#I will be spending June in meetings and making art and writing fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itisannak · 4 years

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Rose-Colored Glasses (A Harry Styles Sugar Daddy Fic) / Part 3: New York, Amalfi Coast & Rome

Summary: (Y/N) is a 21-year-old student at the New York Institute of Fine Arts. When money becomes tight, she signs up to Seeking Arrangement, where she meets Harry Styles, a 30-year-old executive, who just wants a normal friend. Or, maybe more… (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Oral) (For @finelinesupremacy Writer’s Appreciation Writing Challenge) (Words: 8.9k) (Part 1: New York City, Part 2: New York City & Aspen, Part 4: Epilogue) (Rose Colored Glasses Vol. 2, Part 1: New York, Part 2: New York, Upper East Side , Part 3: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City , Part 4: Upper East Side, New York City & Low Manhattan, New York City , Part 5: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City, Winter Wonderland, Part 6: New York, Zurich, London / Epilogue; Hawaii)

“I love being at your house…” “You do?” “Yeah… It is the most normal part of my day.” He smiles, sitting on the floor before the coffee table. “You should definitely come more often, then. I am sorry we are eating on the coffee table…” I take a sit close to him, opening the containers of Chinese food. “It is fine. I like it like that.” He smiles at me, picking up the bottle of wine to serve some in our glasses. “How was your day?” I ask him, serving him some dumplings. “It was weird. I kept thinking of how much I wanted to go away.” “Go away where?” I ask him, looking at him with knitted eyebrows. “I don’t know. Away. I want to leave town.” “Forever?” “No, that would be impossible. For a couple of days, on a little retreat. I didn’t enjoy the trip to Aspen. And God knows when was the last time I took a vacation.” He replies. “Maybe you should… You need a few days off. And of course, you didn’t enjoy Aspen. You were preoccupied with the deal from the moment we arrived. And on your day off, we stayed in the hotel room. All that rain ruined our plans.” I reply. “I had fun on my day off. I know it didn’t go as planned, but it was fine. Especially when you got tipsy and had me type your dissertation.” “The keys were jumping before my eyes.” I giggle. “I noticed. The typos on that last paragraph…” “Well, wine and typing don’t go well together for me.” “It was so funny, having you slur out sentences for me, giggling in between.” “I have told you I am not holding my liquor well.” I laugh, digging into my fried rice. “You are adorable when tipsy. A giggling mess.” He pinches my cheek softly as I take my first bite. “Where do you think of going on vacation?” I ask him, making him shrug. “I don’t know. I always wanted to travel to Italy, go around a bit, then maybe rent a yacht to explore the little islands.” “That sounds dreamy. They have amazing food, great architecture, museums that take whole days to explore. And the islands are beautiful…” I sigh, dreaming of the place with my eyes open. “Have you been?” He asks me. “No, but it is my dream vacation. I have searched so many traveling guides…” I reply. “When do you think you will be available?” He asks me, making me look at him confused. “Available for what?” “For the trip to Italy. When should I book it?” He asks me. “You can’t be serious… Harry, that is insane…” “Why? It will be pretty boring going alone.” He replies. “I don’t know what to say.” “Just tell me when you will be available.” “From the 3rd week of May and onwards…” I reply. “Let’s say June then. I was thinking for a month-long vacation…” “A month-long? Will the company last that long without you?” I ask him and he shrugs. “They will be fine without me. My assistant and all the directors will be there.” He replies. “Can I ask for something? I mean, I know that even you taking me with you on this trip is a huge favor, but can I ask for one more?” “Of course, anything.” “Can we leave the second week of June? Spend mid-June to mid-July in Italy. The Mediterranean is magical at that time of the year.” I ask and he nods. “That’s all? That’s the easiest favor I have ever been asked.” He replies, taking a sip from his wine.

Per our agreement, Chrissy calls my phone at 10. Harry and I have long finished our meal and have been chatting away over our wine. Deliberately, I left my phone in my bedroom, so I could have an excuse to head there and take off my clothes. I slip the matching robe we bought on, tying it loosely so the lace of my lingerie can be seen without me layering off the satin cover. I take a deep breath, still unsure of what I am about to do. But fuck, have I been dreaming of this moment for the past week… I fix my posture and walk out of the bedroom, trying to mask the fact I am trembling down to my core. “It has gotten a bit late, hasn’t it? Should I get going?” Harry asks me, mindlessly looking at his phone. “You can stay… You should stay.” I reply, earning his attention. He looks at me surprised, scanning my body. “Please stay…” I plead, untying the belt of my robe. “What are you doing, love?” He asks me. I let the robe pool at my feet, moving ahead but still keeping a distance from him. “I have been thinking about you… And I know you have to. So, if you want, we can upgrade this friendship…” I try to sound as seductive as I can, looking at Harry in the eye. He shifts from his spot a little, before standing up and walking towards me. “Are you sure you want that?” He asks me, eyeing me up and down, taking in my appearance. “More than anything. I have been thinking about you for so long…” I reply. He nods his head, pulling my close to his body by my waist.

He rests his hand on my cheek, pulling me in for a kiss. My eyes roll to the back of my head, feeling his lips merge with mine, my body filling with tingles. He kisses me softly and slowly, taking a small taste before he traces my bottom lip with his tongue. I part my lips for him, letting him kiss me deeply as his hand moves to the back of my head. My hands move to his hips, holding onto them to keep him close to me. I don’t want this to end, I don’t think I will ever get enough of the taste of his lips. So I groan when he moves his lips from my lips, trailing them down the side of my mouth, to my chin then jaw and neck. “I am going to take you to your bedroom now…” He whispers, kissing around my neck to find my sweet spot. “Please…” I whimper, feeling him softly push me towards it.

I am shoved on top of the bed, with Harry’s hand gripping on my jaw tightly. He looks at me with glazed eyes, licking his lips as he looks down my body. “Lace looks good on you…” He comments, tracing his finger over the lace trim on the decolletage. “I bought it just for you.” I reply and he chuckles. “I like the sound of that…” He hums, lowering the strap of the lingerie. I like the way he is touching me, barely grazing my skin. It is like he is teasing me, as if he enjoys the way my skin erupts in goosebumps. He lowers his face to my neck, sucking on my skin softly and grazing his teeth over every mark he leaves there. I gasp when his fingers move the cup of my lingerie away and his mouth latches on my nipple. I feel heat shoot right through me, my stomach tied in a knot as he sucks harshly. His hand moves down my body, finding its way to my sex. With his fore and middle finger, he rubs my still clothed sex, making me shriek and cover my face with my hands. His lips leave a wet trail from one breast to the other, his tongue darting past his lips and circling around my nub. His lips and his hand working me on make me feel like floating. “You like it when I do that?” He asks me with a smirk, lowering even more on my body. He plants a kiss over my navel, the lace that dips into my skin more while he presses his lips there making me ticklish. He spreads my thighs more, lowering his face to my clothed sex. I feel his breath on my pussy, which only accentuates how wet I am. He pushes the bottom of the lingerie aside, revealing my core to him. “You have such a pretty pussy, baby.” He praises, running his fingers down my slit, soon joining them with his mouth. “Fuck…” I buck my hips up instinctively, pushing my sex more on his face as his tongue moves masterly on it. He flicks over my clit time after time, gathering some of my wetness from my entrance. It only makes him hungrier, turning him rougher and bolder, plunging his tongue deep inside me.

My clit gets the attention it -oh so desperately- craves from his thumb, which strokes it fast as his tongue moves inside me. Without realizing it, my thighs are shutting around his head, which causes him to cease all activities. “No, no, don’t stop…” I plead, my chest rising and falling as my breath gets hard to leave my lungs. “You shouldn’t have tried to shut your thighs if you didn’t want me to stop…” He teases, crawling up towards me. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. You were just so good.” I whine, making him coo at me, only for me to realize a second later that he is doing it sarcastically. He tears the bodysuit off of my body, grabbing it by the neckline and tearing the lace apart, and exposing my body to him. His eyes are a shade darker, pupils blown out as he looks at me hungrily. “You are going to have to fucking control yourself if you want me to make you feel good.” He spits out, face tensing as he grips on my throat. I gasp, surprised by how good it feels to have his hand there. I throw my head back and close my eyes, thrashing as I try to invite him to touch me. He leans closer to me, teeth biting onto my earlobe and pulling softly. “Oh, you are so pretty like that… Naked underneath me… Better than I dreamt you would look.” He rasps, letting go of my throat. I gasp, hands moving to touch the skin he touched, wincing a little as his fingerpads have left bruises on my skin. I haven’t realized how tightly he was choking me until now; I guess in my haze I wasn’t aware.

I watch as he strips off his clothes; first his shirt, then his leather belt, which coils and throws above my head. Then his pants and boxers, freeing his boner which springs against his stomach. “You are going to keep your legs open for me…” He demands, wrapping his hands around my knees. “Yes, sir…” Compliance with his needs comes out of me naturally. “Do you have condoms?” He asks me. I sit up, sliding to the side of my bed and opening the drawer, finding the box of condoms right where I put them this afternoon. I pick one out, tearing the foil apart as kneel on my mattress, mirroring Harry’s posture. I reach down his body, taking his cock in my hand and stroking it as my lips contact his neck. I trail down, soon mapping from his clavicle down his happy trail, while my hand works slowly on his cock. I prop the rubber right before lining it down his cock, looking up at him to find him with his head thrown back.

I sit upright, bringing my lips to his. My hand travels to the back of his head, finding the hair that rests there and toying with it. He places his hand on the small of my back, softly pushing me until my back collides with the mattress. “You are such a good girl, baby… I will have to reward you for that…” He coos at me, spreading my legs back to his liking. He runs his cock up and down my slit, pressing on my clit with his tip. I am a dripping mess, in agony of his next move. When he thrusts in me, I feel myself tensing. I whimper and squeeze my fists, gathering my bedsheets in my hands. “Oh fuck.” He groans, bringing his hand down my hips. He grips onto them, holding me pinned to the mattress. He moves slowly, thrusting inch by inch inside me until he bottoms out. “Fuck me harder, please… Fuck, Harry… Fuck me harder.” I beg, digging my nails into his arms. He grabs me by the chin, forcing me to look at him as he slams his hips down on mine. “I am going to make you regret that request…” He growls, using his full weight on his thrusts. He lets go of my chin, reaching for my hands that are still on his shoulders and pinning my wrists above my head. “I am going to fucking wreck you… That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He rasps, pounding into me. He doesn’t go fast, but he reaches deep inside me with a force that makes his tip press on my soft spot. “I want you. All of you.” I whimper, enjoying the way my body responds to him. I am covered in goosebumps, my stomach pulsing inside me, more and more with every time he slams into me. “Fuck… Princess… You are so tight around my cock. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He groans, tightening his grip on my wrists and lowering his face to my neck. He bites into it, making me whimper in pain softly. “I was. Harry… I wanna touch you…” I plead, earning a scoff from him. “Then you’d better not dig your claws into my skin next time.” He muses. There is no love in the way he is fucking me, just him thrusting inside me with force, hitting my spot, and making me whine in pain and please. “Oh, God… Oh God, Harry…” I cry out, squeezing hard around him. I am getting closer and closer now, my body moving against his. Well, the best it can since his body is pressing mine against the mattress. “I am going to cum… I am going to cum… Oh, Jesus…” I groan, my face morphing into a frown as I chase my high. “I love how you use His name in vain while I am fucking your tight little pussy… It sounds so dirty coming from such an angelic face like yours.” He groans, burying his face in the nook of my neck. His teeth are grazing my skin, leaving marks on my flesh as he pushes his cock deep inside me. His breathing is rapid and inconsistent, sounding euphoric as he fucks me towards our orgasms. Not being able to touch him or myself right now only magnifies how good this whole thing is. “Harry…” I whine, feeling my stomach tighten and pulse one last time before I come undone around him. “Fuck… You should look at your face right now.” Harry utters, letting go of my wrists and grabbing onto my chin, moving it a bit to get a better look at my face.

He pulls out of me, discards the condom on the floor before kneeling by my head. He presses his thumb on my bottom lip, silently asking me to open my mouth for him, which I gladly do, making him bring his tip to my lips. He strokes his cock over my lips until he cums, throwing his head back. He looks disheveled, face tensed, and fazed out for just a moment.

I don’t think I even blinked from the moment he laid next to me to the moment he started dressing up. “Aren’t you staying?” I ask, pulling the sheets to my body. “I can’t. I have to go to the office early and I don’t have a change of clothes.” He replies. “You can’t just stay for a little longer. I… Harry, if you didn’t like it this time…” I begin but he leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. “It was nice… But if you want us to have sex again, you need to get on birth control…” He whispers. “I am already on birth control…” I reply and he sighs. “You should have told me earlier…” He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead. “I am sorry. When will I see you again?” I ask and he shrugs. “I am going to let you know when I am free. Ok, baby?” He asks me and I nod my head. “I wish you could stay. This doesn’t feel right…” I pout. “I promise I will stay next time…He replies, kissing my forehead softly as he goes back to getting dressed. I lay in bed, still naked and staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why he acted like that. I really liked having sex with him, I liked how he touched me and how he felt on me and in me. But he seemed a bit off like he wasn’t really feeling it.

Fuck… He really hated it, didn’t he?

I open my eyes, groaning as I feel a chill run down my spine. I realize that last night I didn’t even bother putting my clothes back on, I just dozed off. I groan as I sit up, scratching my head as I bring my knees to my chest. I grab my phone from the nightstand, scrolling mindlessly through my socials. I really hoped I had a message from Harry, anything really. But there has been radio silence from his side and I don’t really know what to think of it. I get up from my bed, picking up my towel to hop in the shower before I officially start my day.

I let the water get warmer before I get in the shower, taking deep breaths of the steam that comes out. I feel the water cleans my skin, washing away last night’s events. I don’t regret having sex with Harry, but I do feel bad about how the night ended. I wish I had fought more for him to spend the night, I wish I somehow made him stay with me. I turn off the faucet and wrap myself in my fluffy, warm towel, thinking of what I should have for breakfast this morning.

I start my coffee maker and pop some bread in the toaster while I slip in my comfortable homewear. Before my coffee could fully brew, my doorbell rings, making me jolt and sprint towards my door. “Good morning. Ms. (Y/L/N)?” The delivery guy asks me, and I nod. “That’s she.” “I have a delivery for you. Can you please sign here?” He asks me, handing me a form and a pen. I sign by my name as he hands me an envelope and a bouquet. “Have a nice day, ma’am…” The man greets me off with a smile, walking towards the elevator as I shut my door.

I let the bouquet on my countertop, tearing the top of the envelope with the side of my nail. There is a note inside, along with a wad of money. The note reads ‘Hope you don’t mind your weekly allowance is in cash this week. Harry x-’ I take out the cash, counting the money as the thickness of the wad seems a bit odd. The total comes to 3,500$, way over the weekly allowance we had agreed on. There is a sting in my heart; did he really just paid me for sex?

I grab my phone and dial his number while I prep my mug for my coffee. “Hi, love. I assume you got the flowers already?” He cheers as he picks up. “I did. Along with the cash… There is an extra 1,000$ in the envelope. What is that for?” I ask; I don’t have time to play around, nor the patience to do so. “Well… It is a little gift for you… To treat yourself after last night’s events.” “Harry, this isn’t right. You are basically paying me for having sex with you.” I exasperate, feeling my face become hot. “No, no… This isn’t it. We had agreed we wouldn’t evolve sex in our ordeal. And last night we did. It seems only fair to upgrade the transaction part of our deal. I want to take care of you, make sure you don’t have to worry about anything else but our relationship. Plus, you need to start shopping for our getaway… I am sure the extra money will come in handy for a little bikini, or a pair of lingerie just for me…” He whispers the last part, which makes me bite my bottom lip. What he is saying, makes lots of sense in my head. “Ok then…” I reply and he chuckles. “Why don’t you get ready? I will send Vinny to pick you up and bring you to my office. We can have a light lunch together. I want to take you somewhere I am sure you will like.” He suggests. “What time should I be ready?” I ask. “Let’s say in an hour. I will tell Vin to wait in front of your building. Ok?” “Ok. See you then…” I hear myself purring; I was making fun of girls who do that and now how the tables have turned.

I wear a red floral dress that I have just bought last Monday; the weather is wonderful today, so the skin that is revealed from the short, thin fabric doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable or cold. “Good afternoon, Ms. (Y/N)… How are you?” Vinny asks me as he opens the door for me. I smile at him walking faster towards the car. “It has been very calm this far. How is your day going, Vinny?” I ask him back. He closes the door for me after I sit comfortably on the backseat, and walks to the driver’s seat. “It has been great this far, Ms. (Y/L/N). Thank you for asking.” He starts the car, pulling out of his parking spot. “Mr. Styles ordered me to take you to his office. He has a bit of work to do, so I will pass you through security and you will head to his office.” Vinny states and I nod my head. “Alright then…” I mumble, picking my phone out of my little purse.

The drive is fairly short; Harry’s office is apparently in one of those big buildings on the main street. Vinny was able to pass me through every security point until we reached one of the top floors. I knock on the door that has Harry’s name scribbled on a golden plaque, and wait until I hear the ‘Come in’. I walk in, smiling at Harry who is sitting behind his desk. “You are here already?” He asks with a cheer as his eyes land on me. “Turns out my house is pretty close to your office.” I reply. “Hm, I never realized. Come here…” He calls me over, patting the top of his thigh. “Vinny told me you have work to do. I don’t mind going to a coffee shop nearby and wait there.” I state and he shakes his head. “I have been thinking about you all day… I need you here.” He pulls me by my wrist softly, making me land on his lap. “You have?” “Yes… Last night was playing in my head over and over again. I wanted to call you in bright and early but I knew you would be the only thing I would have my attention on.” He replies, prying my head closer to his by placing his fore and middle finger on my jaw and pushing it towards him. “You wore a dress?” He points out, bringing his free hand to the hemline of my floral dress. “You like it? I bought it last week and it felt like the perfect match for this weather.” “It is amazing on you. I love the neckline.” He whispers, bringing his lips to my neck. “I love how exposed it leaves you to me… I can see your breasts, your legs, and with the blow of wind, I will be able to see everything…” He murmurs, bringing his hand under the hem of my dress. “You have work to do.” I moan, enjoying his lips on my sweetspot. His hand travels further up my thigh, stroking his thumb over my hip. “I can do it later. It is enough as it is that I am in my office on Saturday.” He replies. “Why are we still here, then?” I ask him, tilting my head back to give him access to my neck. “I thought we could sneak some time here before heading to lunch.” He chuckles. “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” He instructs, lowering his hand to my pelvis. I spread my legs the best I can without tripping off the chair.

His hand finds its way to my sex, fingers slipping in my panties and heading straight to my clit. His face lowers to my chest, first kissing and marking his way down to my thoracic valley, then moving the neckline of my dress to free more of my breasts. He lowers his lips until my nipple is in his mouth. And then he pushes two fingers inside me, curling them up to find my spot. His lips suck hungrily on my tit, roughening the bundle of nerves and making chills run down my spine. Instinctively, my hands lace behind his neck, fingers messing with his soft hair. “What if someone walks in?” I ask through moans. Harry pops my nipple out of his mouth, tracing a trail of kisses up my neck. “They know better than to walk in without knocking.” He replies. His fingers find my spot, making me jolt and squeal at the sensation. His thumb moves to my clit, stroking it fast as his fingers move in and out of me, curling on my spot repeatedly at a tandem pace. “Fuck. Fuck… Oh, don’t stop.” I beg, making Harry comply with me and keep the pace. He goes back to paying attention to my breasts, fondling and sucking hickeys on them. His fingers pinch my nipples, pulling them slightly and adding to the sensation being built in my stomach. “You are going to be heard, baby. And then we are definitely going to be walked in.” He chuckles, gluing his eyes on my face as he tries to pry an orgasm out of me. “I was having my morning meeting today and all I could think of was that I would give everything to have you bend over my desk, fucking your tight little pussy. I wish I had stayed last night… I wish I had woken up next to you this morning… Fuck, I wish I could turn back time.” He mumbles, lips still on my skin. “Had you stayed this morning, I would have woken you up by sucking your dick…” I groan, bucking my hips on his hand, pressing my core more on it. “Are you good with your mouth, princess?” He asks me, digging his teeth in my neck. “You will have to see that yourself and let me know…” I tease him, but my confidence is drained from within me as his fingers press perfectly on my spot. “Fuck, I am cumming.” I whine, moving my hips and pulsing around his fingers. It is like my whole body is going numb but at the same time, I can feel everything. I grip onto his shirt, nearly bunching it up in my fists. “Your face is so cute when you are cumming…” He comments, still stroking his thumb over my clit. “I can’t take more…” I complain, burying my face in his neck.

Harry and I walk towards the elevator, being eyed by the people who are in the office this evening. We enter the elevator, finding out we are alone for now. I head to the mirror in the back wall of the cabin, gasping in shock as I notice the marks on my skin. “Why didn’t you say I have hickeys?” I ask Harry as I quickly look for my powder in my purse. “I thought you would have figured it out. I was latching onto your neck while we were in my office…” He replies with a smirk on his face. He walks behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a kiss on the side of my neck. “I think they are hot. Maybe you shouldn’t cover them…” He comments. “We are going out for lunch, people will see them.” “We are not going yet. We have a stop before that.” He chuckles. “Still, people will see. Fuck, I don’t think just powder will do.” I sigh, pressing the sponge on the purplish mark repeatedly. “So, why even bother with that… Just let them breathe.” He suggests and I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, just let everyone know you have been marking me up.” I scoff, pressing the sponge a little harder on my skin. “Aren’t you mine to mark as?” He asks me. I feel my core become wetter at his words; oh, I love being called his.

Vin drops us off in front of a post-modern building. The tall, slender building looks like an iceberg cap, crafted of metal and glass, with the glass tiles reminding me of mirrors. “What are we doing here?” I ask as Harry links his arm with mine. “This is an Art Gallery. My friend Paul is the owner and we are here for a private show. I want a new painting for the office, and I need your eye for that.” He states, breezing through the door and past the security guard. “Thank you so much for that…” I lean my head on his shoulder, gripping onto his bicep. We are shown to a private room by an assistant, who stands by the entrance of it, with his back turned to us. The walls are covered in paintings, each bearing a white plaque on the bottom of it, with details of the medium, and the artist scribbled on it. “Do you have something in mind? Maybe a bit of inspiration, or a specific thing you want to add to your office…” I ask Harry as he observes the art carefully. “You have seen my office… It is pretty monotonous, mostly monochromatic. I was thinking about having a pop of color in there.” “You are thinking about vibrant colors… A statement piece, perhaps… Something that will draw attention.” I suggest and he tilts his head to the side. “You have an all-white and black office, with nice marble details. So maybe we should look for warm tones; orange, red, that sort of palette.” I continue, making him hum. “But if you want to think outside the box, a sapphire blue touch would just look gorgeous. Now, theme-wise, I would suggest realism, so it matches your personality and space.” I look at Harry for a response, finding him smirking at me. “Didn’t I tell you my assistant is perfect for the job?” Harry asks. The man who was standing on the door with his back on us turns around and claps, walking towards us. “You did tell me. Ms. (Y/L/N), I have heard many great things from your boss, I am glad to find out he was not exaggerating.” The man turns to me, smiling as he extends his hand for me to shake. “I don’t understand.” I utter, hesitantly stretching my hand to shake his. “This is my friend Paul Leonard, he owns the gallery we are in. I told him that I have a lovely assistant who is about to graduate with a History of Art title, he needed a new counselor.” Harry explains, his lips curling into a devious smirk. “And seeing you in action, made me realize I don’t need to look further. If you survived through working with Hazza over here, you will breeze through this job. What do you say?” Paul asks me. I am dumbfounded, looking at the man with my mouth agape. “Are you offering me the job? For real?” I ask and he nods. “I am. We can discuss the finances after you receive your degree and come back from your museum exploration in Italy. Don’t worry, your boss has filled me in your plans post-graduation.” “Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.” I shake his hand and he scoffs. “Of course I am not.” He assures me. “Now, about that painting. I think I will go for the warm tones. Can you show me a few pieces?” Harry asks, making Paul shakes his head. “I have been trying to sell him a painting for over a year now, and you just come in and do it in mere minutes. Unbelievable.” Paul shakes his head, pressing his hand on his forehead as he laughs. “I trust her taste more than I trust yours, I guess.” Harry winks at me, darting his tongue from between his lips and licking his bottom one suggestively.

“Still studying?” Harry asks as he walks into my apartment. I am holding the last batch of revision cards I made, reading through the notes on the back. “Yeah, sorry. My house is a mess and I look like crap.” I groan, making Harry chuckle at me. “It is fine. I will order some food and you can shower while I tidy up. I can help you with revision.” He suggests, prying the cards from my hand and planting a kiss on my forehead. “You don’t have to.” I mumble and he shakes his head. “I do. Now, head for a shower. That mop of hair needs to be washed. Go.” He gently pushes me towards the bathroom, until I give up and head in for a shower.

I think I have blacked out for most of my shower routine, doing everything mechanically, until I feel Harry’s arms around my waist. “Mind if I join you?” He asks me, bringing his lips to my neck. I relax my head back onto his chest, humming in approval as his hand traces up my stomach and lands to fondle my breast. “Your shower gel smells so good… I could eat you up right now.” He groans and I chuckle. “It is new. My friend Chrissy bought it for me to cheer me up.” I giggle, making Harry release a throaty moan. “Remind me to stock it up for you and send Chrissy a Thank You gift…” “You are being silly…” I giggle, but Harry stops that laugh by pushing me up against the wall. “Silly? That is a mean word, Ms. (Y/L/N)…” He groans in my ear, lowering his hand to my ass. His fingers spread my cheeks, trailing up to my entrance and rubbing over it in circles. I clench around nothing instinctively, turning my head to look at Harry who chuckles and shakes his head. “You are so needy… I bet you have been thinking of my cock fucking you so deeply.” He rasps. He is pressing his boner on my ass, showing me how excited he is for me. “What happens if I say no?” I ask, teasing him. “I will have to expose you as the liar you are.” He replies, pushing his cock inside me. I release a sigh of relief, throwing my ass back for him. He fucks me fast, slamming his hips against me as he grips onto my throat. My back is arched and my breasts are pressed against the wall, while he guides his cock deeper and deeper with every pound he delivers. “Your pussy is so tight… So fucking tight, it is perfect around my cock.” He growls in my ear, biting my earlobe. “You are hurting me.” I moan, my voice breaking. “Want me to stop?” He asks me, slowing down. “No. It is the good kind of hurt… I love it when you fuck me like that… I love it when you use me however you like…” I whimper, feeling his hand grip onto my throat tighter. “Of course you do, sweetheart. You are my favorite toy, my perfect little toy… Just for my cock, only for my cock.” He presses me harder on the wall, fucks me with more force now, fucks me like he hates me. And I love that; I love that he is inside me, I love that I get to be his and I love that I am the only one he fucks like that. “I can’t wait until we are in Italy, away from all anxiety and fucking all day long.” He kisses my pulse point under my jawbone, letting go of my neck. I gasp for breath, while Harry’s hand snakes down between my thighs. His fingers find my clit with ease, pressing on the pulsing bundle of nerves as I yelp softly. “You are going to be a good cum hole for me… And I am going to reward you… You are going to make me cum, right princess?” He rasps, his skin slapping against mine. “Yes, sir.” I utter, while his fingers work my clit. I squeeze myself around him, feeling him already pulsing between my walls. The cold tiles make my skin erupt in goosebumps, my nipples harden at the coolness and the water turning cold doesn’t really help in the situation. “I am going to cum so deep inside you. And you are going to take every last drop of my cum, like the good girl you are…” He praises, pinching my clit between his fingers. “Please…” I beg, tensing up at the sensation. He groans, chest puffing as he breathes heavily; I know he is going to cum, I can feel him going stiffer inside me, veins pulsing against my walls. It makes me feel warm on the inside as he fills me up, a smile on my lips spreading as I hear him moan my name quietly. He gasps as he pulls out of me, turning me around and sinking to his knees. Without wasting a breath, he falls to his knees, spreading my thighs more before he buries his face into my core. “Oh, God.” I gasp as his tongue toys with my clit. I bring my hands to his hair, pulling tightly at his locks. He sucks on the bundle of nerves hungrily, keeping eye contact with me. I stand on my toes, spreading my legs more and bringing out my core more. “I wonder if we taste good together…” Harry utters, before he brings his tongue to my entrance, thrusting his tongue inside me. I am on the verge of collapsing, feeling my back sliding down the wall as he hums against my core. His hands travel to my waist, pinning my body straight on the wall and keeping me fixed to continue his feasting. I feel my breath shorten every time he passes his tongue from my entrance to my clit. And what makes it worse is that he is still looking at me in the eye; his eyes are sparkling mischievously as he uses his tongue to bring me to my high. He is enjoying that way he is making me feel, he is enjoying every little jolt, every rasped breath, every tugging on his hair. He kisses my outer lips until he rests his head on my thigh and uses the tip of his tongue to tease my clit. I blink repeatedly, tensing up at the sensation. “We taste good together…” He smirks at me, watching me as I melt down completely. “I am… Fuck, Harry…” I cry out as he flicks his tongue, little soft strokes sending chills all over my body. “Cum, baby. You’ve earned it…” He encourages me; not that I really needed it, I was already on the edge.

“You are really not helping me much with studying… You know that, right?” I giggle, as Harry pulls away from our kiss. He is still on top of me, my legs on either side of his waist, and the flashcards spread on the floor of my living room. “Are you implying I am not a good study-buddy?” He asks me, gasping to fake offense. “I am telling you straight to your face. You are the worse study buddy I’ve ever had.” I reply, making him squint at me. “You are going to have to pay for this…” He growls playfully, bringing his fingers under my t-shirt to tickle my sides. I giggle uncontrollably, giving up the thought of studying today while Harry is present. “Oh, you are ticklish?” He teases me, tickling me even harder. “I am.” I manage to say through fits of hysterical giggles. “Oh, no…” He mocks. “I can’t study with you around. I give up.” I giggle, shaking my head. Harry leans in to kiss me, halting the tickles. “Oh, to be in Sardinia with you right now, on a boat, drinking wine…” He breathes softly, stroking my face with his fingertips. “We will be there sooner than you realize.” I reply, closing my eyes to daydream of our getaway. It will be lovely, I am sure. He and I with no distractions. For some reason, I keep on having the picture of us, Blue-Lagoon style… I know our vacation will be nothing like that- I mean, I hope so- but the vibe I get every time I picture our vacation is that. “What are you thinking, pretty?” He asks me, stroking my hair softly. “About our vacation…” I sigh and he hums. “Daydreaming?” He asks and I nod my head. “I just want to leave everything and pack my bags for Italy.” I sigh. “Soon. Soon, pretty girl.” He murmurs, leaning down to peck my lips.

The sea breeze hits my face as the boat cuts through the soft waves. It is a beautiful Sunday evening, and Harry has rented a boat for the weekend. We have sailed along the Amalfi coast and now we are making our way back to the spot we were picked by the boat. I am wrapped in a thin shawl, barely sealing any warmth in, but at the time it seems to help me. “Deep in thought?” Harry asks me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Not at all. I don’t have a single thought in mind.” I reply, leaning my head back on his shoulder. His hands are rested on my hips, fingers softly tracing under the hem of my bikini bottom. “I, on the other hand, am thinking about dinner. I have been starving for quite a while now…” He comments, making me chuckle. “Is there a time you are not hungry?” I ask him and he scoffs. He stays quiet, enjoying the sound the waves make while the boat skips through them. The scent fills my nostrils; his cologne mixing with the sea aura creates something I can only describe as addictive. His skin has turned a little darker, courtesy of the sun hitting his body as we leisurely laid on the deck, so his white, cotton shirt that rests unbuttoned on his body contrasts his skin beautifully. “Tomorrow we will be in Rome. Only for a couple of days though. Venice is waiting for us, then Florence and finally Sardinia.” Harry lists off; this is probably the thousandth time he has told me the cities we are visiting next, so I know for fact this is chatter to make up for the lack of dialogue. “And because I know you have a list of all the places you want to visit in Rome, I have arranged for us to be shown around. Kind of like a little road trip around the Ancient City. We will see every museum you want, for however long you want. We won’t even have to stay at our hotel, there are plenty of Inns we can spend the night at.” He whispers in my ear, strumming his thumb over my hip. I swallow the squeal that tries to escape my lips, simply settling to bouncing a little on my heels. “Harry… This trip… This has been more than I ever dared imagine. This has been dreamy, I don’t know how to thank you for this.” I turn around, bringing my arms to rest on his neck. “Your happiness is the greatest payment. Plus, this has been great for me too. I haven’t been this relaxed for the longest I can remember.” He sighs softly. He truly looks like a transformed version of himself, and I have to admit that this upgrade makes him a whole lot more attractive. “Who are you and what did you do to Mr. Styles?” I joke, making him roll his eyes at me. “I know. I am barely recognizing myself at this point…” He replies, leaving a kiss on my nose. “Let’s go eat. Your hunger must have gotten to me too.” I quickly say, pulling away from him.

One thing I have to be thankful for now that we are in Rome is that I don’t get seasick anymore. The weekend-long excursion was in every way beautiful, but the constant moving of the boat made me pop Dramamine after Dramamine into my mouth to avoid spilling my guts before everyone. Another thing on my gratitude list is the fact that Harry and I have been spending our days roaming in the little streets in the city’s neighborhoods, constantly sipping on refreshing little grapefruit sodas that apparently can be found in every corner street, sold in cute little glass bottles, and that we have been eating all the gelato our hearts desire. The sun has long set and Harry decided it is time for a light supper in one of the little bistros. Our diet lately has been consisting of pasta- in every way, shape, and form- which is so stereotypical of tourists in Rome. “I think that in Rome, even the worst pasta is still the best you’ve ever had.” Harry comments, swirling his fork into his linguine dish. “Or maybe you think so because this is what you have been told to think of.” I say back, making him furrow his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?” He asks me. “If you think about it, you have been told by everyone ever that Italians know how to cook the best pasta dishes. So, you have kinda been conditioned to think that you are having the best pasta here…” I explain and he chuckles. “Did my cynicism left my body and flew in yours?” Harry asks with a chuckle in his voice. “You are not as cynical as you think. And I am certainly not becoming one. I am just giving you another point of view on the matter.” I state, picking up a forkful of penne pasta. “Did I ask for it?” He asks me. “No. But I am very sure you wish you had.” I sass, earning a chuckle. “What do you want to do tonight?” He asks me and I shrug my shoulders, pushing my food around with my fork. “I think I want to just stay in tonight, I want to sleep a lot. Being out in the sun, walking around all day, it made me exhausted.” I reply. “Just sleep?” He asks me; I recognize the tone of his voice, I can tell the question was suggestive. “I don’t know. Do you have a better offer?” I ask him, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I might.” He winks at me, picking up the parmesan grater. “Oh, you might…” I scoff and shake my head.

“You looked very pretty today. That little sundress of yours looked perfect…” Harry compliments me as I strip out of my day clothes to get ready for a short shower. “I was wearing it all day. Now you remembered to tell me?” I giggle and grab my washing purse out of my weekend bag. “I didn’t really have the chance to tell you all day, did I? You have been asking Paolo about every little house on the streets we walked through. I couldn’t really interrupt you two, could I?” He asks and I roll my eyes at him. “Aren’t you exacerbating a bit?” I ask him and he shakes his head. “Not at all. Every little house in the ‘most historic area of Rome’, it was your opportunity to chat away with Paolo. Do I sense a little bit of a crush on the Italian stud?” Harry teases me, plugging his phone to charge. “Do I sense a little bit of jealousy about the Italian stud?” I ask back. “Jealousy? Please…” He scoffs at me, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I walk across the bed, standing before him before I take a seat on his lap. “You look cute when jealous.” I giggle softly, touching the tip of his nose softly. I pull him in for a kiss, tangling my fingers into his hair. I know he loves it when I play with his hair while we kiss, he lets out soft sighs as I do. His hands wrap around me, keeping me stable on his lap as we deepen the kiss. “I love you.” I whisper as his lips leave me lips to trail down my neck.

Suddenly Harry freezes, and tension fills the room in an instant. He pushes me away gently until I am sat on the side, and he stands up, pacing the room as he holds his temples. “What did you say?” He asks me; I am trying my hardest to read his voice, decipher his demeanor, and all this reminds me of is that night at that terrace, when we had a fallout about me being allowed to date. “I said I love you.” I reply, focusing on not making my voice break. I feel exposed to him all of a sudden, my nakedness dawning on me the longer he stays silently upset. “Stop it.” He doesn’t even look at me. “Harry, I understand this is sudden but…” “I said stop it. I don’t want to hear a word, I don’t want you to mention that again. Stop it, just stop.” “Harry, please. I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.” I plead, slipping into my dress. “And I am trying to avoid it.” He snaps at me, the intensity of his voice making me shiver. “You can scream and shout, but you are going to listen to me. I have to be honest with you, I have to be honest with myself. I love you. I truly do. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to fall for you. But I did. And you can deny it all you want, but I know you love me too. I don’t know what you are so afraid of, but I know you love me.” I walk up to him, standing proudly before the man who chuckles. “You think I love you? You think I give a damn about you? You are nothing but a fuck, (Y/N). Nothing more than that. I can pay anyone to take your place. Hell, they would even do it for less than what I spend on you. You mean nothing to me, so stop being delusional.” He hisses, his face becoming red as I walk backward to distance myself from him. “You don’t mean that…” I stutter and he scoffs at me, shaking his head. “Oh, I don’t? Come here, let’s see whether I mean it or not…” He grabs me by my wrist, dragging me to the nightstand where his phone is charging. He unlocks the device and taps a shortcut which directs him straight to the Seeking Arrangement website. He scrolls through a list of profiles, picking up a random one. He looks at me in the eye, so much hatred in his gaze, before he sends a message to the girl behind the profile. I pull myself away from him, walking to my side of the bed. It is like I have snapped out of a dream violently and I am back to reality; he never changed, he is still the same person I met all those months ago. I pull my weekend back up on the bed, throwing my stuff inside as fast as I can. “What are you doing?” He asks me as if the last 10 minutes never happened. “You can pay someone else to take my place. I have to walk away from all this, I have to walk away from you. I can’t do this anymore, I am done. I am leaving you.” I reply, zipping my bag before raising my gaze to meet his. He clenches his jaw and moves to the door, opening it for me. I pick up my bag and my backpack, pressing my tongue against my bottom teeth to stop myself from tearing up. “If you walk out of here, you are dead to me.” He states. I nod my head and purse my lips, turning my head to look at him. “Goodbye, Harry.” I reply, shutting the door as I step out of the hotel room.

My Masterlist / New York City / New York City & Aspen / Epilogue / Rose Colored Glasses Vol. 2, Part 1: New York / Part 2: New York, Upper East Side / Part 3: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City / Part 4: Upper East Side, New York City & Low Manhattan, New York City / Part 5: Harry’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York City, Winter Wonderland / Part 6: New York, Zurich, London / Epilogue; Hawaii

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klanceficatalogue · 4 years

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Klance Fic Starter Pack

So back in June of 2018 I made a Klance Fic Starter Pack post but since it’s been a long while since then I decided it’s finally time for an update. So here we have it! - Karri

so why don’t we fall by aknightley (1/1 | 8,218 | Explicit)

Five times Lance used a pet name for Keith, and one time Keith used one for Lance.

Keith has no basis for having a relationship with someone, so he's trying to follow Lance's lead.

//nsfw

The Marks We Make by wittyy_name (12/12 | 255,302 | Mature)

Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

//nsfw

(shallura, hunk/shay)

Nightmares by Trashness (1/1 | 14,864 | Teen And Up)

Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this.

Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.

call me, beep me (10/10 | 85,591 | General)

(00:31) Do you think she gave me the wrong number on purpose? (00:31) Or was it a genuine mistake? (00:32) Like maybe she writes funny and I misread it? (00:32) Some of the numbers do look a little dodgy... (00:33) Cause, you know, her threes could very easily be poorly formed eights? And maybe she writes her sevens like her ones? (00:45) What (00:46) The (00:46) Fuck??? (00:47) Oh good, you are awake!

where lance messages the wrong number and things kind of snowball from there

(shallura)

Shut Up and Dance With Me by wittyy_name (15/15 | 249,827 | Mature)

Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.

Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.

With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.

//nsfw

(shallura)

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by klancekorner (13/13 | 135,555 | Mature)

Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else.

//anxiety //insecurities //nsfw

i bet you look good on the dancefloor by xShieru (7/7 | 43,295 | Teen And Up)

"So like in 'Step Up'?" Allura shrugs. "Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it's just like in 'Step Up'." The smile that she sends Shiro's way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn't believe in dance camps.

Lance McClain's dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Keith just wants to find out what Lance's deal is.

(shallura)

you never stood a chance by kagshina (1/1 | 12,221 | Teen And Up)

lance to hunk ♡ >i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent >keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said >”BET YOU WANNA LICK THESE NIPS” >HUNK I WILL NEVE BE ABLE TO FCE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO DI E

(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there's lots of shirtless selfies)

nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts (1/1 | 50,369 | Teen And Up)

Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

Sweet Quiznak by CheckeredCloth (4/4 | 6,819 | Teen And Up)

"You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him.

"Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife."

Or: Lance is badly injured and has a few skeletons in his closet. Or maybe just the one.

//blood //injury

What a Healing Pod Can’t Repair by Remember_Me (12/12 | 55,777 | Teen And Up)

The compromised wormhole was ripping apart at the seams, sending everyone spiraling away in completely different directions. Lance could feel himself being pulled and bent in ways he was definitely not supposed to be. -- Stitching the team back together after everyone is separated is difficult, and for one Paladin rescue wouldn't be coming for a very long time.

//violence //blood

Bonding Time by magisterpavus (1/1 | 16,416 | Explicit)

“Shiro, I fucked up,” Keith blurted, wringing his hands.

Shiro paused mid-punch, shooting him a quizzical look. “What? What happened?”

“I think,” Keith whispered, “I think I accidentally roofied Lance. With my dick.”

//nsfw

Homesick at Space Camp by K0bot (15/15 | 74,280 | Teen And Up)

Lance realizes he's been an asshole to Keith, and on a diplomatic mission to a key planet for the Voltron alliance he... overcompensates.

//blood //injuries //panic attacks

we’ll make it, you and me by ghostcribs (1/1 | 6,421 | Teen And Up)

"Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

//injury

time out of mind by aknightley (2/2 | 27,849 | Teen And Up)

Keith and Lance wake up married. In the future.

He lays there a moment, processing the faint throbbing in his head, a strange bitter taste like lemons in his mouth. When he opens his eyes, the room spins wildly into a kaleidoscope of colors, so he closes them again, breathing in and out until he feels less like he might throw up. He suddenly registers a warm weight over his waist, and lifts his head to see a brown arm thrown over him. It looks startlingly familiar, but different, bigger than he remembers, more toned.

Keith turns all the way around and comes face to face with Lance sleepily blinking his own eyes open.

A Fish And A Bird by Methoxyethane (1/1 | 13,141 | Teen And Up)

Lance has a boyfriend. Lance does not realize he has a boyfriend. Keith, understandably, does not react well.

On Thin Ice by anonimina (11/11 | 205,795 | Mature)

This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.

Or: the not-so-simple story of two people trying to navigate the complexities of living in an ever changing world and face the traumas they've buried far away from the sunlight.

//anxiety

(shallura, hunk/shay)

bench press me by eggboi (1/1 | 1,683 | Teen And Up)

“The hell are you doing?” Keith grumbles out, body mid-push up. There’s a snicker behind him, too close to his ears, though Keith can’t really understand what would be so amusing about this. Then again, he’s not really sure why Lance is lying on him while he’s doing push ups either. Other than to be, of course, annoying.

“Nothing.” Lance finally says. Keith hears the grin in his voice, which only proves to irritate him a little more. ‘Nothing’ his ass. “Continue with what you’re doing, Mr. ‘I’m-Too-Good-For-Socialization’.”

(Lance, as always, tries to annoy Keith by making his exercise harder. It doesn’t work. At all.)

My Youth Is Yours by MilkTeaMiku (10/10 | 29,980 | General)

An unforseen blast in the middle of a battle de-ages Lance into a child for a week.

Keith does not understand babies.

#klance #voltron #vld #klance fic #klance fics #voltron fic #voltron fics #vld fic #vld fics #klance starter pack #klance fic starter pack

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swga-ficrecs · 3 years

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june 2021 recap

ahh june was a really fic-filled month!!! i used to be a silent reader but then i realized that it’s hard to go back to the fics i really liked reading since i had no way of finding them except for remembering key words and googling the shit out of it lol so!!! i thought of doing a monthly recap of all my favorites in addition to the fics i like and reblog. thank you to these wonderful authors who just write pure magic ✨

🏆 holy grail | ☀️ fluff | 🌧 angst | 💋 smut.

fave authors

🏆 @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong

HOLY GRAIL AUTHOR!!! Loved a lot of their series because of the tropes and the plot. I’ll definitely come back to their fics in the future for another binge reading session

@taecalikook

Really loved their fuckboy trope fics. Has a few unfinished fics I’m excited to binge read once they’re completed

🏆 @gukyi

Discovered their work back in 2017? Really loved IGYMH and reread their masterlist this month

@ve1vetyoongi

All I can remember is the ending of Mic Drop and I can’t 😭 I’m really excited for their unfinished fics!!!!

fave fics

Arranged by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: chaebol MYG x student reader

Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

Dissonance by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong 🏆 🌧 ☀️

Pairing: bassist KTH x student / band manager reader

The Parting by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong 🏆 🌧 ☀️

Pairing: flower shop owner PJM x reaper reader

The only certainty in life is death, and it seems to follow Park Jimin. All his life, the icy shadow of death has hung closely by his side, along with the shadow of…something else. Reapers exist to guide the souls of the living to the world beyond. But what happens when a particular Reaper tampers with the natural order and saves a mortal boy’s life? What will they do once their fates become inextricably linked?

From Home by @gyukult 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: chaebol JJK x reader

jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

(Not) Just Friends by @.taecalikook 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Bestfriend / fuckboy / fratboy JJK x reader ft. KSJ

Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermilion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So was Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and… a certain Kim Seokjin.

Partiality by @jiminimoon 🏆 🌧

Pairing: Husband PJM x reader

You and Jimin argue about your kids not loving you two equally

Brown-eyed Baby by @jeonstudios 🏆 ☀️ 🌧 💋

Pairing: Single Parent JJK x reader

a lost child at the mall. eyes from a different time.

I’ll Give You My Heart by @.gukyi 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: CEO bestfriend MYG x reader

gift exchanges are cool. gift exchanges with your ceo-slash-best friend min yoongi are less cool, because what the hell are you supposed to get the man that already has everything?

The Truth Between Us by @.gukyi and @jimlingss 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Editor MYG x reader

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

Love is Blind by @cinnaminsvga 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

[Final] Pairing: Fake boyfriend KNJ x reader

social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way)

Love Grows Where You Go by @hueseok 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Fiancé MYG x reader

determined to make you and yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. you know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you’re positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don’t find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. that is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned.

Give Me Love by @.hueseok 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Lawyer boyfriend KNJ x reader

you’ve been in a relationship with your boyfriend for over five years now, yet the talk of marriage has never been initiated between the two of you. of course, you try to somehow squeeze it in from time to time, but it seems like no matter what, namjoon just won’t take the hint

Cornfields and Cosmos by @jessikahathaway ☀️ 🌧 💋

Pairing: Alien MYG x reader

Cornfields: He was an alien. You were a girl. Can I make it any more obvious? Probably. It’s the one where Yoongi’s a cold alien that needs love too.

Cosmos: Yoongi and you had been travelling together for a long time. You’d begun the terrifying journey of becoming parents. When a new person arrives in a way you didn’t expect, you and Yoongi’s relationship is sent into a tailspin.

The Art of Craving by @venusiangguk ☀️ 💋

Pairing: Single parent DILF JJK x reader

jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.

fics to i’m waiting to finish before binge reading

What we are not ; Soulmates by @.taecalikook

Pairing: MYG x reader x KTH

you love yoongi with all your heart throughout these five years being in a relationship with him. you always thought he is the one — your one, even when the infamous soulmate signs are still not showing. yet you always wait, because you know it’s him you are destined to be with, forever. but what would happen if then his childhood best friend comes along, with the universe-signed telltales that you have been looking for true love in all the wrong places?

When the sea sleeps by @.taecalikook

Pairing: KSJ x reader

marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

After Midnight by @.gyukult

Pairing: JJK x reader

jeon jungkook only likes seeing you after midnight.

Better With You by @ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: KSJ x reader

A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Operation: Love Letters by @.ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: OT7 x reader

When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

Remember Me by @.ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: OT7 x reader

Taehyung wants to be forgotten. Overwhelmed by his life as idol persona V, he longs to just be Kim Taehyung for once. Even if that means forgetting everything he ever knew

🏆 The Prince and His Rose by @vanaera

Pairing: Football player / Childhood bestfriend JJK x reader

Drabble series of “For a While”

The Heart Holiday by @.vanaera

Pairing: MYG x reader

Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

My Time by @.vanaera

Pairing: JJK x reader

A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case.

Lost Stars by @.hueseok

Pairing: JJK x reader

the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.

so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.

Dexterity + Stupidity by @.hueseok

Pairing: JJK x reader

a drabble series that features surgical intern!jeongguk x surgical resident!reader as they go through their odd senior-junior relationship, obviously having the hots for each other and yet, frustratingly goes into twists and turns in order to properly act on it.

Crimson Grail by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: MYG x reader

There were tales of the famed pirate Min Yoongi, Captain of the Crimson Grail. However, one meeting with him is hardly ever enough… One taste of adventure, and you were addicted.

Baby Talk by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: PJM x JJK x reader

Jimin and Jungkook had been trying to get a surrogate for years. Finally when you agree to help them, their dreams seem to be coming true. But, dreams change…

Vegas, Baby by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: KTH x reader

They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens when there’s a little more legality to it than that?

Taming the Beast by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: KTH x reader

You were the next in line to be the head of your village, when your mother gave you to the enemy to save your people from merciless slaughter. What happens when they try to Tame a Beast?

Owner by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: JJK x reader

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

If Only You Knew by @agustdakasuga

Pairing: BTS x reader

From the start, you knew you wanted to be a hybrid rehabilitator. You needed to help these hybrids heal, learn to live with one another and lead normal lives. Even if they are all different, you hoped that they could give each other a new reason to live.

#monthly recap #bts fics #bts jungkook #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts v #bts taehyung #bts fic recs #bts fanfic

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magnificentstrangerchaos · 2 years

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‘To Do’ List (Summer of 2022)

So, I found the ‘To Do’ list I made at the end of June/start of July. It was shoved /as I anticipated it would have been/ among my other sheets of paper haphazardly thrown into a folder.

I’ll go through all of the points and talk about how things have been going, adding things I have done along the way to make it look like I actually did more than I planned for my own pleasure.

1. Fix Laptop

At the start of December 2021 my laptop started getting really sad. Like, bluescreens and tells me there is no Windows installed kind of sad. I took it to a place my dad usually fixes his laptops and I got a new HDrive and a new battery because the old one said “Goodnight” one evening and stopped working. It’s pretty good, well... better than it was before, faster too.

I might have to take it to the same place again. I tried installing Genshin on it once and it BS-ed. I uninstalled it and commenced with my work but it seems that ALSO if it overheats it bluescreens again. It’s been manageable, I have a fan and everything. All data is backed up.

(Side note I have this USB flash disk that is really messed up and all my art files/refs are there. I need to fix it and get them OUT or else I’m going to cry. I didn’t have time to back it up before the last drive died and this was the only storage unit that could suck up all 200K of my files.... Don’t ask, I’m a hentai writer and draw-er)

I don’t want to push for a new laptop of any kind because a dream for a ‘FUTURE’ experience is to have an actual PC. Doesn’t matter gaming-intended or not (probably not) that inevitably means I need to find a permanent place to stay since it’s a hassle to carry an entire PC around. Two-to-three more years this buddy needs to survive.

Might get a new keyboard though, literally anything side-bought so far would be implemented into the new boyo anyways. And as I name all my PC periphery, I will call the new keyboard Antoine (current one being called Antonio). Guess A’s run in the family C:

2. Fix tooth

At the end of my exams I thought I found myself a cavity. Turns out my teeth are perfect (according to the dentist) and it’s one of those small cavities that is fixable with good toothpaste and mouth-wash. To be fair, the mouth-wash I got (rec by the doctor) freaking does a whale of a job but it also tastes like every medicine you will ever taste at the time time. I’m 1/3 way through the bottle and it’s SO COOL because it’s the type that comes with a pre-installed cup. You squeeze it, fill it up, sip, do your thing. I’d buy it again.

3. Herbarium

...

I mean... I got a couple new flowers to add.

Petals of a rose a friend of mine got me over a sleepover we had; A tiger-rose from our garden (side note, I need to go pick some of its leaves because I only managed to harvest the blossom); A damascene rose; Two types of orchids

I think I’m going to spend a while just going through the entire book sticking rice paper between the pages where the flowers would go, just to have it over with. I’ll concentrate on it over spring when everything blooms anew.

4. Go out at least once a week

...

This is a personal attack

5. Go paint the seaside

Will do, that’s probably what I’ll be doing for the three or four days I’m there other than reminiscing stories/fics.

6. Paint the mountains

I took photos of places I’ve been, so that will happen in the future as well.

7. Finish the ZhongChi fic (Ch. 3)

Listen here, you little [redacted].

Alright, okay. So, I TRIED. ‘Dragon Gazing At a Sea Of Clouds’ was a great story, I really enjoyed writing it when I was in my Childe rut days a little before getting him in Genshin. Chapter 2 - ‘The Fox That Stole The Dragon’s Heart’ was also a success that I don’t even know how I came up with.

This entire thing was a gag, a meme I saw someone post on twitter about regarding Zhongli’s magic portable onahole (it’s a fleshlight) being connected to Childe’s backside while he’s in a meeting with the Tsaritsa. I got invested. And then pretty much slipped out of it.

I WANT to finish it, I absolutely do. I have an outline of what will happen - their Chinese-themed wedding, their wedding night, both tied up to each other, ears, tails and horns all out in display. HORNY hours, you know?

So, I really need some stimuli to get going. I’ve been unable to play Genshin for a couple months and while I’m obsessed with KNOWING about the game (I have it on my phone), it’s been hard to get inspired. I’m doing my best, I want it to be good. It just feels like I’ve been repetitive in other fics or I somehow accidentally wrote what I intended for ZhongChi other places.

Call it deja-vu of an unfortunate writer.

8. Edit ‘Aster Tataricus’

That’s a future project honestly. I wrote it in December/Over Christmas and the responce was SO GOOD. The person who inspired me, Wiann on Twitter is a gem and they still follow me. I also adore watching their works in general, they have their own writing done as well and it’s *bites fist*

9. Write Ch. 2 of ‘When The Owls Cry’

I still can’t decide if I want to make it ‘Owls Cry’ or ‘Owl Cries’, both have a meaning for me.

Haven’t gotten to that part YET either, but I did go back to Chapter 1 and I redid it after the event to feature the whole eyepatch secret and sending letters.

10. Finish ‘Lullabye For My Feeble Heart’

I usually never outline works and just write them out in one breath when I figure I want to, but this one is indeed outlined. I have the entire plot ready, each chapter sorted. All I need is to execute it, but as you can see if you read everything so far - I want to finish those that are on the VERGE of completion and then latch onto longer works.

11. Finish ‘Wish Whispered Upon A Star’

Aye... I recently posted the chapter before the last, so we count that as progress. I’ll force myself to finish writing out my missing lectures this week, so I can spend Saturday and Sunday on that (27-28/08)

12. Take part in 2022 MXTX BDSM week

I DID, but the last story is missing, because I took a hiatus due to personal reasons. You can find the series here days 1 to 6 available.

(Can you feel how happy I am for the easy access to hyperlinks? I borderline was forced to code to figure out how to insert stuff in AO3.)

13. Make the FengQing threadfic

Mmm... I wrote like.... two additional pages for it in my google doc and then scroll past it as if it’s a scratch that I want to itch but I just hover it instead.

14. Draw the Izora mural digitally

Haaahahahahaha.

I have to if things with CSP are getting as serious as they look. I can’t decide if I want to push around with art or press on with fics. Maybe I will take until December to complete whatever I have WITHOUT (lies) adding any new ones, so I can then concentrate on drawing again. It’s a pre-drawn thing on paper, but I want it digitally, because colouring would be so much easier.

15. Make new sketches for CandleHeart and Nyrian Thantis

I’m rather proud of those honestly. I want more portraits so I can use them on the different accounts.

16. Write at least one fic with mermaids

I accidentally forgot about this and when I read it I was like “!!!”

It’s on twitter, but you can check out the teaser here, because while it is complete in the sense of a thread fic, there is more that will be included in the final version that’s going to AO3.

17. Work on the VN maybe?

Yeah, this was a ‘maybe’ since the Visual Novels I have planned will be absolutely pushed back for until this problem with CSP has come to an end so I can know which programs to use and which tools to pick out.

18. Play League of Legends with M

WE DID AND IT WAS SO FUN, I love her. She’s a sweetheart. That’s all you need to know.

19. Read MDZS

I’m at... Book 2 maybe page 130. Book 3 came out not even a week ago, so I’m waiting to see which website is going to offer me that sweet, sweet money-sucking service of delivering it to me.

20. Things I HAVE done as a side-project include

-I got to stock up on clothes I’ve been ignoring my need for.

-I ordered amazing stuff off Aliexpress and while you may think ‘How amazing CAN it be’, I’ll do a little show of them when they arrive. I’m really excited, most of all for the pins I ordered, because I want to stick out like a sore thumb with them.

-I finally bought my brother his birthday present. He’s been waiting for it for SO long. After I finish with my work tomorrow I should zoom to the other tech-shops I know are around town so I can get two more things I need and then I can proudly go back home.

-I set a goal to hit 40 fics by the end of the year, currently we’re at 34, so finishing the stuff above will probably skyrocket me above that number.

-I finally got a new phone case, needed that because the other one was falling apart.

-Got two new wrist-watches because I’ve had an itch to wear one since Autumn last year.

-I’m getting a third piercing on my ear in October.

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years

Text

I was in a toxic friendship

I want to preface this by saying I am so much happier right now and I am no longer friends with this person. Haven’t seen or heard from her in over a year. I also want to be clear this was a friendship I had in real life, not tumblr. I think however this story’s lessons can be applicable across the board to online friendships and even relationships with family members. Please, if you ever feel belittled by your “friends,” and you bring it up to them and they brush it aside and think you’re overreacting, it’s not a friendship.

I was friends with this person, let’s call her Stacy, for about ten years before I realized I no longer wanted to speak to her or be her friend. I met her in the ninth grade and we bonded over Disney World and other things and I could talk to her about anything, including this huge crush I had on a twelfth grade boy. She came over to my house sometimes, though not a lot, and as high school wore on we started going to the mall together, stuff like that. I went to college in a different city and she came to visit me sometimes, and we even worked at the same theme park, though different departments. For all intents and purposes this was my best friend, though Stacey got upset when I also called my cousin my best friend, even though she spoke of her sister as her best friend.

She got a boyfriend when we were both around 21/22 or so, I think we were both juniors in college, though she took a semester off because she hated school and thought it was weird I was a double major. She told me her boyfriend was thirty and she met him at work. I thought the age gap was a little big, but I wasn’t one to judge. Later on I found out he was 36 and she told me she lied because she was worried how I would react. I met him and I thought he was nice, but when she got engaged when we were both around 23, I had only met him that one time for a birthday dinner she had, and my mom and dad told me they thought it was kind of strange. They also said it was weird to them whenever I hung out with Stacey it was only for like an hour, two at most, especially since my cousin and I could spend days and day together at sleepovers, chilling and being ourselves, interpretative dancing, lol. Privately I also found it odd I could talk to Stacey about anything, but when I asked questions about her life and her thoughts she’d barely talk. Her grandma passed away, she loved visiting my grandma because she could have one through me. One day I broke down and admitted my grandmother is a narcissist, and she is different behind closed doors. she berates me, used to call me fat, berated me. Stacey didn’t believe me. I can’t say when she started not being such a good presence in my life, but these were some seeds, and it got worse--slow at once and then all at once as they say.

Anyway, I was a bridesmaid of hers and her sister was the maid of honor--a mutual friend was another bridesmaid and there was one more (super sweet girl and I don’t even think Stacy talks with her much anymore either LMAO) and at this point in my life I was really into my first fanfic IWD. I was consumed with it, to put it bluntly. This is another story entirely but I spent so much of my college career as an English major writing for academia, and when I was finally writing something for me, I bloomed. I talked to her about it and she kind of laughed about this Cullen person but she liked to read fanfic herself so was whatever about me doing it. I shared with her my first piece of commissioned art and she laughed at Lydia thinking Lydia was just me, and I told her, no, she wasn’t, she’s based off of several old hollywood ladies and I actually made her avatar in game, but she wouldn’t believe it. I actually ended up saying “would you think this if I were white and she were white as well” and she laughed and didn’t understand. Needless to say the whole incident rubbed me the wrong way. I ignored it. Her wedding happened, her sister made a good speech, then when all the groomsmen did a speech for the groom the other Bridesmaids and I thought we had to do something, so we got up there and made an impromptu speech. I called her my sister and I told her I loved her. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t believe her when she said “love you too.”

I wanted to go back to school, and I ended up in a Masters program after the wedding. My summer semester, my first, went well, starting in June and ending in July. I finished IWD and went to another fic, Stacey making fun of Sophie, my OC for that fic too, because I just straight up made her part Hawaiian like I am. When I told her I had little representation growing up other than like Lilo and Stitch and now Moana, (which I don’t like TBH but another story lol.) she asked me what the big deal was about that. Why did it matter that no main character ever looked as I looked? I couldn’t explain to her how much writing a character who was like me in a fanfic mattered. We planned on going to Disney World, me, her, her sister, and the other bridesmaid, but don’t post anything on facebook because she didn’t want to invite the other other bridesmaid. I wanted to go to a nightclub with her for my birthday but she didn’t want to go because her sister couldn’t enter, so after my whole family, plus her and her husband ate at my favorite restaurant, she went home even after I begged her to come with my and my cousin. She said it was stupid. Also, her husband was a huge ass to wait staff. Alarm bells went off for all of us.

But I was looking forward to Disney in December that year. (2018) I didn’t have a job at the time but was actively looking. Well, I got a job after interview after interview at restaurants that wouldn’t hire me, my dream job researching Shakespeare. It fell through. (I was promised to actively help the professor research, it fell through.) She paid for the trip without me knowing and I had to pay her back 800 dollars on writing commissions which I severely underpriced. because I was worried no one would pay otherwise. School wasn’t going well. Put it simply I felt really dumb and stupid and like I didn’t belong, (we were reading Ulysses!!!) which I later learned was a common sentiment with my classmates who began the same time as I. I will admit my relationship with academia is rocky at the moment, but I genuinely do love to write, love to research, love to make discoveries about new texts. Stacey saw how stressed I was and sad and got angry I was so sad, and asked why was I in school anyway Am I going to be on my deathbed and wished I studied harder? I didn’t have the energy to tell her it wasn’t about “studying harder,” it was that I loved writing and reading and wanted to be a part of academia. Learning makes me happy, expanding my mind. She belittled me anyway, thinking getting a Masters was dumb and I wouldn’t get a good job.

At Disney World I was so happy. I hadn’t been there since I was a child. She made fun of me for wanting to meet Ariel, for wanting to ride Soaring and being afraid to check grades when a classmate said they were up. I got so stressed I cried at the Japan pavilion at Epcot and stress ate sauerbraten at the Germany pavilion (Amazing by the way, I love German food.) She basically dictated the entire trip--we went to Universal for Harry Potter World at her request and refused to ride the spider man ride with me (it was fucking fun too-girl missed out.) All she wanted to do was stand around in Harry Potter world all day, (LOL now right?) I wasn’t that big of a Potter fan anymore, even at that point, and she told me I was going to stay there anyway and like it. She dictated the entire trip and when I questioned her about it she said I wasn’t listening to to her--we were following the agenda. Our last day there we went to a “Hawaiian” restaurant and made a comment about my “Hawaiian privileges.” I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the crap we ate didn’t hold a candle to real Hawaiian luau food.

When we got back I was mentally drained and melancholic because I wondered why Stacey was so cruel to me. She always had a biting wit, but before it seemed playful. Now it was cruel, mocking. She made me feel so incredibly stupid. At this point my cousin got engaged and I cried because I wanted so badly to be in love with someone and get married. I was angry and I lashed out at people I shouldn’t have. I was later diagnosed as depressed. I felt like my life was at a standstill and matters with Stacey didn’t help. I also had a huge writing crisis--I told Stacey something I will always remember and always regret because she doesn’t deserve to know: I write the romances I want because no man wants me. At this point, Stacy turned me into her project. She didn’t like how sad I was at Disney World, it put a bummer on her trip, and when I told her she seemed off she brushed it off. Her plan was to get me on dating apps and basically settle for anyone, even though I had used apps before and don’t like them, but when I got back on Bumble she basically patronized me and told me she was proud of me and “small steps.” On bumble, I wanted to vomit. (for the record, I am not against dating apps, I know success stories, but at that time I was not emotionally ready to date.) Also, she would teach me to drive so I could go on dates, but only in my Dad’s truck.

I wish I could say I broke it off, that I told her not to talk to me again, but Stacey stopped talking to me first. However. the day she stopped was when I told her she was wrong and I wouldn’t listen to this anymore. What happened? I mentioned I was demisexual. She said it wasn’t real. I said it was real to me--I don’t experience sexual attraction unless I have bonded with someone. Sure there are people I like to look at, but it’s not a sexual attraction. She asked about my crush on Tom Hiddleston, Cullen, “that robot guy” and was like yeah you’re sure demi, and lol it’s not real. It wasn’t just her words, it was the mocking indifference.

I went off. I told her she didn’t have the right to tell me what was in my brain or how I felt. I knew who I was and who I am. I should have also told her I wasn’t her project, but I left her that day and it was the last time I saw her.

I talked to my dad that night and mentioned it to him, being demi, and you know what he told me? I think I’m the same way. I think I almost cried.

I tried to talk to her again but she didn’t want to see me. She had “personal issues and was busy” I pissed her off. Good, I say now. But after this happened in March of 2019 I thought I had no friends. She was my only friend, and I lost another mutual friend (one we went to Disney with) because she knew Stacey longer than she knew me. But you know what happened in April? My cousin asked me to be her maid of honor and I fucking wept, because there was my best friend--my sister all along. Just because she lives in another city and we are growing up and it took me longer to figure out my career than her doesn’t change the fact that we have a bond that can’t be broken. My cousin is one of my favorite people and if you know her you love her--it is impossible not to. And when I told her about my fanfic and about being demi she wanted to know, wanted to listen. School got better too--I started chatting in class more and come to find out, one of my classmates also broke up with a toxic friend. God I love her and I miss her--wish I could see her. (thanks COVID)

There was more, but this was a lot, and I spent more time writing this than I thought I would. I wanted to write it because seeing a few posts float around made me remember, and I want ya’ll to know, leaving a friendship is scary. Sometimes it can be worse than leaving a lover. But it is a brave thing to do. Part of me that knew I should have left at the first racist comment (oh yeah, she called me a pineapple one day before the Disney trip, did I mention it’s a slur for Hawaiian people? If my grandma were there she would have clobbed her.) but I stayed because I didn’t think I had any other friends. Well, I did and I do, and I know now friends lift each other up, not belittle or talk behind your back. They listen to me when I talk about how important my writing and my characters are to me.

Sometimes I still miss her--but mostly the high school her that I knew before she met her husband. I don’t know if he changed her or this was her all along, perhaps both. I got fired from a job in November 2019 (which now I’d like to thank them because I got a better and more fulfilling job with a boss that respects me.) and when I cried outside the place, humiliated, I wanted to call her and vent like I used to. I didn’t. Now I don’t want to call her anymore or talk to her. I’d rather spend time with people who care, people who don’t kick me when I’m down. Since then I am so much stronger, in so many ways. The worst times in my life yielded the greatest lessons I have ever learned.

If you made it this far, thank you. I did tear up a little writing this, but please know: it can be hard to walk a new path, but it is brave. You are brave. You don’t deserve to be belittled *hugs*

#personal #toxic friend #ok to reblog #tw: depression #tw: racism #yep she was that bad and I was blind for a long time

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ineloqueent · 4 years

Text

Starstruck: Part 10

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 10 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 9 / Part 11

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies:

Crystal did not join Queen until November of 1975

There is no attic bedroom at Ridge Farm

Word Count: 6.6k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Before you knew it, it was June, and you were packing your suitcase with the last of the things you were taking home for the summer holidays.

You were absolutely ecstatic to have this year’s exams finished, especially because you’d made very high marks on Carmichael’s final assessment. Brian had done well too, turning around excitedly in his chair when he was handed back his test, waving the paper in your direction with a brilliant smile as he pointed to the percentage marked in red. You’d made a clapping motion in his direction, and he’d mouthed thank you. The gratitude shone in his eyes, and happiness bubbled up inside you at what an improvement you’d helped him to make.

Today, however, frazzled nerves replaced elation, your insides tumbling and your hands unable to stay steady for very long at a time. Today was the day that you would go with Freddie, Roger, Deacy, and Brian to your home at Ridge Farm. Today was the day that you would join two halves of your life, and having never imagined that they would coincide, you were anxious about how it would go.

The day after the expedition to Zandra Rhodes’ flat, you had called your parents to discuss the notion of Queen coming to stay and to use the studio. Your dad had been thrilled, overjoyed that a real band was coming to use his studio, a studio he’d worked so hard to design and to build and to maintain. Your mum was pleased too— it was a long time since you’d had friends over, and she was happy to finally be meeting the people you now spent the majority of your time with, to put faces to names. Your brother would be home too, but, your mum said, “As he’s not yet got up and it’s two in the afternoon, he gets no say in the matter.” And so it was decided that Queen would be spending the summer of ‘75 at Ridge Farm.

Heather, Veronica, and the often-elsewhere Mary Austin would also be joining the party, and plus two roadies, your number totalled to ten. Roger, as the only one with a car, was taking himself, Heather, Freddie, Mary, and his roadie Chris— though everyone called him Crystal— up to the farm. You, Brian, Deacs, Veronica, and John Harris— another of Queen’s roadies— were to take the train.

It was a quarter past one in the afternoon when you shut your suitcase, tossed on a pair of sunglasses, and bid your other housemates goodbye for the summer. Heather, who was to play the role of navigator for Roger, had gone on ahead to his flat because it would take a little longer to reach Surrey by car than by train. You were headed to the Waterloo Station to meet the others in time for the train’s departure at 13:39 for an estimated arrival at Epsom, Surrey, at 14:23.

When you opened your front door, you were surprised to find none other than Zandra Rhodes with her hand raised to knock.

“Oh, hello!” she said brightly. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Me?” you laughed. “How do you even know where I live?”

She shrugged. “Freddie.”

“Ah.”

“Quite.”

You hesitated. “I’d say come in and have a cup of tea, but I’m actually on my way to the train station,” you winced apologetically.

Zandra waved her hand. “It’s fine. I’m busy myself. And I assume today is the day that the band goes off to the countryside? Freddie mentioned,” she explained.

“Yep, off to write an album!”

“Must be so exciting, all that musician stuff,” Zandra mused, shaking her head. “Anyhow, I’m here to give you this.” She handed you a soft parcel wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with white string. “Go on, open it. You may want to take it with you.”

You looked at her questioningly before setting down your bag so as to free your hands. You pulled at the string and it fell free of the package, which in turn fell open. Inside lay a swath of sparkly black fabric.

Lifting it up from the wrapping paper, you admired what Zandra had turned into a blouse. With a deep v-neck slit, little buttons down the abdomen, a cinched-tie waist and long, cinched sleeves, the blouse was the picture of elegance. It reminded you of the night sky.

“Zandra, it’s beautiful,” you smiled at her. “Thank you. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” she said. “But, you owe it to yourself to try to impress a certain someone, wearing that top.”

“I haven’t got anyone to—”

“Oh, sure you do!” she exclaimed, such great spirit that it did not cross your mind to contradict her again. “Let me know how it goes when you get back to London, yeah?”

You pressed your lips together. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing ever did.

“Will do,” you said. “And thanks again. Truly, it’s lovely.”

“I know. Have fun!” she waggled her fingers in a wave and looked both ways before striding across the road.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

From Camden you made for Waterloo, and shortly after you arrived, you spotted Brian.

At the familiar sight of gangly limbs paired with a slim figure and a mass of curly hair, standing on the platform with his head bowed over whatever it was he held in his hands, relief spread through you like a warm cup of tea on a cold day. Everything would be okay. This was Deacy and Ronnie and Roadie-John you were bringing to your home. This was Bri— this was your friend you were bringing to your home, not a stranger.

Strangers did not make you feel like this.

Approaching, you found the others close by, chatting and laughing and sharing bags of crisps. Deacy and Ronnie waved at you and John Harris grinned.

Brian looked up when you neared him, and he flashed you a bright little smile, which you couldn’t help but return— his cheeks were rosy and his eyes crinkled, and you would have died for that smile.

Then he raised his Polaroid camera in your direction and clicked the button.

“Brian!” you exclaimed, knowing that there was no way that photo could have turned out well. “Why’d you do that?”

He pulled the photograph from where the camera was spitting it out, shaking it lightly and letting the camera strap hold the camera for him as he shielded his face from the sun with his other hand.

“Candid,” he said happily. “First of many.”

“Not on my watch,” you narrowed your eyes. “Let me see.” You snatched for the photo, but tall and long-limbed as he was, Brian simply extended his arm above his head and held the Polaroid out of your grasp.

His smile was amused when you glared at him for his betrayal, but you weren’t about to give up. You jumped and reached, but he stepped sidelong and shook his head.

“No. You’ll never let me keep it,” he said, sticking out his bottom lip in a rather petulant pout.

At the idea of him keeping a photograph of you— why? did he think of you?— a tingle ran down your sides, but you quelled all straying thoughts when you remembered that you probably looked terrible in said photograph.

“Bri,” you crossed your arms obstinately, “it’s mine. Give it to me, please.”

He continued to pout, but then sighed. “Fine.” he said, lowering his hand and holding the photograph out to you. You took it slowly, cautious not to let your fingers brush his. “But really, don’t throw it away. You look lovely.”

Before you could hide the blush that rose to your cheeks at his remark, he winked, and turning away, he called out for the other three to smile!, taking the picture before anyone could react.

You pushed your sunglasses up onto your head and squinted at the Polaroid picture in the sunshine.

Your gaze had been directed upwards, toward Brian, your chin was lifted in a manner that looked almost proud, or in the very least confident. Your sunglasses had briefly slipped down your nose at the moment the picture had been taken, and so your eyes could be seen, bright and animated in the warm light of the sunny afternoon, and the hair was blown away from your face— sunlight emphasised the dips and planes of your features. You’d worn a sundress because the weather was for once for it, and it had rustled in the wind, sweeping around your legs; you were painted in elegance.

Brian was right.

You looked lovely.

But perhaps the craftsmanship of the photo played a part as well. Despite being a hastily-snapped candid, the photo was framed perfectly, and the light that illuminated your figure was well-contrasted. It was art, in yet another form; Brian seemed inherently capable of creating art in any and every moment. And he certainly knew how to pick his moments. In photography, at least.

“Y/N!” John called to you, and all the others turned to you expectantly. “Train’s here.”

Sure enough, the clock hanging above the platform matched the departure time printed on your ticket. You hurried over with your bags, which was quite a feat, given you had your messenger bag, your guitar in its case— Brian had encouraged you to bring it— and your suitcase. The others were equally badly off— Deacy carrying his bass, Brian with not one but two guitars, Roadie-John with packed-up amplifiers and cords, and everyone carrying suitcases. Deacy in particular looked strained, having insisted upon carrying some of his wife’s things so that her load would be lessened, but subsequently, his own was significantly worsened. You made quite the group.

You caught up with the others and with a few quick hello’s the five of you shuffled alongside the rest of the crowd toward the train carriages.

Brian was at your side and nudged your elbow. “Guitar looks heavy,” he said.

“Mmm…” you murmured. “Some idiot suggested I bring it along.”

He chuckled warmly, and despite the sunny weather, you longed to move closer to his warmth. “I’d offer to carry it for you, but I’m rather decked out myself.”

You sniffed. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

Just then, a man in a time-worn jacket jostled you, and you stumbled.

“Excuse me,” you muttered. But the man continued to try to push past you, past anyone who stood in his way.

You glanced over at Brian to roll your eyes at the man’s behaviour, but Brian’s face had taken on a peculiarly pinched look. He looked angry.

“Oi, mate,” Brian raised his voice slightly. The man didn’t react. “Hey,” Brian said when you got shoved for the third time. He stepped forward. “Hey, watch it!”

The man whirled around with an equally angry expression, but Brian was taller, and he made that fact quite obvious, leaning down and glowering at the other man. Shoulders stiff and eyes dark, though he had no hands free with which to defend himself should the situation take a violent turn, Brian glared with such scorn at the man who’d run into you that anyone would’ve rightly wilted beneath his gaze.

“Bri,” you said, hoisting your guitar onto your back, “let it go.” Brian didn’t move, though the other man bared his teeth. He stared past you like you didn’t exist. Then the rugged man spat on Brian’s clogs, and Brian lurched forward in fury, his bag and cases landing on the ground.

You were quick to step between the two men, placing your palm firmly against Brian’s chest. That caught his attention— his heartbeat quickened beneath your splayed fingers.

“Let it go,” you repeated.

Brian’s eyes flickered, then met yours. You stared down his intensity, unwilling to back down, though your lungs and their rapid intake of breath were inclined to disagree.

His eyes were melted toffee, and beneath them, you could have melted as well. But then Brian inhaled carefully, and with a gentle touch, pried your fingers off of his chest.

He nodded to you in promise to not antagonise the other man any further, then let go of your hand.

You would have intertwined your fingers with his and held them there, if the crowd hadn’t begun moving again.

And if you’d had the courage.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The train sprinted along the tracks from Waterloo to Epsom, and the journey passed quickly. Your arrival in Surrey was perfectly on time, and this day, the weather in your home county was no less pretty than that of London.

From Epsom Station to Ridge Farm was another half-hour or so, but luckily, your dad owned a minibus and was waiting at the station to pick you and the others up.

“Y/N!” your dad called when he saw you.

“Dad!” you rushed forward and dropped your bags, flinging your arms around him. You hadn’t seen him for months, and had spoken to him only every few weeks; you weren’t going to be embarrassed for being happy to see your dad.

“Missed you, love,” he squeezed you tightly.

“Missed you too.”

Then you stepped back so as to introduce the others.

“So we’ve got exactly half of the band here, and the other half I think we’ll intercept on the way home,” you said. “This is John Deacon, bassist and vocalist—”

John laughed. “No no, I can’t sing, Y/N. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Andrews,” he shook hands with your dad. “This is my beautiful wife Veronica,” he beamed upon introducing her. The two of them were so in love, it was ridiculous.

“Hi!” Ronnie said, hardly taking her big eyes off of Deacy.

“Hello there,” your dad greeted them.

“And this is our second John, who crews and just generally is a great help,” you said as Roadie-John strode forward.

“John Harris. But everyone just calls me Roadie-John, to sorta prevent confusion with Deacy over there,” he jabbed his thumb in Deacy’s direction, and your dad laughed amicably.

“So they call you Deacy, then?” he asked John, John Deacon.

“Yeah, or Deacs, or something like that. Seems to have stuck.”

Your dad laughed again, and you smiled, pleased. It seemed he and Deacy would get along well.

Then Brian caught your eye timidly. He looked a bit lost, like meeting new people wasn’t his strong suit. It probably wasn’t— Brian very much conformed to the initially-shy-and-awkward stereotype of an astrophysicist.

“Oh dear, sorry Bri,” you apologised. “Dad, this is Brian.”

“Hello,” Brian said, extending his hand. Your dad shook it.

“So what do you play, Brian…”

“Brian May, Mr. Andrews.”

“Brian May. What do you play then, Brian May?”

“Oh, I play guitar.”

“Any good?” your dad inquired.

“I—”

“Very good,” you interrupted. “He’s actually been helping me to learn to play,” you said, pride in your voice.

“Has he really?” your dad muttered in an odd tone. “My Y/N’s been having quite the trouble learning.”

“Dad…”

“Really? She’s a natural!” Brian smiled disarmingly, but your dad’s expression was set.

“We’ll see,” your dad responded, and you thought he looked rather standoffish. Brian’s shoulders seemed to droop.

You frowned.

“Uh, sha’ we get going, then?” Roadie-John stepped in.

“Yep, yeah, sounds good!” you patted your dad’s shoulder and he made a noise of agreement. He took your bag for you, and took one from Ronnie as well.

“Thank you. Those things are heavy,” she said.

“I’m not actually a rotten husband,” Deacy added, “I’ve just already got my hands full.”

“No one thinks you’re a rotten husband,” Ronnie pulled her arm around Deacy’s waist and leaned her head on his shoulder as you all followed your dad toward parking.

“Well thank goodness for that,” Deacy responded, and Veronica brushed his hair away from his face.

You were so distracted by how Deacy and Ronnie looked at each other, with such unyielding affection and warmth, that you didn’t notice Brian until he was next to you, the sleeve of his cream-coloured jacket brushing your hand.

“Hey,” he murmured, and you slowed your pace, guessing correctly that he wanted to talk apart from the others.

“Hey,” you said back. “What’s up?”

“Um… I don’t… I don’t think…” He stopped, then tried again. “What did I say wrong?” His eyes were soft and pitiful, and he looked so genuinely crushed that you almost threw your arms around him. “To your dad,” he continued. “I think I said something wrong.”

“Brian, what could you possibly have said wrong?”

His curls bobbed as he shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t think your dad’s pleased with me, all the same.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” you said. “He gets like that sometimes, when I introduce my friends. He’s a bit protective of me, I think.”

Brian bit his lip and made no response.

“Cheer up, Bri,” you nudged his side. “You can’t possibly look so sad when you get to spend an entire summer with me.”

“Half. Half a summer,” he corrected you. “D’you think I’ll last that long?”

His grin was brazen and his tongue poked out between his teeth.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re on thin ice, Brian May.”

He only went on smiling.

And you’ll surely melt the rest with that sunny smile of yours.

But no, you had it wrong. He would not melt the ice. He would melt you.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The car ride from the station to your home was mostly uneventful, but as you’d predicted, Deacy and your dad got on like a house on fire. Your dad had studied electrical engineering, which John was studying now, and he played many instruments, including bass guitar. The two were currently occupied discussing electric pianos, and the one that your dad owned, which Deacy now wanted to learn to play.

Veronica and Roadie-John spent the journey playing weird road trip games, half of which you’d never even heard of. You resolved they’d made a few of them up on the spot.

You’d stared out the window, watching the landmarks of your childhood pass you by, pointing out a few of them to Brian who sat beside you. He appeared very interested in it all, to understand where it was you’d grown up, and he asked a multitude of questions concerning your school, an ice cream parlour you’d frequented ever since you were little, and finally, about the lush woods that surrounded the wealth of land that was Ridge Farm. You were happy to answer his questions, and to ask your own of him. He told many stories, and he told them well, upon one occasion eliciting so much laughter from you that your dad raised his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror.

When the minibus finally rolled up the drive to the main house, your mum stood waving, and your family’s dog, Selkie, bounded back and forth with his tail wagging madly.

Then, Roger’s shiny red Alfa Romeo pulled up beside the minibus, just as you were getting out. Music was blaring, and everyone’s hair was thoroughly windblown.

“Did you even remember sunscreen?” Brian called to the passengers, pulling his guitars from the boot of the minibus.

“Nice to see you too, Bri,” Roger responded, giving Heather a hand out of the car.

“No,” said Mary, trying in vain to comb her hair into some semblance of a ponytail, “we definitely forgot sunscreen.” Gingerly, she touched a finger to the tip of her nose, which was looking rather pink, and winced. “Definitely forgot,” she muttered.

“You’re all pasty-pale,” Freddie laughed, fixing his hair.

“Well,” Crystal returned, “aren’t you lucky, Fred?”

“To be honest,” Heather was swaying slightly on the spot, “I’m not feeling too great. You drive too fast for me, I think, Roger.”

He kissed her cheek. “‘Course I don’t! Have a glass of water and you’ll be perfectly lovely again.”

Heather whacked his arm. “Cheeky.”

Your mum approached the scene, smiling with amusement at the various interactions going on around her.

“Mum!” you said, hugging her tightly. “You’re not at the pub?” Your mum ran the local pub— The Plough— and could thus be found there quite often.

“Hello my darling,” she kissed your cheek. “No, I got your brother to cover for me. It’s good to see you.” She pulled back from the embrace and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You don’t call nearly often enough.”

“Sorry,” you winced, crouching down to scratch Selkie behind his big, floppy ears as the golden retriever panted happily, having run to you upon seeing you.

“You’re here now, so no need to be sorry!” She smiled her bright smile, the one that never failed to cheer you up, to comfort you, and you knew that she meant what she said. Your mum always meant what she said. It was both a blessing and a curse.

A whirlwind of introductions followed, and apologies too, because your mum worried she’d forget the names of nine new people as quickly as she’d been told them. Of course, no one minded; there would be plenty of time for everyone to get to know each other. Six weeks, to be exact.

Then there was the matter of accommodation. Your parents had yielded the main house to you all, preferring themselves to retreat to the smaller building farther up on the farm. Frank had his granny flat down the path from the main drive, so that left you, the band, their partners, and the roadies divided amongst six bedrooms.

You had your childhood bedroom, Freddie and Mary took a room, Roger and Heather took another, Deacy and Veronica a third. Meanwhile, Brian, Roadie-John, and Crystal drew straws to see who would be sharing and who would get their own room. In the end, Roadie-John and Crystal drew the shorter two straws and ended up in the bunk-beds of the room that your two brothers Frank and Billy had once shared. Brian had looked much relieved by this turn-out, because, as he told you— “My legs wouldn’t have fit on that bed!”

“Well, good you got the room to yourself,” you’d responded. “Though, you could easily have guilted me into giving up my bed to you.”

Brian had laughed, rather nervously. A blush rose to your face when you’d realised how your remark must have sounded. Deacy had then made the incident twenty times worse by turning to you and saying “Y/N, was that an innuendo? I’m proud of you!”

This had resulted in further blushing on your part, and in Brian stuttering out some weak-reasoned excuse about going to unpack.

“What’s his problem?” Crystal had asked, and Freddie had snorted.

“Think for a second, Chris,” Roadie-John had cuffed the back of his mate’s neck.

“Yeah thanks John, that’s going to help me think, you idiot.”

“You don’t need to think, Crystal,” Roger had shaken his head. “It’s pretty bloody obvious.”

“If it’s so bloody obvious, Rog,” you’d interrupted, crossing your arms, “then would you mind pointing it out to me?”

“Oh, darling,” Mary had said to you, almost pityingly, while Roger had laughed.

“No, Y/N, Roger sha’n’t tell you, and nor shall anybody else,” Freddie had put it plainly. “You’ll be blind a while yet.”

And with that cryptic comment, he had wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulders and dragged the others with him to explore the house and grounds.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

When the sky turned orange and all the land below it golden, your dad had tea ready. He loved to cook and had thus created a masterpiece of salads, grilled vegetables, barbecue, homemade bread, and a variety of dips.

Summer was finally setting in, and so, even in the glow of the six o’clock evening, the sun would not set for at least another three hours.

You and the others had spent the afternoon unpacking, and setting up instruments in the studio. You’d managed to keep everyone’s attention for long enough to show them around said studio, but then Freddie had insisted on more “exploring”, and the others had followed excitedly. You’d offered to give them a tour, but Freddie argued that exploring was more fun, and everyone had agreed wholeheartedly. Except Brian. He’d been lost in his thoughts, sitting in a corner, tuning his guitar as though he intended to begin a songwriting session then and there.

Heather had then tried, and failed, to convince you to join in the exploration. Failed on account that you needed an hour or two to yourself— hanging around nine people, plus your family, was really quite draining. And when you’d looked about the sunlit studio fondly before leaving it for your own room, Brian was nowhere to be found.

When teatime rolled around, you had not seen him for several hours, and he remained elusive even as your mum, your dad, the others, and even your brother Frank who’d slept the day away, gathered in the dining room.

“Oh, this looks delicious,” said Roger enthusiastically, eyeing the food piled up on the table.

Murmurs of agreement echoed all around, but your dad frowned. “Where’s that Brian May got to?”

“Sebastian,” your mum chided. “It’s been less than two minutes since you called us all in. He’s probably just upstairs or something.” Your mum turned to you. “Y/N, would you go look? I’ve just got to let Selkie out.”

“Yep, sure.”

You left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs, smilingly taking two at a time, now that your legs were long enough. You’d always tried to take them two at a time when you’d been little, but you’d never managed more than one set at a time before falling over your own feet.

It was quickly obvious that there was no one upstairs.

Poking your head into the kitchen, you announced, “He’s not upstairs, but I’ll just check outside. You might as well start.” Your dad looked to your mum for approval, and she shrugged.

“Bon appetit, then,” he said.

You slipped on some canvas shoes and jogged down the main path and to the end of the drive, where you stopped.

“Where’ve you gone, Bri?”

Your eyes fell to the green by the path, where tufts of grass had been pressed down in the memory of footprints. Beyond the grass, there was mud, and there too were footprints. And they really were footprints— the person who had made them did not seem to have been wearing any shoes. You set off following the trail.

Down the hill, skirting a meadow, and through the sand by the bank of the river, you stepped with your shoes into the footsteps that had been left.

Finally, you caught sight of the owner of the footprints.

He stood knee-deep in the river, his back to you and his face turned to the canopy of the trees about him.

Birds streaked across the sky above, merely silhouettes against the bright colours of the sky, and the air glittered as ordinary dust turned to stardust in the golden light of the sun.

The river babbled in an almost talkative manner, greeting you— hellohello slosh rush hellohello— and the creatures in the wood had realised your presence, pausing in their activities no matter how careful you made your footing upon the ground. Brian had not realised anything.

A thrush knocked a seedpod against the base of a tree, and other birds twittered merrily in the branches above. The trees whispered their secrets, rustling and passing their leaves along one another’s boughs like notes, and the grass shone in glory green, dotted white flowers conjuring an aura of magic.

You crept along the edge of the clearing by the river, careful not to let Brian notice you. You wanted to notice him first.

His face was expressive— his parted lips, the soft line of his chin in contrast to the sharpness of his wide hazel eyes. His hands hovered by his sides, slim fingers and wrists, the already lightly-tanned skin of his arms showing where he had pushed up his sleeves. His curls were tossed by the breeze and he stared up to the sky with reckless abandon, as though his entire existence hung upon the breath of starlight that would steal across the sky this night and every night after, as though he would give up anything, everything, to be a star as well.

And you understood that he would, because you would too. Without thought, without a single hesitation. Oh, to be a star.

Brian spun around, the water protesting with splashes about his calves, his shoulders tensed and his eyes now wider than ever.

Oh, you’d said that out loud.

“Y/N,” he said, relaxing almost instantly as he recognised you through the rays of sun that streaked across the clearing. “Yes, I’d like to be a star. What a vantage point that would be. I wonder what I might see differently from up there.”

“Everything,” you said. “You’d see everything differently.” You stared up at the sky, the waning crescent of the moon faintly visible in the glow of evening. But Brian was still looking at you; you could feel it. Your skin prickled.

“Would you come with me?” he asked. When you returned your gaze to him, his smile was gentle.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t need me out there, Spaceman. You know it so well.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but it’s lonely out in space.”

You shook your head. “You’d be a star. You wouldn’t think of loneliness. You wouldn’t think at all.”

“Well, while I still have my thoughts, I think that would be preferable to have someone there with me.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. In an instant you realised that you had been wrong; you didn’t want to be a star, you wanted to feel how starlight looked— ethereal and inspiring, yet powerful. And the closest you’d ever been to feeling how starlight looked was when Brian looked at you.

“You’d give it all up?” you said, and still he gazed at you.“Really you would?”

He hesitated, then said, “Some days, yes. Others, no.”

“Today?” you asked.

There was that gentle smile again. “No,” he exhaled softly, as though he had been holding his breath. “Not today.”

You smiled. “Then hurry up and come back inside. Tea’s waiting, and my dad’s an excellent cook. If you want to get on his good side, then compliment his food.”

“Do you think it’s still possible for me to get on his good side?” Brian began to wade back to the riverbank. “He seemed rather to have made up his mind, this afternoon.”

You held out your hand to Brian as he approached, planting your feet firmly in the sand. “Careful. The rocks are slippery,” you told him. “And no, I think there’s still hope. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“Oh, he’s not bad, it’s just—” Brian had not heeded your warning and pitched forward. You grasped his hand just before he fell, and he smiled at you gratefully. His fingers were warm where they curled around your own. “It’s just me. I don’t think he likes me.”

“Brian,” you guided him around a particularly mossy rock, “why on Earth does this bother you so much? I’ve never heard you talk like this,” you said honestly.

He finally made it to the riverbank, and the sand dusted his toes, his cuffed trousers dripping water, soaked through because he hadn’t folded them up far enough. “Clearly, you haven’t spent enough time with me. Not to worry, though. Soon to be remedied.”

“Brian.”

He huffed. “Because it’s you, Y/N,” he said, and your heart rose to your throat. “I don’t usually care who doesn’t like me, but they’re your family and you’re my friend.”

Your heart sank.

Once, your insides had warmed when he’d called you his friend, but now things were different. You wanted more from him than just that, and you could admit as much to yourself, even if you couldn’t admit it to anybody else.

But his hand still rested in yours.

Take what you can get. It’s all you’ll ever have.

Your hand curled more tightly around his long, dainty fingers.

He glanced at you, and you realised that you had not said anything for a while. You’d been walking through the wood for minutes and you had not spoken a word, only held his hand, as though you had a right to. You didn’t though, did you?

You pulled your hand from his, and it felt like a severance when he let go.

“Shoes,” you murmured.

“Sorry?”

“You’re not wearing any shoes,” you laughed at the silliness of it.

He looked down at his bare feet and laughed too. “No, I’m not.”

“Why on Earth not?”

“Why on Earth should I?”

“Why not on Earth should you not?”

“Why not on Earth should I not not wear shoes?”

You stopped walking. “You’re absurd.”

He grinned. “And you’re an angel.”

“Oh, so I’m that far gone, am I?”

“Not as far as me.”

“It’s lonely out in space,” you repeated his words from earlier.

“You know,” Brian began as the two of you crested the final hill that led up to the house. “Think I’ll stay around.”

The breeze rustled his curls, and his eyes were bright, his profile illuminated by the sun. A small smile rested on the curve of his lips, and you couldn’t believe that he was real.

You were breathless; he took your breath away.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Tea was not the awkward affair you had expected, with your dad and Brian skirting around each other. It was instead talkative and homely, like the nine extra people at your table had always been a part of your family. It was a shame your brother Billy had decided to stay abroad with his mates this summer; he would have loved all this.

The table itself was taking the meal quite well— it held up, despite the great amount of food and plates and cutlery and glasses and bowls and napkins and trays piled atop its oakwood surface.

It was quite an arrangement, thirteen people around the same dining table, and chairs had been fetched from all over the house, from stools to desk chairs. Perhaps the feeling of closeness amongst you all had been achieved through literal closeness, seeing as the dining table was not meant for more than eight people, and certainly not for thirteen. Knees and elbows knocked, and you had the fortune to be seated next to Bri, whose hand or thigh bumped yours quite often as he reached for something or picked up his knife and fork. He apologised frequently, and every time he apologised and you assured him that it was fine, your stares grew longer and his eyes grew softer.

You could have gazed at him forever. And spoken to him forever, too.

The occupants of the table both roared with laughter and listened attentively as stories both utterly silly and quite serious were shared. There were tales from childhood; tales of Queen from before your time, when they were known as Smile; tales you already knew; tales you had experienced as they had happened, including the recent story of how Roger had plotted and executed his master plan of locking you and Brian in the kitchen. You laughed harder than anyone at that story, because in hindsight, it just seemed so silly, so ridiculous, how angry you and Brian had both been, not at each other, but at being locked into the kitchen with one another. Brian had been sure to describe— in detail— the look on your face when you’d realised that Roger, John, and Freddie had left you in the kitchen, to your own devices.

Your face ached from smiling, and your stomach hurt from laughing, and it was the best pain in the entire world. You wanted to feel like this forever, both young and old at once, young in spirit but wisened by nostalgia and an already great wealth of memories.

And with every glance you stole at Brian, to gauge his reaction to a particular story, or indeed, to nothing in particular at all, you were closer to reaching over and taking his hand in yours again, sliding your hand over the smooth skin of his wrist and palm, and along his slim fingers.

But you didn’t do it. His hands were not yours to hold.

When tea was finished, yawns began to make appearances between words, because it was good and well eleven o’clock at night. You all helped to clear the table and stow leftovers into the fridge, the chatter never ceasing as you communed between the dining room and kitchen. Your dad even broke into song at one point— he’d probably had a little too much to drink— and Roger joined in without hesitation, which led to Heather’s participation, and Ronnie’s, and Deacy’s, and yours, until the entire house was filled with the melodic tune of thirteen people singing ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’. Your dad swung your mum around the kitchen and she laughed as they danced, and you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had been so carefree. Something about the dynamic of the people around you was extraordinary, and irreplaceable.

It was midnight when you had bid your parents, Frank, and the members of your entourage that had the downstairs bedrooms— Freddie and Mary, Roger and Heather, Ronnie and Deacy— a good night.

Upstairs you trudged alongside Roadie-John, Crystal, and Brian, the former two of whom were arguing about who was to sleep in the top bunk, and who was to sleep in the lower bunk.

At the top of the stairs, Crystal and Roadie-John departed to the left.

“Night,” they chorused, and you and Brian responded in kind.

You made for the last set of stairs that led to your attic bedroom, which you’d always favoured because of its view to the open sky, but you stopped on the first step. You had remembered the polaroid Brian had taken of you, and it burned through your pocket.

You turned back.

“Brian—”

“Yes?”

He had turned back too. Eurydice and Orpheus. If they had both been obligated not to turn back. And had turned back all the same.

The words left your lips in a breathless rush, “Your photograph.”

“My photograph?” he wondered aloud.

You descended the step you’d climbed and walked toward him. His eyes trailed you, and your skin felt warm beneath his gaze.

You held the polaroid out to him, and it felt as though you were handing him your soul. “Have it.”

He blinked at you. “But I thought—”

“You thought I hated it? Yeah, I thought so too. But it’s art. Just like everything else you do. And it belongs to you.”

His lips parted and the world was suspended in that moment.

He took the photograph from your hand, but he barely looked at it. He was looking at you— like he was going to do something.

But of course he wouldn’t. You and your overactive imagination.

“Good night, Bri,” you whispered, and swept up the stairs.

There was no reply.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: the sheer amount of love i have received on this fic is just mind-boggling, not to mention incredibly touching. thank you <3

taglist: @melting-obelisks @stardust-killer-queen @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair

Masterpost / Part 9 / Part 11

#tina's writing #starstruck #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may x y/n #brian may x you #queen #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #queen fanfiction #1975 #1970s #fic

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bard-llama · 5 years

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The Witcher Fic Masterlist

Masterlist of all of my Witcher fics, updated as of June 5, 2021.

If you like my writing, consider donating to my ko-fi! I am writing gift fics for all donors.

Here is a masterlist of all completed multi-chapter fics.

Series:

Families of Choice

Geraskefer Canon Divergent AU

Summary: The best families are those you choose. Jaskier realized that early in life, but his family continues to expand over the years.

Series Masterlist

Cintra Happily Ever After Series:

AU from the Families of Choice Series (as of the end of 5 Dinners with the Lioness chapter 5)

Summary: A series in which I pretend everything is fine and nobody dies, and Geralt makes Cintra his home base after the feast in episode 4.

Series Masterlist

Chronic Pain Series

Summary: Unconnected shorts in which I vent my pain onto fictional characters.

At Her Back

Summary: Yennefer was born with a twisted spine. Her transformation had cured her, but she still felt the pain as if nothing had changed. Geralt offers Jaskier's services as a masseuse.

Coming to a Head

Summary: During a confrontation gone wrong, Jaskier gets hit with a spell that is supposed to cause unimaginable pain. So why does Jaskier seems mostly unaffected?

When Pigs Talk

Summary: When seeking pain relief, Yennefer takes something that makes the pigs in her pig pen start talking. It’s the start of an interesting evening.

Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep

Rated E

Summary: Geralt’s eyes burn and ache like he’s undergoing the trials again, so Jaskier does his best to help distract from the pain.

Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria

Iorveth/Roche Witcher 2 Different First Meeting AU

Summary: A Witcher 2 Canon AU in which Iorveth and Roche meet before either of them know who the other is. Somehow, this changes absolutely everything.

Series Masterlist

Fish Out of Water

Iorveth/Roche MerMay AU

Summary: Once upon a time, all elves lived in the sea and had mer forms. Now, Iorveth is something of a novelty, one of the last true elves.

Series Masterlist

For You, My Love, I Bleed

Iorveth/Roche angsty AU

Summary: Iorveth and Roche had been happy, or so Iorveth had thought. Then King Foltest recalls Roche to the capital, and suddenly Iorveth is left alone as Roche returns to Foltest. Roche made his choice, clearly, and Iorveth just has to deal with that. But all is not as it seems, and Roche considers everything worth sacrificing if it protects the man he loves.

Series Masterlist

A Hard Day’s Night

Iorveth/Roche interrogation AU

Summary: Iorveth ends up imprisoned, with Vernon Roche as his interrogator. From there it only gets worse - or better, depending on your point of view.

Series Masterlist

If You’re Good to Mama

Iorveth/Roche Outsider POV

Summary: The Clarabelle is the finest brothel in town and its located in the shittiest part of town. Follow the adventures of the Madame, Eliza, and the brothel workers as they start working to supply food to the terrorist elves in the Scoia'tael.

Series Masterlist

Keep Me

Iorveth/Roche fanart AU

Summary: All Vernon Roche wants in life is someone to keep him and appreciate him. Surprisingly, he may find exactly that - in the form of his enemy, no less. Based on this art.

Series Masterlist

King and Country

Iorveth/Roche divergent AU

Summary: When Foltest rejects Vernon Roche, he sets into motion a series of events that have consequences he never could've expected. A universe in which Roche's anger and hurt at Foltest remove the rose colored glasses.

Series Masterlist (NEW ADDITIONS!)

Love Shack

Iorveth/Roche Secret Relationship AU

Summary: The Love Shack: a ramshackle cabin in the forest that happens to be Iorveth and Roche's only respite from a reality full of violence, war, and hate. In the Love Shack, all that matters is each other.

Series Masterlist

The Lovestruck Fox

Iorveth/Roche Schoolgirl Crush AU

Summary: It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that the Scoia’tael Commander holds his opposite in the highest esteem.

Series Masterlist

Petals and Stripes

Iorveth/Roche Hanahaki AU

Summary: Those that felt the deepest of deep loves could develop a condition known as the wasting disease. Those afflicted slowly suffocate as their lungs fill with fruit representing the one they love. Well, it's supposed to be fruit. So why is Commander Roche coughing up flowers?

Series Masterlist

With A Look I May Not Meet

Iorveth/Roche capture AU

Summary: When Iorveth is captured using his relationship with Vernon Roche, Roche is forced to make a decision. Stand with King Foltest and Temeria as he has always done - or choose Iorveth and go on the run.

Series Masterlist

The Woodland Fox and The Temerian Hound

Iorveth/Roche animal transformation AU

Summary: Roche usually didn’t mind Triss’s magic much. Sure, she poked at him with it all the time, but it was always playful, inviting him in on the fun. This time, however, something had gone very, very wrong and he was quite sure that it would take him a long time to trust her magic again. Because somehow a rebound spell had hit him, and now he had a tail. A dog’s tail. Well, he was always getting called Foltest’s attack dog. Now it was just a bit more literal.

Series Masterlist

Under the cut:

New! Gen fics (22)

Yennefer fics (4)

Geraskier/Geraskefer fics (25)

Geralt getting railed fics (4)

Cintra fics (Calanthe/Eist and others) (9)

Lambert/Aiden fics (6)

Lambert/Jaskier fic (1)

Wolf Witcher fics (2)

New! Iorveth/Roche fics (45)

New! Saskia fics (3)

Gen Fics:

(They came after me) With Masterful Deceit

Summary: When Jaskier discovers that Yennefer has Elven blood, he is forced to confront his prejudices.

Beauty and Imperfections

Summary: Jaskier signs up to be a nude model. He's expecting it to be a fun, sexy time. It goes a lot differently than he expected.

The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb

Summary: Found Family prompt fills, focusing mostly on Iorveth and Roche. Chapter 1: Geralt invited all of his family to join him in Corvo Bianco, which is great, but has the downside that finding a moment alone is near impossible.

Cards Out For Your Country

WiP

Summary: In which a great number of people are convinced or coerced into posing for a Gwent Pinup Calendar.

Greg the Demon Horse

Summary: Jaskier tries to make a stuffed toy for Ciri. If only he knew how to sew properly.

Gwent, The Good Old Game (NEW!)

WiP

Summary: Zoltan, Dandelion, and Priscilla decide to go all in on a new money-making scheme involving gwent. This time, they are going to sell stories and dolls of the characters that appear on gwent cards. It's guaranteed to make a killing.

History is Written by the Victors

Summary: “Dara said grandmother’s men laughed as they raped women and killed babies by - by swinging them by their legs, bashing their heads in.” Fuck. Tentatively, Jaskier wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug when she didn’t flinch away. In his head, he could hear Filavandrel’s voice, the humans proudly watch these very fields grow... our babies fertilizer for their grain. He swallowed against rising bile. Against his neck, he could feel Ciri finally succumb to tears. “How could grandmother order that? I know her, that wasn’t what she was like! But Dara wouldn’t have lied.”

Wherein our characters struggle with knowing that good people can do awful things, and that everything you think you know is probably wrong.

How to Train Your Roach

Summary: The story of how Jaskier's stupid ditties on the road accidentally trained Roach.

Inspired by Her Fire

Warning: Spoilers for Witcher 2, specifically something from the end of Iorveth’s Path.

Summary: Saskia's POV during the Council Meeting where Saskia introduces Iorveth.

It’s the Little Things

Summary: A collection of fills for various prompts! Chapter 1: “You. Rest. Now.”

jaws that crack the bones the lion leaves

Summary: Jaskier writes a song about the Slaughter of Cintra.

Life is a Cabaret

Witcher 3 Canon/Spoilers

Summary: Set during the Cabaret quest, after Geralt helps Dandelion with his staged fight, he decides that Dandelion's big comfy bed at the Rosemary & Thyme is perfect for a bit of rest. Dandelion doesn't exactly mind.

The Lion That Haunts My Dreams

Rated M

Summary: Calanthe does what is needed to protect her kingdom. Dara just wants to forget. Two perspectives on a genocide.

Marilka

Summary: Geralt knew he couldn’t claim his Child of Surprise. Destiny had punished him harshly the one time he’d thought about raising a child. He could not risk its wrath again.

Power

Summary: Yennefer had been forced to fight for every bit of power she had. So why does the power to make people see her seem so unattainable? An introspective look at Yenn during the Dragon Hunt (but ignoring the break up because I can)

Sentenced to Write

Summary: A collection of fics from 1 sentence prompts. Chapter One: Thief!Ciri Chapter Two: Kid!Calanthe

Soft Words and Kind Hearts

Summary: A collection of fills for Geralt Fluff Week 2020. Day 1: First times. Geralt gets a tattoo and becomes part of the Blue Stripes Commandos

Sweat and Blood and Tears: A Geralt Whump Collection

Summary: Collected shorts for Geralt Whump Week

What Makes a Family

Summary: Ciri spends her first birthday since the Fall of Cintra at Kaer Morhen.

What You Meme to Me

Summary: A collection of Witcher fics inspired by memes. Just because. Second chapter: Jaskier doesn't understand why people are so obsessed with gender. Why would what's in their pants matter?

The White Wolf

Summary: Geralt always gets named the White Wolf in fight clubs, even before Jaskier gave him the name. Sometimes he even hid his medallion and gave a fake name, and still, he was always called the White Wolf.

Your Voice is Your Life

Summary: “Your voice is your life.” His old teacher used to tell him. Jaskier largely disagreed, but then a djinn steals his voice. Bottled Appetites from Jaskier's point of view

Yennefer Fics

To Be...

Summary: Collection of shorts for Yennefer Appreciation Week on Tumblr!

A Tribute to the Fae

Rated E

Summary: When Yennefer accidentally trespasses on fae land, she must pay the price.

Viscount Pankratz and Wife

WiP

Summary: When Jaskier receives an invitation to a fancy party addressed to him and his wife, he decided he deserved a night of fun causing problems for people. Who better to help than Yennefer of Vengerberg?

Yenn & Djinn

WiP

Summary: Bottled Appetites AU Jaskier’s last wish is for Geralt to appear. This manages to change everything.

Geraskier/Geraskefer Fics:

(I would not wish) Any Companion But You

Summary: I’m not your friend, Geralt always insists whenever Jaskier calls them such.

100 Ways to Love You

Rated E

Summary: A drabble collection for Witcher OT3 sex Okay, it might be more double drabbles than drabbles, but shhh

Awaken in Pleasure

Rated E

Summary: Geralt dreams of having Jaskier waking him up with sex. He finally manages to ask for it.

Bounce a Coin Off Your Witcher

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier has lots of thoughts about Geralt's arse in leather pants. And then they get stuck in a small room together.

Butter That Biscuit

Rated E

Summary: Bottled Appetites Ep 5 AU – When Jaskier awakes in Yennefer’s room, he does, in fact, butter that biscuit.

Five Almost Kisses and One Happily Ever After

WiP

Rated E

Summary: What it says on the tin. Geralt knows he wants Jaskier, but why would the bard ever be interested in a witcher? Five times Geralt ALMOST figures it out and one time he actually makes a move.

Five Times Geralt Frotted Against Jaskier’s Ass and One Time He Fucked It

Rated E

Summary: Based on this tumblr post about Geralt frotting against Jaskier's ass in his sleep.

Fulfilling a Need

Rated E

Summary: Geralt has been twitchy and restless lately. When Jaskier confronts him, he discovers that what Geralt needs is for Jaskier to take control and fuck his face. So he does.

Gestures of Affection

Rated M

Summary: A collection of shorts featuring any configuration of the relationship between Geralt, Jaskier, and Yennefer and the ways they show affection to each other. With bonus Ciri, because she’s their family.

Hit Me Baby (One More Time)

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier desperately wants physical evidence of Geralt’s love for him.

How to Spoil Your Pet

Rated E

Summary: Yennefer and Jaskier team up to give Geralt everything he wants. He wants a lot. Good thing they're amenable.

Howling Swirling Storm

Summary: Jaskier is a winter spirit who has always been shit at hiding his powers. But somehow Geralt still never figured it out?

Jaskier’s Words are Horseshit

Summary: The thing about Jaskier is, he never shuts up. Literally, ever. That was the first thing Geralt noticed about the bard, but he was not prepared for all that entailed. Jaskier was, quite literally, always making noise of some sort. If he wasn’t singing, he was humming, muttering, strumming at his lute. Even in his sleep, the bard hmm’d and sighed and mumbled and snored continuously.

A Kiss With a Lash

Rated E

Summary: Geralt asks Jaskier to punish him for the Break Up (TM)

Making Amends

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier is putting his life back together after the Mountain™. So what is he supposed to do when Geralt arrives at his doorstep?

Pamper Your Witcher

Rated E

Summary: Geralt doesn't let himself have the finer things in life. So Jaskier decides to pamper him.

That Wild Blue Yonder

Summary: Jaskier lives in the modern world as Julian Alfred Pancratz. When his family vacations at an old castle his cousin owns, he discovers an old wardrobe that leads to the Continent. Specifically, it leads to a wardrobe belonging to Madeline de Stael.

The Pleasure of a Good Bath

Rated E

Summary: Geralt had always enjoyed baths. Since Jaskier had joined him, they'd gotten even better - and it was making it difficult to hide that he wanted more.

Porny Prompt Pile

Rated E

Summary: Just porny fics based on prompts. First chapter: Geraskier - blow job while standing Second chapter: Geraskier - Jaskier riles Geralt into rough sex

Relationships Require Communication

Summary: Jaskier liked to joke about him being allergic to the word ‘friends’, but he wasn’t far off. Geralt was aware that he was not good at talking, not good at feelings, and definitely not good about combining the two. After Yennefer and Jaskier leave him on the mountain, Geralt does some thinking about what happened and how exactly he messed up. And how to fix it.

Rushing Thoughts and Pulsing Hearts

Rated E

Summary: Geralt knew he was in love with Jaskier, but what could he do about it? No one believed Witchers could love. Not even him, sometimes.

So hold me, lover, like you used to

Rated E

Summary: When Geralt brings Cirilla to Oxenfurt to search for Jaskier, he was not expecting to walk into a concert the bard and another were giving together. Songfic based on The Amazing Devil.

When Words Act As Phantoms on Horseback

Summary: Jaskier gets Geralt used to the lack of silence. Without him, the silence creeps up on him and itches at his mind until he must break it. AKA how Netflix!Geralt slowly becomes more like Game!Geralt.

With Knot But A Look

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier asks tamed werewolf!Geralt to fuck him in the forest under the full moon.

Worth 100 Words

Summary: This is a Witcher drabble collection, using prompts. Mostly OT3 and family fics with Ciri.

Geralt getting railed fics:

A Cintran Welcome

Rated E

Summary: Geralt’s Witcher stamina is too much for Jaskier to handle alone, but he wants Geralt to experience being fucked to exhaustion. So he arranges a gangbang in Cintra. Featuring Geralt’s self–loathing getting overwhelmed with pleasure.

Forest of Plenty

Rated E

Summary: Geralt goes to visit his friend Mousesack for some fun and discovers that Mousesack and Jaskier have already anticipated his arrival and prepared quite a surprise for him.

I’m Yours to Claim

Rated E

Summary: Geralt knew he would eventually agree to go to Cintra. It was Jaskier asking, after all. He hadn't expected to run into his old friend and fuckbuddy, Mousesack, but it was nice to see him again.

Size Matters: The Geralt Size Queen Chronicles

Rated E

Summary: Just porn about Geralt being a size queen.

Cintra Fics:

5 Gifts from Family, 1 Vision of the Future, and 1 New Start

Summary: Pavetta gets to know her family after the banquet.

Artistic Endeavors

Rated M

Summary: Calanthe discovers that her daughter has a habit of drawing rather explicit art. For the Banned Together Bingo prompt "Porn". Set before Episode 4: Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials

Falling Into the Lion’s Den

Rated E

Summary: Calanthe and Eist have slept together many times, but it was never about feelings. So why does Eist propose to her and insist on changing everything?

Her Mother’s Legacy

Summary: Ciri had always had trouble with schooling. So if Geralt wants to train her in monster lore, he's going to have to do some things for her. Featuring ways Pavetta helped Ciri figure out how to manage her ADHD.

Like a Punch to the Face

Summary: “Oh sweet Cintra, you were so promising, from your spoiled princess to your stupid old king! But when I arrived, the royals were dead! Tossed out a window or shot in the head!” Ciri forced herself to keep walking past the puppet show, feeling like a fist had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart.

The Lion in the Woods

Summary: Mousesack teaches Ciri about the importance of balance.

The Lioness and the Seahound

Rated E

Summary: A collection of Calanthe/Eist porn fics. Chapter One: Calanthe positions Eist so that she can ride him while giving the illusion that she was taking him. Eist loves it.

Mousesack’s Educational Retreat for Proper Young Nobles

WiP

Summary: 13 year old Calanthe gets sent to a “whip-your-heirs-into-shape” 6 weeks and she is not happy about it. She’s also not delighted by this kid Eist, who is determined to become her friend, and sharing her room with 2 other noblewomen was not fun. Featuring 13 year olds’ interpretations of cultures, some significant cultural misunderstandings, and some slow but sure developing friendships.

O war! Thou son of hell

Summary: In the aftermath of war, Calanthe waits to feel the way everyone said she was supposed to.

Lambert/Aiden Fics:

An Evening of Frippery

Rated E

Summary: When Lambert and Aiden get invited to a fancy party, it’s the perfect excuse to dress up, dance, and have some fun.

Fuck Me Properly (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Aiden stumbles upon Lambert getting fucked by a plant. With tentacles. Then his brain kind of shorts out.

One Way to Skin a Cat (NEW!)

Summary: A reflection on Aiden's thoughts in the aftermath of his near death, and a realization of what Lambert must be thinking.

pretty witcher (walking down the street)

Rated E

Summary: Lambert decides to finally make his move, dressing up in his prettiest dress to encourage Aiden to give in to temptation. Before he has a chance, though, bandits force them into an unexpected position.

Silk and Lace

Rated E

Summary: When Aiden and Lambert split up on the road to tackle separate contracts before meeting again, Lambert takes the opportunity to spoil himself with pretty clothes and slow, drawn out pleasure.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This (NEW!)

Rated M

Summary: Lambert wakes up when Aiden has a bad dream. Fortunately, he knows a good way to get Aiden's mind off of it.

Lambert/Jaskier Fics:

Desperate Affection

Rated E

Summary: Lambert didn't know when he'd fallen in love with the bard, but he could no longer imagine life at Kaer Morhen without him.

Wolf Witcher Fics:

Ensnared

Rated E

Summary: Lambert, Geralt, and Eskel have a long tradition where Eskel ties them up. This time, they've invited Aiden and Jaskier in on the fun.

The School of the Wolf

Summary: Vesemir is old, the oldest Witcher alive. Witchers don’t retire, they get slow and they die. He knows he's slowing down, but all he has left in this world is the boys he trained, and the legacy of the School of the Wolf.

Iorveth/Roche Fics:

A Kiss Can Mean A Thousand Things

Summary: Fills for kissing prompts based on the 50 Types of Kisses Writing Prompts

And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

WiP

Rated M for violence/gore

Summary: After the unjust murder of his team, Vernon Roche is willing to do anything to get them back. Even if it means drawing on unspoken-of beliefs from a childhood in Velen.

Before All Else, Be Armed (NEW!)

Summary: Iorveth and Vernon Roche are finally getting together. But when it comes time to disrobe, they run into a few problems. Namely, the sheer number of concealed weapons each of them carry.

Brewing Romance and Dissent

WiP

Summary: When a spear to the eye means that Iorveth needs to take at least a year to recover, he decides to spend it undercover in a coffeeshop in Vizima's Royal Quarter. He's also not expecting his favorite customer to be a human.

Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

WiP

Summary: In which Iorveth and Roche discover that Roche's mom Eliza works for both of them, drink lots of tea, and slowly get to know one another.

The Chase

WiP

Rated M

Summary: Iorveth likes making Roche chase him when the Blue Stripes and the Scoia'tael clash. When Roche manages to catch him one day, something entirely unexpected happens. And then it keeps happening.

Commander Roche’s Secret Lover (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Commander Roche is very clearly hiding a lover. His team tries to figure out who it could be.

Deep Inside Me (NEW!)

Rated E

WiP

Summary: Iorveth longs for things he shouldn't want and his attempt to ignore that ends up making everything worse.

Devour What’s Truly Yours

Rated E

Summary: When Roche discovers Iorveth inside a magical circle of flowers with pollen that makes you feel good, he was not at all prepared to find out what they had to do before they could leave.

A Dh’oine’s Only Use (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth arranges for his Scoia'tael to make use of his new whore, Vernon Roche. After all, a dh'oine's only use is as a hole to be fucked.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Rated E

Summary: It totally doesn’t mean anything that Roche dreams of Iorveth.

‘Ere Our Souls Are Ground To Dust

Summary: After Nilfgaard conquered the continent and deigned to let Temeria be self-governed, Roche finds himself drowning in work trying to build a new government and keep an economy afloat (well, more get it back there for some parts of Temeria). Meanwhile, he and Iorveth were managing to live a fairly domestic life together. It had only been a few months, but it was going well. Then they have their first fight. Over coffee, of all things.

Every Kiss Begins With Kayran (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Every once in a while, there was a local brave enough to seek out the Kayran for a pleasant distraction. The Kayran was delighted to oblige. And sometimes, sometimes there were people who wanted a more regular experience. People like Iorveth, who had scheduled monthly fuck dates to work off the stresses of command. Neither of them expected to get discovered during one such session.

Explore That Which Sets Your Soul Aflame (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth very much was not expecting Vernon to ask about his ears. But if he's going to satisfy Vernon's curiosity, it's only right that Vernon satisfy his in return.

Eye on You

WiP

Rated E

Summary: 5 Times Iorveth Accidentally Watched Roche Come and 1 Time Roche Watched Him

False Positive (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: When Iorveth sneaks into Lobinden in disguise to enjoy the Imbolc festival, the last thing he expects is to deal with Vernon Roche - especially because Vernon doesn't know it's him.

The First Seeds of Trust

WiP

Rated E

Summary: As soon as Iorveth had started fighting vines rather than fighting him, Roche knew something was up. Still, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

Great Eggspectations (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: In the aftermath of Temeria's fall, Vernon Roche is feeling unmoored. So it only makes sense to track down his once-enemy. Iorveth has always encouraged his mind to bring its best and right now, he dearly needs that. He's in for a slight surprise when he actually finds Iorveth, though.

A Heart’s Fire (NEW!)

Summary: Skellige is the only kingdom without a price on Iorveth's head, so it only makes sense to seek shelter there after the Scoia'tael are disbanded. The isles are nice, but what had been pleasantly cool in summer now turns freezing in winter and elves were not made for temperature extremes. So of course Iorveth manages to get caught in a blizzard.

How to Fluster an Elf

WiP

Summary: When Geralt, Dandelion, and Zoltan make a casual remark about never having seen Iorveth flustered, Roche decides to take it as a challenge. Featuring Nilfgaardian feasts, cultural differences, really fancy beds and baths, and a witcher, a dwarf, and a bard who are having the time of their lives watching Roche try to catch Iorveth off guard.

It’s the Little Things

Summary: A collection of fills for various prompts! Chapter 1: “You. Rest. Now.”

The language of friendship is not words but meanings

WiP

Summary: When Geralt is hired by the Blue Stripes and the Scoia'tael to find their missing commanders, he discovers that not only have said commanders somehow turned into children, but that the two groups managed to scare them away before introductions could be made. Fortunately, Roche and Iorveth both have their own ways of making themselves understood.

Leap of Faith

WiP

Summary: When Roche changes the rules of engagement in a skirmish with the Scoia'tael, Iorveth ends up captured.

Needs More Dragons

Summary: Frankly, 2 dragons in all the Witcher stories? Not enough. So have some fics with random dragons! Chapter 1: Honey, I Adopted A Dragon: Iorveth may have acquired a baby dragon while Roche was traveling. Roche is about to find out.

Never Have I Ever

Summary: The Blue Stripes have an evening off. What better way to spend it than by playing drinking games?

On Knife’s Edge

Rated E

Summary: After they assist in the Battle of Kaer Morhen, Iorveth and Roche end up traveling back to Temeria together. An injury to Roche’s arm leaves him unable to shave himself, so it’s only polite for Iorveth to offer his assistance… right?

Olfucktory Senses (NEW!)

Rated E

WiP

Summary: Iorveth typically found the smell of human exertion to be nauseating. But when it's Vernon Roche's sweat, somehow he finds himself responding entirely differently.

Orificial Business

Rated E

WiP

Summary: When Roche hears a rumor that the Scoia’tael might be frequenting a brothel on the edge of town, he decides it’s worth going undercover to see.

Pining and Poignards (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth may spend a lot of time thinking about Vernon Roche, but it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. Doesn't stop him from contemplating the possibilities, though. Meanwhile, Roche attempts to teach himself Elder Speech to translate the carvings on a knife Iorveth stabbed him with.

The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (NEW UPDATE!)

WiP

Summary: Ciri hates the portrait from her childhood that Geralt displays openly and proudly and loudly. He shows it off to everyone he can and she wants to destroy it. Lucky for her, two fighting enemies present a prime opportunity to make the portrait's destruction look like an accident.

The Pride of Temeria

The Blue Stripes are Temeria's elite Special Forces Unit. Their mission is to hunt down the Scoia'tael, but in between fighting and drilling, they get up to an awful lot of shenanigans. “He looks like he’s dead,” Shorty said, poking the sleeping form of their commanding officer with a stick. “Shorty!” Silas hissed shrilly. The newbie was still scared of breaking rules and he fidgeted nervously. “What?” Shorty shrugged, “He sleeps like the dead, it’s fine. As long as he’s not actually dead, anyway.” “He’s not,” Ves, their erstwhile second in command, rolled her eyes. “He’s just fucking weird.” “Are you sure he’s okay? How can he possibly breathe like that?” Igo frowned in worry, which wasn’t surprising for the man who had accidentally become their de facto team therapist. “What he needs,” Thirteen pointed in what would have been a dramatic gesture if not for the drunken stumble, “is a goo’ pair o’ tits to bury his face in.”

Red is the Rose (Complete!)

When Roche gives Iorveth a rose of remembrance, Iorveth doesn't know what to think. Legend has it that if you give a rose to someone you love, then it’ll live forever, but surely that can't be true. After all, Roche is his enemy.

Run Away With Me

Summary: Iorveth and Roche spend a starlit night together. “Run away with me,” he murmured, only half aware of the words he was saying. But when Iorveth froze, they truly processed and suddenly cold fear gripped him. He stuttered a correction, “I mean – I know, obviously, you can’t just leave your people. It’s – I–” Iorveth cupped his face, cutting off the stream of words. “Vernon,” Iorveth said, voice soft and wondrous. “Vernon,” he said again, tugging Roche forward into a desperate kiss, full of wanting and longing and regret. Even though Roche already knew the answer – of course they couldn’t just run away together – he still had to close his eyes and brace himself against the words he knew were coming when Iorveth drew back again. “Cariad,” Iorveth whispered, stroking his face. “Were my life my own, I would go anywhere with you.”

Scenes from Another World

Summary: Standalone scenes based on different trope AUs, but set in the canon Witcher universe.

Sentiment and Condescension

Summary: Roche hadn’t been planning to go to the Vengelbud party, but as soon as Emhyr told him not to... Now if he could just get Iorveth to leave him alone, he could get wasted in peace.

Seven Seconds in Holding

Summary: Iorveth is very, very unclear on how his last fight with the Blue Stripes led to him here, spooning Roche in the Blue Stripes’ holding cell, both their wrists cuffed together.

Spousal Privilege

Summary: Stuck at a diplomatic conference, Roche is frustrated that none of the elves in the room will even acknowledge he exists. Then Iorveth enters and it's like seeing an old friend. And then somehow they end up pretending to be married.

A Stubbornly Persistent Illusion (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Roche wakes up in a different world, one where he and Iorveth are raising Foltest's children in the dwarven city of Vergen.

These Boots (are gonna walk all over you)

Rated E

Summary: Neither Iorveth nor Roche had expected their fight to go like this. Inspired by this gorgeous art.

Time is Cruel, To Rob Us from Ourselves

WiP

Summary: An AU of Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria/(Im)Perfect Strangers where a magical artifact sends everyone back through events of Iorveth’s past. Iorveth is less than pleased, but the insights into his character may be invaluable for more than one person present.

Under Pressure

WiP

Rated E

Summary: When Iorveth defeats Vernon Roche, he intends to take his time interrogating his enemy. Fortunately, an abandoned mage’s house nearby provides him with the perfect toys to make this fun.

The Value of a Man

WiP

Summary: When Iorveth finally defeats Roche, he decides that such a valuable prisoner is worth ransoming back to the King. After all, surely the King's Enforcer is worth a few concessions to elven rights. Right?

To Weave The Strands of Fate (NEW!)

WiP

Summary: There is a tradition in Velen. Whenever a child is born within Velen, a lock of their hair is cut off and gifted to the Ladies of the Wood. According to whispered legends, the Lady Weavess could add the hair to her loom and thereby change their Fate.

What Happens in the Cave-In Stays in the Cave-In

WiP

Summary: When Iorveth and Roche’s fight ends abruptly because of a cave in, they find themselves trapped together as they wait to be unburied. In the meantime, Roche is injured and Iorveth has herbs that could help - but all he knows about humans is “they need more”.

Wolves and Squirrels and Stripes

Rated E

Geralt/Iorveth/Roche

Summary: A collection of Witcher 2 short fics featuring Geralt, Iorveth, and Roche. Chapter 1: Iorveth had never expected this to happen when Geralt invited him to visit Kaer Morhen.

Saskia Fics:

Damned Be The Thoughts That Refuse To Leave (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Iorveth/Roche

Summary: When Saskia gifted him a toy shaped like a large human penis, Iorveth had sworn he would never use it. After all, it wasn't as if there were any humans he desired... right?

Shared Custody (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Iorveth/Roche

Summary: Iorveth wasn't sure how walking into Saskia's office to see her talking with Vernon Roche of all people led to the three of them jammed into a closet with him in the middle, but he supposed it could be worse.

What Goes Around Comes Around (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Philippa

Summary: Philippa decides to give Saskia a little treat to wake up to. Saskia repays her in full.

163 notes · View notes

paradiselostbythedashboardlight · 4 years

Text

Quarantine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Wrote 430,943 Words of Prose in a Year

As we are coming up terrifyingly fast on a full year of quarantine with no end to the pandemic yet in sight for most people, I’ve been taking some time to reflect on the last year of my existence in a state that most people now refer to as quarantine. Since March of 2020, I, like most other sane people in my country, have stopped traveling, going to stores, seeing all but a limited group of other humans, and begun having recurring nightmares about being in crowds without a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth.

Suffice to say, it has been a bit stressful.

The other thing that I have done since COVID-19 began rapidly spreading across the globe last year is write over 430,943 words of fiction.

The number seems insane to me still. That is (approximately) one Gone With The Wind, one entire Lord of the Rings series, or the first four Harry Potter books. That is still sadly not yet War and Peace (but who knows… the pandemic isn’t over yet).

So now that I am looking back, I find myself with one question: how did this happen? Why did I do this? What does this mean about my life this year?

Since apparently I answer best by writing a lot, let’s begin at the beginning. Let me tell you a story. I’ll keep it short, I swear.

Part 1: Blast From the Past

In March of 2020, I was still in the midst of an academic semester. There was a long academic document to write and a class to teach. However, as quarantine abruptly robbed me of most of my usual commitments, I was suddenly thrust into the position of having more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. Consequently, I decided to break out the Nintendo Switch I’d gotten for Christmas and revive a childhood interest in video games.

And boy did I. I played the games I owned for all they were worth. I played them during the evenings when I had no social engagements to attend. I played them during the Zoom meetings I was already struggling to pay attention to. By the end of March, I had finished one game, and it had set the wheels turning in my brain.

Here’s a fact about me: I don’t usually tend to write or read a lot of fanfiction about things that I consider really really good. Basically, fanfiction for me has always been an impulse born from incompletion or imperfection. I see no need to add to a perfect story (although I happily consume and create fanart). But for something enjoyable and yet slightly unsatisfying? That’s fanfic territory, bud.

So by April, I had developed a sort of epic fanfiction for this video game I was playing. It was one of those magnum opus kind of ideas, a grand retelling of the story with a huge sprawling plot and Themes (™).

At first, it was merely a thought experiment that lived only in my head, a sort of entertainment to ponder in the hours before falling asleep. What changed? Well, a friend of mine decided to also write a fanfiction on the same video game and she kindly consented to let me read it.

Suddenly, I was ravenously hungry to read and to write and to share and to consume. I wrote a hundred thousand words of this fanfic in April and into early May, sending each chapter to my friend and being spurred onward by her kind comments.

The fic became a gargantuan endeavor full of strange little challenges I set for myself. It was a canon-divergence, requiring plotting, worldbuilding, a darker and grimer tone. For some reason, I decided to write each chapter from a different character’s perspective, making the final product into a series of essentially short story character studies which together formed a plot.

By the end of May, the story was published for the world to see. It was well-received, although not particularly popular by fandom standards. And that was the end. I had gotten out my pandemic crazies, the semester was over and now I could move on. I had made my peace with the source material, plumbing all of the little details that I wanted to examine and creating a narrative that I found satisfying.

It was over.

Part 2: Summer Lovin?

Except that it wasn’t.

Confession: as I had been posting my giant fanfiction, I had also begun to explore the fan community itself, mostly curious to see some nice art and gather a bit of demographic info about what was popular within the community. As a result, I found a fanfic recommendations page. Among the recommendations was one author who kept popping up and i finally decided to give the fic a read.

Woah. It was good. Like, really good. Like, professional quality writing and themes that seemed designed to appeal to me. I devoured everything that the creator had posted in a week and then subscribed to eagerly wait for more.

As June rolled around, I realized that I had a problem on my hands. My great big gen masterpiece was finished, but this author had gotten me hooked on something else, something with a nefarious reputation online: shipping.

The term du jour for this seems to be “brain worms” so let’s just say that reading other fanworks had given me some brain worms. Inspired this time not just by the source material of the game, but now the fan community itself, my mind began to develop another idea.

I wrote the fic, about 11k, in a single afternoon of frantic writing. When I finished it, I knew it was one of my strongest pieces. It had just come together, a combination of all the thought that I’d been brewing up and a stylistic execution that just worked with the story I wanted to tell.

I posted it on a new account. Shipping seemed vaguely shameful to me still and my mom reads the other account.

To my surprise, the fic blew up. It got so much more attention than my long fic ever had. Even more significantly, a fan artist actually drew a gorgeous comic of the pivotal scene, completely out of the blue! I was essentially thunderstruck. Honestly, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever received so much positive reinforcement from a piece of writing.

While I’d written short stories for undergrad workshops, they’d never been particularly good and I’d never gotten particularly great feedback on them. I’d applied and been rejected by more MFAs and literary magazines than I could count. I’d pretty much resigned myself to writing for an audience of me and me alone (which I don’t mean to sound tragic about, writing for you is great and fun!)

But receiving so much support and praise and feeling like I’d made other people happy or sad or moved? There’s nothing better.

This makes my decision to write another fic for the ship sound vaguely cynical, the action of a person driven by an addiction to praise. I mean, no lie, aren’t we all a little addicted to approval?

But my next fic was another long one, an 80k passion project modern AU that I dreamed up while spending a slow summer alone with my books and only able to leave the house for long rambling walks in the woods. The premise was essentially about characters attending a five year college reunion, something that I myself had missed due to COVID in May of the same year. The fic quickly became a way for me to process thoughts on a lot of topics in my life ranging from relationships to politics to mental health to classical literature.

This fic was also received with far more attention than I was used to and, as a result, I finally joined the notorious Twitter dot com where I found people talking about my fic unprompted, eager to follow me and like my every random thought.

I can’t say that this process was not without its ups and downs. Fandom has changed, in many ways for the better, since my last engagement with it during the 2013 Supernatural days on Tumblr. While fan friendships are often idealized or demonized, they are pretty much like any other human friendship (okay, maybe a little bit more horny on main). There is potential for amazing connection as well as pettiness. But in a year where many people suddenly had no social spaces that were safe anymore, I’m glad that I found a new line of communication with the world.

So I kept writing fics for the ship, producing a lot of work that I am genuinely proud of and making connections with other people who enjoyed it enough to leave a comment.

To conclude this section, I was in fandom again. While I had not seriously engaged with a fan community since around 2014, I was back with a vengeance. And I had discovered an important truth about what unlocked my ability to write more than I ever had before: community support.

Not simply the kudos and the views. It was the comments. The discourse. The discussion. To add and contribute my thoughts and ideas to a greater network of thoughts and ideas that fed off of one another.

Often I had seen people complain about there not being enough fanworks for particular media or characters. Now I knew the secret. The comments and the community created the works. If I commented on other people’s fics, the more likely they were to write more. I made a resolution I have tried to keep, to comment on any story that I legitimately enjoyed reading, even if I had no particularly intelligent thing to say about it.

Part 3: A Novel Idea

By late October, I had produced a considering oeuvre for my ship of choice and was enjoying slowing my pace as I planned a few future projects.

Remember, though, how I mentioned not having engaged with fandom for the past 5 years? Well, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing.

For the past 4 years, I have won NaNoWriMo and completed 4 novels of over 100k each in length. These projects have been massively fun and improved my confidence with executing stories at the scope that I desire.

And so in November 2020, I settled down to write another novel. November is always a sort of terrible time write a novel if you work in academia, but this year, I had more time than usual. I set out to write a comedy fantasy novel, something mostly lighthearted and full of hijinks in order to pretend away some of the quarantine blues (which by this point were well established in my psyche).

This year in particular, I was reminded that writing a novel is… harder than fanfic. That seems like a very obvious point, but I’d written novels before. Suddenly, though, I was realizing how much a novel requires you to set up the world and the characters, while fanfic can be pretty much all payoff all the time.

While the fanfic flowed in wild creative bursts of energy, the novel required diligence of another sort. I wrote 2,000 words every day for two months. It was a grind. Sometimes, it was a slog.

And sometimes it just wasn't good. The thing about writing your own novels is that the first draft is way more likely to be not good. You’re balancing a lot and it’s easy to let a few balls that you have in the air drop for a chapter or two, with no recourse but to go back and edit later.

I finished the novel by writing a final speedrun of 6k on new years eve, ending my 2020 with another project under my belt. No one has read it. Not even I have reread it.

I’m still glad that I wrote it. I’ll write another one next year. No one will read that one either.

Sometimes, we write for ourselves and no external validation is necessary.

Part 4: Where are they now?

January of 2021 is somehow now behind me, which is terrifying. I’m still writing. Mostly fanfic, although occasionally I go doodle around with some original ideas that are more conceptual sketches for the next novel.

As for the fanfic, I think I still have a few more good ideas left in me, but I will probably leave it behind before the year is out. That feels a little bittersweet, a sort of temporary burst of fun and friendship that I wonder if I’ll ever experience again.

Coming to the end of this reflection, I suppose I should make a summative statement about what it all means.

In the end, it might not mean a lot. There are some small takeaways.

It turns out that encouragement makes you write more! Who knew? Also, more free time makes you write more! Wow!!!!

The point that I think this reflection exercise has shown me, the point that I think matters more than any other, is that writing is a way to process my thoughts. Even if it is through the lens of ridiculous video game fanfic or novels about sad wizards, my writing is my way to make sense of my own mind.

And sharing that is special. If you share it with online strangers, with your family on Christmas Eve, with your close friend who has become even closer and dearer to you since she let you read her work, or just with your mom (the one personal legally required to read your damn novel if you want to share it). To share writing is to give someone a little peek at your beliefs about the world.

And right now? When we’re still isolated and bored and scared and in desperate need of distraction? Binge some TV, play Nintendo, read a book. Take in other people’s thoughts.

But put down your own somewhere as well. It’s a conversation.

And for once, it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to take place on fucking Zoom.

#writing #personal rambling #fanfiction

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kxhlzn · 5 years

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[i.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, fluff, crack, angst, slow burn romance, lgbtq+ themes.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader (main couple), unrequited!beverly marsh/reader, eventual richie/eddie (possibly unrequited), eventual bev/ben.

➳ wordcount: 3.2k

➳ warnings: profanity, partial nudity (the lake), slight angst.

➳ song recs: "beverly" from the it soundtrack & "she" by dodie.

➳ author's notes: hi hi hi! this is my first fic on tumblr and honestly i'm a bit anxious about this bc i haven't written in ages lmfao. this is a series, so pls don't hesitate to send in asks and the like! nothing is set entirely into stone yet. please note! the characters are fifteen in this, and pennywise doesn't attack derry at all; so georgie is alive and well and chasing paper boats in the rain. richie & reader are both bisexual, ben & bev fall in love as kids. reader and bill are vv close but platonically.

June, 1989.

the first time you meet stanley uris, he is perched on a oak bench planted in the middle of derry park, his bruised knees pressed together in order to keep his journal steady. his chin is pointed to the heavens, eyes searching the clouds, a curious glow in them; cheeks dusted a light pink, he was angelic, the sun's rays a dull comparison to the golden glow of his messy curls. the boy had a nervous tick of tapping his pencil against the yellowed paper in his lap, followed by the curve of his brow when he noticed a bird flutter overheard.

you, at age eleven, were fascinated by him, and lacked a filter to save you from your mouth. it's almost as if the hinge of your jaw had lost a screw, and you feared if it hung open too long a fly might seek entrance there. of course, it would have been entirely avoidable if you hadn't sat your butt right next to him, and stuck your nose right where it didn't belong: in his journal.

"your handwriting is pretty, but your drawings can use some serious work. is that supposed to be a bird? it looks like it's having a heart attack," you had said, tilting your head, "the wings are too jagged and the legs too... sticky, you know? not like sticky like honey, but sticky like... you know, sticks? are you mute or something?"

your blank stare forces stanley's hand to shoot to the back of his neck as he tries to find the words to attend to all of your commentary. his mouth opens and closes a few times before you roll your eyes dramatically, slumping into the back of the bench. stanley clears his throat, eyes falling to the ground.

a silence ensues, and you glance from his crestfallen expression to the drawings. "and, uh, his eyes are buggy; they look like fat marbles. they're taking up his whole face."

stan releases a breathy laugh, and he raises an eyebrow at the graphite drawing in front of him. "they do, don't they?"

you mirror his laugh, and nod solemnly. "there's no saving them," you say, and decide to tell him your name, outstretching your hand proudly.

"stanley," the boy replies, meeting your grip and giving it a good shake. "uh, you know a lot about drawing. could you fix him?"

you hum, taking the journal from his lap and dropping it in your own. you tilt your head at the sketch, putting your chin in your hand. "it's going to be a tough job, but i think he'll survive. scalpel, sir?"

he hands you the yellow pencil, sharpened down half its original length. "anastesia? or uh," you inquire, not aware of how to spell or pronounce the word, "the stuff that doctors give people during surgery."

"anesthesia," stanley corrects, pulling a pink eraser from his pocket and giving it away.

"yeah, that," you bring the eraser down and the bird lines are soon gone, but the remnants of what was stays behind on the paper. "your lines are really hard. you've prolly got heavy hand, you know. but don't worry, i do too."

the next few minutes are in comfortable silence, save for your absent-minded humming. stanley leans over your shoulder, but not to the point of invading personal space, studying each pencil stroke gracing the journal. he makes a comment about the structure of the real-life bird, and you nod your head in agreement. the two of you synchronize nearly perfectly — you sketch what he tells you to. you aren't very observant to the outside world, but you focus on details in your drawings. stanley will mention that the creature has a stray mark on its beak, and you pencil it in without the graphite being too dramatic, which stanley is quick to do in his work.

after an hour of chatting and working, you are sitting on the back of the bench, feet placed comfortably on the seat. you are talking on and on about a story that happened during your english class, and you don't refrain a single detail. stanley listens intently, body slouched forward over his journal as he writes physical descriptions of the bird next to the drawing. he checks the time on his watch, and nearly jumps out of his seat. he swivels around, eyes blown wide, but you don't seem to notice as your arms wave about, mimicking a girl in your class.

stanley barks your name, which sounds sweet on his tongue, he realizes. when you focus on him curiously, he looks guilty. "i have to go. i was supposed to go to my friend's house so we could go to the quarry together. uh, unless you want to.. go?"

you grin, hopping onto the soil beside him. "for sure!" you hook your arm in his, and skip forward a few steps.

"wrong way," he says sheepishly.

you turn around, now exceedingly confident. "onward, steed!"

the next few years, up until freshman year, you are best friends with stanley uris and his gang of friends; bill denbrough, richie tozier, and eddie kaspbrak. bill was the kindest of all of them, a sensitive boy with a heart of gold. his love for art made him an easy companion, and you grew very close the summer of 7th grade, spending many hours a week at his house simply talking and making art. his little brother is like your favorite person, the little squirt constantly bugging bill about when he'll see you again, and telling bill he likes you better because you'll play with him.

eddie is a mother hen to you, warning you about the dangers you put yourself in on a daily basis. you are more reckless than the other boys, so it's common to see eddie turn an ugly shade of purple when he witnesses you do something exceedingly ignorant. with your asthma, he can relate to you, but you personally believe the inhalers you have are pointless and there's no need to rely on them, but eddie disagrees. when he takes a puff from his emergency inhaler, which is more of a daily one, he tends to shove one in your mouth too for simple sake of anxiety. you've found that he calms down when you play with his hair or give his scalp a light scratch, his voice lost in the serenity of it all.

ah, richie tozier; you two are scarily similar, and everyone is aware of it. he's of course referred to as "trashmouth", and you're known as "loudmouth", as richie has a tendency to speak inappropriate things, and you just keep speaking and can't properly whisper to save your life. a major difference between the two of you is your vulnerability, naiveness, and positive charisma. his talkativeness is characterized by sarcasm and the "class clown" stereotype, while yours relies more on really just being a chatterbox, whose thoughts spill out at rapid speeds without being filtered by your brain. fortunately, it's easier to make friends this way, and you tend to be the ice-breaker of your friends. richie, personally, admires this about you and thinks of you as an "innocent little ball of sunshine", and likes to put his arm on your head to show his dominance.

your relationship with stanley uris is a bit complicated; of course, at first, it was unproblematic being friends with him, as you were easy opposites. you spoke into the space that he was too quiet to fill, and it was comfortable for the both of you; you got to speak your mind without interruption, and stanley was able to have company that didn't force him to interact gregariously. however, as you grew with time, he found your carelessness to be irritating, as he hated feeling he had to be anxious all of the time; stanley enjoys turning his alarm off, and running on low function, and he thinks it is hard to do that when you're jumping off cliffs, climbing on slippery rocks with your eyes covered, and provoking bullies three years older than you. he finds you irrational and childlike, which is difficult for him to grasp as an inherently strategic and analytical person. you are a glass half full, and he is glass half empty. he prefers to consider the consequences, and you have a tendency to wait to find them out after you commit the deed. he has his future planned, and you want to live in the moment; you enjoy surprises, new opportunities, as there is something entirely boring about being sure what you plan to do each day. sometimes, you believe stanley wakes early, dresses in the outfit he put aside the night before, and takes a seat to write down a schedule. you shiver at the thought. unfortunately, the disagreements put tension on your friendship, as hanging out periodically ends with an argument, and one of you stomping out to rant to one of the others. you sincerely care for each other, but also find each other extremely irritating when the situation calls for it; which is becoming increasingly habitual as you grow taller with age.

but you also find him to be beautiful.

you're fifteen when you properly meet ben hanscom, beverly marsh, and mike hanlon. it's also the first time you felt something strike deep in your gut for that particular redheaded girl, and the way her newly chopped locks curled at the ends. she had tucked your hair behind your ear as you wrestled with the button on your overall shorts, and took your hands in hers, pushing them aside so she could slip the button through the hole properly. she was so graceful, elegant even, in the way she held herself. that day, you labeled the twist of your insides as insecurity, nothing else.

it was a mix of many things, you realized a long time after. insecurity, deep-rooted sexual confusion, and jealousy.

beverly is the first to jump off the cliff and into the lake below. after aiding you in your clothing disaster, she slips her creamy overdress from her shoulders, and gives her arms a good shake. she departs with a glance back at you, the sun beating down on her hair like fiery red flames, and her icy eyes contrasting its intensity. suddenly, you feel so small; so plain. before she could see your lip quiver, she was in the air, high like an angel, before falling towards the murky waters.

the stars in bill and ben's eyes, and the admiration in the rest of theirs, erupt a cacophony for you, striking your heart like a harsh note: these aren't your boys anymore.

bill jumps next, and then the others, eddie last. the splash sends spikes in your spine, but it's a warm hand on your shoulder that kick-starts your body. sandy curls appear in front of your face, tilting to reveal the kind eyes of stanley uris. his mouth is shaped in a firm line, a bit disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. he seems to be at war with himself.

he stays silent for a moment, eyes searching the sky for the right words. "i want to go last," he finally breathes, seemingly triumphed in his verbiage, "i don't want them to see me cross my fingers behind my back before i go."

you laugh softly, relieved. you are grateful knowing he wasn't going to pry in your hesitation, or your brief self-consciousness. even when the two of you bicker, you hold high respect for stan; he's a boy of few words. he isn't shy, and certainly isn't bashful; he simply chooses to speak sparingly, believing that the chattiest voices aren't always loudest. he doesn't word vomit to fill the silence; that is how you know his words are meticulously chosen, like pieces to a greater puzzle.

stanley's thin frame makes no unnecessary movements, but rather awaits yours. his hand has long since abandoned your shoulder, and rather is cuffing his other calmly in front of his hips. the lack of speech isn't menacing or awkward, but instead a bit comforting; it gives you adequate time to finish undressing, tossing aside your socks and shoes. you pull the loose scrunchie from your hair, and give yourself a silent nod in reassurance.

"promise not to tell?" stan says quietly when he's sure you're more stable, curious eyes searching for yours.

"pinky promise," you insist, holding up the smallest finger on your right hand. when his wraps around yours, you toss him a childlike grin. "i never break them."

and then you're gone, cascading down towards the green waters, each wave crystalizing in your descent.

"i know," stanley whispers to himself. little do you know, he has the same epiphany you had just seconds ago, aweing after beverly.

he crosses his fingers behind his back, and steps off the cliff's edge.

air reaches your lungs when you pull your head above the surface, and you gather your sopping hair from your skin, laying it against your neck. you face the sky, and stan's dive is a flash of gold: like a bird, graceful in it's dip, his curls like its wings.

you find yourself wanting to ask him what it's like to fly.

—

on a boiling day in the middle of june, you and the others spend a day in the quarry again, but instead have a picnic by the rocks rather than racing back into town for a snack at eddie's house. it was mike's idea; he hadn't told anyone until he showed up early that day, sweaty and beaming with a quaint basket and blanket tucked under his arm. you felt a bit guilty, honestly— you wish he would've told you so you all could pitch in.

he seemed ecstatic, though, setting it up, so you couldn't bring yourself to mention that.

beverly says she wants to sunbathe with you, so you agree with hot cheeks and position yourself awkwardly next to her, posture straight with your knees tucked under your arms. your stiffness goes unnoticed by her, thankfully, so you're able to admire her form in peace as she stretches her limbs out with a soft sigh. compared to her, you feel unbearably rigged, unbearably not feminine. a thought crosses your mind that her own feminity outshines yours so much that the boys must think of you as one of them, minus the third leg, and with twin petals blossoming on your chest.

the boys are curled around their usual spots, the multiple boulders a few feet from your seated position, chatting carelessly. mike is discluded, lost in preparing the perfect picnic for you all. perhaps if you had noticed the simplicity of it all, you wouldn't have blurted out something ignorant to force a tension in the summer air.

"do you guys think i'm pretty?"

the conversation drops briefly, takes a soft roar, and then entirely ceases as seven pairs of eyes draw to you, including mike and beverly. the red-haired girl has a smirk on her lips, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to test your patience and purpose.

bill clears his throat gently. "u-um, well, yeah of c-course.. w-why wouldn't w-we?"

you shrug nonchalantly, and the others eyeball each other, pleading for another to say something else. eddie and ben slyly play rock paper scissors for a sacrifice.

richie whistles lowly. "this is gonna be good."

your face's temperature soon begins to rival the sun as your breath hitches in your throat, attention turned directly on beverly, as though her presence might calm your nerves. it doesn't. your lower lip is caught between your teeth, as you grow progressively more embarrassed of yourself the longer the others stare.

beverly smiles gently, her intensely blue eyes never straying from yours. "i think you're the prettiest girl in the world."

you sputter suddenly, adjusting your aviators, and spill out something along the lines of "i have to go take a piss", and skitter off in the direction of the woods. you curse yourself the entire way.

richie laughs, breaking the tension. he pats stanley's bare back roughly as the lanky boy stares at the trees you disappeared behind. "and the hits just keep on coming."

"beep beep, richie," eddie scolds, and richie winks at him, suggestively nodding towards him. eddie rolls his eyes and his gaze drops to his feet.

"sandwiches, anyone?" mike whimpers, a lopsided grin as he holds up a loaf of bread. stanley gently pushes past him and disappears into the brush.

"well, i, for one, would like three," richie replies, slapping his thighs as he stands.

eddie mumbles a word or two about richie being "as selfish as ever", and makes his way to mike also. beverly is a bit quiet, and bill chooses to sit beside her; his hands fall to his knees, rubbing them subconsciously.

"u-um, you didn't do a-anything wrong," he says, aware of the deep concentration beverly has. he can usually tell when everyone is upset or has something on their mind. "she's j-just been a l-little self conscious lately."

"please," beverly whispers, lifting her head to the sky, "i can tell she's been different around me. i must have said something to offend her. i should apologize—"

beverly pulls herself up, dusts off her legs, and is yanked down by bill's shaky hand.

"d-d-don't—" when the girl steadies, he continues, "let them b-b-be. if y-you really did s-something to h-hurt her, s-s-stanley will f-find out. trust him."

the greenery is exceedingly massive— miles and miles of towering woodland, filtering in streams of sunlight, rocky terrain around every trunk. you find yourself breathing heavily while seated on a boulder that is tucked away behind a ledge, facing the opposite way of the opening that your friends are at. elbows pressed into your knees, you put your face in your hands.

the air is tightening around your throat, and your uneven breaths become wheezes. you fist your hair in frustration, and smooth it down seconds after. this turns into a cycle, as you calm your wild nerves. fuck. are you allowed to think of her like that? you inhale deeply, the scent of soil filling your senses.

twigs crack in the distance, rapidly approaching feet obliterating the silence that has so graciously aided you in your toxic thoughts. you run your hands through your hair, and then fist a handful at the scalp. you smooth it out tenderly. when the footsteps are extremely close, slow down their pace, and stop entirely, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"go the fuck away, bill, i don't need your lect—" you bark, waving him away, but are cut off by long arms wrapping around your neck. your anxiety washes away, but you make no effort to embrace them in turn. your hands become fists, with no fabric of a shirt to grasp. you don't notice the tears racing down your face until your eyes and cheeks burn furiously, and your throat is caught up in sobs. when you peek, the sight of stanley's dusty curls in your peripheral sends waves of numbness and comfort over your skin.

your thoughts become hazy once you've lain your head against the bone of stanley's bare shoulder, and you feel a weight on your body lift from you— and transfer to him.

you swear you can hear faint whispering, voice cracked and vulnerable: "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay."

the part that leaves you aching for days in the future, is that you're not sure he was talking to you.

➳ i hope you liked it! it's a bit short but idc cuz i'm tired.

#it #the losers club #stephen king #it 2017 #stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #beverly marsh x reader #it fanfiction #stanley uris imagine #beverly marsh imagine #kassie writes #BW

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