#Note she recovered from her stroke perfectly!

[nei-ning]

No offensive, but I don’t get my mom most of the times in these days anymore. After she started to be with her current boyfriend (like 10 years ago) it seems like she just has become more dumb - pretty much the same what and how HE is as well. More under the cut since this is a bit “long” post.

When mom comes to visit me once every day (because she spends all her time at his place otherwise), first thing what she does is go to the fridge and eat. Eat, eat and eat some more. Those few hours what she’s with me, most of it she spends on eating.

I honestly have asked from her: Is she starving herself at his place? Isn’t he letting her eat? What she eats per day? All this because I have faint memory of mom telling me years ago how this guy, while being drunk, had nagged at mom about it how much she eats. What comes to her eating at his place, she just says: “Oh, but I have eat! I ate oatmeal in the morning, during the day I drank a cup of coffee, at the afternoon I ate few slices of bread. (or few potatoes with tiny bit of sauce)”

I have told her many times THAT’S NOT ENOUGH and that she needs to eat! At least 2-3 warm meals per day! Especially since she has diabetes (mom has had it for decades but it doesn’t give her any symptoms like dizziness etc.) she needs to watch her eating.

Also, some weeks ago mom showed me her toenails and, my GOD! Big nails were brown, other nails lighter brown, her nameless- and little toes’ nails being VERY thick and yellow! And the SMELL! OH GOD, THE SMELL!! That horrible stink lingered in the house for HOURS after she left back to her boyfriend’s! She’s literally rotting and she doesn’t notice or care! (she has other health issues as well which she just hasn’t taken care of)

I told her she, with 100%, has nail fungus and that she NEEDS TO get them treated! Properly! (Note: I watch a lot of professionals’ videos about pimple popping, nail fungus etc. on Youtube. My favorites are Enilsa Brown and Toe Bro, just few to mention).

For ONCE she listened to me, calling to a hospital she needs to see a podiatrist. You can’t get appointment otherwise. Mom is still waiting for her call.

Now, I don’t know what kind of professional this new lady is (hopefully great!) but the previous one who mom visited years ago... I question her a lot since she had told mom that she DOESN’T need any treatment! Like why?! She had nail fungus back then already!

And then mom... She is a person who always listens doctors etc. bending in their will instantly instead of standing up for herself, demanding treatments - like she should had done with that first podiatrist. Tell her she NEEDS and WANTS her toenails to be treated - because NOTHING was done to her toenails. No trimming, lotion, meds, nothing!

So, I really hope this new lady takes mom and her nail fungus seriously, helping mom to get rid of them.

[thewatercolours]

King Quest Ficlet: "Always on Hand"

Note: This is an unfinished scene. I ran out of steam, and summarized how it would finish at the end.

After taking the throne, Graham found fewer opportunities to visit the old Llewdor homestead. He had to grasp such chances firmly by the scruffs. If he did not, other needs would press on his time and make it vanish. Then one evening he would have a nightcap that tasted just too much like the golden bitter his mother and Madeline used to brew and sell to the local tavern, just to keep bread on the table. Or he would find himself strolling in the gazebo courtyard, and realize he could no longer picture the ivy back home – only that he had noticed the differences when he first arrived. And the longing to tread roads that knew his boots would set in, stronger and stronger, until he had to go.

The first time, Royal Guard Number One took an entire week just plotting the trip out. He marked maps in red ink. He arranged for enough provisions to equip a polar expedition. Amaya was commissioned to outfit half a dozen guards with new weaponry. (“Can we even afford this?” “Your safety is our priority, sire.” “But we can’t even pay to have the castle roof patched!” “It already needs patching. You don’t, and we’d like to keep it that way.”) The whole trip was pushed back by a month just for preparation time.

Graham bit his tongue.

The guards made quite the sight at the farmhouse, posting themselves on either side of the ladder that led up to the loft which had been Graham’s childhood bedroom, ramrod stiff. Guard Number Three went through a phase where she taste-tested every food Rosie served up, because it “wasn’t prepared in the royal kitchens. And according to the handbook, we are to assume it is, (sniff, sniff,) suspect.”

Madeline and Ginger tried to put a brave face on it and crack all the inside jokes despite the outsiders, but it wasn’t the same. Especially with the running commentary Guards Number One and Two kept up when they thought the family was not listening. “The noses on this family, though. I’d assumed the king’s nose was some kind of… exception.”

Rosie took to setting tea for the guards on the lawn, just so she could get some space alone with the family, and so that private conversations did not have to be whispered. “I’m racking my brain,” she told Graham in an undertone as they watched the guards through the diamond-paned window, “whether there’s some sightseeing I could suggest for them. You know, so they’d, um, give us an afternoon off. But darned if I can think of any sights round here.”

Ginger stroked her chin. “Maybe we could take them round to the ol’ griffin cave down by the river, and we could be really loud so it would wake up. And while they’re distracted by the griffin,  we could slip off and -”

“Ginger!”

“Just saying, they’ve got two swords apiece. They’d be fine.”

But Rosie put her foot down.

Three or four years into his reign, Graham had to put own foot down. “No guards,” he said firmly the day before he was due to set out for Llewdor. “None.”

Number One crossed his arms sternly. “Out of the question. You are-”

“ - perfectly fine traveling on my own,” Graham all but snapped, crossing own arms as though in mirror image. “You know I made my way to the tournament here completely alone, right? You know I recovered the three treasures alone, right? And you take up half the house when you’re there. You eat my mom and sisters out of house and home!”

“But sire –“

“For Pete’s sake, Number One! Putting a crown on my head didn’t turn me into china!”

“You were literally –“ The captain caught himself, then seemed to think better of it. “- literally kidnapped from Daventry Square not so long ago.”

He had something of a point. But, “That was a few years ago! I’ve leveled up since then. And I’ve worked hard to move on from all of that. It seems to me part of that is having some confidence that nothing of the kind’s going to happen again.” Graham stopped to catch his breath. “Look, I’ll compromise. I’ll take the main roads, and stay at inns where I can, and leave letters for the landlords to forward on to you. Zards, I’ll tie straps onto a cage of homing pigeons and wear it like a backpack, if that’s what it takes to get you off my back. Um, sorry,” he hastily corrected himself, feeling Number One’s glare even through his helmet. “I meant, if that’s what it takes to reassure you. Ten to one the magic mirror’s going to show what I’m up to the whole time anyway. Come on!” Graham summoned as charming a smile as he could in his frustrated state. “Meet me in the middle?”

Number One considered. “I might meet you at the 13.5% point. There’s a defensible-ish old guard house there, and it’s not that far from Daventry, and –“

“Not what I meant.”

To make short a long story, it took some haggling, but eventually Graham rode alone once again. Only Triumph heard his highway songs. There was no warm but careful politeness when his family opened the door. On the contrary, they tackled him. Fireside chats lasted into the wee hours, with no need to respect anyone’s carefully planned night patrol hours.

As the ancient grandfather clock chimed 2 o’clock, Madeline processed in from the kitchen with a steaming pan. “Anyone for seconds on hermit cookies? I’d just give them another couple of minutes - ” she said, even as her brother swiped one.

“Aaagh!” screamed Graham, dropping the cookie into the depths of the ancient sofa, and sucking his fingertips. “Zards-zards-zards!”

“Serve you right!” Ginger chuckled, bouncing Baby Jimmy on her hip. “You know that’s how Anisette lost one of her fingers in Puerto Pollo, right? Kind of.”

Graham fished for the cookie amongst the cushions. “Can you imagine if my guards were here?”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Can I ever. Full blown emergency mode. That second guard would probably swan dive head first into the sofa, like you’d dropped your crown into the lake, or something. If you weren’t forbidden to eat it because it was more than one second.”

“You’re probably thinking of Number Three, not Number Two.” Graham gave up the search and reached for another cookie, using his shirt cuff as an oven mitt. “Matt would be more likely to

OK, this ficlet won’t resolve itself, and if I don’t do something soon, I’ll lose the drive to post it all together. So, in the spirit of that bullet points post, the general vision went like so:

Graham complains about the guards to his family but over the course of the scene actually describes some of the things he loves about them without knowing it.

Another quick scene takes places a few years later, when Valanice is preparing to move into the castle, and Graham’s mom and Madeline come to help with prep for the wedding and get to know her a bit. They end up having to work with the guards, who are surface level annoying but actually click really well with them, as we see through little hints.

Number One and Rosie get a one-on-one scene together. Though it’s never stated, it’s conveyed over the course of the scene that they begin to understand that in some respects, their relationships with Graham are similar, and that the other has a good deal more to them than meets the eye.

Montage, featuring the guards intersecting with Graham’s life. Adventures. Daily doings. Alexander’s kidnapping and disappearance. The guards are there, supporting, protecting, sometimes being doofuses but always reliably there.

Graham takes Valanice and Rosella to Llewdor for the first time. And the visit is awesome and everything but… at the end, Rosie says carefully, “Graham I haven’t seen your captain – or any of your guards – since you and Valanice got married. I was wondering, do you want to… bring them along next time?”

And Graham heartily agrees.

Cheesy! Corny! But soft one-shots is the name of the game.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Rub

Kinktober - Foot Fetish NSFW - Adults Only

Author's Note: I had a request from a reader for a follow up to my story PDA 3 to pick up with Steve and Nat where the story drops off. It just seemed perfect for this particular kink.

Natasha stretched out on the sofa, her bare feet in Steve’s lap. His big hands worked on the sore spots from spending hours standing around in high heels. It felt good and she stretched out like a cat.

“I think we’ll head off to bed, too.” Stark stood up. “As good as the foot rubs look, I’m more partial to my jetted tub.” Pepper took his hand and arched an eyebrow at him. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ll rub your feet while we’re in the tub.”

Steve chuckled. “Good night.”

After all sounds fell away, Nat sighed. “You know, my lotion is on the table next you. It would make this even better.”

Steve grinned, not really minding that she assumed the ministrations would continue. “Yes, ma’am.”

He gathered a fair amount of the clean smelling lotion in his hands, warming it before rubbing it into the arch of her foot. She let out a low moan and sighed. The sound went straight to his cock. Swallowing back the surprise at his reaction, Steve focused on his task.

Her feet looked so small in his hands. He rubbed the slick lotion over every soft curve. Steve tried to focus on her perfectly painted red toes nails instead of the little mewls and sighs she made as his fingers dug into delicate spots.

Laying back on the sofa, Natasha relished in the feeling of Steve’s hands sliding over her feet, digging in and relieving every little ache. She also realized just how good it felt to have his hand on her flesh. As she shifted, her foot grazed against the growing evidence of his enjoyment. Nat fought back a smile, there would be no hiding it in those sweats.

She scooted down a bit more, bringing her butt closer to his hip. The movement pushed her dress up dangerously high. It also allowed her to move her feet more precisely. The foot resting in his lap rubbed along the length of him.

Steve gave a quiet groan. His eyes traveled up Nat’s strong legs to her mischievous grin. “Natasha.”

“More lotion.” She grinned. Her toes found their way under his t-shirt and she felt his stomach clench.

“Should we be doing –“

“Shush.” Nat rubbed the length of him through his sweats again.

Steve’s eyes dropped closed, but he stopped rubbing her foot.

She said his name and his eyes snapped to hers. “Keep rubbing. More lotion.”

Steve squirted more lotion onto her foot and continued his massage. When the toes of her other foot found their way under the edge of his sweats his hips jerked. Still, his focus remained on the small foot in his hands.

Natasha’s other foot rubbed against the rock-hard length of him.

When Steve finally pushed down his sweats enough to free his cock, Natasha moved so the arch of each foot encircled him. She marveled at the look on his face, lost in passion. Heat welled in her core as she stroked him.

Steve poured more of the lotion over her feet, slicking them up, and pressing them against his cock as he rocked his length against them. His head fell back and he panted at the feeling, fight back the urge to moan aloud.

Looking over, Nat had her dress hiked up with her fingers buried between her legs. Steve held the toes of both her feet in one hand to keep them tight around his cock. The other slid up her leg, a finger slipping into her wetness beside her own. She moaned softly.

“Tell me something.” Nat breathed. “Do you, ah, recover from this as quickly as you heal?”

Steve wet his lower lip with his tongue and gave a nod.

“Good.” She fought to concentrate as his fingers curled into sensitive spots and her own fingers dances against her clit. “Because I want to see you come, just like this, then we can head to my room for some more fun.”

“Fuck,” He sighed and pushed himself harder into the curve of her feet.

“That’s it.” Nat plead. “Like that.”

Steve used both of his hands to mold her feet against him. He fucked into her arches, aware of her stare, excited by it. Amazed at the newest of the sensation. She began to speak, quietly urging him on. Soon he was panting and squeezing tight. His eyes fell on her glistening core, lips spread wide as she stroked and touched herself. He wanted more.

With a sudden tug on one of her legs, Steve pulled her onto his lap and impaled her on his cock, pulling her all the way down in powerful motion. She bit back the moan and took ahold of his broad shoulders.

Steve braced his feet and slammed his hip up into her fast, and hard, and desperate. She held on, relishing in the violence of it. The intensity welcome after years of want. His mouth attached to her breast over the silk, his teeth pulling at the hard nipple.

She came with a gasp, body trembling in his hands. Her cunt clenched and convulsed. Steve followed her over the edge.

Panting, clothes mussed and slick with sex, they grinned at one another before kissing for the first time.    

Want more? Check out my Master List.

[okimargarvez]

CUDDLE AND HOT CHOCOLATE

Original title: Cuddle and hot chocolate.

Prompt: winter is coming.

Warning: slight smut.

Genre: romantic, smut.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot, part 98 of 365 pills of Garvez canon life. 

Legend: 💑😈. Song mentioned: none.

GARVEZ STORIES

CUDDLE AND HOT CHOCOLATE

-Winter is my favorite season.- Penelope exclaims, snuggling closer to the man's chest. She arranges her blanket so that not a single toe of her toes is outside it.

-But you said the same thing about autumn...- Luke points out to her, with the usual amused tone for having caught her. -And technically it won't be winter until the 21st.- he reminds her, even more pleased. She jumps, under the blanket, but she doesn't separate from him, because she would risk letting out the little heat accumulated and then, then, because she's very comfortable.

-Oh, but you always have to specify and argue about everything I say?- she asks him, meditating on how to take revenge without compromising her position.

-Obviously, because I like making you exasperate.- he replies, grinning precisely because he knows she can't get away from him. -And anyway it's the truth, you said, two months ago, that you adored autumn because the streets are filled with colors and the rain creates an atmosphere…- he quotes her directly, only avoiding making quotation marks in the air, because his hands stay perfectly where they are, one on her thigh, and the other moving on her ribs. -And now you're repeating the same thing, but with snow.- he giggles.

-What a stupid, I wanted to make a hot chocolate and drink it on the couch cuddling up to you.- Penelope finds the strength to stand up, sacrificing comfort and warmth, just to see him feel bad. She voluntarily shakes her ass, heading towards the kitchen, aware that she has catalysed all of his attention. -And instead, nothing!- she turns towards him and finds him a few inches away, on the doorstep.

-Hey, no, come on, Pen, I was just kidding, I love winter too.- he reaches out and grabs her hands, then starts stroking her everywhere, in that delicate way but bold enough to make her dizzy. He presses her against the table, until she lies on top of her and kisses every exposed part of her body, which, since it's almost winter, corresponds to her neck, wrists, face, and her ankles.

-Why?- she incredibly manages to ask him, even if she has to hold back more than a gasp.

-Because you're always cold and you're all over me at all times looking for warmth.- he tells her, not ceasing to torture her. It almost seems that she is the beautiful prisoner tied on the sacrificial altar.

-It's not true at all!- she protests, wriggling to free himself, or rather, to deepen the game. The surface of the table certainly isn't hot, but when Luke is so close to her, it's hard to feel cold; it seems to her that every part of her body is on fire.

But it's just an impression, and he seems to want to remind her. -Oh no? Feel your feet.- he takes off her hairy pink slippers with unicorns on them. She's getting a bit monothematic. -It looks like you kept them in the freezer.- she fears that he might tickle her there, so she pushes him away by using this very part as a weapon, and sitting up.

-It's normal, almost all women have frozen feet and hands.- she points out to him, trying to recover her slippers. He takes her around the waist and helps her, almost in a ballet move. Penelope even bows to him.

-And what am I to you?- he asks her, following her body with his eyes. -A stove?- she turns to laugh at him.

-No, plus a bathroom heater.- Luke runs his tongue over his lips and nods.

-Where are you going?- he watches her go towards the stove.

-I want to make chocolate. You don't deserve it, but I'm going to have to pay you somehow.- she turns once more to give him a wink, then she really concentrates on the difficult task. Since both have no cooking skill, there is little to joke about.

-Hey, I'm fine with payments in kind too.- he runs his hands up her back, brushes her hair back to get a better view of her neck.

-Stupid!- she scolds him, with an extremely sweet tone. She manages to complete the operation successfully. -Here.- she pours the contents of each saucepan into the appropriate cup: one in the shape of an octopus, pink, that he gave her to compensate for the one that, she is absolutely convinced, Monty stole from her, and one completely black, with the Ranger symbol above.

-Oh, Pen, it's dark chocolate.- he realizes, almost feeling his emotion rise. That's what makes her amazing, her attention to detail, and not just with him. She makes every person she meets along the way special because she never forgets that there is someone in front of her.

-Of course.- she smiles at him softly, stroking his arm. -Smell mine.- she puts it directly under his nose and Luke frowns, disgusted.

-Chili pepper. I don't know how you can drink something like that.- he pushes it away and even shivers.

-I'm the one who doesn't understand how a Latin like you doesn't like spicy things.- she teases him, carrying both cups into the living room. -I'll talk about it with your grandmother, the next time we go to visit her.- she places them on the coffee table and sits down on the sofa.

-Perfect.- he reaches her promptly. - Now she got Whatsapp. Why don't you text her there?- Penelope beams, clapping her hands in appreciation.

-You gave me an idea.- she exclaims, giggling, looking for her cell phone. But Luke's hand stops her before she can.

-I was joking!- he can already imagine them, her and his grandmother, making fun of him every second, exchanging voice messages about his latest bullshit.

-Oh, Luke, you're so funny when you worry!- she grabs him by face and gives a big kiss on his lips. -But now shut up, the movie is starting.- they get back in position, she settles her legs completely under the blanket, leans against him and grabs the cup.

-What are you talking about?- he asks, taking his cup without unbalancing her.

-What's it about?- he asks her, taking his cup without unbalancing her.

-It's about Christmas.- she answers him, as if this were enough to clarify everything.

He waits for a while, thinking she'll add details. -Yes, but what is the plot?- he asks at the end. Penelope doesn't take her eyes off the screen.

-I don't know, it's about Christmas and this seems to me a sufficient criterion to decide to watch a movie.- Luke bursts out laughing, puts down his cup and strokes her shoulder.

-Oh, honey.- he tries to kiss her, but she pushes him away.

-Remember that even the Grinch changes his mind at the end of the movie.- she points out.

-But I'm much more incorruptible and stronger than him.- she looks at him just to understand if he's serious.

-As you like, now, shut up.- it's an order, not a suggestion.

An hour later, she remembers that she has a boyfriend. -So? Don't tell me you didn't like it.- she says.

-Yes, nice, nothing special. The usual Christmas movie.- he doesn't want to give her any satisfaction. -You do it on purpose to make me angry. Well, Mr. Green, you won't succeed.-

[leejungchans]

strangers-to-lovers au with uni classmate!seungkwan

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by @seungcy : HIII WIFEYYY CONGRATS ON 1K MUAH MUAH <3 i hope ur taking good care of urself <3 luv u sm muah; may i request 🫣 uni student kwan strangers to lovers where kwan wants to get to know fem!reader so as a way to slowly open up to her, he buys her snacks and leaves them by where she sits along with little notes <//3 KINDA LIKE A SECRET ADMIRER 🫣 and they talk this way for a couple months and reader wants to know them better so kwan gives them his number and then they meet up and yeah <3 fall in luv kiss kiss smoochies very fluffy i love him i won’t him yes yes 🫣🫣

a/n: hai waifey 💗💗 i hope you like how your req turned out muah muah!!!! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY I HOPE YOU HAVE A SEGGSYLICIOUS DAY EVERYONE GO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WAIF RN >:( 💗

word count | 2.1k

pairing | boo seungkwan (svt) x f!reader

genre | fluff, humour (a lil), university au, strangers-to-lovers au

warning(s) / includes | food mentions (please lmk if i missed anything!)

you were his classmate in one of his electives

it was one of those easy-a courses where the professor reads off the slides and you can afford to not pay attention and still do pretty well as long as you memorise everything

so most people pretty much either skipped class or blatantly didn’t pay attention, treating the lecture as a 2-hour podcast for background noise

seungkwan wouldn’t say he was the best student, but he thinks it’s a safe estimate that he tried harder than 80% of the people who even showed up to class

it wasn’t a very fun time though </3 with people either dozing off or doing their own thing, he hadn’t made a single friend in the class because it just felt awkward to suddenly approach someone halfway through the semester :(

sometimes vernon snuck into the auditorium to keep him company whenever he didn’t have tutorials <3 we love friends <3

but the lecturer was just so good at lulling people to sleep that he’s usually out cold half an hour in </3 once again leaving seungkwan to his own devices </3

boooooooo (affectionate)

the class had to do an individual presentation on an assigned topic, and in the lesson following the deadline your lecturer randomly picked twenty people off the name list to present theirs in front of everyone

that was the day you caught seungkwan’s eye <333

everyone else before you didn’t bother trying to look like they were interested in the topic, which was understandable, but that meant their presentations were barely engaging and he was fighting to keep his eyes open 😭

but then your name was called, and he heard murmured apologies from a few rows behind him as you made your way down to the podium

you were so cute with your glasses, the large lens complementing your bright eyes perfectly as you shyly began speaking

but perhaps the most attractive part about you was your attitude; you were cheerful and friendly, not excessively so, but enough to have the bored audience paying attention

seungkwan could tell you were nervous: your voice quivered a little at certain points and you fumbled over your words a little whenever the computer was being slow and refused to move onto the next slide despite your frantic clicking, but you recovered quickly after each time

you ended your presentation with a shy smile and an awkward little bow that made some people (including himself) giggle good-naturedly, and he watched fondly as you gave the lecturer a polite nod before practically running back to your seat from embarrassment

he snuck a glance over his shoulder at you, smiling to himself when he found you ducking your head to shield your flustered face from the people sitting near you

he took an instant liking to you that day; you just radiated such positive vibes, and he admired that 🥺

poor kwan wanted to your friend so, so badly, but he didn’t know how to approach you without coming off weird or awkward ;-;

by a stroke of luck, you sat directly in front of him in the next class, an idea popped into his head when you left the auditorium during the 10-minute break

he bought a chocolate bar that morning for when he got hungry or wanted a snack, but then he thought it might be nice to give it to you instead in case you needed a pick-me-up, and who doesn’t like free food?

so he whipped out the little pad of sticky notes he always brought with him (they’re cute—they have little bears holding tangerines on the bottom), and wrote you a short message

you came back to your seat after a quick bathroom break to find a chocolate bar on your tray table along with a small note, you looked around a bit but everyone seemed busy doing their own thing, looking completely inconspicuous; you had no friends in this class so you knew it wasn’t a prank, and no one came up telling you it was meant for someone else either

it left you confused, but you weren’t about to complain about a small act of kindness from one of your classmates

seungkwan couldn’t see, but you had the biggest smile on your face as you read the note, your finger tracing over the pretty, neat penmanship

i hope you like chocolate ^v^ good luck with your classes if you have more after this one!

you did have another class later in the day, and it was a tough one too—your mystery classmate has a good hunch, it seems

your friend seokmin noted the skip in your step as you met up with him for dinner that night, and you excitedly pulled out the chocolate and the note to show him

“looks like someone has a secret admirer,” he affectionately teased, but it couldn’t be, right? you never talked to anyone in this class aside from that one time you asked a boy for a spare sheet of paper. plus, the class has over a hundred people, you’d be practically invisible

you thought you just got lucky that one time, but the notes kept coming for every lesson that followed, and the snack or drink that came with each sticky note was also different every week

even the girl who sat next to you during one of the lectures gushed over how sweet the gesture was when she saw you reading the note, and it led you to realise just how much you liked this mystery person, how they managed to get you to look forward to a morning class on a monday

deep down, you were dying to know who they were because they seem so thoughtful and easy to talk to; you’d love to meet them to thank them for their kindness and maybe even treat them to lunch or dinner as a sign of gratitude. who knows? perhaps you’d even end up being friends

and technically, you knew it’d be easy to catch them in the act—pretend to leave your seat and spy from afar until the mystery person made their move, but you resisted the urge with all your willpower, because if they wanted to reveal themselves, they would’ve; the fact that they didn’t told you they most likely weren’t comfortable with doing so yet, and you wanted to respect that

so you decided to communicate with them another way: by leaving them a snack and a little message of your own

bonus: it was also a great chance to finally break out your hoard of adorable stickers and notepads <3

your messages to each other got longer and longer; from just a few sentences wishing the other a lovely rest of the day, to short paragraphs telling each other little tidbits about yourselves and your week

you found out that they like tangerines (which made sense given the sticky notes they use), that they’re a journalism major, and that they like playing badminton and hanging out with their friends when they have free time <3 all of which you found completely endearing

seungkwan loves your notes with all his heart ;-; he honestly wasn’t expecting you to return the gesture, simply wanting to do something nice for someone who seemed like a fun person to be around, but the fact that you did has his heart racing and heat rushing to his cheeks

all his friends playfully teased him for how giddy he acted whenever he showed them your notes, but for once he didn’t really mind the teasing because he was far, far too whipped to care

lich rally bought a little folder to keep all your sticky notes so they wouldn’t get all crumpled in his bag <3 he reads them whenever he’s frustrated with something, because knowing you see him as a friend despite you two not even knowing each other cheers him up after a long day :(

you were having so much fun exchanging messages this way that it didn’t hit you until the second to last lecture that you’d potentially never get to genuinely know this incredibly sweet person in your class

and while you knew there was the chance of them not wanting to reveal themselves and preferring to leave this in the past once the semester ended, you still wanted to give it a shot ;-;

seungkwan’s hands were shaking a little as he read your note

you totally don’t have to agree if you’re not comfortable, but i’d love to meet you :’)

suddenly, he’s hit with a wave of self-doubt </3 it’s a lot easier to seem cool over paper or text or basically anything that didn’t involve spontaneous, on-the-spot situations, he’s not sure if you’d find him as interesting or fun to talk to once you got to know him irl :(((((

you didn’t hear from him that class, which made you a little sad, but you were ready to prepare yourself for the inevitable outcome that you’d never know who this person is and that this all would simply remain a fond memory in your uni life </3

the week leading up to the last lecture, all of seungkwan’s closest friends hyped him up so much 😞 they knew how much he liked you and from the notes you wrote back it was clear that you liked him just as much

after a lot of encouragement, he wrote you the final note and dropped it off at your table during the 10-minute break

let’s meet up after lecture today >< i’ll wait for you by the water dispensers outside the auditorium

to say you were vibrating with excitement after you read his note was an understatement

finally!!!! you get to find out who your mystery friend is!!!!!!!!

you could barely focus for the rest of the class, which wasn’t a huge deal anyways as the lecturer was simply going over the answers to your quiz

you kept glancing at the clock in the hall, at your watch, at the time on your laptop, then the time on your phone, eagerly counting down the minutes to the end of class

when your lecturer dismissed everyone, you were so nervous that you felt like you were going to throw up, for a split second you wondered if this was a good idea, but you ultimately decided to take a few deep breaths to compose yourself before heading outside

most of your classmates had already dispersed, not wanting to linger on campus for any longer after their last lecture of the day, so it was easy to narrow down who your mystery friend was

as you walked over to the water dispensers, you couldn’t help but think how it was almost too good to be true: standing next to the dispensers was a cute boy with the fluffiest hair and squishiest cheeks, wearing what looks like the softest sweater ever as he anxiously rocked back and forth on his heels

maybe this is a coincidence? maybe he isn’t the person you’re looking for but a cute guy who just so happened to be waiting for someone else?

all these questions brewing in your head were squashed when he gave you a shy smile as you drew closer, a quiet “hi” passing through his pretty lips

it was awkward, but not uncomfortably so

“are you…?” “the person who wrote you the notes? yeah, that’s me.”

you noticed how he wrung his hands together nervously as he confessed, and hoped that the warm smile you gave in return would be enough to reassure him

“it was so sweet of you to do that for me, thank you. i’m y/n, but you probably already knew that.”

he chuckles, cheeks still tinged a rosy pink, “yeah… i’m seungkwan.”

“well, seungkwan, i don’t have class after this anymore, so do you want to get lunch together?”

his eyes almost bugged out of his head at your invitation, but he quickly recovered and eagerly agreed, telling you he knew about this new place just outside campus that had really good sushi

you honestly couldn’t believe your luck: he was funny, sweet, and kind, and the two of you chatted like you’ve been friends for years as you ate, even going to get coffee together after because neither of you wanted your conversation to end <33 after a few more months of being friends and getting to know each other, he asked you out properly during one of your coffee shop study dates 💗

and now after almost two years of dating, the two of you still kept those notes from all those months ago in a little box tucked away safely in a desk drawer at your apartment

and when your friends asked you two if you were going to save them to show your future children, seungkwan merely responded with two playful, haughty words

“yeah, and?”

a/n: will proofread tmr bc it’s 3am rn and i have to get up for class in a few hours HWJSHAJ anyways waifey if ur reading this i hope you liked this :’))) 💗💗 ily a lot teehee kissies smooches

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 it tells content creators what you like and motivates them to keep creating for you <3

[flower-cage]

Laced

Tom Holland x Reader | smut (18+ only below the cut)

Summary: Entry for @worldoftom ’s writing challenge #lolbrosgetsicktoo. Based on the following prompt:

» NSFW! Tom has some tummy issues and misses y/n's bday party. He is feeling really sad about it, so after the party is over he video chats with her. She asks him if he'd like to see all the presents she got for her bday. He says yes. Turns out she also got some sexy lingerie. Cheeky Tom, now feeling a bit better, asks her if she can put them on for him to watch. And she does. note: it can be either sexy video chat time or 'i'll be over at yours in a bit, don't take that off’

Words: 1.3k.

Warnings: very explicit sexual language, heavy dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation.

“Hi, handsome,” you purred sweetly at your phone.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Tom smiled sleepily at you. His hair was sticking out in every direction and his naked chest had crease marks from having stayed in bed all day. You smiled softly when you thought about how cozy he looked right now. You had just finished tidying up downstairs. After winding down from the party, doing your skincare, and putting on your softest satin robe, your entire body tingled with the urge to cuddle right up against your warm boyfriend. You cuddled your pillow tighter instead.

“How are you feeling now?” You asked him sympathetically.

Tom had come down with a stomach bug not twelve hours before your birthday party, unfortunately. It had started as body ache and fatigue but quickly developed into violent vomiting. You had stopped at his place earlier in the afternoon to drop off medicine, mint tea, and some light, homemade soup. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t recovered by the time your party started. You could tell he looked well, however, not as pale and tired as he had looked before.

“So much better, love,” he said. “The tea you brought me really soothed my stomach and I was able to sleep and eat this afternoon.”

“That’s great, baby! I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”

“I missed you today, love,” Tom pouted, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “These things happen. Do you want to see the presents I got?”

“Yes!” He cheered. “Let’s see them.”

Excitedly, you gathered all boxes and bags and packages that your friends and family had brought to you and proceeded to show Tom your gifts. You pulled out gift cards, jewelry, clothes, and books. Tom smiled with love in his eyes as he watched you talk about your gifts and how much fun you had with your loved ones.

“Oh,” you exclaimed suddenly, “and Olivia got me some beautiful lingerie from the place she works at!” You waved the baby pink lace around in front of the camera and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wait!” He sat up against the headboard and licked his lips quickly. “Let me see it.”

You chuckled and set the pieces down on the bed. You sat up as well and positioned your phone on your nightstand so you could show off the pretty fabric with both hands. You picked first the bralette, holding it up with each of your pointer fingers hooked under each of the straps so Tom could see its shape perfectly. The lace was incredibly delicate and thin. Tom’s breathing picked up and his mouth watered at the thought of you wearing it. He thought about how your nipples would be visible right through the material. He thought about your hard nubs poking out in arousal. He thought about running his tongue over them, over the lace, sucking and wetting your brand new lingerie as you thrashed in pleasure under his mouth. And then you set the bra down and picked up the lacy thong the same way and Tom had to grope himself to relieve some pressure. His lips parted in awe. His eyes were dark and you chuckled at his aroused state.

“Holy shit, that’s tiny,” Tom breathed out gruffly. The lace on the panties matched the bralette’s and it was held together by the thinnest spaghetti straps he had ever seen. He was dying to see them stretched out over your hips. He squeezed his erection in his boxers once and groaned.

“You okay, baby?” You chuckled.

“No,” he groaned again. “Put that on for me, darling? Please?”

“Ooh,” you singsonged, “You want me to put on a little show?” You picked up the lingerie again and pulled off the tags. “But I thought I was the birthday girl?”

Smiling devilishly you sneaked a hand under your robe and pulled your underwear off, only to slowly slip the dainty thong up your smooth legs. You teased him, pulling the lace slowly and hiding it under your silky robe. You turned around then, sat on your knees with your back to him, and let the robe slide down your arms to pool around your waist. You let him watch your naked back as you put on the bra. Even though he was completely silent, you knew he was attentively watching your every move.

You turned your head to the side to glance at him over your shoulder and felt arousal shoot down your core at once. Tom had repositioned his phone to stand farther away but in between his legs. You could see him propped against the headboard, his naked chest rising and falling as he breathed raggedly, his abs clenching, and an impressive tent as his erection poked hard against the material of his boxers.

“Baby,” you purred seductively, “is that for me?” He groaned in response and grabbed and squeezed himself over his boxers.

“You know it is, darling,” he replied gruffly. In a quick movement, he removed his underwear completely, showing off his thick erection. It was your turn to drool. You wanted nothing more than to fall mouth-first right on his dripping cock. You watched hungrily as he took himself in hand and started to stroke slowly, lightly. “Turn around for me, love.”

You did turn around and untangled your robe to finally show him all that you had to offer. You ran your hands up and down your thighs, stroked the skin on your hips right underneath the straps of your thong, and up your torso until you cupped your breasts. Tom cursed and started stroking himself harder as you massaged your own breasts, getting more and more turned on. You pinched your nipples and moaned. He cursed again.

“Pull your tits out, darling,” he groaned, “let me see.” And you did it. You pulled the lacy cups down and continued to tease yourself. “Good girl,” Tom moaned, “so good- ah.”

His praise and the wet noises of the frantic movements of his hands were driving you insane. Your whole body was burning in arousal and you couldn’t help but slide a hand down your body and into your panties.

“Yeah, darling,” he murmured, “play with your wet little clit for me.” His hand was flying over his erection now. He was incredibly wet too and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “You love watching this cock get wet for you don’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, your own hand working fast on your pussy.

“I know you do, darling. You love sitting on it too. Always want to sit on it, every chance you get.”

“Fuck, Tommy!” You cried. “I want it so bad.”

“God,” he groaned, “I’m not gonna last. Get on all fours for me, darling. I want to see your ass swallow that tiny piece of lace you’ve got on.”

You turned around like he requested. Then, you arched your back, spread your knees apart, and slid down onto the bed slowly so he could see the thong slide up between your pussy lips. You heard his moans get louder and the pleasure it elicited in you had you grinding your throbbing core on the sheets.

“Holy, shit,” he panted, “you’re unreal, love. I’m gonna come- ah, fuck - and then I’m gonna drive over there and absolutely rail that hungry pussy.”

And then he came on a loud moan and you turned your head to see him shoot up and onto his own hand. You watched attentively as his cock spurted white all over his abs. You were about to express how badly you wanted to lick him clean when he sprung from bed in earnest and grabbed his phone.

“I’ll be there in fifteen. Keep my pussy wet for me, love.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None for this chap Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Sure, your soulmate may be a vampire (of sorts), but there's nothing that love can't conquer, right?... Maybe it's time you learn a little more about the odd circumstances of your soulmate's existence- and the fear that lies beneath the surface. Notes: If the last chapter was "hurt" followed by comfort, this is "comfort" followed by hurt, also known as the part where the story's central conflict comes into play. Features an appearance from Daniela, who reminds us that Cassandra's not the only one with a sharp tongue around here. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands, 3: Rumbling Thunder

4: That Which Burns

“Of all the stars, the fairest,” Bela murmurs in your ear, keeping her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, before giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have now done so. You’re leaning into her touch, face flushed as can be, loving every moment of this. For a while now you’ve been curled up with her, while she reads excerpts from her favorite works. Although both of you would have preferred to do this outside, enjoying the view of the stars, you figured it would be best not to push your health too much. After all, you had lost a huge percentage of your blood. Well, temporarily, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s probably my favorite line from Sappho,” you chimed, fondly remembering some of your schooling. “Though the one about being remembered always stands out to me. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, and I’m sure it’s been translated a few different ways over the years… but I think it’s ‘someone, I tell you, will remember us in another time’. Might have gotten that backwards, actually.” Giving an awkward little smile, you sheepishly rub the back of your head with one hand. “Either way it feels so romantic. To think of a love so strong that it echoes throughout time, fondly remembered for generations… it warms the heart.”

“Mhmm, most definitely, my dear. Many aren’t as lucky, however,” Bela laments, an odd expression crawling onto her face. There’s the slightest waver to her lower lip as she speaks. Concerned, you turn in place to get a better look, gently reaching out to caress her cheek. Is there something I’m missing? You think, wondering what you should say. “I’m alright, I promise. Merely distracted by a fleeting thought. Let’s read another, yes?” Before you can protest, she’s already turned to another page, starting to read as if she already knew which one was next (which would not, at all, surprise you).

Love shook my heart, Like the wind on the mountain, Troubling the oak-trees

“Oh, if only I could speak Aeolic Greek, so that I could serenade you with tender prose, all the days of your life… just as it was originally written. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Bela offers, once again smiling wide, as if nothing in the world was wrong, at least not when you were by her side. Though you are not keen to ignore her earlier stroke of misery, you are equally reluctant to put a damper on her current upswing. Now what were you to do? Little comes to mind, other than the simplicity of human warmth, and so you lean once more into her embrace, head held aloft on the strength of her shoulder.

“Here, as I am now, is more than lovely enough. Your voice is soothing in any language, sweet as sugar, relaxing as can be,” you reassure her in your softest tone. Heart fluttering, she finds herself easing back into the comfort of the moment, forgetting all about her earlier woes. “Shall we read another?” Nodding, Bela again turns the page and begins to read:

He’s equal with the gods, that man Who sits across from you, Face to face, close enough to sip Your voice’s sweetness

And what excites my mind, Your laughter, glittering. So, When I see you, for a moment, My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire, Delicate fire, in the flesh. Blind, stunned, the sound Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold Tremors over the skin, I turn the colour of dead grass, And I’m an inch from dying.

“Does that make me equal to the gods, then?” You ask, as soon as the last line is given its moment to shine. A small hum comes from your soulmate, who seems equal parts intrigued and confused. “I look in your eyes and my lungs light on fire, my heart ricochets around my chest, and I hear the chorus of angels singing your holy praises. The fact that I can manage to speak at all is confounding. Maybe the muses have seen fit to lend me their artistry, so that I might make conversation worthy of your existence, my dear.” With that said, you find yourself being squeezed gently, Bela placing another kiss against the top of your head. Now, it seems she is the one without the ability to speak. “The divine witnessing the divine, yes?... Let me read the next one, and we’ll see if my voice could ever compare to your own.”

It’s innocent enough, your choice. A turn of the page, just another poem, selected for nothing more than respect for chronology. Yet something drains from the space around you as you begin to read, so subtly slow that you hardly notice.

Girls, you be ardent for the fragrant-blossomed Muses’ lovely gifts, for the clear melodious lyre: But now old age has seized my tender body, Now my hair is white, and no longer dark

How were you to realize that the great shadow of fear loomed over your soulmate, when she had refused to name it mere minutes ago? How were you to know to halt your reciting, when the aching of her heart rendered her throat dry, and she could not bring herself to call out to you? Words poured like poisoned wine from your lips… your soulmate having no choice but to drink up every last drop.

My heart’s heavy, my legs won’t support me, That once were fleet as fawns, in the dance I grieve often for my state; what can I do? Being human, there’s no way not to grow old

A shaky breath from age-old lungs, exhaled into tense air, forced out past a trembling jaw. Say something, Bela tells herself, any poem but this. For a split second you pause, and she wonders if her thoughts have found new light in your own mind. But you break the momentary silence without much care, simply having been unsure of your pending pronunciation of an old name, perfectly unaware of your partner’s panic.

Rosy-armed Dawn, they say, love-smitten Once carried Tithonus off to the world’s end: Handsome and young he was then, yet at last Grey age caught that spouse of an immortal wife

At last her ordeal was over. The final words hang heavy in the air, weighing down her shoulders, but they are done. Her fears had been dragged out from the pit in her stomach, now waving about like dirty laundry. There was only one way for her to avoid this happening another time: Tell you the truth. By now her silence had earned your attention, with you turning in her lap again, concerned gaze meeting her hollow one. Gently, she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I… am not one to balk at the nature of things, however painful the truth. Yet I hesitate now, with the very person I am bound to with crimson ties… How cowardly of me,” Bela all but snarls, anger clearly not directed at you. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself that she has more to say. There’s not much you can do other than wait, though you do tuck an arm around her waist, beginning to rub soft circles against her back. “Allow me to drop the pretenses. You are not immortal, but I am. We’ve only been together for a day and a half, and already I’m worrying about your lifespan. It’s safe to say that this particular poem was an unfriendly reminder of our situation.”

Oh. How exactly were you supposed to respond to that?... Your girlfriend- your soulmate- was immortal. Hmph, as if her essentially being a vampire hadn’t already been enough to freak you out. Now this? Well, maybe it wasn’t too much farther of a stretch from the last revelation, even if you were still recovering from that one. Even then, something told you that this was equally hard for Bela- both to say, and to simply feel. As if she needed more stress surrounding her partnership with you…

“Of all the ways for us to mimic legends… I don’t even know what to say, my dear. I… I suppose that I can only reassure you that we will make the most of every moment we have. However much time we are destined to get, we’ll make sure it is filled with bliss,” you reply, slowly, making it up as you go. An ache builds in the center of your chest as you talk, an internal yearning for greater confidence. Although words were your “weapon” of choice, you were not always a master in your use of them, too human to be infallible. “Maybe we should set aside the poetry for now, shift our focus to something, ah, less meaningful?”

“That would be for the best,” Bela agrees, already shifting like she was going to stand up, before you even had a chance to get off of her lap. Something strange had fallen over her expression, an invisible veil, putting an uncomfortable distance between the two of you. Inside your chest, a thundering heart threatens to go still. Had you done something wrong? Did you commit some unspoken sin? Together the two of you rise, in sync yet more separate than before, a thousand questions and anxieties rendering both of you silent...

—————————

Across the room from you, a pair of bright eyes watch your every movement, peering out from over an open book. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that the “ruse” was intentionally poor. But for all the five hours you had known her, Daniela Dimitrescu had done nothing other than prove herself odd, clumsy, and quite possibly… overconfident. Admittedly, that still made her undeniably more pleasant than Cassandra. If you had to be stuck alongside someone other than your soulmate, well, ‘twas best that it was this strange redheaded gremlin. Even if she had expressed an unfortunate interest in eating you.

Gods, what is wrong with this family? You think, frowning a tad, unable to stop yourself from making eye contact with Daniela. Instantly she’s looking away, pretending to be engrossed within her book. The very same book that had remained open to the same page for half an hour now. I do hope Bela is having more fun right now, with whatever “business” called her away so unexpectedly. She hadn’t seemed happy to have to leave your side, earlier tension notwithstanding. Coming here to the library had been her suggestion, though you doubted she knew that Daniela was there, or at least hadn’t anticipated her sister’s unnerving behavior. Already the redhead was looking back at you, even less subtly than before.

Sighing, you decided that you could only put up with so much of this tomfoolery.

“Are you in need of something? Or is there something on my face?” You ask, setting your own book aside as you do. There’s a few moments of silence, as Daniela glances around the room, as if you might actually be speaking to someone else. When no scapegoats teleport to her rescue, she very awkwardly clears her throat, then moves to sit at your table. Though you are loath to admit it, your heart starts beating faster as she approaches. Not out of attraction, hell no, rather fear. Perhaps getting her attention hadn’t been the wisest choice after all…

“I just think it’s funny,” Daniela chimes, trailing off just long enough to run a finger down the length of your arm, “that Bela abandoned you so quickly. You’re so… fragile. Cassandra told me about the fun little introduction you had to our family- the blood loss, being chained up, the fear you felt when you got caught in our territory.” Suddenly she’s devolving into a fit of giggles, hand resting not-so-gently on your wrist. When you try to pull away, her nails dig in, and her gaze snaps back to your own. “But you don’t remember that part, do you? If you did… oh, we’d have to lock you up, like the little pet you are, to keep you from running away. I’m sure Bela wouldn’t mind seeing you in chains.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You snap, uncharacteristically furious. While it was true that you couldn’t recall exactly how you made it into the castle’s dungeons, you refuse to accept Daniela’s implications about your soulmate, or her assessment of your dedication. A brief second passes where you think she’s about to lunge towards you. Instead, she withdraws her hand, moving it to prop up her chin instead. Then, her lips slowly drag upwards into a wicked grin, wide eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

“So you’re more than a wannabe Shakespeare, after all? A bit more teeth, a touch more vulgarity, maybe a twinge of bloodlust, and you might actually fit in around here. Not enough to get our family’s ‘gift’- our secret to a long, happy life- but enough that Bela won’t grow bored of your sappy poems,” she teases with another string of laughter. Before you can question her about this ‘gift’, she’s all but jumping to her feet, stretching out her arms as she does. “I can’t wait to update Cassandra about you. We’ll be betting on how entertaining you’ll end up being. Try to keep from bailing on my dear sister too soon, alright?”

Just like that she’s disappearing into a swarm of flies, leaving you more confused (and angry) than ever. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on what you need to do next: Find Bela. Talk to her. Get some goddamn answers.

[maseshine]

Oii! Você poderia fazer a fic da música "You Belong With Me" com o Ben? :)

Right for you, Ben Chilwell

Prompt: You being his best friend and at karaoke singing "You Belong With Me" to him indirectly.

Warning: Disappointment, Sadness

Words: 1811

Notes: I was really excited to write this one. It's one of my favorite prompts and I already had it written, I don't know if that's how you imagined it, but I hope you like it a lot because I loved it so much🤍

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

Being in love with your best friend is one of life's biggest clichés.  And sometimes it really hurt to see him and his "perfect girlfriend".

You sure as hell wouldn't have gone to karaoke if you knew she'd be there too.  Ben was perceptive in hiding it from you.  Really insightful.

You tried to keep your attention on Mason's out-of-tune presentation, but his eyes always seemed to betray you when they landed on the couple sitting across from you.

━ If you keep looking at them like that they'll think you're a maniac.  ━ Christian said giving his shoulder a little push.

━ I don't know what you're talking about.  ━ You changed the conversation.

━ And Mason can sing well.  ━ The brunette joked.  ━ We already know of his crush on Chilly, only he doesn't seem to notice it.

━ Or he knows and just doesn't talk about it because he doesn't feel the same way about me. ━  His voice came out dismayed, and Christian looked at her sympathetically.

━ If he doesn't notice, maybe he's not right for you, Y/N.

You didn't say anything else, Christian's words running through your head.  Maybe he was right.  She and Ben had been best friends for years, but maybe they couldn't be more than that.

━ Our next singer is Y/N  Y/L/N.  ━ You looked at the stage with surprise, you didn't put her name in the performance list.

His eyes fell on Mason who smiled innocently.  Motherfucker.  The boys made noise encouraging you to go on stage.  You took a deep breath before getting up from the table.

Your hands shook a little as you took the presenter's microphone.  His eyes scanned the available songs, stopping at one that fit his situation perfectly.  His ears picked up the beginning of the melody.

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

She's going off about something that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your mood like I do

━ Babe... baby!  Come on, please calm down and listen to me!  ━ You heard Ben plead in the next room, your phone pressed firmly to his ear as he tried to reason with his current girlfriend.  All you knew was that he had shown his sincere side - apparently, not everyone knew he didn't have a filter.

But you knew the athlete more than anyone else, and he might need to stop and pull himself together occasionally, but it all came from his heart.

You were brought back to reality when you heard Ben grunt, dropping the phone against the table and running a hand through his hair.  You looked at him with sad eyes, reaching out and placing your hand over his so gently.

━ Want to talk about it, Chill?  ━ You asked him, watching as the corner of his lips twitched into a small smile with the nickname you gave him.

━ I don't believe you can save me from this situation, Y/N.  ━ Ben manages to say, clearing his throat to help transition into a new conversation.

You didn't want to push it any further - knowing that if Ben was comfortable enough, he would talk to you.  Hell, he told you everything.  Maybe it was because the two of you grew up together, so he had to hit puberty much faster.

Ben got undeniably hot fast, all the girls at his old high school noticed that.  You were about to ask him if he'd like to watch a movie, but his ringing phone interrupted, making you keep your mouth shut for now.

Ben suddenly straightened before grabbing the screen, a hopeful look flashing in his eyes as his girlfriend's name was projected in capital letters and a series of heart emojis.  You rolled your eyes with a small smile and gestured for him to take the call, swallowing your pride seconds after he left the room.  You left the house not long afterward, knowing you probably won't see your childhood friend for at least another week.

Walk in the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself

Hey, isn't this easy?

You kicked a few pebbles off the path as you walked, with Ben by your side.  It felt strange for the two of you to be together – but a strangely comfortable stranger, as if life was supposed to be like that.

He was trying to chat a little about the weather, which quickly turned into a funny story of how he fell face first in the rain during last Friday's football game.

Her eyes were mesmerized by him as he threw his head back in laughter, his hands maneuvering in strange ways as he portrayed how the event actually happened.  You returned his laugh as you placed your hand on his bicep to steady yourself, little snorts following after.

━ I can't believe you still do that. ━  Ben said, his hand briefly resting on top of hers to hold her against him.  You raised your eyebrows in sync with the corners of your mouth, your laugh dwindling to a small laugh.

━ Do what?  You'll have to elaborate, Chilly.  ━ With his free hand, Ben lightly tapped the tip of his nose while smiling at his nonchalance.

━ That cute snort you make when you laugh too much.  I hadn't heard this since we saw Madders get stuck in the invisible wall of tape.

The memory provoked her to put her hand to her forehead as she chuckled her iconic laugh once more, remembering poor James' shocked expression as he recovered from the seemingly transparent 'door' and the few seconds that followed where he was frozen trying to understand what had just happened.

━ This is definitely the sound of joy.  ━ Ben said as he looked at you, just for you to poke him playfully.

Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're about to cry

The end of the week approached faster than expected, especially since you spent most of your time pretending you didn't get Ben's text messages.

You needed time to pull yourself together and organize your priorities, and having him suddenly want you back in his life was an unexpected twist.  You've always had a stupid crush on Ben, but unlike the vast majority of girls who did, yours started when you were both young ━ when you had just gotten rid of the braces, and he had already started playing for a football team for the first time.

It was Friday night, and you had just curled up under the sheets, trying to get comfortable as an oncoming storm began to form outside.  Your phone was constantly indicating that you had a new message, but it was just Ben asking if you were going to the football game tonight.  Like the other messages, you ignored it and continued your favorite show on Netflix.

It was midnight when your phone woke you, realizing that you must have accidentally fallen asleep.  You could barely hear the phone ring due to the weight of the rain outside, but you answered anyway, surprised to hear a familiar, desperate voice on the other end of the line.

━ Y/N… I'm down here�� me, something happened.  I didn't know where to go... I just drove, and I ended up here... something in me, I needed to see you.  Let me in, please.

He looked distressed, perhaps because he was crying.  You went down to the front door and opened it carefully, suddenly coming face to face with a saturated Ben Chilwell.  You reached out and dragged him inside, your eyes scanning his wet, shivering body.

━ Ben... you're freezing, you're going to get sick.  ━ You exclaimed as softly as you could,  not letting go of his hand, as you led him to your room.

You gestured for him to stay put before grabbing a clean towel from the bathroom, running back and closing the door before wrapping it around your shoulders.  You sat on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of you, seeming to have something to say, but couldn't think of how to start the conversation.

━ Why are you here?  ━ You finally said after a long period of silence, Ben's eyes strayed to the ground.  He cleared his throat a few times before realizing he was just whispering.

━ I saw Charlie with one of the Aston Villa players.  She was on top of him.  I... I asked her what the hell was going on, she basically said I wasn't good enough. Do you believe that? ━ He said exasperated, his hands pulling at her wet hair as it stuck to her forehead.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you took in this information, able to feel Ben's pain from where she sat.  But it wasn't a new pain, it was like it was the kind that was finally released after being repressed for too long.  As if it knew it was coming and would hold out until the dreaded day.

You pursed your lips and rose from the bed, standing right in front of him before taking his wrists and pulling them down between the two of you, your thumbs gently stroking the skin of his knuckles.

━ But why are you here?  At home?  You could have gone to Mase or called Madders.  ━ You muttered, hoping his tone of voice would calm you down.

Those eyes you fell in love with as a teenager were looking at you, taking in your details, your passion, your heart.  They were kind, just like you always knew he was.

━ Something attracted me to you, as if I was destined to be here. Do you know?  ━ He spoke so low you could barely hear him, but you could hear him clearly.

Were you obsessing over him by running out of words, confused as to what he was trying to say – was it a confession of love or some pity plea because you were the only one who cared?  You nodded your head to understand what he was saying, feeling your own radiance toward him for a long time.

A week later, he had returned to his girlfriend.

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor

All this time, how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

His eyes traveled to the table where all his friends were sitting, everyone paying attention to his presentation.  Except Ben and his girlfriend.  A pang of pain whistled through her heart.  At Christian's words coming back to her mind.

If he doesn't notice, maybe he's not right for you Y/N.

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You belong with me

Maybe Ben didn't belong to you.  Not how you wanted it.

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[kodzukyan]

two hearts, four broken pieces (now we’re unbreakable)

notes: happiest belated birthday to my grand king <3 lots of (long?) dialogue, long talks at the beach, kinda clunky, but i hope you enjoy :> song accompaniment recommendation: unbreakable by lauren dyson (carole & tuesday) & everything i need by skylar grey! also posted on ao3.

summary: you were there like the air when i felt like i was underwater. AU in which you have matching birthmarks on your heart as your soulmate. - oikawa/oc

wc: 6.2k

The clock ticks continually as you finish reviewing the club budget for the upcoming school year. As the last rays of the sun begin to dim into a darkening blue, the clock rings loudly, signaling the end of club activities. The other student council members routinely leave by five, and after a quick goodbye and wave, two hours pass by without you knowing. You glance at your watch, and you sigh softly as you see the shorthand reach seven.

There are still numbers that do not add up, but you suppose that has to wait. Getting up to stretch, you automatically head to the keys cabinet to see which keys are still missing. As usual, the keys to the volleyball gym have yet to be returned.

Like any other day, you sigh again. This is a rather normal occurrence as the volleyball team tends to stay as late as you do. Normally, you don't mind since it’s not a big deal - you’re usually still here to lock up after they leave. Today, however, you’re rather exhausted and would like to finish up your report and just go home. Putting on your white blazer and patting down the wrinkles of your tan skirt, you make certain you’re presentable before you head out of the room and towards the volleyball gym.

A resounding smack reverberates through the air before you even enter the gym. You knock twice on the gym doors, and when there is no answer, you open the doors soundlessly and enter the gym. The gym is unoccupied except for one lone player, making the echoes of each movement louder. 

He doesn’t notice you, and as you see him jump to hit a serve, you are in awe by the strength and impact of it as it lands. It astonishes you a little to discover the normally flirty eyes and teasing smiles with such intense concentration and seriousness. When you see a faint smile on his face as his serve lands within the lines of the court, you wonder if this is what he really is like. As he recovers another ball to try again, you clear your throat. This time, you catch his attention, somewhat.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan! You don’t have to wait for me. I’m almost done!” he calls out, eyes never leaving the court.

“Sorry, Oikawa-san. I am not Iwaizumi-san. While I do have to say I am extremely impressed with your tenacity, I am afraid it's late and time for you to go home,” you say politely with a perfectly practiced smile on your face.

The ball he tossed into the air previously drops straight down onto the floor and bounces as he hears your voice. He jerks his head towards you, and you almost want to laugh when you see his gaping mouth.

“Oh, Pres-chan! I wasn’t expecting you!” he recovers swiftly, a hand behind his head and his tongue sticking out humorously.

Ah, he’s back to his normal self.

“Apologies again,” you nod, a courteous smile never leaving your face, despite your slight disdain for your new nickname. You’ve learned it is easiest to deal with people with a perfect smile, lips upturned slightly at a 45-degree angle and eyes crinkled together lightly.

He stares at you intensely as you smile. While his eyes are analytical enough to press anyone under, it doesn’t bother you because you are used to such scrutiny.

“I’ll pack up! Pres-chan, wait for me! I’ll walk you home since it’s so late.” He finally softens in his stares and begins picking up the balls around the court.

“No need to worry about me, Oikawa-san. There are still some matters for me to finish up at the student council room,” you assure him courteously despite your mild annoyance at your stray strand of hair that fell out of your neat ponytail as you tuck it behind your ear.

“No, no! I insist! It’s so late, so it’s dangerous for cute girls like you, Pres-chan!” he protests as he continues cleaning.

You begin assisting him to pick up the balls and grab the mops to clean up the gym. The more hands there are, the faster you two get to leave. After cleaning up the gym and returning the keys to the student council room, you continue to decline his offer of walking you home. Being around him for a little less than 30 minutes has already tired you, but you find it more draining to talk him out of it so you just relent.

He accompanies you back to your house at your pace, constantly filling the silence with some sort of conversation. He seems to recognize your need for distance, so he keeps the conversation light, never diving in deeper than what you are willing to give. You respond as amiable as you could with this surface-level sort of conversation. This is comfortable, this is straightforward, this is not about who you are, so you find it easy to keep up your practiced smile and pleasantry. 

For what it’s worth, you can understand why he’s so popular. He’s attractive, and his personality is tolerable enough. But something about him is slightly unpleasant to you. You have an inkling of what it is, but you’re not ready to open the tightly sealed jar of emotions yet.

When you reach your stop and he bids you goodbye, you find yourself face to face with your cousin, who just squeals and questions you.

“Who is he?” she exclaims loudly, far too energetic for so late at night. “What if he is your soulmate?!”

You smile tersely, “He is just a classmate.”

She only looks at you in confusion. “Eh? You never know! Did you already see his mark?”

You flash her a practiced smile as you excuse yourself.

“No, I was born without one.” 

---

You like routine. This is something you’ve established for as long as you remember. If things are set in place, set in stone, then they are less likely to fall apart, to break.

So when walking home with Oikawa Tooru stays as a recurring part of your days, it makes you uneasy.

This is not part of your normal routine. But you suppose him returning the volleyball gym keys instead of you wrestling him for them is also not part of your normal routine.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re kind of dumb."

You finally look up from your papers. Your pen still in hand, eyes in disbelief, and voice laced with venom as you hiss, “Excuse me?”

“Pres-chan, even I know when to stop. It's nearly 8 in the evening. Your body needs rest so you can function as efficiently as you always want to,” he rolls his eyes as he air-quotes the word efficiently. The volleyball gym keys jingle in his hand as he does so, and the sound of it aggravates your headache.

"This is coming from the one who stays behind two hours every day after club activity ends? Stop trying to preach what you don’t practice." Your grip on your pen tightens.

"I take Mondays off," he shrugs and offers a lopsided smile. There's a serious glint in his eyes despite his casual gestures.

You know he's right because the keys to the volleyball club always hang neatly and untouched every Monday. You know he's right when you finally let yourself feel the tiredness in your body. You know he's right when your headache finally catches up to you, but you simply cannot completely let go.

Maybe he sees your sagging shoulders and weary eyes, so he doesn't press the matter anymore. He hangs the clubroom keys in the cabinet before he walks over.

"You can rest, you know?"

You do, but you can't. Not when there are so many reports to fill out and papers to file, not when the club budgeting still isn't adding up, not when you have to be the you that your father created inside his head. Your brows cease together as your head throbs. Before you could respond, you feel a gentle pat on your head that brings you out of your thoughts.

"You're doing great, Pres-chan. Take a break," he speaks softly as he strokes your head.

You close your eyes at his touch, and you relish in his gentleness. For someone with such calloused hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. His voice sounds distant, and it feels like he's speaking past you, like he's speaking to whoever he sees in place of you. You think maybe this is what you needed anyways, this is what you want to hear even if he’s speaking to himself through you.

"Take a nap. I'll wake you up in 20 minutes," he ruffles your hair, messing up your perfectly tied ponytail.

You glance at him briefly, and his stupid smile irritates you. Maybe your headache is getting the better of you, maybe you’re just too tired, but you find yourself nodding as your shoulders finally drop in defeat. "10 minutes."

He laughs as he agrees, and when you finally lay your head down and close your eyes, you briefly feel the warmth of his jersey before you drift off.

When you wake, you find that Oikawa is sitting beside you, humming a soft tune as he scrolls on his phone. It takes you a moment to blink the sleep out of your eyes, and then it occurs to you that he never woke you up. Your eyes flutter to the clock, and when you see that it's a little past 9, you panic. You shoot instantly up from your seat, and your sudden movement leaves you dizzy as the world around you rapidly spins in color. Oikawa stops mid-hum as looks up from his phone before he secures your arm to steady you.

"Holy shit, I thought I told you to wake me up in 10 minutes. The papers need to be filed so we can work on the report due next week. I need to finish the reports, so I can turn them in on Friday. The budgeting excel -."

"Pres-chan." He cuts you off as he takes his hand off your arm and pokes your forehead. "I filed the papers on your desk. They go into their respective color-coded drawers, right? And the reports are just club updates, yeah? I arranged them by club type, so you can just sort through them later. Also, I put the volleyball club on top, so get to us first, okay?" he teases lightly and sticks his tongue out mischievously. "I didn't mess with your budgeting excel because it's not my place to, but don't you think you can ask your treasurer to explain their budgeting and money management so far?"

You blink at him in silence as you take in all the information he told you. You glance over at your desk and see the piles of loose paper gone. In place are new stacks of reports clipped together with the assortment of pastel paper clips you brought last month on a whim. Your surprise overtakes you as you let out a shaky breath. 

"Oh," you whisper, breath still quivering and voice slightly trembling. "Thank you."

You make a mental note to double-check everything again in the morning, just in case. That thought almost flies out of your head when you glance over, and the smile he flashes you is so bright you almost forget how to breathe.

"You're welcome."

When he accompanies you home that night, your steps feel a little lighter and your heart soars a little higher as you catch a glimpse of his profile, eyes fixated on the stars above as he tells you stories of constellations and aliens. 

---

While you’re not an avid volleyball fan, witnessing their defeat to Karasuno in such a close match, watching the light in their eyes dim into a quiet somber crush on your heart. When the match was over and they asked for the keys to the gym, you gave it to them without hesitation although the gym is supposed to be closed for cleaning later today.

Throughout the hours, you find yourself unable to completely focus on the paperwork in front of you. Your eyes keep trailing to the empty key slot where the gym keys are supposed to be, and your ears are fixated on each tick of the clock. Fidgeting with your pen, you finally give in and let out an uneven sigh when the clock rings eight. After smoothing out your skirt and blazer and retying your neat ponytail, you make your way to the gym.

As always, you knock on the doors before coming in. Only silence greets you.

The gym is vacant, and the cheering crowds and rest of the volleyball team members have long gone home after their spontaneous practice. Volleyballs are still scattered everywhere, the net is still up, but none of that matters as your eyes focus on the lone figure lingering in this solemn, almost crushing, silence.

His eyes are downcast, but you can tell from the hitching movement of his chest and the pooling puddle in his lap that he hasn't stopped crying. There is so much you want to tell him, but no words come to you. You’re not even sure if you’re in a position to say anything, but when you see him sitting there defeated and crying silently, a split image of yourself instead of him appears for a moment. The tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve repeatedly tried to suppress opens.

"You don't have to be perfect, you know?" you tell him softly.

He doesn't look up and only clenches his fists.

You pat the creases out of your skirt as you squat down, hands gently touching his before clasping them firmly. The words burn in the back of your throat as your eyes tear because you know. You know this feeling, this absolutely crushing feeling when all you have is taken away and you’re just left with nothing. Maybe you’re projecting your failures onto him, maybe this is just what you wanted to hear, but you tell him all the same.

"You're so much more than just your losses," you whisper with gentle firmness, "This is not the end. Not for you. Not for your volleyball."

His calloused hands only grip yours tightly as his silent tears fall and roll off your skin.

"You are not your failures."

You barely detect the sound of him letting out a deep breath, but he squeezes your hands. It may not be enough, it may not be okay, but it’s a start.

As the two of you sit in silence, you can merely laugh at yourself for ever thinking Oikawa Tooru was anywhere close to perfect. He is incredibly fragile, human, and unlike a star that you thought you could never reach, he is here beside you. He sniffles every so often, and when every so often becomes more often than not, you laugh lightly and offer him a tissue.

He accepts it with a sniffle, and as he blows his nose, you could only crinkle your nose.

“Ew, you’re gross,” you lightly poke fun at him.

“I was going to say thank you, but I take it back now,” he gasps dramatically.

You roll your eyes as you offer him the rest of your tissues. “It’s fine. I don’t need your thanks. Just… feel better.”

“Thank you,” he whispers anyway as he props his head on yours.

---

You hear three knocks, two fast knocks, a pause as if it’s left for drastic effects, before the third knock, in a familiar rhythm. Instantly, the wooden doors of the student council room open, and brown hair and honey-colored eyes peek in.

“Wanna do something fun with me, Pres-chan?” Oikawa asks, eyes brilliant and smile equally mischievous.

"... Depends on what it is," you raise an eyebrow at him as you look up from finishing some preparations for university. You've substantially given up trying to advise him to wait before barging into the student council room.

He wiggles his eyebrows before he grins. “Let’s go to the rooftop!"

It takes you a moment to comprehend what he said because while it’s not that crazy, the rooftop is off-limits to students. Subsequently, it occurs to you that out of your three years here, you've under no circumstances done anything remotely rebellious. The adrenaline hits you, so you snatch the keys to the rooftop before heading out the door.

"Alright, let's go."

He freezes before his mouth drops and gasps dramatically. "Heh, Pres-chan, looks like you really aren't that much of a good girl after all."

You roll your eyes at him, and a soft smile finds a way to your face before you walk out. "Hurry up, or I'm leaving you behind."

"Wait for me!!" You hear the scampering footsteps, and you swear you can hear his pout.

This is the first time you’ve ever been on the rooftop, you think, as you finally unlock the door and step out into the sun. It’s a little past seven, and you think the sun is going to set soon as it slowly fades behind the Miyagi skylines in bursts of orange. You close your eyes as the wind blows, almost as if it’s greeting you. You can see why people skip all the time to be up here. 

“Feels pretty good, huh?” Oikawa stands beside you as the wind tousles his hair and the sun kisses his skin. He looks radiant under the sunlight, and you merely hope he doesn’t hear the fluttering of your heart.

“Yeah,” you nod along, “I… I wish I came up here earlier.

Honey brown eyes so deep and warm, staring directly at you, and there is something that you’re terrified to name. You always thought love was something dramatic, once in a lifetime, and it just hits you like a train out of nowhere. With Oikawa Tooru, it feels more like learning to walk - steadily, one step after another, until he becomes a part of your natural routine.

You can see the longing and something akin to love in his eyes, but you know it's not love. You know when he loves, he loves with all his being. Right now, there is something, but it's not love because he sees not only you but also past you. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel, the future where he's standing on a volleyball court with his name on the back of a national team jersey. He sees the passion and the love he has for volleyball beyond you, and even when he's here in the moment, even when he likes you, he sees something greater.

Your heart clenches because you want it to be you, you want you, this to be enough. But you know he is meant for something so much greater. He is meant for the stage lights of an international court, living and thriving with so much passion and love for the sport he dedicates his life to. He is unmeant to be here, to be held back by something called love.

You try ignoring the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, try ignoring the way his eyes linger at your lips as if he wants to kiss you. You try ignoring your yearning heart when all you can hear in your head is him telling you he's going to Argentina.

“You’re going to do great in Argentina.” You swallow the lump in your throat and interlace your own fingers together to prevent yourself from reaching out and holding his hand.

He blinks, and slowly retracts his extended hand, and swallows the words he wants to tell you. “Oh, uhm,” he hesitates. “Geez, Pres-chan! Don’t make it sound like we’re never going to see each other again!” he pouts dramatically, voice creaking just ever so slightly and eyes lacking the playful glint in it. “We’ll see each other again.”

He sounds hesitant, almost as if he’s doubtful if he can uphold the words of a promise. He doesn’t deserve to be held back by a promise.

You let him go.

It’s funny because you don’t even think he is yours to let go, but you smile anyway as you catch his unfaltering eyes back on the sunset. He is the one who teaches you a little bit about being okay, the one who first opens the tightly sealed jar and lets a gale of fresh air into your world.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly. Your hand finds its way to him, fingertips ghosting over his hand almost as if you didn’t just reject his moments ago.

The wind blows softly, and the blooming cherry blossoms flutter as he blinks in confusion before he smiles crookedly too. In a world where you are braver, you would have voiced the three words lingering on your mind instead of the two that came out, and your lips would have been on his instead of settling for a ghost of a touch of hands. But in this world, this is all you can do, all you can intend for.

Instead, the two of you continue to stand in silence, sharing this one last moment where he can stand on both legs without leaning to his left to accommodate for his right knee, where you can laugh in a loose smile and ruffled hair without feeling the need to fix them. It’s satisfactory, you tell yourself, this is enough.

While he may not be your soulmate, while you have no soulmate mark, it hurts all the same. Your heart still breaks as the falling sunlight fades into the deep indigo skies, as he waves goodnight, as you watch him go with the world on his shoulders and wings on his back. The hollowness in your chest aches, and you wonder if this is what heartbreak feels like.

---

“Funny, huh? Out of all the people in the world, out of all the places in the world, I end up meeting you on an Argentinian beach, thousands of miles away from home,” you stifle your laughter softly.

The hot summer wind blows into your unbound hair, bringing grains of sand and the scent of the ocean. The shore calls you, and you find yourself wiggling your toes in the clear waters. As you look to the horizon, you find that the crystalline waters contrast vividly against the soft pinks and oranges of the fading sun.  It’s so surreal, and it makes you momentarily forget that there are responsibilities, people waiting for you back at home. 

The faint rustling and the loud splash of water wake you from your trance, and you find Oikawa Tooru running into the waters carefreely. His pants are roughly rolled up just barely above the water level. His eyes are tender and his smile is wide as he holds his hand out to you.

“Come on, Pres-chan,” he gestures his hand in front of you again. “The water feels really nice!”

You take a moment to breathe because he looks beautiful with his brown eyes twinkling mischievously and lips upturned jovially and carefreely against the fleeting sunset. You smile once more, lips upturn softly instead of the traditional 45 degrees, as the last strands of your hair frees from your hair tie. 

You briefly remember being eighteen, standing on the rooftop of your high school. His hand is extended, but you were too afraid to take it, too afraid to become a burden. You blink once and think maybe this time, he should have a say in his own decisions instead of you selfishly making it for him. You take his hand, hesitantly and shyly, as you take your first steps into the water.

Time stills as your eyes meet his brown ones. He stares at you dumbfoundedly, and you are unsure if the pinks of his cheeks are from you or the sunset.

“You look happier,” he finally comments softly, “I’m glad.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. Your hand covers a slight laugh that breaks from your lips. You take in his wind-tousled chestnut hair and eyes closed from his laughter, his muscular body that no longer tends to lean on his left side absentmindedly to protect his right knee, and you realize he is more genuine, more candid, more Oikawa Tooru than the one you’ve known since high school.

“You do too.”

”Wanna grab drinks after?” Oikawa asks nonchalantly as the two of you finally make your way out of the water and sit under the broad umbrella from the blazing sun. His long legs are stretched out as he leans back, hands propping him up.

Despite his relaxed posture and even voice, you see his fingers wiggling in the sand and the pinks peeking on his cheeks and the tip of his ears. It almost makes you laugh because you’re certain you can reckon on one hand how many times Oikawa Tooru seems so timid.

“I mean”- he continues, taking your silence as a declination, -“just as friends, to catch up, you know? How have you been? Oh! What about your cousin? Didn’t she -”

“Okay,” you laugh lightly. “I’d be happy to.”

“-Oh, now that I think about it, what did you end up doing- wait -” he pauses mid-sentence as he stares at you bewilderedly, ”-okay?”

“Yes,” you laugh again, much louder and without restraint. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats after you again.

“Yes, okay.” You nod.

The smile he gives you is so bright it outshines the sun.

---

"So, how are you?" he asks again once you're seated beside him, a beer in hand and dusk in view.

You offered a general answer earlier, and it started a train of small talk that never breaches past the surface. It reminds you of high school and leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. 

The beach in Argentina is always full of life, but it's quieter now. Maybe it's the fact that it's getting late or the fact that you're on your third beer already, all you can focus on is the man beside you.

Maybe you're more honest now too because he looks like he wants to ask more. (Like he asks “how are you?” when all his eyes are saying is “I love you.”)

"I threw my phone into the ocean and got in a screaming match with my dad," you tell him honestly.

You can feel his gaze on you as he lets out a soft hum to let you know he's listening. It used to unnerve you whenever he looks at you like that, whenever he makes you feel so transparent. Now, it makes you smile because he always makes you feel so seen.

"He told me to be all these things that I am not because he wanted me to have a good life. I know his intentions and know it makes him happy. But I was so fed up with just constantly not being enough for who he wanted me to be, so I told him I just wanted to be his daughter."

You don't realize your hands are shaking until you feel his hands on yours. He pulls the beer bottle out of your hands before he places them into his own and squeezes them.

"And what did he say?" he asks softly, recalling all the late nights and the mask you put on at school in the name of a shadow that always looms over you. He remembers the instant drop of your face whenever your father comes up, when the words duty and filial piety become a burden instead of pride on your shoulders.

"He just kinda stared at me and stopped talking. I think it didn't occur to him that this was a thought in my head. I cried a lot." You squeeze his hands back.

"Yeah, I'm glad you gave him a piece of your mind, though." His voice is gentle as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

"He cut me fruit after, so I think we're okay," you laugh awkwardly as you flash him a smile. "I think I'm okay."

He smiles too when he notices your smile is a lot freer now, that the corners of your lips are no longer locked in place and forced in front of fake pleasantries. Maybe he's freer now too, he thinks as he looks at the brightly lit skies, as he continues his volleyball journey, feeling so fulfilled despite being thousands of miles away from home. 

"I used to think I wasn't good enough," he starts honestly with a small laugh. "No matter how hard I work, I could never be enough compared to geniuses who just get it." 

“I used to think you were so put together when I initially met you, like the universe's spotlight was meant for you,” you hum. “Until I realized you were the reason why the volleyball gym keys were never returned on time.”

He laughs light-heartedly. “Hey, I had an image to keep up, okay?”

You tuck in your knees and prop your head on top of them, eyes never leaving his, hand still in his. “I think I realized you were a lot more reachable, human even, when I saw you broke down after losing to Karasuno our third year.”

“Are you deriving comfort in my pain? How rude!” He pouts. “But I somewhat get it. I used to think you were super snobby with your fake smiles and your super tight ponytail. I used to think you were going to be balding early!”

“You were the one who habitually had a hoard of fangirls around you, and nobody could get anyplace in the hallways!” You retort with a fond smile.

Memories of high school seem so long ago, and as you recall each one, you see the light in his eyes waning and waxing with the tides. The feelings you try so hard to bury, the ones you try to let go of the day he set off to Argentina bubble through your chest and flow onto your lips.

"I think I was too scared to love you," you finally whisper as the moon rises and the waves kiss the shore.

He stares at you and blinks once, twice, before he breathes a soft, “Oh.”

You finally take your eyes off him, hand finally wiggling its way out of his to encase yourself as you bury your face in your knees. “I wanted to be enough. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t for my dad, wasn’t for myself, wasn’t for you.”

He leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair off your face. “You are always enough. For your dad, for yourself,” he pauses and smiles gently, “And you are more than enough for me.”

You peek at him through your lashes. The ocean waves drown out the sound of your heartbeat as he stares at you earnestly, eyes honest and lips so, so close.

“I didn’t want you to regret me,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “I didn’t want to be someone who holds you back from your dreams. I didn’t want to be just temporary until you find your soulmate.”

His eyes widen, but he persists steadily close. “I don’t think I could ever regret you. My dreams will always be the national court, but you being there, by my side, would be the best part of it.”

He takes a breath as he reaches for your hand, much like he did at the rooftop of your high school.

“I was born without a soulmate mark. Initially, I was so upset because I thought no one would love me unconditionally like a soulmate is supposed to. But honestly, fuck that. Fuck soulmates. Fuck some pre-destined person supposedly made for you because no one is. We are in control of our own fate, and we are in control of whom we choose to love. And I like you Pres-chan. I have since I was eighteen and dumb. I still like you now at twenty and still a little dumb. But no matter how old I am, how old I will be, it’s always you. I will always choose to love you.”

You breathe in sharply as you listen to his words, every sound and syllable clear as his eyes as he looks at you, only you. There is only truth in his words, and as your eyes wander from his to his hand and back to his eyes, the overwhelming amount of sincerity overwhelms you. 

Oikawa Tooru has always been dedicated in all that he does, and the thought that he is offering you that very same dedicated heart of his becomes a consuming warmth in your chest. The heat of your fluttering heart radiates off your cheeks, and the feeling that has been blossoming in your heart blooms into an indescribable softness and affection.

Love has perpetually been something out of reach, something you witness in movies and read in books, something you witness in your friends and cousin. But love is here now, in the form of Oikawa Tooru with his hands stretched out for you to take, with his heart bare and exposed for you to have.

“I was born without a soulmate mark too. I used to hate it because it felt like it was another thing I was lacking in. I wasn’t even enough to have a soulmate,” you breathe out, eyes on the ocean that reflects on the moonlight. The last bits of the tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve kept finally flows out.

“But if soulmates do exist, I would like to think they are made. Not in the sense that they are made for each other, because fuck destiny, but in the sense that we wake up every morning and choose who fits us and how they fit. And whatever this is we have between us, we forged it,” you start firmly as you place your hand in his, eyes meeting his. The last bit of bitterness flows into the sea, and the only thing that remains at the bottom of this jar is hope.

“I like you too, Oikawa. I have since I was eighteen and smart. I still do at twenty and moderately smarter but still trying to figure life out. And I don’t know what the future holds or even what I’m doing to do from here on, but I want it to be you.”

“I want it to be you too. I can’t promise you the world or where our lives will lead from here onwards. What I can promise is I will choose you, from the moment I wake up until the moment I sleep, from now until the end of the ocean.”

A promise, his truth. While the unknown horrifies you, this is enough. You smile as you squeeze his hand. When he grins and squeezes your hand back, you think maybe love is irrevocably here to stay.

---

“What were you before you met me?” He takes one of your hands in his and uses his other in an attempt to tame your unconstrained hair against the wind. He pouts when he finds that your hair just blows wildly and gives up, but he smiles, nonetheless, when he hears your unrestrained laughter.

You shake your hair out of your face and turn to face him, hair blowing wildly and freely with the wind. You tear your eyes away from slow waves of the ocean, illuminated by the brilliant reds and oranges of the setting sun, and you find yourself more captivated by glowing brown eyes than you ever could by the dazzling colors of the horizon. 

You stare briefly at him, looking into his eyes and seeing his relentless soul, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like they did the very first time, feeling absolutely starstruck. You hum softly as you turn back to the peaceful waves and remember the tight ponytails and painted smiles of your high school days. You remember the weight on your shoulders to become someone ideal and the heaviness on your heart to become a you that only lives to make your father proud.

“I think... I was drowning,” you answer almost inaudibly but honestly, both hands gripping his tightly as if you’re holding a lifeline.

He pauses for a moment before he squeezes your hands again. He whispers then, reluctantly and almost fearfully, “And what are you now?”

You turn to meet his eyes. You recall him at seventeen and feeling annoyed because he mirrored every bit of the pretense you put up in all the undesirable ways. But you see him now, twenty and free of the inferiority and limitations he places on himself, and you wonder if you also look older, wiser, happier because you are now the you you want to be.

You have always associated him with air because he is terrible and unpredictable, destructive and clear, focused and silent. But he is also comforting and calm, like an invisible force, who's consistently going and going, with unhindered sight. He is always persistently here and cannot be turned away, and before long, you find yourself not knowing what to do without it.

At the moment, you find the last bits of the riptides that pull you under the waters finally cease, and as you enjoy the scent of the salty ocean and hear the lull of the gentle waves, you think you can finally breathe freely and vivaciously.

Slowly, you take a hand to trace the outline of the miniature matching sun tattooed on his chest, where the soulmate mark is supposed to appear. You smile undoubtedly and wholeheartedly.

“Water.”

---

you’re what i need cause now i can breathe; you put the beat in my heart. somehow we fit together, and now we’re unbreakable. 

[the-delta-42]

Too Long

Too Long

Marinette squinted at her notes, Emma was sleeping curled up on the sofa next to her. Adrien and Nino were outside trying to fix the car. Felix clambered onto the sofa, the old cat dropping down in between Marinette and Emma. Glancing up at the urn on the mantel piece, Marinette felt a pang of grief over the loss of Bridgette.

“Are you okay?” Asked Alya, walking in carrying a sleeping Isaac.

“Yeah, Emma had another nightmare.” Was Marinette’s tired response.

“Kagami’s sleeping, she accidentally tore her stitches again.” Said Alya, carefully lowering herself onto the sofa, “Luka’s gone to the shops, since we’re suddenly out of milk.”

Marinette sighed through her nose, carefully adjusting herself so she didn’t wake Emma, “Alya, I know what he and the other guys are doing.”

“I know, it just,” Alya exhaled sharply, “With Redman and Macintyre out and Jones escaping, we’re worried about you.”

Marinette breathed slowly, “Alya, you know perfectly well that I can take care of myself. If Jones comes here, it’ll be the last place he ever sees.”

Marinette patted her leg, a 12–13-inch dagger sheathed and hidden away as a safety measure. She had accidentally conjured it shortly before Louis was born. Marinette glanced down at Emma, she had her father’s hair and eyes and was nearly four years old, her twin brother, Hugo, had very much taken to being a ‘big boy’, but he always came back to one of his parents when he’d been hurt.

Marinette had three children by Adrien, one by Nino and another two by Luka, while Alya and Kagami had one by each of them. Kagami was recovering from a c-section after shattering her pelvis in an accident that confined her to a wheelchair.

Adrien walked in, a black mark on his face. Marinette looked at him and started giggling.

“Louis and Marcus are helping us do an oil change.” Said Adrien, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, “Since some idiot put coolant in instead of oil.”

“Aren’t you that idiot?” Asked Alya, getting Adrien to stick his tongue out at her.

Alya reciprocated, before Isaac whined and started kicking his legs out. Alya sighed, before carefully adjusting him so he’d fall back asleep. Hugo toddled into the room, dragging his blanket behind him, he then clambered up onto the sofa and curled up on his mother’s other side. Adrien smiled softly at the twins, reaching out to stroke their heads, only for Marinette and grab his wrist.

“Wash your hands.”

Adrien glanced at his palms, and wince at how dirty his hands were.

“I’ll go finish with the car.”

Marinette gave a small snort, before going back to her work.

TL

Luka smiled as he watched Thomas and Yoko putting items in the trolly. Yoko put in sweets, while Thomas put in fruits.

“Papa, can we get one of those?” Asked Yoko, pointing towards a man with a cardboard box sitting next to him.

Luka looked over and frowned, “Koko, what’s he selling?”

“Puppies!”

“He’s selling glorified rats.” Said Thomas, glaring at the box.

“What makes you say that?” Asked Luka, as a snout appeared over the top of the box, “Is this something to do with Bridgette?”

“No.”

Thomas responded too quickly for it to be the truth. Both Thomas and Louis had been close to Bridgette when they were little and had been devastated when the old dog died.

“Thomas.” Luka said in a warning tone.

“Okay, fine, I don’t see the point in having a stupid dog if it’s gonna die.” Snapped Thomas, with Luka getting reproachful looks from other shoppers.

“Tom, I know that you’re still upset about Bridgette,” Started Luka, gently, “but it’s a part of life, sometimes the best way to deal with it is to fill the hole left by a pet is to get another one.”

“Or three.” Mutter Thomas, finally alerting Luka to the fact that Yoko had gone over to the man and was holding three of the puppies.

“Oh no.” said Luka, before rushing over to Yoko, who’d made it back into the store with the three puppies.

“He said they were free!” Said Yoko, gleefully.

“Oh, I’m dead.” Muttered Luka, as Yoko put the puppies into the trolly.

“Papa, can we call them Fred?”

TL

Adrien looked up as he heard someone coming up the drive, he looked behind him and froze at the sight of a defeated Luka with Yoko and Thomas holding three puppies of different breeds.

“Marinette’s going to kill you.” Said Adrien, as Louis and Marcus look around him.

“Yoko’s named them Fred.” Said Thomas, helpfully.

“I hate to break it to you, but two of them are girls.” Stated Louis, pointing at them.

Yoko quickly hurried inside with one of the puppies. There was a moment of silence, before a bark was heard, followed by a baby wailing.

“Luka!” Came Marinette and Alya’s voices, getting a snort from Adrien.

“After you.” Said Adrien, gesturing for Luka to enter the house.

TL

Ethan haphazardly pulled at the security tags on the clothes he stole. As soon as he could get the police off his tail, he would be free to find the miserable little chi-

Ethan didn’t get a chance to finish that thought, as a white gloved hand punched him in the back of the head with enough force to knock him out.

Bunnyx glared down at Ethan, before dragging him to the door and throwing him out onto the street. The heroine detransformed, pulled out her phone and called the police.

TL

Mickey tried not to squirm under the combined glare of Kagami and Adrien. He’d thought Kagami wouldn’t be intimidating because she was in a wheelchair, he didn’t expect how wrong he’d been.

“I-I know t-that I have n-no right to explain myself-” Adrien cut him off, “You admitting to abducting, beating, raping and planning on killing Marinette, practically cheered Ethan on with killing Lila and only went along with the deal because you didn’t want to go to prison.”

“B-but, you know how Ethan was.”

“Yeah, but we also know how you were,” Growled Kagami, “you weren’t afraid of him, you always made a point of telling him how he should be afraid of you. What makes us sick about you isn’t that you claimed Ethan scared you, it’s that you did all those things because you wanted to and wanted to duck out of the consequences.”

“T-there’s n-no proof in that.”

“Sam saw you eying Marinette a week before the attack,” Said Adrien, his tone flat, “say what you will about Sam, he’s observant, so he knows what look is being given and what that look means. Sam was only wrong in the fact that you weren’t dumb enough to go through with it.”

Mickey resembled a gold fish as Adrien and Kagami started to leave.

“The restraining order still stands, Redman,” Said Adrien, coldly, “if you get within 100 feet of Marinette or her children, they wouldn’t even be able to find your body.”

Mickey swallowed, watching the two leave, terrified out of his own mind.

TL

“Ethan Jones has been recaptured.” Said Marinette, frowning at the paper, “How long had he been free?”

“A week.” Responded Luka, carefully brushing Yoko’s hair.

“Apparently a Ms. Kubdel found him and called it in.”

“Amazing.”

“Almost as if someone told her to look for him.”

“Marinette,” Sighed Luka, “Why do you find it so hard to believe that your friends and family actually love you?”

“I know you guys love me.” Defended Marinette, frowning.

“I meant outside of this household,” Gestured Luka, “Marinette, I heard Juleka say that you were the glue that keeps everyone together. I just don’t understand why you think you’re so unlovable.”

Marinette looked down, while Yoko stared up at her Papa and Maman.

“Yoko, why don’t you go play with Becka and Chris?” Suggested Luka, getting a nod from the girl.

Once Yoko was out of earshot, Luka turned back to Marinette, “Is this to do with three of those buys getting out.”

Marinette’s eyes were still on her lap, making Luka sigh again. Without saying another word, Luka gently pulled Marinette closer to him, “They can’t hurt you and they can’t hurt the kids. You know Chloé’s already seen to that.”

Marinette released a shuddery breath into Luka’s shoulder, “It’s not that.”

Luka frowned, “Then what is it?”

“One day, I’m going to have to tell them a-and I just know it’s going to change how they see me,” Cried Marinette, “How their mother is a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Interrupted Luka, “You know as well as the rest of us that you’re not a slut or a whore or any other derogatory name under the sun. You’re Marinette, you’re a victim, you’re a survivor, you’re a Celestial Guardian and you’re the mother to twelve beautiful children.”

Marinette swallowed, “But I still see it, Luka. I’m in that room and I’m stuck and I can’t move a-a-and I’m too pathetic and useless to do anything.”

“You know that’s not true,” Said Alya, from the doorway, “Yoko told me that Papa and Maman are upset.”

“Marinette’s nightmares have come back.” Said Luka, as Alya moved further into the room.

“Mari, why didn’t you say anything?” Asked Alya, perching next to them.

“There’ve been more important things going on.” Muttered Marinette, before Alya gently grabbed her chin and kissed her.

Marinette froze for a second, before attempting to deepen the kiss.

“Oh,” Murmured Alya, against Marinette’s lips, “Luka, be a dear and close the door, I think Mari wants to feel good.”

Luka nodded and quickly shut the door.

TL

Adrien looked at the sheet of paper in front of him, “How the hell did they confuse Physics with Biology?”

Nino looked up from his laptop, “Similar area?”

Adrien gave Nino a flat look, “Since when did human blood make a blue flame?”

Nino stared at Adrien, before saying, “I take it back, your students are dumb.”

“We still need to ask Caline and Michael is they’re coming over tonight.” Said Adrien, changing the subject.

“Should we ask if they’re bringing their kids?”

“I would’ve assumed that was a given, although, I don’t think Michelle would like it if we asked her mother instead of her.” Muttered Adrien, pushing his glasses up his face, “I hear that D’Argencourt had a stroke in his cell a couple days ago.”

“Really?” Inquired Nino, quirking an eyebrow, “How’d you hear that?”

“Because Chloé was bitching about how it appeared that the Guards killed him.” Stated Adrien, casually.

“Wait, he’s dead?”

“From what I heard.”

TL

“Madames et Monsieurs, College Francois Dupont, in collaboration with Rose Heart Academy and the Jeanne D’Arc School for Gifted Individuals, are proud to present Miraculous Ladybug, the untold tale of Ladybug and her Partner Chat Noir,” Read Thomas, looking at the sheet of paper in his hands, “apologies for the late start, but Ian’s come down with the flu and his understudy was late.”

Gabriel saw Marinette wince, while two more of his grandchildren wandered around the stage. Nathalie shifted in her seat, Lianne was directing the performance.

Thomas looked up, “Several artistic liberties have been taken.”

Then the hall went dark, and the curtain was raised.

_________________________________________

Adrien Nino Luka

Marinette Louis (M12) Christopher (M7) Thomas (M12)

Emma (F4) Becka (F8)

Hugo (M4)

Alya Isaac (M1) Marcus (M11) Marlena (F5)

Kagami Hikaru (M9) Satoru (M4mon) Yoko (F8)

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART TWELVE

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+! Explicit sexual content Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: ahh, sweet resolution. Writing this chapter made me euphorically happy. Thank you for reading! Extra thank you for liking, reblogging, or replying to this fic. I’m so happy people like it as much as I do. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll​ @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​ @myownparadise96​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​ @bigblack-catattack​

MASTERPOST

The final week before the play was an oddly enjoyable hell. Every second felt like it flew by and dragged on for eternity simultaneously. 

You had skipped class on Thursday, just to make sure you had every costume just the way you wanted it. Your very favorite one to work on had been Alice’s dress - you put more work into it than most of your classes for the past couple of weeks, but by the time it was done, it could have been in a storybook. 

As it hung from your closet door, you took a moment to be proud of yourself, admiring the lace and the neat trimmings. 

Kate showed up around 5, and somehow you knew she would, even though she never mentioned a thing when you told her you were staying home. 

“Hi, you,” she greeted, letting herself in as she slipped past you. “Did you get it all done?”

“Well, if I had another week, I’m sure I could find more that I could work on with them, but they’re pretty great,” you agreed. “You want a glass of wine?” 

She shook her head at you. “Actually, I’m taking you shopping tonight.”

“Shopping?” 

“Yeah, have you thought about what you’re going to wear to the play?” she inquired, sounding smug like she knew you really hadn’t.

You frowned at her, unsure. “I was thinking probably something simple.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, it should be something classy, pretty,” she said. 

“And warm,” you reminded, thinking of the snow outside. 

“Sure, sure, yeah. So, are you coming?”

You gave her a sweet smile. “Let me get my coat.”

+++

“I don’t think I can wear this,” you said through a grimace as you turned this way and then that in the mirror. Kate had let herself right into the dressing room with you, her long legs taking up more space than you could afford in such a small room. “My whole vagina would freeze.”

“It’s not that short,” she giggled.

“Yeah, but it’s just an open dress. My legs are exposed!” 

“True, maybe you could wear leggings under it,” she suggested. 

“If I were going to wear leggings, I’d want a longer dress I think. Maybe something mid-calf. Then I could wear booties.”

She looked like she was considering it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that seems like it would be super cute. What about your hair?”

“How about we find the dress first and go from there,” you teased. 

Once you were dressed again and had everything hung back on the “reject” rack, you ventured out into the store again, weaving through mannequins and lines of garments. You went to grab a hanger when you snapped your hand back in pain. 

“Damn,” you hissed. She turned to give you a concerned look. “My fingers are so sore from sewing. I’m kind of thinking they might never recover.”

You were joking, but she gave you a sympathetic look anyway. “You know this play is just as much yours as it is his, right?” 

You huffed a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s so dramatic.”

“Well, pretty damn close,” she objected, pulling a dress from the rack in front of her and laying it over her forearm. “His ass would have been grass without you.”

“We can thank Rachel for that,” you quipped, chronically annoyed by the thought of her. 

She paused what she was doing and met your eyes. “Did you figure out why she quit?”

You gave her a confused frown. Now that you were thinking about it, Josh never did tell you why. You shook your head. “Why?”

“Well, it sounds like she kinda had a thing for Josh. Like a big thing. And that’s why she signed up to work with him in the first place.”

You nodded for her to continue, your stomach feeling tight. 

“And I guess it went okay for a little while - he seemed receptive to it apparently, but she found out he had a female roommate and saw you guys eating lunch together all of the time, you know?” Kate continued carefully. 

You hummed, trying to seem casual, but you felt a little like you’d just been sucker-punched. 

“How did you hear about this?” 

“Grapevine,” she replied with a smile. “What do you think of this one?” 

She was stroking her fingers down a long dress, black with flowers in muted colors. “That would go really well with my coat actually. We have to accept the reality that I’m going to have to wear a coat the whole time.”

She smiled at you in an oddly genuine way for her. “I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but you should go for it.”

You gave her a confused look. “I have to try it on first.”

She put a hand flat on your chest. “Not the dress, you goober. Josh.”

You stared blankly at the ground until you were sure of what you wanted to say. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t lose him as a friend - I’d be devastated.” 

“Why would you think you’d fuck it up? I don’t know that you could, to be honest.” You watched as she grabbed a pair of earrings, dangling off of their cardboard hanger. She started back off toward the dressing room, and you followed close behind.  

“We’ll have to wait and see what happens.”

+++

You helped Josh get all of the costumes to the school on Friday, hanging them up on racks backstage. You took the time to make them all tags, writing the kid’s names in fancy, flowing script. 

Josh was working on getting the first set perfectly into place, so everything was ready to go for showtime the next day. Despite how clearly nervous he was, you could hear him handing out compliments and words of encouragement to the stagehands - even his constructive advice was said in a way that felt like every person in that room was his best friend. 

He had left you mostly alone to get the wardrobe ready, but when he popped back into your area, he crouched down next to where you were sat on the floor. 

“I probably won’t be home until late again tonight,” he informed with a half-frown. “There’s a lot I still have to get into place.”

You gave him an understanding smile. “Don’t worry about me, worry about you. You need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

“I know,” he replied, looking thankful. “Show me some of these costumes.”

You had been oddly flattered that he had trusted you enough to have them done - and done well - by the time of the play; he hadn’t asked to see them even once until right then. 

“You can look through them, but they won’t look right until they’re on a child.”

His face lit up like that was the best news of the day. “That’s perfect because the kids should be here for dress rehearsal in about ten minutes.”

You smiled at him as he stood and helped you up with two outstretched hands. 

He ran his hands over the rack, pausing on the one you knew he would. With a perplexed look, he pulled the door mouse costume and held it up. 

“This is-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I know, I really hope it’s okay, but I found a sheet in your room with some rough designs on it, and I really liked a lot of them,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“You were going through my stuff?” he asked with a grin.

You shook your head. “Just that. And it was when I went in to get Penny.”

His fingers slid down the tail of the costume, made from a string of peach-hued rope - just like his draft had called for. His brown eyes flicked up at you, looking like melted chocolate under the warm-colored lights. “I literally don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for this.”

You could feel a blush rising on your cheeks, the sensation of flower petals brushing your stomach lining. “Let’s make it through the show without them falling to pieces first.” Your tone had been a teasing one, but he looked completely unaffected. 

The intensity of the moment was slowly creeping up on you - you weren’t sure if he was going to kiss you or cry. In the end, he did neither. 

“Do you want to stick around to see the kids in their outfits?” he offered, but you shook your head. 

“I’m actually really excited to see it all for the first time tomorrow,” you replied with a smile that was immediately matched by his. 

“Alright, I like that idea.” He paused a moment before speaking again. “Don’t wait up for me, okay?”

You chuckled at him, pulling your jacket on to leave. “No promises.”

+++

That evening you spent a long time in the bathtub with a bottle of wine. You had homework to do - and you tried for a couple of hours, but you just couldn’t be fucked with it, so you turned the water up as hot as it would go and rested your head on a rolled-up towel.

You felt silly about it now, but you were scared that once this was over, you would feel lost without the costumes to worry about. That moment never came for you - at least not with the costumes. 

You definitely couldn’t stop thinking about Josh.

There was this terrible feeling in the pit of your gut - a guilt, heavy like you swallowed a pile of gravel.

When you got out, you haphazardly dried off and left the wet towel on the bathroom floor. You got changed into a long-sleeved shirt and your pajama shorts and then grabbed what was left of your wine and made your way to Josh’s room. After you laid out on his bed, you rolled over onto your side and stared into the fish tank, pressing your fingers against the glass. 

Penny had been snoozing in her log decoration, but when she spotted you, she hurried out to greet your hand.

“I fucked up, Penny,” you whispered. You imagined she was making an angry face at you, but in reality, she was just floating there, probably wondering where her dinner was.

You glanced at the time on your phone. 

8:32 pm

You grabbed the little jar of flakes off of his bedside table and strained to drop a couple into the water. She gobbled them up excitedly, her safety-orange colored fins waving in the water. 

You had no idea when it happened, but you woke up to the dresser drawer by your head opening. You sat up, irregular heartbeat making you feel jittery.  

Josh turned to look at you, a warm smile on his lips, the sun illuminating his tan face. “Hey,” he greeted. 

“Oh my god, it’s light outside. What time is it?” you asked groggily.

“About 8:30. I got home at midnight and you were passed out in here, so I covered you up,” he informed, making your face run warm.

You pushed your messy hair away from your face. “I’m sorry, I was laying in here with Penny and I must have fallen asleep.” You glanced around in confusion. “I didn’t even feel you get out of bed.”

“Oh, I slept on the couch,” he replied, picking a pair of pants from his top drawer. 

You frowned, casting your eyes down to the bedsheets. He thought you didn’t want to sleep next to him, and instead of waking you up to move you, he slept out on the couch. The idea made you want to cry.

“Will you sit with me a moment?” you asked, patting the spot next to you. 

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I really want to, but I need to be over to the school in twenty minutes. I am planning on being back here around 4 to eat something quick and then get ready.”

“Okay.” You clambered out of bed as he pulled his shirt off and changed into a new one. “I think I’ll probably already be at Kate’s, but if you want to take my car you can.”

He shot you a smirk. “Really? You’re going to let me drive?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best mom voice. “Yes, but only if you promise to be very safe.”

He put his hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I’ll see you after the show,” you said, maybe a little too sweetly, and brushed a curl out of his eyes. It was well worth it to see the tops of his cheeks turn pink. 

+++

As Kate took you both to the theater, you couldn’t kick the nervous butterflies. She looked beautiful - you’d never seen her in anything but mom jeans, but she was dressed in a plaid skirt, tights, and a black turtleneck sweater. She had insisted on doing your makeup - sitting you down at her vanity and pulling a barstool close enough she could reach you. You had known better than to complain about the amount of time she took - besides, you had gotten over to her house so early, you had nothing but time. When she was done, you barely recognized yourself. Somehow she had made your eyes look bigger, your lashes longer and darker, and your face sharper. You were used to wearing foundation and concealer, but your face felt almost a little heavy under all she’d put on you. 

She had laid out a few extra things for you - a pair of boots and a set of green gem earrings and you gave her a thankful smile as you donned them. The truly hard part was resisting hugging her very affectionate polar bear - which was actually a dog, she informed you. You had tried once, but she scolded you, reminding you that white fur didn’t look good on black fabric.

You had whispered a promise to him that you would be back soon to give him all the love he could handle.

When she pulled up to the school, she had you get out at the doors and grab the tickets while she went to park, and to your pleasant surprise, Jake was waiting for you. He helped you out of the car with an outstretched hand. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to wear, but it definitely wasn’t a button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone and nothing underneath. 

“You’re literally making me cold just looking at you,” you teased, wrapping your arms comfortingly around your frame. You had earned a grin from him.

“I’m wearing a coat,” he reasoned, holding up the hem of a light peacoat to prove his point.

You rolled your eyes at him. “C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

He pulled two tickets out of said coat’s pocket and handed them to you. “You mean these?”

“Did you buy these?” you asked through a frown.

“One of them. I bought mine and Kate’s, and I think you can guess who got yours,” he responded with a genuine smile. 

You took one of the tickets wordlessly, but you couldn’t suppress a smile. 

As soon as Kate had joined you in the foyer, you took your seats. Despite it being only a college production, you were shocked at how many people had come to the opening night. There were only a handful of open spots left when they flashed the lights, and you could just imagine Josh giving the kids a pep talk backstage. 

The show started with a fun, bouncy opening music number and you leaned against Kate as you looked on at all the set pieces you’d both worked so hard on. You had thought your job was hard, but Kate had to round up a bunch of art students to help her work on the hundreds of different props.

Leave it to Josh to treat a children’s musical like a broadway show. 

The first half of the show went pretty much perfectly - everyone seemed to remember their lines, and if they didn’t, you didn’t notice. You couldn’t help but smile in pride as you watched all of your costumes appear on stage, one by one. 

During intermission, your head snapped over when you heard a soda tab opening and you shot Kate a disapproving look - you’re pretty sure you’d read a “no outside food and drink” sign at the front entrance. She gave you an unapologetic smile as she took a long sip and then handed the can over to Jake. He laughed under his breath.

The time went by too fast, and the closer it got to the closing act, the more anxious you got. The final scene was a triumphant number, exciting and big. You could tell that a lot of the audience was family members because when the curtain fell, they all began to stand. Hooting and hollering filled the huge room, and you almost cried when the curtain rose again to reveal some of the kids wearing smiles that spread all the way to their ears. It started with the minor characters - the cards, the flowers, and then the Cheshire Cat, the Hatter, the Caterpillar, the White Rabbit. Then finally, The Queen of Hearts, followed by a grinning Alice. 

They waved excitedly at the crowd, eating up the standing ovation like it was candy. You saw Kate with her hand pressed over her mouth and the biggest eyes you’d ever seen her wear - she was absolutely in love with them, as was the entire rest of the room. 

A moment or two later, Josh stepped out onto the stage. You recalled back when you had first met him and had told him you couldn’t imagine him in business casual because he was wearing a dark blue suit, a pair of black dress shoes, and a proud grin. As the kids made a spot for him in the line, he crouched down in between them and gave a couple of them a pat on the back. You saw him speak something at the girl playing Alice, and it must have been praise because she gave him a toothy smile in return. 

When the cast members had returned backstage, you had told Kate and Jake to leave when they were ready - you were going to wait for Josh. Both of them had given you knowing smiles that you brushed off easily enough, but they left all the same with a parting word of “text me” from Kate. 

You gave it enough time that most of the audience had left - all the kids joining their parents with promises of ice cream and treats - before you made your way backstage. 

After looking for him for a moment, you spotted Josh chatting with an older man excitedly by the back exit. When the older man (his professor, you assumed) laid eyes on you, he gestured toward you with a, “Please head home, we’ll see you tomorrow. You’ve done a great job.”

Josh turned to look at you and the smile melted from his lips as he nodded a haphazard acknowledgment to his professor. 

“Hey,” you greeted, only needing to speak above a whisper in the quiet area. Viewing him on stage was fine - it felt impersonal, but up close it felt like looking into the sun. “You look so handsome.”

His cheeks turned red under the tan skin as he rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through a weak laugh, and a moment later said, “The costumes were incredible.”

“Not bad for someone who didn’t know how to sew a month ago, right?” you teased. You stared into his eyes for a long moment before crossing the room and taking his hand. “Are you ready to go?” you asked, then teasingly added, “Provided my car is still intact.”

He chuckled at you before taking a long breath. “Yeah, let’s go home.” 

The car ride home was tense, but not uncomfortable. You could sense the electricity running through him as you chatted about the production - the pride radiating from him was palpable. 

When you pulled into the apartment parking lot, it had just begun snowing, and neither of you made any moves to exit the car once it was turned off. 

After a long moment of silence, you spoke again. “We have a lot to talk about.”

He gave you a nervous look, one eyebrow quirked. “We do?”

You breathed a laugh, half-turning towards him in your seat. After a moment of collecting your thoughts, you said, “I want you to lay it all out for me. I know we haven’t been talking about it because it’s scary but I need to know exactly how you feel about me.”

He stared into your eyes for a long time, seemingly trying to predict whether this was a good idea or not. Just for assurance, you laid your hand on top of his where it rested on his knee - his fidgeting fingers pausing under your touch. 

“You know, I think I felt it for you the moment I first met you,” he admitted, casting his eyes anywhere but on yours. “I was nervous up until semi-recently that I just felt that way because I was lonely, you know? When my ex and I parted ways last spring and my roommate dropped out and moved away, I felt like I lost everyone all at once.

“I stopped going to parties and seeing my friends until I had none left. And I didn’t want to see my family - I think I had become accustomed to being alone, but you moved in and you were so kind. I’m not sure exactly when it happened - probably kind of a little bit at a time - with every interaction, you know? But I feel it for you. For real.”

He met your eyes again with a surprised frown. You watched his other hand come up, his thumb swiping under your eye, leaving a cool spot behind. “I’m sorry, don’t cry.”

You laughed weakly. “I didn’t know I was. I’m going to ruin all the makeup Kate spent an hour working on.” Before he could speak again, you took the moment. You leaned in and tugged him closer to you by the lapels of his suit jacket, pressing your lips to his. He melted into it for only a moment before pulling away with a sad smile. 

“I don’t want you to do this just because you feel bad for me,” he explained, voice uncharacteristically flat. 

You gave him a frown, taking his chin between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. “I’m not,” you promised, but he looked unconvinced. So you tried again.

“Josh, I’m so sorry about the way I’ve treated you. I fucked up. You have got to be the absolute sweetest person I’ve ever met - definitely the sweetest man - and it was fucked of me to sleep with you and then make you feel like you were wrong for wanting affection.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“It’s never going to happen again. Because - if you’ll have me - I want to give you all the affection you can handle. No weed-induced hook up’s this time.”

He was silent for a long moment, and you huffed a laugh as you visualized his brain working. 

“Oh,” he breathed as a smile started to tilt his lips up at the corners. “Well. That’s not how I expected this to go. Are we gonna fuck here - in the car?”

An abrupt laugh ripped through your chest. “I would prefer if we didn’t, this is cloth upholstery. But we could go inside?”

He nodded at you, and opening the door and stepping out, he came around to your side and gave you his hand to make sure you didn’t fall in the new snowfall. 

Inside, he toed off his dress shoes, and you bent to undo the buckles on your boots, your fingers shaking slightly in anticipation. The second you were stood again, he had you pressed back against the door with just enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. 

When he leaned in and connected your mouths, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing into his hair. 

He kissed a trail down your jaw and to the base of your throat, the feeling of teeth dragging across your skin giving you goosebumps. He hummed into your neck as his hands snaked around your body, his fingers tugging up the hem of your dress.

You slipped your coat off with his help once he realized what you were trying to do. As soon as it fell to the floor, you were walking him back blindly through the apartment, neither of you caring when you bumped into this or that. He turned you around when you reached his bedroom, laying you out over the covers. 

You watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, then the cuffs of his dress shirt. 

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he mumbled, making you blush lightly as he gestured to your form. “Did you do this for me?”

Through a smile, you replied, “Of course.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he stated confidently as he worked to open his button-down shirt. You decided that you weren’t going to let him do that alone, so you sat up, replacing his fingers with yours. 

You huffed. “Don’t say that.” The second the fabric was undone, you pressed your lips to his warm stomach, feeling the skin twitch under the touch. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met - candy sweet.” It was his turn to flush pink across his face, but you weren’t done yet. “I find myself thinking about you constantly.” You nipped into the trail of hair below his navel as you tugged his shirt from his dress pants. He hummed low at the slight pain. “I actually got some condoms in case you wanted to use them. Probably not all of them tonight - it’s a big pack, but you know. Over the next couple of weeks.” Your tone was teasing, forcing a breathy laugh from him. 

“Where are they?” he asked, voice a little gravelly. 

“My bedside stand.” 

As he exited the room to retrieve them, you pushed yourself up onto the bed until your head hit his pillows. You could hear him rummaging in the next room until the noise stalled for a beat as you worked off your leggings. You listened to him pad back across the hall, wearing just a smile and his dress pants when he returned. 

He crawled up the bed over you, pressing his face into your cheek as his hand lifted the hem of your dress. 

“What’s this?” he asked into your ear, pressing something cold against your thigh. You knew what it was instantly, making you suck in a surprised breath. 

You laughed, but even to your ears, it sounded nervous. He held it up so you could see.

“That would be a vibrator.”

It wasn’t anything special - just a slim, blue plastic piece, but it was the only one you’d ever had, and it had been a very good friend to you. He hovered his lips over yours as he ran the toy up your leg until the tip of it brushed your panties. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, but he sounded smug like he already knew the answer. You squirmed in anticipation and nodded. 

When he brushed it across your mound, you jolted, your fingers pressing tightly into his shoulder. He applied a little pressure to it, pressing it into the folds over the fabric. The feeling made you whine in the back of your throat.

He sat up, slipping his legs under yours, pulling your ass into his lap. Your face felt hot, so you covered your eyes with your fingers, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. This was a lot different than hooking up with him while high. 

He played the toy over your panties until you were wet enough to have left a damp spot in the fabric. Then he hooked his fingers under them and tugged them down enough to give him full access, though the position restricted him from removing them completely. 

When the plastic pressed against your bare skin, you had to suppress a moan. You couldn’t see, so you didn’t expect it when the toy flicked to life against you, and he ran it across you lightly, just teasing. 

You stared up at the ceiling through your fingers, your mouth agape as he brushed it over your clit in circles, making your hips buck into the touch.

“Fuck,” you breathed, taking one of your hands from your eyes and running your fingers through your hair. If you tugged on the locks lightly, no one had to know but you. 

A little rougher, he deliberately pressed just the tip of it into your clit, forcing a shocked whine from the back of your throat. You made the mistake of sitting up on your elbows to watch, but instead, all you could look at was the form of his hard cock straining against his tight pants. 

You couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried - you reached out and ran your fingers down the length of it. It twitched under your touch, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. You made a mental note to congratulate him on his dedication. Instead, he grabbed your wrist with a firm grip and laid you back down, all without taking his eyes off of his task. 

You could feel it starting to build in you as you rocked your hips into the feeling of the toy against your most sensitive part. You were positive that you looked absolutely pathetic, but when you met his eyes, he looked so entranced that it made you blush deeper - if that was even possible. 

Your fingers were flexing into his sheets as you came, a high whine ripping through your chest. When he pulled the toy away, a thread of your come was still connected to it, shimmering in the dim light of his lamp. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss against it, leaving his lips shiny. 

It took you a moment to collect yourself - your breathing was ragged and not at all appealing, if you had to guess. 

He gently placed your vibrator on his side table, and you watched as his fingers worked open the button on his pants, and then the zipper. When he pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his cock popped out - rock hard. He pushed all the fabric down to his thighs and then tugged you further into his lap until your parts were flush together. 

“Did you want the condom?” you asked with a fucked-out smile. 

“Fuck it,” he replied with a grin as he rubbed his cock through your slit, making your over-sensitive skin pulse.  

You breathed a little “ah” sound as your whole lower half felt like it was hooked up to a live wire. “Are you telling me that you went all the way over there and forgot the condom?”

“First of all,” he started with a sinister laugh. “It’s just across the hall. Second of all, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

You had opened your mouth to respond but before you could, he pushed into you, his thumb holding his cock into place. 

“Fuck,” you rasped, throwing your head back into the pillow. You could feel how wet you were just by his movements. Your hands reached out until you could dig your fingernails into his forearms, his hands tight on your hips as he bottomed out in you. 

You looked up just in time to catch his tongue swipe out over his lips, his eyes half-lidded. 

He started rocking in and out of you like a tide drawn to the beach, sending little shockwaves through your core and up into your tight stomach.

To give your fingers something to do, they worked at the buttons on your dress. They only went down to the bottom of your ribcage, but it was far enough to expose your chest. He didn’t waste even a second before he moved one of his hands to your tit, squeezing it until it spilled out through his fingers. 

You were focused on that until he brushed something inside of you that made your jaw drop open. You went to moan but no sound would come out, so you sat up on your hands and pushed back against him, forcing him in deeper. His teeth were clenched as his hands found your hips again, holding you in the position you needed to be in to work yourself on him. He hummed, eyes fluttering as he met you halfway, thumbs pushed into the thin skin across your hip bones. You briefly wondered if he’d leave you little oval-shaped bruises.

He was staring into your eyes as best he could while his eyelids fluttered, so you knew when he was getting close to the edge. He pulled you up to him so you were riding his lap, his forehead against yours, the new angle putting his cock perfectly against your sweet spot as the length of him slid into you. 

You kissed him deeply as you worked yourself onto him, his breath hitching and his fingers lacing into your hair as he came. You were shockingly close behind, so when he drove you down on him harder to ride out his orgasm, you lost it too. 

You gasped into his mouth as it washed over you, leaving your senses as if you were swallowed by a wave. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments until you pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes. 

“You’re going to have come on your dress pants,” you whispered teasingly. He smirked back at you as he laid you out onto the bed. 

“Yeah, I’ll have to wash them before tomorrow night’s show,” he agreed, and the idea made your cheeks go pink. 

You were both silent as you cleaned up, and when you returned to him from the bathroom, he was already tucked under the covers in his bed. He smiled at you and held the comforter up for you as you crawled in next to him. You knew you were going to fall asleep almost instantly once you got completely situated, so it was lucky that he spoke before that happened. 

“I want you to come home with me for Christmas,” he stated, voice just above a whisper. 

You blinked over at him, a little stunned. 

“I don’t want you to be here alone - you deserve to be with a loving family,” he explained further when he saw the look on your face. 

You gave him a smile, feeling oddly sentimental post-orgasm. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes, so you buried your face in his neck. 

“I’d like that.”

[harrysgloves]

Three’s Company

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

Story Summary: The relationship of Harry Styles, Florence Pugh, and Y/N are kept under wraps... until it all falls apart. 

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language // Angst 

Authors Note: Please ignore the fact I’ve had writters block for over a month... Hope this is at least (semi) close to what you wanted anon! I kind of been carried away in daydreams of a poly relationship with Harry and Florence lately... xx

>>>Kind of a continuation of this fic<<< (Not necessary to read first)

PART TWO

>>><<<

"Come on." Harry breathed out the words onto your skin. His lips pressed against the smooth sensitive velvet of your inner legs. "Jus' wanna make yeh feel good, baby."

"I gotta go." You whined, your head pressed down into your pillow on his bed as you pouted up at the ceiling. It was 11:32 and you had exactly 28 minutes until you needed to be across town for this dumb lunch you promised your friends you'd show up to.

"Only need five minutes." He smirked into your skin. Playful green eyes shot up from between your legs when you out a huff.

"Shut up." You mumbled, your legs snapped closed as you tried to roll out of his oversized bed. His long, lanky, arms around your waist trying their best to stop you from leaving.

"Wait!" He pouted, his head rested on your shoulder.

"Harry." You groaned, your head leaned back as your feet dangled off the bed, inches away from the floor, and towards the plans, you were starting to regret making for the day.

"Sweetheart, 've missed yeh." His calloused hands wandered down your waist, under the shirt you'd stolen from his closet for your impromptu nights stay.

You were starting to wonder why you even bothered having an apartment of your own when those fucking hands started soothing motions on your breast. Rough fingers swirling your nipples into a hard peak.

Your soft sigh floated through the air as his lips curled against your neck. You could tell he thought he won this time, his gloating smirk, a self-satisfied hum drifting from that damn mouth that you simultaneously wanted to smack and grind against. He always knew how to do this, he managed to find all your weak spots in less than a month.

The bastard.

"You two always start without me." The voice of your girlfriend broke through that foggy haze of lust in your mind. You jumped away from Harry. Your bare feet hit the floor with a loud slap.

"Ugh." Harry groaned as he slammed back into the soft mattress, his eyes glared at Florence. "Now she's gonna leave."

"What? No…." She drew out in a whine. Perfectly pink lips pouted at you from the corner of Harry's bed.

"I promised them I'd go this time." You mumbled as you tossed articles of clothing that didn't belong to you across the room.

You three needed a cleaning system.

"But…" Florence sighed as she took down her hair from the towel on top of her head. "Today's our day off."

"You guys can still do stuff." You said as you wiggled quickly into your jeans, not at all paying attention to the worried look on both of their faces.

It had been a little less than a month of dating and the two of them hadn't gone anywhere without you. Sure, you'd done things separately with the both of them. Separate dates, divided time between both their apartments, and long nights with either one of them in a bed.

You'd done just as much together as you had apart but neither one of them wanted to push the bounds of the slightly new relationship. That left you with one boyfriend and one girlfriend, who really didn't seem to be dating each other, only you.

"We've talked about this." You groaned as you slid your bra around your bare stomach. Harry's shirt bunched around your neck as you threaded each arm through a strap. "Go out on a date, fuck each other."

"We do!" Florence protested, her arms crossed against her bare chest, the towel in her hair fell slightly as she pouted to you.

You couldn't have rolled your eyes harder if you tried.

"Without me." You said as you tucked Harry's shirt into the top of your jeans. His head popped up from the bed, a dimpled smile across his face when he saw you wearing his clothes for the day.

"We wanna give yeh time to get used to it." He said as he rested on his elbow. His soft curly hair hung in his eyes.

"I know," you sighed as you sat down on the edge of the bed to put on your socks. " I appreciate it but really, you two are dating too."

"Won't change your mind?" Florence asked after a second too long of you three being in silence.

"Flor," you cooed in a soft voice when your eyes lifted to see her looking so vulnerable. "I'm not going anywhere. I want this."

Your hand cupped around her face, thumb stroking her cheek. Her head nodded in agreement before you leaned in to capture her lips with your own.

This would be good for all of you, you thought. A chance for the three of you to become a solid unit, not separate moving parts. You smiled softly at her as you leaned back from her. Her eyes still held a look of disbelief hidden deep in them.

"Promise I'm not going anywhere."

>>>

"You're late!" Your best friend yelled way too loudly at you as soon as you rounded the corner of the sidewalk. Your cheeks flamed as you glared at him, thankful your sunglasses hid you at least a little bit from the seemingly millions of people, now staring at you.

"Get famous friends and now you think you can be late."

Your elbow dug into his side as you passed him. The doors to the sports bar, you used to be a regular at, opened with a ring as he mumbled under his breath, dutifully following behind you as he rubbed the sore spot on his side.

The long table that was once filled with your handful of single friends was now filled to the brim with the original three and their partners. You were the only singleton, the lone warrior, or at least that's what they all thought.

The decision to not go public was made almost immediately by the three of you. No media coverage seemed like the smart move for everyone involved.

The only exception you made to the keep-it-under-wraps rule was your immediate family and your one best friend, Sam, who promptly told his own girlfriend.

"You should go out with our travel agent, Y/N, he's really sweet. Not much of a looker though." Lisa, a girl you didn't even like, piped up halfway through your pasta dish. Your teeth ground together as you smiled up to her over your fork.

"Might as well, Y/N." Sam's girlfriend, Casey, snickered from the other side of you. Her laughter was cut short by your foot kicking her leg under the table, hard.

"I'm good." You huffed, you didn't know how much longer you could take sitting here with all of them trying to set you up with friends of friends, or worse their sad sympathetic smiles everytime one of the couples at the table did something cute.

"You could tell them." Sam whispered to you when he saw your mounting frustration with the situation. Most of your friends had married assholes who had no problem voicing their opinions about your love life.

By the third beer and your slice of cheesecake, you had relaxed a bit. The conversation had finally gone from your lack of love life towards everyone's children or careers. The end of the long lunch was finally on the horizon and you could successfully ditch having to hang out with all of them again for at least another 6 months when your phone started buzzing out of control from your purse behind you.

All 6 people who sat around the table with you seemed to be more invasive than you originally thought. All set of eyes stared you down as you unlocked your phone to silence it, when the notifications caught your attention.

So many fucking notifications.

Every account you had, countless tags and mentions, tweets from every person in America, it felt like.

Thank fuck, @Y/N_Y/L/N can FINALLY leave @Harry_Styles alone!

Ding, Dong, the third wheel is DEAD @Y/N_Y/L/N

Hope @Y/N_Y/L/N is recovering well from @Harry_Styles choosing the better girl @Florence_Pugh

#Florencerry #Farry #Florry CONFIRMED. #ByebyebyeY/N

That familiar feeling of dread flooded your stomach, your tongue grew thick with anxiety as your eyes scanned so many messages. Your silence covered the entire table, or maybe it was the ringing in your ears that made it feel that way.

You said you wanted them to go on a date, not this.

No, this, this was awful. A picture of your two partners with their tongue shoved down each other's throats. They were in a corner, away from everybody, trying to be as private as possible. Harry's hand wrapped in her hair, her own hands grasped the back of his shirt.

Why wouldn't they be more careful? Where did this leave you three?

Where did it leave you?

"Everything okay?" Sam's voice sliced through your anxious thoughts.

"Just my brother." You lied as smoothly as you could. Your phone quickly locked and placed back into your purse, a wad of money thrown on the table for your meal. "He's at my apartment, got to go let him in."

"Okay?" Sam's voice trailed behind you as you rushed through the doors to the restaurant and back to the safety of your own apartment.

>>>

"What the fuck?" Florence groaned, her pillow thrown off the bed, towards Harry's phone that wouldn't stop ringing.

"'M up." He mumbled, his blurry eyes barely opening. They definitely shouldn't have had all those drinks with lunch.

"Wot?" He grumbled, half-asleep into his phone, not even paying attention to the name that flashed across the screen.

"Why didn't you tell me you're going out with Florence? This is great for the movie!" Jeff cheered, loudly, way too loudly. Harry's eyebrows pulled together as he pulled the phone back from his face.

Florence gasped, shooting up from her place, phone in hand as she panicked. Her eyes widened larger and larger, the longer she looked at her phone.

"Oh no." She whispered, her phone pushed in Harry's face that fell into a frown the second his eyes focused on the bright screen.

"Well, 'm not-" he cleared his throat that suddenly seemed like the desert. "'M dating her and Y/N."

"At the same time?" Jeff said after a very long and uncomfortable pause. Harry's hand ran through his hair as Florence signaled for him to put Jeff on speaker.

"Yeh, we're all datin'." Harry's lips pursed as he hit the speakerphone button. He wasn't exactly sure what Jeff would say. Sure, he was supportive in the past but this was new territory, at least for Harry.

"Harry…" Jeff sighed through the phone. His voice seemed to make the room go completely still. Everything paused in time. "You can't- listen, it's not a good idea to go public with that."

"Not really y'choice."

"Give it till the movie's over. You and Florence date publicly and promote the movie, once it's done go public then if you still want to."

"We'll talk 'bout it." Harry muttered, the phone call ended as quickly as it started. His phone thrown haphazardly back onto the nightstand beside the bed as he let out a long groan, his hands ran down his face.

"God, Y/N had to see that already. She's probably freaking out." Florence said as she got out of bed, determined to go check on her girlfriend no matter how late it was.

"Jeff was right." Harry said softly, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite of him. The small amount of light that filled the room was barely enough to see the shocked look across Florence's face, but Harry didn't have to see it to know it was there.

Even he was surprised at his own words.

Was he really prepared to give you both up to save his career? Or could he take all the stigma from dating two girls at once? He didn't know and he didn't have time to process.

"You did not just say that."

"What would people think, Flor? 'M a guy, dating two women! I'd be a womanizer and yeh two the bimbos who put up with me datin' each other."

"Wow, Harry." Florence's voice boomed around the room as she threw on her clothes. Angrily stomping around until she was clothed.

"Yeh knew what I meant." He sighed, his head rested in his hands.

"I don't want to hide who I'm with. I'm happy with you two and I can't believe you want to hide that!" She shrieked, her foot stomped on the floor as she glared at him.

Logically, she could understand his reasoning. Emotionally, she was pissed. How could he be thinking of hiding away what you three had? You were the perfect girlfriend and the three of you worked so well together.

"I wanna give it time!" He snapped back, his voice sharp with an anger she hadn't heard before.

"Why?" She asked in a huff, her hands crossed over her chest as she glared at him.

"People are gonna eat her alive. She'll always be the third wheel. If we wait til after the movie maybe it won't be so bad" Harry's words sucked the life right out of Florence. Her chest seemed to deflate as she stared at Harry. Stress, anxiety, and about a million other feelings ran through her all at once.

"Oh." She sighed, the edge of the bed dipped in as she sat down. Both of them silently staring at random objects in the room that suddenly become the most interesting thing.

Both of them wondering where this left the three of you.

>>>

It had been three months, three long and hard months of feeling like the outsider in your relationship. Maybe not in private but in public, you were always the odd man out.

Don't stand too close to Harry.

Don't be too friendly with Florence.

Don't laugh too hard.

Don't smile too much, and for the love of God, do not let anyone catch you hugging each other for too long.

It was hard but as the holidays grew closer and the final scenes of the movie were filmed, you knew the end was just on the horizon. You'd finally be able to hold hands with them in public again. You'd be able to fix Florence's hair or adjust Harry's shirt without being murdered online.

The trivial things that you used to not pay any mind to doing every day were hard to stop doing in public at first. It was a hard road, with too much speculation from fans and a lot of rude tweets about you, but it was worth it. You'd spend your nights wrapped up with the both of them, a smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

It was hard but worth it. You'd repeat to yourself almost daily.

They cared about you.

They wanted to be with you.

You loved them both.

"Hello?" Your voice cracked as your one hand rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, the other barely opening the front door of Harry's house.

You didn't think he was expecting anyone.

"Is, uh, is my brother here?" Gemma asked from the other side.

"Oh, he and Florence are at an interview for the movie." You said as you opened the door fully for her. Your bare legs that weren't covered by Harry's t-shirt raised at the cool air that ran in. "You can wait for him if you want."

"Yeah, okay." She mumbled as she walked passed you, her eyes barely made contact with your own as she made a fast-paced walk to the living room.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were coming I would have picked up or you know, made tea or something." You said awkwardly from the entryway. Your arms crossed over your chest as you walked further into the room.

"No offense or anything," she started as she looked over the semi-messy room and back over to you, "why are you here?"

"What?" You asked with an uncomfortable chuckle, the smile that was there fell from your face.

"This is Harry's house and he's not here. Plus, he's dating Florence." Her pointed words stung deep as her eyes sliced into you.

"He's, he didn't- wait," you stuttered out as you circled to where she was standing, your eyebrows pulled tightly together as you looked into her stern face. "Did he not tell you?"

"Tell me what? That you're Florence's friend?"

The lung was sucked out of your lungs so quickly it felt like you were a fish out of water. Your tongue wetting your lips was the only signal to your brain that you were still alive and moving around, breathing but barely.

"Florence friend, right." You said softly, your eyes stung as you scoffed. You shook your head as you stared at the floor.

It took a millisecond for you to get a hold of yourself. You gave her a sad smile as you walked past her towards the bedroom. His shirt left on the bed and all of your belongings that were in sight packed into your oversized purse.

You were done.

You were so done being the third wheel. You could handle it for a little bit, maybe even forever if it was just with the public, but this was his sister. His family, his inner circle, and he hadn't told her.

"Y/N?" You heard her panicked call of your name from the other room. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. Your head thrown back as the tears started to flow down your cheeks.

You couldn't be with one and not the other.

"Where are you going?" Her voice broke as she saw you standing there, your bags packed, his shirt on the bed.

"Y/N?" His voice stung, the betrayal burned in your throat.

"I'm leaving." You said from the middle of the bedroom, your back still faced them as they stood in the doorway.

"You'll be back tomorrow, right?"

"No, Flor, I'm not coming back." You whispered, tears flooded your eyes as you heard her suck in a deep breath.

"Y/N, 'S almost over, one more interview and I prom-"

"Fuck your promises." You yelled as you turned furiously in your spot, your vision blurred as you glared at him.

"Wha-"

"Ask your sister." You scoffed as you stormed past them, your shoulder knocked his as you pushed through the doorway.

"What does that mean?" Florence yelled as she trailed after you. Harry's shocked face and slumped shoulder not deterring her at all from chasing you down.

"It means I'm done." You sniffed, the sleeve of your sweater used as a tissue. "I'm your girlfriend not some slut you welcome in your bed from time to time."

"We don't think that at all!" Florence cried harder, her hands cupped your face as she closed in on you. Your shoulders shrugged, your own hands pushed hers away as you sucked in a deep breath.

"I can't Flor. I just can't."

"Baby, please, lemme explain…" Harry pleaded as he walked up behind Florence, his hands rested on her shoulders, his own green eyes watering. "I didn't it to get out before we were ready. Jus' a little longer and then it goes back to normal."

"This is normal. This will always be our normal." You sobbed, your hands covered your eyes as you turned from the both of them. Your arms hugged around yourself for comfort. "I'm always going to be the one who's in the middle of your relationship."

"You're not!" Florence choked as she held onto Harry's hand.

"I'll fix all of this, please, jus' stay." Harry's hand reached for your own but you jerked your body away.

You couldn't say anything, nothing more would come out. No words made sense to you right now. Your heart was broken and so were you. You turned to leave, walking tight past the shocked Gemma and towards the door.

"I love you." Her words made you pause but only for a second, the doorknob turned in your hand before you could give it a second thought.

Leaving was harder than you ever imagined but you couldn't stay where you felt unwanted. Your sniffling nose and shallow breathing was your only company as you walked the long street back to your car then back to your lonely apartment that shined with object after object that reminded you of them.

[mermaidmelodyedits]

Return to the Sea: Prologue (19 year old Melody AU)

Author Notes: This fanfic is a retelling of The Little Mermaid 2 Return to the Sea but with Melody at 19 instead of 12. This fanfic was originally posted on my deviantart, and as of 4-25-22 it has 22 chapters and a prologue. You can also find it on fanfiction.net where it also has all 22 chapters and the prologue. I’ll be posting a new chapter to tumblr every week on Saturday, so look forward to that. Thanks for reading! Story starts below

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Return to the Sea Prologue:

The sea is forever singing, rhythmically flowing always. The ocean was always right outside the princess’s window, the water crashing and reaching up to her balcony. Her first memories were gentle ocean spray tickling her face, and a beautiful lullaby sending her to sleep in a satin cradle. The lullabies were a mix of her mother’s singing, and the waves lapping the shore below her. Her mother’s voice was indistinguishable from the ocean’s, she sang every note perfectly in time to the water. The queen sang in time to the sea without taking her eyes off her daughter, never noticing how she only sang when the water was calm, and the surf quiet.

Only a few years before the Princess was born, her parents had been married. Her mother was a princess from a foreign land, who captured her father's heart when he heard her angelic voice. They were married quickly, and their love story was well known throughout the land.

The royal wedding had also ushered unprecedented prosperity into the land, their union uniting lands previously cut off from one another. The changes were felt almost immediately throughout the entire kingdom. Trade prospered, customs, cultures, goods, food, and wealth flowed between the nations.

Even the ocean the kingdom sat on seemed to be rejoicing. It had been fairly common for severe storms to cause endless damage, shipwrecks, and lost lives before the crown prince married. After Prince Eric and Princess Ariel’s wedding day, not a single person perished in the sea. Anyone who was lost to the waves always appeared the next day on the shore, mostly dazed and unharmed.

Needless to say, the royal couple became incredibly beloved by their people. So when the announcement of a royal baby was made, the kingdom met the news with joy and festivities. Royal birth was a very special occasion, and this was the first birth in over 25 years. As soon as the queen was in labor, everyone waited with bated breath outside of the castle waiting for the news. The announcement was made that a Princess was born, and the people celebrated on land for 3 days as mother and baby recovered.

It was custom for the baby to be named and debuted to the world out at sea, on the massive and intricately decorated royal family ship. The same vessel where the queen and king had met, and the same they had been married on. Over a few days, it had been cleaned, decorated, and the air perfumed by thousands of flowers on board. An abalone shell crib was carefully loaded into the innermost cabin, and a crowd gathered at dawn waiting to send them off.

At about noon the proud parents appeared, accompanied by their many servants as they boarded. The queen carried a precious bundle, wrapped in white, and with the king by her side. Only the closest inner circles of the royal family were allowed on board for the voyage. The couple carried their new baby into their quarters, and the ship slowly began to drift from the dock. The entire kingdom burst into a roaring celebration that lasted for hours.

In the warm sunny afternoon, the boat anchored, and despite the lack of a storm, a crystal rainbow had ripped across the sky. Right before sunset, the queen took her precious baby from the crib, gently stroking the tiny face with her fingertips. King Eric came to her side and knew immediately his wife was nervous.

“She is so beautiful, just like her mother.” He whispered into her ear, reassuringly placing his hand on her back. “Do you know what her name is?”

The queen adjusted the baby’s satin dress and bow before looking at her husband.

“She is my song, so her name is Melody.”

At sunset, the world met Princess Melody, and angelic music filled the air from the ocean to the shore. Queen Ariel presented her daughter to her father and sisters, King Triton, and the six crown princesses of Atlantica. Sadly, that was the last day anyone from Atlantica ever saw baby Melody again

It wasn’t long after the sunset that the storm hit. It was within minutes that the sea was a torrenting nightmare. Everyone on deck was scrambling in terror, the crew rushed to get the royal ship back to the docks. The rains and waves rapidly flooded the kingdom streets, people rushing inland and to higher ground.

The magnificent royal vessel sank in the castle harbor and everyone aboard the abandoned ship. The royal couple made it to shore, soaked and shivering. The princess’s baby dress was heavy with water, the baby too exhausted to wail or cry anymore.

A lot of stories and rumors spread throughout the land about what happened that day, and the ensuing tragedies. The storm had only been the start of the problems for the kingdom. The sea seemed to rage all the time, battering the coastline. The water was so dangerous all seafaring was declared illegal by the monarchy, no fishing, no travel, no shipping, nothing.

The wealth, the goods, the trade, and the prosperity disappeared within months. Hardships were abundant, and the people grew weary and upset. Many believed the birth of the princess triggered cursed times, and it wasn’t long before the royal family went from beloved to despised.

Hate for the monarchy only escalated, and soon the people had become more dangerous to the monarchy than the violent ocean side. Towering thick walls were built around the grounds, guards posted everywhere, and it was turned into an isolated fortress. Very few people came and went from the castle, and the royal family reportedly never left the premises.

Eventually, the sea calmed, and the people rebuilt somewhat. Yet the laws were never lifted, the walls never torn down, and the country never prospered as it once had.

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, 

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

--

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

--

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

--

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

--

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

--

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

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

tags: @tastedlikedamnation

[muchadoaboutbucky]

all the time in the world | oneshot

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Native American!Reader WORD COUNT: 3,954 WARNINGS: slow burn, eventual smut, fluff, minor injury NOTE: Imagine if Bucky hadn’t been injured in Civil War and went on the run with everyone else. The reader’s face claim is Crystle Lightning. I also used Sebastian’s “Destroyer” look for inspiration as well. Enjoy!

⭒ become a patron for just $3 ⭒

I do not consent to minors (17-) reading my work.

It’s been six months since Siberia. Six long, rough months of dodging the government and living off the grid. No phones, no computers, no connection to the outside world other than the daily newspapers you manage to pick up. 

Living in close quarters isn’t the easiest. The jet doesn’t have the best sleeping quarters, just five open bunks on the lower level. The other two have become storage, a cluttered mess of papers and empty weapons boxes and ammunition that has yet to be organized. 

It doesn’t help that you and Bucky have become a little more than friends.

He’s become different since you went on the run. He’s quiet, broody, and absolutely merciless when it comes to getting a mission done. To say the sight of the former assassin taking down the bad guys with nothing but a couple weapons and his bare metal hand doesn’t get you all kinds of riled up. 

The five of you have just finished up a weekend in Portugal. A weapons bust had gone almost perfectly to plan, with the small exception of you getting a bullet graze on your thigh from one of the barely-alive arms dealers on your way out the door. You’d hit the ground hard, and before you could say anything or make a move to recover, Bucky scooped you off the ground and took the fire escape all the way up to the roof and into the jet without a second glance back.

Fortunately the medical bay’s been fully restocked, and Nat quickly gets you on the examining table while Sam takes off, the jet’s cloaking technology vanishing instantly into the dark three-am sky.

“Suit off,” Nat directs, reaching into one of the storage cupboards for a prepped cleaning kit. You strip out of your suit, wincing as the fabric grazes your wound. Natasha bends to examine the wound, gently pressing along the edges with a gloved finger.

“No stitches, please,” you mutter.

“Nope, you won’t need those.” Nat grabs an antiseptic wipe. “Just some bandages and you’ll need to take it easy for a couple days.”

You grumble. “Gross.”

“Could be worse.” Nat dabs the antiseptic wipe along the thin red line of your injury, and you wince, trying not to jerk away. “So… you and Barnes, huh?”

You frown, glancing down at the shimmer of her red hair. “What?”

She chuckles. “He carried you outta there like his ass was on fire. You two’ve been dancing around each other for a couple months.”

Your cheeks flush hot. “We just… it’s complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” She smiles. “Two people like each other, they go out on a couple dates, maybe they fall in love.”

“It’s not like we have a lot in common,” you explain. “It’s just fooling around, right now, at least.”

If ‘fooling around’ counts as the time he pinned you up against the side of the jet and kissed the shit out of you with his thigh between your legs… or the time he’d waited for everyone else to be occupied with organizing the weapons closet before tugging your panties aside and sliding two fingers deep inside—

“You don’t have to bond over all the bad stuff.” She tosses the wipe into the trash and peels the wrapping off a patch of gauze. “Maybe you have small similarities. Maybe you both like chocolate, maybe you used to go to the same park as kids. It’s the little things.”

As slick and smart as she is, Natasha has no idea about the dirty things you and Bucky have done in the dark.

“I’m just not sure it would work.” You peer down when she lays a pair of large Band-Aids over the patch of gauze. “He’s a little more rough around the edges than I am, he’s still adjusting to this whole modern-life thing, I’m not sure saying ‘hey, you wanna be my boyfriend’ in the middle of it would be smart.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Oh please, he knows what he wants, he’s just afraid to ask for it. Men are like that.”

The privacy curtain slides back, and you and Natasha look up so fast you both nearly get whiplash. Bucky’s standing there, eyes wide as he takes in the full sight of you sitting on the table, clothed only in a plain black bra and panties. 

“Oh.” He swallows, and his cheeks flush bright red. “Never mind, I was just—”

Natasha grins. “Barnes, if you have something to say—”

The curtain swishes shut, and the heavy tread of his boots fades away. You giggle, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He’s never seen you this degree of undressed before, much less seen a naked woman in the last several decades. 

“Teach him how to knock,” Natasha jokes, sweeping the used kit into the trash and tugging her gloves off. “I’ll grab you some clothes, we don’t need all the men stroking out from seeing a pair of boobs.”

***

You emerge from the medical room dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tee shirt. Steve and Sam are settled comfortably in the pilots’ seats, and Natasha herself has changed into flannel pants and a one of the tee shirts she’s stolen from Sam. 

Bucky’s nowhere to be found.

“We’ll find somewhere to land in a couple hours,”  Steve says, glancing back at you. “How’s your leg, kid?”

“Hurts, but I’ve had worse.” You offer a smile before turning to Nat. “Where’s Bucky?” you ask her silently. 

“Downstairs,” she replies, the corner of her mouth turning up into a little smirk. “Alone.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning as you head to the descending ladder for the lower level. Bucky’s sitting on the floor, earphones on, eyes closed. He somehow hears you approach, because he opens his eyes and reaches up to pull the scuffed headphones off and pause the old cassette player clutched in his left hand.

You’re so used to him being big and strong and dominant. Now he just seems… weary. A side you don’t see very often.

“Hi.” You slide down to sit next to him. “It’s late, Nat and I are going to bed, you should wash up and get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he replies softly. 

“Are you worried about walkin’ in on me half naked?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. Since almost shaving it off, it’s grown back, and he almost looks like he used to back in his time.

His cheeks flush. “You were a little more than half naked.”

“It’s not a problem, I didn’t mind.” You rest your head on his shoulder. “You look exhausted, you should really get some rest.”

“I’m not tired.” Bucky sets the cassette player and headphones on the floor next to him. “Been trying to get some alone time with you for a long time, and tonight when you went down… I just got a lot of ‘what if’s’ goin’ on in my head.”

You hum. “I’m fine. My leg hurts and Nat’s gonna kill me if I don’t take it easy, but—”

“I wanna take you somewhere.” He turns to face you. “I hate dancin’ around like this, and I get that it’s risky for us to be… involved, or whatever we’re trying to be, but…” he swipes his tongue over his lower lip, “I think we deserve one night where we aren’t gonna be sleeping in these stupid bunks. Just you and me.”

You wrap your fingers through his warm metal ones. “We do have that tent in the storage cupboard… we could make a camping night of it?”

He sighs. “I want a real bed. In a real… house, or hotel, or whatever, but I wanna be alone with you. We deserve that, we’ve been playing back and forth for the last six months and I’m tired of it.”

Smiling, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “What else do you want?”

He lets out a soft breath before tipping his head back against the wall. “I wanna make love to you, and I can’t do that in a stupid little bunk where three other people can see us.”

You stifle a flustered giggle in his chest. “We can still fool around, Bucky.”

He grunts, dissatisfied. “Can’t you pretend your leg is worse than it is and they can drop us off somewhere?”

“I don’t know, they’ve seen me walking just fine.”

“You could be in shock and not know how bad it is.”

“Bucky.” You slide onto his lap and cup his face. “I’ve been in shock before, several times, and I’m not in shock.”

He smiles lazily, skimming his hands up your sides. “Really? You look a little cold.”

“Because we’re at fifteen-thousand feet,” you kiss him softly, wincing when your bandage pulls, “and Sam’s slacking on fixing the temperature regulator.”

“Maybe I should take you somewhere with a fireplace.” He peers at you through the dim light. “I could do a lot with that.”

“Oh yeah?” You run a finger over his cheek. “Like what?”

He grins wolfishly. “Put some blankets out in front of the fire… get you all warm and toasty before I make love to you.”

You bite your lip, shifting on his lap. “Bucky…”

“Hmm?”

“Hearing you talk about making love to me isn’t making the fact that I really want that right now any better.”

He chuckles. “I can be quick, you know that.”

“I’m not having our first time on the jet floor.” You stand up, pulling on his metal arm. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

He stands obediently, eyes raking up your bare thighs and the bandage on as he rises. “You know, you look really hot with a bandage on your thigh.”

“Oh, so you’re glad I got shot?”

“I didn’t say that.” He wraps his arms around your waist. “I mean I like seein’ you with things on your thighs. Holsters… those thigh-high socks you wore a month ago, that made me…” he shivers and digs his fingers into your hips.

“Freak,” you giggle. “Bucky, if you don’ let me go...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Mmm.” You slip a teasing finger into his belt.

He grins, slowly backing you up until your shoulders press against the steel wall. In a playful attempt to duck away, you try to slip just to his left, and warm metal wraps around your arm, pinning you firmly in place. 

“Hold on,” he mutters, “you think you can just do that and walk away?”

You let out a long, soft moan when he presses his lips to yours, stepping up so close you can feel the firm heat of his body. Your fingers twist in his shirt, and he slots a knee between your thighs, careful to avoid your injured one as flesh fingers twist into your hair. He hums when you give an instinctual push of your hips against the rough fabric of his pants, and you 

“Better rest up, then, honey.”

You giggle when he lands a firm swat on your ass and scamper up the ladder, heaving yourself onto the upper level with Bucky close behind you. The grin on Bucky’s face earns you a quizzical look from Sam, but you roll your eyes and head down to your bunk, making sure that nobody can see before stretching up on your toes and giving Bucky a goodnight kiss. 

***

The jolt of the jet landing just over four hours later wakes you. You sit up, almost banging your head on the top of your bunk, and curse Sam for winning Rock Paper Scissors for the top one. You emerge blearily, shoving your privacy curtain aside with a grimace as a ray of sunlight smacks you in the face.

“Ow,” you mutter as Sam drops down from the bunk above you, “what time is it?”

“It’s late morning,” Steve replies, emerging from the cockpit. “We’re in Austria. Found us a place to lay low for a couple days. We’re gonna have to do a little bit of hiking and wear disguises when we check in, but the jet’s on stealth mode. Town’s about a twenty-minute walk away.”

Town. Thank God.

The four of you stumble around, stuffing things into your bags and checking your nanomasks before stepping off the jet. It’s a brisk morning, and you tug a jacket over your shoulders as you take in your surroundings. 

Steve’s touched down in a large field of flowers. The jet’s invisible to your eye when the hatch closes, and you set off to the East, keeping your heads low as you head into a more-populated area and onto busy streets. There’s a market across from the closest hotel, and you make a note to sneak out and get some of the pretty fruits and breads on display.

When you get up to the counter, Steve shoves a wad of cash from his duffel bag at the attendant and asks for two rooms, which you get with a three-night guarantee.

“Okay,” Sam murmurs once you’re in the elevator heading up to your floor, “who shares with who? I’m not havin’ Barnes hogging all the covers again.”

“Mmm, you won’t.” Natasha slips you a sly look. “Barnes and Y/N together, I’ll share with Steve, so you, Sam, can have all the covers you want.”

You cast a quick glance at Bucky and find his cheeks stained bright pink. “That’s fine,” you cover when he fails to respond, “we’re gonna get some rest anyway.”

Nat smirks when the elevator doors slide open, and you roll your eyes before accepting the key card Steve offers you. “Sure, sure,” she replies, “make sure it’s a good rest.”

You give her a playful glare as she follows Steve and Sam into their room and closes the door, leaving you and Bucky to slip into your room across the hall with burning faces.

It’s definitely not the biggest—or best—room that you’ve ever stayed in, but it’ll do the trick. The bed is king-sized, with several lumpy-looking pillows stacked on a thin white comforter. You set your bag down on the floor and toe off your boots, stretching your arms over your head while Bucky goes to inspect the bathroom. 

“It’s not bad,” he calls out, “just a shower stall, no tub.”

“That’s good enough for me.” You tug a fresh set of clothes out of your duffel and snag your almost-empty toiletries from the front pocket. “You wanna go first, or…”

“Nah, you.” He runs a hand up your back and leans in to press his lips against yours. “I’m gonna try and get some shut-eye. I never sleep well on the jet.”

You hum against his mouth, grateful for the sudden solitude. “I’ll be out in fifteen. Knock if you need anything, ‘kay?”

He smiles and slumps down on the bed, watching you slip into the bathroom and leave the door slightly ajar. 

The water pressure isn’t too bad. It’s been a few days since you’ve been able to properly clean up, and your hair gets washed thoroughly, pits get shaved, well… everything that isn’t permanently done gets shaved, and you emerge from the steam-filled shower dressed in panties and a tee shirt, towel held to the now-exposed wound on your thigh. Bucky’s stretched out on the bed, a pillow tucked under his head, eyes closed. The medical kit’s in his bag, and you tug it free and watch one crystal-blue eye open as you perch on the edge of the bed.

“How’s that?” His eyes rake over the bare skin of your thigh as you pull it away to inspect the slowly-scabbing graze. 

“Healing.” You gently poke at the angry bruise along the side and wince. “I still need to bandage it.”

Bucky sighs, watching you tug out a roll of gauze and tape. “Want some help with that?”

You smile gladly in return. “Please?”

“You got it.” He slides off the bed and reaches for the paper-wrapped supplies. Nimble fingers tear open the packets, and you lean back as he kneels on the carpet, flesh hand gently splayed out against your knee as he gently lowers a folded strip of cause to cover the exposed flesh. Medical tape snaps off between his teeth, and you watch him lay four strips, one on each side until he’s satisfied that your injury is sufficiently protected. 

“Thanks.” You reach over and rub the top of his head. “So walking in on me in just my bra and panties didn’t… that didn’t bother you?”

He chuckles. “No, it didn’t bother me. Just surprised me.”

You giggle. “Really? ‘Cause you looked like a total virgin.”

“Shush.” He kisses your knee and gazes up at you, eyes wide and almost deceivingly innocent. “Not a virgin, honey, just… you look hot in that suit, and seeing you out of it was… a shock. Good shock.”

***

The rest of the day passes slowly, with you and Bucky dozing in and out of naps until Sam knocks on the door, asking if Bucky wants to go to the market outside. You watch him leave, donning his nanomask and swiping a couple bills from the plastic bag he keeps in his duffel before slipping out the door. 

He’s back in an hour, carrying a large paper bag full of what looks like bread and fruit and all kinds of goodies. You eat slowly, sneaking kisses between bites of fresh, juicy watermelon for a mock-dessert. 

Around six, Natasha comes by, inviting you to the other room for a much better dinner of pizza and drinks… which, as it turns out, hasn’t even been delivered yet. You and Bucky spend the first ten minutes enduring innuendo from Natasha, which Steve is quick to defend, although he snorts at one comment about peaches that makes Bucky choke on his bottle of ale.

The pizza finally arrives, three boxes to cater to two supersoldier appetites, and you’re able to unwind, laughing and joking and teasing each other until it’s late and Sam starts to yawn incessantly. You and Bucky make an excuse for being tired as well, and Natasha watches you leave with a glimmer in her eye as the door swings shut.

The moment you and Bucky are safely tucked in the seclusion of your room, he pulls you into his arms and plants a warm, sweet kiss on your lips.

“Baby,” he breathes, “we only got three nights here and I… I wanna take you, tonight…”

You giggle. “Bucky, we’re not in your time anymore. You can tell me what you want.”

He swallows, metal fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. “I wanna make love with you.”

You roll your eyes and wind your arms around his neck. “Is that all?”

He grumbles. “Baby, you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

“Sorry.” You stretch up on your toes and kiss him again, hips rubbing deliciously against his. “Only thing I need to be hard is this… and looks like you’re way ‘head of me.”

Bucky groans, breaking away to tug your shirt over your head. “If you keep doing that, you’re not gonna feel it for a while.”

You bite your lip, watching him strip his own shirt and toss it to the ground. Before you can do anything else, he lifts you up, careful to avoid your injured thigh, and lays you out on the bed, reaching for your pajama shorts and tugging them down to leave you in just a plain pair of panties. 

Now he’s nervous, you can see it in his eyes. He’s had you open before, got his fingers wet inside your pussy, and kissed the shit out of you until you could barely breathe, but he’s never had you completely naked and exposed.

“Hey.” You reach for his hand, guiding it to the little blue bow between your hips. “It’s okay, baby.”

He chuckles, easing his fingers beneath the elastic and watching with held breath as he teases them down, letting them fall off the edge of the bed with a soft pat. His palms smooth down the insides of your thighs, spreading you open, and when he trails the pad of his thumb over your clit and you press your hips up to get closer, he lets out a strangled groan and curls over you, completely helpless. 

Your hands push at his sweats, and you giggle when he clumsily kicks them down over his feet, leaving himself completely bare for you as well. When your fingers drift to wrap around his thick, heavy shaft, he stops, gritting his teeth against the side of your neck.

“Baby…” he clears his throat, raising his head to look at you. “We’re not movin’ too fast, right?”

“Don’t get soft on me,” you reply, “we’re good, Bucky, I’m happy, I wanna feel you…”

He nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Good, it’s just… it’s been a long time and—”

“Shhh.” You rub your hands over his hips. “I don’t care, I just want you.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, and he reaches down to grab himself, experimentally running the swollen tip of his cock through yout pussy until he finds your opening, and you grab on tight, a cry of pleasure dying in your throat as he pumps his hips forward and sinks in. 

“Ahh, fuck—” he grunts quietly against your lips when your nails dig into his ass, “baby…”

You can’t even find the words to reply. He’s so deep, thick and hot and pulsing inside where your body grips him tight. All you can do is give a little tug, trying to urge him on, and he gives you what you want without question. 

All sense of awkwardness or anxiety melts away as he props himself up on both arms, watching your body roll and move under his as he searches a rhythm, inexperience getting the better of him when his hips stutter and slide. He finds it, a steady, rough beat back and forth that makes your clit rub against the skin above his cock and high-pitched sighs and whimpers to rattle in your throat.

“C’mere,” he pants, hooking his flesh arm under your shoulders to keep you close, and you brace yourself as his thrusts grow hard enough for your bodies to slap together. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to feel this good that when his lips find one nipple and latch on, your body decides to follow its own path. 

All it takes for you to cum is a few quick rolls of your clit under your fingers, and Bucky lets out a choked gasp when he feels the rapid contractions, burying his face in the crook of your neck and matching your moans with his own, panting harder and louder as he stutters, pushes in as far and hard as he can, and cums with a growl that resonates deep in your soul as you wrap your legs tight around his waist.

You come back to reality slowly, sweaty bodies sticking as he drops down over you, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips. 

“That was fast,” he murmurs, “sorry, baby, I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay.” You run your fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long time for me too, it was… that was good.”

“Good.” He chuckles and pulls away, watching the first dribble of white slide from your core. “We got three more days to make it longer, huh?”

“Yeah.” You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining with his. “Right now, we have all the time in the world.”

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