you to let you know that your father was missing in action, the world had slowed. Your mother fell to her knees, and you saw her pray for his safe return. It was an act of desperation she had not shown in the years since your father had left to fight in the war, saying that she trusted God to bring him home and to pray for his safe return would be an act of doubt. Now, you watched fear overtake that feeling of assuredness. You watched her break as she buried her face in your skirts. Your roles reversed as you found yourself comforting her as she had always comforted you.

Locking eyes with the officer on your front step, you nodded. He gave you a regretful nod and left you to pick up the pieces.

Since then, days in your household were quiet. It was almost as if your mother were afraid that showing any sense of normalcy would be to show some higher power that your father was not truly needed, but you knew the truth. Your father was the other half of her heart. Without him, she was only half living. It was hard to watch, especially since you had no way of helping her cope, because you couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be so tethered to another person.

One day, you were sitting on the window seat in the parlor. Your needlework rested in your lap as you looked out at the sun shower on the other side of the glass. You always found sun showers to be a hypocritical kind of weather. It was as if the sky were offering hope while also mourning a loss. Looking to the west, you could see clearer skies, which you looked forward to, contemplating on taking a ride before dinner just to get out of the house.

Movement caught your eye, and you turned towards the source. There was a horse riding through the gate of the house at top speed with two men atop it. One seemed worse for wear.

You were to your feet and running to the door, calling out for your mother. The door was thrown open as the horse came to a stop in front of the steps.

Feet raced towards you and your mother was out in the rain helping the wounded man from his horse. “Oh, darling,” she cried as she reunited with your father.

The other man wrapped an arm around your father’s back to lead him back into the house. Together with your mother, they got him up and into bed while you sent for the doctor.

Once the doctor arrived, you were making tea to serve to this other man who had accompanied your father home. Out of the corner of your eye, you appraised him.

He was handsome, albeit a tad scruffy. Then again, the war had run long and you figured that men weren’t as concerned with their physical appearance as much as they were concerned with survival.

“Tea, Captain?” you asked as you set the tray on the table.

“I’ll have a cup, since you went through all the trouble,” he murmured, taking the proffered saucer. He watched you wearily, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“You must have ridden for a long time,” you murmured as you settled on the sofa across from him.

“We road for days, Miss,” he replied, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup, no doubt wishing it was something stronger. “After the battle, we were separated from our unit. Then we came across a few rebel scouts. Your father was injured while we... dispatched them. I promised him I’d get him home to recover.”

“Father’s last letter through the lines said he was marching South and we would not hear from him for a while. You’re meaning to tell me that you made your way through rebel lines just to get him home?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Miss, the General has always had my back. I just wanted to have his,” he said with a small smile.

You nodded, “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Captain...?”

“Torrance,” he murmured. “Dan Torrance.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain Torrance, I’d like to check on my father,” you replied, getting up to leave.

When you reached the upstairs bedroom, you found your father propped up in bed. His eyes lit up when he saw you, “Well, if it isn’t my pride and joy.”

Your corners of your eyes crinkled as you came over to sit on the edge of his bed. Taking his hand, you placed a kiss to his knuckles, “You gave mother quite a scare.”

“I always keep her on her toes,” he said playfully, but there was guilt in his eyes.

“We’re just glad you’re home,” you murmured, “Captain Torrance told me he snuck you through Rebel lines.”

“That the boy did. I’ll see to it that there’s a promotion in his future,” your father grinned. “He’s a fine man.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And he’ll make a fine husband.”

“I’m sure his wife will be lucky to have him,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’d like to see the two of you wed before he’s called back,” your father said pointedly.

“Wed?” you asked, trying to keep your voice under control. “But, father, I hardly know the man.”

“Darling, I want to know that should something happen to me, that you and your mother will be taken care of. I trust Captain Torrance with my life,” your father said adamantly.

“And I am expected to trust him with my heart?” you asked incredulously. Shaking your head in disbelief, you got up to leave, ignoring how your father called after you.

Making your way down the stairs, you locked eyes with the Captain through the doorway as he sat across from your mother, no doubt regaling her with tales of his bravery. You felt hollow. The world seemed to spin like when your corset had been laced too tight when you were younger. You needed air. Stumbling towards the door, you walked out into the sun shower, walking blindly towards the garden.

A sun shower, you thought with disdain, the sun shining because my father has returned, yet mourning the loss of my freedom.

Footsteps thudded on the ground behind you and the rain stopped pelting your back. You looked up to see an umbrella over your head as the holder stood in the downpour.

“I take it he told you,” Captain Torrance sighed.

“Were you expecting a blushing bride?” you sniffed, “Because you will be sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

You rounded on him, “Oh, so you don’t even want me?”

Somehow, that hurt worse. You could see it in his eyes that he knew he regretted the words.

“Please, just come back inside,” he pleaded.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded and followed him back into the house. You parted ways with him once inside, retreating to your room.

Captain Torrance stayed with your family, but you skirted around him to the best of your ability. Part of you figured that you should try to get to know him, seeing as he was to be your husband, but you needed to work through your own feelings first.

Anger melted into nervousness as your wedding day approached. As you stood in front of your mirror, turning this way and that in your dress, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest.

“He’s a nice man,” your mother stated from the doorway.

“So I’ve been led to believe,” you sighed, smoothing out your dress.

Your mother crossed over to pick up your veil from the vanity. Carefully, she nestled it into your hair. “Your father wouldn’t make this match if he didn’t trust him.”

“I know,” you admitted, turning towards her. “Part of me just hoped that I would have some say in such a momentous decision.”

“That’s a luxury few have,” your mother said with a small smile.

“But you love father,” you replied.

“I didn’t always,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Your father and I were married as part of an arrangement our fathers made when they were at West Point together. It further solidified their friendship. Growing up, I greatly disliked your father.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “He used to pull my pigtails and made fun of my freckles during the summer.” A far away look entered her eyes. “Then we grew up. He was no longer that boyish brute I had known. He grew into a handsome man with kind eyes who protected me from the world. When we married, we were only friends, but my dear that is the best foundation. Love grew swiftly as we learned to laugh with one another. Then we had you,” she smiled wide, “and I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

You leaned against your bed post, “Do you think I can have that with Captain Torrance?”

“I think you can have whatever you dream as long as you keep an open mind,” she replied, getting up. “Now, come along, dearest. Everyone is waiting.”

Nodding, you let your mother lead you down the stairs to where your father was waiting. You took his good arm and walked with him down the aisle.

Although the priest was speaking, you barely heard him over the thud of your heart. In truth, you weren’t very present in the moment. Instead, your mind was racing ahead to that night, wondering what was to become of you. Your betrothed vowed himself to you in words you did not hear, and you repeated your own back like you were reciting a poem. Captain Torrance’s hand was so warm around yours as he gave you reassuring squeezes every once in a while. Every squeeze brought you back to the moment and sent you drowning in a concerned pair of blue eyes.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the priest stated.

You tensed up, expecting it to be awkward as Captain Torrance cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. It was short and sweet, and for some reason you were disappointed. However, it wasn’t disappointment in the kiss itself. It was disappointment in the fact that it was so short.

The two of you turned out to face your guests, walking through them towards the reception. As you split apart to mingle, you came up with the brilliant idea of dancing the night away with anyone who would ask, hoping it would extend the night and make you too tired to perform your marital duties later. You took turn upon turn around the room, passing hands and entertaining your guests. At first, you didn’t care what your new husband did, catching him talking to your guests here and there out of the corner of your eye. However, you found it strange that he did not ask to cut in.

As the clock struck nine, you gracefully removed yourself from the dance floor to find him. He was nowhere in the house. Only when you stepped out into the cool night air did you find him on the porch with a glass in his hand. Drawing closer, you noticed it was just water.

“No liquid courage?” you teased.

A sad smile settled on his face as he looked down at the glass in his hands, “No. I only run on true courage or cowardice these days.”

“You can’t be a coward if any of the tales my father has told me this week are to be believed,” you murmured as you leaned against the railing next to him.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you as you looked out into the night. It was as if both of you didn’t know the words to say. You noticed him studying you, eyes trailing down your features as if trying to memorize them. His hand rested inches from yours, but he didn’t dare to move it closer.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said softly, “I’m never going to touch you.”

“Then what exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Enough that I won’t ever demand that of you,” he replied.

“Right,” you smiled ruefully, “I’m sure the stocks in my father’s company that he undoubtedly gave you can buy you the finest ladies.” The words were said with a tinge of resentment at the fact that you were now trapped in a marriage while he could still look elsewhere.

Dan wet his lips before turning away, “I refused them. After all, I didn’t earn them.”

You turned to him in shock, “Then what do you get out o this arrangement?”

“A companion,” he said before downing the rest of his drink, “Now, we should head back inside before our guests miss us. After all, I believe I owe you a dance. If you aren’t too tired of dancing yet, that is.” He held his arm out to you. After a moment of bewilderment, you took it, allowing him to lead you back into the fray.

Once inside, his smile slid back on his face and you somehow felt at ease. But, in the back of your mind you registered just how strange your situation was. You were the wife of Captain Torrance. You knew he was a good man, but in your heart you also knew you had just married an enigma. There was so much more beneath the surface that you could only wonder if you would ever truly know him.

#dan torrance x reader #dan torrance #doctor sleep #dan x reader

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personasintro · 5 years

Text

Next Door | myg [oneshot]

⏤𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; Your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

⏤𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mentions of masturbation, strong language, dirty talk, oral sex [female and male receiving], spanking, slight ass play, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm

⏤𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff (?), smut

⏤𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 10.3k

m.list / ko-fi

A/N: Yes cats can growl. Also, don’t forget to follow me for more ^.^ and let me know what you think about this one!

A big groan leaves your lips as you cover your ears while shutting your eyes. The sound of loud music echoing throughout your bedroom even through your covered ears. Fucking asshole. You curse at your fucking rude neighbor who blasts his music every night and if not — you can hear some whiny girly moans as the headboard of his bed bangs against the thin wall. You already live here for two months — two months with constant disturbance caused by your neighbor. You check the clock on your phone.

10:05pm.

Another bass echoes throughout the thin walls. That’s it. You angrily put your slippers before tying up your fluffy pink robe. You storm out of your apartment, legs stopping in front of your neighbor’s front door. Knocking, you cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him to get his rude ass over there. As you wait a whole minute for him to open the freaking door — there’s nothing happening. You can still hear the music blasting through his apartment and that’s when you decide to angrily knock on his front door. Over and over again. You’re ready to kick the door when they suddenly open causing you to stop your movements.

The first thing you notice are his sharp eyes glancing down at you. You’ve seen him couple of times, but not so close. Black T-shirt is hugging his torso as gray sweatpants match his whole outfit. “Can I help you?” he quirks his eyebrows at you, looking at you with annoyed expression. That audacity.

You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your hands over your chest once again showing your annoyance towards him. “Yeah, can you turn the volume down?” you ask as he just stares at you.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, as his lips stretches to a little smirk. He sees the annoyance and anger on your face and it amuses him. You standing there in your fluffy robe and ridiculous slides. Who the hell dresses like that?

“Obviously. It’s already ten.” you inform him as he just shrugs his shoulders.

“And?”

“And? Turn the volume down or I’m calling police!” you bark at him loosing your patience. But you only grow even angrier and annoyed when you see the amused expression he holds.

“No need to be so snappy, kitty.” He muses as he sees your face getting red. Red from anger.

“Kitty?” you say through your gritted teeth as you see he has a one big show from this.

“Okay, I’ll turn the volume down. Happy?” he rolls his eyes as your lips twitches in annoyance.

You don’t say anything back, scared you’d probably slap him across his handsome face. As you turn around, you hear his voice. The raspy and sweet voice but at the same time too annoying.

“Oh, by the way... nice slippers, kitty.” he says with smirk before closing his front door. You look at the closed door dumbfounded before adverting your eyes to your slippers. To your very comfortable and fluffy slippers with cat’s plushie head. Kitty. That asshole. You angrily storm inside your apartment — silent apartment.

Thank god.

You smack your lips in delight from the amazing sleep you managed to got. The fresh sheets feels amazing on your body and skin as the scent of your fabric softener fills your nose. Blissful. You’re awake but your eyes stay closed while you're enjoy the sound of birds warbling outside. The soft sound of little ‘meow’ is heard — maybe too close for it to be outside. You open your eyes to see a white cat sitting on your bed looking straight at you. You jump in your bed causing the cat hiss at you as you’ve scared her.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim with your raspy slash morning voice as you stare at the small pet glaring at you. How did it get here?

You knew you should’ve left your balcony door closed. You wouldn’t leave it opened, if this summer wouldn’t be too hot at nights to bare it without air conditioning. Which you don’t have, so the only option was to sleep with opened windows and balcony door. You step on your balcony, sun blinding you for a moment causing you to squint your eyes at the brightness. You’re trying to find where the cat could come from, since you’re living on the third floor it couldn’t jumped in from the tree. You look to your right seeing your neighbor’s — annoying neighbor’s — balcony door opened. Of course it’s his cat. You’ve seen him couple of times with a cat food in his hands as he came from the grocery shopping. Poor cat. Thanks to the balconies being really close to each other, it was no trouble for the cat to jump into yours. You walk in to your bedroom seeing the cat sitting on the same spot.

“Okay, you gotta go,” you tell her as you’re trying to forget the fact you’re talking to an actual cat. You try to pick her up only for her to hiss at you, her nose scrunching as she reveals her sharp teeth. “Fucking cat, even his cat is rude.” you mumble as you’ve jumped in fear.

Reaching for your robe, putting on your kitty slippers your neighbor commented about — you barge out of your apartment. You knock violently against his front door, your morning ruined by him once again. And his freaking cat. Your stomach grumbles in desperate need of breakfast and coffee, but no, here you’re banging on his door once again.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop knocking so much?” he grumbles as he opens his front door seeing you. His hair is tousled as he squints his eyes at you. You woke him up. But you don’t even feel bad about it. Your eyes has mind on their own as you check out his pyjamas. Black T-shirt with some dark blue pyjamas shorts hugs his posture perfectly and you hate him for that. His simple pyjamas looks perfect on him even though he looks tired. Although, he smirks at you as he sees you checking him out.

You blush standing your ground as you quickly advert your eyes away from him. “Your fucking cat is in my apartment!” you bark at him. “It had to go through your balcony to mine.” you explain.

“She.” he speaks as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?” you look at him dumbfounded, already annoyed with his presence.

“It’s she. Not it.” he informs you with annoyance causing you to roll your eyes.

“I don’t fucking care. Take it,” you demand and he raise his eyebrow at you. “Take it or I’m throwing it out of the balcony!” you say maybe too exaggerated but you don’t care.

“You wouldn’t dare!” he gasps as he angrily shoots you a nasty glare. Of course you wouldn’t. You love animals which includes cats as well — but he doesn’t know that. Plus it seems like that cat doesn’t like you.

“Oh, watch me,” you provoke him as you’re turning around already opening your front door. His loud steps are following you before he barges inside your home completely dismissing you. “Hey! You can’t just walk in!” you call out at him as he ignores you calling his cat’s name.

“Holly!” he calls out as he whistles the sound of loud 'meow' coming from your bedroom. She runs to her owner already rubbing her body against his legs. He picks her up as she purrs loudly. He turns around walking out of your home as you’re following him.

“You’re welcome!” you yell at him but he ignores you as you angrily shut your front door.

You’re in the middle of doing your grocery shopping as you notice familiar figure couple of meters away. He glances at the different cups of ramen as he tosses a few into his little basket. You turn around with annoyance already creeping its way out as you remember his rude trespassing to your home. You’re walking to a different direction, purposely, as you’re taking all of your groceries from the basket ready to pay for it. There’s a kind woman as a cashier, greeting you politely before scanning your items. You glance behind you seeing him standing right there already looking at you. None of you say ‘hi’ while both of you look annoyed as hell. You kindly smile at the cashier as you pay for your items putting it in your plastic bag. It takes you a while as he pays for his own stuff, mostly ramen and cat’s food. By the time you already hid your groceries, you’re both walking out of the store. You stop in your tracks as rain is pouring, the nitrous air fills your nose. And of course, you forgot to bring an umbrella. You didn’t even know it was supposed to rain! You quickly walk squinting your eyes as the rain hits your face wetting your clothes and hair.

“Do you want a ride?” you hear him as he opens his car with the car keys. The look of surprise doesn’t go unnoticed. You really need it but the way he’s looking at you with those sharp eyes like he’s already regretting asking you that.

“No, thanks.” you mutter as you start walking away.

“Fine, then be drenched by rain.” he yells unbothered making you stop in your tracks. He’s right. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any second and you still have at least ten minutes walk to your apartment building. And you’re already getting drenched up and the last thing you need is for you to get sick.

“Fine.” you say quickly walking to his car, already sitting in it.

He doesn’t say anything simply turning the engine on. The way to your home is awkward, as the droplets of rain are hitting the car but it oddly feels calm. “So, I don’t get ‘thank you’ from you?” he speaks as he stops his car to let people pass by with their umbrellas at crossing.

“You mean the thank you I never got?” you quirk your brow at him as he doesn’t spare you a glance, looking at the road in front of him. You’re looking all annoyed at him but you secretly admire him as the black hoodie looks way good on him with his matching black cap.

“Thank you for what?” he asks confused as you scoff.

“For getting your cat, of course.” you answer while shaking your head in disbelief. Did he already forget?

“The last time I checked, I was the one who got her.” he says and you gape at his rudeness.

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve disrupt my home privacy by barging in like you own it.” you scoff as he chuckles.

“I was trying to get Holly back,” he simply says and you’re quite surprised. No rude response? You almost feel bad for being so rude to him. “And if I were you I wouldn’t go there since you’re the one barging on my doorstep every day.” he adds as he spits those words at you. You take it back. You definitely don’t feel bad about your attitude.

“W—what?” you gape at him in disbelief as you see satisfied smirk on his lips and if he wouldn’t be driving, you would barge at him. Luckily for him, your safety is on the first place. “If you would stop blasting that awful music so loud I wouldn’t be doing that! I’m not even talking about how you should shut up your girl’s mouth!” you bark at him, frustration clear in your voice.

“Maybe I should shut yours,” he says casually and you open your mouth as you gasp. What does he meant by that? Did he think— “That wasn’t what I was planning but I guess it worked.” he adds obviously amused by your frustration. He’s making fun of you and if it wouldn’t be raining, you’d rather be walking for an whole two hours than to ride with him.

Thankfully, he parks in front of your apartment building and you’re quickly stepping out of the car. You think you’ll be able to avoid him and snatch elevator so he’d have to wait for it or go by the stairs, but he easily catches to you and you huff in annoyance. “Where are your manners?” he speaks to you, obviously trying to get some reaction from you. And you wouldn’t give him that pleasure, although your sharp tongue just has to interfere.

“Where your politeness is.” you say as you step into the elevator, hitting the ‘3’ button as he slowly walks in.

“Real classy, kitty.” he chimes as you groan.

“Stop calling me that!” you huff in annoyance.

“Then what should I call you? I don’t know your name.” he shrugs his shoulders and you’re ready to tell him to fuck off — but then he’d be just calling you that all the time and that ridiculous nickname or pet name, whatever the fuck that is, irritates the hell out of you.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” you tell him as he stays silent. You look at him making sure he heard you, but of course he did. There’s no way he didn’t hear you.

You quirk your brows at him as he glances at you. Silent and grumpy ‘what?’ leaves his soft and small lips. His eyes somehow covered by his cap but you still manage to see them. “What’s yours?” you ask.

“I’m not telling you.” he shrugs and you gasp as the elevator door opens. You both walk out as you’re gaping at him with opened mouth.

“But I told you mine!” you trail after him, offended he tricked you. “That’s not fair.” you whine as he looks for his keys.

“Bye, kitty.” He gives you last smirk as he opens his door disappearing in his home. Fucking asshole.

The whole week filled with silence in your home gave you at least some kind of peace — thinking he probably gave up making your life miserable. But then you hear the familiar banging against your bedroom wall. The headboard of his bed banging loudly, waking you up. You’re trying to fall asleep while trying to ignore the awful and very loud moans. Fuck. You sit on your bed violently banging on your wall with your fists. It hurts but you don’t care as long as he gets the message. But then you hear his voice pretty clearly.

“Come on, louder.” he encourages the girl as you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

The girl suddenly whines loudly as she’s gasping for air. Soon enough you hear her reaching her climax as you can hear their skin slapping against each other. You don’t want it — but you imagine the way he must look as he tries to reach his climax. Soon enough you don’t feel anything. Did he cum? What the fuck? Why do you even care, Y/N? And then you shut your eyes trying to control your beating heart. He knew you heard him. He knew it all but he still continued. What a prick. It takes twenty freaking minutes for you to fall asleep once again. This time your dreams filled with your neighbor fucking you.

You’re about to take your trash out as you see your neighbor’s door being opened. A girl, no a woman, walks out of his door closing it after her. She isn’t definitely much younger or older than you, probably around the same age. Her hair somehow curled, which used to be probably nice curls but after her wild night it’s all messed up now. You sigh as you’re locking your front door. She stops looking at you before coughing awkwardly.

“Sorry for being loud.” she says before quickly scurrying away not waiting for any of your response. At least she has some guts to apologize. When you’re returning back, after taking your trash out you see him. He walks out of his apartment in fitted jeans with white shirt, jeans hugging his ass perfectly.

He looks your way feeling your eyes on him. “Oh, it’s you.” he mumbles and you’re already fuming.

“Yeah, it’s me.” yoou bark at him annoyingly as he rolls his eyes not even trying to do it discreetly. “What the fuck was yesterday?” you exclaim as he thinks about for a moment.

“A Friday, I think.” he shrugs his shoulders as he shows his keys to his back pockets.

“You know what I mean!” you say angrily as his lips twitches in amusement. Of course, he knows what you mean. But it’s too fun for him to stop irritating you.

“I don’t recall.” he acts like he tries to remember and you groan. “You fucking some chick! You know I could hear you! You did it purposely!”

He chuckles as he shows his fingers in his pockets. He looks hot, but you’d never say it out loud. “Oh, so you were listening? Did you enjoy it?” he asks amused as you’re ready to take off your shoes just to throw it at him.

“Fucking prick! What do you think about me? I don’t care who you’re fucking as long as your mouths are shut!” you tell him angrily as you see him looking at you unbothered — like this is not even about him.

“Look, it’s not my fault you’re not getting laid. Stop ruining my fun.” he says as you gape at him like some fish.

“W—what? What do you know about my sex life? Wait, it’s none of your business!” you ramble as he easily got you even more frustrated.

“Oh, come on,” he huffs, clearly not believing you. “Anyway, as much as I would like to talk to you about sex, I have better things to do. Bye kitty.” he waves at you as you give him your middle finger, making sure he sees it as he only smirks at you disappearing in elevator.

You started to think his purpose on this world is to annoy you all the time. You’re watching your television trying to mute out the noises and laughter coming from his apartment. 11:08pm — it shows on your clock. Your eyes tiredly closes but you can’t sleep due to the noise. Are you the only one who hears that? Why isn’t anyone else complaining? Yeah, maybe it’s because there’s an old couple living on the next side of his apartment and they can barely hear. One time you had to scream at that old lady ‘good morning’ because she couldn’t hear you. You’re already tired of constantly knocking on his door like some bitch who’s constantly complaining. But on the other hand — why you should be a bitch? Because you’re trying to have some peace after your whole day in work? Of course, young people like to party and invite their friends over. Or even blast their music, who doesn’t do that? But not every-fucking-day. You sigh already walking to his door — it’s almost like some ritual. The door awfully familiar to you — even though you’ve the same — but his door mat of cat’s meme as it shows its middle finger is definitely different than from your basic beige one. You tiredly knock but still manage to knock louder in case he’d hear you. Soon enough there’s a blonde hair peeking out from the door. He opens the door wider smiling at you with his eye smile.

“Hello, can I help you?” he asks kindly as you’re making sure you knocked on the right door. You look down at the rug — yup, it’s the right door.

“Mmm—“ “Walt? Are we being too loud?” he asks as you only nod. “Aish, I told them to be quiet but Yoongi said it’s fine.” Yoongi?

“It’s okay, I just—“ you wave at him, feeling like he’ll take care of the noise but he cuts you off. “Come in, you probably want to talk to him not to me.” Talk to who? Your neighbor? Hell no.

“No, that’s not really necessarily, I’m actually going to—“

“Nonsense, come in or they’ll continue in being loud,” he says already pulling you in into your neighbor’s home. Surprisingly enough, his home smells nice. The sweet scents of coconut, wood and something you can’t quite put your finger on fills your nose. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” he tells you before leading you further to your neighbor’s home. His interior is minimalistic, modern and very clean which surprises you. He definitely has some taste in house interior. You can already tell his apartment is bigger than yours and even that small fact annoys you somehow. You don’t even know why. There’s a group of guys sitting in spacious living room as big screen television is on the wall.

“Guys, we’ve a visitor.” he speaks loudly so the rest of the group stops chattering before looking at you. Your eyes are already focused on Yoongi as he sits on his sofa staring at you confusingly. Before none of you can say the word, someone beats you to it.

“Y/N?” you hear curious voice as your eyes follow the sound finding your co-worker sitting on the floor staring at you surprisingly. “What are you doing here?”

“Jeongguk?” you ask as you see him already smiling at you revealing his bunny smile.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Jimin asks dumbfounded and you notice his reddened cheeks while he keeps smiling all the time. He’s tipsy.

“Yeah, we’re co-workers.” Jeongguk answers happily as you feel your neighbor’s eyes on you. “But what are you doing here? I’m hanging out with my friends.”

“I live here.” you inform him as his eyes widen in shock. “Wait! Yoongi is your neighbor?” he asks loudly causing everyone in the group watching the scene in front of him.

Yoongi?

So that’s his name. You smirk at Yoongi with knowing look saying something like ‘ha! I know your name now!’. He glares at you while you feel satisfaction.

“So he’s the neighbor you complained about?”

Damn, Jungguk and his mouth. But you nod nevertheless. “Yeah, the one and only.” you grumble giving Yoongi a fake smile and he shows you his middle finger.

“Guys, I told you we’ve to be quiet. We probably woke you up.” Jimin says pouring at you like he knows you for the longest time — except you’ve met like literally five minutes ago.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry, I just thought...” you trail off awkwardly. I just thought Yoongi is doing it on purpose — you wanted to say but you stopped yourself. “Never mind. I’m leaving.” you say as you quickly wave them off not noticing Yoongi standing up.

He walks you to his front door little smirk playing on his lips. “What?” you grumble as he leans against his door frame when you’re out of his home.

“I didn’t know you’re talking about me with your co-workers.” he muses as he cocks his head to side enjoying your annoyed face.

“I’m not talking about you. I’m complaining about you.” you inform him.

“Yeah, you complain while you’re talking.” he shrugs and you annoyingly turn around.

“Whatever, leave me alone.” you grumble again.

“You came to my home. I didn’t even invite you in.” he calls out to you, not loudly though.

“Yeah, like you did couple of weeks ago. We’re even, I guess.” you call out to him back as you’re opening your doors with keys.

“Goodnight, kitty.” he says with little smirk on his lips as he looks incredibly hot and like a douchebag at the same time.

But you smirk at him back, waving at him; “Bye, Yoongi.” His name rolls off your tongue smoothly as you don’t wait for his reaction. Simply closing the door with satisfied grin on your lips.

Yoongi storms into his apartment glaring at his friend as soon as he sees his blonde hair and innocent smile. “Did you have to seriously do that?” he grumbles as he sits back to his seat, reaching for a beer.

“Do what?” Jimin asks cluelessly as Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.

“Invite her in.” he answers grumpily as he feels Jungguk’s eyes on him.

“Why? You don’t like her or what?” This time his other friend asks, Hoseok, as he doesn’t understand Yoongi’s reaction. You seemed nice and polite, why does he looks so freaking annoyed and irritated?

“She’s that fucking annoying neighbor who complains all the time, the one I mentioned you.” he explains as he still remembers your little smirk as you said his name. He doesn’t even know why it pisses him off so much. It’s just a name. But it seems like a constant competition between you two.

“Ah, I remember you mentioning her.” Hoseok hums as he clearly remembers Yoongi’s words ‘she’s so fucking annoying’.

“Hyung, I don’t want to be rude but... you’re the one who always blasts your music and is extremely loud.” Jeongguk comes to your rescue, as he sees his friend already glaring at him with those sharp eyes.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re co-workers.” Yoongi says mockingly causing Jungguk to furrow his brows. Well, he definitely understands why you called his friend a ‘fucking rude prick’. Also Jungguk remembers the way he cursed at his friend without knowing he’s the one you two talked about saying; ‘Wow, he’s so fucking rude. You should call police.’

“We are. But I didn’t have any idea you’re the one she complains about.” he shrugs innocently as Yoongi rolls his eyes. Of course you had to complain to someone. Miss Uptight Prude.

“Your place is nice, but don’t you want to have more flowers in here? It’s kind of dead here.” Your mom comments as you’re preparing plates on your dining table.

“Love, this is her home. Let her be.” Your dad comes to your rescue as you smile at him which he gladly returns.

As you’re waiting for your food to heat, there’s a huge conversation between your parents. A loud conversation. Your mom video calls to your older sister who’s on her vacation in America, causing her to speak very loudly because the connection is bad. You massage your temples as your mom yells ‘We miss you baby!’ to your older sister as she tries to hear what she’s saying. This causes your mom to say it, no more like yell couple of more times. You’re ready to tell her something, when there’s a knock on your front door.

“I’m gonna get door, someone’s knocking.” you inform your parents as they’re completely ignoring you trying to hear your sister’s words. You roll your eyes at them not understanding why don’t they just decline the call since the connection is pretty bad.

Opening your door you reveal one pair of sharp eyes looking at you grumpily as you widen your eyes in shock. What is he doing here? “Yoongi?” you ask as you see him irritably inhaling. You almost want to smirk at him but you stop yourself.

“You’re being fucking loud.” he complains as you lean onto your door frame.

“Oh? So what?” you ask irritating him even more. But that’s what he deserves for constantly being so loud.

His eyebrow irritably twitches as he purses his lips. “Mute it down or I’m calling cops.” he says sternly and you loudly gasp ready to throw a numerous amount of curses at him, when you feel hands on your shoulders slightly pushing you away.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know you’re expecting someone.” Your mom smiles at your evil neighbor.

“I’m not—“ you try to say as your mom waves your hand at you cutting you off with her own voice. Plain rude.

“Hello, I’m Y/N’s mom. It’s so nice to meet you!” she says happily. Yoongi looks for a second at her outstretched hand as he gives you a look. The one where he mischievously grins taking your mom’s hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Min Yoongi.” he introduces himself and that’s when you realize he said his full name. Min Yoongi. It sounds too nice for belonging to a devil with angel looking face.

“Are you Y/N’s friend?” she keeps getting more curious as she doesn’t see the warning eyes you have set on Yoongi. He clearly sees them as he smirks at you.

“I am.” he nods and you gasp at him ready to call him out on his huge lie. But then of course, your mom interrupts whatever you’ve been planning as she opens your door wider.

“Come in! We’re just about to have a dinner!” she says and Yoongi casually walks in. He walks in like he’s been there hundreds of time which he hasn’t. Expect that one time when he rudely came in to get his devil cat.

“Honey! We’ve a visitor!” Your mom calls to your dad as he puts his phone to his pocket. Thank god, they stopped calling. It’d be even more embarrassing. Wait, since when do you care about what Yoongi thinks? Your parents introduces to Yoongi as he kindly shakes your dad’s hand. He even freaking bows to your parents. You’re quite surprised to see him being so polite, but of course it’s just his fake side of him.

“Do you want to have a dinner with us? Y/N cooked for us.” Your mom says as you’re gripping the spatula in your hand.

“Actually, I—“

But the devil himself cuts you off, as you hear his soft voice. “Of course.” he nods and is already sitting at your dining table.

He doesn’t see your face, since you’re standing with his back to him, but he knows he just annoyed the shit out of you. And you also know he’s having a victorious grin without even looking at him. When you put food on everyone’s plate you’re silently eating as you feel completely awkward as you sit next to Yoongi. He silently eats the food you cooked and it seems like he likes it, since he doesn’t have some sarcastic remarks. Although, he probably wouldn’t have when your parents are here.

“So, how long have you been living here?” Your mom asks as she takes another bite of the food. He mentioned he’s your neighbor as they introduced themselves. Yoongi gulps as he looks at your mom who sits on the other side of you.

“For a year.” he answers and your brows surprisingly shoots your eyebrows. He lives here for a year already?

“How do you like living here? Both of you?” she asks as she looks at the both of you, trying to make a conversation. Yoongi opens his mouth to answer her but you quickly chime in.

“I mean, there’s this annoying neighbor who doesn’t know what silence is. He’s extremely loud with his music and different... stuff.” you answer your mouth pursing your lips at Yoongi as he glares at you.

“That must be so annoying!” Your mom exclaim as she puts her hand over her heart.

“Then there’s this other neighbor who complains all the time knocking on his door every day.” he tells your mom and you glare at him. It’s very immature for the two of you doing this, but you simply don’t care.

“I don’t like people who complain a lot,” Your mom says as a smug grin appears on Yoongi’s lips. You can see him from your peripheral vision but you don’t give him that satisfaction of looking at him. “First of all, this is an apartment building, so it’s clear there would be some noise.” Yoongi nods to her, loud ‘exactly’ leaving his mouth as you roll your eyes.

“Well, first of all, even though this is an apartment building, there should be still some rules.” you speak loudly causing your mom to widen her eyes little bit.

“Of course,” she nods as you sigh continuing eating because you won’t ruin your appetite because of Yoongi. “Well, at least the two of you get along.” she says happily as you and Yoongi exchange your looks.

The rest of the dinner is spent in silence and as everyone finishes eating, your parents leave. They say goodbye to you and Yoongi also, as he doesn’t leave. You’re cleaning your kitchen as you see him standing there watching you.

“What are you still doing here?” you ask raising your brow at him.

“I don’t even know. Bye, kitty.” he waves at you as he leaves. He didn’t even try to help!

“Asshole!” you yell hoping he heard you, continuing in scrubbing the grease off your pan.

What is better way to wake up than waking up with amazing smell of pancakes filling your home. You open your eyes as sunlight blindes you for a moment. Your stomach grumbles at the amazing smell which definitely isn’t coming from your home. You walk to your balcony seeing Yoongi’s balcony door opened as well. The amazing smell is coming from his apartment. You sigh as you walk to your fridge to find it almost empty. Also, there is no ingredients to make pancakes which you’re craving thanks to your neighbor. But there’s an idea creating in your mind, as you’re already brushing your teeth and trying to make yourself look somehow more presentable. You’re already knocking on his door, the absurd door mat with middle finger making you feel unwelcomed but it doesn’t discourage you as you hear footsteps. There’s Yoongi standing with his hair disheveled, the silver color making him look even more interesting. He’s still wearing his pajamas, at least you suppose as white T-shirt and dark blue pajamas shorts are covering his body.

“What?” he asks grumpily as he sees your face.

You don’t take it personally as you happily smile, ready for your revenge. “Good morning, neighbor.” you greet him pushing him out of way already walking inside.

“Hey!” he yells after you quickly closing his front door before trailing after you. It doesn’t take a long to find a kitchen, amazing and delicious smell leads you. His kitchen is similar to yours, but still bigger and fancier. There’s a plate of pancakes with strawberries, banana and Nutella on the side. Your mouth is already watering as you’re ready to take a pancake. But Yoongi slaps your hand before it can touch delicious pancake.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks lowly as you look at the pancake. So close.

“I want to eat, obviously.” You answer casually like it’s a obvious thing.

“Nobody invited you.” he informs you as he crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps buldge out. He isn’t that broad but he still has some muscles on his body and it is proved now.

“I didn’t invite you yesterday either so...” you trail off, wanting to get this argument over with and already eat. Delicious smell is enough to make your stomach grumble.

“I see what you’re doing, Y/N.” he says and the fact that he uses your real name instead that awful nickname he gave you, means he’s too serious.

“What am I doing?” you ask acting clueless.

“You’re trying to get back at me because of yesterday. And I didn’t exactly come uninvited, your mom invited me.” he says as he takes the plate with pancakes away from you.

“But my mom has no right to invite some stranger to my home!” you exclaim as he suddenly smirks at you.

“Oh, are we strangers? I thought we’re already pass that stage, kitty,” he visibly smiles in triumph when he sees your red face. “I think you should leave then, stranger.” he says standing there with plate full of delicious looking pancakes as your stomach grumbles once again.

“Come on! I’m hungry.” you pout reaching for pancakes but he only dodges from your hands.

“Not my business.” he mutters as he tries not to look at your little pout.

“Come on, let’s eat. You’re skinny, you’ve to eat.” you say brightly as he looks at you before scoffing.

“I am skinny? What about you?” he chuckles at you while shaking his head. You look down at your stomach which has some fat in it but it’s covered by your large T-shirt.

“I’m definitely not skinny. I should start working out and eat healthy, but I’m too lazy for that. But it’s okay, I’m comfortable with my body.” you shrug as he just stares at you. Does she really think she needs to work out? He asks himself as he stares at your curves which are placed in the right places. He feels like your large T-shirt is covering your true body and he somehow whishes he would see it better.

“Can we eat now?” you ask as your stomach growls loudly causing you to pat it. He doesn’t say anything as he simply turns around sitting at his dining table. That’s your cue to do the same as you eat in silence. You moan at your first bite, as the flavor of strawberries and Nutella reaches your tongue. Yoongi ignores you the whole time, eating in silent as he doesn’t glance at you — not even once. Holly decides to make an appearance when she jumps into Yoongi’s lap as he starts to pet her. He smiles at the pet as he scrubs her behind her ear causing her to purr.

“What?” he asks annoyed as he feels your eyes on him. You just shrug.

“It’s just weird.” you mumble as he sighs.

“What’s weird?” he asks anyway.

“You being nice.” you answer casually shrugging your shoulders as he gapes feeling slightly offended.

“I’m nice!” he argues and you laugh.

“You’re definitely not!” you still laugh while arguing with him. He bites into his lips to prevent him to smile at the way you laugh at him with your chubby cheeks full of food.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he raises his brow and you calm down from your laughter.

“Hmm, I am.” you nod still grinning at him. You’re done with eating putting your plate in the sink as you’re ready to wash it.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he puts his empty plate onto yours.

“I’m cleaning after myself.” you answer as he sighs.

“I’ll wash it,” he mumbles as you gasp. “I told you I can be nice.”

Holly jumps onto his counter and you eye the animal as she stares at you. “I think she doesn’t like me.” you mumble as Yoongi continue to wash dishes.

“Who? Holly? Nah, she’s a sweetheart.” he argues.

“Come on, go down. This is very unhygienic,” you tell the cat as you’re patting her butt to jump off. But instead she growls at you making you step back. “See? She doesn’t like me!” you exclaim looking at the devil cat who stares at you.

“Because you’re telling her what to do.” he tells you easily as you furrow your brows at her.

“Anyways, thank you for breakfast, I guess.” you say as you’re turning around.

“Are you leaving?” he asks almost too quickly and you turn back around to look at him with smirk.

“Aw, do you want me to stay?” you coo as he glares at you.

“Of course not, get out and don’t come back.” he says almost too rudely and you purse your lips.

“Asshole.” you say as you send him a middle finger before leaving. Fucking asshole.

To say things got better with Yoongi would be a complete lie. You feel like he started to ignore you even more, this time he wouldn’t even greet you — but you can’t say anything since you’ve never greet him as well. It was just a couple of days ago, when you heard the same banging of his headboard into the thin wall. You somehow felt even more angry than ever. Maybe it was a small amount of jealousy you felt about the woman he fucked. Yoongi sexually attracts you and there’s nothing you can do about it. Maybe his cold attitude should repel you, but it doesn’t. Instead you somehow want his attention. His smirk engraved in your mind as you’re wondering how would it feel to let him fuck you. The sounds you always here is enough to tell you he isn’t about that vanilla sex. He’s like a beast, but you never hear him. You only hear women’s moans and seeing a different woman every time is enough to tell you, that he isn’t in any relationship. Even that should repel you. You’ve always loved men who are caring, loving and are couple type. But then there’s a Yoongi — complete opposite who attracts you so much that you’ve thought about him when you had your fingers burried inside of you. You pretended it’s him inside of you, knowing he’s way bigger than your three slim fingers. But even your fingers inside of you and shower head on your clit weren’t enough for you to please you — something that never happened.

Couple of days passed without hearing any woman’s moans or banging on your wall. However his loud music is completely another story. You knock on his wall with your fist for like tenth time but he ignores you. So you decide to knock on his front door but he still ignores you. You give up feeling how much tired you’re but you can’t sleep because of the loudness he’s causing. That’s when you get angry at him and dial police number. Maybe it’s too immature but you don’t care. You need to sleep and you’re done with his rude attitude. He even started to ignore you completely and that somehow pisses you off even more than his constant disturbing. Soon enough you hear police men coming to Yoongi’s door knocking. He opens the door after a while and you wish you could see his face. But instead you only stand behind the door listening to their conversation silently. “We’re sorry to disturb you, sir but there’s been a complaint about a noise.” One of the police men says.

“Really?” Yoongi asks but his voice somehow amused already knowing who complained. You bite into your lips knowing he knows exactly who called police.

“We have to ask you to keep it down, there are neighbors who wants to sleep at this hour.” they say politely as Yoongi answers with ‘sure’ before they leave. He turns the music completely off and you smile in victory.

You’re happily walking to your bedroom when there is angry knocking on your front door. You already know who is behind it. You sigh as you open your door with annoyed expression.

“Did you just fucking called a police on me?” he barks at you too loudly causing your face scrunch at his loud voice.

“I told you I would if you don’t keep it down.” you answer him as he fumes like some angry bull. Shit, he’s angry. You see him clenching his jaw as he barges inside your home.

“Hey!” you yell at him as you close your door with big thump. “You can’t just—“ You’re cut off when he barges onto you, your back hitting your front door as he kisses you harshly. He holds you face in place as he hungrily kisses your mouth, your teeth clutching against his but you don’t care. He tugs his arms under your thighs, easily pulling you up. You naturally wrap your legs around his waist as you hold onto his shoulders. He continues kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. You’re already feeling your underwear sticking to your heat, getting too much turned on by just simple act. He pulls away to catch his breath but he’s already sucking your neck. “What—“ He shuts you up with his lips once again.

“Shut the fuck up.” he says between the kisses. In other cases you’d tell him to fuck off or something but you feel yourself clench around nothing instead. It’s almost too embarrassing to admit how much does this turn you on. He grinds his crotch against yours — your crotch meeting the material of his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” you moan out as you feel his hardened cock against your thin material of your panties.

“Do you want more?” he asks breathlessly as he keeps grinding into you. As much as it feels good, it’s not enough to quench your thirst.

“Yes!” you moan as he sucks on your collarbones. Thank god you’re wearing your thin nightdress and not your pajamas with unicorn on it.

“Mm, I don’t think you deserve it.” he hums against your skin as he pulls the material of your nightdress, revealing your breast. He dips his head down licking your already hardened nipple.

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” you ask breathlessly.

“You’re smart.” he chuckles as he grazes your nipple with his teeth. You bang your head against your front door causing it to hurt but you don’t care. “I won’t beg, Yoongi.” you chuckle at the thought of you begging. Who does he think he is? He grins into you harshly causing you to whimper.

“Beg, or I’m leaving.” he says too sternly and serious and you know he’s not fucking around.

“I hate you.” you spit as he smirks at you.

“Likewise.” he mumbles but kisses you.

“What do you want, kitty?” he asks as he sucks on your collarbones.

“Seriously? This is the biggest turn off.” you mumble as he laughs, an actual laugh and you’re happy you’re looking at him right at that moment. A gummy smile appears on his smile and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so beautiful and mesmerizing.

“But you’re wet, aren’t you?” he asks with raised brow and you shut up.

“Please, just...” you try to speak as he grins gripping your naked ass harshly as your nightdress ride up when he picked you up. You feel his big hands on your ass as he grabs it harshly, causing you to bite your lip. You can’t wait longer. You’ve never wanted someone that bad. “Please, just fuck me,” you beg as he smirks. “I need you.” you continue not even realizing how pathetic you sound.

“You’re so needy.” je says almost mockingly detaching you from the front door, still holding you in his hands. His arms holds you securely as he kisses you roughly again. He already walks into your bedroom, putting you down as you stare at him.

“How did you know where my bedroom is?” you ask him as he strips down his T-shirt and that’s the first time you see him topless. And boy, is that a good sight. His skin is pale as it shines and looks so smoothly. His whole body looks healthy as deep v-line is disappearing into his sweatpants. You clench just from the sight of him.

“We share the same wall, you forgot?” he asks as he hovers over you.

“How could I forgot? I heard you having a sex countless time.” you mutter, the pang of jealously hitting your stomach and chest. Yoongi shuts you up with his lips.

“I’m about to fuck you, aren’t I?” he says with little smile making it sound like he’s assuring you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks softly as his fingers glaze around the hem of your nightdress.

“Yes.” you answer maybe too quickly which he smirks to but doesn’t say anything.

You sit up as he’s already taking it off revealing your naked breasts. You see him lick his lips coating it with his saliva already pushing you to lay down. He’s taking your other nipple into his hands while he grabs the other one with his hand. You’re squirming in his hold as you’re enjoying the feel of his mouth and hands on you. He slowly trails down to your stomach pecking it little before he scoots down — his head between your legs. He parts them so he can fit more comfortably as he takes a inhale of your heat. You blush at him as he smirks up at you. You’re still wearing your panties and he kisses your clit through your fabric. He’s teasing you and you know it.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he asks as he looks at you with those sharp eyes. The same one who constantly glares at you giving you a nasty look, but this time they’re filled with lust causing them to appear more dark and shiny than usual.

“I... You can.” you say unsurely as he furrows his brows slightly.

“Has anyone ever eaten you out?” His question causing you to bite the inside of your cheek. He asks it casually and straightforward taking you off guard for a moment.

“No.” you answer as you see his eyes widen.

“How’s that possible?” he asks confusingly as you awkwardly cough.

“I don’t know... they never did.” you answer awkwardly thinking about your two and only exes. They were all about vanilla sex, something you like but you still missed some action. Some dominance, someone who would put you in your place and seeing Yoongi — he’s the perfect one for doing exactly that.

“They’re missing out,” he mumbles as he’s pulling your underwear down, sliding it against your smooth legs. Thank god you shaved yourself this morning. He puffs some air onto your revealed heat as he watches you squirm. “So pink and beautiful.” you blush at his shameless words but still clench at his dirty words.

He sees it but doesn’t comment on it as he dips his head kissing your clit. Your fingers naturally grab his silver hair grinding onto his face. He starts sucking on your clit fingers grazing over your hole. He’s only teasing you with his fingers and you’re ready to scold him. Luckily, he trails his lips down to your hole thrusting with his tongue slowly and you moan out loud. You get why those women are so vocal. He’s unbelievable. Meanwhile his fingers move to your clit pinching it as you arch your back thrusting into his face. He doesn’t say anything nor he can, when his whole face is stuffed between your legs. He doesn’t stop, only picking his pace causing you to whimper. You bite your lips trying not to scream at how good he fucks you. Your pussy tightens around his tongue as you feel yourself cumming. You grip his hair harder causing him to moan into your pussy while he helps you to ride out of your orgasm. As you feel your cum dripping down your hole you try to control your breath. But Yoongi isn’t done when he’s licking your cum of you and you whimper at the overstimulation.

“Yoongi..” you beg causing him to pull away with winning smirk. His whole chin and lips are glistening by your cum and the sight is unbelievably pleasing and arousing. Even though you just came, you still feel yourself begging for more. Yoongi sits on his knees as he grabs your nightdress wiping his chin with it. You notice the outline of his cock in his sweatpants and you’re already sitting up.

“Lay down,” you say feeling yourself still wet from your cum and new arousal. You gently push him to lay down and he peacefully obeys. “Can I take these off?” you ask, your fingers already hooked around the hem of his sweatpants and boxer briefs.

“Why didn’t you already?” Is all he says and that’s his approval as you’re already taking it off. His cock springs free and your mouth water at the sight of him. It stands straight from the arousal in desperate need for attention. There is a pre-cum glistening at his tip and you’re licking your lips at delightful sight. He’s thick causing you to feel somehow stressed if he’ll fit in.

“You don’t have to—“ he says after a moment of seeing you looking at his cock. He knows he’s been gifted in this particular area so he doesn’t feel self conscious about it, but he’s starting to think you regret it. He’s been asshole to you this whole time, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured or something. You cut him off by gripping him in your hand giving him a teasing squeeze. He groans shutting off his mouth not wanting to be vocal. We’ll see about that. You think as you dip your head spitting on his tip before taking him into his mouth. You suck on him, the rest of his cock which isn’t in your mouth is held by your hand. But soon enough you grip his thighs with both of your hands as you try to take as much of him as possible. Your eyes are starting to water as you feel him getting deeper so you swallow. He moans quietly gripping your hair tightly in his fist as you’re lowering yourself on him. Your nose is touching his small pubic hair causing you to not believe you’ve taken all of him. He unexpectedly thrusts into your mouth as you don’t move causing you to gag and pull away. Your saliva is connected to his cock as you cough.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he says and that’s your cue taking him into your mouth again. This time you don’t pull away as you feel him hitting your throat. You tighten your throat around him by swallowing and he groans tightening his grip on your hair as you whimper. You squeeze your legs together trying to relieve at least some kind of tension between your legs. “Fucking hell, stop.” He growls as you look at him through your lashes, his cock still in your mouth. “Fuck, fuck!” he groans quickly slightly pushing you away from him as you sit down looking at him confusingly.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask cluelessly as you’re trying to think about some mistakes. You gave couple of blowjobs to your exes and they never complained.

“I nearly came.” he breathes out as he tries to control his breathing. You open your mouth as he looks at you through his hooded eyes.

“Y-you did?” you ask, surprised by his statement. Were you that good? You’ve never gave a blowjob to someone with big cock like his and it makes you proud somehow — in weird way. But his words makes you happy and proud nevertheless.

“I wanted that bratty mouth of yours wrapped around me ever since you knocked on my fucking door.” he admits shamelessly as you widen your eyes. Even though you stood there in those ridiculous slippers and fluffy robe, your angry eyes with fire in them was all he could think about. But his words are causing you to clench yourself around nothing and you whimper at that feeling.

“Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me.” you tell him as he growls at you, switching your position. You’re looking straight into his eyes as he hooks his arms around your waist, roughly and in one swift move he turns you onto your stomach. Your face hits your soft pillows as you look sideways so you can breath.

“On your hands and knees. Ass up,” he commands you with dominant voice and you listen to him already arching your ass at him. He pulls your ass cheeks apart seeing your tight hole as he leans down and flicks his tongue around it. You moan not even caring that he’s having his tongue on your literal ass hole. “You’re dripping.” he comments as he drawls his finger across your heat, collecting some of your mixed cum and arousal. You look over your shoulder seeing him putting his finger into his mouth sucking on it.

“You’re nasty.” you comment loudly as he grins.

“And you love it.” He quirks his brow and you bite your lip.

“I do.” you admit shamelessly.

You turn your head laying it on your pillow as you wiggle your ass in anticipation. You hear Yoongi chuckle before he delivers a slap on your ass. You gasp at the painfully pleasing feeling as you feel him caressing it right after. He takes his cock into his hands slowly guiding it to your hole. He teases you with running his tip along your slit. “Yoongi,” you whine as he finds it amusing to see you so whiny. He slowly guides his tip in as you widen your eyes. “Stop!” you yell causing him to stop. You turn around seeing him holding his cock and god, the sight is even more pleasing. “Condom?” you ask as he annoyingly looks at you.

“I’m clean,” he says and you quirk your eyebrows at him. “I always fuck with condoms.” he informs you as the look of disbelief crosses your face.

“What about those women?” you ask even though you don’t want to even think about them. You don’t want to ruin this moment.

“I didn’t fuck them raw.”

“Why?” you ask curiously and he wants to roll his eyes at your curiosity as his cock is starting to hurt. He just wants to fuck your brains out.

“I don’t know, I never wanted to.” he shrugs as he waits for you to tell him to continue.

But it just has to be you to annoy him some more. “Why do you want to fuck with me raw?” you ask and he groans.

“I just do, okay? I want to feel all of you and I don’t want that fucking condom between us. But if you’re not on pills I can—“

“No, I’m on birth control.” you cut him off as he feels relief. “And I’m clean.” you add as he looks in your eyes for question.

“Let me fuck you raw.” he says instead as you bite your lip.

“Yeah, okay.” you add as he already guides his cock to your hole. He slowly enters you as he penetrates you. The burning sensation causing you to shut your eyes as you’re trying to relax.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck.” he growls as he slowly keeps entering you. He fills you to your brim as you gasp at the feeling of fullness. You’re so full. He penetrates your walls amazingly as you clench around him. He squeezes your ass letting you some time to adjust before you start to wiggle your ass at him. He chuckles slapping it before thrusting in and out. He doesn’t start slow, already thrusting in and out in animalistic pace. You grip your sheets tightly as his hands grips your waist to hold you in place.

“Fuck, Yoongi.” you moan out as he finds your g-spot hitting in repeatedly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. How long has it been since you’ve fucked with someone?” he asks through his gritted teeth but something is telling you he doesn’t really want to know the answer. So you shut your mouth as he keeps thrusting while growls are leaving his mouth. You’ve never heard him being vocal while having sex but fuck, the sounds are causing you to clench uncontrollably as you’re cumming around him.

“Fuck, are you already cumming?” he mocks you as he slows down letting you ride off your orgasm. He pulls out as he slaps his cock against your slit as you moan. He’s entering once again and you gasp, too sensitive.

“Yoongi, I can’t...” you whimper as he starts hitting all the right places once again.

“You can and you will. You will take everything, you bitch. That’s what you get for calling police on me.” he snaps at you as his thighs are hitting your ass while his balls are hitting your clit. You feel the amazing arousal already, too close to cum again. His words should’ve made you angry that he’s talking to you with disrespect, although, it turns you on as he slaps you once again. He pats your ass in caring manner before gripping your waist once again. You thrust your ass against him meeting him in the middle causing him to moan. His moves are getting sloppy and you know he’s getting close as he starts to loose his rhythm.

“Come on Yoongi. Cum.” you purr breathlessly loosing your control, cumming for the second time.

“Ow, holy shit, fuck, can I— I’m cumming!” he growls loud as he’s spilling his load into you, coating your walls with his cum. You moan at the feeling of being full. He fucks into you his cum before pulls out slapping you ass with his cock. You lay down, your knees too weak to hold anymore. You turn onto your back seeing Yoongi sitting on his knees. His eyes follows the way his cum is spilling out of you and he licks his lips at the sight. Amazing.

“You’re so fucked out.” he chuckles as he looks at you while you’re grinning at him like some lunatic. You see some movement in the corner causing you to sit up in shock.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim as you see his cat staring at the both of you.

“I must’ve left my balcony door opened.” Yoongi mutters as he sees his cat jumping onto your bed.

“Put her down!” you say as the cat growls at you. Is she jealous?

“Come on, go down.” he says as he pats her butt as she jumps off your bed.

“You should really close your balcony door.” you mutter as Yoongi lays down beside you pulling you onto him. It surprises you but you gladly accept it putting your head on his chest. You watch his pale hands laid in his stomach, veins visible on his arms and you bite your lips.

“Mmm, I’ll consider it after this.” he hums as you jokingly slap his chest.

“I’m serious.” you laugh as he chuckles.

“So am I, kitty.” And this time you slap him harder on his chest.

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