#ah yes. the moment that made me feel like I was chewing on glass.

[braceletofteeth]

— I thought about how you would feel, so I didn't dare say anything.

— Shutting me out like this doesn't make me feel better.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part V

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

V. Talking In Bed

You didn’t exactly pack sexy pajamas, so you make do with an old t-shirt you cut the neck out of, and your nicest pair of panties, forgoing your old sweatpants that are a size too big and have a hole in the leg.

“Is that…a rat?” asks Frank, looking at your t-shirt with a raised eyebrow.

You chortle while looking down at the grinning animal howling at the moon emblazoned on your chest.

“It’s a possum. I made it in art school…five million years ago.”

“Somehow, it suits you.” 

You laugh, crawling into bed with him.

As it turns out, it doesn’t stay on long anyway. You snuggle up together, having a glass of wine in bed, watching a medical drama. When the wine is gone, your attention soon turns from bad tv to making out. Frank asks between kissing you, “So was it Keith who made you feel like you take too long?”

The answer is absolutely yes. He’d guilted you for wanting your own pleasure, complained when you tried to direct him how to touch you, and that affected you forever with other partners, truth be told.

“Ah…yeah.”

“What a prick.”

You can’t help but laugh between kisses that curl your toes. “Agreed.” A moment later you pose, “Is it weird we're talking about your brother in bed?”

“Half-brother. And we've been bashing him all weekend. Why stop now?” 

You sigh, still laughing a little. “Fine. Yes. He traumatized me for life, the asshole.” 

As you say this Frank is kissing down your body. It feels wonderful, but you miss his full mouth on yours. “Hey. Where are you going?” you say, trying to pull him back up. 

“I'll give you three guesses,” he offers, pulling up your t-shirt to kiss your belly.  

“You don't...” Your breath hitches as his tongue dips into the waistband of your panties. Oh god. “…Have to do that.” 

“Have to?” He pulls down your panties a little with his teeth. You watch him down your body with a mixture of amusement and something unnervingly warm in your chest. He should look absurd like this, trying to chew through the strap of your underwear. When in fact…he moves you to the tips of your toes.

“What if I want to?” he asks. 

“Do you?” Somehow, you find it hard to believe. No one ever has wanted to before. It’s always a matter of course, and you sense they don’t enjoy it, which adds to your own anxiety about it all.  

“Yes.” 

That single word—and maybe his tongue exploring your hip, makes you squirm. 

“I like it,” he affirms again. 

“Really?” 

You sound so incredulous. 

“Yes. And, let me tell you something I hope you carry with you after this weekend. Anyone who gives head as good as you do deserves cunnilingus. Copiously.”

You giggle a little, and your panties are dragged down your hips. 

“Frank?”

“Present,” he says to your pubic bone, brushing your downy curls with the tip of his nose.

“I—”

But then his tongue touches your center, and you absolutely forget what you were going to say. 

“You can take as long as you want, baby.” 

The flat of his tongue running up your slit is a marvel, and you don’t think this will take long at all. “Oh.” It only gets better, as this man toys with your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you languorously. Pleasure begins to fill in between your legs, a warm, maddening pressure that makes you arch against him. “Oh god... oh fuck...You're really... good at this.” 

He moans in answer against you, that deep grumble that vibrates through your entire body. The most brilliant feeling coils and throbs inside you, insistent and inevitable.

“Frank... I'm going to cum.”

He makes a sound of encouragement, or so you assume. This orgasm breaks over you like the dawn, slow and scintillating, warm as sunlight. The tingling rush fills the cradle of your hips and spreads up your spine. You arch off the mattress, fighting not to crush his head between your thighs as this consuming sensation has its way with you. He licks you through the aftershocks, until you writhe and beg for mercy from overstimulation. 

He wipes his mouth on the sheets before climbing up your body, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on him, earthy with a hint of salt. You feel the blunt tip of him nudging at your entrance, and you crave the stretch of him entering your body like you need air to breathe. 

“Please?”

He slides inside you like you have always been his to claim, rocking his hips slowly until he's sheathed to the hilt. You are so sensitive after orgasming on his tongue, but it's wonderful. Everything is wonderful, and you wrap your legs around his hips, somehow managing to pull him deeper with a heel on his firm buttocks. 

“Fuck,” he sighs into the bend of your neck. “You are—” He bites down on whatever he was going to say about you, making another primal sound that raises gooseflesh all over your body. He takes this round slow too, and you love just feeling him, running your hands over the powerful contours of his body, the muscles of his arms and back as he unhurriedly fucks you into the mattress. 

“Think you can cum again?” he asks between kisses.

“I…don’t know,” you answer truthfully. The first orgasm was so complete—and the two before that, don’t forget—and you’re feeling pretty fucking satisfied with this day.

“Hmm. Can I flip you over?”

Although you’ll be sad to lose him in this perfectly connected missionary position, you nod. Maybe it was feeling too intimate for him. It was certainly…intense, for you, and maybe you need to pump the brakes before you start catching all these feelings for this man who obviously isn’t optimistic about the staying power of human relationships.

But then, you can’t help but muse, as he positions you on your stomach with pillows under your hips, that he doesn’t touch you like something disposable meant for his own pleasure. He touches you like he might break you if he’s not careful, like he can’t quite believe you’re real under his big hands and strong fingers.

Again he sheathes himself inside you, and a ragged moan is your reward as you tilt your hips and clench around him. You look up to find you can see the two of you reflected in the vintage full length mirror in the corner of the room.

The two of you should look absolutely look ridiculous like this, with your ass in the air, naked, joined. But all you can think is that this moment is beautiful. “Take off your shirt,” you request, and after considering you for a moment, tilting his head to make that lovely dark hair swing down around his eyes, he complies for you.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, and it is utterly electric, a primal thing you feel in the very marrow of your bones, your walls fluttering around his cock buried inside you. You really didn’t think it possible, but just looking at him like this turns you on all over again. “You are gorgeous,” you tell him, and just for a moment his fingers tighten on the meat of your hips, maybe hard enough to bruise.

You don’t mind.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“Only if you mean it.”

“You are,” he answers without hesitation, and he begins to move, sliding completely out of you before plunging back into your tight little hole. He loses himself like that for a minute, using you for his pleasure and you gladly take it all.

“Why don’t you touch yourself?” he pants, slowing down inside you. You feel the strain of it in his back, the shudder in his arms.

“What?”

“Never tried it?”

Not with someone else in bed with you.

“No.” You’ve never been that comfortable with anyone.

“No time like the present.” The glide of his manhood inside you is maddening, his thickness stretching you in such a delicious way.

“You don’t mind that?”

“I’d love it. Take your pleasure, y/n. Use me. Cum on my dick again, I want to feel it.”

He seems so intent on it that you don’t want to deny him. Tentatively you reach between your legs, finding your swollen clit with your middle fingers, the way you would if you were alone…and oh. This is good, with him inside you. Inadvertently you clench harder, chasing your orgasm, the possibility of release not so elusive as you’d thought it would be.

“Yeah, like that baby,” he coaxes, and you glance up to see him with his head thrown back, concentrating on moving rhythmically inside you, for you. The thought fills you with such warmth, it’s as much of a turn on as his cock or your sticky little fingers. He bends over you, bracing himself with one arm so that he can touch your nipple, flicking you between his fingers in a way that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your groin, like throwing gasoline on a bonfire. You whimper, wanting it so badly suddenly and utterly surprised its even possible. You literally did not know your body was capable of this.

“So good,” Frank coaxes in your ear, the soft scruff of his beard against your cheek. “That’s my good girl, give it to me.”

You’re not sure what tips you over the edge; the praise, or the feeling of him utterly surrounding you while completely filling you, the timbre of his deep voice or his clever fingers on your tits or the way he moves his hips, but suddenly you are lost—the explosion of your orgasm hits you with a force that makes you see colors, bright oranges and yellows and peridot greens dance in your mind as your greedy cunt flutters on his cock.

Frank sinks his teeth in your shoulder as he thrusts quickly and deeply inside you, chasing your pleasure and soon following with his own, groaning into your hair. His hips snap against the pillow of your rear end, driving himself as deep as he can as he spills inside you. You feel the hot rush deep in your core, the aftershocks of your orgasm milking him further.

He collapses on top of you; you are too spent to protest. This is how you die; smothered by this beautiful man after the most mind-bending coitus of your life. Eventually you make a muffled sound that sort of sounds like, “I can’t breathe.”

With a satisfied sigh he shifts slightly, but does not abandon you, his heavy arm still looped over your waist, his manhood still sheathed inside you. His breathing deepens behind you, and you find you have zero interest in dislodging him. This is all too sweet, too perfect to be real. You doze together like that for at least half an hour.

He’s the one who stirs first behind you, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear. “This has got to be the most decadent day of my life,” he muses into your hair. “Three rounds of incredible unprotected sex with a beautiful woman I just met a day ago. There has to be some catch. The gods will punish us accordingly for living too well.”

“Is it that hard to believe we’re allowed to have something good for ourselves once in a while?”

“Yes. That’s not how life works. What’s the success rate of a modern IUD?”

“99.8 percent.”

“Hmm. It’s not perfect.”

You snort, if not sleepily.

“Believe me, I am not looking to be a mother any time soon.”

“Ever?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really heard the tick tock of the maternal clock everyone talks about. Giving my life over to the thankless servitude of motherhood doesn’t appeal to me, for some reason.”

“Oh good. I was afraid I was the only one with mommy issues.”

“I do not have mommy issues.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Ok, maybe my mother and I are sort of at odds.”

 “Here we go.”

“She’s never really seemed happy in her conventional stay-at-home mother life-path, but she definitely tried to push it on me as the best choice when I was almost too young to know better.”

“There it is.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

He chuckles sleepily, pulling you closer into the warm shelter of his broader body. “Misery loves company.”

“What about you?”

“What what about me?”

“Do you…want kids?”

“I would rather be dead in a ditch.”

“Wow. Ok then.”

“Being alive is such a miserable farce, why would I knowingly inflict it on innocent children?”

You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “Suddenly, it doesn’t seem all bad.”

“Think of all the pain you’ve gone through to get to this moment. Or maybe, that perfect, fleeting moment a little while ago, more like, the afterglow of which we are still enjoying. Was that really worth it?”

“Maybe.”

“For a half-tolerable day with a stranger who you’re never going to see again?”

This causes you to freeze in his grasp, holding your breath. For a long moment you feel like even your heart ceases to beat. “You…never want to see me again?”

It’s his turn to still behind you. “Not necessarily. That’s just…how these things go.” You can’t tell if he’s sad about it, or just resigned, the way he’s resigned to everything being total shit.

“They…don’t have to? If we decide…different?”

“Come on, honey. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Take exception to feeling like a throw away cocksleeve?”

“Did you expect me to propose?”

“Of course not. I just…you couldn’t even pretend until tomorrow morning that maybe I meant a little to you?”

Suddenly your throat is too tight, and your vision is clouded with tears. It hurts. Everything just hurts, and somehow it hurts worse now than when this whole fucking misadventure started.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, sliding out of bed. The air feels so cold without his furnace of a body wrapped around you.

“Y/n. Please don’t go.”

“Being around you feels like being electrocuted,” you blurt, looking desperately through the bedclothes for your panties. Where the fuck did he put them?

He slumps at hearing that, suddenly very interested in the wall.

“I get that a lot.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” you try to explain, unable to see very well through the film of your tears. Great. Nothing like having an argument with your beaver out.

“Oh yes. The good kind of electrocution,” he snarks, though there is a spark of what might be hope in his dark eyes.

“There is just something about you. You don’t mince words for anyone, you constantly tell the truth, and it’s exciting and low key uncomfortable, and I get some weird little rush out of knowing you might insult me any minute and then I get to verbally spar with you and you have some brilliant riposte for anything I say, it’s the most fun I’ve had with any man in a long time, and this whole weekend I’ve had this prickly heat just crawling under my skin and I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

 “You really talk it up, when you put it that way.”

You are so relieved, when anger arrives on the battlefield, and you’re able to get your shit together well enough to actually think.

“Look,” you say forcefully, pointing at him. “I usually fucking hate it when people say things happen for a reason.”

“Yes. It’s incredibly conceited.”

“Right. Because it implies when bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it, it was good somehow?”

“Go on.”

“But what if…”

“Oh God.”

“What if we met here, for a reason? Like my whole horrible fucking ordeal with Keith was somehow a trial…that brought me here to you?”

Immediately he shakes his head, something like panic in his eyes.

“Oh no. We’re not doing the this was meant to be thing.”

“You won’t even consider the sliver of a possibility?”

“You don’t even like me.”

“Who said I don’t like you?”

“No one likes me!”

“I do like you.”

He actually growls at this, as though the concept is so foreign, the possibility is terrifying.

But you also know that getting involved with a man like this is a bit like petting an abused dog. At any moment if it perceives you look at it wrong, it might snap, it might hurt you. With words, in Frank’s case, but to your tender heart that’s almost the same as taking a physical blow. Yet…you do not care. Because when things are good with this man…they are splendid, and you feel like it’s worth the price.

It’s worth a try, at any rate.

Yet the way he is looking at you—it doesn’t look good.

“You really don’t think this thing we have is special at all?”

You hate how much it hurts, to ask this question.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I am resigned to the fact that this will go no further than this weekend. These things never do. I’ll say I’ll call you, or you’ll say you’ll visit me, but it just never happens, and we waste our time on that glimmer of hope for some tiny aspect of life to not turn out to be complete shit—just to have it snatched away by the march of time.”

“Jesus, it’s so fucking terrible when you say it that way.”

“It’s just the truth. It’s life.”

You shake your head, whirling to go, panties or no. He can watch your bare ass as you walk out of his life forever.

“Wait, come on, don’t go.”

“Why not? What’s the point? What’s the point of anything?”

“Living in the moment?”

“Well, in this moment, I kind of feel like shit, so I think I’ll bounce.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because you like my company?”

“Yes.”

“Is it so fucking hard to admit that?”

“Yes, because any time I ever have the naivety to admit the slightest fondness for anything, the universe finds a way to snatch it away.”

You march back to the bed, jumping up to sit on the corner just out of reach with your arms crossed. You wait, looking around.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting to see if the universe strikes me dead.”

He gives that growling sigh that you are finding increasingly endearing as you get to know him. “Come here,” he says, holding out his arms.

Finally you crawl to him, and some restlessness settles inside you when he pulls you against him. From the small sigh he gives, you think he might feel the same way, and his grip tightens on you a little more. You’re not sure who kisses who, exactly, just that your mouths are pressed together, and for a little longer it seems like something is going right in the world.  

“If you haven’t noticed…I’m kind of a huge asshole.”

“Yeah,” you agree, and he snorts into the top of your head. “But you know what? You’re also kind of sweet…sometimes.”

“It’s a curse.”

“Only if you treat it that way.”

It just makes him hold you harder.

“No one can put up with me for long, y/n. Not even my own mother. My own father tried to kill me. It’s just facts. That’s why we’re going to enjoy the rest of this weekend, and when we get back home, we’re going to part as friends.”

You sigh, leaning even more against him. The film of tears is back, and you hide under his chin.

“You’re not even willing to try?”

“I’m doing you a favor. Believe me. I am what I am and it’s too late to fix me.”

“What if I don’t think you’re broken?”

“Very funny.”

“I meant it when I said I like you.”

“I like you too. It’s more than I can say for most people. Want to watch a movie or something?”

You nod, and you settle in together under the blanket to watch some stupid action flick. You can’t really focus on it, because Frank’s arms are around you, and it still feels like you have a live wire sparking under your skin.

[chibi-celesti]

EXEC_ZENVA=RYUSSE >> FLEUR_CITY, Part 2: Departure

~Twisted Tonelico~

~Night Raven: Mirror Chamber~

It was early dawn at Night Raven College. All students that were chosen to go were all accounted for, their bags packed and ready to go. While many were caught off by Malleus’s sudden announcement of being given an extended Invitation by Noble Bell’s very own Student Council President, they were all still excited for this trip. Some of them for educational purposes, others were more curious about what made this Arcane Trip so special.

As soon as Meryu and Grim had arrived, everyone minus Deuce, Epel, the prince himself, and his retinue were surprised about them traveling as well. That was, until Meryu explained their situation to them. “Ah, so it was your doing,” Riddle said, glaring at Grim and disappointed by his actions.

“Please be easy on him, Mr. Riddle. He was already chewed out by the Doctor.” Meryu reasoned. “Besides, I don’t mind going. I just wish it was done without him being a troublemaker again.”

The Red Rose Tyrant relented on correcting the dire beast, and instead chose to congratulate them on tagging along. “It is a pleasure to accompany you, Melenas-san.”

“Likewise, Mr. Riddle.” She then gave the Fae a quick glance, and smiled. Happy to see him invited to something by another. And the same city nonetheless.

“The old coot is really letting you go?” Idia questioned her. “You know what’ll happen if you do, right?”

“I do, Mr. Shroud.” She said firmly.

“And all the more reason for some careful planning in advance!” Crowey suddenly appeared behind the Ignihyde Housewarden, making him shriek and rush to hide behind Azul and Jamil.

“Oi! What’s with the Jumpscare, Headmage?!”

Both second years were annoyed by the otaku’s behavior. “Please refrain from using me as a shield, Idia!”

“What are you talking about, sir?” Ruggie asked, tuning them out.

“As some of you are no doubt aware, Ms. Melenas is a…delicate case.”

“The term you’re looking for is Glass cannon.”

Rook agreed. “Oui. Sa beauté et sa magie sont aussi puissantes que fugaces. Yet, you are allowing her to go?”

Crowley began his explanation. “After some discussions and planning, we managed to make an exception that allows her to travel safely on this trip. She has been christened with a song that will allow her to temporarily allow a special host to be her Source of Life.”

“Her [Ar Tonelico], right?” Silver said, to which the Headmage agreed.

“Ms. Melenas, if you may please,” The girl bowed quickly and began to sing to the Dark Mirror. Her tuning with the Artifact summoned the being within and they began to perform as one. Their performance caused the mirror to begin glowing brightly.

Once the song had ended, the Mirror remained glowing. It's light ready for the party to go across. “We're all set!” She announced.

“Splendid!! Take care everyone! And don’t forget that I do not mind any inquiries you’ve gathered from this trip.” (In other words, he was bribing them to buy a souvenir from the City.)

It was Prof. Trein’s turn to give the students a warning. “Remember, students. You all represent Night Raven College. and all its glory. Any trouble you cause will reflect poorly on the school. Understand?”

“Yes, Prof. Trein./ Yes, Sensei.”

And with that, everyone proceeded into the Dark Mirror, traversing beyond the borders of Sage’s Island, and opening up a part of the world yet to be seen.

~Fleur City, Noble Bell College: Lecture Hall~

The moment their feet had touched the ground and the light dimmed, the NRC group had arrived to the infamous Noble Bell College: The hosts of this Arcane School Trip. The Hall was huge, almost as if it were a Cathedral’s prayer Hall rather then one dedicated for scholarly purposes like at NRC. Massive stained-glass windows shined down the early mid-morning sun’s rays, coloring the room. Everyone was awestruck by the beauty of it all.

Meryu was the first to voice her feelings. “Wow! I’ve never seen something so, so…”

“Beautiful?” Malleus finished her sentence.

“Yes.” She blushed.

“This place is ginormous!” Grim exclaimed. “I can barely see the ceiling!”

From far away, a young man no more than 18 years of age and his two trusted aides were making their way to greet them. The uniforms for Noble Bell differed vastly from NRC and its rival school. While the aides wore simplified versions of the uniform donned in maroon, black and purples, his stood out to showcase his status as the Student Council President of Noble Bell: He wears a tricone robe that stops by his calves, with heeled shoes with his coat also sporting some curtain like fabrics on the back. Unlike his peers who wear berets, his cap was more akin to an old 15th design, and it appeared that some type of soft, purple scarf draped from the back of it. Underneath his hat was white hair cropped very short.

His emerald eyes, judging them every single Mage of Night Raven, hardened in disgust at the sight of the High Prince of Briar Valley himself. ‘Such vile creatures. All of them.’ He thought to himself. But the moment his eyes laid onto the magicless Prefect, he felt his heart freeze at the sight of her. No words would do any justice for this boy to describe her beautiful and other worldly form in his mind(makes sense since she was said to be from a world without magic). Shaking away those musings, he stepped forward to introduce himself to their ‘guests’.

“Greetings, everyone. It is a pleasure to meet Night Raven College’s finest students,” He said. “I am Rollo Flamme, the student Council President of Noble Bell College. It is wonderful to meet you all.” He extends his arms in a welcoming gesture.

Prof. Trein comes forward to introduce himself. “It is our pleasure as well. We look forward to seeing what your school and the rest of Fleur City has to offer. I know I’m happy to visit this place once again.”

Again? Mr. Trein came here before? Meryu wondered as the professor proceeded to introduce each student by name. Some shook hands with Rollo, others exchanged verbal pleasantries with him instead. As he came to both her and Grim, the latter had boasted his name and place as the ‘Greatest Mage in the making’. Rollo had humored the dire beast before finally facing her. “Hello. I am-”

“Meryu Ptrapica Melenas.”

“Oh,” She didn’t expect him to say her name before she did. “Y-yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Flamme.” She finished with a bow.

“Please. There is no need for that, Melenas-san,” He said to her as she slowly rose herself upright. Her doe eyes staring at him with a naïveté-like charm stirred a spark of heat in his soul. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“Psst! You see this, Deuce?” Epel asked, leaning close to his friend.

“Yeah. His tone changed very quick when speaking with Meryu-san. When he spoke with us, he sounded almost like he was tired and disinterested,” he whispered back.

“Why d’ya think it is?” The spade shrugged his shoulders.

“Whispering is very rude, boys.” Rook said behind them. They both shouted in surprise, scaring Idia in the process and causing him to duck behind Silver and Sebek. Their actions didn't go unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Many sharing looks of confusion, disappointment, or curiosity at the outburst. Embarrassed, the two first years apologized for their rudeness.

Rollo cleared his throat. “Now, then. These two are my most trusted assistants. Our Vice President, Anthony,” He waves his hand to the brunette. “And our aide, Lothaire.” He does so again but to the one with brown hair. “When they heard they would be meeting with students of an esteemed academy such as yours, they stopped everything and came as quickly as they could to greet you.”

Both boys spoke about their excitement and joy of meeting everyone. Compared to the older boy, these two were much nicer and welcoming to their guests. It was a bit odd, not going unnoticed by a few in the group.

Their newest acquaintances offered to escort them to their temporary rooms during their stay and they accepted. Deuce leaned back over to Epel again. “Whatever the reason is, we should try to warn her about Flamme-san. Just in case.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t wanna get on Doc’s bad side again,” They left their discussion at that and followed behind the others. They exited the Lecture hall part of the College, Rollo explaining their school’s history, with Anthony and Lothaire adding additional information as well.

“Mr. Flamme. Your campus has a calming aura, and is thriving with such beautiful flowers and plants,” Meryu admitted. “Are they the school’s doing?”

“Yes and no, Melenas-san,” Anthony answered. “Our city takes pride in its flowers, so both the staff and the people all took part in cultivating them! However, our students also help in taking care of them as well.”

Her eyes shined in amazement. Balancing her familiar in her arms, she went into her school bag(careful not to drop any of her supplements) and pulled out her Ghost Camera. “May I…”

The Vice president laughed. “Go right ahead! We love for visitors to capture the beauty of our school!” He watched as she took photos close of some flowers within the passing courtyard. She even caught some Noble Bell students milling about the place near them, too.

The White haired boy covered his face again with his handkerchief, staring at the girl lovingly before putting it away again. “Our school may be small and not as well known as Night Raven, but we do hope you all are willing to indulge nonetheless.”

“Thank you. Your hospitality is quite delightful,” Malleus complimented him. The prince himself was pleased so far with the trip so far, he didn’t even seem to mind some of the bizarre, harsh looks sent his way from Flamme too much.

“Again, it tis our pleasure, Draconia-san.” Odd. He said that through gritted teeth…Why is that?

They continued their walk closer to the school and then were introduced to the historic figure that Noble Bell pays tribute. A single statue was smack dabbed in front of the building depicts a old, wise man on his horse. His appearance gave off an aura of authority; that he is determined to cast judgement on the guilty to ensure order like the Queen of Hearts, but much, much more impartial.

Looking at him, Ruggie spoke about how the man would scrutinize him if he were to just sneeze, almost mistaking him for a king.

Grim, from his place in his tamer's arms, curiously pointed at the statue. “Who's this guy?”

“This is the Righteous Judge,” Rollo said, his heart filling with pride.

“Righteous…Judge?” Some members of the class were confused by the name.

Riddle helped explain some pieces of his importance to the familiar. “He's an important historical figure. It says so in the history textbooks.”

“That's correct, Rosehearts,” Prof. Trein added. “The Righteous Judge is a prominent figure of Fleur City. You could say, he is just as vidal of an admirable figure like the Great Seven themselves.”

“Precisely. Thank you, Prof. Trein,” Rollo was beaming with pride, eyes focused on the statue before facing everyone again. “It was said to have brought order at a time where criminals and thieves run amok as well. It's thanks to his actions that everyone in Fleur City holds him in high esteem. The students of Noble Bell likewise seek to emulate his honorable conduct.” Most of the group now educated on the Judge’s heroic exploits were in awe of him. Having new found respect for the pious man of legend.

*DING, DONG*

The sound of a bell’s toll sung in the area. It came as a surprise to everyone, and the third year Iginhyde wallflower once again hid within his peers at the sound. “What was that?!”

“Is there anything your not scared of, Senpai?” Jamil looked at him, chuckling at his cowardice.

“Ah, that. What you all hear is the [Bell of Salvation],” Rollo explained.

There’s that name again. “Bell of Salvation?”

“With a name like that, it sounds super grandiose.”

“A name that is well deserved. This bell is an incredibly unique and valuable magical artifact. It has been a part of our school for generations.”

Hearing the importance of such a historical artifact tickled Malleus’ fancy. “I can tell you seem to cherish it, Flamme. Is it comparable to Night Raven College’ Dark Mirror?”

“Most definitely,” The professor told him. “Many arcane academies possess magical aritifacts. Those artifacts become emblematic of their school.” He closed his eyes, thinking of blissful nostalgic days. “It has been many years since I’ve last heard the Bell of Salvation myself.”

Azul looked at him astonished. “You’ve been to this place before, Professor?”

“I have. My wife and I came here for our honeymoon. I remember it at if it were yesterday.”

…

“Grim? Mr. Deuce? Mr. Epel?”

“Hmm?/ Yeah?” They turned to their friend who poked at their shoulders.

“Doesn’t that name sound familiar?” She said quietly.

“What name?”

“[Bell of Salvation].”

“Whatcha mean by that, Mi-” It took them a few minutes to understand her meaning. “Wait! Headmage Crowley said something about that before we came here!”

“Is it possible this Bell he told us is the same one you’re connected to?!” Their friend nodded at their hypothesis. “Think we’ll get to see it?”

“We can take you to go see it for yourselves, if you all wish to,” Lothaire offered.

They all then left toward the towering pagoda connected to the school. The way to reach such a precious treasure was ascending countless flights of stairs. The first few were fine for everyone to climb up just fine. But as they continue their ascend...there were some…exhausted casualties of the stairs. *Cough* Azul and Idia *Cough*

The Octavinelle Housewarden was breathing heavily, his legs feeling like jello. “How..many..stair…cases…are in…this tower?!”

His club member, close to passing out himself, agreed.“Why…is there..no Working ele…vator?! This place…sure could…use one!”

“There should be some broomsticks at this school. We could go back and grab them for you guys,” Epel mentioned.

Meanwhile, two people-Ruggie and Jamil- just looked down and laughed at their classmates' despair. “Aw, Epel. That’s just cruel,” The Viper said.

“Knowing how they struggle in flight class, it definitely won’t end well for them,” Ruggie snickered, continuing to walk ahead of them.

Idia silently wept, knowing he won;t be getting much help from anyone. He looks up where the rest of the group walked up the steps without any issues. Then, his eyes focused on one person in particular. “Oh, if only someone could help us up. Maybe someone who could lift me up when I am down.” He whined hoping they would hear him.

Sadly, his prayers were not answered. “Nope.”

“Huh?” He squeeked when he felt his arm being pulled by a very annoyed Deuce.

“She’s not falling for that again, Senpai,” He said, carrying half of the otaku on his body up the rest of the way.

“Come, Roi des poissons! We must make haste!” Rook added, lifting Azul with help from Epel.

“W-wouldn’t be nicer if Meryu just helped us out?!”

“She can’t. The headmage told her not to.”

“Eh?!” Azul and Idia(mostly the latter)were hoping they were hearing things. “What do you mean Crowley to her not to!”

“This is the first time we’re hearing of this,” Riddle said in shock. “Why is that?”

“He doesn’t want anyone else to know of her powers, remember?”

“Other than STYX and the whole school, no one knows what Meryu really is, and he doesn't want anyone else in the Fleur City to know.”

“... Makes sense. Not many people remember, let alone know what the heck she’s singing half the time.”

“It may be less of the language and more of her powers,” Silver pointed out. Given what all the oddities her powers bring, it’s still too soon for the world to know the presence of Song Mages/ Reyvateil again.

They dropped the subject and continued onward, finally making it to the summit of the edifice where everyone else waited for them. With a dramatic flourish of his hands, Rollo showed them his school’s pride and joy. “Behold before, the Bell of Salvation.”

~EXEC_ZENVA=RYUSSE >> FLEUR_CITY-Tes Biron~

[dangerous-disposition]

Hello! I’m a semi-recent new follower and fellow music autistic! What music/bands are your jam and/or make you lose your mind a little (or a lot)?

AH YES!!! AN ANON AFTER MY OWN HEART!!! ASKING ME ABOUT

My Bands!

Okay, so I'm a Music Autistic with Metal Leanings, so just... be aware of that. However!!! I listen to all kinds of music!!!

I feel like the best way to answer this is to share some of my playlists that are like, my main rotation of playlists.

The short answer for Bands That Make Me Feral:

Sleep Token (like so much omg)

Ghost (I listened to them for an entire year straight nonstop last year like... my Spotify Wrapped Top 5 for 2022 was a Ghost Sweep)

Bad Omens

Motionless in White

Dio

Playlists and stuff beneath the cut for a more In Depth Look into my music brain

So let's start with My Main Playlist. Now, sometimes I add shit to it and then remove it bc this playlist is just... designed to be about the shit that is SLAPPING at the moment

This next playlist is my Sleep Token playlist, which I meticulously ordered the songs, so it is intended to be listened to OFF SHUFFLE and ideally with a 3 to 5 second crossfade activated

The next playlist is a bunch of songs that Something In The Song scratches a Very Specific Part Of My Brain. I can't rly pinpoint what's being scratched but like.... these songs Do It So Good

And the NEXT playlist is my I'm Overwhelmed And Need To Decompress playlist that I usually listen to on my drive home from work most of the week. A lot of these songs are Yelling

The next playlist is just one artist, Barns Courtney, and I love his music but I prefer when he sings in his lower register?? He reminds me of Johnny Cash when he sings low, and I love Johnny Cash, so I made this playlist of the Barns Courtney songs that have more of his lower register singing and my brain is always just chewing on this at all times.

I hope this helps answer your question even more!!! Like these playlists are some of like... the clearest looks into My Brain and how it wraps itself around music and I hope it makes sense laskdjflkasjdf

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[genshin-no-simp]

Diluc x Reader - Birthday Boy (Smut)

Pairing: Diluc x You/Reader (Female)

Sexual conent below the cut

Warnings: semi-public sex, tummy bulge? fluff ending.

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

It took a weeks worth of preparation on your part to get everything in place, all for this one day. This one special day. But it was worth it.

After all, Diluc did deserve rest on his birthday.

You made sure there was nothing that needed doing, nothing that warranted Diluc to leave the comfort of the Manor. You were exhausted but you knew this was only a fraction of the work that Diluc did. It was your motivation to make sure everything was in order, of course with the help of Elzer and Adelinde.

And when the night before his birthday approached, you reassured him that he could take this chance to sleep in for once. Diluc wasn't against the idea but he wasn't sure if his body clock would allow him to sleep in. But little did he know, he was exhausted and only once he hit this pillows did he realize this.

When Diluc had finally woken, he groaned softly bringing his hand up as he ran his fingers through his unruly morning hair, that's when he noticed you weren't beside him. In an instant he shot out of bed, looking around. You never got out of bed before him. About to leave the bed himself his door opened and your figure came into view. You were still in your night dress. Diluc sighed in relief, then raised his eyebrow at the tray.

"What's this?" His voice low and husky since he had just woken up.

You weren't going to lie, his voice was enough to set a fire burning inside you. But today was about him. You smiled with a giggle.

"What does it look like? Breakfast of course. So sit back in bed." You came to his side of the bed.

From this close up Diluc could see properly just how little your night dress left to the imagination. Then he realized, you went to the kitchen like that, and he frowned, anyone could have seen you, which seemed to pissed him off.

"Don't worry I had the kitchen to myself, only Adelinde, Moco and Hillie are here at the moment." You knew what was running through his head. Diluc had a tendency to get overly possessive sometimes. But it's one of his faults that you fell in love with regardless.

Diluc looked away, half embarrassed and half ashamed that you knew without a doubt that he didn't want other people, especially men to see you like this. You gave another soft giggle setting the bed table down.

Diluc cleared his throat and looked at you, "what's the occasion?" He then lowered his gaze to the food and didn't know where to start, everything looked so enticing. He smiled at the eggs that you put a little extra effort in to make look like hearts.

You sat on the opposite side of him careful not to knock the glasses of grape juice over on the tray. You gave a little hum.

"Well what day is it?" You asked him instead. Diluc tilted his head, pulling the fork from his mouth. Once he was finished chewing he spoke.

"Friday." He stated matter of factly.

"Yes, but what date is it?" You cocked your head to the side, watching him. He totally forgot about his birthday didn't he? You thought to yourself.

"Um..." Diluc didn't know why but he felt pressured, as if you would give out to him, if he got this wrong.

Was it your birthday? No that's not till a few months.

Was it your anniversary? No that just passed.

At this point you were struggling to keep your laughter in.

"Luc, come on. It's your birthday." You rolled your eyes laughing.

Then it clicked, it suddenly made sense, from why you told him to sleep in, to breakfast in bed.

"That's it?" He asked, indifferently.

"What do you mean 'that's it's? You only get one birthday, and I'm going to make sure you get the most out of it." Diluc could hardly deny you, not with how passionate you were about it. But it's just another day, birthday or not.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there's still work-"

"I do believe there is nothing for you to do today. Everything is already taken care of. It's you day." This time you were much more calmer as you smiled sweetly at him.

Now he definitely couldn't say no. He had a feeling you did a lot to get him this day of peace. Besides it's been so long since he's actually celebrated his birthday. Not that he cared to remember it considering what happened all those years ago...but maybe now is the time to move on from that, it's getting real tiring anyway.

Diluc smiled at you, yes from now on he will celebrate his birthday with you.

Diluc had to admit, it was nice, having all this free  time AND getting to spend it with you. The two of you spent most your time outside, walking through the vineyard and occasionally eating a grape or two, at one point you started playing hide and seek. Instead of finding it childish, Diluc found it oddly refreshing. Just being able to let loose for once.

Currently he was hiding, making sure to keep his eye out for you and staying on the move, it was cheating of course but it added to the fun, but you were an expert at hide and seek and knew all the tricks in the book. Just as he turned around, you seemingly popped out of nowhere.

"Found yooou~" you giggled tackling him into a hug.

Caught of by both your sudden appearance and the hug he fell backwards onto the ground.

"Thought you could escape me huh?" You nuzzled into his neck.

Diluc chuckled holding you close to his body.

"I thought I would've had a better chance than that." He admitted.

You sat up on his chest, while he propped himself up his elbows. The light from the sun creeped through the cracks of the vineyards many grape pergolas. It wasn't the most private of places but nobody would notice the two of you unless they looked.

Cupping Diluc's cheek, you leaned down to kiss him, which without hesitation he accepted. It was a delicate kiss, both of you could feel the love and affection that you held for each other. It was truly something.

When you went to pull away from the kiss, Diluc pulled you back for more, shifting his weight onto his left arm, his right arm snaked around your waist his hand pressing agaisnt the middle of your back, giving you no chance to move. Diluc wasn't done with you just yet.

Gripping his shoulders you pushed him back down onto his back, Diluc gave a mental sigh finally able to take the pressure off his left arm. Now he had both his around wrapped around you securely. He made you feel so safe, you never wanted to leave his arms but lucky for you, he wasn't going to let go anytime soon.

It wasn't long before his hands started to wander, touching and caressing your body. Soft gasps and pants escaped from you, Diluc used every opportunity to dive into your mouth. The intensity of the kiss was making you lightheaded, but in a good way. Your body burned and your heart was racing. You could tell Diluc was the same, you could feel his heart pounding against his chest right under your hand, not only that but at how brazenly he lifted your pale mint dress up to touch your bare skin. It made you shudder, Diluc had opted to be gloveless today, it was certainly a change in pace compared to his usual leather. Being able to feel his skin on yours right away was making you feel impatient.

Finally allowed to pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva followed. Diluc gazed at you with hooded eyes, his normally bright ruby eyes, dark and heavy with lust. You licked your lips, sitting up on him once again. One of the straps on your dress slipped down your shoulder. Diluc held back his growl and his urge to flip you over. You weren't even trying to seduce him and he was already under your spell.

Gripping your thighs he pushed you lower down until your clothed womanhood rubbed against the bulge in his pants. You failed to catch the moan before it fell from your lips. Diluc smirked, knowing you were just as excited as he was right now.

Diluc was planning on teasing you some more before you had decided to take back some control. Abruptly you grinded yourself against him, biting your lip. It was Diluc's turn to let out a surprised moan as his hips bucked up into yours.

"Ah~ Diluc." You fumbled for his belt buckle. If Diluc wasn't as impatient he would've chuckled and teased you. Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the free time or maybe it was just you. But he wasn't complaining. Diluc hissed in relief, feeling his member finally free of its painful confinement.

You were going to lower yourself further but he grabbed your arm pulling you into a kiss.

"No time for that." He breathed heavily between kisses. Of course there was time he just wasn't interested in that right now, he just wanted you, in which case he used his Vision to burn the sides of your underwear and discard the rest.

Now with your underwear out the way, Diluc could feel how wet you really were. It was cute how excited you had gotten without any foreplay, perhaps the fact that you were technically out in the open played a part but regardless, he was happy that it was him who made you feel like this.

You moaned against the kiss feeling the tip of his member push against your awaiting hole. Breaking away from the kiss you pushed down against him, taking him all in at once.

"Fuck!" It was so strange hearing Diluc swear but it filled you with a strange sense of pride knowing you were able to break his nobility.

The stretch of taking him all at once burned but it felt good. It was certainly much greater compared to when he would prepare you first. But you weren't complaining at all. Tilting your head back with a moan you began to bounce up and down, your slick made it easy to slide up and down. You gripped the front of Diluc's shirt for support as he snapped his hips up into yours. A series of wanton moans escaped your lips, the harder and faster Diluc went.

Your head fell forward your eyes glossy and your pupils blown wide with pleasure. Now both your dress straps had slid down your shoulders, making Diluc lose his mind. He gripped your hips so tight, there wasn't a doubt that there would be fingerprints even through the dress. You choked on your moans as you swore you could feel Diluc in your stomach. He was reaching places you never thought possible, or your were so drunk on pleasure it just felt that way, but it didn't matter what was the truth, it was fantastic.

"Ngh, haA~ mm close..." you struggled to get the words out.

Diluc grunted thrusting upwards even faster, you had struggled to keep up before but now it was just impossible. It wasn't long before you came all over him. Diluc wasn't too far behind, feeling your release edged him into his, you felt his hot seed fill you up more than your already were, you threw your head back with a shameless moan of his name. You were certain everyone around and in the Manor had heard you. But Diluc didn't care, let them know who was and had made you feel good.

You panted heavily as your body shook from the after math of your orgasm. Diluc too was desperately gasping for air as he came down from his high. Letting a soft puff of air, you looked down at Diluc and grinned leaning in to kiss him. He chuckled kissing you back.

Getting off Diluc he fixed his pants as you picked up what was left of your underwear.

"Luc." You pouted, "you ruined my panties." You huffed and rubbed your legs together, you could feel some of his cum dripped down your thigh.

"My love, they were ruined before I even touched them." He winked with a cocky smirk.

Your face flushed a deep crimson as you looked away from him, Diluc smiled wrapping his arm around your waist tenderly.

"Come on, let's go take a bath." He smiled gently, ushering you back towards the Manor. You snuggled into his side contently.

During the short trip back inside, not one of the employees dared to look in your direction. Instead of it making you feel better you felt embarrassed. You weren't surprised that they heard you but they didn't have to make it so obvious.

"Luc, nobody would look at me." You sounded more mortified than you intended as you pulled your dress off, which only added to Diluc's amusement.

"Good, they shouldn't be looking at you in the first place." He stated stripping himself of his own clothes.

Upon returning to Diluc's private quarters, you were both pleasantly surprised by the already drawn bath, with scattered rose petals and scented candles. It seems Adelinde knew exactly what the two of you needed. You were the first to settle into the bath despite Diluc's confusion, usually he got in first so you could rest against him, it felt weird that he was resting against you.

"Are you sure I'm not too heavy against you?" It was the fourth time he asked now.

"Oh for Celestia's sake Luc, I'm not made out of glass, I'm fine. But you won't be if you keep asking." At least you gave him a warning which he took to heart, despite not having a Vision yourself, you were very capable of looking after yourself.

"Alright, alright." Diluc sunk a little lower into the tub, his head now resting between your boobs.

"Oh." He said softly, he hadn't expected this to be so comfortable. You giggled softly.

"Someone looks content." There was a lot of fondness in your voice that made Diluc's chest flutter. He let out a soft hum and closed his eyes when he felt your fingers massage some herbal shampoo into his scalp.

Diluc couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have someone like you. Someone so caring and aware of his needs. He didn't expect to meet someone like you, or anyone in general for that matter. He thought he was going to be alone, forever, and he was okay with that. Until he had met you, he didn't at the time realize just how important you would be to him, but he knows now and he's incredibly grateful towards you and towards himself, for letting him step out of his comfort zone and let someone in again.

Before he knew it, Diluc had fallen asleep, between the soothing heat of the water, your massaging and the sweet sound of your voice, they had all lulled him into sleep.

"Luc? You listening?" You asked softly, "Luuuc~" you cooed. Perplexed with his quietness, you tilted your head to the side to peer into his face, where you noticed he had fallen asleep. You grinned with a giggle.

You were so preoccupied with talking, you didn't notice the change in his breathing, as it steadied out. But now you didn't know what to do. You knew you couldn't stay in the bath but you didn't want to wake him either. But you also knew the water wouldn't go cold anytime soon thanks to Diluc, placing a kiss to his damp hair, you decided to let him sleep for a little while longer. After all he deserved it.

[titanicsimp]

Could you write some smut reader/Zeke/Levi? Btw the one reader/Zeke/Reiner/Porco was ✨✨✨🤤👀👀❤

I worked on this fic for a MONTH thanks to my fever brain <’3

Zeke Yeager x female!reader x Levi Ackerman

cw: threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampies, backshot, double penetration, fingering, biting/marking, rough sex, clit slapping, face slapping (once), spit kink, very minor injury (cut on lip), slight angst

The scent of smoke fills your senses with every soft puff of breath he lets out along your neck, his lips trailing along it like you are made off of the nicotine he’s so addicted to. As his hands dip below the fabric of your shirt, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up here, meeting in the middle of the night in a lonely storage space, in the arms of a man who by all means should be the enemy.

When his lips find yours, you can taste the answer on them. You had been lonely, so lonely. The man you loved had long made it clear he had no intention of being with you, he barely spared you a glance most of the time. When you had confessed how you felt, he had flat out rejected you, no reason had been specified outside ‘I can’t.’. Zeke was the exact opposite of him, not only as a person but also in his interest in you. He didn’t avert his eyes when you passed by, he didn’t give you cold stares, instead he gazed at you with lust without any hesitation or shame.

Was it weak of you to give in to this morally corrupt man so easily? Probably, but you were sick of spending the cold nights on Paradis alone, and Zeke was more than willing to keep you company.

Zeke’s touch feels wrong, yet it awakens a fire inside of you. Every spot he touches seems to tingle with anticipation, and you sigh into the kiss. Had it been so long?

Too lost in your thoughts to hear the jiggling of the doorknob, you are unaware someone has just entered the room, the feeble lock having easily given in. By the time Zeke notices, his hand has already been snatched away from under your shirt, his normally great senses having been slowed by his arousal.

“Do I have to cut your hands off again, beast?!”

You look on in shock as Zeke’s hand is forced to his back, and a knife is brought to his throat. You recognize the voice instantly, you have spent too many years around him not to. “Levi!”

“You think you can assault one of my soldiers?! You think you can lay your dirty hands on her?!” Though you can’t see his expression from behind Zeke, his voice lets you know he’s furious.

Zeke huffs but doesn’t move, an irritated look on his face at the interruption. “I think you have the wrong impression here. This wasn’t my idea.” His tone is smug, provoking Levi to dig the blade into the skin of Zeke’s neck.

“He’s right!” You say quickly, your hands quivering by your side. Though you would prefer to just disappear at the moment, you need to speak up before it gets even further out of hand. Out of all people, why him?!

The knife retreats from Zeke’s throat, leaving a single scarlet droplet in its wake. His lips quirk up slightly into a smile, smug at the short freeze he had noticed from the man behind him.

You want to avert your eyes when Levi steps out of Zeke’s shadow, but you don’t want to be disrespectful, not more than you already were by messing around with the enemy anyway.

“What did you say?” Levi asks, steel eyes commanding you to repeat yourself.

Your throat feels dry out of nowhere as your gaze locks onto his. “I said that he’s right. What you saw was my idea, captain.”

His usual stoic expression twists to one of hurt for just a brief moment, disappearing within seconds. He regained his composure so quickly that you question whether you actually saw it or were just imagining it.

Levi returns his knife to its sheath, eyes burning holes into your form. “We’re leaving.”

You blink in confusion, looking from Zeke to Levi and back. “What? I know what Yeager has done, but I wasn’t aware that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, seeing how things were going with-“

“It’s not about that!” Levi barks out, making you flinch. You had seen him angry like this only a handful of times, and only in situations far worse than this.

Zeke comes closer to you, facing Levi with a shrug of his shoulders. “Seems like y/n wants to stay with me.”

This whole situation is growing more awkward by the minute. Normally you would go with Levi without a second thought, but now you found someone that desires you you don’t want to give it up that easily. The thought of spending another 6 years of your limited life alone makes you stand your ground.

“You can have her,” Levi says, causing your heart to plummet to your stomach.

“When I’m six feet under the ground.”

You stare at Levi. His expression and voice have calmed down, but his anger seems to roll off of him in waves. Should you be happy? More than likely this has nothing to do with you, and all with the promise he made to Erwin.

You fiddle with your skirt uneasily. Gods, how could you be doing this? What a betrayal to all who have fought and died by your side these past few years.

Zeke glances over to you, taking in your nervous form before sighing. “I’m not sure if it will wreck your little soldier, but I don’t mind sharing.”

If you weren’t absolutely frozen in shock, your jaw would drop to the floor. Your turbulent thoughts are instantly blown away by Zeke’s words, a whole new moral conflict arising. Heat rises to your cheeks at his suggestion, the word choice of ‘wreck’ making your knees embarrassingly weak.

Levi grits his teeth. “I must have knocked some threads loose last time we fought for you to even suggest such a thing.”

His rejection doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. He didn’t want to sleep with you when it was just you and him, so now with Zeke here? No chance.

Zeke takes off his glasses, examining them in the light of the lantern before polishing them on his sleeve. He’s practically oozing disinterest, which you are guessing is the point. “I understand. You don’t want to do anything that will leave you embarrassed.” He says.

Levi stares him down, but Zeke continues casually polishing his glasses. “What are you implying?”

You look at Zeke, shaking your head slightly. Just drop it, this is madness.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what I’m implying.” He sighs when Levi doesn’t say anything.

“Just stop!”

Their gazes both snap to you after you yell. Your fists are balled, form trembling slightly from embarrassment and adrenaline. Sure, the prospect is exciting, but it will never happen, and at this point, you are starting to feel humiliated over the continuous rejections from Levi.

“I’m leaving.” You tell them and start walking towards the door, adjusting your messy shirt on the way. Levi tries to grab your arm when you pass, but you slap his hand away. “Alone.”

You already have the doorknob in your hand when the wood of the door shakes with impact. Wide-eyed, you look at the boot that’s keeping the door shut. The owner of it gazes at you with a conflicted look. “If you want to stay with him, stay.” He spat out the word ‘him’ like it was poison on his tongue.

Your gaze travels up his form and to his face, confusion written all over yours. What is this pushing and pulling? Stay, leave, which is it?

“Y/n, come.” You look back, seeing Zeke beckoning you with open arms, his glasses back on his face.

You chew on your lips, glancing between the two men once again. Levi drops his gaze, avoiding your questioning eyes. Ah yes, that’s how it is, isn’t it? The previous moments were exactly that, moments, and they had passed now he had come back to his senses.

Slowly, your hand slips from the doorknob, and as it does you can sense Levi tensing up next to you. Not daring to look at him in fear of conflicting your heart any further, you go back to Zeke. As you stare at your new lover with a stinging heart, you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn your head you find that Levi has propped an old chair under the doorknob, closing the storage room off more effectively. 

“You didn’t think I was going to leave her with you, did you?”

What? Your mind races as Zeke pulls you closer, hugging your back to his chest and his fingers finding your chin. Levi is... staying? You are given no time to process what this means as Zeke’s lips press against yours. He drags you into a wild kiss, forcing your mouth open by your chin so he can push his tongue past your lips. One of his legs pushes yours apart from behind, your skirt hiking up on his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, the person you admire the most watching you get devoured by another man.

Zeke pulls away from the kiss slightly, leaving his tongue sticking out so he can show off the string of saliva connecting it with yours. He glances at Levi from the side, keeping you panting in your position. “Let’s get to it then, if you hadn’t interrupted us I would’ve already been between her legs.” Heat creeps up your neck at his crude words.

“Bastard.” Levi curses under his breath, sharp eyes finding yours. You can’t place his look, there’s anger there for sure, but also something else.

After Zeke’s little display, you are expecting him to leave the room any second and have him never want to look you in the eye again, but instead of doing that, he starts undoing the straps of his uniform.

It’s impolite to stare, but how couldn’t you? In all these years you’d never seen him anymore bare than in his nightclothes, and here he was, getting ready to strip right in front of you. Taking advantage of your distracted mind, Zeke swiftly pulls up your shirt, exposing your bra to them and making goosebumps rise on your skin from the cold air. As Levi’s eyes trail over your chest, you regret your choice of bra. It has a very low-cut cup, barely covering your nipples.

Zeke’s one hand remains on your chin as the other snakes up to the exposed flesh of your breasts. You shiver when he traces a finger just above the edge of your bra. “You even wore something nice for me? I’m honored.” Zeke presses his lips to your ear but still says it loudly enough for Levi to hear. You really had. It’s not like you had a ton of fancy underwear laying around, 98% of it were practical ones that weren’t exactly eye candy.

You gasp when Zeke backs up for a second and swiftly pulls your shirt off completely, forcing your arms up. He easily catches your wrists together in one colossal hand, keeping your arms up to ensure you can’t cover yourself.

“What do you think, Levi, should I take off everything?” Zeke asks, amusement sounding in his voice.

Your wide eyes move to Levi, a frustrated expression showing on his face. You would’ve thought he wasn’t enjoying it if it wasn’t for the obvious imprint in his pants.

Zeke tuts at Levi’s lack of answer, freehand creeping down your stomach and to the fabric of your skirt. “You’re right, it’s better to take our time.”

He crunches the fabric up in his hand, slowly pulling it up more and more until your panties are revealed. His breath is hot on your ear, becoming noticeably faster when his fingers grace over the silk of your underwear. Your arms wiggle in his grip as his fingers tease over your heat, sliding past your clothed slit. The more pressure he puts against the material, the more your body heats up, and soon he can feel a damp spot through it.

You look at Levi through your lashes, lids low as you hang back against Zeke’s body and let him explore yours. The embarrassment has mostly faded and you allow yourself to stare at him to your heart’s content. You notice everything; the subtle twitches of his face, his widened pupils, the way he swallows heavily every time a tiny mewl escapes your mouth. All of it combined with Zeke’s touches is sending electricity through your body.

Zeke’s hand trails up slightly, leaving your damp panties to stick to your core. You turn your head to the side, giving him a pleading look to take them off. He tugs at your arms, making you stand straighter and causing your ass to bump against his crotch, letting you feel the noticeable bulge there. His hand dips underneath the elastic of your panties, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. The pads of his fingers cause shivers to run down your body as they glide over your mount before dipping between your legs. You open your legs slightly so he can reach you well, causing him to chuckle.

“Eager aren’t we?” He has a hungry glint in his eyes when they meet yours.

You lean into his touch when his fingers stroke over your slit, gathering your slick on them. He parts your folds gently with two of his fingers, his middle finger teasing over your entrance. Levi comes closer, lured in by the pants and whimpers falling from your lips. Heat rises to your cheeks as he stands in front of you, barely any distance between the two of you. He looks down at where Zeke’s hand is teasing your cunt, Zeke’s finger lightly pressing on your entrance before moving away once again.

Levi’s hands come up, cupping your soft breasts in them. You bite your lip as he rubs your hardened nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. His gaze shoots up as soon as a moan sounds from you, one corner of his lips quirking up. More moans slip past your lips as he rolls your nipples between two of his fingers, the thin fabric of your bra adding even more friction.

Zeke frowns behind you. All he got was a few whimpers until now, but Levi touches you and you are moaning like a whore. No, he can’t have that.

You cry out when two of Zeke’s fingers suddenly thrust into your tight heat, a wet squelch resonating throughout the room. You barely notice Levi’s hands freezing on your breasts as Zeke’s fingers curl inside of you, intently searching for the rough patch on your walls.

Levi grabs onto your chin, his other hand harshly fondling your breast. He isn’t pleased like when you moaned for him, far from it. His lips crash onto yours, catching your open mouth by surprise. The moans enticed by Zeke’s fingers are muffled by Levi’s tongue, both men groaning as you shake between their forms. This isn’t how you expected your first kiss with Levi, but you might just like it more, the desperation behind it intoxicating.

Zeke’s fingers finally find their target, and he notices instantly as your arms jerk in his grip, your cunt clenching around him. He pushes and strokes over the spot feverishly, and not even Levi’s mouth can muffle your moans anymore.

“You should feel how she’s sucking me in, Levi. I’ve never felt such an eager cunt.” Zeke taunts. Levi doesn’t answer, lips moving against yours so roughly that you feel like your lips will be bruised afterward.

You’re getting close, you can feel it as your whole body starts tensing, bucking into Zeke’s curling fingers. You aren’t sure if Levi means to add to it, but as his hand dips below the fabric of your bra, nail softly raking over your sensitive nipple, you feel yourself rushing towards the edge.

It only takes a few more strokes of Zeke’s fingers before you cum around them. Your legs buckle and tense as you orgasm, Zeke praising you and grinding his bulge against your ass. “That’s it, good girl.”

Levi causes you to yelp out in pain when he bites down on your bottom lip out of nowhere, breaking a tiny part of the skin. You stare at him in shock as he backs up, still shaking from cumming as you watch him wipe the trickle of blood away from his lip. Even Zeke wasn’t expecting that, his fingers leaving your heat quickly and forcing your face to the side. He examines the small cut on your lip even as you try to cringe away from him cupping your face with slick covered fingers.

“Don’t cum for that animal when your mouth is on mine.”

You look at Levi from the corner of your eye. He doesn’t seem angry or shocked with himself, instead, he seems pleased.

Zeke chuckles. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Levi.”

His grip tightens on your wiggling wrists as you try to get some space between the two of you. He tuts at you, making your eyes dart back to his. You can tell from his grin that the little sympathy he might have had just now has disappeared.

“Open your mouth.” He says. He can feel your jaw tense at his words. He loves how innocently wide-eyed you look at him while knowing full well that your cunt is throbbing at the idea of obeying him.

Slowly, you open your mouth, and Zeke’s fingers ease off of your jaw. When you have opened your mouth wide enough for his liking, he slides the two wet fingers past your lips, deliberately going past the cut. Your taste is mixed with a faint hint of blood, but you don’t stop to think about it as Zeke’s fingers press down on your tongue. While you are lapping at his fingers, he finally lets go of your wrists, letting your arms fall to your sides.

You hear Levi sighing close by. “Seems like you are all show and no action. Couldn’t have expected more from a circus monkey.”

Zeke’s eyes stay on yours, daring you to look away even as they talk. “It’s called foreplay.” He responds casually.

Seemingly satisfied with your suckling at his fingers, he slowly pulls them out of your mouth. Taking in your swollen lips, he can’t hold back the urge to make you look even more pathetic. He wipes his fingers off on your cheek, leaving your own spit on it. Is it embarrassing? Most definitely, but in a different way than normally. Something about their rough treatment makes your abdomen flutter in excitement.

Zeke suddenly pushes you towards Levi by your shoulders. “Entertain him while I get these tight fucking pants off.” Zeke grumbles and you can instantly hear him start fumbling with his belt.

Your nerves chitter as you look at Levi. His watchful gaze always makes you scared to make a wrong move. You want to be good to him, for such a long time already that the need to is practically overflowing.

Tired of your staring, Levi makes the first move, pulling your hand forward and against his crotch. Your eyes dart from the bulge you are cupping in your hand to his face. “I’ve waited long enough, take off my pants.” The slight tremor in his voice as he speaks and the pink color on his cheeks has your heart beating faster.

He lets go of your hand, allowing you to move it. You slide your flat palm along the imprint of his cock, making him part his lips in a pant. Making quick work of the button on his pants, you start sliding down the elastic of it, taking his underwear off with it. When his cock is exposed, he pushes your hands away, quickly taking his underwear and pants off completely. He glares at you as he takes off his shirt as well, hair getting tossed on the way. “Strip.” He tells you. The way he throws his clothes to the side is yet another surprise in this odd night.

You let your skirt fall to the floor first, then your wet panties, and lastly your bra. Shivers run up your body from both the cold and the nerves that course through your body as you are naked in front of Levi for the first time. He watches you for a moment, his length twitching excitedly against his stomach. You are watching him as well, but you aren’t sure where to look first. His chest is lean yet muscled, dipping down his in a delicious V just above his crotch. Not following where the V is going would be a shame, and so you eagerly eye his cock. It’s long, curved to the side just slightly with a girth that already ensures you that he will fill you up well.

Wetting your lips, you step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you back up. Reaching out, you wrap your hand around his length. It feels hot and heavy in your hand as you give it a testing pump. You hear Levi’s breath hitch when you look at him through your lashes, eyes lidded. As your hand pumps his cock slowly, he can’t help but tense at the memory of all the nights he spend imagining his hand was yours. Watching you jerk him off, your pretty face so close to his, makes him want to hold you, but also ruin you until you cry.

“Y/n.” He starts and you cock your head to the side slightly, showing that you are listening even though your eyes are trained on his cock again. “Turn around.”

Your eyes snap back to his, searching for what exactly he wants but finding only more questions at the intense lust he’s showing. Precum leaks from the head of Levi’s cock as you obediently turn around, still within reach just like he wanted. You swallow heavily as you are now faced with a fully naked Zeke, his hand eagerly pumping his cock. He gives you a lopsided grin as his thumb rubs over the head of his cock, making it twitch in response.

Levi’s fingers press down softly between your shoulder blades, instructing you to bend forward just slightly. It’s not necessary for what he’s planning, but after Zeke made it a point to show off, he intends to pay him back. You yelp when Levi kicks your legs open and one of his hands grabs onto your hair, roughly pulling at it. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, causing them to be even slicker by combining your already present wetness on them with his pre. Tiny mewls leave your lips as he slides his cock back and forth, the top dragging against your soaked heat. Your plush thighs feel amazing already, but just sliding against them is not what he intended. He grabs onto his cock with his free hand and pushes the tip between your folds. Your surprised look makes Zeke chuckle, cock still in his hand. Is Levi going to put it in? The question rushes through your head and you feel the tip of his cock catch onto your entrance.

“Not yet.” He groans, unsure whether he’s telling you or himself.

The head of his cock slips away from your entrance, his length now snuggly between your folds. Your wet cunt feels better than he could’ve imagined as it drags past his cock, everything about it beckoning him to take you already. Hand on your hair tightening painfully, he starts thrusting slightly as you squeeze your thighs to keep him near. Your heavy pants are interrupted by a moan every time his tip slips against your clit, sending pleasure through your body.

“Look at those pretty lips.” Zeke says, coming closer to your bend-over form.

His cock is glistening with his precum, the head of it flushed red. As he’s closer to you you can really take it in, and the size is startling. Gods, you already have Levi’s sliding against your cunt and now there’s another right in front of your face, this is insane.

Zeke observes the bliss that comes over your face with every thrust of Levi’s. “Your shortness comes in handy for once, like this she’s at the perfect height to suck my cock.” Zeke tells Levi, tapping his cock on your parted lips.

Levi shoots him a nasty look. How he can be so cocky is truly beyond Levi. It doesn’t matter though, it’s clear that you like him better, your body speaks volumes on that. His thoughts making him slide forward faster, his hips connecting with your ass in a loud slap. As you open your mouth to moan at Levi’s actions, Zeke makes little time of thrusting his cock into it. You cough and sputter as you choke on his length, being given no time before he greedily slides himself down your throat.

Tears form in your eyes as Zeke fucks your mouth roughly, your nose bumping against his trimmed pubes over and over again. Levi curses behind you, jealously stirring in his chest. He disgusts himself with how the sight of Zeke defiling you both angers and arouses him. You scream around Zeke’s cock when Levi harshly brings his hand down on your ass. He hits your soft flesh repeatedly, his cock twitching against your heat at every hit.

Zeke coos at you as your tear-filled eyes overspill, the stimulation from both sides becoming too much. His hand strokes over your cheek comfortingly, though he refuses to slow down his thrusts into your squeezing throat. You feel your ass sting from the continuous slaps Levi is landing on your ass, the pain mixing with the pleasure.

Levi stares down at the darkened skin of your ass, his handprints littered all over it. A smile twists onto his face, proud of his work and the way your cunt is drooling over his length in return. Meanwhile, you are still choking down Zeke’s length, the strangled sounds from your throat making it clear that you are struggling. Your sounds draw Levi’s gaze back to where Zeke is fucking your face just in time. Levi recognizes the look on Zeke’s face instantly, head lightly thrown back and eyes closed. Without a second thought, Levi uses the hand in your hair to pull you off of the other man’s cock. You gasp and sputter for air, just as surprised as Zeke as he curses. “What the fuck?!”

“I’m not letting you cum in her mouth, I’m still planning on coming near it.” Levi explains casually as he slides his cock out from between your thighs.

You are still hacking and coughing as the two men exchange dead glares. Will you survive this? You truly wonder as you regain your breath. It’s like being pulled apart between two forces, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second of it.

“Shit.” Zeke runs a hand down his face, stroking it over his beard. “We can’t take her like this.”

You look up suddenly at his words. Hold on a second, he can’t be tapping out now?!

Zeke gestures towards a sturdy crate off to the side. “Sit on that, Levi.”

Levi grimaces and you look between the two men, just relieved you aren’t being left like this.

Zeke sighs and waves towards the crate again. “Do it or I’ll shove my cock back down her throat, and this time I won’t stop till I’m done.”

You look at Levi, who despite looking slightly disgruntled, agrees and goes to sit on the crate. Zeke swiftly picks you up after, the muscles of his chest presses temptingly against your back. He only holds you for a second before he sits you down on Levi’s lap, having you straddle him.

You place your hands on Levi’s shoulders, a shy smile on your face. He can’t help but chuckle slightly at that, you are still unsure even as his cock is pressing against your cunt. Zeke comes to stand behind you, hands grabbing onto your sore ass. He makes you push it towards him before he spreads your cheeks, whistling at the sight of your dripping hole.

“Don’t know how you resisted all this time.” He comments towards Levi.

Levi’s eyes don’t leave yours, too enthralled by finally having you on him to have Zeke ruin the moment. “Hurry up already, shit beard.”

Zeke lets one of your cheeks go to grab onto his cock. “As you wish.”

Surprising both you and Levi, Zeke aligns himself and pushes into your cunt in one swift thrust. You cry out loudly, nails digging crescent shapes into Levi’s shoulders. Levi is caught off guard for a second as he watches your blissed-out face, and Zeke takes the opportunity to pull out and thrust in with force once again.

“Let’s see if you get the same sound out of her.” Zeke taunts, smacking your sore ass once before pulling out of you. It’s obvious to even your foggy self that he did it just to rile up Levi.

You are panting again, your body shaken by Zeke’s surprise. The walls of your cunt sting from the sudden stretch, but at the same time squeeze eagerly around nothing, waiting for more.

Levi cups your chin in his hand as the other goes to your hip. You watch his dull blue eyes shimmer as he shifts under you till his cock is poking at your dripping entrance. For a second, you wonder how different this would’ve been if he had accepted you sooner.

With a hard push to your hip, he thrusts you onto his length, forcing your spasming walls to accommodate him in one go. To Zeke’s disdain, you do cry out for the other man. Not just the sound either, you cry out his name excitedly.

Levi pulls you in by your chin for a quick, sloppy kiss. It feels so hot inside you, so tight, he’s losing his sense and that’s exactly why he was afraid to do this with you. After this, he won’t want to let you go, while the world may force him to do so. He can’t think about that now though, not while your lips are on his. In this moment you are here, and he will enjoy you fully.

With one of Zeke’s hands still firmly on your cheek, he pulls it to the side, allowing a clearer view of how your hole is stretched and stuffed around Levi’s cock. He feels his face flushing. Though he would’ve liked to enjoy your cunt for himself, this sharing has turned out pretty entertaining so far.

You gasp against Levi’s lips when Zeke presses the tip of his cock against your other entrance. Breaking the kiss, Levi keeps his hand on your chin, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip soothingly, careful to avoid the cut he made. “Take a deep breath.”

Your breath comes out in trembles as Zeke pushes past your tight entrance, his cock coated in your slick. You can feel every inch of him slowly sliding into your ass, causing you to whimper as you soon feel overwhelmingly full. The wall separating their cocks twitches as both their lengths slide against it.

“You took that so well.” Zeke says as his hand finds grip on your free hip. He brushes your hair away from your ear, leaning in closer till his warm breath washes over it. “Makes me wonder how many men you let fuck your little ass.”

You bite back a moan when Zeke bites the top of your ear softly and, unbeknownst to you, connects eyes with Levi. “What do you think, Levi? You are her supervisor after all.”

Levi’s jaw clenches and he drops his hand slightly from your chin. “Seems like I missed a lot.”

You swallow nervously at the angry look in his eyes, your holes involuntarily clenching around their cocks. Quick like always, Levi moves his hand to your neck in the blink of an eye. You quiver between their bodies as he squeezing down on the sides of your neck.

“Who else did you do it with?” He questions, his gaze not allowing you to avert yours.

You gasp as Zeke starts moving, dragging his cock out just a little before thrusting back in. He’s more than eager to add onto your punishment, your body still struggling against the intrusion.

Levi shoots a glare over your shoulder, but Zeke shrugs it off. “You feel how she’s squeezing down. Seems like your cadet likes it rough.”

You didn’t think your embarrassment could return in this situation, but it does. Your perverseness was already exposed, but now the full extent of it is coming out as they question it.

“Tell me who fucked you!” Levi snarls, his hand squeezing harder around your throat. The fact that it happened right under his nose makes his jealousy spark into a wildfire.

His cock twitches inside you at the way your mouth quirks up into a smile. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?

Switching tactics, he leans in closer, ghosting his lips over yours and sliding his cock halfway out of your heat. You fall right for the bait as you try to move in to kiss him, whining when he pulls away just before you reach his lips. “Tell me who.”

Levi can feel your throat moving under his hand as you start and stop speaking multiple times. Your eyes and mouth go wide when Zeke thrusts into you hard, making your ass sting all over again from the impact. 

“Tell him.”

You nod your head up and down desperately. “Alright!” You yelp out as Zeke continues his sharp thrusts.

“Jean! Jean! Just a few times.” You say quickly, your cheeks burning up from shame.

Levi stays quiet for a moment, and you would have been scared if his cock wasn’t buried inside of you. He pulls you closer by your throat, examining your face. “Did he fill you like this?”

You want to answer, but your mouth is left hanging agape as Levi suddenly slams his full length up into you. Choked sounds leave your lips as he forces your hips to stay up as he joins Zeke in a harsh pace.

Zeke’s hands come around your front, fondling your breasts and soon squeezing your nipples with his fingers. “You sure have yourself a good slut here.”

All you can do is moan and cry out a jumble of their names as they fuck into your tight holes. Gods, have you ever felt this good before?

“I’m jealous.” Zeke grunts out, rolling your nipples between his fingers before giving your breasts a forceful squeeze.

Levi grunts as he watches Zeke squeeze your breasts together, his eyes glued to the cleavage it created. The sight makes him want to stick his cock between them, but that will have to wait for another time.

“Levi! Zeke! Ah!-” You mewl, your slick dripping down Levi’s cock as you bathe in the pleasure of being pinned between them.

Zeke and Levi look at each other, and though they couldn’t be more different, the two men understand each other’s gazes perfectly at this moment. Stilling inside of you, Levi makes your hand clamber desperately down his shoulders and chest.

“Levi, please!” You whine, attempting to move your hips but being hindered by Zeke’s restless thrusts, his hands having left your breasts to hold your waist instead.

Just as Zeke’s cock slides out of your tight hole till the tip, Levi thrusts up into you, filling you completely. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure as they switched up the pace, one now pounding into you while the other pulls away.

You barely even realized that Levi’s hand was still on your neck until he removes it, making you sigh under the relief of the pressure. “I waited so long, assuming you would break under my touch. But look at you now.” He grunts out.

Zeke chuckles as he bends forward to run his tongue over the length of your neck, causing you to shiver. “That’s on you, Levi. I saw it right away.”

You can feel his voice vibrate against your skin, lips so close you can feel them slightly ghost past when he enunciates. “Though I have to admit, the extend of it surprised even me.”

Your hands run from Levi’s pecks to his firm abs while Zeke’s broad chest presses against your back. The slaps of their bodies hitting yours resonating beautifully throughout the room. How did you get so lucky to be sandwiched between these men?

You bite your sore bottom lip as you feel the coil in your abdomen start to tighten. They too can tell you are getting close, your hips clumsily moving in search of more friction.

One of Levi’s hands moves between your bodies, slender fingers quickly seeking out your swollen clit. Screams get caught in your sore throat as he rubs agonizingly slow circles over your clit, his fingertips never faltering in the precise movements.

“Shit.” Zeke curses out behind you, thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your body starting to quiver from your incoming orgasm.

Levi’s free hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips quirked up in a lopsided smirk. “You hear that? Shit beard over there is about to cum.”

Your chest heaves heavily with your moans as Levi’s fingers work your clit faster, causing your holes to clench around their dick tightly.

“Bet you’d like that huh? Have him fill your ass with his cum?” Levi asks mockingly, squeezing your cheeks tighter.

His cock can’t help but twitch inside of you at the sight of your pathetically blissed-out face.

“Mmhm! Yes!” Is all you can cry out, so close to your release.

Levi releases your face, his eyes seemingly growing more darkened with lust by the second. Without warning, he moves his hand away from your clit slightly only to bring it back down with a slap. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cum from the sudden sharp pleasure, your legs shaking at either side of his.

You barely register Zeke’s wild pumping into you or the way Levi groans out your name as your orgasm rips through your body. The stimulation of their touches only prolong your bliss, mewls, and whimpers leaving your mouth like a chant.

With a hard slap to your ass, Zeke brings your focus back on him. You are still cumming as he squeezes the soft flesh in his hand, thrusting into you one last time. He breaths out your name as he empties himself inside of you and the warm sensation of his release spreading through you feels sinfully good.

Zeke leaves his cock buried to the hilt inside of your ass till the last twitch, your tight hole objecting when he starts pulling out. You feel his cum leaking out and spreading over your cheeks when he has pulled out of you completely. His hands grip your ass tightly as he spreads it, groaning at the sight of your leaking hole. At every thrust of Levi’s, your tight entrance twitches and forces more of Zeke’s cum to leak out.

Levi’s fingers have returned to rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit while he fucks you, and the intense sensation after you have barely finished cumming has your eyes rolling back as you cry out his name in encouragement. “Ah-! Don’t stop,” your unfocused gaze finding his “More.”

“You want ‘more’?” Zeke repeats, mockingly mimicking your slurred tone.

He grips his still-hard cock in his hand, pumping it in his fist. “Do you want more of him, or of me?”

You can barely muster an answer as Levi bounces you on his cock, your body shaking with the need to orgasm again. “B-Both!” You choke out.

“Guess I have no choice.” Zeke chuckles as he positions the tip of his cock at your twitching hole. Even though this is the second time, you still pleasantly surprise him with the way you eagerly suck him in.

Levi can feel the way your cunt spasms around him when Zeke thrusts his length into you, your mouth once again opening in a wide O. He’s the one who made you cum, isn’t he? So why are you still so damn focused on that shit face?!

He calls your name, but your foggy mind doesn’t register it. You are too close again, and after cumming so hard already twice, you feel like this time you won’t be able to stop.

Slap

The side of your face stings slightly and Levi gives you a dark grin as your gaze connects with his, your eyes cleared from their earlier fog. “Don’t go drifting off on me now, brat.”

You nod your head, your arms wrapping around his neck. You are back to focus, but you hope he doesn’t think that will prevent you from cumming. The way that they fill you is just too good.

“You can’t blame her. Her slutty body is betraying her.” Zeke says as his mouth moves to your neck once again. You don’t think anything of it as his hot tongue glides over your skin, so used to their constant touches by now.

Levi’s fingers leave your clit, once again followed by a sharp slap. This time he doesn’t do it just once though, he repeats the slap three times before going back to rubbing the abused nub. The way your sounds and labored breaths hitch in your throat every time have him closing in on his end faster than he wants.

Zeke’s gentle lapping and sucking at your neck turns animalistic as he suddenly bites down at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you yelp as his teeth dig slightly into the sensitive skin. It only lasts for a few seconds before he sucks a giant hickey on top of the bite mark, placing a gentle kiss on the bruise afterward.

Shit, shit. Trembles rattle your body as you drench Levi’s cock with your slick, cumming from the added pleasure of Zeke’s bite. You let your forehead fall against Levi’s shoulder, mumbling slurred words and moans into his skin, your tiny muscle spasms alerting both men of your orgasm. 

Levi pushes Zeke’s head away from your neck. “What do you think you’re-” He stops his sentence, taking the other man in with narrowed eyes.

Zeke slows his thrusting, raising his shoulders in innocence. He’s about to say something, but Levi grabs Zeke’s attention by taking your face in his hand.

Their conversation has completely gone over your head, still tingling all over as the tip of Levi’s cock hits the sensitive spot on your wall repeatedly, dragging out your orgasm. The way they slowed down has you whine in displeasure as well as curl your toes at how it increases the intensity of each dragged-out thrust. The hand on your chin barely catches your attention, only truly noticing it when Levi’s voice pierces your thoughts.

“Open up and stick out your tongue.”

You do as he commands, your mind not even questioning it for a second. Levi chuckles at your display of obedience, you always were good at following orders. Zeke can make marks all he wants, but Levi knows who owns you on the inside.

Keeping a good grip on your chin whilst continuing to fuck into you, Levi observes your open mouth for a second before spitting in it. You mewl as he keeps your mouth open, watching his spit run down your tongue.

Zeke grabs you by your hair, forcing your face out of Levi’s grip and forcing it to the side. He groans at the mess Levi just made, your eyes growing watery as you moan with your mouth wide open. Zeke let’s go off your hair after noticing Levi’s glare. Shit, he could say so many things, but he’s close again, and he’d rather making a mess of your soft ass than argue with Levi.

“Swallow.” Levi orders when your face is turned back to him.

You close your mouth slowly, eyes staying on his as you swallow. A choked sound comes from his throat as he snaps his hips up into you, your hands flying up to grip the back of his hair.

“Fuck!” He curses. “Be a good girl and cum again, when you do I’ll fill you up.” He says, wanting to drag another handful of screams from your throat before he finally cums.

You nod your head, tears forming in your eyes from the intensity as both men desperately rut into you. Your holes spasm around them, your tired body ready to fulfill Levi’s wish any second.

Zeke’s forehead rests against the back of your head, his glasses fogging up from his panting. Every tremble of your perfect body pushes him closer to the edge.

“Z-Zeke.” He thinks he imagined it for a moment, but then your sweet voice calls out for him again. “Zeke!” One of your arms has left Levi so you can place your hand on the back of Zeke’s head.

You are pulling at both men’s hair now as your hips sway in a desperate attempt to ride their cocks.

“Levi!” You call out as well, the man busy clenching his jaw in an effort not to let too many moans out.

“Please! Please!” You beg, your fingers trembling as they grab at their locks. You scream out in pleasure, your orgasm interrupting your pleading. “I-” It’s so hard to talk, your throat feeling squeezes without any hand being near it. “I can’t take anymore! Please, cum!” You cry out, continuously interrupted by wild pants.

Both are happy to oblige, having had their fun in torturing you and now eager to give you your award. Zeke pulls out of your ass in one quick slide, pumping his slick cock in his fist. He’s the first to cum as he empties himself all over your ass and back, his cock jerking in his hand at the sight of your skin getting more and more soiled by him.

Levi presses a hard kiss to your lips before finally giving in to his release, making sure your beautiful eyes are on his as he lets go. You can feel every hot shot of his cum inside of you, your cunt clenching around him tightly. Zeke is just admiring his handy work from behind you as Levi fills you up for what must almost be a minute. Your hand in Levi’s hair twirls his soft locks between your fingers, your heart squeezing as your exhausted mind ponders he pend up he must have been himself.

You smile weakly as Levi kisses you again after he’s finished cumming. It feels appreciative, and he really does feel that way as he can’t remember the last time he felt so good.

Zeke takes in the way he painted your skin with his cum one more time before turning around to get his clothes, leaving you nestled on Levi’s lap. You let your head drop to Levi’s shoulder, not caring that his cock is still inside you as exhaustion nips at your body.

Levi strokes your hair gently, but his watchful gaze is glued to Zeke. It’s a good thing that Zeke is putting on his clothes because it’s clear from the look in the other man’s eyes that his presence is no longer welcome. Always the defying type, Zeke gives the side of your hip a quick tap before exiting the room.

“See you soon, y/n.”

After the door has shut after the blonde man, Levi immediately jumps to action. He moves you off of his cock, his cum streaming out onto your thighs and his lap.

“Shit.” He mumbles at the mess.

He kisses your forehead softly, making your lidded eyes look up at him. “You did well, but do this again and I will leave you like this for the other scouts to find.” He tells you strictly, hands coming up under your arms to lift you up.

You can only nod weakly, not able to find your voice anymore. Perhaps he’s a little mad at you, but you don’t regret it at all. Your lips twitch into a tired smile as you think, ‘yeah, I really did do well.’.

[starlightxsvt]

Home | k.mg

pairing ➳ businessman!mingyu x female!reader

genre ➳ strangers to lovers, romance, slice of life, angst, fluff, gets spicy at the end

word count ➳ 5.6k (apx)

warnings ➳ cursing, reader is really indecisive, heavy makeout, implications of sexual activity.

synopsis ➳ an attractive stranger visits your cabin for a week with whom you quickly bond, developing some strong feelings in the process; leaving you to wonder if he's worth leaving everything behind.

A/N: henlooo~ I finally posted! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I didn't really feel like writing for a while, hence the delay. I hope y'all enjoy this piece and please don't forget to leave some feedback! It really motivates me :)

A cool gust of wind blew by as you finished typing your last column, leaving a soothing feeling behind as you exhaled loudly. It was hard to finish this piece of writing for some reason, maybe because you lacked inspiration or maybe because your life had been monotonous for a while or simply, a mix of both. Closing your laptop you stretch your hands and legs, feeling somewhat productive. Humming a tune, you looked out the window to see a Lamborghini come to a halt at the entrance.

It piqued your interest because it's not often that people riding Lamborghini come in this cabin so genuinely you're interested in the visitor. You shifted in your chair, waiting for the man to come upstairs to the reception and sure enough a tall- really tall man dressed in a neatly pressed suit appears into your view, briskly walking towards the reception where Chan stood to greet him. You could not get a good look at his face as he moved around quickly, grabbing his small carry on and heading towards his cabin after the formalities.

You watched his tall frame walking away as you got up from your seat and moved towards Chan.

"Who is he?"

"Kim Mingyu," Chan explained, resting his arms on the reception table." A millionaire, owns a lot of companies. No wonder he looked familiar."

"Oh, really? How long is he staying?"

"He has booked for five days. Said he might extend his stay."

"I see."

"Why are you so curious though?" Chan raised a brow at you, tilting his head to a side.

"Nothing." You shrugged. "He just has different vibes than the other people that come here you know?"

Chan hummed in agreement.

-

There was never much visitors during the rainy season which was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because that meant the cabin was less hectic and curse because sometimes you are bound to get a bit too bored. You were helping yourself with a cup of tea to somewhat feel re-energised when your newest and the only guest for the week appeared from his cabin, padding through the corridor and stepping into the common kitchen area. You were taken aback for a moment before you composed yourself and smiled at your guest, "Good morning, Mr. Kim. May I help you with anything?"

"Mingyu, please," the tall male replied while scanning the kitchen area. "You're the owner right? What's the food arrangement here?"

"Well, our guests generally cook for themselves or order takeout. When there are many guests I sometimes do the cooking."

Nodding, he hummed before putting in a capsule in the cappuccino machine. You took a seat by the window, tea in your hand as you watched the male move around like he knew this place. Dressed in his pajamas and judging by the fluffy mess that his hair was you assumed he had a good night's sleep.

"I hope you had a pleasant night, Mr- Mingyu." You said to your guest who had whipped out a pan from the cupboard and was making omelette. "Yes, surprisingly so. Normally I have trouble falling asleep but I slept like a baby last night," he casually conversed as he prepared his breakfast.

You smiled, "Well, I'm glad to know that. If you need anything let my staffs or me know."

"Sure. Oh- I didn't get your name though." Mingyu turned to meet your eyes.

"___," you smiled.

"___, okay."

-

"This is gonna be a rainy week," Hoshi said from behind you as he stood holding a tub of fresh soil for the plants in the backyard of the cabin. You sat on your knees, eyeing the plants which needed their soil changed.

"Yeah? Well, good thing there isn't much guests now."

"I think there should be, I mean it's so pretty here during the rain too. People need to look at it themselves." Hoshi complained.

"Well, most people don't like going out in the rain. Pass me the soil, Hoshi. Let's get this finished before the shower starts."

Hoshi handed you the tub of soil as the sky above started growling, full of thick black clouds. It was gonna start raining soon.

Hoshi spoke, "Oh, Mr.Kim, Mingyu you know, asked me about the beach by the marketplace. Apparently he wants to visit so he asked me if I was free to show him around."

"And let me guess, you aren't?" You rolled your eyes.

Soonyoung pouted, "No! Well I would have given him a tour today if the weather wasn't so bad. And my friends are coming tomorrow, so I'll be busy then."

"Wait- you're friends are coming?" You turned, glaring at the boy who smiles sheepishly, "Oh! Um- I didn't tell you? Well they're only staying for a couple of days and it's not like they're staying for free."

"Well, make sure they clean after themselves okay? If I see them trashing all over the place like last time, I'm kicking you out with them." You gave him a pointed look.

"Okay okay," Hoshi rolled his eyes, puffing his cheeks. "Just- take the CEO out on a tour tomorrow for me okay? I haven't seen my friends in a long time."

"Alright, I will...if the weather is good which probably won't be." You sighed, gently removing the old soil.

Hoshi mused about Mingyu, "Bummer for him, he came in a wrong time. It's weird, no? We don't have such guests like him."

"Yeah," you hummed, focused on handling your roses.

-

Hoshi's friend, Seokmin and Seungkwan appeared early in the morning next day as you watched Hoshi vibrate from happiness when he hugged them. You smiled to yourself, laughing at at the antics of your staff as you saw him guide his friends into their cabin. The day was once again filled with dark clouds and raining which occurred every other hour. You and Chan cleaned up and completed some chores as the noon fell.

"Should I cook something up for them?" You wondered as Chan finished cleaning the common space of the first cabin.

"Nah, Seokmin hyung is cooking for them. He's a pretty good cook actually."

"Really? That's nice." You said pulling up a chair to sit down. "Are you gonna join them? Hoshi has been with his friends since they came."

"Yeah, probably. You should join us too."

"No, I think I'm gonna take a nap. I feel so tired."

"Alright."

You watched as Chan climbed down the stairs and stepped towards the second cabin where everyone else was. You were about to head to your room when the CEO, Mingyu appeared in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello."

"Hi."

"I haven't seen you since morning," you said watching as Mingyu poured himself a glass of water.

"Yeah, I woke up early today, went for a jog."

"Ah, I see."

"Couldn't go far though, the weather sucks you know." He said leaning against the kitchen top.

"Yeah. But I heard that it should get better from tomorrow. I could show you around if you want to. Hoshi, my staff, is going to busy for a while so I can guide you around."

"Really? That would be cool." Mingyu smiled. There was a small stretch of silence as you both listened to the rainfall before he spoke, "Have you had lunch?"

"Uh-no."

"Would you like to join me?" He asked "This is the longest time I've been alone and it feels a bit weird," he murmured more to himself than you.

"I mean- I don't mind," you shrugged. "Though I should be the one doing it."

"It's okay. People say I am a good cook," Mingyu smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see."

-

It was weird how comfortable you felt watching Mingyu being clumsy and bump into things as he prepared your meal. It felt like you've been doing this forever- like you've known him forever and you thought to yourself what was suddenly wrong with you. He made small talk as he cooked and it felt easy talking with him- almost impossible to believe that he was stranger. He was friendly and easy to get along with, definitely not a cold and grumpy businessman like you imagined him to be.

Mingyu grinned as he set down the food in front of you- chicken soup, rice and cheese omelette. His eyes twinkled excitedly as he watched you take a bite, waiting for you to say something.

"What are you? A part time chef or something?" You tried not to moan as you chewed because it was that good. Mingyu laughed- a sweet, shy laugh that had his canines showing and his eyes forming crescents. "Thank you. I learned from my mom. I like cooking for myself when I get the time which is not often," he smiled- almost sadly.

"Well, you can cook for me all you want as long as you're here because this is amazing!" You grinned at him, cheeks puffed with food.

Mingyu chuckled softly as he dug in and you both started eating. It felt nice, to talk to someone new and spend time with them, someone other than Chan or Hoshi. It was a nice change- a change you probably needed for a while.

"So...What brings you here?" You asked as you finished your food, setting down the spoon and leaning back into the chair. Mingyu who was still eating, looked at you with a perplexed expression so you spoke, "I mean...we don't generally have guests like you. And it's not even a good time to visit...so I was wondering what brought you here?"

"Guests like me? What does that mean?"

"I mean...rich, okay?" You fumbled, feeling awkward. Maybe you shouldn't have asked. "Like...there are fancier places to visit, you know..."

Mingyu smiled at your words for a moment before he deadpanned, "I'm running away."

"Running away?" You gasped, almost jumping from your seat, "From who? The cops?"

"It would have been better but no, my family," he said, his voice as serious as ever.

"Oh...I see," you fell quiet. It definitely wasn't the answer you expected. You both remained silent for a while as he started out the window, lost in thoughts. "It must have been really bad if you're hiding out here." You spoke softly.

"It has always been," he mumbled. "I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I desperately needed a break," he spoke more to himself than you. Instead of prodding further, you sat quietly, watching him and listening to his words. Seeing him now, he definitely looks troubled and you didn't exactly have the words to console him.

So you whispered, "Well, I hope it gets better."

-

Later that night, you find Hoshi and his friends and Chan preparing for a bonfire in the front yard of the cabin.

"Wow, you all are really having fun, no?" You said as you fisted your hands in your pockets from the chilly weather. The air was colder than other nights and everyone including you had put on some warm clothes.

"You wanna join us?" Seokmin asked as he stacked logs on top of each other.

"Nah, it's fine. You four carry on," you patted his back as you started walking back towards the cabin and saw Chan and Hoshi coming out with some boxes in their hands.

"Hey! There are marshmallows in the kitchen cabinet if you want.... nevermind," you finished as you saw beer cans and soju bottles in their hands.

"We're gonna get drunk baby!" Soonyoung yelled, grinning like a fool.

"Hyung, you look drunk already," Chan gave him a side look as they trudged towards the bonfire.

Laughing at their antics you climbed the stairs to the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for yourself. Holding the mug on one hand you knocked on the door to Mingyu's room, checking up on him since you haven't seen him since lunch.

The door opened revealing Mingyu in a baggy shirt and pajamas, his hair fluffy and messy.

"Hey," you chriped. "Wanted to check up on you. You wanna join the others in the bonfire?"

"Nah, I'm good. I've been watching them from the balcony." He smiled, his pointy canines showing.

"Oh, I see."

"You wanna come in? I've been getting lonely." He offered, moving away from the door to make space for you.

"Uh- I don't mind," you murmured, surprised that he asked you to come in. You tentatively stepped in and it was fair to say that you were surprised to see the room neat and pristine as most guests kept their room messy.

He ushered you into the balcony, which had a great view of your yard and the forest behind. You saw others laughing loudly as Soonyoung acted something out. Mingyu's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"You didn't join them?"

"Nah, they can get too loud sometimes," you chuckled, taking a seat on the bench. You eyed an empty mug lying by, guessing that Mingyu already had his fill of hot chocolate.

Mingyu took a seat beside you, stretching his legs and sighing as he mused, "The view is great."

You hummed your agreement. It was indeed. Not only did you have the full view of your yard and the forest, but you could see a vast horizon of the night sky, some stars twinkling through the clouds.

"It's even more beautiful during summer. You can see so many stars that it feels unreal." You told him.

"Then I will try to visit again during summer," he smiled and you were not sure if he was serious or joking. However you replied with a smile, "You're always welcome."

A silence falls among you two after that but it's not uncomfortable, as you both watched the night grow and Soonyoung and his friends got louder.

"Things got really hard for me, you know," Mingyu started speaking, his voice soft as he stared at the mesh of trees ahead. You were somewhat surprised at his words, but you didn't interrupt, opting for him to continue.

"Running a million dollar company was never easy but...it suddenly was unbearable. My parents always interfered in my work and how I run the company but I managed through all of that, really...until..." Mingyu heaved a long sigh, abruptly stopping.

"Until?" You tentatively asked, peeking at him.

"They want me to get married. With the daughter of their business partner. A marriage of convenience, really."

Oh.

You fell silent, watching him as the moonlight dimly lit the side of his face. There wasn't enough light to see his face completely, but enough to see the curve of his face, his sharp jawline and the sad, lost look in his eyes. Your heart suddenly ached for him. Silently you patted his shoulder, conjuring up some words to console him.

"That's ...awful, really. I'm sorry."

"I've never been so mad in my whole life. Can't they just leave me alone? They treat me like a puppet, like my only job is to live for them. I'm so done. " He said, his hands forming fists.

There's a beat of silence as you quietly patted his back and watched your friends get wasted by the bonfire before he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry for dumping all these on you. I just couldn't hold them in you know-"

"It's really fine, Mingyu. I don't mind. It would be nice if I could actually help you," you sighed, retracting your hand.

"Trust me, you are," he said and you caught a smile on his face.

"I suppose you don't have a significant other? Someone you could talk to freely?"

He shook his head. "That is why I came here. Needed to get my thoughts together, away from them. Not to mention I don't remember the last time I went on a vacation."

"And have you got your thoughts together?"

"I think so, yeah." He shrugged.

"What are you gonna do?" You asked tilting your head.

"Stand strong in my ground, I guess. There's no way I'm marrying their business partner, I'd rather die. And if all else fails, I'm staying here. I'm sure you have some type of job for me, right?"

You laughed at his words, "Maybe. But I'm not sure about your skills, Mr. Kim."

"Oh I'm a fast learner, Miss ___."

You both grinned at each other.

That night when you went back to your room, your thoughts were plagued by Mingyu and you could swear you saw him in your dreams too.

-

The next morning is brighter and shinier; the sky relatively clear other than some light clouds. After getting dressed and checking up on Hoshi and Chan who were still sleeping, you trudged through the cabin and towards Mingyu's room, before knocking on it. A fully dressed Mingyu appeared, clad in a white polo and jeans, his hair styled messily. He looked effortlessly attractive, making your heart skipp a few beats.

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

"Hi," you almost missed a breath, your face flushed with warmth.

"Oh, hey. I was about to come to you. I believe you were to show me around." Mingyu grinned, his pointy canines showing.

"And that is what I'm here for, Mr. Kim."

"Great! Let's get going. We'll take my car."

-

After showing Mingyu around for a couple of hours, you both ended up at the beach by the marketplace, sitting on the sand next to each other. The weather was nice; not too hot, not too cold as a light breeze flew by occasionally. Though you could see some black clouds gathering above, it wasn't to rain until evening if the forecast was correct.

"This place is so pretty," Mingyu mused, making you smile.

"I know right. The weather is great too."

You both watched the waves crash to the shore, occasionally wetting your feet as you both relaxed on the sand. There was a silence, a comfortable one as you finished eating the corndog you bought from the market earlier with some groceries. As you finished the last bite, Mingyu turned to face you and asked, "Tell me about yourself."

"What?" A squeak of surprise escaped from you.

"I shared a lot about myself last night. It's only fair I get to know about you too."

"Well..." You pondered. "There isn't much to tell. I've a pretty dull life, unlike you."

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head, "Does the cabin belong to your parents? Is it like a family business type of thing?"

"No, not really," you smiled softly. "My parents are dead. The cabin belonged to my grandfather."

"Oh- I'm sorry."

"No it's okay. They passed away in an accident when I was a kid so I don't remember them much." You spoke, watching the sea, "My grandparents raised me. Growing up I've spent a lot of time in the cabin and when my grandfather retired he handed the job to me."

"Are they alive? Your grandparents?" He asked tentatively.

You shook your head, "Grandpa passed away a couple years ago and it's been a few months since grandma did too."

"I'm sorry, you must've been lonely," Mingyu offered, his voice soft.

You shrugged, "Yeah, like I said, nothing interesting going on in my life."

Mingyu hummed noncommittally and there was a few moments of silence before he spoke again, "Was managing the cabin something you have always wanted to do?"

You were quiet for a while as you thought over the question, "No...not really. I've just kept doing the job I was handed to. I haven't really thought about what I want to do."

"Well...I think you should hire a manager in your place and maybe...I don't come to the city and make friends, see what calls for you."

"Yeah, I've thought about it. But I don't know really." You murmured.

"Well, give it some thought. I could help you find a manager. In fact, I could help promote and upgrade your cabin if you'd let me. It'll be a good investment."

You laughed softly, not taking his words too seriously. He was just a guest. He was probably just being nice.

A gust of strong wind flew by, ruining your hair as it poked into your eyes and you laughed when your eyes landed on Mingyu.

"What?"

His hair was sticking in different directions because of the wind and you shook your head with a smile as you reached to pat the hairs back into place. It happened naturally, before you could stop yourself. For a moment your eyes meet as you quickly retract your hand, face heated.

Something was definitely wrong with you.

Mingyu's gaze stayed at you for a while; you could feel his intense eyes on you and you thought maybe he didn't like you touching him. Before your thoughts ran more rampant, he spoke.

"___?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you...Do you have a home?"

"Home?" You were confused.

"Yes, home. Not like a real house but like a... person. Someone who makes you feel at ease, someone with whom you can be yourself without judgements, someone who keeps you cozy and safe and loved...like a home."

Somewhat taken aback by his words, you fell silent but their depth hit you and you found yourself thinking about it. Do you have a home?

No. No, you don't.

You shook your head, murmuring, "No."

Mingyu nodded taking his eyes off you.

"What about you?" You asked.

"Me neither."

You smiled, "Figures. Because if you had someone you wouldn't have run here but went to them."

Mingyu smiled, a sad smile gracing his lips. It was a somewhat bitter truth, he hadn't found his home no matter how much he looked for it. Maybe that's what he was doing wrong, looking desperately.

"Let's get going. It has started to rain," Your voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he felt small drops of water fall on his face. You reached your hand out to him and he took it, standing up. As you both jogged towards Mingyu's car, your hands remained connected, no one bothering to let go.

-

That night you had dinner with Mingyu again but this time it was you who did the cooking. After enjoying dinner over small talk, Mingyu like the gentleman he is did the dishes as you poured some wine for the two of you.

Sitting on the small table in common space by the window, you both watched the clear sky that had appeared after the shower. You sipped your wine, watching the vast expanse of stars that blinked in the dark sky.

"I think I've to go back tomorrow," Mingyu suddenly whispered, his tone so low you almost thought you misheard him. A bolt out the blue, you looked at him.

"Tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm," he fiddled with the hem of his cardigan as he stared at the table. "I've got so many calls and messages from work. My company won't run on its on, I can be gone for only so long." He sighed.

You didn't offer any words, too shocked to know that he'd be gone tomorrow. What is this attachment you've developed towards him? Why did the thought of someone, almost a stranger going back to where he came from, where he belonged hurt you so much? You didn't know what to label your feelings but realizing that you'd probably never see him again was tugging at your heartstrings.

Should you ask him for his number and stay connected with him? Is there even a point in that? You both live miles away from each other. Or should just take his advice and follow him to the city? Would that even be a good idea? Are you just reading all this wrong?

You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn't realize Mingyu was calling you until he shook your shoulder.

"You okay, ___?"

"Huh? Yeah...it's just, the news is really sudden. I didn't... expect you'd return so soon." You mumbled.

Mingyu sighed, his shoulder dropping a little bit. "Trust me, if I could I'd stay here forever. But...I can't keep running. I need to face my parents, the sooner the better."

At a loss of what to say, you just nodded. Reaching for your drink you took a big gulp, trying to calm your nerves. It's okay, you can do this. He's just another one of your guests.

You stood up, taking the empty glass in your hand, "Well, I better leave you alone now. I'm sure you've got packing to do."

You almost turned away; until a strong hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back, making you stumble towards Mingyu's body.

"Don't. Stay for a while. I don't want you to leave." His voice was soft yet deep and it immediately broke your resolve as you set the glass down and looked into his eyes.

He didn't let go of your wrist; instead only wrapped his other hand around your waist, pulling you closer, leaving just a few inches between your faces. You didn't tell him to move neither did you make any effort to get away from him- you didn't want to. It felt good, comforting as he held you and looked at you almost like you were his whole world. His eyes had so much emotion swirling in them and you were sure yours looked the same too.

"___?" His voice was breathy and it set your heart aflame.

"Y-yes?"

"Can I...kiss you?"

You inhaled sharply as his hold on you got tighter. You couldn't process a reply, overwhelmed with emotion. So you just nodded and Mingyu leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

It was soft at first, his lips just resting against yours, as if he was testing the waters. When you didn't resist but only pulled him closer, he started devouring you, his tongue prodding in your wet cavern. Moans espaced from you as you kept pulling at his hair almost grinding on him, desperate for more. He was the same, kissing you with so much passion and vigour like you were the last female standing.

You somehow managed to tug off his cardigan between the kiss and when you pulled apart for air, Mingyu panted, "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

His deep raspy voice spread liquid heat throughout your body and you had to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

"Yes please," you breathed. Mingyu stood up straight, his tall and built body intimidating you in the best ways possible, "Oh baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you anything you want."

Once again your breath was trapped as he picked you up, his hand under your ass to support you. When he dropped you on his bed and took off his tee you realized you were in for a long night. In the back of your mind, you also realized that this would make it even harder to let him go.

-

Next morning you were the first one to wake up as the sun barely seeped through the blinds. If you had to guess it wasn't any more than six am. Mingyu's hand rested on your waist as he remained snuggled against your back. It was so comforting that you almost forgot your reality and went back to sleep, until you remembered what had happened last night. Before you could start overthinking and possibly had a breakdown right there, you ever so carefully removed his hand from your body and scrawled out of the bed, grabbing your shirt and quickly throwing it on. Then you tiptoped out of his room despite the ache between your legs and rushed straight towards yours.

Slamming the door shut, your sat down, head in your hands. You've to now prepare for saying goodbye. Right, you just need to act casual and not let him know that you might have developed feelings for him in the past week.

His words came back to you.

"Do you have a home?"

You didn't have one until now but the realization that you may have found it brought tears to your eyes.

-

You spent the next hours wallowing in your self pity, curled up in your bed too afraid to get out and face Mingyu. Soonyoung dropped by once, knocking at your door and asking if you want breakfast, which you declined. Time slowly ticked away and you watched as the clock struck eleven. You couldn't stay inside forever. You needed to bid Mingyu a goodbye- that is if he hadn't left already. But you were sure he didn't; he wouldn't just leave without any words.

Sighing, you gathered every last bit of your courage and stepped out of your room. Immediately you saw Mingyu coming out from the opposite end of the corridor, the carry-on he brought with him in his hand.

"Hey, where have you been?" He asked, his steps getting quicker to come and stand in front of you.

"Oh- um, I took and shower and then dozed off, sorry," you lied easily, not meeting his eyes.

There was a beat of silence as you both stood in front of each other and when your eyes finally met his, a blush spread across his face like wildfire. The air was heavy with unsaid words and you coughed, trying to get rid of the terrible awkwardness.

"So, you're leaving now?"

What a nice question.

Mingyu seemed to be lost in thoughts as he snapped back to reality and scratched the back of his head, "Oh yeah, right. It'll be a couple hours drive so the earlier I leave the better."

Nodding you motioned your hand towards the exit, "I'll see you out."

Mingyu seemed to have something to say but he pressed his lips in a thin line and started to climb down the stairs, you behind him. Soonyoung, who was standing at the entrance gave you a conspirational wiggle of his brows but said nothing as he watched you follow Mingyu out.

You observed as Mingyu loaded his bag in the trunk, peeking glances at you every other second. When he finished, you spoke, "Well...good luck. I hope you can overcome your problems."

"Thanks. It won't be easy and my dad will probably take away my shares of the company but...I'm done living like this."

You nodded, smiling softly as you crossed your arms against your chest. It suddenly felt cold.

You both gazed at each other, saying nothing even though you've so much to say, as if the silence would carry your unsaid words to him. You were torn- wanting to talk about last night but chickening out knowing it was probably just a fling, a one night stand for him.

"___..." Mingyu spoke but the words died on his tongue. Not trusting yourself to speak, you swallwed the ball of emotions and looked at him with a curious tilt of head.

"...I hope you find what you really want to do. And I hope you find your home too," he said, his words so soft and gentle. For some reason you had a feeling that those were not the words he wanted to say yet you forced a smile and nodded, "You too, Mingyu."

His eyes swirled with so my emotions but you didn't know what he was thinking. He looked pained, just like you but you were too afraid to speak your feelings, scared that you misread him.

When you spoke no more, Mingyu sighed and backstopped slowly, "Well... goodbye, then."

You managed to choke out the words, "Goodbye."

Your emotions overwhelmed you, tears stinging your eyes as you watched him enter his car. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest?

His engine roared to life and your stomach sunk. Was this really the right thing to do? Should you just let him go like this?

You made a split second decision that moment, just as his car moved forward a little.

"Mingyu!" You called after him, immediately making him stop the car. He came out, almost in a hurry, an expectant look on his face as you ran towards him. Then you made another split second decision as you wrapped your arms around his tall frame and held tight.

"I like you, Mingyu. I really like you." You mumbled in his chest.

He didn't say anything back but you felt his arms wrapping around you tightly and you stood there in each others embrace for a while. It felt like time has stopped, the warmth and safety of his arms comforting you and making you realize how you would have regretted if you had let him go.

Mingyu pulled back to take a look at your face, his hand cupping your cheeks, his warm but intense eyes on you, shining with love and adoration.

"Say something," you whispered, still unsure.

He chuckled, a light-hearted, carefree sound that made your heart swoon. "I like you too, if it wasn't obvious after last night."

Elated, you pulled his face down and kissed his lips as you felt him grin and wrap his arms around you once again.

"I want to go with you...to the city," you murmured into his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You couldn't see it but you felt him smirk, "Good. Because I think I found my home."

Your heart couldn't become fuller as you grinned like a happy child.

"Me too."

A/N 2: If you enjoyed reading don't forget to like and reblog and let me know your thoughts!

© startlightxsvt 2021 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

[cursestothemoon]

hellooooo<3 so, ive always loved the idea of Harry having an older protective sister(he really need one😭) could u pls do a headcanon of how she protects harry and their relationship? annnnddd how she also is dating Fred?? my heart needs it, pls and thank u❤️

i LOVE THIS 

(also i switch from third person pov to second person in the middle of this so im sorry :) but its fine ) 

ok 

i know a common headcanon/ fancanon for harry’s sister is that she looks like lily 

but hear me out 

Y/n Potter who looks exactly like James 

i mean to the T

and Lily would always make little teasing comments about how both her kids look like their dad and james is just :)

anyway

just picture it 

dark brown, wavy hair that was just tussled enough at all times

blue eyes

and the round rimmed glasses that James used to wear

stOP SHE WEARS HER DADS GLASSES BECAUSE WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE SHE’D PULL THEM OFF OF HIM AND AFTER HE DID SHE KEPT THEM AND WHEN SHE MISSES HIM SHE WEARS THEM AND THEY ARE SLIGHTLY TOO BIG AND SIT CROOKED ON HER FACE 

i made myself cry

anyway

lets talk protecting harry first then we will get into dating fred 

so she’s older meaning she’d be in Hogwarts for before him

let’s say she's two years older

George and Fred’s year

and she’d hear the whispers about her 

obviously

and i think she wouldn't tell harry

she would know the story of how their parents died and who harry was to the wizarding community but in an effort to protect Harry’s innocence and childhood for just a little while longer she wouldn’t tell him

at least not until he got to school then she’d be the one to tell him everything 

she is fiercely protective of Harry 

if someone so much as looked at him funny she was chewing their head off 

Harry might’ve been like James 

but Y/n Potter is James 

down to the way her eyes would narrow at someone in class when they made a rude comment 

or she’d try to charm her way out of trouble 

or charm Harry out of trouble

oH MY GOD SHE’D BE IN MCGONAGALL’S CLASS AND ONE OF HER FRIENDS WOULD SAY SOMETHING FUNNY AND SHE’D BE TRYING SO HARD TO HOLD IN HER LAUGH AND SHE’D MAKE THE SAME FACE JAMES WOULD MAKE WHEN TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

Mcgonagall almost cried 

she needed a moment 

ok Y/n would take the first week or so just to show Harry around Hogwarts 

she did not care if she was late

Harry was going to feel comfortable 

oH SHE NEARLY BEAT OLIVER WOOD WITH A BEATER’S BAT WHEN SHE FOUND OUT HE PUT HER TEENY LITTLE BROTHER ON THE QUIDDITCH TEAM AS A SEEKER

she is also part of the team, a chaser

will get spend most of the first few games with Harry making sure he’s ok

yeah malfoy doesn’t stand a chance

never did

10/10 would use the cloak to prank him

all the time

nothing is out of limits 

especially after he’s been nasty to Harry and his friends

growing up harry gets all embarrassed when she protects him because hes 15!1!1! he can handle it 

she is kinda hurt 

very dramatic 

“mY WITTLE BROTHER DOESN’T NEED ME”

“y/n... please”

“nO ITS OK HARRY I GET IT, ILL GO”

“where are you going?”

“YOU DON’T NEED ME ANYMORE, I AM NO LONGER NEEDED HERE”

“you don't HAVE TO LEAVE, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS”

Ron was giggling on the couch in the common room he thought this whole scene was hilarious 

ron thinks she is so cool

ok i think she’d also have these little bits of lily that would shine through

unlike harry and james, who could just inhale near a book and get just above average grades

she took pride in studying and being able to sit down and absorb material 

Lily always passed with flying colors because she was a good student who wanted to prove herself 

it was the satisfaction of spending hours studying and being able to retain the information and apply it to earn an amazing grade that she loved

she passed this on to you

as well as her kindness to people who she believed deserved it

and quick wit

you two also had the same hands 

you had everything else from James but your hands looked like your mothers

down to the way your nails grew and fingers held a quill

snape hated it

because he really couldn’t hate you

he was weird around you though

hes just weird

where he'd bully and embarrass Harry 

he couldn’t do that to you because you wouldn’t give him the chance to

you knew the material

you knew the answer 

and he hated how when your hand shot up it looked just like Lily’s 

but you were making the stupid face James would when he’d concentrate 

you did not like snape

at first you were impartial 

then when you heard how rude he was to Harry...

it was also over for him

he didn’t stand a chance 

you had an affinity for pranks, fiercely protective, and you had gall 

your hand writing also looked like Lilys and snape had a rough time grading your essays

tough for him 

:)

also if any rumors went around about harry you were quick to make them actually about you

harry is the heir of slytherin?

actually no Y/n Potter is, there is no evidence but we just heard that it was her somewhere 

you didn’t care as long as no one was being rude to Harry

leTS TALK DEATHLY HALLOWS

so you don’t go with them on the hunt for Horcrux 

and you’d be going insane not knowing how they were or if they were ok

because all your life you had been able to protect to some extent 

but you were completely helpless now

you could do nothing

and then at the battle of hogwarts 

pLEASE

no one stood a chance

the feeling of seeing harry again

beaten, bruised, but still alive 

it was overwhelming

then seeing Hagrid crying in his seemingly dead body

also overwhelming

because you had failed 

you couldn't protect him 

and he heard you scream first 

it was loud and strangled and Harry felt so bad but he knew he had to do this 

I like to think Y/n Potter is the one who killed Voldemort in the end 

you cant argue with me on this sorry

ok

now

lets talk

dating freddie

so he’d probably notice you here and there starting in first year

but he was an eleven year old boy and girls were not on his radar right now

but he thought you were funny and pretty cool 

and your round glasses that were just a little too big for your adolescent face made you look cute 

then you tried out for the quidditch team with him and George 

you were amazing 

not only did you have James natural talent for the sport but that paired with Lily’s tactical thinking and quick mind

you were unstoppable 

you were brought on the team as a seeker 

and you were good at it too, but it wasn’t you’re favorite position

it entailed a lot of waiting and not really moving until you caught sight of the snitch

it was your excellent flying mixed with the fact that you literally had no sense of self preservation that made you a really good seeker

you'd just

nose dive 

if you hit the bottom you hit the bottom oh well 

but when Harry showed up you were happy to give him your position as seeker and take on the more exciting (at least to you) job of chaser

it was your quidditch playing that really got fred’s attention

because you were good 

and during team lunches or team hang outs you were always the life of the party

not because you were avidly trying to be 

but like james, people jus gravitated to your goofiness and happiness 

it was about the middle of fifth year fred realized he had a crush on you

and little man was panicked 

you had noticed fred before that

obviously 

but he was always just the funny guy on the team 

but as everyone knows the potter’s have a thing for gingers 

and it was when they came to pick you and Harry up from the Dursley's just before the quidditch world cup that you saw how attractive he really was 

please its james and lily all over again

kinda 

you become the funniest person in the room when he’s around

always smiley

lilypad?

no.

freddie bug

aH STOP PLEASE THAT’S SO CUTE

YOU’D JUST STARE AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE 

it would get to the point you'd be just blatantly flirting 

and fred bluSHES

BECAUSE HE ISN’T USED TO BEING THE ONE ON THE RECEIVING END OF SUCH CLEAR FLIRTING

usually he is the one to pick up girls

he has the charm

likes to make them blush

but yOU CAN JUST LOOK AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE AND HES BE ALL GIDDY 

he could barely get a compliment in between your flirting

“Morning Freddie bug, looking cute as always.”

George thinks it both hilarious and disgusting

ron just thinks its disgusting 

but fred is ultimately the one to make the first move to be more than just friends who flirt when the yule ball comes around

he asks you

“Potter! Potter!”

“yes?”

“You, me, Yule ball....”

and as he’s pantomiming it (ya know like in the movie) he also pantomimes a very heavy make out session then what you could assume would be kisses all over your face

it was now your turn to blush as you agreed to go with him

you guys started dating after that :)

pLEASE ONCE HARRY GOT WITH GINNY AND HE SAW A PICTURE OF YOUR PARENTS 

YOUR MOM BEING A RED HEAD AND YOU AND HARRY LOOKING JUST LIKE YOUR DAD

HE WOULD NOT STOP THE JOKES

“i see why you’re with me. it’s my hair isnt it?”

“what? no its no-”

“you probably wouldn’t even look my way if i didn’t have red hair. you potters are unbelievable.”

“you are such a dummy”

“oH AM I? BUT YOU KEEP ME AROUND BECAUSE OF THE HAIR. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN IT WASN’T MY SPARKLING PERSONALITY THAT YOU LOVE.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa

@siriusement

[skzsauce01]

For You

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You and Minho are a little more than just an heiress and her bodyguard, but you know your parents would never approve of a relationship like this unless...

Warning: anxiety, injury

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x bodyguard!Minho

He is buttoning up his shirt after a warm shower when his phone buzzes. He smirks at your caller ID on the screen before picking it up. “What, miss me alr—”

“Hi. Sorry to bother you.”

Minho drops his smile and grips his phone tighter at the tone of your voice. Panic bubbles in his chest. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s not like that. I’m just… out right now, and it got dark a little quicker than I thought. I know you’re off the clock on Sundays, but—”

“It’s okay. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”

“I’m near the 7-11 near your house. The one with the blue umbrellas in front.”

“Okay. Go inside for now. I’m coming.”

“Alright. Thank you, Minho. And sorry.”

“Don’t be; it’s my job. Call again if something happens before I get there.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

Minho doesn’t even bother drying his hair and dashes out the door. He runs and runs, unease crawling up his skin, but when he sees you through the window of the convenience store, his stomach completely drops. There you stand with your shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, and knees bowed in, a stark contrast to the proud heiress he is used to seeing. 

The worker who is leaning over the counter seems to be saying something as Minho bursts in. “If you aren’t buyin’, pay for your loitering with cha number, sugar.”

Minho slaps a bill on the counter and takes a bag of chocolates. “There. She’s a customer,” he hisses. Turning to you who looks shocked by his sudden appearance, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod dumbly. 

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the door, using himself to shield you from the eyes of the worker.

He thought you’d relax a little after getting away from the creep, but your posture remains closed off. He wants to ask why but does not know if you’re ready for that yet. Instead, you break the silence first.

“Thank you for coming, and sorry for ruining your Sunday.”

“Y/N, you know I’m always ready to be by your side.” 

He looks for clues. You have on a deep blue dress, minimal jewelry, and light makeup. In other words, effortlessly enchanting, but that’s not important; you went to something fancy but not overly formal. A first date? Minho’s heart starts racing at the thought. He needs to know. “What were you doing out here by yourself?”

You bite your lip. Instead of answering, you tug on the cuff of his shirt gingerly with the tips of your fingers. “I-is it alright if I don’t talk about it?”

His chest breaks at how fragile your voice is. He stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“I-is it not?” you squeak.

“Of course it is.”

“Then why are you—”

“You look like you need this.”

He steps up to you under the streetlight and wraps you into a hug, gently stroking your back.

“Minho!” you gasp. “What if someone sees?”

You’re an heiress. Your choices of men are Chan from JY Group, Changbin from Seo Enterprise, or even Jisung from Han Motors. Lee Minho the bodyguard is definitely not on that list even if your heart is taking flight from this small gesture of endearment.

“Why does that matter?” he hushes you.

“If Father finds out, you’d lose your job.”

“I’d rather that than not be able to be here for you when you need it,” he says plainly and holds you tighter when you try to push him away.

Gradually, he feels you give up and give in to his embrace. Finally, he feels you begin to shake as tears escape your eyes.

“It was so scary,” you whimper. “I was so scared.”

Your words are like hammers battering his chest,making it impossible to breathe. He holds you tighter and speaks quietly, letting the vibration of his voice calm you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

You arrive at the gates of your house, an empty bag of convenience store chocolates between your fingers.

“Minho?”

“Yes?”

“Father can’t know what happened. Are my eyes swollen?”

He turns you by the shoulder so he is directly looking into them. “Not at all. They’re—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your father approaching, and cuts his sentence short. “Good evening, Mister L/N,” he greets.

“Ah, Minho. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

“I found Miss Y/N around my neighborhood and thought it best to escort her home.”

“You found her around your neighborhood?” 

“Yes, I was just taking an evening stroll.”

“Evening stroll?” he echoes yet again. The old man looks at the younger one’s wet, unbrushed hair.

Minho can’t do a thing but cough nervously, knowing how weak his lie is.

Thankfully, your father does not comment further. He looks between the two of you and smiles to himself. “Alright. Since you’re here, you should escort her all the way to the house.”

“Yes, sir,” Minho bows. When he straightens up again, he grins at you. “Shall we go?”

You nod with a smile of your own. “Thank you, Minho. Really.”

“Like I said, I’m always here for you.”

He cheekily takes your hand in his and hides it behind his back in case your father turns around.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he whispers.

“Hm?” 

He swipes an eyelash that fell with your tears from your cheek. “They’re not swollen; they’re beautiful.”

Your father coughs loudly in front of you.

The following week, you accompany your parents to a showing of the latest models of Han Motors. Of course, this means Minho is to lurk around in the shadows and follow you all night. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to do instead of being dragged out to the main floor by you to discuss which refreshment tastes the best.

“You know, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could have just said so,” Minho teasingly whispers into your ear.

“Shush and try this.” You roll your eyes and stuff a truffle-topped cracker between his lips. 

Minho chews for a moment before commenting, “Not great. Better than the cherry thing earlier, but the truffles your uncle gave you last time was better.”

You take one and mull over it yourself. “You’re right. This one’s too sweet.”

“Like someone I know,” he sighs off-handedly.

You snort. “I can’t tell if you’re talking about me or yourself.”

He raises a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m worthy of being called ‘sweet?’”

“Good gracious,” you roll your eyes.

The two of you have tried less and less to suppress your flirting. Thankfully, most of your comments are made in indecipherable whispers or behind closed doors, so most people haven’t noticed, but those who did definitely have a thing or two to say about it.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice breaks your conversation. 

You walk quickly past displays of shiny luxury cars to where she is. “Yes, Mother?”

She looks past you at Minho. “This does not involve you.”

Without missing a beat, he bows. Before he leaves though, you flash him a hand signal. Stay nearby. 

“You should meet the Hans’ son tonight,” your mother tells you after Minho is gone from her sight.

“Mother, I’ve already met him at my birthday party last year.”

“Yes, but this time, meet him as a man like you’re supposed to, you understand?”

“Mother, Jisung already has his eyes on—”

“Madam Han!” your mother calls before you can even finish your sentence. You close your eyes to roll them and let your shoulders slouch, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

The said woman walks over, her son in tow to help his mother introduce new cars. “Madam L/N! It is good to see you.”

First the sweet talk.

“Your face is smaller every time I see it. How do you do it?”

“Oh, you flatter me!”

Then an indirect indication of true intentions.

“It’s the truth! You simply must tell me your secrets. In the meantime, let’s have our children play amongst themselves.”

Madam Han quickly understands her implication. “Of course! They must be bored being around us old ladies. Jisung dear, take care of Miss Y/N, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mother,” he promises obediently.

You watch as the two women walk away in a fit of faux compliments. Despite leaving the two of you alone, you know they have hawk eyes on you to make sure you do as they intend.

“So,” you decide to play along, “we, uh, meet again, Jisung.”

“Yep.” He clasps his hands in front of him and looks around nervously. Not much of a conversationalist, you note.

“Tell me about this car.” You motion towards a blue SUV nearby.

“Ah, yes!” You can see the boy light up from having something he can actually talk about. “This is the Model YG. It is a family car, but it certainly does not leave out the power and class of a…”

You soon tune him out. You both know you have no interest in cars anyway, and he’s just glad to have something to fill the silence with. Your eyes begin to wander, and you catch sight of something darting around. You first pass it off as your imagination, but when you see it again, alarms go off in your head.

You grab the arm next to you. “Minho.”

Jisung looks at you inquisitively. “I’m Jisung.”

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I need to find my bodyguard. I think there’s something—”

Just then, a low whistle cuts through the air. You look up and see the giant chandelier above you beginning to tilt.

“Run!”

Unfortunately, you are right at the center of the whole structure. You bolt away right behind Jisung, but there is just no way your stupid heels can keep up with his powerful strides. There isn’t much time. You aren’t going to make it. You can hear the lower hanging parts of the light structure crashing and shattering when someone tackles you to the floor, shielding you with his own body.

“Minho!”

He lets out a hallowed gasp as a metal rod strikes him in the back. He struggles to regain his breath but keeps his eyes trained on you.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you repeat, knowing that’s what he wants to hear most. 

It’s your turn to worry about him now as he continues struggling to breathe. You help him sit upright, trying to avoid touching the million shards of glass impaling his skin. 

“Miss L/N!” You turn and see Jisung calling you from the perimeter of the mess. Thankfully, he does not look too scathed. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Get away from my daughter!”

Amidst the panic and army of security running about, everyone looks up at your mother fuming on the second floor. It is only then you realize how intimate your position with Minho is. You’re seated between his legs, turned towards him, and he has his arms around you, using your body to press on his spazzing diaphragm.

A new voice directs everyone’s attention. “Are you crazy?” It is your father this time, pulling his wife away from the railings. “He just saved her! What are you doing?”

“Jisung was supposed to save her!”

“Jisung saved himself! Can’t you see? Minho’s the one who’s willing to risk himself for our daughter. What more do you have against that?”

You blush under the eyes your parents’ conversation has put on you, but Minho does not back down. He keeps you covered as you shrink in embarrassment. 

“Jisung just needs more time with her!” your mother continues. “He’ll learn to love her!”

“Like you ever learned to love me? How many years have we been married? How many years have we tried to learn to love? Do you really wish the same thing for our daughter?”

A wave of gasps ripple through the building. Security has caught the criminals who sabotaged the convention, but no one cares. You can feel your stock prices dropping. You and your family are going to be on the front cover of every gossip magazine tomorrow. You struggle to find something— anything— to distract the crowd from what was just said. You need something big— something even bigger than your father’s confession.

In the midst of your dilemma, it is Minho who speaks first. “Let’s date.”

Another gasp echoes across the crowd. At least that did the trick.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-scream at him.

“What?” he says not-so-quietly. “Your father’s giving me permission. We might as well make it official. I promise to protect you and cherish you for the rest of our lives. What do you say, Y/N?”

Jisung is the first to start chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” and is soon joined by the rest of the party-goers. Your mother nearly faints and your father beams proudly.

“Okay,” you finally agree.

“Then kiss me,” he prompts, and you do. 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

tooth and nail

ask and you shall receive ;) @denpine14 @strawberrygem21

in which the Dimitrescu daughters exhibit cat-like traits

---------

“Dear Mother Miranda,

The girls have grown well, though there are some complications. Bela seems to have some form of anxiety and very low self-esteem, Cassandra has anger issues, and Daniela, I believe, has some type of hyperactivity disorder. Despite all of this, I love all of them dearly.

However…more strangely…they have…feline-like habits. I expected the hissing and growling, but the other things… Well, I’m not too sure how this has happened, as they were born from insects, but they weirdly act like little kittens in the most absurd ways. These mannerisms include, but are not limited to…”

“…headbutting…”

“Oof--” Alcina blinked in surprise and looked down as Bela headbutted her leg. “Yes, my darling?”

Bela giggled and headbutted her again. Alcina rubbed her head, which triggered a strange sound to fill the air.

“…and purring…”

Purring. Her daughter seemed to be purring.

Alcina’s heart swelled with love. She couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips.

Later that day, Cassandra and Daniela did the headbutting thing, too, both of them bonking her in the legs while giggling adorably. When she scratched along their scalps, they purred, just like their big sister had.

--- --- ---

“…staring when they want something…”

“Yes?” Alcina asked, raising an eyebrow at the trio of girls staring at her. If it weren’t for their different hair colors, it would have been difficult to discern them from each other with their matching black gowns and hoods. She made the mental note to give something to them to help make them out better.

Her daughters continued to stare.

“Is everything alright?”

Still nothing.

“Darlings?”

Cassandra reached out, swatted at her dress, and then they all took off running in different directions, their sock-clad feet making them run in place for a few seconds before they gained traction and streaked away in blurs of black.

--- --- ---

“…and also staring at nothing at all, as though they are seeing ghosts…”

Alcina blinked. Her daughters were staring intently at the wall, their eyes wide and shiny, like they had just witnessed the secrets of the universe. She tried to see what they were looking at but could spot nothing at all.

“What in the…?”

--- --- ---

“…pushing random things off of surfaces for seemingly no reason other than the fact that they like to…”

A loud clatter echoed down the hallway, and Alcina was quick to hurry to the source of the noise: the parlor, where Daniela was perched on one of the tables inside, staring down at a fallen candelabra. Luckily, none of the wax sticks were lit, as they would have sent the red-and-gold carpet over the floor up in flames. Daniela looked up at her, her eyes awestruck and shiny.

“Did you knock that over?” Alcina asked.

Daniela stared back. Then, slowly, reached out her hand and swatted over a cup.

--- --- ---

“…causing utter destruction…”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Alcina snapped, shooing Cassandra away from the blinds. Her daughter leaped back, her claws ripping out of the fabric she had been sharpening her talons on. “No. Do not scratch things up, Cassandra.”

Cassandra inspected her claws. “Then what am I supposed to sharpen them on? Look at how blunt they are!” They showed them to Alcina.

They were sharp enough to gut a human in one swipe.

In amusement, Alcina said, “How about tree bark? It’s rough enough to hone them.”

Cassandra considered it, then nodded. “Alright!” She bounded away to go destroy one of the trees in the garden.

That same day, Alcina found Daniela chewing on a branch in her bedroom, creating a small pile of woodchips beneath her jaw. She seemed to be doing the same thing as her older sister: sharpening her natural weapons. Alcina left her be.

--- --- ---

“…sudden hyperactivity…”

The loud sound of footsteps suddenly burst throughout the hallways, rebounding like thunder. They would stop at random, then begin again, seemingly in a sporadic pattern. When Alcina finally stepped out of her bedroom to investigate, she barely caught a blur of black as one of her daughters, she couldn’t tell who, whizzed past her like lightning. She spun around, blinking.

“What--”

At the same moment, one of the others came from a different direction and skidded to a stop in front of her. She whirled to them and saw that it was Bela.

“What are you three doing?” Alcina asked.

“Playing,” Bela answered blithely. She stepped forward, headbutted Alcina lovingly, then zoomed off again, slipping on her socks as she went.

--- --- ---

“…getting startled at the most mundane things…”

The parlor had been peaceful at one moment; Alcina was drinking her tea, while Cassandra and Daniela played chess and Bela multitasked reading and watching the game. It was then that Bela’s thread bookmark fell out and she swiped at it to pick it up. However, when the string seemed to catch on her claws, she got frightened, leaping at least five feet up into the air. Seeing their older sister so unsettled, Cassandra and Daniela did the same, nearly jumping out of their skin and scattering the game of chess as they scampered away in terror. Alcina laughed loudly as her daughters huddled against her sides, shaking.

--- --- ---

“…bringing me dead animals as gifts…”

Alcina was cleaning up for bed when there was a knock that filled her bedroom. She walked to the door and opened it, only to see no one. When she turned around, she saw Daniela clinging to her window sill, a mass of fur caught between her teeth.

“Daniela!”

Alcina quickly opened the window, and Daniela hopped inside. She presented the thing in her mouth to her with great pride: a rat.

“For you, Mother.”

“Ah-- thank you, my dove.”

Daniela purred as her head was rubbed affectionately.

The next day, Cassandra padded up to her, her chest puffed in pride, a large snake pierced by her fangs.

“A gift, Mother.”

“Thank you, my sweet.”

And then, that evening, Bela came to her door with a bird in her mouth.

“Here, Mother.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

And then the bird jerked away when Bela set it down and flew off down the hall in terror. They both watched it go.

“It was too pretty to kill.”

Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

--- --- ---

“…laying on my things when I need them…”

Alcina stared tiredly at the stack of girls laying on the folded clothes on her bed. All that space on her giant mattress that was made specifically for her size and they chose that exact spot. On her clothes.

Well. They were much too cute to wake up.

--- --- ---

“…laying on me and keeping me from getting up…”

“Maiden,” Alcina whispered.

The maid passing by stopped and turned to her instantly.

“Get me a glass of blood. I can’t get up and I am thirsty.”

The maid eyed the form of her youngest daughter stretched out on her lap, asleep, and then nodded, whisking away.

She hadn’t moved for three hours.

--- --- ---

“…they have no concept of personal space…”

Alcina was awake that night, her girls piled on top of her to the point where they were practically smothering her, Daniela and Cassandra under arms and Bela on her chest. Every time she twitched, they would move closer, snuggling in deeper to her heat. She wouldn’t be sleeping very comfortably, but at least her daughters were warm.

--- --- ---

“…sitting in strange places…”

“Are you comfortable?” Alcina asked, laughing.

Bela looked up from where she was reading and wedged inside a basket that was meant for quilts. Despite her small, wiry frame, it technically wasn’t her size, but she managed to curl herself inside, piled by the blankets and indulging herself in a good book.

“Yes,” Bela said, smiling.

Alcina would also go on to find Cassandra napping haphazardly on the banister of the upper hallway balcony, which she picked her up from and placed her back into her bed in fear of her falling off, and Daniela hiding in one of the cupboards in the kitchen.

However, none of these things beat when she found all three of her daughters crammed in a box, murmuring and giggling to each other over something.

--- --- ---

“…did I mention the purring? Because the purring is absolutely endearing. I do believe it has healing properties…”

Alcina wasn’t quite sure what she had come down with that day, but she woke up feeling exhausted and achy all over. She didn’t even think to get up and alert her girls to her condition, choosing to rather wallow in her bed, so it wasn’t a surprise when her room was soon filled by three worried bug-spawn creatures.

“Mother?” Daniela’s small hands were set on her shoulders.

Alcina stirred.

“Mother?” That was Bela, now.

She rolled over and blinked tired eyes at the worried-looking faces of her daughters.

“Hello, my darlings,” she croaked.

“Mother,” Bela said again, her voice thick with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Alcina nodded, though her mind was wavering, shrouded in a heavy fog. “I am fine. Just a little unwell.”

“Can we help you?” Cassandra asked, her hands twitching.

“Don’t worry,” Alcina answered. “I’ll be fine.”

Her daughters exchanged looks. A moment later, they were climbing onto the bed, curling up around her.

“We’re helping,” Daniela said.

Alcina had no idea how cuddling was supposed to help her, but then she heard the soft churring that filled the air. The purring in itself did little to actually heal her sickness, but something about the soft sound and the presence of her precious daughters soothed her. Bela, with her head on her chest, filled her heart with a gentle rumbling. Daniela, curled up right next to her, chirred gingerly in her ear. Cassandra, stretched out over her stomach, resonated a soothing burr throughout her body.

She chuckled tiredly. “Thank you, my loves…”

--- --- ---

“…and, at least when they were newly reborn, absolutely hating when I go into a room without them…”

She was just taking a shower. That was all. And yet, she could hear her young, one-week-old daughters on the other side of the door, yowling and screaming and scratching their claws into the wood.

“I’m just bathing!” she snapped.

They wailed louder.

--- --- ---

“…to wrap the letter up, it is certainly a strange phenomenon to the experiment, but I am not complaining at all. They are much more entertaining and endearing this way. I wouldn’t have them any other way. I would like to thank you again, Mother Miranda, for letting me have such sweet daughters.

That will be all for now. I will follow up in another letter if anything new comes up.

-Alcina Dimitrescu”

[moonlight-frittata]

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500 

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil. 

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??” 

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days. 

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.” 

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said. 

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems. 

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign. 

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand. 

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed. 

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor. 

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand. 

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.  

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day. 

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.” 

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips. 

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement. 

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon. 

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor. 

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again. 

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior. 

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to  fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you. 

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to. 

Remember this! 

Oh how is so and so?  

Damn, that was 5 years ago already? 

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself. 

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding. 

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar. 

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm. 

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.” 

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove. 

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair. 

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners. 

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar. 

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone. 

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it. 

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment. 

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software. 

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?” 

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.” 

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence. 

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused. 

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known? 

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?” 

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips. 

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It’s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone. 

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am. 

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean. 

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

[songbirdstyles]

white wedding.

summary: your estranged aunt leaves you her estate in her will with the stipulation that you have to be married to receive your inheritance. luckily, harry is more than willing to help.

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst if you squint.

song inspo.: white wedding - billy idol

word count: 13.4k

You weren’t too close to your Aunt Alice for the entirety of your life - there’s a picture, you think, hung in your parents’ house of her and some of your other family members, crowding around your bassinet when you were just a baby, her face turned up into a scowl amid everyone else’s gleaming grins, and it was a lovely foreshadow into your relationship with her. She sent you $10 on your birthdays and Christmas (an amount that your father had always scoffed at when he thought you weren’t listening - ‘she’s a goddamn millionaire,’ he’d hiss to your mother, ‘and the most she can spare her only niece is $10?’)  and you could remember, when you were 9, seeing her at a family reunion where she sat at a table pressed into a back corner and nursed glasses of wine during the entire event.

It goes without saying, you suppose, that she wasn’t the kindest lady. Your mother had told you how Aunt Alice cut off your father for some reason nobody could quite discern and, so, she never held a much larger place in your life than a mere branch on your second grade family tree project -

But, still. It’s rather difficult to regard the dead in such a negative manner so you try and focus on the good parts of your late aunt. Twice, she wrote ‘love u’ in your Christmas card. And, at said family reunion, when you walked over to her table to say goodbye before you left, she delivered a sloppy, strangely wet kiss to the side of your face that smelled distinctly of chardonnay (a scent you hadn’t quite been able to place until years later.) And - 

“Are you alright?”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, gazing out the rain-streaked car window at the night sky with an odd air of sadness surrounding you. You had been trying to hide the slight dash of sadness you feel at the memory of your aunt by disguising it with a mask of sleepiness that has you leaning your forehead against the cold window, eyes squeezed shut. But Harry can read you like a goddamn book - like the back of his hand. It’s what best friends are for, you suppose.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, tilting your head away from the window to glance at him in the driver’s seat. And, the truth is, you are fine. It’s not as though you’re entirely too saddened with the news of Aunt Alice’s passing. She’d always had health issues, according to your parents, and you’re not sure what, exactly, has sealed her fate - you’re simply more confused by it all. “Well - when we were leaving the movies, I got a call from my dad. My aunt died.”

You can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath and there’s a brief hesitation where you know he’s trying to gauge how you feel about it. “Oh,” he settles on, turning to look at you in the eye when the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “M’sorry, love.”

You shrug, glancing down to squint at your fingernails in the darkness of Harry’s car. You’d begun to pick at the baby blue nail polish he’d delicately applied the night before (they matched his, naturally) and it really is a nervous habit you should work on, but you can’t be bothered right now. “We weren’t close,” you admit, leaning back against the headrest. “It’s just weird, is all.”

“Are y’sad about it?”

“Not quite,” and it’s the truth. “She was wealthy, though. I think she wrote novels or plays or something - I’m not sure. And I was, apparently, her closest living relative that she didn’t despise.”

He clicks his tongue softly, making a left when the light finally switches to green, and his eyes shift back towards the road. “Left y’somethin’ in her will, did she?”

“Her countryside estate,” you confess, voice soft - it’s not the climax of your story but it certainly sounds like it should be, and you can see the confused crease in Harry’s eyebrows when you look up at him. “I looked the address up online, Har - it’s gorgeous, 6 beds and 7 bathrooms. I guess we had similar tastes in that regard.”

“Y’don’t sound too thrilled, for someone who jus’ got their dream house handed to ‘em on a platter.”

“There’s a stipulation in the will.”

“Ah.”

You smile tightly. “I’ll only inherit the house if I’m married.”

It’s something you’ll never understand. Aunt Alice never married and lived in that grand old house (your dream house) all by herself, and if you’d known about your role in her will perhaps you’d have argued it with her in person - the hypocrisy of it all, how goddamn unfair it was. And it’ll kill you - truly kill you - to see that house go to whoever her next closest living relative is who she doesn’t hate. Probably some third cousin twice removed, considering how great she was at cutting people off.

And Harry sits for a moment in silence, considering it. “Seems very - very - can’t think of the word.”

“Sexist? Unfair? Dumb?”

“All true,” he agrees, giving you a sympathetic smile, and it makes you feel the tiniest bit better, even if it’s just for a moment. “Barbaric, maybe.”

“I hate her,” you declare, crossing your arms over your hoodie-clad chest, and you most certainly don’t, but you’re angry enough to mean it in the moment. When your father had told you, you hadn’t thought about it too much - besides being confused by the entire thing, being left a house by a relative you hardly knew - but saying it out loud makes you angrier, squeezing your eyes shut. “Would you know she never married? How does that make sense?” “It doesn’t,” Harry repeats, and you glance out the window, lifting your palm to wipe at the cloudy stain your forehead had made against the glass - you’re just less a minute away from your apartment building, and you rip your phone from Harry’s charger and shove it into the pocket of your hoodie. “She left you time, right? T’get married? Tha’ seems only fair.”

You snort, ignoring the way his lips turn up into a smile at the noise. “She gave me a year. I mean, I’m 23 - I wasn’t intending on settling down for another couple of years.”

If you were less distracted, perhaps you’d see his responding silence for what it is - time to think, gears grinding in his head, as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and leans over the center console to wrap you in a hug. Harry’s a talkative person and he’s only really quiet when he’s got something on his mind, but you’ve got something on yours too (probably more than he does) so you ignore it. And his soft murmur into your hair of ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast’ sounds every bit as distracted as you feel so you simply pay it no mind.

It’s easier that way, for now.

 --

 “I’ve been thinkin’ about your situation.”

You raise your eyebrows at Harry, bent over his plate of French toast as though he hadn’t spoken at all. His sunglasses are perched at the end of his nose so you can see his eyes - which, in your opinion, defeats the purpose of even wearing the stupid things in public. But, whenever you two go out together, he insists on wearing them, along with a grey beanie protecting his infamous head of curls from any wandering eyes, and the bizarre attempt at a disguise always makes you feel like you’re having breakfast with a burglar. 

“Not much to think about,” you shrug, popping a forkful of omelet into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I was just mad about it last night, you know. Heat of the moment, sort of thing.”

“I’d be mad, too,” Harry tells you, and it’s getting more difficult to ignore the way his words send heat creeping up your neck, and you glance down at your plate of eggs with a small smile gracing your face. “Not jus’ heat of the moment, either. Really mad. S’bullshit.”

A second of silence passes, and you let his reassurance settle over you - simply having him agree with you on the stupidity of the entire situation makes you feel a thousand times better. Even if you don’t get the house (and you’ve already progressed into the last stage of grief over almost certainly losing it - acceptance) at least you’ll always have Harry, and maybe that’s enough.

But the house would be nice, too.

“What were you thinking about?” You question, lifting your eyes back up to meet his through his tinted glasses, and if there wasn’t the barrier between your gazes you’d be able to note the nearly shameful glint in his eyes as he digs into his stack of sugary sweet toast, doused with maple syrup and towered high with fruit. “About the situation, I mean.”

Harry begins to speak once more just as you reach over with your fork to nab a piece of banana, and he swats at your wrist as you pop the slice of fruit into your mouth. “Don’ steal my banana, babe,” he tells you, eyes narrowing in mock anger, and you roll your eyes at the name. “Anyway. S’not totally crazy, that you could get married in less than a year.”

Yes, it is, you want to reply back, but you can tell he’s ramping up to something important, so you rest your fork on your plate and furrow your eyebrows at him pointedly. Truthfully, even if the love of your life happened to be sitting in front of you, you’re not sure you could go through with marrying them, anyway. It’s such a heavy commitment and, God, you thought you’d have more time. Time to explore and experiment and not settle down (in your dream house) just for the sake of it.

“What if we got married?”

And that - is not what you were expecting him to say.

You’re not sure if he’s kidding or not so you give it a minute before responding in any capacity. Just stare at him, and he makes a point of hooking his pinkie in the center of his sunglasses and tugging them down his nose just a bit so you can see the absolute lack of amusement in his eyes. He’s all business, goddammit, as if he hadn’t just basically proposed to you in the middle of eating your fucking omelet.

But you can’t be sure he’s serious, and you also can’t be sure that the way your stomach flipped wasn’t because of a particularly egregious sip of chocolate milk and not the prospect of marrying your best friend. So you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you kidding?”

Harry just shakes his head, grey beanie sliding up just a bit for one chocolate coloured lock of hair to escape the confines of the dumb hat. “M’being dead serious, babe. I’ll get down on one knee an’ prove it, too.”

“Don’t do that,” you beg him, reaching out to grab at his wrist when he makes to push himself out of his chair, and his wide grin only sends your stomach into another set of somersaults. “Jesus, Har.”

“Horrible idea?”

You don’t respond right away, grabbing your glass of chocolate milk and wrapping your lips around the straw. It’s a few seconds to process the request in all its glory - marrying your best friend, even if it’s just for show, is a lot. Sure, all you’d really have to do is head down to a courthouse (you could do it today, even - if you wanted to, and you’re not sure you do.) It’d be easier than searching hopelessly for the love of your life and arrange a wedding in less than a year, and you’d be able to walk the halls of your aunt’s gorgeous estate, decorate it how you please, and - ideally - your relationship with Harry wouldn’t quiver in the slightest.

Well, maybe that’s why you’re hesitant to begin with. Because it would quiver - or because it wouldn’t - or because it’s plain weird to marry your best friend. Even if it’s for a good cause (your dream home) and even if he suggested it in the first place, because he cares about you and wants you to be happy.

That’s sweet.

Maybe it would be a glorious fuck you to Aunt Alice in death. It isn’t as though anyone would know about the inauthenticity of the union but you would, and that’s all the revenge you need for her adding such a silly stipulation to her will, anyway. A marriage born not out of love, but out of need - sure, it’s not exactly how you wanted your life to go, but it’s better than watching the estate go to someone you’d never met before. You could get married and get divorced in the time frame she’d given you to find love in the first place and it would hardly be a blip in your life plans, and certainly not in Harry’s. It isn’t as though he’d suggest it if the marriage would ruin anything for him. 

Sure, you’d prance around family parties with him on your arm to sell your faux romance to your family. Only one or two, though, his arm around your waist, and it wasn’t as if your parents hadn’t already begun to question whether your close friendship with Harry ventured into something further. And, when it’s all said and done, when the house is officially in your name and you can begin shopping for furniture to make it your own, it’ll be easy to sell the divorce - he’s touring, you’d tearfully proclaim, and the stress was just too much on our relationship. And then you’d both be happy, right? For the most part, anyway. Still best friends with no hassle at all, and you get your house and he gets the popstar life without the settling down part.

When you’ve swallowed your gulp of chocolate milk, it’s nearly worrying how much you’ve thought about the proposal.

“It’s not a horrible idea,” you begin, eyes diverting downward to where Harry’s fingers are fiddling with a straw wrapper. “I mean, it could be pretty easy.”

“Very easy.”

“We just elope -”

“Could do it today, even -”

“I haven’t agreed yet, Mr. Styles - but we would elope, and then I’d get the house, and maybe I’d bring you to a family reunion, just to sell it, and then we’re divorced.”

He raises his eyebrows, glasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose until their purpose has been completely obliterated, and his eyes are on display for the goddamn world to see. “Unless we fall in love an’ live happily ever after - no divorce necessary, m’love.”

Bastard. Your stomach flips again but you just roll your eyes, picking up your fork and lifting a shaky bite of eggs up to your mouth. “Shut up.”

You’re almost certain you’ve made up your mind but you still make a show of thinking about it, slowly chewing on your omelet and focusing your gaze on a paper napkin resting on the ground beside Harry’s chair. It’s almost too easy, the entire process, and maybe that should make you nervous, just a little bit, that the idea of marrying him feels so relaxing. But - well - if you had to choose anyone in the world to marry in order to fulfill a stipulation in your aunt’s will, it would have to be Harry.

He’s looking at you eagerly when you look back up at him, and you’re not sure why he’s so excited about it - not like there’s anything in it for him - but it’s something you’ll think about later.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” you tell him, watching the way his grin spreads across his face like wildfire, and you can’t help yourself from smiling, too, “but I am.”

In seconds, Harry’s reaching across the table, grabbing your hand in his larger one, and just the way your heart jumps at the feeling of your palms pressed together should certainly have you rethinking your enthusiastic yes. But then he’s picking up the straw wrapper he’d been fiddling with, and it’s twisted into a makeshift wedding ring, and he’s sliding it onto your ring finger with a wide smile like a fucking puppy -

God. You’re in too deep already, and you’ve only just agreed.

 --

 For the record, you’d rethought your decision many, many times since agreeing.

You’d drafted out the text for Harry for when you inevitably will change your mind - a block of words confessing to him that you’d reacted too quickly and you think it would be best if you simply forfeit your inheritance, but you can never quite gather the guts to do it. And every time you copy and paste the note from your notes to your text thread with your best friend, something always stops you -

The photos of the house from the real estate website you’d seen it on.

Harry’s wide grin as you accepted his offer.

FIngers delicately sliding on an engagement ring made of a paper straw wrapper, and the next day when he’d shown up at your door with an actual, real engagement ring.

Naturally, you hadn’t sent it. You’d deleted the note entirely, too, embarrassed with even looking at your words of defeat sprawled on your phone screen. Sometimes, though, you wish you had fucking sent it. Nearly two weeks after accepting the proposal that still hasn’t progressed from feeling like an absolute fever dream, you’re sitting with Harry at Aunt Alice’s funeral, his arm hooked around the back of your chair and the other clutching a glass of wine that he’s hardly taken two sips of.

You’re on your second glass already, and it’s barely been an hour. You’d signed the guestbook and hooked your arm with Harry’s and introduced him as your fiance to exactly one of your great-aunts, and you’d been so nervous that Aunt Shirley could see right through your faux-engagement that you’d practically downed your glass the second her back turned. 

“This is so weird,” you confess to Harry, shifting closer to him so no one else around you can hear. Not that there is, per se, anyone else around you - not many other people are sitting down, but you and Harry were one of the first people to arrive, so you’ve given yourselves a pass to sit down for a while. “Isn’t it weird, Har?”

“S’only weird if you make it weird,” he murmurs back, and you would roll your eyes at how maddeningly calm he is if you weren’t desperate to keep up your pretense as loving fiance to the funeral goers whose wandering eyes may turn to you two. “And, babe, you’re makin’ it weird.”

Your lips spread into a smile and you lift your glass of wine to your lips, taking a small sip before bringing it back down to your lap. No matter how many times you scream at yourself, internally, that nobody knows you’re not engaged and to calm the fuck down, you can’t stop your leg from bouncing up and down, showcasing your nerves in the most outward way you possibly could. “Wonder when my parents are getting here - should’ve texted them and told them separately. Did you tell your mum?”

“Told her the truth,” Harry tells you, tilting his head into yours in a way that feels so natural you swear you could stay this way forever. “You’re not tellin’ your parents the truth?”

“Bless my mum,” you sigh, “but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Harry exhales a soft laugh, eyes darting around the room full of people before landing back on yours, and your gazes lock for just the briefest of seconds before he’s glancing down at your lap. “Y’don’t have t’do this if you’re uncomfortable, y’know. We can jus’ say - the pressure of m’job was too much.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you tell him, which is true. You’re nervous, for sure, but he could never make you uncomfortable. “And, ironically enough, that’s my excuse for when we divorce.”

Your voice drops to a near breath on the last word and Harry’s head drops back with a bark of laughter that’s entirely too loud for the setting you’re at but you can’t bring yourself to reprimand him. “Always talkin’ ‘bout our divorce,” Harry breathes, tilting his head closer to yours so his mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his breath, hot against your skin. “What if we fall in love, babe? No divorce then. Don’ y’want us t’live happily ever after?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you roll your eyes, even if you’re almost positive you will (or already have) and shake your head at Harry’s resulting chuckle. “Been best friends for nearly five years, haven’t we? If we were going to fall in love, I reckon it would’ve happened already, Har.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, voice oddly soft and sounding just sentimental enough for you to narrow your eyes suspiciously at him - but before you can question him further, his eyes dart down to where your leg is still frantically bouncing up and down. “Bloody hell, love - bouncin’ your leg so much. Y’look like a nervous wreck.”

“Thanks,” you begin, and whatever else you’d been meaning to say dies in your throat as Harry’s arm shifts from around the back of your chair and his hand comes down firm on your leg. His fingertips brush your knee and his palm lays soft against your thigh, just high enough to gently brush the end of your black dress and you wish you could control the way your stomach flips again and again like a fucking gymnast.

It’s to keep up appearances, you tell yourself. So people don’t think I’m so nervous. But it feels so nice, so natural in a way you hadn’t expected, feeling his hand resting on your thigh like it belongs there, fingertips drumming against your knee which most certainly isn’t bouncing anymore.

Your eyes flit up to his, narrowing them ever so slightly as if to sniff out his intentions, and out of the corner of your eye you can see two familiar figures walking in the high arched doors of Aunt Alice’s service. Your parents break off from each other nearly the second they enter, your father skirting off to greet some of his cousins and your mother’s eyes scan the room filled with relatives before landing on you and Harry.

“Mum’s here,” you tell Harry, pushing yourself to stand, and the feeling of his hand dropping off your thigh is a sensation you absolutely despise. He stands soon after you, adjusting the cuffs of his black button down shirt, and for the first time since the funeral began, you can see the beginnings of nervousness creeping upon him. A light pink flush works its way up his neck to his cheeks and he brings his hand up to run through his hair, inhaling a shaky breath. “You look nervous, Har. You’ve met my mum before.”

“S’different. Now we’re engaged.”

“Not too different.” You hook your arm with Harry’s, patting his hand with yours, and he gives you one grateful fleeting grin before you begin walking over to your mother. She’s bent over the guestbook, scribbling her name with the feather pen resting beside the log. You stop walking when you’re just a couple paces behind her, waiting for her to turn around and see you two - and your voice drops to a hushed tone as you reassure Harry. “I think she already sort of thought we were dating anyway - so she won’t care too much.”

“Wait - she did?”

“Hey, mum!”

 --

 You’re getting married in a week.

And, sure, you’d known that the entire process would move quicker than you could imagine but it still feels surreal and you still reckon you haven’t thought it through enough. It’s worsened (or, in some way, bettered) by the absolute adoration your family had immediately adopted towards Harry after meeting him just a few days ago, your aunts pulling you aside at the funeral and the repast that occurred after and whispering in your ear about what a handsome man he is! 

Well, they’ll certainly be disappointed when, in a month or two, you pop in to the next family gathering and announce that you two had gotten divorced as quickly as you’d been wed. Harry will be your ex husband and, at that point, surely people would be suspicious at the speed of which everything had happened but - hey - you’ll have your house and your best friend and that’s all you really need, isn’t it.

Yeah.

Slowly but surely, you’re coming to peace with it, and Harry’s certainly making it easier by being so zen about it all. His nerves at the funeral had been just about eradicated because your mum loves him, which you knew, and your father had seemed positively overjoyed at the news of your engagement, but they’d both seemed rather disappointed at your decision to elope instead of spending the time planning a big white wedding. And you’d expected that, but you figure that, by the time your second marriage inevitably rolls around, it’ll be real (realer than whatever you’re feeling for Harry, because you’re still not sure) and your father will walk you down the aisle and you’ll be able to go shopping for a big gorgeous wedding dress like you’d always dreamt of wearing.

You haven't even bought a dress. The one you’re wearing now, staring at yourself in the floor length mirror propped against your bedroom wall, is one you’d purchased for your college graduation to wear beneath your gown - simple and flowy, falling to just about your mid-thigh, and the only redeeming quality for even being considered a wedding dress is its white color. Still - it isn’t as though it’s a real wedding, in the traditional sense, so it doesn’t make sense for you to spend too much on a gown you’ll don for a trip to the courthouse and then get sad whenever you look at it again, post-divorce.

No, you don’t think you like it. You’d liked it for your graduation but for a wedding (your wedding) you wish you had something just a bit nicer, and you want to strip out of it and change back into your jeans but Harry’s sitting in your living room, waiting for you to model the stupid thing for him, and you’d hate to disappoint him. So you inhale softly, run your hand down the fabric, soft beneath your fingers, and reach for the door.

Harry’s on his phone when you step out of your bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind you, his body looking strangely large where he’s perched on the small loveseat in your living room. Everything in your apartment seems too small for him - or just too small in general - and it’ll be a nice change to live in a house where you can hold gatherings of more than 5 people without feeling like sardines in a can.

“Har,” you call, reaching down to tug the ends of your dress just a bit further down your thighs as you step further into the living room, bare feet padding against the plush rug your parents had gotten you as a Christmas gift the year prior. “What do you think of the dress?” You can hear the click of his phone as he turns it off, dropping it on the cushion beside him, and heat creeps up your cheeks as his gaze turns to you - you should feel self conscious, the way his eyes roll up and down your body, drinking in every bit of your dress, but you fucking love it. Love the way his lips part into a small o and upturn into a grin, how he pushes himself to stand and close the distance between you two until he’s hardly two inches away from you, how he reaches down to pick up the end of your dress as though examining the fabric.

“Do you like it?” You question as Harry drops your dress, letting the fabric fall back down around your thighs. “Wasn’t sure if I did.”

“I love it,” he tells you, immediate and forceful and you can tell he means it with his whole chest - maybe you love it, too. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too simple, do you?” Maybe you’re fishing for more compliments but you allow yourself to do it shamelessly. “It was my graduation dress - remember?”

“I do remember,” Harry grins, tugging at the bottom of your dress, and keeping his hands busy is a nervous habit of his that you’ve grown to recognize from a hundred miles away, but you can’t think of why, exactly, he’d be nervous now. “Looked so pretty, walkin’ across tha’ stage. I was so proud.”

You smile, gaze dropping down to where his fingers are fiddling with the skirt of your dress, and you think you’ll wear this dress every single goddamn day if he reacts as positively to it as he is now. “You sound like my dad.”

His nose scrunches when you look back up at him, and your heart twists inside your chest. “Don’ make it gross.” You simply shrug, bringing your fingers up to drum against his shoulders through the fabric of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, his muscles flexing ever so slightly beneath your touch. “M’being serious, though. I love the dress. Y’make the prettiest bride on the planet - m’a lucky man, aren’t I.”

From the moment you walked out of your room you’ve been feeling heat burning your cheeks but it doesn’t stop you from gently smacking his shoulder. “Stop it - you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like y’already are, Mrs. Styles.”

Should that name make your stomach as topsy-turvy as it does? 

You shake your head, smoothing your palms over the front of your dress to both eradicate the wrinkles that adorn the fabric and to wipe off the sweat cropping up on your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous around Harry before and you can’t quite place your finger on why, but it’s getting more difficult to look him in the eye with your heart pounding as fast as it is. “I’m not gonna be Mrs. Styles for another week.” 

Harry exhales softly, fingertips tapping against your hip and you hadn’t even realized how close his hands were to that spot of your body - but it feels comforting, his touch on an oddly intimate part of you. “I can’t wait,” he says, and you can’t, either. “Makin’ me a very lucky groom, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe could make you go crazy if you focus on it for too long, so you don’t - and it’s hard to focus on much other than Harry himself as his head drops down, forehead pressed to yours, and oh God you can smell his fucking gum, and if you tilt your head up ever so slightly -

Is he going to kiss you? You think your heart will explode but you’ve never wanted anything more so you tilt your head up, just a bit, grip tightening on his shoulder, and you can feel his breath growing warmer against your face -

The sound of Harry’s phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of your haze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands dropping off your hips, and your head drops downwards with a soft groan. It was so close. You could feel his breath against your face and how did that fucking opportunity pass you by? - “S’my mum. Fuck - m’sorry.” And you’re not sure if he’s apologizing for the call or what had (or, rather, had not) happened but it doesn’t matter.

One glance at the phone he’s tugged out of his pocket shows that he’s right - Anne’s contact photo smiles up at you and you give Harry a small nod, faking the smile you’re not feeling, before taking a step back against your plush carpet as he turns around, back to you, phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m gonna change,” you whisper to no one in particular. Harry’s head turns just a bit so you can catch the apologetic look on his face before he’s loudly greeting Anne, and you’ve never liked eavesdropping on their calls. So you turn and head to your bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind you and turning to stare at yourself, wide-eyed, in your mirror.

He almost kissed you.

He didn’t - but would he have? If Anne hadn’t rung him - would he have leaned down, breathing shaky, like how it always is when he’s nervous, and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours? And you would’ve known exactly how it feels to be kissed by him, whether it would be as dream-like as all the times you’ve dreamt of it. His hands on your hips, yours on his shoulders, bodies slotted together until your hands are roaming and you’re pushing him on to the couch, sliding into his lap and his hands would roam to your thighs -

It doesn’t do well to think about it now. You don’t want to get yourself too worked up about it - that doesn’t do anyone much good - and you don’t want to take too long to change. So you inhale a soft breath, smooth your clammy palms back over the front of your wedding dress, and you allow yourself one final glance in the mirror at the attire you’ll be donning in a week’s time before reaching around to your back, fiddling with the zipper until you can begin to tug it down.

 --

 You and Harry haven’t talked too much since you showed him your dress, and it’s probably not very great etiquette for an engaged couple, but you two have never been normal anyway.

He sent you a picture of the suit he’s wearing and it’s as every bit unconventional as your excuse of a wedding dress, and you told him that - how you would be a pair for the books, the opposite of what a regular married couple looks like. And you texted him just yesterday and asked if he would make you two a reservation at your favourite restaurant for dinner after the elopement (he always tended to get the nicer tables, and you don’t pretend not to know why) and he sent you back two thumbs-up emojis in response.

You’re getting married in three days, though. It would probably be best to talk about it with him before you cross that bridge but it’s never been one of your stronger areas, so you leave it be for now.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questions, tilting her head in so you can hear her against the thumping music of the club. Your friends had insisted on dragging you out for a bachelorette party the second they hard of your engagement and it would be out of character for you to refuse a night of drinks on them - even if you’d rather stay home and think about Harry and all the things you should’ve done when he was at your apartment. Getting drunk out of your mind does seem preferable to wallowing, though, now that you’re out and about and well on your way to getting smashed - so you turn to Olivia and nod once, a simple jerk of your head.

“I’m fine,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the cocktail Amy had gotten for you and bringing the straw to your lips. “Just thinking about Harry.”

Amy snorts from her spot across the booth, dipping her finger into her empty shot glass and licking up the droplet she collected. “Can’t believe it took you two so long to get together.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” interjects Olivia, reaching over to grab your glass out of your hand and taking a sip of your drink. “How long have you two been together again?”

Fuck. You’re in the grey area between being tipsy and being drunk and you can’t remember how long you and Harry had claimed to be together. Was it a year or two years? You think it’s a year - you’d wanted to go as low as possible with your answer. Did we say six months? That seems too low. “I’ve liked him since I’ve known him,” you answer instead, which is absolutely the truth, and Amy and Olivia are both too drunk to ponder about your evasion of the question. “Loved him, even.”

Your fingers brush against your phone, sitting on the table face down, as your friends playfully swoon - the last time you’d texted Harry was to tell him you were going to the club, and you hadn’t checked to see if he responded. It’s always been a habit between the two of you to text where you’re going, in case something happens, which seems oddly barbaric at times but you’ve always appreciated it.

“You’re so lucky,” Amy informs you, reaching across the booth to intertwine your fingers. She gets sappy when she’s drunk and you can tell from the distinct crack in her voice that she’s mere seconds away from bursting into tears and professing how much she loves you and Olivia - you don’t ever quite enjoy being around to see that. “I mean, really. You and Harry - we always knew it would happen -”

“I should call him real quick,” you mumble, watching as her eyes water over, and Olivia rolls her eyes with a grin as she scoots around the other side of the booth so Amy can throw her arms around her. You grab your phone and push yourself out of the booth, maneuvering through the crowd of people until you’ve reached the bathroom.

It's a single stall and the club is small enough that you only have to wait a minute or two before a thoroughly shitfaced woman stumbles out of the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoes, but she’s gone before you can point it out to her. You brush it off with a shrug and shut the door behind you once you’re inside the bathroom - it smells like Febreze and mint soap, and the scent of the mint reminds you of Harry’s breath and you really need to call him, don’t you.

You’re scrolling through your call log before you can wonder if calling your best friend who you’re in love with while you may be quite drunk is a bad idea - the phone is ringing just as you begin to - and he’s picked it up just when you realize you’ve made a mistake.

“Hey, babe,” Harry says from the other end, voice crackling with the poor reception in the club. He sounds groggy and raspy and you can tell you’ve either woken him up or he’s trying to go to sleep, and you don’t actually know what time it is, you realize. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m at a club,” you tell him, and you can hear his soft exhale of air and you can practically picture the slow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m out with Amy and Olivia - they wanted to take me out for a bachelorette party or something - s’kinda dumb, I dunno -”

“Are y’drunk? S’just, you’re slurrin’ a lot -”

“I’m tipsy,” as you sit back on the closed toilet seat, fingernails digging into your thigh. You don’t actually know what you’d called him to say but four days without talking to Harry seems like it’s setting some sort of record and you hate it. “Just wanted to call because - um - well, I miss you.”

For a second you think the call may have broken up - you can’t hear much beside his soft breathing, and you pull the phone away to check if it’s still connected. But then he sighs softly, and you’re quick to press your phone back to your ear. “I miss y’too, m’love - ‘course I do.”

“That’s sweet.” You hum softly, kicking your toes against the tiled bathroom floor. “I thought you might be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “That’s why I was confused. But you haven’t texted me much.”

You can fucking sense him rolling his eyes. “Well, y’didn’t text me either. I thought you were mad at me -”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what happened the other day,” you interject, and you know you wouldn’t be telling him this if you weren’t teetering more towards being drunk instead of tipsy, “and I really wanted to kiss you, you know. I mean, I thought you were going to - and then it didn’t happen.”

“Well, m’mum called.”

“Would you have done it if she didn’t?”

There’s a pause for only the briefest of seconds before Harry says, “‘Course I would have.”

Your heart flutters inside your chest and you lean your head back against the wall, nails digging further into your thigh and it’s difficult to hold back the grin that threatens to split your goddamn face in two. God, he would have. He would have kissed you - does he love you like how you love him? It seems fucking unreal, like something you’d dream up in your deepest sleep. You’d never thought Harry would ever feel the same way, even as you got a fucking marriage license together and planned out the dinner you’d eat after your elopement and -

You can’t think of a single other one of your friends who would fucking marry you for any reason, house or no house, life or death. And who would you do it for? Not Amy, not Olivia, even if they asked you nicely. It’s a commitment - a huge one - one that you wouldn’t be willing to do for anyone.

But you’d do it for Harry, in a heartbeat. You know you would. You’d have the fucking dress on before he could finish asking, and isn’t that what you had done, really? He hadn’t had to convince you much at all. You’d been willing from the get-go.

“Really?” Your voice is barely a breath, a soft exhale of air, reeking of the giddy joy you’re feeling at his proclamation. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Y’know I never lie to you.” Harry sounds nearly offended at the mere idea. “You are m’fiance. Comes with a code of conduct.”

You roll your eyes, and just then there’s a loud knock against the door - you jump violently, phone nearly slipping from your grasp. For a minute you’d forgotten you’re in a club bathroom and you know you’ve been here far too long to be appropriate - you’ll give yourself just one more minute to talk to Harry. “What about when we get divorced? Gonna lie to me then?”

“Always talkin’ about the divorce,” he murmurs, and his voice sounds so full of adoration that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. “D’you have such little confidence about the strength of our relationship?”

If it were up to you, you’d be with Harry forever - but you can’t tell him that, not yet. “It’s not as though it’s a traditional relationship, you know. I don’t think most marriages that began for the sake of a house inheritance last too long,” you smile, feeling heat burning up your face even if he can’t see you. “Just generally speaking.”

“Hope y’got the statistics t’back that one up -”

Another louder knock shakes you again, and you jump up as though someone had set you aflame. Your phone nearly slips out of your clammy grasp once more and you clear your throat, lowering the device to your shoulder and calling, “Just a second!” to whoever’s waiting impatiently outside. You raise your phone back to your ear and clear your throat again. “I’ve gotta go, Har. I’m in the bathroom at the club - been in here a bit too long.”

“Aright,” Harry says, and you can hear soft shuffling from the other end, audio still crackled by the reception. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

You tilt your head to the side, scrunching your nose up before remembering he can’t see you. “I think it’s tradition for the bride and groom not to see each other before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“I’ll see you at the courthouse, Har,” you tell him, before pulling the phone from your ear and hanging up. For a second you can’t move, staring down at Harry’s contact in your phone with a giddy grin that surely makes you look like some child in a candy store - and, in a way, you are - and it’s only a third knock at the bathroom door that has you scrambling out the door, giving an apologetic grin to the girl waiting impatiently.

 --

 Being married - for the record - doesn’t feel too much different than before.

There’s a shiny ring on your finger that Harry had bought, and when you glance across the table where he’s sitting, clutching his menu, you can see the similar wedding ring on his left hand - it’s simplistic and small and contrasts with the rest of his clunky rings and it makes you feel strangely warm inside when you spend too long looking at it. And, even after you and Harry had talked at the club, your ‘post-elopement’ dinner doesn’t feel entirely different than all of the other dinner dates you’d shared before the entire situation began. It’s familiar and sweet and his ankle is hooked around yours under the table, forcing a permanent heat onto your cheeks.

Harry rests his menu on the table, fingertips drumming against the laminated paper, and you similarly drop yours to look at him. “Think m’gonna get the spaghetti.”

It’s a testament to the slight air of awkwardness surrounding you both that the only thing he can think to talk about is the food he’s getting - but you’ll play along. “I like the raviolis,” you tell him. “Think I’ll get those.”

He hums softly, pushing his menu further into the table. “Can y’believe tha’ we’re married? I can’t. Seems so weird.”

“Doesn’t feel that different,” you disagree, toes tapping against his ankle beneath the table. “It’s not like we didn’t go out for dinner together before we got hitched.”

“We’re playin’ footsies under the table, babe.”

You grin down at your napkin, resting on your lap on top of your wedding dress. “Be careful or I’ll kick you, Har.”

His ankle tightens just a bit around yours beneath the table and you could watch that small smile spreading across his face for the rest of your life. “Y’wouldn’t dare - don’t y’love me?”

Yes, you do, so you resist the urge to unhook your ankle from around his and deliver a swift kick to his calf - just rest your palms on the table, scratching lightly at the rustic wood of the table. It’s hard for you to even pretend to be mad at him when all you can think about is how much you want to climb over the table and straddle him - as his wife you suppose it isn’t an insane thought, and you’re nearly certain he’s feeling the same way. Hadn’t he told you he would have kissed you if he hadn’t been called by Anne? Maybe you’ll get a chance to do it again - later. You’ll never give up the opportunity again.

“When d’you get t’move into the house?” Harry questions, leaning in just a bit in his seat. 

“A few months, I think.” You shrug. “Reckon I’ll start redecorating before then, though. I’m already looking at furniture - I’ve gotta save up for most of it, though. Might sell my apartment before then.” There’s a pause, and then you shrug once more, picking at a crack in the table. “I’ll probably move back in with my parents.”

Harry’s eyebrows are raised when you glance up at him, fingers paused in their drumming on the menu. “Are y’kidding? We’re married. You can move in wit’ me.”

“I can’t ask you to do that -”

“Not asking, are you? Even if we didn’t just elope at a courthouse, you’re still m’best friend. Can’t have you moving in t’your mum’s basement.”

You smile softly, flattening your palms against the table and craning your neck to examine the ring - proof that it had really happened, that you’re really married. It still doesn’t feel quite real, no matter how many times you and Harry casually talk about it. “Was gonna live in her attic, actually.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay f’the furniture, too. Don’t look at me like tha’ - s’our house. Needs t’be ready f’when we move in.”

You hesitate, trying poorly to conceal the way your grin is arching further upwards at the mere prospect of what he’s hinting at. Living with Harry? Jesus, even if you weren’t in love with him, living with him sounds like an absolute dream, only made better by your feelings for him. And picturing walking through an Ikea, searching for furniture, feeling his arm around your shoulders as you two look online for decorations - if heaven were a place on Earth, it would be your Aunt Alice’s estate, soon inhabited by you and your husband. “Well, we’ll talk about it, alright?” you land on as your response. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything, and the silence isn’t as stifling with awkwardness as it had been before. Then Harry reaches over, resting his hand overtop of yours, fingers instinctively intertwining, and your heart nearly splits itself in two - he initiated it, holding your hand, and maybe you shouldn’t feel so surprised but you can’t fucking help it. Your scalp is tingling and you swear your eyes are going to bubble over and his hand feels just as soft and beautiful as you’d expected - as you’d always dreamed of.

You’re not sure when, exactly, there would ever be a better time to tell him than now, so you clear your throat and squeeze his hand and confess, “I’ve liked you for a really long time, Har.”

Sharing your feelings isn’t necessarily your strongest spot but you’re feeling egged on by absolutely everything, and the way Harry brushes his thumb against your palm encourages you to continue. “I mean - since we met, basically - but I never told you. Never thought you would like me back.”

“I did,” he interjects, and you look up at him with furrowed brows. “Liked you back, I mean. Clearly - hope y’didn’t think I’d run off an’ marry anybody this fast.”

“I just thought you were being nice.”

“You’re silly, then.”

“A real idiot,” you proclaim, rubbing soft circles into the back of Harry’s hand, and you swear you’ll never let go unless someone fucking rips you away. “Guess I should’ve figured it out, then - seems like we did everything in the wrong order, right?”

Harry snorts, a noise that draws the slightest attention from an older couple sitting at a table beside you, but neither of you pay them any attention. “Get married first, fall in love second.”

“I was already in love,” and you’re not sure why, exactly, you had said that but it feels right and true falling off your tongue so you decide, pointedly, not to regret it.

There’s no hesitation when Harry responds, voice laced with the authenticity you’re so desperately craving - “Reckon I was, too.” You barely get a minute to process that and how it’s making your stomach do flips and turns like an Olympic medalist before he’s standing up, fingers still interlocked with yours to pull you up with him. “How d’you feel ‘bout a sleepover tonight?”

“A sleepover?”

He barely looks at you as he fishes through the pocket of his dress pants to pull out his wallet. “Not like we haven’t had them before.”

That’s true - you’ve slept over at Harry’s house so many times, it’s like a second home to you - but you have a distinct idea that, based off of your previous conversation and the wedding rings shining on both of your fingers, this sleepover will be just a bit different. 

“Skipping out on the reservation, then?” you question, squeezing Harry’s hand as he tosses a $50 onto the table - a significant overkill for your lemonade and his Coke but you suppose he’s feeling rather generous today. “I am rather hungry.”

“We’ll eat at my house,” he insists, leading you through the maze of tables with a grip that’s so tight, you wonder if he’s having the same qualms as you are about never letting go. “Y’like pizza, don’t you?”

 --

 You’ve been in Harry’s house more times than you can count, but it’s never been like this.

His hand is still firm in yours and it’s a feeling you adore - even if his palm has gotten clammier with every second, every step you took closer to his front door, and you can practically smell the nervousness rolling off of him. It’s not unlike the worry that’s overtaken you because you’re not quite sure what he’s expecting - only know what you want to happen and you pray to any god above that your desires align with his.

The sound of Harry shutting the door is the only crack of noise burning through the otherwise thick silence surrounding you. Neither of you had known what to say and the car ride was taken in comfortable silence, hands clasped and heads bobbing to soft music playing on the radio, but being in his house is different - there’s no music, no excuse for Harry to keep his eyes off of you, nowhere to lean your head and pretend to be resting your eyes while your heart uncontrollably thumps against your chest.

In ways, it’s better. Most ways, in fact.

Slowly, you turn to face Harry, fingers drumming against the back of his hand. His breathing is heavy and his eyes never leave yours, and you’re reminded remarkably of trying on your dress for the first time in front of him and your position hadn’t been too unlike this one - maybe now you can do it right.

It feels entirely natural, tilting your head up until you can easily slot your lips to Harry’s. They’re soft and plump and he kisses you back with a vigor you hadn’t quite expected - deepening it before you have the chance to react, his free hand that’s not clutching yours roaming to your neck and you can’t ignore the way your stomach flips at the feeling of his hand on your throat. But then his hand keeps moving up, palm pressing to your cheek in such a sweet gesture that doesn’t at all match the intensity with which he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth - your hand lands on his waist, gripping the flowy material of his dress shirt, pulling his body as close to yours as you can get.

You only pull away to catch your breath, grip tightening on his shirt to ensure he won’t move away - you need him close to you, need to feel his body against yours - the bulge near his thigh that you can feel against your pelvis, hardening with every second that passes.

“Why’d you move?” Harry questions, voice soft and vulnerable and you can’t help but lean up and land another kiss to his mouth. 

“Had to breathe, Har,” you murmur, smoothing your hands against his waist and the wrinkles you’ve surely created in the fabric. His fingers brush the edge of your jawline and you can feel your skin growing goosebumps beneath his touch.

He simply hums in response, ducking his head down to kiss you again. It’s sweeter this time, soft and fluffy but you don’t want that now - God, you want his hand around your neck and his knee between your thighs but perhaps that’ll have to wait for another time. You’re needy for just about anything you can get and if that’s sugary sweet kisses, a touch so gentle you could trick yourself into believing it isn’t there, then you’re more than grateful.

Harry’s teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to have you moaning into his mouth and your nails dig into his through his shirt - the resulting whine into your mouth has you smirking against his lips, pushing your hips further into his. It’s the clearest way you can think of to tell him that you need him beyond kisses and touches.

“Jesus,” he breathes and you can feel his cock, twitching against your thigh and it’s a sensation you never thought you’d be able to experience outside of your deepest dreams - it feels twice as good as you’d imagined. “Gonna make me go crazy, babe.”

That’s exactly what you want.

“Hey,” and you pull away from him, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath still hot on your face, “don’t we have to fulfill the tradition of consummating the marriage?”

He laughs, a loud exhalation of air rather than his true barking laugh, but you smile anyway at the sound. “S’not the middle ages - no one’s expecting us to, if y’don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to.” Harry’s hand slides backwards into your hair, pulling the strands into a ponytail and tugging and your resulting moan has him smirking like a smug bastard against your lips. “God, Har. I really want to.”

It seems that that was the exact response he’d wanted - you get one last lingering kiss to your lips before Harry’s pulling away, hand falling away from your hair and other still interlocked with your own. You don’t have a second to question where, exactly, he’s leading you but then he’s tugging you through the foyer and down the halls and up the staircase you’ve grown to know so well - the trek to his bedroom has never seemed so viciously long until now, but by the time Harry swings open the door, you feel as though you’ve been walking for hours instead of barely a minute.

“On the bed, babe,” he directs you, all raspy tone and dominance lacing every last syllable and you can’t ignore the gush of arousal you can feel rushing straight to your core. It’s the stuff that makes up dreams, really, his fucking voice, and you know just the four simple words would be enough to get you off for years from now. “C’mon.”

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying - your footsteps are nearly completely silent on the carpet as you walk over to the end of Harry’s bed, pushing yourself up to sit on the plush duvet, sinking into the mattress that feels like an absolute cloud compared to the rock you’re used to sleeping on. For a brief second, he doesn’t move - just stands and stares at you, chest heaving through the baby blue dress shirt that your needy grasp had wrinkled. Then he moves, shutting the door with a barely perceptible click before making his way over to you, gazing up at him with heat blazing in your eyes.

Perhaps you’re expecting him to push you onto the bed, to fulfill the dominant tone he’d held before, so it is a bit of a surprise to see your best friend (your husband) dropping to his knees before you, fingertips ever so gently trailing up and down your calves.

The bedroom is so silent, save for your panting breaths and Harry’s shaky ones and you reckon he may be more nervous than you are - you’d expected him to handle all of the confidence between you two but his fingers are shaking as he pulls off your heels, resting them side by side on the carpet at the end of the bed. Chills crop up over your skin as his gentle touch roams up your legs, landing on your knee, and your breath hitches in your throat as the man you’ve loved for nearly 5 years leans in, lips landing a soft kiss to the top of your calf.

This isn’t what you had expected - him fucking worshipping you, on his knees - you’d never pictured it in a million years. And maybe it’s proof of the difference between him and the other guys you’d been with - your ex-boyfriends and flings had always been worried about their pleasure, never paying you any attention, and Harry couldn’t be closer to the end of the spectrum. Your entire body feels warm beneath his watchful gaze and touch, how he brings one hand up to snap firmly when your eyes flutter shut. 

“Look at me,” Harry directs, and despite the slight strain in his actions, his words still hold a never-faltering dominance that he’d had before. “C’mon, babe. I don’ want you to look away from me - can y’do that?”

It’s a task that’s easier said than done, but you nod anyway, swallowing thickly as Harry redirects his attention back to your legs. His hand, resting delicately on your left knee as though you’d break if he put too much pressure, slides down the length of your leg until he’s grasping your ankle, kneading the soft skin in his grasp while his lips linger at the top of your knee.

Using his grip on your ankle, Harry hoists your leg up onto the bed without warning, your toes digging into the end of the bed - uses his other hand to push your thigh outward so you’re on display for him like a goddamn feast and his smug grin proves that he can see just how wet you are, soaking through the white lace panties you’d chosen for the occasion. Heat blooms up your cheeks as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing your soft skin, and then he gives a dramatic inhale and - that’s -

You reach down, bracing both palms on the side of his face and forcing your husband (husband!) to look at you in the eye. He looks confused by your interjection and apologetic and that isn’t what you were going for but you hadn’t expected him to want to eat you out - most guys didn’t.

“You don’t have to do that, Har,” you murmur, giving a pointed glance to your lap that he’s been eyeing like it’s his dessert. “I won’t be mad.”

And Harry looks almost offended by the prospect of not wanting to, like you’d insulted him - “I want to. D’you not want me to?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice hardly above a breath, and when he begins to pull away you continue. “No! I mean - yes, I want you to.”

He grins, wide and toothy and reminding you of exactly why you’d fallen for him in the first place, and you settle back into your spot on the bed with your nerves almost completely eradicated. He wants to - he’s not doing it because he feels obligated - it’s already a step up from any other guy you’d ever been with.

Fingers trail up your thighs as Harry’s lips close around the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, cheeks hollowing as he sucks a deep purple hickey, and you lift your hips just a bit so he can hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties and begin to tug them down. The crotch area is practically dripping with your arousal and it takes a bit more force to tug it away from your cunt but once they’re gone, Harry grabs your ankle again and straightens out your leg, making it easier for him to tug the offending material down your body and toss them away from the bed before resting your foot back on the edge.

You can hear his shaky breathing as he pulls his lips away from your thigh, thumb smoothing over the mark he’d left as if to prove it exists. You’d get it fucking tattooed if you could - to forever commemorate this experience - his mark in such a secretive place, just a breath away from where you need him most.

“Jus’ - jus’ tell me if y’want me t’stop,” Harry tells you, eyes interlocking with yours once more, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Lean back f’me, then - not too far, jus’ a bit - still need t’see you.”

So you lean back, propping yourself up on your arms, a barely reclined position from how you��d been sitting before. It’s easier to see him as he grabs the hem of your dress, tugs it up just a bit, but when you lift your hips so he can pull it out from under your ass he doesn’t comply - well, perhaps he has other plans with it, doesn’t want the dress to come off just yet, and you can respect that.

The time it takes for Harry to duck his head beneath your dress, tongue flicking against your overly sensitive folds, seems like fucking years even if it’s hardly a second, but when he does your hips instinctively jerk forward into his mouth. His eyes are flashing when he looks up at you and you breathe out a stream of apologies, heart thumping in your chest, fingernails digging into the comforter beneath you. “Don’ move,” he directs, and you nod again and again and you don’t stop until his lips close in around your clit.

Your head drops back with a low moan as Harry’s teeth graze your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the sensitive nub like it’s what he was born to do. The bottom of your dress covers the top of his head so you can’t see what he’s doing - you have no idea what his next move is and it makes the pleasure rolling through your body that much better.

“Fuck - fuck, Har -” the only two words you can think to moan roll off your tongue like a mantra, your back arching upwards despite his warning not to move but he doesn’t mention it - just drags one hand up, fingertips light and dancing on your thighs until he can splay his forearm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the bed. Your hand moves from digging into the sheets to digging into his scalp, tugging at the loose strands of hair that smell ever so slightly of gel and it makes your heart swell to imagine him putting product in his hair for the elopement - but before you have time to dwell on the sweetness of the sentiment, that talented tongue is licking a thin stripe up your folds before flicking your clit and you’re brought back to reality. “Fuck.”

“Feel good?” Harry mumbles, muffled where his face is pressed firm to your pussy and the vibrations of his words reverberate against your clit, sending a chill up your spine, and you let out a low whine at the sensation. 

“Yes,” you breathe in return, tugging at his hair just a bit, the strands forming a makeshift ponytail like he’d done to you before. “Feels so good, Harry, god -”

His head pulls back just a bit, hem of your dress dropping to just the tip of his nose so you can see his eyes - smug and glinting and you’re sure that, if you could see his mouth, those lips would be upturned into a smirk and practically dripping with your arousal - but he goes back in just as soon as he’d pulled out, burying his face in the apex of your thighs and you collapse back against the bed with a shout.

Whatever order he’d given you to maintain eye contact disappears. It isn’t as though you can see his eyes anyway, and you couldn’t stop yours from rolling back into your head if you tried. Ecstasy rolls through your body and, God, you know you’re close already, thighs tensing under where Harry’s palm kneads the soft skin, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll see bruises tomorrow. Your cunt clenches and flutters around the emptiness you’re yearning to get rid of and your back arches up again, Harry’s restraint on your torso not enough to stop it now, and you’re so fucking close.

“Harry -” you moan, digging your fingernails into Harry’s scalp and relishing in his responding moan to your clit - “gonna cum, Har -”

He doesn’t say anything - but you can feel his tongue continuing its work, up and down your folds and circling your clit and that’s response enough. Your hips jerk into his face, back arching as you grasp his hair tight enough that it has to fucking hurt but then you’re cumming and -

“Oh, fuck!”

Your voice is high pitched, cracked with a desperate sob right in the middle of your words before you’re holding Harry’s head to your pussy, his tongue working your clit like he was born for it, his low moans muffled against you. The hand previously holding down your torso slides up your body until he can shove his hand into the top of your dress, tugging it down so your chest is. He plucks at your nipple before grasping your tit, full in his palm, and the added stimulation prolongs your orgasm, hips rolling against Harry’s working mouth.

You can’t see straight when Harry pulls his head out from the bottom of your chest but when your vision focuses you’re beyond thankful. His chin is glistening with your arousal, tongue poking out to lap at the moisture on his lips and he dons that shit-eating grin you’ve grown to know so well. You usually see it when he wins a board game or when you’re celebrating something - seeing it on his face after he’s finished giving you the best orgasm you’ve ever gotten is certainly different but not unwelcome by anyone’s standards.

There’s a second where all you do is lie back and catch your breath - staring up at the ceiling above you, chest heaving as the aftershocks race through your body. Harry, meanwhile, pushes himself to his feet, muttering a small groan about God, m’fuckin knees and gettin’ too old for this, aren’t I?

Lazily you hold your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers, and he reaches out to interlock your fingers again. “How was that?” he questions, voice soft and almost insecure and it’s a sharp contrast from the dominance he held before, but you know it’ll come back.

“I think you’re a natural at that, Mr. Styles,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you pull him closer to you until his knees hit the bed and he’s forced to collapse on top of you, grin cracking onto his face. “Gonna undress me?”

“‘Course,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to place a brief kiss to your lips, but before you can lift your head to deepen it he’s rolling off of you, shifting onto his side and shuffling upwards so his head rests on the stack of pillows. You raise your eyebrows at him - it isn’t as though he can take your dress off from that position - but, as though he can read your mind, he raises his hand and pats his lower stomach pointedly. “Climb up, babe.”

For what seems like the millionth time today, you can feel heat pulsing in your cheeks but you hope it doesn’t show - just sit up, swing your legs around so you’re straddling Harry, hands on his chest and gazing down at him like the God he seems to be. His hair is splayed out on the pillows beneath him, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and you can’t help yourself - lean down to land your lips to his again, and this time both of you allow it to deepen. His hand starts at your cheek like it had before but you reach for it, fingers wrapping around his wrist and maneuvering it downwards until his palm is wrapped around the column of your throat, and he squeezes once experimentally.

You moan softly, hips rolling against the pointed bulge in his dress pants, and Harry’s eyebrows raise. “No fuckin’ way,” he breathes, squeezing again just to hear the way your breath catches. “Gonna be th’fuckin’ death f’me.”

You’re fine with that, and you reckon he is too.

You reach behind you, tapping along your back until you can reach the zipper. You’ve only tugged it down an inch or two before Harry’s free hand replaces yours, dragging the zipper down as far as it can go before reaching for the bottom of the dress. It’s gone in an instant - tossed off the edge of the bed, to be worried about later - and you can feel his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra before it comes undone, and then you’re naked.

You’d expected yourself to feel more embarrassed, or perhaps just nervous, and maybe it’s the effects of your previous orgasm but you’re feeling surprisingly calm - or maybe it’s how Harry looks up at you like you’re some sort of goddess sent from above, as though he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

It does wonders for your self esteem, truthfully.

“Gonna undress me, then?” Harry questions, hands smoothing up and down your thighs, eyes drinking in every bit of your exposed body on top of him.

You hum softly, pinching at the soft material of his shirt. “I don’t think so - want you to fuck me in your fancy clothes.”

“Well, if I’d known tha’ was an option -”

“Do you want me to put the dress back on?”

“No!”

You grin down at him before rolling your hips over his again, and it’s the last thing you manage to do before his grip lands on your hips and he’s flipping you over - your head lands dangerously close to hitting the headboard but it’s worth it, seeing him above you, fully clothed, pupils lust-blown and wide.

It hardly takes a second for Harry to undo the button to his pants and the sound of the zipper being undone is like music to your fucking ears - you spread your legs, letting him slot his body between them and oh, you can feel the tip of his fucking cock it’s right there and -

The first movement, Harry pushing himself inside of you, has you throwing your head back against the pillow, the moan coming from your throat mixing with a cry. He’s big - certainly bigger than you’d ever expected and bigger than any guy you’d been with - feels like he could split you in half if he wanted to but he stops, hands smoothing up and down your body, and you make a point of reaching for his hand and interlocking your fingers.

You’ll never grow tired of holding his hand, you think. Not for a while, anyway.

“How’re you doin’?” he questions, voice strained, and when your eyes shift back to him you can see the droplets of sweat beaded on his face. “Jus’ - jus’ tell me when, alright?”

“When,” you breathe almost immediately. You hadn’t needed too much time to adjust but you need him to move - you’re so pent up and you know it won’t take long to take you to your second orgasm but, God, he needs to fucking move. “Please, Har - please, fuck me.”

It doesn’t seem he needed much more encouragement than that. With one final move of wrapping his free hand firm around your neck and giving another small squeeze, Harry pulls out agonizingly slowly until just the tip of his cock remains in your heat. Just as you open your mouth to beg him to move again he slams back in with a force you hadn’t anticipated, your body rocking backwards of its own accord with the weight behind the thrust.

It’s exactly what you’d needed, though - fast and rough and his hand, cutting off your airflow just a bit, just enough to have you quivering beneath him. The low groan that rips out of his throat, reverberating through the humid bedroom has you pushing your hips up to his, trying to deepen where he’s buried inside of you to the hilt but you’re not sure how much deeper he could get. Feels like he could split you in half with every desperate thrust, every rut of his hips into yours and yours back into his.

“Oh - god - m’fuckin’ good girl, so tight around m’cock -”

Another rush of arousal gushes straight to your core with his filthy words and your head falls back into the pillow with a high whine, nails digging into the back of his hand as his other one tightens grip around your neck. It makes every desperate moan and cry that much airier and you can tell Harry likes it, staring down at you as his hips pound yours with absolutely no mercy and you don’t want any, anyway. It’s the subject of every single fantasy you’ve ever had about him, rough and hard and the sound of skin slapping skin overpowering your needy noises.

You’d never dreamt it would feel so good.

“Oh god, Harry!” Your eyes are rolling back into your head as your free hand trails down your stomach, shaking fingers focusing on your ignored clit and beginning tight circles around the nub. The jolts of pleasure that run through your body are - god, fucking amazing and you know you’re close, hardly need anything else to tip you over the edge. “Gonna - gonna cum, Har -”

It’s a testament to, perhaps, the long-growing tension between the two of you that his head drops backwards with a cry of me, too in a tone that’s so desperately vulnerable and it’s exactly what you’d needed - the reminder, in the midst of the rough thrusts and desperate moans, that this isn’t a one time thing. If you both allow it, it’s the rest of your life, just like this - and, God, you’ll allow it.

Your cunt clenches around your cock as you cum, eyes rolling back into your head and body spasming beneath him. In the midst of it Harry pulls out and you don’t get a second to question the sudden emptiness before you feel a familiar warmth hitting your lower stomach, and you open your eyes in time to see your husband, hand working at his cock as ribbons of cum spurt onto your stomach.

(You think you could cum again just from the sight but - well, you’ll hold back.)

His breathing is choppy and desperate, broken occasionally by a needy moan until he’s finished and he collapses on his back beside you, hands still intertwined with no intention of letting go. Nothing needs to be said - not yet - not for a little while, where you’ll talk about it more. 

A little while ends up merely being a minute or two before Harry swings his legs over the edge of the bed, hand still clasped in yours, and makes to stand up - it’s only your tightening grasp on his hand that forces him to stop, glancing behind him to look at you.

“Don’t,” you plead, throat already feeling sore and voice raspy. “Just - another minute, alright? Then clean up.”

He hums softly but you know he won’t resist the prospect of just a brief cuddle - one of the few things you hadn’t done often when you were just friends, because you knew that, if Harry held you as close to him as he is now, lips pressed to your forehead, you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him how you felt about him.

Doesn’t matter now, though. And his arms feel so warm around you, clammy palm still pressed to yours like a fucking couple in middle school but you wouldn’t dream of letting go. It’s all so - so peaceful, lying with him and listening to his heartbeat as you rest your head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat thumping as fast and hard as yours is.

And - well. Barely a month ago you were convinced your Aunt Alice was the worst woman in the world - a hypocrite and an asshole, set out to taunt you by lording your dream home over you and snatching it away when you couldn’t find a husband in time. But now? Feeling Harry, landing soft kisses again and again to your forehead, you figure she’s not so bad, after all.

[xxxavo]

Sin getting upset bc he see’s Kouen flirting with his s/o (I mean they both already don’t like each other).So sins getting all alpha dog and is trying to get him to bck off

Requested by: anonymous

Warnings: A hint of verbal NSFW towards the end? (better known as...LIMEy) Not swear words but a few rude words? Idk

Suddenly getting back into Magi so might be a few imagines being thrown around here and there, depends on how long this lasts!! Feeling a NSFW scenario manifesting itself into my drafts after writing this, I won't lie, but no actual NSFW content today my little imuchakk's! Hope you enjoy!

Sinbad had always liked banquets, weather they be ones held in the kingdom of Sindria, or at his biggest rivals, the Kou empire. There was something exciting about the prospect of consuming alcohol in foreign lands after an important political meeting that made Sinbad feel on top of the world. It was rare for things in Sinbad’s life not to go his way, or to not end up leading towards something better then what he had lost. For this reason, King Sinbad was to an extent, a go-with-the-flow kind of man. Especially with loyal followers such as his generals and his beloved wife!

His beloved was of course very loyal, incredibly so...but, there were people who did not care for that loyalty of hers. This included a certain Kou empire red head who went by the name of Kouen.

“No need to look so sour, Sin.” Ja’far commented beside him, though he was enjoying the fact his King was abandoning his poor drinking habits to instead stay sober and focused, even if he was focusing on his wife and Kouen Ren flirting. “You told her to be pleasant and friendly towards Kouen to gain his favour. I don’t understand why you’re so jealous.” That was enough to make Sinbads eyes flicker from the generous laughter of his wife to the smug face of his right hand man.

“Me!? Jealous!?”

“Hmm.” Masrur agreed from the other side of Sinbad. The King’s neck practically snapped to the fanalis.

“Why would I, of all people, be jealous?”

“Because you’re wife is a smart, sophisticated lady who could do a lot better than a man who drinks sake and shamelessly prances around woman as if he was a young teen in his glory years.” Golden eyes met red ones in a baffled expression of offense.

“That’s a low blow, Ja’far.”

“Hmm.” Again, Masrur voiced his opinion rather humbly. Unlike the other two, Masrur had not taken his eyes away from the Queen, curious to see how her little game would play out; He loved how cunning she was.

The Queen, unlike Sinbad, was sensible. When he was busy hiding from Ja’far she was busy doing the work for him and cleaning up all his messes. Masrur liked how through thick and thin she stayed by Sinbad’s side whilst being the role model his country needed. She may as well have been a general. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t find herself sick of him sometimes.

Unfortunately old habits died hard. Sinbad was an infamous lady killer, flirting and charming any woman he deemed beautiful. No longer did he take it any further but Masrur could always see it in the Queen’s eyes whenever she got upset or jealous with his ministrations. As much as she tried to hide it, Masrur was a man who saw much, yet said very little.

The fanalis saw the way the cogs in her head turned the moment Sinbad had told her to “Gain Kouen’s favour in any way you can! I’m sure he’ll be much more linient with me if he enjoys the company of my other half” and the way she made sure her corset was on tighter and her breasts were pushed up higher only confirmed his supicions. Sinbad was about to get a very bitter taste of his own flirtatious medicine.

The Queen was, despite being middle aged, very beautiful. If she wasn’t married to King Sinbad, Masrur was certain many men would be throwing themselves at her feet. Kouen would possibly be one of those.

The next thing Masrur knew a grumpy Sinbad was pulling on his cheek, his gaze in the same direction as his. “What is it Masrur? What are they saying!? Surely you will stick by your King! Unlike this traitor—“

“Tsk.”

“Please Masrur. My wife could be in danger.” Sinbad dramatized. Masrur practically had to stop himself from commenting on how pathetic the King looked. “I need those fanalis ears of yours...”

“Fine.”

“Did you know, you’re my favourite?”

“I swear to Solomon Sinbad if you—“

Drowning out the advisor and the King, Masrur honed his attention on the Queen and Kouen who sat sharing a bottle of red wine.

“Oh no. No more for me please.” Just as Kouen was about to tip some more of the red liquor in her glass, the Queen politely bowed her head, fluttering her lashes. “My tolerance for alcohol isn’t the greatest thing in the world.”

“Oh?.” Kouen hummed, nodding in response before filling up his own. “I expected you to perhaps be a little more like you’re husband.”

“An old drunkard?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But is it not what you meant?”

“I—“ Kouen seemed at a loss for words for a second, perhaps embarrassed, but saved himself rather quickly without a hint of emotion on his face. “What I meant was, a lover of a banquet. Sinbad has attended many, I assumed you would have been more on par with him when it came to drinking and party games.”

The Queen watched Kouen take a sip of his wine, her lips pulling up into a soft smirk. “Something tells me Kouen if I was anything like my husband you wouldn’t want to be sat here with me.” Kouen was slow to place down his drink, his sharp eyes meeting Sinbad’s wife’s.

“Would you rather me sit elsewhere?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But is it not what you meant?” Now, it was his turn to smirk.

“I—“ With a soft laugh, the regal woman before Kouen grew flustered, picking up her glass and swirling the remaining wine contents around to allow her to look elsewhere. “You really are as they say Kouen. Quite an interesting man. I enjoy getting to know you.” Lifting up her head, the Queen rose an eyebrow, a smile now residing on her face. “Every word I say sinks in doesn’t it?”

“Your highness. If any man does not listen to you, does he really deserve to be in your presence? If my sisters were simply cast aside, I wouldn’t be so forgiving to the suitor who was to do that.” It was a lie, the Queen had heard of Kouen and his family sending off the young princess to he married to a King who wanted nothing more then a pretty face. Was there more to the story? Most likely. But was that the gist of it? Yes. However, to indulge both Kouen and continue to gain the nervous attention of her husband shuffling in his seat, the Queen sighed out gently.

“You’re close to your family...?” It was hard to hear the rest, Sinbad practically chewing off his own hand right beside Masrurs ear.

“What are they saying!?” Simply, Masrur shrugged. “Something about family.” It was no fun telling Sinbad everything. Groaning, Sinbad flopped back into his seat, picking up his wine with a pout.

“It doesn’t taste the same knowing at the end of the night she’s not going to be dragging me back to our room...”

“Who? Her highness?” The three men all turned abruptly to face Kogyoku, who smiled sheepishly. “I’m awfully sorry...” she stuttered out. “I didn’t mean to pry, I just came to say hello and over heard you talking."

Knowing that any ill intentions towards Kougyoku’s older brother would harm his reputation with the Kou empire, Sinbad put on his best charming smile, acting as though he wasn’t emotionally conflicted on the inside. “Ah Princess. What a pleasure to be seeing you again. Are you enjoying the banquet?” With a smile, the pinkette nodded her head.

“I am very much your highness. I hope you’re also enjoying yourself.” With that, her eyes flickered upwards to the Queen of Sindrian and the most influential man in the whole of the Kou empire. “It seems her highness is enjoying herself to. I’ve never seen Kouen so invested in somebody. It’s a real testimony to your wife.” Kougyoku was of course NOT JEALOUS. Not once had she imagined herself sat on Sinbad's lap as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear! Nether the less, she continued her façade, knowing that after all it was her duty.

”They’re so deep in conversation, I wonder what they’re talking about.” Her words aren’t helping the purple male.

“As do I...”

“Kouen seems so relaxed around her highness. They really do get along don’t they?” Was she trying to give him a heart attack?

With a delightful laugh Sinbad nodded before finally rising to his feet. "They do indeed. In fact I feel a little bit left out. Perhaps I should pau the two a visit. Excuse me Princess, I do hope of seeing you again soon." Lifting her hand to his lips, Sinbad placed a soft kiss to the back of her hand before walking towards his wife and that thing trying to take her away. The King of Sindria looked at peace with all around him as he strode over, all intentions of causing havoc and disrupting the calm atmosphere completely gone for his being. At least it looked that way. If it didn't, he wouldn't have been a good King.

The two at the table saw him coming before he arrived and where as Kouen greeted him with a cut nod, seemingly displeased he was interrupting his time with his wife, who simply sent him a passive smile.

"Ah Your highness." Not Sin, not Sinbad, not my King, not my love. Just your highness. "Me and Kouen here--" Yet they were on first name basis? "Were just discussing-- Hmmph!"

As done many times before by the womanizer, Sinbad encased the back of his wife's head, bringing her face towards his own and then slamming their lips together in a rather mighty display right in front of the red princes eyes. He made sure it lasted. And his Queen? Who was she to deny Sinbads advances? As usual she practically melted into his affectionate assault, fragile hands moving to clasp at Sinbad's robes in an attempt to lull him closer...but two could play at that game. Pulling back from his beloved, Sinbad made sure to smirk, staring into her eyes for a brief moment. It was his way of saying "I'll get you back for this".

The sexual tension was undeniable and Sinbad had hoped Kouen could sense her thighs rubbing together like he could, because that was the closest Kouen would get.

"Hm? Talking about what? I didn't quite catch that my Queen."

Meanwhile, back at Sinbad's table, Ja'far sighed in aggravation as he watched the scene Sinbad caused in absolute horror. "Honestly, this man really does test my patience! Can he not just let his wife butter up Kouen! If anything it benefits us!"

"Hmm."

"Just for one second, can he think about anything else other then his-"

"Dick?"

"I was going to say pride but that works too."

[opheliadawnwalker3]

The Watching

Author’s Note: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s fic swap. I picked @sherrybaby14​ :) Hope you like it hun and Merry Christmas!!

Synopsis: Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

Contains: strong sexual content, cunnilinguous, penetration, threesome, voyeurism, some audience participation, fluffy holiday cheer

Wacchinsrinn- Old Norse means “The Watching”

*****************************************************************************************

You stand in the elaborately decorated banquet hall, carefully nursing another full goblet of Asgard’s famous honeyed wine. Thor had left you alone, mere moments before, no doubt to personally welcome his people to the Yule celebration. In the corner, several Asgardian citizens play musical instruments and the rest are either drunkenly dancing, feasting on delicious foods or laughing uproariously. Eager faces are painted with intricate symbols and there is much joy and carefree energy in the air. Normally, you’re not such a wall flower, but being surrounded by Thor’s fiercely lively people is a whole new experience for you. You had already witnessed the burning of the wooden Yule wreath earlier and had cheered with the others when it was sent hurtling down the hill and fell among the stars. In the corner of the vast hall stands the Yule tree, decorated not with the colored glass balls you were accustomed to, but small statues of previous kings and mythical creatures. After seeing the God of Thunder for over a year, you were overjoyed to hear him say that he wanted to finally bring you back to his world. His kingdom. 

It happened to be close to Christmas, but other than the typical mandatory bland office party and receiving a few Christmas cards, you really had no other plans. Why on Earth would you ever pass that up? The chance to not only see the place he grew up in, but to be among his people and culture. His friends and-

“Well, well...don’t we look fetching this evening?” A sly familiar voice utters behind you, erupting a subtle heat across the back of your neck. Turning, you see Loki, sharply donned with tailored green silks and a gray pelt clasped around his shoulders. Instead of his usual absurdly large golden horns, a delicate golden crown balances at his temple. 

You raise your goblet to him. “You clean up rather nicely yourself.”

Loki tilts his head, keen emerald eyes slowly trailing down your body and you could almost swear he could see right through the crimson silk of your gown. His lips curl into a devious smile and your heart flutters against your will. “Do enjoy the festivities...mind the honeyed wines. They are much stronger than the tepid liquors served on Midgard.”

You roll your eyes as you defiantly take another sip. You would be lying if you said, you weren’t already feeling buzzed. The warmth that spreads across your cheeks, that familiar light headed feeling. You would have to pace yourself. You can’t make a fool out of yourself at your first Asgardian Yuletide. And you were here with Thor for God’s sake. You didn’t want to humiliate him or yourself.

A loud clang sounds near you and your attention is momentarily drawn to Volstagg, one of Thor’s infamous Warrior’s Three, laughing boisterously as he picks up his dropped axe. No doubt, in the middle of a drunken retelling of old battle stories. 

Lips brush the shell of your ear and you automatically tense up. Your breath hitches as slender fingers ghost over your bare shoulders.

“I look forward, to seeing much more of you later.” Loki purrs huskily into your ear and you are rooted to the spot. His alluring voice holds dark promises. Your brows furrow in confusion and before you are able to ask just what he means by that, Thor’s voice cuts across the room. You look over to see him cross the room with jovial presence. His bright blue eyes crinkle with happiness at the sight of you.

Loki withdraws from you completely and you let out a sigh of relief. The wine...it must have been the wine. You would have to drink water to spread it out.

Seemingly unbothered at Loki’s closeness, Thor smiles warmly as he slips his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You sigh, relishing the comforting feeling of his lips and presence as you pull him in closer. For the past year, Thor had been a beacon of light in your boring, mundane life. He would entertain you for hours with tales of his childhood, battles and stories about his time with the Avengers. He made you feel exciting just by being in his presence. Feel incredibly safe just by being in his strong embrace. He never left you wanting whether physically, mentally or emotionally. You only hoped you did the same for him. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Thor’s deep voice rumbles against your mouth.

“I am. I just wish we could-”

“Ah there’s the lovely couple. Starting Wacchinsrinn a bit early are we not?” You recognize Fandral’s charming voice sounding next to you. You pull back from Thor slightly with a raised brow.

“Wacchinsrinn? What’s that?”

Before the smaller roguish blonde can answer you, Thor laughs and quickly begins to lead you away from the two men. Confused, you look back to see Fandral and Loki exchange knowing smiles.

“What on earth was that about?” You ask, setting your now empty goblet down on one of the long wooden tables. Funny, you hadn’t even remembered drinking it all.

“Just Fandral with one of his jokes. Pay the scoundrel no mind,” Thor replies playfully before spinning you around wildly among the other dancing patrons. You wish to press him further but a mixture of the otherworldly alcohol and contagious euphoria around you, causes your curiosity to melt away and you gather your skirts to join the dance. 

**********************************************************************************

About an hour later, Thor leads you down the hall by the hand. You stumble a bit and giggle with tipsy merriment as he turns the corner to open a pair of grand ornate doors. You tilt your head in confusion as you take in the lavish yet unfamiliar chambers within.

“Hey this isn’t the same room, you showed me earlier. This isn’t yours, right?”

“You’re right, Y/N. This is our room.”

“Ooo our room you say?” You tease as you take in your surroundings, Thor walking in behind you to shut the doors. Inside the chamber was a large king sized bed with a full canopy and intricately carved designs in the wood. The sheets were golden and there was a table set with trays of cheese and fruits and silver pitchers no doubt filled with mead and wine. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. You look back at Thor whose looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite decifer. 

“What’s with all the chairs pointed facing the bed? Kind of an unusual arrangement, isn’t it?”

“It’s for...Wacchinsrinn.”

“There’s that word again. What is it?”

Before Thor can respond, there is a low chuckle and suddenly Loki appears next to you.

“Oh dear, you haven’t told her. How irresponsible and devious of you, brother.”

“Hush, Loki.” Thor looks down at you and brings a massive hand to cup your face. “Please forgive me, Y/N. I didn’t want you to worry or feel pressured to do anything.”

“Although it is an Asgardian tradition. I don’t believe Y/N wants to be the cause of the King’s refusal to uphold a tradition maintained for thousands of years.”

“Not the time, Loki...”

“I disagree. I think it’s the perfect time...”

“No he’s right. I’m not going to stand in the way of you upholding your kingly duties. Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you.” You encourage, placing a hand on Thor’s arm.

“How touching, but your amorous participation is very much required.” Loki interjects with a dangerous smirk and Thor sighs, clearly conflicted. You look back and forth between the pair.

“My what participation?”

Before Loki could reply, Thor raises his hand in front of him.

“Loki, leave us.”

“Oh, I think not. This is all rather entertaining for me.”

“Leave now.” Thor’s tone is tense and clipped and you can’t help feeling a little nervous. What is going on? Why all the secrecy? And what exactly is expected of you?

“So tense, brother. Perhaps you should have her tend to you first and help get those bothersome...kinks out.”

Thor says, nothing, merely glares at Loki, before the latter sighs in reluctant surrender.

“Very well, I suppose I could check on the rest of the rabble and see if they are ready to bear witness.” And with that, Loki disappears, leaving you and Thor alone once more. You look up at the god and cross your arms.

“Thor just tell me. What’s the tradition?” Your eyes widen briefly when you think back to all of the those Viking and Pagan shows you watched in mild preparation for the Yule celebration.

“I won’t have to do an animal sacrifice will I?”

Thor smiles and shakes his head as he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “No animal sacrifices will be required of you, I promise.”

“Okay...then what is expected of me?”

Thor pauses for a moment in quiet contemplation, gathering his thoughts before he eventually sighs. “On Asgard, the act of coupling is a merry and happy occasion. Asgardians do not view such an act with such...modesty as on Midgard.”

You nod, following along and very curious as to where this is going.

“And so...the notion of sharing such a joyous act with others...is considered...a generous gift.”

You eyes widen slightly as the realization begins to wash over you. “And when you say sharing...you mean...??”

Thor gives you an embarrassed smile. “Those closest to us shall bear witness to our union.”

“So...your companions are just going to watch us?”

“If that is agreeable to you. It is not uncommon for them to join in should all participating consent.”

You chew on your bottom lip and cross your arms. “So that’s what everyone has been referring to all night.”

“Yes.”

You contemplate for a few moments more, weighing your options in your head. You should be appalled that your boyfriend just sprang this on you, royalty or not. But you just can’t find yourself to be angry. On the contrary...the idea is intriguing. You’d always been fascinated by the thought of voyeurism. Whether watching someone else or being watched yourself. But you’d never had the courage to explore it. There was even once an incident where Hawkeye accidentally walked into the room while you were riding Thor at Avengers Tower. Instead of being embarrassed...you only clenched tighter around Thor’s cock. Even felt a pang of disappointment when Hawkeye quickly left the room with amused apologies. Maybe this was your chance to finally explore one of your fantasies.

You finally look back up at Thor, his handsome face etched with worry and concern.

“Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to do this. For you, but mostly for me,” You admit, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. You see a flash of green in the corner of your eye and Loki appears next to you, holding two goblets full of wine. He gives you an impish smirk as he holds one out to you.

“How about a little more wine to take the edge off. Perhaps numb your defenses a bit,” Loki drawled as you eagerly accept the wine. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Thor watches you carefully as you take several large pulls of the sweet wine, embracing the numbing warmth that pools down your body.

“Are you sure about this ,Y/N?” Thor asks softly, his usual booming voice now quiet with uncertainty. 

You set your now empty goblet on the table next to you and give him a confident smile. Sure, you felt emboldened by the wine, but you also felt very eager for what lays ahead Thor reaches up to cup your jaw with both hands, his bright blue eyes melting any doubts you might have had.

“Because if you’re not, then damn the traditions. I will never ask you to do anything you’re not ready for. We can leave now, go back to Midgard and celebrate your traditional Christmas.”

You feel your heart swell with appreciation and adoration and you turn your head slightly to kiss his fingers. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I will. You mean more to me that anything.”

“Then I want to do this. I’m happy to do it.”

Thor leans down to press his lips to yours once more in a sweet gentle kiss to which you eagerly reciprocate. Next to you, Loki chuckles as he takes a sip from his goblet.

“Not to break up this touching little moment, but the others are getting restless.”

Thor reluctantly pulls away, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Then we shall not keep them waiting.”

 The potent alcohol flows within you, but something else pools within. Excitement and pure unadulterated desire. Loki chuckles and you feel his hands on your hips as he presses in close behind you. Surprised, you look up to Thor for guidance, but he merely stares at the pair of you with a calm unbothered expression.

“And will you allow any of the witnesses to enjoy her as well?” Loki insinuates, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I myself, am curious if she tastes as good as she looks.” Your breath hitches and your heart begins to pound harder at his carnal implications. 

Thor smirks and gestures down to you. “That is entirely up to you. If you desire another, then it shall be done.”

You let out a soft gasp, completely taken aback by this turn of events. But certainly not upset at the prospect. You would be lying to yourself if you never thought about how alluringly charming and attractive Loki is. So very different from your Thor, yet enticing all the same. When will you get another opportunity like this? 

“Yes...I...I want you both.”

“Very well, then let them all in and we’ll begin the Wacchinsrinn.”

Loki presses a brief kiss to your neck, before gracefully leaving the room. You feel your nerves beginning to flutter in your gut, battling against your arousal and the tension in the air from the possibilities.

Thor steps up to you and carefully traces his hand down your front. Your nipples harden through the thin silk and you lick your lips. 

“Who...who will be watching us?”

“The Warriors Three, Lady Sif, Loki and Heimdall will watch from the Rainbow Bridge since he cannot personally attend. But do not be nervous. You are perfection. This is a gift not only for my companions but us as well.”

You take a deep breath, heartbeat speeding up when you hear approaching footsteps and the large ornate doors open.

Fandral walks in first, his eyes drinking you in. “Ahh lovely, Y/N...you look ready for your first Wacchinsrinn. Tell me, has Thor prepared you properly? Because if not, I offer you my services. I’m told I’m quite talented in such matters.”

“Oh do settle down, Fandral. She has already chosen me to help...alleviate the tension. Do enjoy your seat, though.” Loki retorts playfully as he unclasps the fur from around his shoulders. 

Fandral winks at you as he gracefully drops in his seat. “Well I suppose that silver tongue has its uses after all.” 

The combination of alcohol, nerves, and your excitement for things to come, make your skin tingle with anticipation.

Lady Sif follows close behind, dressed elegantly in a fitted gown of midnight blue. Her usually tied up long hair, hangs down her back in loose curls. She takes her place in the middle seat and crosses her legs expectantly as she gives you a small encouraging smile. She gives a side eye to Volstagg, who decided to bring a large turkey leg to the ceremony, as he sits next to her.

“Honestly...must you eat even while we bear witness?”

Volstagg lets out a good humored laugh as he takes a bite of the roasted meat. “What is the point of enjoying such stimulating entertainment without filling my gullet? No point in doing things half way, I say.”

Hogun silently joins the group and crosses his arms, his stoic face betraying nothing. Thor stands tall and acknowledges all who are present.

“Now that we are all here, its time to begin. We thank those closest to us in sharing this moment. May this gift offer you many blessings and good omens on and off the battlefield.” 

“And what a gift it is,” Exclaims Fandral, holding up his own pint of mead.

“Hear, hear!” Volstagg agrees excitedly. Sif and Hogun remain silent, but their subtle expressions hold a keen interest.

The Warriors cheer and you can’t help but smile at the almost absurd nature of it all. 

“My desired and I shall drink from the cup and then proceed with Wacchinsrinn,” Thor exclaims as he holds out another goblet will only half full. The both of you drink from it and Loki takes the empty goblet away. Thor wastes no time undressing with unwavering confidence and leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“It is time to be worshipped, like the goddess you are,” Thor purrs in a husky voice against your lips as his hands trail down your waist. His pretty words and deep tone makes your thighs clench together as your pussy throbs.

You feel Loki press in close behind you and he carefully pushes your hair off your neck. Their closeness is intoxicating. “But first you must bare yourself to us,” Loki whispers lowly in your ear as dexterous fingers make swift work of the clasps on your shoulders. The top slips down revealing your breasts and you gasp when Thor’s hands begin caressing with eager, calloused hands. Loki grips your hips as his mouth traces a tantalizing path up your neck.

Your fingers tangle in Thor’s blonde locks when he lowers himself to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth. His mouth is hot and he licks and nibbles your breasts. You’re suddenly feeling very flushed, your skin scorching under their ministrations. 

You feel Loki’s teeth against your throat and he chuckles into your ear. “You should think yourself fortunate. Our great grandfather would often bend his women over the table in the banquet hall during Wacchinsrinn. For all of Asgard to see. This way is far more...intimate.” With that he grabs your chin and kisses you greedily.

After a few moments, the two men lead you to the bed. Thor sits down first and pulls you back between his spread legs. His cock full and hard against your back. His kisses you once more and you feel his hands slide up your thighs, taking the crimson silk of your skirts with it. You lean back against his thick muscled body and stare up at Loki, who remains at the foot of the bed fixed with an expectant sneer.

“Would you like Loki to taste you? Allow him to thoroughly ready your body for me?” Thor questions as his fingers reach your eager cunt beneath the silk. You moan, your hips raising slightly to feel every caress of his fingers. He chuckles arrogantly and you hear the lewd sounds of his fingers easily slipping inside you.

“Well...it seems she’s already quite ready. We may not need your services after all, Loki,” Thor exclaims playfully, displaying his fingertips already soaked in your arousal.

“That may be brother, though I should like to hear it from her lips that she does not desire my mouth on her delectable quim.” Loki replies as he slowly pulls the green tunic over his head with smug ease, revealing his pale yet toned upper body. Both men know you’re not saying no at this point. In fact, no, is the farthest thing from your mind.

You give him a mischievous grin as you beckon him with just the crook of your finger and Loki obliges, crawling up between your spread thighs with a dangerous smile. He looks as though he may just devour you whole. 

When his mouth meets your cunt, you immediately relax back against Thor, enjoying every sensation as Loki unravels you. His tongue glides along your slit with expert ease, rolling and flicking over your throbbing clit. Thor’s beard tickles your bare shoulder as he nips the skin and caresses your breasts. You felt trapped between the two brothers in the most heavenly way.

“How does she taste, Loki?” You hear Volstagg call out and your eyes snap open. You had almost forgotten you were being watched. You bite back a whine when Loki raises up slightly, your cunt already missing his mouth.

“Better than the finest of delicacies on Asgard. She truly is a delicious well of vanilla and honey.” Loki brags and your breath hitches when his lips immediately return to you, wrapping around your clit and gently sucking.

“I knew it. Pay up Fandral,” you hear Volstagg boast and Fandral sighs as he drops a few coins in his companions outstretched hand.

Beneath you, Thor undulates his hips into you and your cunt clenches tightly, wanting to be filled. 

“I can feel Heimdall’s ever watchful eyes upon us. He is thoroughly enjoying the sights as well. He wonders if you would like my cock deep inside you with my brother’s mouth still upon you.” Thor whispers softly into your ear as he pinches a nipple.

Between Loki’s adept mouth and Thor’s touches and carnal words, you can barely form words of your own. But you manage just the same.

“God yes. Please, Thor...” You mewl pathetically as your thighs twitch around Loki’s shoulders. His fingers massage and squeeze your spread thighs.

With that, Thor raises your hips and lines your soaked entrance with his tip. Loki raises his head slightly to follow your cunt. His piercing green eyes staring up hungrily at you. Being worshipped by these men...feeling several pairs of eyes on you at once...its all very intoxicating.

“Lower yourself upon me. Let me feel you clench desperately around me.” Thor commands softly against your temple, his hands gripping your hips and holding you above him. You nod eagerly and you sink down onto him completely. Your pussy is dripping and more than ready, yet Thor’s thick shaft still stretches you slightly and the pair of you moan loudly. Loki chuckles against your flesh, sending vibrations over your clit and making your cunt tighten around Thor.

“By the gods...your grip is always so exceptional. I could just feel you squeeze me all day, though I’d be fighting the urge to drive into you with everything I have.”

“Move her skirts. We would like to see too,” Lady Sif commands from her seat. You briefly raise your eyes to meet hers and her expression is heated and very much satisfied.

“As the lady commands,” Thor agrees as he rips the silk away, baring the rest of you to the room.

You mewl loudly as Loki begins to speed up his tongue, sucking at your clit a little harder. Your fingers reach up to tangle in his dark tresses as he brings your body closer and closer. Your hips roll atop Thor and you continue to mercilessly squeeze his cock sheathed inside you. That familiar icy hot numbing sensation spreads over you as your body climbs higher and higher towards the peak.

“She’s definitely close. Such a sweet thing, they’ve barely had to touch her,” Fandral observes smugly.

“True, but I still bet that she will last through the night.” Lady Sif replies with subtle arrogance.

“Ah, shall we bet on it then, Lady Sif?”

“You have nothing I want, Fandral.”

“How about if I polish your armor for a full moon?”

“What, and let you leave spots all over my-”

“Will you two stop your incessant blathering? She’s about to fall and I would like to enjoy it in its entirety,” Hogun finally quips in with a surprisingly gruff voice. 

You cry out as Loki’s mouth unravels you, causing your cunt to pulsate tightly around Thor. He grips you atop him as he hisses into your ear.

After a few more languid licks of your slit, Loki finally sits up from between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss. Your inner walls tighten around Thor yet again when you taste your own juices on Loki’s lips.

The room erupts in applause as the Warriors clap and cheer wholeheartedly.

“A good first round, I’d say!” Volstagg exclaimed as he slams his empty goblet upon the floor in celebration. 

“I agree. I think Y/N is fully warmed up now. We’re going to need much more wine and mead before we proceed forward.”

“And more bread!” Volstagg adds, tossing an empty turkey leg upon his plate.

“I wonder if Y/N, will allow Loki to continue to tend to her,” Lady Sif muses aloud.

At that, Loki finally pulls away from you, licking your bottom lip with an imperious smirk. “I will of course, perform as such, should she require it of me.”

Thor laughs, clamping a hand on Loki’s bare shoulder. “Well down, brother. But I should like you to sit this next one out for now. I wish to ravage her myself this time.”

“Such a bore...but I will concede for now.” Loki sighs snidely before lightly touching your jaw and leaving the bed. 

With Thor’s cock still buried inside you, you look up at him with an impish expression. “So, there’s more to Wacchinsrinn? We’re not finished yet?”

He brushes his lips against your temple as his hands tighten on your hips. “Oh no, my love. We go until you cannot go any longer. When you have had enough, then we will stop. But I know you and....I know you have several more hours in you.”

As he thrusts up into you again accompanied by the supportive cheers of his companians, you smile, truly feeling full filled for the first time in a long time.

From his post on the Rainbow Bridge, the ever watchful Heimdall smiles at the glorious sights before him.

Taglist: @sherrybaby14​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @lucifers-trash-stash​ @cherienymphe​ @imanuglywombat​ @threeminutesoflife​ @charmed-asylum​ @thefangirllife​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @searchforanotherway​ @sapphirescrolls​ @hurricanerin​ @cockslut-padalecki​ @different-type-of-hell​ @darkandinvitingfics​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @oneoftheprettynerds​

[seiyasabi]

The Scientist

(Hange (Hanji) can rearrange by guts tbh :P Lol, anyways, this is a Yandere Hanji x Female Reader story! It takes place in current time tho (same universe as Yelena). Also, idgaf how tall the creator says Hanji is. In this fic, even the tall girlies get to be shorter than Hanji. 

TW: kidnapping!, !drugging!, unwanted advances, stalking!, etc! 

Please proceed with caution! Also, I’m sorry if you can tell that this was in my drafts for a hot min. I started to write this when I first started this blog, and I just finished/revised it lol. ) 

“Hey, (Nickname!” Hearing the loud shout of a certain brunet, you jump about a foot in the air. As usual, Hanji decides to surprise you whilst you’re in the middle of something. 

Pulling away from the microscope you’re currently looking at, you put on a strained smile, “Yes?” 

Their one eye sparkles in a hopeful fashion from behind their glasses, one of her their fiddling with their eyepatch, “Sooo,” They draw out the o, seemingly trying to disarm you, “Are you free this weekend? There’s this suuuuper cool bar that’s just opening, and me and the others are thinking about going! It’s totally not a date or anything,” They pause to let out a loud laugh, “I think it’ll be fun! What D'ya say?” 

Forcing out a chuckle, you shake your head, “Ah, I’m sorry, Hanji, but I’m busy this weekend. I have a lot of samples I need to process for that upcoming court case,” You chew your bottom lip nervously, “I’m sorry. I hope you and the others have a good time, though!” 

A new voice is heard, butting into your conversation, “I can do those! I’ve been needing more hours, anyways,” Whipping your head in the direction of the voice, you silently curse. Fuck Armin for being so helpful! 

Hanji beams even brighter than before, clapping their hands together happily, “See! Armin can do that for you!” They lean in closer to you, their lab coat brushing against yours, “Come on, (Nickname), I’d be reaaaaally happy if you go!” 

An uneasy feeling pools in your gut, as an anxious sweat begins to bead at your brow, “I-uhm-I suppose I can go for an hour or two.”

“Great!” They grab your hands in theirs, squeezing them in a friendly manner, “The bar is called ‘Titan’s Wrath,’ and we’re meeting at eight on Saturday!” Releasing you, they pat you on the back, “See you later!” They run off, most likely back to the dry lab. 

After a moment of silence, you slowly turn towards the short haired blond man, “Armin, I’m going to kill you.”

He blanches at your blunt tone, flushing a bright red, “Wha-what?” 

You grit your teeth, tears starting to bead your eyes in frustration, “They’re the person I was telling you about! Hanji constantly harasses me, and you practically just tossed me into their arms! Why would you do that?” 

A look of pure terror and remorse appears of his face, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t realise that they were the person-oh my God, I’m so stupid. I-I really didn’t know! I’m so, so sorry!” You let out a quivering breath, hands clenched into fists to calm you down. 

“It-it’s alright. I never really told you who they were. Just never do that again, okay? If you need more hours, just tell me, and I’ll see what I can do,” The younger man sighs in relief, shoulders deflating. 

“I promise to never do that again!” You nod, blinking away your unshed tears, and smile at him. 

“Okay, then we don’t have any problems,” You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “Who would’ve thought our newest intern was the dry lab’s wing man?” He panics again, making you cackle good-naturedly, “Now, can you please grab the dilluter? I forgot to grab it from the fridge.”

-

Hanji, being the ever cheerful person that they are, set their sights on you the moment you were hired. 

But, if they came out with their feelings immediately, you’d just assume that they wanted to take advantage of you. 

So, they watched you. Writing down your likes and dislikes, your quirks, everything. Through their ‘research,’ they came to realise that you’re very good at your job. The wet-lab should be lucky that they have you… but they never give you the recognition you deserve! 

They bombard you with assignments, become upset when you don’t finish them in seconds (which is so unreasonable!), and hardly give you any time off! 

You don’t seem to mind, being the good girl you are, but Hanji sure does! 

So, they’d seek out the top graduates from the college nearby, and help them become employed at the lab. The newbies really helped get the load off of your shoulders, and once done, they decided to swoop in now that you had a decent amount of free time. 

It started at the vending machine- they’d asked you if you wanted to get coffee with them sometime. You said no, probably because you felt it wasn’t professional. After all, rumours would spread like wildfire if you went out with the lead lab tech of the dry lab! 

So, everytime they knew you had a weekend off, they’d approach you with new places to try. 

Be it a movie, a store, a concert- it didn’t matter. They just desperately wanted to have some time with you! 

But, you reacted the complete opposite of how you were supposed to. 

You’d pick up as many shifts as possible, most times going into over time, just to avoid the flamboyant lead. Whenever you saw them in the hall or by the break room, you’d turn in the complete opposite direction. If wet-lab needed to correspond with the dry-lab, you’d send your most qualified coworker to do so. 

It was saddening, to be honest. They love you so much, yet you refuse to even face them. 

But, thanks to that Armin kid, their plans can finally bloom into fruition. For once, you can’t escape the brunet’s advances! 

Because of that, Hanji made a note to the owner of the lab that Armin would make a good contribution to the lab after he gets all of his qualifications. 

-

Saturday night comes far too soon. 

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a cropped, white long sleeve, you stand in front of ‘Titans Wrath.’ Scoffing at how the bar sounds like a metal band, you make your way inside. 

Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open, immediately hearing loud rock music. Mentally patting yourself on the back for your observation, you step inside of the cool building. 

Looking inside, you see a large, double sided bar in the middle of the room, a stage and standing area just behind it. There are a few pool tables in the front area where you’re standing, along with double doors leading to a hidden kitchen. 

There’s also a lot of people inside. You can’t see Hanji or their friends, but seeing a band setting up on the stage tells you that they’re probably on the other side of the bar. 

Walking over to the steps leading down into the stage area, you try to ignore the leers of a few men around you. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn clothes that accentuate your beautiful figure. Peering around the corner, you see the scientist and their friends, an empty seat in between them and a large blond man, that you vaguely recall being the police chief of your city. 

Strolling towards them halfheartedly, you give yourself a small peptalk inside of your mind. Sure, Hanji has always been touchy-feely with you, sure, they’ve asked you out about one hundred times, sure, you run into them every time you leave the house, sure- 

“(Nickname)! You actually came!” The brunet’s voice is loud, loud enough to cut through the loud music and equally loud chatter. Forcing a smile onto your face, you give a small wave, suddenly uncomfortable with the line of strangers at the bar suddenly looking at you. 

“Yes, hello, Hanji,” When you’re close enough, you’re thrown into a tight embrace, their body practically molding into your own. They’re about a head taller than you, making it so your head is practically forced against their protruding collarbones. Hesitating slightly, you give them a soft pat on the back, trying to escape their suffocating embrace. 

“I’m so glad you came!” They release you just as suddenly as they grabbed you, putting a hand on the small of your back, and practically forcing you in between the blond man and themself, “(Nickname), this is Erwin. Erwin, this is (First Name).”

His blue eyes rake over your appearance, recognition appearing on his face, “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. (Last Name), especially under better circumstances.” 

You nod, thinking back on some high profile cases you met with him for, “Yes, it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.” 

A loud scoff is heard from beside Erwin, the head of a short, dark haired man peeks around the broad chested man, “It’s about time you brought a respectful brat,” You have to stop yourself from flinching at his harsh tone, “I am Levi,” Opening your mouth to introduce yourself, he holds up a hand, halting you, “There’s no need for introductions, Shitty-glasses has gushed about the ‘pretty wet-lab scientist’ for months now.” 

“Oh, alright. It’s nice to meet you,” His lifts his whiskey on rocks in acknowledgement, before downing it with one swig. 

“Likewise,” After that, he turns towards a light brown haired woman, her high pitched voice is heard from where you’re sitting. 

“I’m sorry about that. The detective is very… unsociable.” 

“It’s alright, Mr. Smith. He kind of reminds me of one of my interns, Annie,” You say with a small smile, before your swiveling bar stool is forced around so you’re facing Hanji. 

“Sooo, you like the bar so far?” Their smile is somewhat pleading, and you can’t help but just go along with them. 

“Yes, this place is, um, cool. Very interesting choice,” They clasp their hands together with a pleased expression, as they somehow move closer to you than they already are. At this point, you’re worried that they’ll fall off their stool. 

“Right? Our residential emo boy found it, and we’ve been hooked ever since,” A loud ‘Shut up, Shitty-glasses,’ is heard from behind you, making the brunet laugh, “Let me order you a drink! I think there’s something that you’ll really like!” 

Opening your mouth to reject, it was seemingly too late, because the brunet has already waved over a punk-ed out bartender. You didn’t really hear what the drink is called, but the man sets to work immediately. 

It barely takes a minute for it to be finished, and the purple drink is suddenly in front of your motionless form. Looking up, the purple haired man winks at you, before turning his attention back to a speaking Hanji. 

“Anything she orders, put it on my tab,” He nods, before walking off to service another customer. 

Turning your attention back to Hanji, you try to persuade them to let you pay, “Thanks, Hanji, but it’s alright. I can pay for my own drinks-”

“Don’t worry about it; I asked you out, remember? And it’s the least I can do for harassing you for the past few months,” Startled by their uncharacteristically somber words, you nod in understanding. 

“Alright. Thank you,” They nod, before motioning towards your drink. 

“Try it! I’m sure you’ll like it!” Grabbing the cool glass cup, you bring it up to your lips, and take a small sip. It’s amazing. It tastes like (favourite flavour), and it goes down smooth. 

“You’re right, this is delicious!” They grin brightly, clapping their hands together in glee. 

“Great!” They motion towards the stage with their head, “The show’s about to start! Are you ready for a kickass night?” You laugh at their vigour, and nod. 

“You bet!” 

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all. 

-

You spoke too soon. 

It seems like you’ve drank too much, because you’re now feeling dizzy. Throughout the set, you’d ordered about five more drinks, and they seemingly hit you all at once. 

Hanji, who’s been watching you since your fourth drink, feigns shock at your unstable form. That Rohypnol they grabbed from work works quite well! Now they can see why it’s the choice drug for those awful, awful people. 

“Whoa there, (Nickname), it seems you’ve had too much to drink!” Hanji jokes, hands holding you steady on your bar stool. The only person from your group still at the bar is Erwin, but he knows they have it under control. As chief of police, he feels a bit of remorse, but he knows it's for the best. Hanji will take care of you, because, after all, you’re their only true obsession. 

“Wha-huh? Was’ happenin?” Hanji can all but coo at how cute you are. 

“Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll get you home safe,” Helping you to your boot clad feet, they send a knowing look to Erwin, who smiles in return. Wrapping an arm around your waist, they help you stumble out of the bar, and walk towards their car. Once at the passenger side, the brunet unlocks the door, and assists you inside. You flop onto their leather interior, eyes unfocused, and body movements random. Chuckling to themself, they buckle you in, not before pulling on gloves, and taking your phone, keys, and wallet off of you. 

Taking these items, they empty your wallet of its cash, and chuck everything into a nearby bush. Knowing that the cameras outside the building and the buildings surrounding the place are off, they feel at ease. If anything, they feel like your knight in shining armour. If they hadn’t taken you, someone else would’ve-you’re just too cute. 

Closing your door, and rounding the car, they slide into the driver’s side, before starting the car. Buckling themself in, they look at your out-of-it form, and smile.