#i always got so caught up worrying about silly shit. none of it even mattered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emeraldiis · 3 years

Text

Pillow Talk

A/N: i will never apologize for being horny on main

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: After an entire day of staring at you in that bikini, Loki is left utterly desperate for release. Good thing he sleeps with a lot of pillows.

Tags: masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping, needy!Loki, pining

Loki shifted on the bed, mashing his face roughly into the satin pillow case. It was nearly dawn, and he hadn’t slept. Even the tiniest hint of sleep had evaded him, and he’d tossed and turned enough to make his muscles ache in protest. With a frustrated growl, he rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. This was never going to work.

He had no one to blame but himself for his insomnia. Really, it was pathetic, the way his mind had latched onto one silly little human and made her the object of his obsession. You with your silky hair and soft eyes, keeping him up until the morning hours. Your melodic voice rang in his eardrums, and every time he closed his eyes, he’d see that perfect skin of yours and wish it was pressed up against--

With a gasp, Loki swiftly brought his hands down to grasp the sheets in agony. He wished he could blame it on the fact that he hadn’t bed anyone in at least a decade, but he knew himself. Celibacy had never been an issue for him in the past; he wasn’t a teenage boy, he could control his needs. But you had him feeling like one all over again. The way he gawked at you like it was his first time seeing a pair of breasts nearly spill out of a way-too-tight tank top, it was downright shameful. You were just so innocent, so pure, and he longed to see that smile collapse into a pout as you whimpered against his lips.

Despite his best efforts, Loki could feel his cock throb in renewed need. It had been begging for release nearly all night, and Loki had successfully ignored it so far. He held steady in his determination in not giving in, but his resolve was slipping. Today has been especially tortuous. Tony and his goddamn insistence that Loki participate in team bonding. A day at the beach, one which Loki spent lounging in the hot sand shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. You had splashed around in the waves with Natasha and bounced around in a bikini that seemed specifically designed to torture Loki. The bottoms had shifted themselves to ride up quite a few times, and Loki had taken pleasure in watching you reach back with slippery fingers to pull them out of your ass.

Loki’s cock throbbed again, almost violently this time. He moaned softly into the open air. The sound was pained, and Loki felt his hand begin to drift towards the string of his pajama bottoms. They were silk, and because Loki had chosen to forgo underwear, the soft material felt like heaven against his swollen erection. Before his fingers could slip inside to where he needed them most, Loki ripped them away in defiance and turned onto his side, tangling the blanket between his legs as he rolled. The pressure of the thick comforter into his crotch made Loki suck in a surprised breath. His hips twitched upward of their own accord and Loki’s eyes fluttered in pleasure.

Loki could feel his will dissolving with every jolt of pleasure that swam up his spin. His mind spun with images of you: you curled up against him, reaching back with your dainty hand to pull him closer to you, encouraging him to grind against your backside. As if he was in a daze, Loki grabbed one of the many pillows adorning his bed and shoved it between his legs. The firmness of the pillow was so much more satisfying than the blanket, and Loki groaned.

It was over, he had accepted defeat. Loki was about to hump his pillow like an animal and it was all your fault. He thought of that wet bikini sticking to your skin, your breasts bouncing as you jogged back up the beach to him and breathed out a “what’s up” like he wasn’t about to cum in his swim trunks just from watching you. As the memories danced through his head, Loki’s hips began to roll in more deliberate motions. With every thrust, his cock pressed up against the soft material of his pants. Loki could feel the pre-cum wetting the silk, but it only served to amplify his pleasure as the damp fabric clung to his skin.

The buzzing of his phone startled Loki out of his fantasies, and he nearly wanted to throw the thing against the wall. Tony would get him a new one, as he always did no matter how many times that Loki had insisted they were unnecessary devices. As much as he wanted to let it ring, Loki had learned that calls at this hour usually meant an unexpected mission, and he’d be back on house arrest if he didn’t answer. Loki reluctantly leaned over to his bedside table to grab the vibrating object, keeping the pillow between his legs. His heart came to a near stop as he saw your name illuminated on the screen.

A few moments passed as Loki stared dry-mouthed at the caller ID, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Because the only explanation for you calling him in the middle of the night was that he was dreaming. Sure, you had texted him the occasional internet video that you thought he’d enjoy, but had never called him. And certainly not at five in the morning. With a hard swallow, Loki hit the “accept call” button and waited.

“Hey, Loki?” Came your tired-sounding voice. It wasn’t as gorgeous when muffled by the phone static, but it gave Loki shivers nonetheless.

“What is this about?” Loki tried to sound as irritated as possible, figuring that would be the proper reaction to receiving a call this early. The truth was that he was elated to hear your voice, and was disgusted by himself. A mortal, making him this weak in the knees, it was absolutely pathetic.

You were silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I-I’m not really sure why I called you, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll just--”

“Wait!” Loki burst out before you could end the call. His loud voice echoed back at him in the silent room and he cringed, hoping that no one had heard him. Loki bit his lip anxiously, uncertain of what to say to keep you on the line. “Um, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Oh, I guess that’s good. Well, not really good that you can’t sleep, I mean good that I didn’t wake you.”

Loki chuckled at your awkward ramblings. Norns, you were so cute. “Don’t worry, pet, I know what you meant.” As the words left his lips, Loki’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just called you. Pet. It had been a slip of the tongue, but it brought forth a whole new round of fantasies. He couldn’t help but imagine about what it would be like to own you, to grab you by your pretty face and push his cock between your lips over and over. Absent-mindedly, Loki began to move his hips against the pillow again. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from gasping. As quietly as he could manage, he put the call on speaker and set the phone down beside him so he could lie back on his side and resume his earlier activities. Loki knew it was so, so wrong to do this while you were none-the-wiser, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so worked up for so long and now it was like his body had taken over, hell bent on getting the relief it needed.

“So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Oh, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose,” Loki said as his eyes fell shut. His voice was the slightest bit strained, the soft drag of his pants against his cock making it hard to focus.

“Yeah, same here.” You sighed into the phone, and Loki heard a bit of rustling as you presumably got more comfortable. “I have trouble sleeping a lot, actually. I guess I just get lonely.”

A heavy weight of guilt sank into Loki’s chest. Here you were, opening yourself up to him, and he was trying to get off to the sound of your voice. He was truly depraved, that was for sure. But fuck, the tired rasp to your voice and the small sighs you let out were sending him sky high. His mind was running wild with fantasies of you under him, you in his lap, you up against the wall as he fucked you into it. Loki fought to sound normal as he responded to you. “I understand. Most beings are very social creatures, we need company to--ah!” A particularly rough thrust of his hips had caught Loki off guard as the mind-numbing pleasure rocketed through his body.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, pet,” Loki said, panting as he forced his hips to still. “Just stretching.” It was a lame excuse, but Loki was too far gone to come up with anything better. His body quaked as he tried to keep still, like his own muscles were attempting to disobey his brain. Everything in him was screaming out for more. Cum, you need to cum. Once again, Loki was forced to give in as his hips resumed their grinding. The pillow itself was now damp with how much he was leaking, and it felt amazing.

The phone was quiet, and Loki could almost hear how hard you were thinking on the other end. And then: “Loki, are you...masturbating?” Your voice trailed off as you said that word. The sheer embarrassment was evident in your tone, and Loki was almost astounded at how bold you were. Not many humans had the nerve to just up and ask something like that.

Even through the shock of being caught, Loki could not find it in him to be surprised that you had caught on. You had always come across as intelligent to him, it was foolish to think he could fool you with a half-hearted excuse. Still, it was beyond humiliating to have been called out so brazenly. Loki saw no point in denying it; you would not have asked if you weren't sure. “Yes,” he replied, voice cracking as he froze in place for the second time. Despite the embarrassment, Loki’s erection did not not falter. In fact, it seemed that he only got harder. This mortal would be the death of him.

“O-oh!” You seemed surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to come right out with it. “I’m so sorry, I guess I interrupted you, huh? Shit, I’m sorry.” How absurd. Loki was the one shamelessly rubbing himself against a pillow while talking to you, and you were the one apologizing.

Loki found it intriguing that you hadn’t hung up immediately upon learning of his actions. You hadn’t seemed disgusted at all, just apologetic for interrupting his activities. Loki wasn’t sure if your lack of repulsion was what caused it, or if it was simply his need clouding his judgement, but his mouth began to move before he could stop it. “It’s excellent for sleep. I highly recommend it for nights like these.”

There was no sugar coating it; that was a proposition, no matter how poorly disguised it was as simple advice. “Um,” came your faint reply. Loki’s face burned as he pictured the look of horror you were probably wearing at the moment. And then he nearly swallowed his tongue as you spoke again. “Yeah, I tried earlier. Wasn’t really...working.”

A new gush of blood found its way into Loki’s cock at your admission. He couldn’t help but imagine you writhing on your bed, soaked in sweat and your own slick as you tried desperately to get to that crescendo of pleasure. His blush had somehow grown even stronger, and he couldn’t recall the last time he had even blushed at all. This mortal was killing him, you were his executioner and he was begging for you to pull the trigger.

“That’s quite unfortunate,” Loki managed through his reverie. He was still frozen, almost scared to begin his motions again for fear of cumming on the spot. His cock twitched in time with his racing heart, occasionally dripping precum into his pants. Loki was a mess, but he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. All that mattered was the arousal screaming under his skin and your intoxicating voice in his ears.

“Yeah. Sorry, should I go? And let you, y’know, finish?”

Loki racked his brain for an excuse to get you to stay. It was maddening, how quickly you had ruined him. Seduction was one of his many talents, as was manipulation. In the past, he would have had no trouble at all talking someone into his bed and onto his cock, but you were different. Every flirtation died on his lips the moment he was in your presence, and it was all he could do to form complete sentences as you turned his knees to jelly.

After an excruciating period of silence as Loki thought, he finally spoke. “It would be unfair of me to abandon you in favor of pleasuring myself when you cannot do the same.”

This time it was your turn to stay quiet. Loki waited anxiously, half-expecting you to just leave anyway. He had already come to terms with your disinterest in him, you were probably just being polite. But...you had called him. There must have been at least a slight attraction for Loki to have been on your mind after attempting to get yourself off.

“Maybe we could…” There was a tremble to your voice as you trailed off, and Loki held his breath as he waited for you to finish. Whatever your suggestion ended up being, he was ready to enthusiastically agree. Anything that involved you and pleasure was incredibly enticing. “Maybe we don’t have to hang up, then.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. Did you mean…? An involuntary moan fell from his lips as he shivered at the thought. “I would, mm, not be opposed to that idea.” Loki’s body had won over for the final time that night and his hips began to move again. After restraining himself for so long, feeling that delicious friction once again nearly overwhelmed him.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” you said. “I can’t really believe I actually asked you that.”

“Would you like instruction, pet?”

“That might help, yeah.”

Loki began to wonder if he was dead, and this was his version of Valhalla. Whatever the case, he was going to ride this high for as long as he could. Everything else seemed to fade into the distance: the chirping of birds outside as the sun rose, the hum of the traffic down below, all of it meant nothing. It meant nothing because you were on the other side of the phone asking for Loki to tell you how to touch yourself. Loki took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself; he needed to let you catch up before he could allow himself to lose control.

“I want you to get undressed, and get comfortable.” That was a simple enough command, Loki figured. If he started slow, maybe he could reign in his pathetic neediness and focus solely on your pleasure.

“Okay, I can do that.” The speaker went quiet as you presumably settled onto your bed and slipped out of your pajamas. “Now what?”

“Touch your breasts,” Loki said. His breathing was heavy, but even as he settled into the role of your instructor. “Rub your fingers across them, tell me how it feels.”

You sighed happily. “It feels really nice. Can you tell me what you’re doing?”

Loki was a bit ashamed to admit that he was currently grinding into a pillow, but figured there was no point in lying. “I’m, uh, I have a pillow between my legs, and I’m rubbing against it.”

A whimper burst from your lips. “Oh, that’s so hot.”

“Is it?” Loki asked hesitantly. He didn’t feel very attractive; slick trousers and sweat coated skin, fighting hard to hold it together.

“Yeah, fuck. Can I touch myself, please?”

Loki wanted to drag it out a bit longer, to tease you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to that pretty voice. Especially when you asked so nicely. “Go ahead, pet. You’re such a good girl.”

There was a faint slick sound, then a drawn out moan. Loki groaned in response, the sound extracting a full body shiver from the god. He had never heard such alluring sounds of pleasure, you were just so far above any other being he had ever met. “That’s it,” he murmured in encouragement.

“Feels so good,” you said, voice growing high pitched. “Shit, I’m not gonna last too long. Ah, fuck. Been needing this all night.”

Loki sucked in a breath and began to thrust with more fervor. His eyes nearly rolled back at the pressure and his thighs squeezed around the pillow. “That’s okay, darling. I, oh--” Loki cut himself off with a strangled moan as his pleasure mounted. “I need to cum, too.”

For a moment, panting and whimpered moans were the only thing coming through the speaker. Loki prayed that you were as close as he was, because the coil tightening in his stomach threatened to snap at any moment. It was all he could do to keep from allowing his release to overtake him before you got yours. “Please, pet. I want to hear you cum,” he ground out as his eyes fell shut.

“So close,” you whined. “Loki, I’m gonna cum.”

He couldn’t help it. Loki’s control disintegrated as he began rutting into the pillow like a wild animal. His hips moved in sharp, quick thrusts, and quiet moans left his lips with every movement. ‘Cum--fuck, mm--cum for me, love.” He was going to cum, he couldn’t stop. He just needed you to finish first.

The phone crackled as you let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Loki listened in a trance, trying to memorize every noise that left your lips as you climaxed. Your sounds spurred him on, and he found himself tipping over the edge, cumming harder than he had in a long time. Pleasure whited out his vision, and Loki could faintly hear himself whining your name in a broken voice. He didn’t get the chance to be embarrassed about the noise; his cock pulsed in dizzying waves of euphoria, spurting out rope after rope of hot cum. It shot into his pants, soaking them all the way through and seeping into the pillow. It wasn’t until the last drop had left his body that he was finally able to stop the groans that had been bubbling up from his throat.

As the pleasure subsided, Loki sagged against the bed and took in the mess he had made. His pants were ruined, no doubt about that. And the pillow? Well, it would most likely need a few good washes. But he felt sated, too relaxed to even care about the cum drying to his thighs.

“Are you still there?”

Fuck, he had almost forgotten that you were still on the phone. “Yes,” he croaked out. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finished for him. Though you couldn’t see him, Loki nodded in agreement.

The bed suddenly felt very large and very empty after the daze of Loki’s orgasm faded. He found himself wishing that you were here, so he could wrap his arms around that perfect waist and bury his nose in your hair. It was an incredibly foreign feeling; Loki had never been one to cuddle after sex. But then again, everything about you was different. You were special. Loki opened his mouth, ready to invite you to his room, but something stopped him. What if this had been just a spur of the moment thing for you? What if you only saw him as a tool to get yourself off?

“Would it be weird if I came down there?” You asked, startling Loki out of his thoughts. There you went again, calming his anxieties before he even had the chance to feel them.

A relieved grin broke out on his face, and his heart sped up again in excitement. “No, I would very much enjoy that.” And for the first time in a very long time, Loki felt wanted.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #mcu #marvel #smut #needy!loki #my writing #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

clairecrive · 3 years

Note

Heyy:) can you write Nikolai x tidemaker reader, while Nikolai is still Sturmhond and the reader is part of the crew. Nikolai fell in love at first sight but the reader is a little introvert, but she snaps one day and confesses her love to him.

Sorry English isn’t my first language:)

Stars in the night

a/n: Hi hun sorry for the long wait. it's a bit shitty but I hope you're still around and like this x

warnings: none, fluff

word count: 2.8K

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl,@gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld, @thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020, @partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces, @snugleo, @sugarmelonwater (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

Nights were usually y/n’s favourite time of the day. Chaos and shouts left place to eerie silence and the comforting quietness of the stars. Being on a ship meant always having people around whether they were shouting or singing or playing or whatever.

Y/n didn’t mind their company per se, it’s just that sometimes, people’s presence can get too much. But whenever she felt overwhelmed, she knew she could count on the stars to anchor her and help her breathe.

After an exhausting day at sea, no one refused the possibility to sleep and recharge. So, more often than not, y/n didn’t have any trouble in taking the night shift. It actually made her even more popular with the rest of the crew.

The crew’s captain was another thing. Y/n hadn’t a precise idea on him simply because he was always up to something. Sitting still was not in his blood, even where there were no chores to attend to. If there wasn’t something to do, Sturmhond would create it.

He was such at antipodes with y/n’s personality that their interactions were limited to her assignments, her report after her shift or him updating her about his plans. Or rather- her role in them. Y/n wasn’t foolish enough to think that he really made her part of his plans. And to be fair, y/n never asked more than what directly concerned her. Maybe that was why Sturmhond was so interested in her.

There was nothing subtle about the man. From the way he walked like he owned the world, to his shiny red hair. So, when he unusually started to roam around her just because, y/n did notice. Hell, everyone on the ship noticed. It was hard not to in such a limited space.

However, y/n thought nothing of it. It was just him being his extravagant self. Nothing new, honestly. She did not mind it either. The man had a way of being there without being overbearing, which was more than y/n could say about any other men she had met. Well, all except Tolya, of course.

He had started by bidding her good morning and goodnight every day. Then he would come to find her throughout the day, to chitchat above all things. To y/n’s horror, the privateer didn’t desist. He kept coming and y/n honestly didn’t know how to react.

She had always found him quite handsome and charming, but there was something she was absolutely shit at: small talk. And the man wanted exactly that from her. Alas, it all ended up with Sturmond’s voice filling the awkward pauses and y/n barely answering his questions.

She knew in her heart that she was giving him the wrong impression and she feared that her awkwardness would be mistaken for coldness making him eventually desist. Despite her fears though, the man didn’t seem off-put by her behaviour. He kept coming and coming but that didn’t ease y/n in any capacity.

Then one night, he stopped beating around the bush. It didn’t exactly catch her by surprise, y/n knew him, it was only a matter of time before he came out with it. It wasn’t in his nature to be discreet. Or so she thought, based on what she saw.

“Why did you want to be part of my crew? You don’t seem to like me,” he wondered, his green eyes shining in the moonlight.

Despite the words that left his mouth, y/n knew what his question implied. What he was really asking. But however powerful she might be, y/n didn’t have the guts to be upfront with him. Not even with the comforting presence of the stars as their witnesses.

If only he knew.

She knew that this could potentially be a chance for her to test the waters, to see what his intentions were and to make her clear. But alas, she knew nothing about flirting. Deflecting it is, then.

“Tolya and Tamar trust you. I trust them with my life so,” she shrugged, tacitly implying that she somewhat trusted him too.

“I see. So not only do I owe them my life but also an incredible crew.”

“The big and mighty Sturmhond praising someone other than himself?”

“I only sing praise when they’re due.”

“And, of course, no one deserves it more than yourself.”

“Well, you said it darling.” He flashed her a dazzling smile that made the moonlight pale.

Y/n rolled her eyes a bit to convey her annoyance and a bit to avoid him seeing the blush rising on her cheeks.

Truth be told, Tolya and Tamar weren’t the only ones that persuaded her from becoming a part of his crew albeit they were a big part of it. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she trusted them with her life. If it wasn’t for them, y/n would probably be a soulless machine right now. Her body on the outside but really nothing that made her y/n on the inside. That’s what happened to Grisha in Shu Han.

She owed the twin everything but that wasn’t why she made the decision to join them on the Volkovny. They didn’t force her to follow them or anything. And y/n couldn’t deny that Sturmhond’s handsome face didn’t make her sway a little in her decision. That was, however, something slippery about the privateer. It didn’t make him untrustworthy per se, but it certainly made her wary about trusting him.

The biggest push that prompted her to the Volkovny and life on the sea was her experience in Shu Han. Being Grisha meant not having a safe place outside of Ravka and sometimes in Ravka as well. Her home country was war-torn and as much as y/n had been trained to be a soldier all her life, she didn’t feel ready to take part in a fight that she didn’t feel her own.

Despite his unorthodox methods, General Kirigan’s sole purpose had always been making Grisha safe. And seeing as she had seen first-hand how the world treated Grisha, y/n could really get behind his plot, not caring about how bloody it was.

Life on the sea meant no more persecutors. Outside of her crew, no one in the ports they sailed to knew she was Grisha. Not that she was ashamed of who she was, but it’d be like having a mark on her skin if people knew. A mark that made her unsafe. She craved a life where she didn’t have to constantly watch her back. And being on the Volkovny granted her wish.

Not that it was a safe lifestyle, of course. But y/n was a survivor. If she had come out of the keirgud alive, she could well out best every threat that she will eventually cross on the sea. Besides, she knew that the twins had her back. And, in a small percentage, so did Sturmhond.

She and the captain didn’t exactly have a relationship, not like the twins have. She wasn’t his confidante or anything and she preferred to spend her time on her own -as much as life on deck allowed her- but since she was such in close quarters with the twins, that definitely made her closer to him than the rest of the crew. Not to mention that now the captain had started spending his nights with her too.

Well, not all night and not every night but it was a substantial increase in his time spent with her. Sure, it was all parts of him doing his rounds at night and being his amiable self.

So why the hell did her breath hitch whenever she caught his silhouette approaching? She hated herself for feeling like this. And him. Only that she didn’t, not really. It wasn’t his fault, was it? It was just her being silly. It’ll pass, sooner or later.

Only that, of course, it didn’t. In fact, it got even worse. If before she could manage their interaction by playing aloof and uninterested, it has now come to the point where she almost blubbered. Her heart hated her, it’d beat frantically whenever he’d approach, and his intoxicating smell made it impossible to form a coherent thought.

So, y/n decided to just stay clear of him to prevent any embarrassing situation.

After that, things didn’t get weird per se. Seeing y/n alone and drifting away from most group gatherings wasn’t weird. What was though, was her absence during the night shifts.

Before she monopolized those shifts, now she took turns like everyone else.

That was the big spy that made everyone worry about her. Non though went to talk to her about it. It would have been too personal for most of the crew to ask, and those who didn’t think better of it.

The twins knew her very well, she’d come to them whenever she was ready.

The captain… well, he didn’t react at all, which made y/n think that he hadn’t noticed anything.

He very well did, though. And the sign that he did was that he hadn’t come to her anymore. He noticed her withdrawal and while he didn’t understand why he respected her decision.

That didn’t mean that he gave up on her entirely though. His research moved elsewhere; his tactic shifted from approach to observe.

It took him almost a week to be feed with this new tactic. Not only did it prove unsuccessful, but he had almost broken a limb or two in his spying attempts.

One night, the one when he knew that you had taken the shift, he shifted again to ”approach”.

“Lovely night, eh?” He grimaced as the words left his mouth. Lamest approach ever.

“Oh, captain,” y/n exclaimed, startled by his unexpected presence, “yes, indeed.” She agreed, turning back to rest her arms over the bannister.

Nikolai’s eyes shine with amusement and y/n grimaced, cloaked in the darkness of the night, she was torn between wanting to punch herself or him. Maybe both.

“Sorry for startling you. I was surprised to see you here.”

“I’m on the night shift today,” she explained even though it wasn’t needed but saints. If they had given her social skills, she would have been too powerful.

“I see. It does not happen as often,” his eyes roamed over to her face, he could only see the side facing him thanks to the moonlight.

Y/n knew what he was doing, the man was hardly subtle, but she appreciated his attempt of breaching the subject lightly.

“We all took turns; it wasn’t fair for me to hijack this time shift.”

“I’m far too smart for you to lie to my face,”

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean to say,” he sighed, regret showing on his face, “is that I worry that you might have changed your habits because of me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“It has not escaped my notice that you’ve trying to avoid me.”

“Avoiding someone on a ship is an impossible feat.”

“I’m aware,” he smirked, and something told her that seeing her trying to do exactly that amused him to no end. Y/n turned back towards to sea and said nothing. Better silence than pointless words.

“So,” it was Sturmhond who broke the silence, “want to tell me what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, captain.”

“Again with lying,” he chided softly. Sturmond knew y/n like the back of his hand. Being on a ship will do that. He knew then that the best way to approach her wasn’t to put her under the spotlight or in a corner.

She sighed, knowing that lying to him would not get her out of this situation. Trying to muster her courage, she turned to him.

“Alright, you’re right,” she conceded and that alone was telling since Sturmonhd’s ego didn’t need any stroking. “You haven’t done anything wrong, though. It’s me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You should because it’s true. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by my emotions and I don’t know how to deal with them.”

“So, you just run from the situation?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it running,” she mumbled under her breath. His intense stare put her even more on edge.

“Isn’t that point of living, though?” he added softly, “Feeling?”

“Maybe.”

“Amazing,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“What?” Y/n’s eyes flickered to him and the expression on his face left her wondering if he was serious or making fun of her.

“I’ve seen you facing volcras and other enemies straight on with a courage that puts to shame many soldiers and yet this is what you’re afraid of?”

“Rejections is much scarier than combat.” Abandoning every attempt of pretence, y/n went with the truth. She was already in the game, now she had no choice but to play.

“Is it?” His brow raised and now there was no doubt that he was making fun of her.

“If something goes bad in a battle, I’m dead. And there’s nothing for me to worry about if that happens, right?”

“But putting myself out there and then getting rejected, means living with the shame and embarrassment of knowing that I’m not enough.”

“Well, that’s a rather tragic take on it.”

“Joke all you want. I don’t suppose you know what it feels like, giving your shining hair and dazzling smile.”

“While knowing you think that of me brings me immense joy, I would also like to point out that you’re wrong.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrow in wonder.

“Rejection takes a whole other shade of intensity when it comes from your family.” The words were said lightly but they made her breath get caught in her throat anyway.

“Is it because of your lifestyle?”

“It’s because of their opinion of me that I’ve chosen this lifestyle.”

“I’m sorry that your family is unable to see how much you shine.” “Maybe it’s because you’ve blinded them?” She tried to ease the tension and she was rewarded with a tease of a smile.

“Oh, don’t point it at me! I will lose my eyes and then you’ll throw me from this ship,” she shrieked and went to shield her eyes as if she was under the midday sun. This foolish stunt earned her the captain’s laugh. One so full and rich that left no doubt of its authenticity. It made y/n smile too and wish that he’d do that more often.

“I would never throw you from this ship.”

“What use could I have with no eyes?”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find you something else to do.”

“Like being the ship’s clown.”

“While you amuse me to no end, I was thinking about a far more private role.”

“Private as in?”

“Meant for my eyes only.”

“Selfish much?”

“When it comes to you? Shamelessly so.”

The privateer leaned down to her, agonizingly slow giving her all the time to pull away if she wanted to. A million things swirled through her mind in those few seconds. Every worry about what was going to happen, about all the ways this could go sour.

The wheels in her mind turned incredibly fast almost making her lightheaded. Before this could turn into a full session of overthinking though, y/n shook her head effectively stopping the thoughts from growing.

Despite her lacking in basic social skills in an incredibly sad way, conversation with him always flowed easily. She never worried about what she was supposed to do or say or whatever. She could just… be. Be y/n.

That was priceless if not rare. And right then and there she decided that she wasn’t willing to lose it. Not without fighting.

Borne from the spur of the moment the best decision she could ever make, she leaned into him as well. Closing her eyes, she was able to see the corner of his lips lifted a little before she felt his lips on him.

Saints.

Did she say that she was afraid of feeling? Fuck that. This feeling, the feel of the touch of his lips on her, his fingers lightly stroking her face, his breath inside her, him becoming a part of her? She was pretty sure was going to die if she went too long without it.

Angling his head to the side, she pressed her lips on his with renowned fervour. Her hands found their way in his strands. A moan left him as y/n swallowed the sound. Using the grip on his hair, y/n pulled him to her. Sturmond gladly followed her lead, returning the intensity of the kiss before his hands gripped the back of her knees, lifting her up.

He lightly used the bannister as leverage, his grip shifting to her hips holding her so tightly so that losing her was not an option. Not now, not ever.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai reader x grisha reader #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov imagine #nikolai lanstov imagines #nikolai lastov fluff #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lanstov fic #shadow and bone

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emilysshortstories · 3 years

Text

Paul Lahote Part One

trigger warnings: ??? Nothing yet but not promises that will keep in later parts

words: 1543

It’s in those moments of deep desperation that you find hope. Or it seems to find you. When I left home to live with my uncle, miles away from my home, desperation was the only thing on my mind. Desperately running away, I didn’t want to face that part of my life that I already felt as though I was behind. I wanted to start fresh. I still do, so why does the reason I came here matter? My uncle, Charlie, agreed that he wouldn’t tell a soul about the events that lead me to his home, not even his own daughter. Who never really dropped the subject of course, but knew it wasn’t any of her business. I wasn’t naive enough to actually believe that I wouldn’t have to face problems here, but I think that’s what drew me here. Different problems, and that’s what I got.

When I first moved here my cousin, Bella, had a boyfriend who she spent most of her time with. She still introduced me to everyone and showed me around, but when he moved things shifted. Bella completely shut down, she was always quiet and reserved, but this was different. She was numb. It took her a really long time to talk to anyone, and when she did, it was only me, Charlie, and her friend Jacob. They were always working on these two motorcycles together, sometimes I would join them. Jacob was nice, clearly had a massive crush on Bella even though she always denied it.

One day when I tagged along I met Quil and Embry, they also seemed nice but I didn’t talk to them much. I didn’t talk to anyone that lived on the reservation actually, not until I had to stop Bella from doing something stupid. Feels like I’ve been doing that a lot lately.

She was pissed. I’ve never seen her this angry before. I was a little scared to get in the car with her, but the fear of what she was going to do with this anger overpowered me. I stayed in the car when she stormed into Jacob’s house, but practically leaped out as I saw her approaching “Sam’s cult”. I was too far behind her and couldn’t reach her until she had already slapped one of the boys. “ALRIGHT” I yelled at Bella, getting in between them and seeing the boy start to shake in anger. “What you’re NOT gonna do is pick a fight with Mr. Mc steroids over here.” I continued while looking the boy up and down. We made eye contact. I didn’t want to but I froze and felt something turn in my gut while he immediately stopped shaking. I quickly shook it off and turned back to my crazy cousin. “Lets leave. Get in the fucking car John Cena”, pointing to her truck. I heard a bit of laughter as we walked away, but didn’t turn around. I didn’t even dare look in the rear view mirror as I drove off.

After Bella calmed down she admitted that slapping a 7 foot Greek sculpture wasn’t the smartest move. “They did something to him, I know it. Jacob’s too scared to tell me what’s going on but I’m gonna figure it out.” Bella said with gritted teeth. “Listen, you know Jacob better than I do so it’s your call, but maybe consider the idea that it’s none of your business? You and him have been friends since preschool. I feel like if it was necessary for you to know, he would have told you”. By the time I finished my speech Bella had already shut down. Just like she was before. Broke my heart seeing her like this. Maybe I should talk to Jacob or the “cult”, just be civil about it.

So that’s what I did. The next day I drove to Jacob’s house, but Billy said he wasn’t home and to try Sam’s place. Well, he said Jacob wasn’t home and I begged him to tell me where he might be. For some reason he caved and told me where to find him and not Bella. I tried not to think about it too much or let my anxiety get the best of me while driving.

When I knocked on the door, I didn’t expect a small, sweet woman with a huge scar across her face to answer the door. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes, I was looking for Jacob?”

“Are you Bella?”

“No, I’m Y/N, Bella’s cousin.”

“Oh. OH!” She seemed really surprised to find out this information. “Jacob it out with Paul right now. Working. They will be back soon though if you would like to come in, the rest of the crowd is here. I’m Emily, Sam’s fiance.”

“Oh I can come back another time, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be silly, we are all friendly and we are dying to get to know you.”

What does that mean? I walked in and saw everyone I saw yesterday but Jacob and the boy Bella slapped. Paul. “Hey Embry, how have you been?” I asked, seeming he was the only person I recognized. “Good, You?”

“I’m ok, just worried about Bella. Wanted to give Jacob a bit of grief for leaving her high and dry. She’s taking it a bit hard, but I also wanted to apologize for how she acted yesterday. Slapping who I assume is Paul wasn’t cool at all. I’m sure she feels really awful about it.”

“It’s not Jacob’s fault for leaving Bella. You don’t have to apologize for Bella, I think we have all wanted to slap Paul at some point in time.” Sam said.

“Got it, but is there anything I can do to get Jacob to talk to Bella again?”

“Jump in line, we all want him to talk about it so we don’t have to hear him monologuing all the time about it.” Embry said, before the third and last boy elbowed him really hard.

“So none of this is your doing?” I asked all the boys.

“Not exactly, no.” Said Sam.

“Ok. That’s some clarity at least.” I said with a smile.

“Why don’t you sit down, muffin, before the beasts attack them?” Emily offered a bowl full of muffins the size of Ohio to me.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” I said while taking a muffin and sitting next to Embry. Emily was right that the boys would attack the food, holy shit. “So why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Emily said, seeming excited and sitting across from me. “What do you want to know? I’m pretty much an open book.”

“What brings you to Forks?” The ONE question I hate.

“Running away from my problems, if i’m being honest. I’ve always loved the rain, needed a change, and my uncle, Charlie, offered me a room. So I took it.”

“I like that, where are you from?”

“Austin.”

“Texas?” said the only boy who I didn’t know.

“No, actually it’s a small secret base on Mars. I’m an alien.” This made everyone laugh, especially the strange boy. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“Jared, you always that sarcastic?”

“Yes, humor is my only likable personality trait.”

“I hear that” said Jared while raising his muffin. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“I write, read, and love watching movies and TV shows. I'm a big music lover but I think that’s just a side effect of being born and raised in Austin. Since moving here I’ve really taken up hiking though, it’s so beautiful here. Not just flat desert like in Texas.”

“The only TV show I watch is New Girl, nobody here seems to watch it.” Said Jared and before I even thought it through my favorite Schmit quote fell out of my mouth.

“You would have been my nightmare. We were on very strict instructions from Rabbi Schmolli not to say anything until the very last christian kid found out about Santa Claus. Ruining Christmas? Very bad for our brand.”

Everyone seemed to like me after that and conversation flowed freely. I really liked spending time with everyone and lost track of time until I saw that the sun was going down. “Oh shit, I gotta get going, I’m not used to driving on ice yet and don’t want to drive on these roads when it's dark. Thank you so much for being so nice to me Emily, it was really nice talking to everyone.”

“Oh but Paul isn’t back yet” Emily said quickly. “And Jacob.”

“I can give Jacob shit anytime and I’m sure Paul isn’t my biggest fan after what Bella did so I think it’s a good idea to head out now. Thanks again though.” I said and started making my way to the door.

“Of course! No problem, please come by again. I liked talking to you too and I’d love you to properly meet Paul.”

We walked out just as Jacob and Paul emerged from the trees, but as soon as Paul made eye contact with me, that same flip happened in my gut again before he took off running back into the woods. Guess that answers my question on if he’s mad at me.

#twilight #new moon #paul lahote #quil ateara #sam uley #emily uley #embry call #jared #jacob black #paul lahote smut #paul lahote imagine

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together

The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked.

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too.

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him.

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness.

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was.

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys.

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk.

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it.

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later.

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him.

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match.

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance.

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause.

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us.

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it.

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself.

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts.

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time.

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us.

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls.

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys.

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face.

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times.

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me.

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that.

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Reunited

Seperated pt.2

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1751 words

Warnings: none

Summary: When Glenn and the reader are reunited, both Daryl and Maggie find themselves feeling especially jealous.

Part 1

——————————————————————————————————

You followed Daryl down the path he'd came from, doing your best to keep from stumbling or holding him up too much.

It wasn't lost on you that Daryl was doing you a huge favor by sticking his neck out for you and you didn't want to cause him any more problems than he may have been dealing with already. On that front, you did better than he thought you would, considering the shape that you were in.

"You doing okay?" he wondered, turning back to you slowly. The two of you had been following the main road thus far, making it a pretty smooth path but he just couldn't be too careful. You were a few paces behind him, so he stopped to let you catch up and then checked the tightness of the wrap.

So far, you were doing alright.

"I'm alright, don't worry" you assured, finding it funny that he was checking on you. There was no good reason for him to care so much but he did. It even surprised Daryl that he cared so much but he decided not to think about that.

It was probably just because you were hurt, or all alone. He knew that feeling and didn't want you to have to go through that if you didn't have to.

"So, you wanna tell me where we're going to?" you asked, finally getting up the courage to do so. You didn't get a really good feel for what Daryl communicated like until much later in your walk but now that you got a better idea, you needed to know.

It wasn't everyday that you just followed a complete stranger to a mystery location, and if you could fill in a few of those pieces, you were going to try.

The male in question was silent for a moment, visibly slowing his pace so that you could keep up. You were hurt, and he didn't want you to feel like you were slowing him down or anything silly like that.

He just assumed that you were that type to feel like you were constantly a burden or some shit like that.

"It's a prison. There's a whole group of us held up there right now, it's got walls and all that" he decided, figuring that was the best description he could give you without getting into too much needless detail.

That was just the way it was, pretty simple.

"A prison huh? Sounds homey" you joked, you had no idea what you were going to do when you got there or if the others would want to accept you, but you were just going to have to see. A joke seemed odd, given the circumstances but you couldn't help yourself.

Surprisingly, Daryl laughed.

It was a dry laugh, deep in his throat and not very amused but you took it as a win. That was the closest you'd gotten to any real emotion from him in all this time. For you, it was more than enough and guaranteed that wasn't going to be the last joke you'd attempt.

"It's not as bad as it sounds" he shrugged, in a way that told you it must not have been. Though, even if it was a hole in the ground, it was more than you'd had for the last few weeks. Anything was better than sleeping on a pile in the ground or under the back seats of a car.

You nodded, stopping short when you came across a fallen tree, covering a pile of dried brush. Daryl stopped first, causing you to almost run into him, though you managed to stop just before you could.

It didn't make any sense. Until, you saw the very front end of a tire peeking through the leaves. This must have been how Daryl had gotten out here in the first place, but that also meant that you had to go back the same way.

"You ever road a motorcycle before?" he questioned, pulling it up on its two wheels. You hadn't, and you would have thought that was obvious. However, when you shook your head, Daryl chuckled.

So, your real joke wasn't funny but the fact that you'd never been on a motorcycle was? This guy didn't make any sense.

"You're being serious? I'm not getting on that thing" you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. The action made your cut burn but you ignored it, trying to keep your ground steady. You were scared of it, and to be fair, anyone would have been.

Your mama always told you that motorcycles were dangerous, and you believed her.

"Well princess, I don't see any other options so unless you want to stay here..." Daryl hummed, gesturing off to the bike, which you really didn't want to get on. Though, you didn't want to be left here more, so you agreed.

You let Daryl get on first, and then you tried your best to get on, throwing your leg over like you were trying to straddle a horse. You had never done that either but you figured it was the right approach and when you didn't fall off, it seemed to have worked.

"Now just hold on tight and try not to fall off" Daryl joked, though you were beginning to think that he was being serious. In any case, you did as he said, holding tight to his middle to keep from falling off and before you knew it, there was a huge prison in front of you.

He was telling the truth.

The walls seemed pretty sturdy, and from what you could tell, there weren't any holes that would cause any glaring problems. Still, everything you were thinking about faded away as soon as you saw Glenn standing there behind those walls.

For a second, you thought that you were hallucinating, but there was no way that was true. You were in a little bit of a rough spot but not that rough. You would have known him anywhere and while you never thought you'd see him again, there was no disputing it.

That was Glenn.

"Oh my God. Oh my GOD!" you squealed, doing your best to get off the back of the motorcycle as gingerly as you could, though seeing as it hadn't fully stopped yet, you faltered on your way. You were okay, and safe within the walls, but it didn't stop Daryl from scoffing.

"What are you doing? Stop that" he chastised, looking at you like you were out of your mind, and maybe you were but you couldn't worry about that. All you could think about was Glenn, standing there with mud on his face.

Before you even knew what was going on, you jumped into him, wrapping your arms around him in a pretty aggressive way. It hurt like a bitch, the open wound in your side punishing you for it immediately but you ignored it.

Right now, you didn't care about anything other than him.

"I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead" he muttered, holding you close with his head in your neck. It was the sort of thing that only two lifelong friends would do after so much time, and you didn't even question it.

However, a few feet away, Daryl was putting the motorcycle up and had very obviously changed his demeanor. He was angry seeing you like that with him, a strange feeling bubbling up in his stomach, but he ignored it.

Clearly, there was something going on between you, but he didn't know what and he wasn't alone. Maggie was struggling with the same thing from where she was standing. Right now, her partner was all wrapped up in a complete and total stranger and she didn't like that. No one would have in her place.

"I thought you were dead too" you replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek before backing away completely, fixing where his hair had gotten a bit messed up in the hug. It had gotten quite a bit longer than the last time you'd seen him.

That seemed to be the last straw for Maggie who stepped forward and cleared her throat. That was more than enough for you and Glenn to turn your attention toward her, and the smile she'd plastered onto her beautiful face.

"Who is this?" she asked, her arms folded in front of her chest as she addressed you. It wasn't aggressive or hostile, just distant and given everything that was going on, you couldn't blame her.

By this point, Daryl had come to stand at your side. He had given you your space to catch up but until you got acquainted with everyone here, you were his responsibility. Not to mention the fact that he had found himself quite fond of you in your time together.

He didn't just want to throw you to the wolves, at least not before he made sure that you got that cut taken care of.

"Her name's Y/N, I found her out there" he spoke up, addressing her question before Glenn even got the chance. At which point, you nodded, offering a hand to her in return, "I'm Y/N" you repeated, looking between her and Glenn as if waiting for the same.

However, he was still so caught up in the fact that this was happening, and that you were alive that nothing else mattered. Something as simple as introducing someone he cared about to his girlfriend was a luxury he didn't really think about anymore.

Though, you coming back into his life was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh yeah, this is Maggie. She's my girlfriend" he introduced. It sounded so mundane, so normal but maybe that was because it was. The two of you had made it all this way, separately and still managed to come back together.

It was nothing short of a miracle.

"Glenn and I were friends as kids, we grew up together" you filled in finally, figuring she had the rest of the pieces to put the story together fully.

You were beyond ecstatic to meet her. Immediately, the tense reaction she'd had to you initially melted away and she smiled. All she needed was some context to understand but Daryl wasn't going to be so easy.

Even knowing all that, he still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wasn't sure why. Until he found out though, he wasn't going to be able to relax. That was for sure.

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embrassemoi · 4 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus, Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)

Mom

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom — “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.��

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet.

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.

Until next time

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,” Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,’ rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

148 notes · View notes

djarinvibe · 4 years

Text

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: Okay it’s finally here! I’m so excited for this fic, I’m also excited for y’all to read this fic.

Warnings: MODERN!AU, none

Words: 2.2K

Summary: A new professor has been hired at your work seemingly out of the blue.

Master List

September

Dust-filled rays of golden hues shone brightly throughout the large teachers lounge as you sat there, sipping your morning coffee. The room was empty, save for your sitting figure. You typically got to work early, liking the quietness of the space before the other professors and staff would arrive. It gave you time to wake up, as well as prep for the upcoming day. You would do it in your classroom, however, you shared it with the night school teacher and she doesn't leave until it’s time for your first class of the day.

The school you teach at is a community college, but only a two year institution. It’s quite small, one of the smallest in the state, due to how lowly populated the surrounding cities are. You enjoy it, it gives you a chance to form personal relationships easier. Plus the simpleness of a small town has always intrigued you.

You moved to the low-populated city shortly after graduating and getting your bachelors degree just seven years ago. You got your job as the Film and Literature professor for both grades shortly after and wouldn’t change it for the world, having taught here for six years now. You love your students, and the curriculum, and you’ve also made friends with the other long-time staff.

The school year just started, actually. You're only two weeks into the semester. The beginning of the year always had a bit of magic to it. Students actually want to be here and teachers aren't so crabby. There's a collective togetherness felt across the whole campus for the first month or so, it's the highlight of the year.

“Here again early?” The voice of your colleague startled you, prompting you to spill some coffee over the papers you’d been grading.

“Shit,” You muttered, quickly trying to dab away the liquid, “Uh, yeah, I always do.” You chuckled, shrugging away the situation. You looked up to see who’d entered the room and smiled, noting it was one of your close work friends, Omera. The woman has worked here for almost as long as you, having started two years after. She isn't a teacher, instead she works in the office as a secretary. Omera also has a ten year old daughter, and is an amazing single mother. You've met her child, Winta, a few times in the past. You two became friends quickly, finding out you had many things in common.

“I prefer the extra twenty-five minutes of sleep.” She chuckled lightly, padding over to the old coffee machine. You always made sure to brew a full pot, as you were usually the first person to make any. You nodded towards her with a quieted snort, rolling your eyes, before looking back down at the work in front of you.

“Oh, did you hear? Dean Karga hired a new Astronomy teacher.” She smirked, pouring the coffee into a cup as she leaned against the cabinets. “I got a peek of him after his interview,” She paused to throw away the stir stick and trot over, sitting at the small table to join you, “And he’s cute.”

“I didn’t hear,” You raised your brow, “We’re two weeks into the year, why hire him late? Is he new in town?” Your curiosity peaked as you gawked at the woman for answers.

“I don’t know.” Omera shrugged, taking a sip of the hot liquid, “Could be. But anyways, the Dean is going to introduce him during the morning meeting.”

“Oh maker, I remember when he did that with me.” You chuckled, shaking your head. Every new member of staff got introduced to the others by the Dean. Greef tries to be a comedian during, but it always ends up being an awkward stand up set with no laughter and scoffs of pity.

“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Omera smirked, “Oh, and I heard he’s single.” She added with a tap to your arm. The woman knows that you haven't dated in a while; you just haven't been trying.

“Oh, I don't know…” You trailed off, shaking your head. You didn't have time to think about that. You had more pressing things to worry about like your job, and...

“Just see how it plays out.” The secretary pleaded softly, prompting you to finally cave. She gave a small cheer of delight, her excitement rolling off her thin figure in waves.

It took another half an hour before most of the staff finally arrived, just in time. The morning meetings always took place twenty minutes before the starting bell, leaving enough room to cover current topics and get to your classroom.

With the teachers lounge packed as tightly as could be, the Dean finally stepped into the space. Following behind him was, who you could only assume, the new Professor. You didn’t catch a great glimpse, as someone partially blocked your vision, but from what you saw you were intrigued.

“Alright, alright everyone.” Dean Karga’s voice dispelled the murmurs of the room, making it deafeningly quiet. The only sound you could hear was the chattering of students walking the halls outside. You glanced at Omera beside you, her eyes fixated on the new teacher next to the Dean. Scooting slightly until your view wasn't blocked, the mysterious man finally came into view.

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in your belly, the man in your vision causing them. The Dean’s words melted away, your head becoming fuzzy as you looked at the new teacher. He was handsome, to say the least. He donned a brunette mop of loose, curly hair, and stubble to match. He was broad, the light gray suit he donned only making him look more so. He stood with his hands on his hips, gaze scanning the room when he unsuspectedly locked sight with your own.

Time froze for a moment as his dark eyes peered, your heart gaining speed and your breath catching in unison. Though looking at each other in a crowded room, you felt as though you were the only two. You could've sworn he gave you a gentle nod and a grin, but it felt hazy.

When you finally blinked and looked down, you noted how warm your cheeks had gotten. You felt flustered, the hot rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins and warming up your cold hands. You kept your gaze on the floor ahead of you, trying to steady your racing heart. It was silly to be so flustered over a look, but you haven't experienced that in years.

“And this is our new Astronomy Professor, Din Djarin,” Karga’s words floated back in and you furrowed your brow, trying desperately to ignore the man beside him. The crowd murmured greetings towards the man in the light gray suit, and you felt Omera’s elbow poke your side. Looking towards her, she held a smug expression only fueling the heat in your cheeks.

“Okay, first period is about to start. Better get you all to class.” The Dean’s voice echoed, and the room erupted with chatter as the herds began to clear out. You, flustered, grabbed your stack of papers and bag, ducking your head to exit silently. Getting to the safety of your classroom was all you cared about.

The day surprisingly flew by, despite the whole meeting fiasco earlier that morning. Getting into the groove of class always caused the days to drift by without a blink. Plus, you tried to make the curriculum as engaging as possible to keep both you and your students interested.

After dismissing your last period of the day, you remained in the room working on the papers from the morning. The afternoon sunlight barred against the windows and lit the room brilliantly. That's one reason you loved your classroom; no matter the season, you always got sun. Plus, you’d hung several plants by the windows three years ago much to Dean Karga’s dismay. But it made the space feel less like a prison cell with its painted white brick walls and cold, tile floors.

A knock on the door filled the silence of the space, startling you slightly. After letting out a chuckle at your scare, you yelled for whomever to enter, knowing sometimes students will leave something behind. However, when the door clicked open and you looked up, your breath caught.

“Hi,” The new professor's low voice echoed in the silence as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind. You cleared your throat, standing up from your desk and subconsciously straightening the fabric of your clothes.

“H-Hi, you must be…?” You stuttered out the sentence, walking to the edge of your desk and leaning against the surface for support. Of course you know him, but you’d feel impolite not asking. The man trotted into your room til he stood only a few feet in front of you.

“Oh, uh Din, Din Djarin.” He spoke, sticking out a hand for you to shake. Complying, your much smaller hand became engulfed by his own as the two of you greeted the other. You were quick to introduce yourself, managing not to stutter as you spoke this time. The man repeated your name, the sound of it rolling off his lips like velvet.

“Is there a reason you stopped by?” You questioned, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. His head tilted in question before he realized what you'd asked.

“Oh, Yes, I was just making a point to introduce myself to the staff personally. The Dean put on quite a show.” Din commented, shaking his head. You don't remember a thing about what Dean Karga had said during the whole meeting, only the vivid eye contact between you and the man in front of you, but you chuckled at his claim nonetheless.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled softly, studying the man's face. You couldn't help but notice a few minor scars across his warm skin, one tainting the bridge of his curved nose and another along his cheekbone. There was even a small one hiding on his chin, just showing from behind his stubble.

It made you curious as to how an Astronomy Professor could get such things. Then again, people get scars in all types of weird ways. For example, you have a scar along your thigh that you got from a bike accident involving a hill and your chain catching. You were thirteen at the time.

“What do you teach?” The man questioned, his eyes looking around the room, no doubt trying to guess. The night teacher you shared the space with had put up some decor, but for the most part, the walls were bare of any guidance; aside from the several plants hanging by the window.

“Film and Literature. Have been for...” You paused to do the mental math, “Six years.”

“That’s a long time.” Din observed, nodding his head. You agreed with a slight chuckle, looking away and biting your lip. The man's eyes studied your face as you gazed elsewhere, enamored by your delicate features. Seeing you from across the teachers lounge had been burning in his mind all day. In fact, he had started going room to room for ‘introductions’ just to find you; It only took him seven classrooms.

“Well, I love it,” You shrugged, a smile taking over your face, “And what do you teach?” You finally looked back up at the man, your eyes greeting once again. The intimate contact caused such an anxious stir in your belly, but a welcomed stir.

“Astronomy.” He responded with a nod, putting his hands onto his hips.

“A spaceman huh?” You questioned with a laugh, “I suck at science… hence why I am an Film and Literature teacher.” You gestured to the empty desked room. The man just chuckled along before you two fell into silence again. It didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as before, your tension slowly melting away.

You haven't felt this way around someone for a long time. At least not since your college boyfriend over seven years ago, you dated for two years before you graduated and moved. You haven't really made an effort to since, not for any reason in particular, mostly just because you haven't found someone who made you feel special. Plus, it’s a small area and most of the men weren't available

“Well, I should let you get back to work.” Din spoke after a moment of wordless stares. His sentence was slow and hesitant, almost like he didn't want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot.” You stood up from leaning against your desk and chuckled, looking to the stack of papers on the surface.

The two of you began a slow pace towards the door, heads cast to the floor in shyness. Your sets of footsteps sounded against the tiled floor, filling the empty silence with an echoed click. When you reached the door, the man turned on his heels, nearly bumping into you.

“I'm in room 302 If you'd ever like to stop by?” The man’s statement was more spoken like a hopeful question.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to.” You bit your lip before giving him a gleeful smile, nodding your head. The man perked up at your response, giving you one last goodbye before stepping out of the room.

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

I know there are a few people who want to be tagged, but i lost your @’s! Please send an ask if you want to be added to the Shooting Stars tag list!

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction

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youre-fired-s-seaborn · 3 years

Text

So you guys are never going to guess what I just did.

I might possibly be writing a tww fic (FOR REAL THIS TIME I PROMISE) and I just finished the first little snippet so I thought I’d share that with y’all!

It’s going to be several chapters, each one from the POV of a different senior staff member, basically just a random collection of scenes where everyone Works Out their Issues. Official summary= The senior staff + Donna think about the past, how far they’ve come, heartbreak, hard times, sleep deprivation, and what family means to them over a ginormous bowl of popcorn.

(Part backstory headcanons, part character study, part found family, part random other shit?? I have no clue where this came from tbh. Anyway enjoy this rambly dumpster fire) (the popcorn is figurative)

Part one is Sam, and I’m sure none of you are surprised 😋 Enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Samuel Norman Seaborn was a kid, ‘I want to be a lawyer when I grow up’ was one thought that didn’t cross his mind, not even once. Which is saying something, because little Sam had a lot of thoughts. He had opinions about everything, even things he didn’t understand (especially those) and he had ideas, big ideas that everyone said were going to change the world one day, and he had an imagination the size of the Chrysler building and not enough room in his head for all the stories he wanted to tell. Everyone liked Sam. He was easy to like. At least, until he got a little older and suddenly his imagination was distracting instead of endearing and his ideas were silly instead of helpful and the big books he liked to read were taking time away from more important things. It didn’t make sense to him, because he had always thought they were the most important things in the world, but one day when one too many teachers had commented on it and one too many other children had teased him for it, he sat himself down at his desk and told himself he wouldn’t be like that anymore. Sam decided he wouldn’t be the dreamy one with his head in the clouds anymore. He would be focused, and dedicated, the model student and son.

So somewhere in middle school, Sam Seaborn changed from the cheerful, somewhat dazed and forgetful child he had been into the most intensely focused little academic his teachers had ever seen. Focusing was usually...hard, for Sam. At least, focusing on the right thing. His mind wanted to go in so many different directions and think about so many different things, and none of them were what he should have been focusing on. But he found that if he worked really hard and forced himself to think about one specific thing, then he could usually achieve it. Homework and such wasn’t exactly what he was passionate about, but it was what his parents wanted, and what everyone else around him seemed to want, so he did his best.

He worked hard through high school and when he graduated, he got accepted to Princeton. Sam loved Princeton. He loved everything about it. He started working hard because he liked it, and not because he thought other people wanted him to. He worked towards his law degree, and he got it.

(He never did stop writing, though. It was like a disease. No matter where he was or what he should have been doing, he could never make himself not write.)

There was a bit of a gray area after that, and more than one bad decision, but then he got the job at Gage-Whitney. And Gage-Whitney was...well. He was good at it. It paid well. He kept working his way up the ladder until he made partner, and wasn’t that everyone’s dream? Shouldn’t he love his job? Maybe he should have. He didn’t.

Then there was Lisa, and he couldn’t decide if she had been a mistake or not. He had liked her an awful lot; even loved her. She had been quite fond of him too. It had been real. Once. He remembered nice dinners and radiant smiles and the joy of having a partner who was as smart as you.

God, what happened to us? He’d think sometimes, but it was stupid, because he knew exactly what had happened to them. Sam had quit his job and gone running off to New Hampshire with Joshua Lyman. He’d tried to build a presidential campaign from scratch, then actually managed to accomplish it, which was somehow even worse for their relationship because then he was zipping all over the country without a minute to spare and he told himself he called whenever he could but it wasn’t enough and he knew it. Whenever they did get to see each other, there was a...distance, that there never had been before. Eventually Lisa would say something passive aggressive about how apparently Josh Lyman meant more to him than she did, and Sam would get defensive and mutter something about how he never complained when she always went off to fancy bars with her fancy friends every other night, and she would bark out an incredulous laugh because of course he would find a way to insult her friends when he was the one who had left her in the dust, because wasn’t that just the kind of person he was!

It hurt even more because they cared, they both cared. A lot. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because Sam chose the campaign and she chose to stay and there was nothing they could say to change each other’s minds. Her eyes had gotten big and wet and angry, and he had been numb, staring out at nothing. That was the night she gave him back the ring.

But he tried not to think about it too much now. It was a sure-fire way to ruin his day. Or week, more likely.

“Did you know that supposedly the shortest telegram correspondence in history was between Victor Hugo and his literary agent?” he asked. He was sitting at one of the desks in the bullpen, hunched over some files that he really didn’t want to read. It was one of those days, where there was a lot to do but a lot of time to do it, so you ended up doing anything but what you were supposed to do. One of those days that felt lazy and slow when it shouldn’t have been.

Josh was leaning against an office door frame across from him. “Really.”

“Yeah.” he flipped through some of the papers absently. “To ask how the book sales were doing he just sent a question mark. The guy sent back an exclamation point. And all I’m saying is if Victor Hugo himself could restrain his verbosity like that, then just maybe the guys writing these files could-” he paused as Josh wandered over, resting his forehead against the back of Sam’s head and wrapping an arm around him from behind. “What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Josh chuckled. “You’re just a huge dork.”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Just part of my charm, I guess.”

“In that case, you are extremely charming.”

“Ha ha.” Sam looked over as Josh slid into the desk chair next to him. “Hey, did CJ say how the briefing went? I was on the Hill all morning.”

Josh shrugged. “It was fine. They were all just asking about whether Jancowitz was going to sink the healthcare bill with his insistence on antagonizing what’s-his-name at the DOD.”

“Ah. Should we send someone to smooth that over?”

“Yeah, you can put Ainsley on it. I’m not too worried.” A problem for another day, then. Josh leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk in front of him. “It’s supposed to keep snowing all night.”

“They said that the last two times it snowed.”

“I think they’re right this time!” Josh protested, tapping the side of his head. “It’s my flawless intuition as an outdoorsman.”

Sam laughed. “At this rate, we could put you on the Weather Channel. You’d be just as accurate as all of those guys.”

“Mmm. With their track record, I could be their boss by next Tuesday.” He squinted at something for a minute before hopping up. “Well, I should probably go work on my thing before Leo has an aneurysm. I’ll come see you later about the environment?”

“Yeah, see you.” He sighed, staring down at the papers while Josh went back to his office. After a minute, he just shook his head and stood up, gathering them in his hands and retreating into his own office. Sam unceremoniously dumped the files onto a shelf, settling into his desk chair. They could be read another day.

Straightening his glasses, he popped open his laptop on the desk in front of him. He tried typing out some remarks for the President’s conference next week, but didn’t get very far. He wandered over to his email, and replied to a few people who had asked him questions.

I should write my dad, he thought absently. It had been a while since his last email. The thing was, thinking about his father in any capacity was Sure-fire Way To Ruin His Week Number Two.

It was...complicated. Sam had never had the best relationship with either of his parents to begin with. They had always been busy, and now he was always busy, and he supposed that it was possible he had lost far too many important things in his life due to people being busy. It didn’t even sound like a good excuse.

His mother was a brilliant, industrious woman who had grown up poor and worked so hard to get their little family off the ground that there was little else left of her now. At least, that was how he’d always felt. She’d always been so caught up in working to secure his future, and seemed to not have time for him in the meantime. Oh, she had tried, but she was always on a phone call or an extra shift and so it had usually just been him and his dad at the house when he was little.

It made his blood boil to think about it too long. Sam had never been close with his mother, but she had worked so hard and given up so much to keep them afloat. And this was how his father had repaid her? By...by...he couldn’t even put it into words. Learning about his father’s mistress had shook him to his core, and hadn’t stopped shaking it since.

Family had never been a very comforting concept to Sam, and after that particular revelation, even the romanticized ideal of it had come crumbling down around him. Family wasn’t supposed to be built on lies and absence and forced smiles. It was supposed to be solid and warm and loving, not shaky and volatile and brimming with hurt.

He could feel his heart clenching with anger and bitterness and grief over what-could-have-beens, and Sam hated being that person. Instead, he stared at the blank white void of the email draft in front of him, forcing himself to breathe deep. What are the others doing right now? he asked himself, his mind latching onto a distraction. Josh was probably working himself up over the environment issue- that, or getting lovingly screamed at by Leo. CJ had just finished a briefing, and was probably high-fiving Carol or bickering with Danny. Toby was most likely scribbling notes for the energy conference, half of which would be crumpled up in the wastebasket by now. Or on fire. Sam smiled to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hey,” came a cheery voice, and Sam looked up to find Donna in the doorway with a file tucked under her arm. “Any important government business going on in here?”

“Absolutely not,” he assured her, leaning back in his chair. “You need me for something?”

“Nothing pressing,” she replied with a shrug, brushing forward and hopping on top of his desk like she always did. “Toby and Josh are in CJ’s office watching the game if you want to join. ”

“Don’t they have work to do?” he mumbled petulantly.

“I really wouldn’t know,” Donna said with exaggerated innocence. She smirked at him. “But you look so sad and lonely in here, the least I could do was extend the invitation.”

“Hush, you,” Sam lamented, stretching absently. He looked down at his laptop and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I really should be working.”

“So should everyone else,” Donna pointed out. She slid off the desk and crossed her arms, giving him a look. “Sam? Hey, are you feeling okay? You look a little…”

Sam frowned, looking down at himself. “Disheveled?” he suggested, noting his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “That’s the word I was looking for. But, hey, are you really alright?” She leaned down to rub his shoulder. “You seem gloomy.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing. “Just a long day, I guess.”

Donna raised her eyebrows. “And do you know what the perfect antidote for a long day is?”

“Watching the game with Josh and Toby and CJ?” he guessed.

“Exactly!” Donna smiled, bonking him on the head with her file. “See you in five?”

Sam looked back at his email, thinking. If he mustered up the sheer willpower to write to his dad, he would have no idea what to say. And it wasn’t like his relatives in California were truly family, anyway. Not if all he associated with them were pain and disappointment. Maybe he could leave this email for later. Maybe he could watch football with his friends and chuckle at Toby and Josh shouting at the TV and rib CJ when she didn’t understand anything that was happening and forget about all of it, for a little while.

“Yeah,” Sam said, closing the lid to his computer. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

#tww #the west wing #west wing #sam seaborn #josh lyman #donna moss #tww fic #first time writing for tww so be nice pls #featuring: literally no plot #also featuring: me straight up making up things that sound government-y and official #also featuring: lots of platonic friendship moments #when you watched a scene in the show and thought #this would have been a perfect place for them to hug and/or touch foreheads etc etc #BUT THEY DONT!!! it’s maddening #so i write them myself<3 #anyway enjoy ~2k of extremely self indulgent sam character meta

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intomymindspace · 4 years

Text

Are You Bored Yet? ✰ Sawamura Daichi

Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows (ft. Clairo)

sawamura daichi x gn reader

Through the Summer and the Fall // Haikyuu!! Songfic Series

a/n: Hello hello! I didn’t expect this big of a response for my series and Asahi songfic, but thank you all for the support 🥺 as promised, I have delivered a hopefully good dadchi fic featuring just deadass a scene from Monthly Girl’s Nozaki-Kun because I just want a second season 😌 I hope you all have been doing well!! The next insert I will be posting will be with Iwa-chan 🥰 I also try to make my fics as gender neutral as possible! But sometimes I slip without noticing it, so if you see a she or her in there, please just let me know kindly and I shall fix it!

Warnings: maybe like really light angst? and just Suga being his matchmaking self as per usual~

Daichi stared at you from the sidelines as the team took a small water break before their post-practice stretch. The boys had been practicing since the morning because school wasn’t in session for the summer. Not to mention, the Star Festival was tonight - so Coach Ukai decided to let them out earlier than usual in the afternoon so they could join the festivities before sunset hit. Daichi was too late to react as your eyes met his, and his cheeks reddened slightly as he was caught staring at you. Noticing how red he had gotten, you jogged over and handed him his water bottle.

“Dai-san, you’re looking a little red. Are you okay?” He heard genuine concern in your voice, and he couldn't help but smile at your kindness.

“Yeah, just a bit tired since it's so hot, that's all.” Grabbing the bottle from your hands, he thanked you as he rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly.

“Is everything okay? You seemed a bit out of it today.” Daichi’s eyes widened at your question - but he wasn’t surprised by it. You could read him like an open book, but you were completely blind to his feelings for you.

“Everything’s fine! I’m fine. I guess I’ve just been thinking about tonight.” You smiled at him, taking the answer. You could tell something was bothering him, but you decided against pushing him for the actual answer for now.

"What's wrong?" you've been askin'

But I don't have an answer

While getting ready, you couldn’t help but think about Daichi - what was going on with him? You had been close friends with him since Suga introduced the two of you in your first year - and you knew almost everything about him. If Suga didn’t take first place in being your best friend, it would’ve been Daichi. Even though the both of you had only met almost three years ago, when you’re with him, it feels like you’ve known him forever. So why couldn’t you pinpoint why he was acting strange around you?

And why didn’t he want to tell you?

Sighing, you finished fixing your face and hair, giving yourself one last look in the mirror before putting on your yukata, your mom helping you perfect the obi across your waist. Promising her that you’d take lots of photos, you walked out your door and made your way to Suga’s house - you were neighbors and childhood friends after all. During the half-an-hour walk to the festival square, you took the initiative to ask Suga about Daichi’s mood - maybe he knew.

“Daichi-san has been acting weird? What makes you say that?” He asked, a light smile on his face.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think of it as a big issue until today. The past week, I just thought that maybe he was more tired than usual… but now, I feel like he’s just trying to avoid me - or at least, avoid talking to me.” Suga hummed in response. He saw the way you tried to hide the hurt look from showing in your eyes, a frown still creeping onto your face. He smirked at the phone call he had with his friend while getting ready.

How come, I'm still thinkin'

Let's pretend to fall asleep now

“Suga-san, what do I do?” He could feel the panic in Daichi’s voice. Rolling his eyes playfully, Suga answered the captain’s question.

“Baka, we’ve been talking about this for a whole month, Daichi-san.”

“That’s not the point! What happens if they reject me? That's literally three years of friendship down the drain because of me.” If they had been having this conversation face-to-face, Suga would’ve chopped him in the side so hard.

“First of all, what makes you think they’ll reject you?”

“Well - ” Suga cut him off.

“And second of all, why are you assuming they’re going to stop being your friend even if they do reject you? I didn't know you thought they were that shallow, Dai-san.” Suga smirked after he finished talking - he knew he had Daichi in checkmate.

“I - I don’t think they’re shallow! I just… Ugh! I hate that you’re always right.” He could practically see the annoyed look on Daichi’s face, making him giggle.

“I know. So are you going to confess to them tonight?”

“I - I don’t know.” The setter’s eyes formed slits as he squinted.

“If you don’t, I will tell them.” Suga was definitely lying - he wasn’t the type person (or friend, for that matter) to do that. While he was invested in the romantic lives of his friends and teammates, his dream being the ultimate matchmaker, he hoped that Daichi wouldn’t call his bluff. Luckily, the captain didn’t.

When we get old will we regret this

Too young to think about all that shit

“Perhaps you should ask him about it tonight. It’s better to just ask instead of letting the situation fester for longer.” He advised.

“Hmm, you’re right. Thank you Suga-kun.” He nodded at you, his smile lifting your mood. Now only if that damn Daichi would take his advice -

“What has got you so worked up about Daichi’s mood anyhow, if I may ask?” Your eyes widened at his question, not expecting it.

“Well, I - to be honest, I’m not really sure why. I just don’t like that I feel like he’s avoiding me.” That idiot, Suga thought.

“Why don’t you like that?” Suga pushed, interested in questioning you further. He always had the inklings of a hunch that you returned Daichi’s feelings, but you had never expressed it. It made him wonder if you maybe just hadn’t realized it.

“I don’t really know. Wouldn’t you be a little upset if your best friend started avoiding you? I guess I just don’t want to lose him.” There it was.

“Why?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

And stallin' only goes so far

When you've got a head start

“Why are you avoiding answering them?” You rolled your eyes at the playful smirk on his lips.

“I hate when you do this.”

“I’m only trying to help ~ but why don’t you want to lose him? And don’t tell me it's just because he’s your best friend. Besides me, of course.” He sent you a wink.

“Well…” Suga brought up a good point. Why were you so upset by it? Usually when Daichi had bad weeks, he acted the same - but he always told you what was wrong. “I don’t want to lose him because I care about him.” The both of you were walking down the river, nearing your destination. Suga said nothing as you collected your thoughts, the both of you stopping for a short while to stare at the river.

“He’s always there for me, you know? Like I know that you’re always there for me, and I love you. But with Dai-san… I feel like I just can’t pinpoint it and it frustrates me so much! All I know is that I want to be by his side for as long as possible.” Much to your surprise, the setter laughed, making your eyebrows scrunch in response.

“What?”

“God, you are so blind. It’s rather endearing, really.” You just glared at the silver-haired boy. “You’re in love with him, idiot.” Suga saw the way your eyes widened, the way your cheeks reddened, and the way your jaw slacked. He took your silence as a realization, and continued.

“Why don’t you spend time with Daichi tonight?” Your wide eyes met his.

“Like… alone? But - what about you? And Azu-san? And Nishin - ” you were cut off as he flicked your forehead.

“Don’t worry about us, silly. Take your time tonight and see him in this new light - it’s not like you haven’t been alone with him before. I’m just surprised you didn’t realize it sooner.”

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset

But I can't help from asking are you bored yet?

When the both of you met up with the other boys, you noticed the way your breath seemed to hitch in your chest when you laid eyes on Daichi - how long had you been blind to your own feelings? The captain was wearing a navy blue yukata, white outlines of waves, koi, and scales patterning the ends of his sleeves and at bottom half of the lower portion. He looked so handsome in the afternoon sun. The boys were preoccupied with one another, giving Daichi the opportunity to speak to you without the seemingly prying eyes of his nosey children teammates.

“How are you? I know I just saw you only a few hours ago, but - ”

“I’m doing good! I - how are you feeling, Dai-san?” He blushed at your question.

“I’m doing good too. Um - I think you look really good…” As the two of you trailed into an awkward conversation for the first time in the history of your friendship, Suga rolled his eyes as he eavesdropped on the two of you.

And if you're feelin' lonely you should tell me

Before this ends up as another memory

“Suga-san, is it just me, or are the two of them acting a bit weird?” While Asahi directed the question to his setter, the rest of the boys all thought it was a good idea to shut up and look at the two of you - to find both of you with blushes on your cheeks, Daichi with his hand rubbing the nape of his neck. Before Suga could answer, Nishinoya spoke up.

“Yeah, why aren’t they over here?” He began yelling. “Oi, Dai - ” Suga immediately chopped his kouhai on the head, shushing him. The vice-captain then glared at the rest of the second and first years.

“None of you will interrupt them, understand? And I mean the whole night. I’m trying to get them to confess to one another, and I don’t need any one of you idiots to ruin their chances!” Suga heard Tsukishima tsk.

“Lame. I thought they were already dating. Yamaguchi and I won’t be in your way.” On the other hand, Hinata had resorted to hitting Kageyama in shock, the blocker’s eyes wide and mouth on the floor. Asahi laughed as Suga folded his arms, making sure the others knew what to not do.

“I guess everything all makes a little more sense now.”

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

While the majority of the team hung out as a group, the boys made sure to leave the two of you with as much space as possible. At an origami tent, the boys were fooling around, attempting to make impossible shapes out of the paper. While you were deeply focused on folding a crane that would be hung as decor, Daichi paid attention to a poster hanging from the tent that explained the different meanings of origami folds and the different colors.

He kept running various situations through his head - all of them ending badly. What if you just wanted to be his friend? Should he ask you how you felt first? If you said something about how reliable he was of a friend, then he could just lie about how you were just his good friend too. Then he could mope and move on. He just wished you could tell him.

As you finished your crane, you looked up to find Daichi slipping his folding into a pocket. As his eyes met yours, a blush grew on your face. Had his doe eyes always been so mesmerising?

Feels like I've known you my whole life

I can see right through your lies

“I’m still a little hungry, and the sun looks like it’s starting to set. Do you want to get something else to eat?” He asked you, standing up from his seat. Nodding your head in response, you stood up and followed in step with him, the two of you leaving the comfortability of the team, finding yourselves lined up to buy dango. As you ordered, you were about to hand the vendor the yen when Daichi interrupted.

“Make that two please. Thank you!” He handed the vendor the appropriate amount of money before turning to you, a blush on his cheeks. “My treat, okay?” Unable to form words, you nodded as you waited for the dessert to be ready.

“Thank you for the dango, Dai-san. You didn’t have to.” You couldn't help the pink tint that was staining your cheeks as the two of you began to walk away.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s walk by the river before the fireworks, come on.” Daichi wasn’t sure if it was the sweetness in the dessert that gave him the confidence and energy, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the walkway.

You felt like your hand was on fire. You didn’t even know what to say! You were so taken aback by the way Daichi’s hand enveloped yours perfectly. You had almost forgotten about the dessert he bought you - you were too focused on admiring him. He looked so good in the light - the way the last golden rays hit his face and changed his eye color from a deep mocha to a honeyed gold. As his eyes suddenly met yours, Daichi couldn’t help but smile - there was something about holding your hand that made all his worries disappear. You returned his smile before quickly averting your gaze to watch the sun meet the horizon - you tried your best to distract yourself by eating the dango and staring into the landscape.

I don't know where we're goin'

But I'd like to be by your side

Daichi couldn’t help but stare at you as you watched the sunset. He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again as he watched the way your skin seemed to glow in the fading light. He blushed as he saw you take a bite out of your dessert - thinking about how he wished he could feel your just as sweet lips on his own. Finishing your last bite, you turned to find him still looking at you - not that you knew he never stopped.

“Daichi-san, what's wrong? Is there something on my face?” Immediately, Daichi’s eyes widened as he shook his head side to side rather adamantly.

“No, no! There’s nothing wrong.” There was an awkward silence as you two stared at one another, not really understanding what to do or what to say. But finally, he spoke up again. “The fireworks are going to start soon, should we find a better spot?” All you could do was nod as he tugged your hand and led you away.

Daichi weaved between the growing crowd until the two of you reached the children’s playground, which was seemingly empty. Motioning for you to climb onto the metal jungle gym, your eyes widened. Your mom had tied your obi rather tight - and your yukata was a lot more movement-restricting than his.

“Dai-san, I don’t think I’m going to be able to climb on it. We can get on the swings, though.” Shaking his head, Daichi replied. “Nonsense, I’ll help you.” The top of the metal bars just passed your head, so you were curious as to how he could help.

You weren’t expecting Daichi to grasp your waist with his hands, gripping your hips tightly and lifting you up with ease, allowing you to sit on the small platform the bars made. You were glad the sun was just about gone by this time - you knew your face was beet red, but you found yourself immediately missing the way his hands felt on you as you looked down at him. He climbed up easily, settling down next to you. It felt like such a long time before either of you talked.

If you could tell me how you're feelin'

Maybe we'd get through this undefeated

“Daichi-san,” you started, staring down at your hands as the brunette looked over at you, “What’s wrong?” You met his eyes, and his heart panged at the hurt look in your eyes.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wr - ” you cut him off.

“Can you just tell the truth? I don’t want to lie and keep on pretending like everything’s okay.” Daichi sighed, his eyes flitting around your face before staring at the now dark sky. He wished he could wait for the fireworks, but he knew you were expecting an answer.

“Aren’t you bored yet? Of being friends?” Your eyes grew wide at his questions, and you felt your heart shatter as tears began to fill your eyes. Of course - that's why he was acting so weird. Daichi didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He wanted to spend one last happy memory with you before he shut you out of his life. You turned away immediately before he could see the tears stream down your face.

Holdin' on for so long, oh

“Oh, I see.” You tried your best to remain calm, but your voice betrayed you as it wavered. Daichi’s eyes widened - you were crying because of what he said. Gently grabbing your hand, he quickly tried to explain himself, saying your name over and over again.

“No, no, no, that's not what I meant to say - I mean, I did mean to say that, but not in that way! Not - ” you cut him off again, looking at him once again. His heart broke as he looked at the tears that slowly fell down your face.

“Then what did you mean to say?”

“I… I meant to say… Ugh!” Daichi’s hands flew up to run through his hair in frustration before he turned back to you. He had to tell you now or never.

“I’m trying to tell you that I - ” the night sky lit up with fireworks of all colors and sizes, their booms filling the air, cancelling out what he was telling you. You couldn't even understand what words his lips were forming. You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

Daichi looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was ask a loud “what?” You hadn’t heard him. Sighing, a small smile coming to his lips - of course you didn’t hear him, the fireworks were so damn loud, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of you not hearing him. You looked so cute when you were confused too.

Leaning down, Daichi moved his head right next to yours - you shivered and turned red as you felt his breath tickle your ear. You heard him this time almost loud and clear, even when he spoke your name at a normal volume right in your ear.

“I don’t want to be just your friend. I love you.” Daichi pulled away just enough to look at your face. Your lips were parted, a surprised look on your face.

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset

But I can't help from asking are you bored yet?

“Dai-san…” You didn't even know what to say or what to do - his eyes were so mesmerizing, and you were so shocked by his confession that you couldn’t even tell him you felt the same way. Daichi smiled, knowing you like the back of his hand. He saw the way your pupils dilated and the heavy blush that rested on your cheeks. He definitely should’ve told you sooner.

Leaning in once again, his lips hovered just centimeters from yours - seeing if you would move way or not. When you didn’t move away after a few seconds, Daichi closed the gap between your lips, kissing you as gently yet as passionately as he could convey. It only took you a second to reciprocate, and your lips moved against his as the fireworks in the sky and in your heart exploded furiously. Pulling away so you both could catch your breaths, you made your confession.

And if you're feelin' lonely you should tell me

Before this ends up as another memory

“Daichi, I love you too.” His eyes widened at your confession and he cupped your face in both his hands, his thumbs tracing your jawline as he pulled you into a desperate kiss. One hand moved to pull your waist closer and your hands moved up to rest on his chest and at the nape of his neck. As his lips moulded with yours perfectly, Daichi wished the moment would last forever.

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie

Thank you for reading!!

~ Crystal 😌❤️

through the summer and the fall series masterlist

blog masterlist

buy me a ko-fi (but only if you can and want to)!

BONUS

The next day, the boys were surprised when you brought them freshly baked cookies as a treat for their lunch break. The excited first and second years eagerly thanked you as you each gave them two cookies. Daichi held a loving look in his eyes as he watched you from just a few meters away - and when your eyes met his, he gave you a smitten smile.

“I assume things worked out well? I never got a text from either of you last night.” Daichi turned to find Suga next to him, hand on his hip with a playful glare on his face. The captain’s smile only grew wider as his eyes wandered to look at you again.

“Yeah, they did.” But his mood immediately turned dark when Tanaka and Nishinoya started obsessing over you and the fact that you baked for them - their shouts and cries filling the gym.

“OI, TANAKA, NISHINOYA, BOKE! GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF MY LOVE!”

The captain didn’t hesitate to pull you away from the rowdy second years, everyone’s eyes wide open as Daichi held his most intimidating face. However, he immediately softened up and lost the face completely when you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“WOOOOHHHHHH! Senpai, you should kiss Daichi-san at practice more often! He’s way less scary!”

#daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi imagine #Daichi Sawamura imagine #Daichi reader insert #Daichi Sawamura reader insert #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #intomymindspace

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thebest-medicine · 4 years

Text

Distracted

Lore Olympus, Persephone / Hades, tickle fic/fluff, takes place during/directly after ep 112

A/N: I have fast pass and so I waited a million years to post this because I read ep 112 and HAD TO FCKING WRITE THIS OK impossible not to god I fucking love lore olympus AND I LOVE HOW MUCH HADES DRINKS RESPECTING WOMEN JUICE 🧃 GOD(S) DAMN. Also maybe it’s the fact that I color coded the dialogue so I had to edit this more thoroughly but this is one of my favorite things I’ve written in a long time and I just really fucking love this web comic and this pairing and this feels like it’d be on vibe and that makes me really happy ok? ok.

Summary: coda to ep 112, Persephone and Hades chat about what has happened in the past day or two and Hades comes up with a cute (i.e. ticklish) way to help distract Persephone when she is tired of feeling glum and worrying

Words: 2,495

(so... spoilers for 112, also 110 spoilers mentioned)

...

An hour ago, Hades wouldn’t have believed who was about to summon him. Had he known Persephone would have wanted his company, perhaps he’d have worn something other than sweatpants. But now, laying next to her in her own bed, he was happy to have comfortable clothes. At least something was comfortable. They needed to talk about what happened between them. He didn’t want to pressure her, she said she wasn’t feeling good, maybe it was because of him..?

“Can we.. talk about the kiss?”

“Y-Yeah...”

“Did you...not like it?”

“The kiss?”

“Yeah.”

He felt a tightness in his chest evaporate when he heard her words. “...I loved the kiss.”

Suddenly, he realized, everything was comfortable, how could it not be, around her. Hades nearly melted into the pillow. He told Persephone to tell him if she wanted him to leave, and of course he would respect her wishes, but he couldn’t think of anything more devastating than the thought of leaving where he was right now.

“Then.. why did you leave? What happened?”

“I guess I... really enjoyed the kiss and I... got.. excited...” She answered bashfully.

Relief - and he had to admit a bit of flattery too - washed over him. “Oooooh..”

“And then I.. felt scared of those feelings I was having. My body reacted in a way I didn’t expect.” She paused, turning to face him. “I’m sorry for leaving you...”

I wish you’d never leave me again. He caught himself thinking. Jesus, Hades, she’s her own person, relax. He chuckled to himself. God, she’s just so... sweet, and cute, and adorable, and gorgeous, and nice...

“And I’m sorry for being weird.”

He thought he might evaporate into an array of butterflies too when she turned herself fully toward him, letting her arm fall over his chest. When was the last time he just...cuddled?

“You’re not that weird...” Hades smiled. A black moth took shape above them in the bed. “See?”

Persephone’s smile softened the room as she giggled, bringing her fingers up to the moth where two small pink butterflies fluttered into existence next to Hades’ moth.

“Thank you.” Persephone sighed against his chest.

Hades tilted his chin towards her. “What for?”

“For coming..”

“You summoned me, to be fair.” He snorted, then taking her hand. “But you know, I’d- I’d come whenever you ask.”

Persephone gazed up at him, and he could see the smile in her eyes. “I appreciate it.. a lot. And thanks for... for listening. For staying. For being here. With me.” She wiggled closer to him, pressing herself against his side.

Hades realized he was holding his breath after she moved even closer. How could this be so- so nerve-wracking? She likes you too, you idiot, why are you so nervous? He counted to ten in his head and tried to stuff down the butterflies in his own chest, regain his composure, confidence..

“You said before that you.. didn’t feel good and were having trouble sleeping. Do you... want to talk about what else is bothering you?” Hades offered.

Persephone shrunk in on herself a bit, holding him tighter. “Not- not really.”

Hades couldn’t stop his face from falling a bit. He pulled her close. “That’s alright. If you ever do... I’m here to listen, Kore.”

An idea popped into his head. “If you don’t want to talk about it.. Would you rather be... distracted? Comforted? Held? Or... Want me to just shut up?” He grinned at her. “What do you need?” He squeezed her hand tighter.

“Um..” Persephone thought aloud. “Hmm.. actually.. Distracted...sounds pretty good! I’m not exactly sleepy.” She stifled a yawn into her palm.

“I actually have something in mind that might help you with that.” Hades smirked at her.

Persephone’s eyes widened a little at him. “Um-” She hesitated.

“Oh not- not like-”Hades smacked his own forehead, a blue blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m not- that’s not what I meant! I swear I’m trying to bring my scoundrel level down!” He laughed. “What am I at now by the way?”

“Hmm, well I would have said maybe...15%, but- but that number depends on whatever you say next!” Persephone raised an eyebrow at him.

“15%? Nice, I’ve gone down!” Hades grinned joyfully. “My number might go up after this but..... only a little bit.” He paused sheepishly. “I hope!”

Persephone propped herself onto her elbows on his chest. “Well, now I’m curious, what’s your big idea?”

“I just want to ask you a question.” Hades started, shrugging innocently. “I think it’ll be pretty distracting.”

“... Okay.” Persephone agreed.

“Are you ticklish?” Hades couldn’t keep the smirk out of his voice.

Persephone stiffened up in his arms. “N-” She started to make a noise but stopped when he looked down at her.

She was blushing even more pink than usual, a goofy, nervous smile on her face. “I- I-” She couldn’t make eye contact with him

She had been in many a tickle fight with the flower nymphs she played with back home in the mortal realm. Was there any answer, though, that wouldn’t end with the same result? He’s gonna test it out...

She felt him slowly shifting himself into a better position to do just that, one of his hands was crawling slowly toward her side.

When words finally came to her, just as Hades was about to find out regardless of what she said, all she answered was, “Are you?”

She always fucking surprises me. Hades thought to himself as a blush grew on his cheeks. How does she do that? I was in control a second ago, wasn’t I? He chuckled. “Well, I’m.. not, I- I don’t think..” That definitely didn’t sound convincing.

“!! YOU DON’T THINK?” Persephone practically shouted, a bright smile on her face as she stared at him with giddy disbelief. “YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?” She was almost embarrassed by how excited she knew she sounded.

Hades rolled his eyes. “I mean... who exactly do you think is going to be tickling the King of the Underworld?” Hades laughed at the thought.

“ME!” Persephone couldn’t help herself.

Hades could think of a few times as a child that he’d been tickled by Rhea or the other gods because of how serious he always was, and they figured somebody needed to put a smile on his face, right? Maybe a handful of teasing pokes from Hera or an accidental brush or two of fingers from Minthe that surprised him by how sensitive it was, but none of that was ANYTHING like what Persephone’s fingers were doing to his side.

She was leaning over him, five fingers digging into each side of him, her thumbs pressing between the muscles on the sides of his abdomen while her fingers squeezed around the back of his sides sporadically. She wiggled her fingers up toward his ribs and used her nails to dig in a bit between the bones.

Hades already had a hard time keeping any kind of guard up with her, so it was only a matter of seconds before she had him laughing. “Ohmygods- Kore st-stahahahop!”

“YOU ARE TICKLISH!!” She nearly had stars in her eyes. He was more adorable in that moment than any of his dogs (but she would never tell them that) even Pomelia.

Hades hadn’t laughed like that in.... he didn’t know if ever. Somehow in 2 weeks, she brought out things - feelings, situations... that he never in thousands of years even dreamed of finding himself in.

“Persephoneheheehhehehehe-” Hades giggled helplessly as he squirmed on her bed. His arms wrapped around her but he didn’t actively stop her. He didn’t want to push her away, and he ESPECIALLY didn’t want to hurt her. Hades would probably rip the head off of anyone else who made him feel so... vulnerable and silly, but with Kore it felt right. Even if she might be torturing him a little bit. This kind of torture was far better than the torture he felt trying to be away from her.

“I- I can’t believe...” Persephone squealed. “You’re...You’re...so cute!!!!!” She stopped tickling him with one hand to cover her face. Both of them had fire in their cheeks.

Hades took advantage of her slowing down her tickle attack and grabbed her tickling hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “Okay, okay- Stahahop- I- nobody has ever- I’ve never been tickled like that-” Hades calmed himself through his residual giggles as he pulled the Goddess of Spring against his chest, wrapping his other arm around her.

“Hehehehehe.” Persephone snickered, twirling her free hand’s fingers against his neck and under his chin. He flinched away. “You’re ticklish.”

“You’re lucky.”

“You’re ticklish.”

“Anyone else who tried that would be dead.”

“And you’re ticklish.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re very ticklish.”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Okay fine... maybe.”

“Where else are you ticklish? Your feet? Your knees? I didn’t even get to try under your arms...” Persephone noted.

“I don’t like where this is going...” Or maybe I do? Hades laughed hesitantly. “Anyway... weren’t we- weren’t we supposed to be talking about where you are ticklish?”

Persephone, a sudden bolt of confidence shooting through her, declared. “I’m not. I never said I was.”

Hades, almost disappointed for a moment, narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t buy that shit for a second.”

Persephone’s confident smile faltered.

“So let’s just see about that!” Hades continued, suddenly using the hand that was already holding hers to try to also grab her other wrist. She squirmed enough that he could only keep her one arm pinned, so he just started anyway. His free hand, instead of holding her to his chest, started pinching just above her hip on her side. “Are you ticklish here?”

“Nohohohoho-” Persephone cackled.

“No? You sound kinda ticklish..”

“I’M NAHAHAHHA-NOT!” Persephone insisted, squirming wildly and trying to somehow smack his hand away.

That only encouraged Hades to keep trying more places. “Okay, then..let’s see where else you’re not ticklish.”

Persephone practically screamed.

“You do realize Artemis is here, right?” Hades teased. “How much trouble do you think you’d get in...” He latched onto the side of her rib cage and squeezed mercilessly, making Kore wriggle madly in the bed, rolling around and practically falling off trying to get away. “If you laughed, or you screamed, so loud you woke her up?”

Persephone turned her face into the pillow, rolling herself face down on the bed. Hades let go of her hand and rolled up onto his knees, hovering over her as he continued teasing her.

“Artemis would charge in here, arrows notched, ready to help poor, sweet Kore who screamed for help.”

Hades, caught up in the moment, climbed over her, straddling the back of her hips. He was so concerned with properly tickling her that he didn’t even have time to appreciate that he was sitting directly behind her butt. His two hands wiggled their fingers under the edges of her sides and began to tickle, first in the same spots, then slowly down toward her hips and up toward her ribs.

“And then she’d see this, the Goddess of Spring, giggling helplessly underneath a King, in her bed, in her room, in the middle of the night.” Hades laughed at the scene.

“I mean, what would she think of us?”

Persephone grabbed at his wrists uselessly as Hades tickled along her midsection. She definitely did not see the night going this way. “H-Hades ohmygohaahhaHAHAHAHAHA- plehehehease!” Persephone’s laughter got even more desperate when he started pinching her lower ribs.

Hades leaned down, practically next to her ear. “You’d better be quiet...” He warned as she cackled into the pillow.

“Though.. I don’t know, you’re already in a lot of trouble.” He winked, not that she could even see it, laughing her head off face down. Two fingers on each side latched onto the space just in front of her hip bones and started squeezing.

“100! HAHAHA- 100% SCOUNDREL!! HAAHHA PLEASE BASHSHAHA HADEHEHEHEES- st-stoppit!” Persephone wheezed, pounding her fists against the bed.

The way she giggled out his name.. he was the one in trouble.

“Calling me a scoundrel, while you might be right, given the situation, still doesn’t seem like the best way to get yourself out of it, now does it?” Hades teased.

As he kept going, tickling upward, he noticed Persephone wouldn’t move her arms from her upper sides/ribs so he decided to try her underarms out another time. There would definitely have to be more of this. A lot more.

“I wanna try one more spot, and then I’ll stop, alright?” Hades offered, slowing down his tickling a bit to just lightly scribbling his fingers over her back, shoulder blades, and sides.

“OMG! I ahahahaha - I was nice to you! I- I stopped!” Persephone tried.

“That’s ‘cause I stopped you.” Hades corrected her. He slowed down his tickling on her sides and ribs, shifting himself so he was facing her legs now. “And Kore, here’s the other thing..”

Persephone grabbed the pillow she was laughing into, wrapping her arms around it.

“I think you.. also could, very easily, stop me right now.” Hades grabbed ahold of her ankles and pulled them up close to his chest. “If you wanted to.”

Persephone was grateful the laughter and the pillow were there to hide her blush. Alright well, maybe he’s right, maybe this was a great distraction... and.... maybe she was having fun.

They both noted how she didn’t answer.

Hades kept a tight grip on her ankles with one hand while the other’s fingers spidered and wriggled all over her soles, between her toes, over the tops of her feet even. It didn’t last more than probably 45 seconds, but Hades was actually beginning to worry a little about waking Artemis up with all this giggling.

When he finally did stop, he noticed pink petals strewn around the room.

He slid off of her, swallowing down the nervous feeling that gripped him when he remembered he had just been literally straddling her. He inched back to his side of the bed.

He glanced away sheepishly, a palm to his neck. “Uh- s-sorry if I got a little carried away..”

Persephone pulled her face out of the pillow, a giggly, warm, almost teary-eyed smile upon it. “Don’t worry about it.” She assured him. “I- you- uh, I didn’t mind.” She giggled.

“Well good because, that was really cute.” The words somehow pushed through his brain and out of his mouth and he admitted, laying down once again and pulling her back toward his chest. “Next time, don’t lie to me though.”

“Lie?” Persephone gave him a weird look for a moment.

“You said you weren’t ticklish.” Hades laughed.

Persephone snorted and rolled her eyes. “So did you.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Touché.” Hades kissed her forehead.

Kore kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his chest and pulling herself even closer. “Thanks for distracting me.”

“Anytime.”

239 notes · View notes

thatwriterkei · 4 years

Text

Dreaming of You.

°A/N; Sorry it's so long!! 😅❤️

•Summary: In which, Y/N invites the whole gang over to her place for a sleepover.

•Warnings: FLUFF, and some cursing as well

*MASTERLIST*

________________

Y/N's home wasn't the cleanest in the world. The place had a few documents and bills lying around that belonged to her parents, from the kitchen counters to the coffee table in the living room, but still clean as it was going to get. Her room though was a completely different story.

There were clothes strung along her dresser and windowsill, her comforter wrinkled and tossed around from waking up in a frenzy a couple of times; She slept through her alarms. It wasn't too trashy..Just covered in piles of dirty dishes she was too lazy to bring down to the kitchen sink. It's not her fault hot pockets are the most enjoyable meal while in bed...At 2 in the morning on a school night while you're trying to write a last minute English paper. It didn't matter though because today was the day she would finally spiff it up. Mainly because her friends would be arriving in two hours. That isn't a lot of time, huh?

After years and years of knowing MJ, Peter and Ned, not once did their sleepovers and late night study sessions occur in the comfort of her room. It didn't bother the group, but it was quite a surprise when Y/N offered to host a sleepover the following day.

Now it was Saturday and with all the homework she was given from her teachers, Y/N nearly forgot about the sleepover she arranged. Sure the snacks, drinks and movies were all set up and ready to go but definitely not the space they would be using.

She tossed the strayed dirty clothes into the nearby hamper, giving herself a mental note to start a wash the following day.

By the time it was six o'clock, her room was squeaky clean with a few appliances lingering around that was used to tidy the room. Once those were put away in the hallway closet, she heard a doorbell ring followed by some chatter near the front door that belonged to her mother's and a familiar female voice. Y/N peaked around from the hallway upstairs to see who it was and, sure enough, it was MJ. To be truthful, Y/N expected her to arrive on the dot so it wasn't too much of a shocker. She quickly ran down the stairs to greet the brunette.

"If it isn't Michelle Jones! Back again to torture me?" Y/N teased.

"The only thing I'm going to torture you with tonight is confessing to Peter and how you like him sooo much." The corners of MJ's lips curved into a small cocky smirk.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Y/N punched the girl's upper arm with such feebleness it almost tickled.

"Hey, don't say that too loudly! My parents could hear and, my god, I don't need more people teasing me about how obvilous my crush is on him. Even I'm surprised he hasn't found out!"

While she spoke, the pair walked upstairs to Y/N's sparkling room.

"I mean he's stupid for not realizing it but you're also dumb for not confessing so, really it's on you. Just tell him when he comes over tonight, easy as that."

Y/N slumped on her freshly made bed with a soft groan. "There's no way in hell I'm doing that! I swear, sometimes you just want to see me suffer."

"I wouldn't say suffer..More like, tolerating situations with consequences."

She lifted her head with a raised eyebrow, "That's basically the same thing!"

After chatting for another 15 minutes about random topics that came up, the doorbell rang again. Soon enough, her mother sent up the two excited boys. Ned bursted into Y/N's room without knocking while Peter looked around eagerly. No, this wasn't the first time he entered a girl's room but it would be funny if it was.

"Geez, ever heard of knocking?" MJ commented, her previous smile being replaced with a slightly annoyed look.

"Yes, but I didn't think it was necessary." Ned quickly retorted, taking a seat at one of the two bean bags Y/N had in her room. MJ was sitting in the other one.

"You mind if I sit here?"

It seemed as though Peter was the only polite one in this scenario.

Y/N's cheeks flushed to a red shade and her heart skipped a beat. She felt her heart rate quickening each moment that passed while their eyes stayed connected.

"Of course I don't mind, silly! Sit back and relax, you're on Y/N's property now. No worries for anybody, except me. Speaking of which, I'll get those pizza rolls in the oven! MJ, come with me please?" The look in her eyes showed that MJ didn't have a choice to come with Y/N or not.

The two girls left without another word spoken, only the sound of footsteps running down the stairs as they made their way to the empty kitchen.

Her parents stayed in their room for the time being, watching god knows what but they sure spent most of their time in there. Y/N didn't want to think about it though. She was freaking out way too much about how innocent and cute the look on Peter's face was when he asked her.

"Oh my god, did you see him? His eyes, they were so freaking adorable! And his smile, I swear it's brighter than a full moon."

MJ quirked an eyebrow. "And I swear you're about to give me a headache with all this mushy gushy romance stuff."

Y/N grabbed the bag of pizza roles from the freezer while MJ pulled out a silver tray.

"Oh c'mon, you can't internally gag at that. Did you not see how he was the only polite one? Clearly he's nicer than you and Ned."

"And yet, who do you share your utmost dreams and fantasies about him with?" MJ's lips formed a smirk again.

"My diary." Y/N replied with a deadpanned expression on her face.

Meanwhile, Ned was nearly doubling over in laughter after the girls left. Peter was panicking just a little bit.

"Shit, did I say something wrong? I just made a fool of myself, didn't I?"

Ned eventually caught his breath from laughing so passionately. "Oh my god. Stop being so dramatic and man up. She was probably just gushing over you because you're literally on her bed! Do you know how close you two are? You're practically dating already."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Be quiet, or she might hear you! Besides, I highly doubt she holds any real deep feelings for me. I'm going to be in the friend zone forever, Ned."

He flopped back on the bed, a dreamy sigh escaping his lips.

"I just want to tell her how much I like her, but she deserves to be loved by somebody who is dashing, compassionate, and compliments her beauty. Somebody who is able to spoil the hell out of her because she just deserves it. I'm not saying that I couldn't fulfill that role but she most likely isn't interested in-"

MJ walked through the door, trying to stifle a small chuckle after overhearing part of the conversation. "And who isn't interested in whom?"

"Huh? What're we talking about?" Y/N arrived momentarily after, holding two plate fulls of fresh, piping hot pizza rolls.

"Nothing, nothing!! Yum, pizza rolls! Thanks Madame Y/N!" Peter steered the conversation away and shoved a roll into his mouth. He immediately regretted it.

It took everything in Y/N's power to not drop the plates. "Oh my god, Peter!! You dumb dumb, it just came out of the oven!"

She set them down on the bed beside Peter, shaking her head disappointedly at the pouting male. "Do you want some ice cream? It's a little too early to have some since the movies haven't started but I can get you a drink instead?"

Then one thing after another happened and the group finally settled with MJ and Ned on the comfy dark bags and the adorable lovebirds on Y/N's bed. The group of friends were currently engrossed in Shrek with the occasional laughter filled the room.

Y/N was the only one beginning to doze off. Her body desperately yearned for something cozy to snuggle into. The closest thing to her was none other than Peter.

Peter felt the weight of Y/N's head land on his right shoulder and her arms snake around his torso. This wouldn't be the first time they bundled together, but the fluttery feeling they got in their chests didn't go unnoticed by their intertwined hearts.

Peter shifted in his position to lay both of them down. The bed creaked a little but, luckily, Y/N didn't awaken. He inhaled some, her faint perfume making its way through his nostrils. To Peter, Y/N felt like home. A place where he didn't feel judgement, only kindness and support. He enjoyed her presence, and as did she with him.

By the time the movie had ended, the two had fallen asleep with their legs tangled together. MJ and Ned noticed this, and boy did they go crazy with photos. Eventually, they went to bed as well after MJ went in search for some blankets and pillows.

At around five in the morning, Y/N quietly murmured in her sleep. "Mm..Peter..No..Don't leave..I need some more...Cuddles. Please? Thank you."

Peter began to wake up due to her soft chatter, but he vaguely remembered hearing her say his name.

"Huh? What was that, Y/N/N?" He asked in a drowsy tone. The bed dipped a little when Peter attempted to pull back from her tight grasp around his waist.

"Stop moving, Pete." She grumbled, snuggling herself closer to his chest.

He chuckled at her protests, grazing his thumb against her soft cheeks. "Sorry.. What're you dreaming about?"

"Dreaming of you.." Y/N mumbled.

"Y-You are?" He hesitated, "You know..I really like you. I'm not sure how to explain my feelings for you, but I do know that you're incredibly beautiful inside and out. And the goofy smile you always have own your face is just adorable. You care for everybody, and I admire that. I deeply admire you.."

Y/N lifted her head, staring up at the curly haired boy in awe. "You like me?"

"Shit, I thought you were dreaming about me!"

"What?! How did you know?"

MJ's voice cut through their conversation. "Will you two go back to sleeping and cuddling each other? Sheesh."

Now recovering from her drowsy state, Y/N's cheeks turned to a faint rosy shade. "I really like you too.."

"I'm so glad. I was about to lose my mind.." He chuckled a little, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

The two returned to resting, now especially easier; With their heart beats in sync and souls intertwined.

________________

@peterspideyy @har-rison-s @peeterparkr @parkershoodie @givelove-always @waitimcomingtoo @dedeimagines @that-one-eggo-child

#peter #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #into the spider verse #spidey #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #blurbs #blurb #spiderman blurb #peter parker blurb

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Note

That whole denying them bc of race or career issues is a really good angst prompt...just saying👀👀

a/n; this was way past due so I hope my precious bby forgives me <3 @crocsonkrocsjams (based on her)

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. || 𝐡.𝐤

─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞? 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

he rushed through the streets like a madman, coddling snacks in his hand while trying to shield his face. no, it wasn’t cold outside.

heuning kai just didn’t want to be seen.

it was already late in the night, he snuck out of the hotel rooms and who knew where the saesangs were hiding. they could’ve jumped out of a bush and snapped his picture in a heartbeat. but kai was determined to get to her house and he refused to deny the fact that he was thinking about her all day.

throughout the whole world tour even, He’d been anticipating touring the United States for this very reason. The goodnight and good morning texts, flirty messages and emojis just weren’t enough. He couldn’t wait to see her and he hasn’t seen her since the last time Tomorrow by Together toured the US.

and that was years ago.

he quickly fixed himself up a bit and made his way up her apartment stairs with his heart thumping obnoxiously in his chest. he didn’t wear anything too fancy, an oversized hoodie with baggy jeans and sneakers maybe, but that was just how their relationship was. they never had to dress up for one another.

finally making it to her door he knocks softly. kai’s mind ran wild. he was almost shaking with anticipation until she finally unlocks the door. his smile was wide and he hugged her gratefully. and she looked just as beautiful since he last saw her. deep sea green eyes, almond colored skin and gorgeous fluffed brown hair.

hesitantly but surely she hugged him back. she couldn’t deny the fact that she was happy to see him.

“kaia,”. he started, “you look so pretty”. he complimented while towering over her thick five foot five frame. she was wearing a black graphic band t-shirt and some simple spandex shorts. just something comfy for the night since she normally slept naked. but none of that would be happening while kai was around at least.

she mutters a small thank you while he takes his jacket off.

“why are you acting so shy? you didn’t miss me?”. kai teases.

“of course I missed you. How was the show?”.

“it was nice you should’ve came”.

she rolls her eyes playfully, “you know damn well I’m not getting caught up with you and your crazy fans”.

kai laughs while swiping his thumb over her cheek softly. “aren’t you my fan too?”.

she stifles a blush. in a way she hated how flirty kai was but loved it all at once. she smiles instead, “what snacks did you get us?”.

“all of your favorites. I got those hot chips you like from the corner store down the street”.

she furrows a brow, “corner store?”.

“yeah”.

“you went to the corner store by yourself at this time of night? why didn’t you tell me I would’ve came with you”.

he pinches her doughy cheeks as if she were a child. “aw was my little baby worried sick? i’m a big boy I can handle a corner store at 2am”.

“oh yeah? and what if someone tries to rob you? what’s your next move?”.

kai sucks his teeth and walks to plop himself down on the living room couch. “as long as they don’t rob me of your love!”. kai shouts in the cringiest voice possible. she laughs, “kai!”.

“then I’m fine!”. he continues like the silly boy he was. “seriously if you don’t hurry over here I’m stealing your honeybun”. he threatens while digging through the white plastic bag for it. she rushes behind the couch to try and snatch it from his hands but nevertheless kai moves away from her instead.

“kai you better not!”. she shrieks playfully and kai laugh hysterically, “oh! is this hot cheetos too?”. she makes her way to the other side of the couch to try and snatch it from his hands that way but no matter what he’d always raise the bag higher, away from her short arm’s reach.

“come on kai give it back”. she reaches desperately, not realizing that kai had her right where he wanted her.

“give me a kiss and I’ll give it back”. he grins.

she laughs, “boy! give me my snacks back”.

he puckers his lips while grabbing her body and wrestling her to the floor. “please kaia please please please give me a kiss!”. he whines into the crook of her neck. she yelps at the sudden shift in positions.

“why am I on the floor?”.

“because you’re being mean to me”.

“you’re the one holding my food hostage”.

he shadows his lips over hers suddenly making her heart thump. it isn’t like she hadn’t kissed him before but she always got the same spark whenever she did almost as if she first met him.

“just one?”. he raises the intonation in a question like manner without really asking a question, he just went for it.

he sparked the flame between them both layering his delicate lips on hers with his arms caging her body. as soon as she felt his lips she hated how she instantly thought about when he’d be going back. when it was time for him to leave and go back to korea leaving her lonely once again. so for that very reason she kisses him harder hoping it would be enough to suppress the emotions she felt in his absence.

kai raises her chin a little deepening the kiss loathing in the softness of her lips and the unyielding love that ran through his veins. if the boys found out where kai was he’d be a dead man. but it was anything for her. absolutely anything. he caresses her cheeks, unapologetically using his tongue whenever he got the chance.

her stomach churned beneath him. she was nervous and kai was eager. sometimes she felt so out of place. what was kai doing being with someone like her? kissing her? loving her?

was it worth it?

she falters. kai detaches his lips from hers slowly and carefully wondering what was wrong. he kind of already had an idea though.

“you know I love you, right?”.

she nods, “I know kai. and that’s the problem”.

“why is it a problem?”.

“was it a hassle to get here? don’t you ever get tired of hiding?”.

kai shakes his head, “it’s not that I’m hiding it’s just--”.

“you’re hiding me? right?”.

“what are you talking about baby? where’s all this coming from?”.

“I don’t want to be the one that ruins your career kai. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself”.

“you’re not ruining my career. Idols date all the time so what?”.

“yeah sure, idols date all the time. but they don’t date black or brown people kai”.

“why are you making it about race? you know I don’t care about what color you are”.

“but the media does”.

“so?”.

“so what do you think that means for you? you’ll get shitted on by the media, you’ll get lectured and in trouble by Bighit-- i don’t want any of that to happen”.

kai sighs and intertwines his fingers with hers, kissing the back of her hand.

“we’ll be fine I promise”.

“but for how long? it’s only a matter of time before you get caught”.

“why are you being like this? when we first started dating we talked about this and we both decided that we didn’t care about what anyone has to say about us”.

“well I care now kai. your group is getting more known which only makes you a bigger target. you’re their maknae, the baby, the innocent boy who does no wrong. this type of shit can tear your image down beyond repair”.

“i don’t care about any of that”.

“how? you worked hard to get where you are didn’t you? not every teenage boy with a passion for singing and dancing get to debut under one of the biggest companies in korea”.

“why do you care so much? do you not want to be with me or something?”.

“kai I love you but I’m not worth it. who am I? just a black/mexican girl living in this small town-no one knows my name, I’m not rich, I get lonely sometimes, I’m bigger than most girls---”.

“i don’t care about that stuff so stop it. why are you belittling yourself like that?”.

“because why do you even love me kai? what is it? am I ‘exotic’ to you? are you using me to make yourself seem more open minded? Am I one of many colored girls that you mess with while you’re touring?”.

“stop fucking talking like that. you know none of that is true”.

“I don’t think we should keep continuing this”.

kai could feel his heart shatter at the sound of her words. “what?”.

“I don’t know about this relationship anymore”.

he searches in her eyes desperately trying to find a clue. “what don’t you know about it? we love each other so we should be together no matter what anyone has to say”.

“not at the expense of your career. maybe, maybe someday we can make this work but definitely not now”.

kai swallows the lump in his throat, “so that’s it? you’re not even going to fight for us? after everything?”.

she shakes her head. “not right now kai. just not right now”. she mumbles meekly. kai could feel the fresh hot tears well into his eyes. he was angry and confused but most importantly he was blinded by love. he couldn’t believe she was willing to throw away everything they built just to protect his image. especially when he didn’t even care.

he got up from the floor and slid his jacket back over his shoulders trying to hide his tears and frustration as best as he could. as bad as she felt in her heart she felt like it was the right thing to do. either this, or she was going to have to face the harsh treatment from the public when they found out their precious heuning kai was dating a brown girl.

but even her own heart broke at the sight of kai’s tears.

“I’m only trying to protect you kai”.

halfway out of the door already he sniffled before he replied, “protect me or protect yourself?”.

“kai i’m sorr--”.

“no. I’m sorry for thinking that you loved me just as much as i loved you. thinking maybe you’d be fearless for me just as fearless as I am for you. you think I care that you’re black kaia? do you think that I care that you’re from a town in the middle of nowhere, that no one really knows who you are, that you’re thicker than most girls and look nothing like the girl idols you see on tv? I don’t care about any of that shit. you’re beautiful and you have a heart made of gold and that’s all that matters to me. you love me so perfectly. you love me how I want to be loved and that’s what I love about you. you think you’re just a worthless being but--

but I love you because you’re so much more than that”.

#heuning kai #angst #kai drabble #heuning kai drabble

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- The Tale of the Three Brothers

James flipped to the last story with nostalgia, this had been his absolute favorite when he was younger, and he couldn't wait to tell Harry about it and watch him understand why.

As he read the title though, Harry felt that flash through his mind, a squirm through his innards. An understanding he still had no knowledge of, why this story must be what had caught his eye to begin with, what on earth it all could mean...

There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across.

Even as James began the feeling only intensified, though oddly Harry's vision swam double for a moment and he was sure it should be Hermione reading this to him, in a much different place...but it was all gone the moment he tried to latch onto it, and instead he settled back in his seat and tried to listen with the same attentiveness he had all the other silly tales.

However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them.

Lily did a double take in surprise, and Harry's eyes popped, causing the other three to laugh, but the shock passed quickly. This really wasn't any more weird than any other things going on with these novels.

He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

"Why aren't we ever awarded for doing shit?" Sirius sighed.

"Eventually the teachers would run out of rewards and circle back to punishment anyways, I suppose they just skipped ahead," Remus shrugged.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Harry couldn't help it, shifting his weight around more and more, a burn he'd been peacefully lacking while not having to relearn his old memories sadly paining him now again over something clearly so stupid. He clenched his shaking hand tight and resisted the impulse with all his might not to clutch at his aching head again, just concentrated on his dads voice.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

His feeling only growing worse by the second, somehow James trying to read in a goofy lighthearted tone contrasting heavily with a deep echo of words he knew his father also once saying to him...

The others noticed of course, but Harry looking so pained over something like this they had no clue of was sadly nothing new. So Lily placed her arm gently around his shoulders and waited as long as he needed to take a moment to breath again before nodding at James, who was monstrously disappointed something they'd thought Harry would just simply enjoy for once was still actually causing him pain.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death.

'The third brother...' this more than the others resonated with Harry, even as he kept rubbing at his forehead with pain he latched onto anything his mind could make sense of. He had not a clue why remembering this was hurting him so, as painful as if he were trying to remember something before it happened to him again, but thankfully like before so long as he didn't force the feeling it began to ebb.

James glanced hopefully at Harry and kept going with that same excitement, glad to see whatever Harry was struggling with he was fighting off, this was his favorite part!

So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

"You have got to be kidding me," Lily said in exasperation, actually eyeing James like she worried he was making this up as he went along. Knowing her husband, it wasn't even that crazy.

"Nope," James insisted, popping the P for emphasis even as he kept his eyes on Harry while still addressing Lily. "My dad read this story to me all the time when I was little, loved to go on about how this was where my Cloak came from."

Lily had honestly never thought why James cloak worked the way it had, he'd only shown it to her in the last year and by that time he had no real use for it. She'd had other things on her mind

when he'd showed it to her, like realizing one of her friends was a werewolf, so she'd never questioned too deeply his declaration it had been in his family for generations.

Now though, she raised a skeptical brow at him and demanded, "and you really think your Cloak came from the manifestation of Death?"

"Nah," he brushed off, a bit disappointed it wasn't Harry going along, but at least it was clear he was listening with his head tilted towards them even as he kept flattening his hair and clearly trying to repress rubbing his scar more. "I don't think my dad really did either, most of us have just come to the conclusion someone along the line made it but lost the record of how they did. Now it's just more of a family secret. Still fun how it somehow made it's way into a kids novel, maybe even where the original idea of creating it came from, so technically..." he trailed off with a still superior little smile no one acknowledged. His friends had heard all this too many times and just yawned when he looked over, and he pouted before continuing.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, he sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel.

Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed.

Harry's mind wanted to seize painfully on this, talk of the Elder Wand had cropped up once in here already, but he was instantly distracted by the others once more.

"I always wonder how much of that is just confidence," Remus couldn't help but scoff. "It really does wonders, and then his boasting just caused this tail to begin with."

"Bragging only takes you so far until you have to prove it," Sirius disagreed, his eyes gleaming with want.

When it was clear they had no more to say on it than before though, he tried desperately to ignore his disappointment and continued headache.

Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.

"Charming," Lily crinkled her nose in disgust.

And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared at once before him.

Harry could not seem to settle during this story, shifting anxiously more every second, now twirling his ring around in unease as if some part of him knew to be worried abut this. At least he did know why his eyes lingered on his parents now, what he would have given for that stone some point before all this- then his mind went blank with another snap of pain and he just shook his head miserably for his brain never working properly.

Yet she was silent and cold, separated from him as though by a veil.

All of them flinched heavily at that description, none appreciating the reminder.

Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.

Lily tightened her hold on her son, feeling the urge to be sick at still seeing that lingering look of longing in place. She disliked this one most of all for that line alone, why was that in a story for kids?!

And so Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.

James declared this with contentment, his eyes lingering on his child more than the words now as he finished. His infant sat in his godfathers lap, gurgling happily, and it still gave the father comfort that no matter his child's future, his heirloom would still hold.

And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.

"Wow, I think that was the shortest one yet," Lily crinkled her brow in fascination. She wasn't even sure where the moral in that one was. After mulling it over for a moment while the boys all declared which object they'd pick, James and Remus the cloak and Sirius the wand, she interrupted Harry, "what exactly is the point of including that one?"

"Oh come on Lily, not everything needs to have a point," James sighed. "It's a fun novelty, gives kids a chance to dream of some cool objects one day."

"I actually have a fond memory of me and Regulus on a 'quest,' looking for these," Sirius smiled reminiscently. "Of course it ended with us nabbing our fathers wand and being grounded for a week, but it was fun for an hour or two."

"So you guys don't believe they're real?" Harry interrupted, causing them all to look at him in surprise.

"Well," James began slowly, weary of the intensity with which Harry had asked. "Like I said, my cloak, I think anyways, was built from this myth as far back as my family tree will trace, yet it doesn't mean Death gave it to someone so long ago. So there's really no proof the others don't exist-"

"But there's no more proof they do either," Remus shook his head with such exasperated skepticism Harry could already feel they'd had this argument long before. "This Stone sounds like another idea of the Philosophers Stone, and though that was once made, the recipe for that is as lost as James' cloak, or at least, Flamel and Dumbledore certainly aren't sharing; so it's existence is still nothing but questionable."

"The wand is all about how you read your history," Sirius quickly tacked in before Moony could go off again on more theory's. "People have been claiming since the existence of wands to have an unbeatable one-"

"And it's caused nothing but more bloodshed and murder," Lily said with finality. As if they needed more of that in their life to be sitting around discussing it.

Sirius shrugged but made no argument so James gave Harry a curious look before going on into what Dumbledore had to say about this, honestly very curious.

Albus Dumbledore on "The Tale of the Three Brothers"

This story made a profound impression on me as a boy. I heard it first from my mother, and it soon became the tale I requested more often than any other at bedtime.

James couldn't help but chuckle slightly he had something so in common with Dumbledore. As angry as he still was at him, he really was trying his hardest not to let that linger for now at least.

This frequently led to arguments with my younger brother, Aberforth, whose favorite story was "Grumble the Grubby Goat".

Sirius snorted randomly, honestly just thankful to have any more information about this brother they'd kept hearing about but had no knowledge of before this.

The moral of "The Tale of the Three Brothers" could not be any clearer: human efforts to evade or overcome death are always doomed to disappointment.

James looked pleased and turned gloatingly to his wife, who still had a sour face, thinking there were better ways to have this in a story that didn't involve murder and suicide.

The third brother in the story ("the humblest and also the wisest") is the only one who understands that, having narrowly escaped Death once, the best he can hope for is to postpone their next meeting for as long as possible.

"Really makes you wonder how he copulated under a cloak, I mean the broad-"

Remus reached over and plugged his nose while James kept going loudly around him.

This youngest brother knows that taunting Death by engaging in violence, like the first brother, or by meddling in the shadowy art of necromancy,1 like the second brother - means pitting oneself against a wily enemy who cannot lose.

The irony is that a curious legend has grown up around this story, which precisely contradicts the message of the original. This legend holds that the gifts Death gives the brothers "an unbeatable wand, a stone that can bring back the dead, and an Invisibility Cloak that endures forever" are genuine objects that exist in the real world. The legend goes further: if any person becomes the rightful owner of all three, then he or she will become "master of Death", which has usually been understood to mean that they will be invulnerable, even immortal.

Harry couldn't help but make a keening noise of frustration, shaking his head frantically and wishing more than anything right now his brain would quit setting itself on fire. He wasn't relearning any memories more than he should, so why on earth did all of this feel so monumental, and also decide to torment him for learning it all too soon before other things to come? All of this felt like little puzzles that would not weld together, so thankfully he wasn't suffering as bad as he could, but more than any before, he simply wished this would just end.

James fully realized this and wanted to close this in disappointment and be done as well. Clearly this was doing nothing but hurting his son no matter how much they couldn't understand why, but then Harry surprised them by telling without even looking up, "go ahead and finish, it's a better distraction than wondering why this is all supposed to mean something I suppose."

James disagreed, clearly Harry had a conversation about this with Dumbledore at some point and it was paining him to have to remember even vague details about it now, but to deny Harry would only make what he said all the more true, so he fingered the next page and just tried to keep going with more urgency than some silly story should provide.

We may smile, a little sadly, at what this tells us about human nature. The kindest interpretation would be: "Hope springs eternal".

Lily couldn't help but smile for that line, aware that none but her would recognize a quote from a muggle poet Alexander Pope, but it was one she'd carried through most of her life, where her optimism so often sprang from as well, hope.

In spite of the fact that, according to Beedle, two of the three objects are highly dangerous, in spite of the clear message that Death comes for us all in the end, a tiny minority of the wizarding community persists in believing that Beedle was sending them a coded message, which is the exact reverse of the one set down in ink, and that they alone are clever enough to understand it.

Sirius couldn't help but snort with mirth at that line. Who on earth was mad enough to go looking for coded messages in a kids tale?*

Their theory (or perhaps "desperate hope" might be a more accurate term) is supported by little actual evidence. True Invisibility Cloaks, though rare, exist in this world of ours; however, the story makes it clear that Death's Cloak is of a durable nature.2

Through all the centuries that have intervened between Beedle's day and our own, nobody has ever claimed to have found Death's Cloak.

"I do wonder how no one in your family was mad enough to try," Lily couldn't help but ask him. "I understand why you didn't," she unconscionably inclined her head towards Remus, their cloak had been invaluable in their attempts to help him in much of their youth, "but no one before you?"

"I've only met my granddad once, but he told me an epic tale about his great-granddad trying," James told with a nostalgic smile, and finally Harry was looking on with that interest he so deserved in learning more about his history. "Tried to find a way to replicate the cloak, mass produce it for more money, our inheritance from the line was running thin by then. Anyways, something went awfully wrong right away, before the man could put one spell on it, and so I was told there's a curse upon it, wrought to anyone who attempts to divulge it's secrets." He finished in a goofy mystical voice.

"So only use it for good and not to steal, got it," Harry couldn't help but laugh lightly, which helped him to ignore a funny tickle in his memory he may have learned that the hard way as well.

This is explained away by true believers thus: either the third brother's descendants do not know where their Cloak came from, or they know and are determined to show their ancestor's wisdom by not trumpeting the fact.

"Well that ones out the bush," Sirius said at once. "Prongs can't show an ounce of wisdom unless he's threatened with wrought!"

James gave him a calculating look before reminding, "who exactly was it who got caught underneath it by Flitwick and had to give the lamest excuse ever for it's existence?"

Sirius let out a lengthy breath, realized his mate wasn't going to go on until Harry stopped looking at him with an already twitching smile for whatever this could be, and finally muttered, "I was, when I told him I was just trying to smuggle in a demiguise from Kettleburn."

"So who had to steal it back?" James wouldn't let go.

"You did, by spending the whole weekend and fifty Galleons to buy a demiguise and give it to Kettleburn while Remus snuck into his office to get the cloak."

"Exactly," he finished pleasantly before going on while Sirius still muttered profanities about that mess.

Naturally enough, the stone has never been found, either. As I have already noted in the commentary for "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump", we remain incapable of raising the dead, and there is every reason to suppose that this will never happen. Vile substitutions have, of course, been attempted by Dark wizards, who have created Inferi,3

They all made faces at the mention of those, though Harry gave the nastiest little shiver he was sure he didn't want to understand so didn't question what they were.

but these are ghastly puppets, not truly reawoken humans. What is more, Beedle's story is quite explicit about the fact that the second brother's lost love has not really returned from the dead. She has been sent by Death to lure the second brother into Death's clutches, and is therefore cold, remote, tantalizingly both present and absent.4

James breath caught enough all on its own he didn't notice Harry's and he had to resist the urge with all his might not to squeeze his eyes shut in pain lest he have a horrifying vision of Sirius looking anything like that.

This leaves us with the wand, and here the obstinate believers in Beedle's hidden message have at least some historical evidence to back up their wild claims. For it is the case whether because they liked to glorify themselves, or to intimidate possible attackers, or because they truly believed what they were saying, that wizards down the ages have claimed to possess a wand more powerful than the ordinary, even an "unbeatable" wand. Some of these wizards have gone so far as to claim that their wand is made of elder, like the wand supposedly made by Death. Such wands have been given many names, among them "the Wand of Destiny" and "the Deathstick".

It is hardly surprising that old superstitions have grown up around our wands, which are, after all, our most important magical tools and weapons. Certain wands (and therefore their owners) are supposed to be incompatible:

When his wand's oak and hers is holly, then to marry would be folly.

"Wonder what it says about mahogany and willow," James asked pleasantly while batting his eyes at his wife.

"The first is an idiot and the second is the fool who fell for that idiot," Lily returned pleasantly.

"You can do better than that Evans, it didn't even rhym," Sirius scoffed.

"Potter," they both corrected him, causing the two to smile at each other and Sirius to smirk.

or to denote flaws in the owner's character:

Rowan gossips,

"I never gossiped," Sirius muttered, "wandlore is stupid anyways."

"You're right, you should have had chestnut," Remus rolled his eyes while Sirius huffed at him.

chestnut drones, Ash is stubborn, hazel moans.

And sure enough, within this category of unproven sayings we find:

Wand of elder, never prosper.

Whether because of the fact that Death makes the fictional wand out of elder in Beedle's story, or because power-hungry or violent wizards have persistently claimed that their own wands are made of elder, it is not a wood that is much favored among wandmakers.

The first well-documented mention of a wand made of elder

"Ugh, isn't he done yet!" Sirius groaned. "I didn't care this much, I'm starting to feel like I'm being force fed a history lesson!"

"Still the most interesting one we've ever had," James shrugged, continuing with honest curiosity, as it had yet to say what Dumbledore felt about any of this, just stating the facts of others.

that had particularly strong and dangerous powers was owned by Emeric, commonly called "the Evil", a short-lived but exceptionally aggressive wizard who terrorized the South of England in the early Middle Ages. He died as he had lived, in a ferocious duel with a wizard known as Egbert. What became of Egbert is unknown, although the life expectancy of medieval duellers was generally short. In the days before there was a Ministry of Magic to regulate the use of Dark Magic, dueling was usually fatal.

"I am fairly confident dueling is still fatal," Lily muttered.

A full century later, another unpleasant character, this time named Godelot, advanced the study of Dark Magic by writing a collection of dangerous spells with the help of a wand he described in his notebook as "my most wicked and subtle friend, with bodie of Ellhorn,6 who knowes ways of magick moste evile". (Magick Moste Evile became the title of Godelot's masterwork.)

As can be seen, Godelot considers his wand to be a helpmeet, almost an instructor. Those who are knowledgeable about wandlore5 will agree that wands do indeed absorb the expertise of those who use them, though this is an unpredictable and imperfect business;

one must consider all kinds of additional factors, such as the relationship between the wand and the user, to understand how well it is likely to perform with any particular individual.

Nevertheless, a hypothetical wand that had passed through the hands of many Dark wizards would be likely to have, at the very least, a marked affinity for the most dangerous kinds of magic.

Harry had been rubbing his palm against his knee through most of that passage, wishing that tingling sensation would vanish already almost as much as this loaded feeling there was much more to be remembered about all of this, not much of it pleasant.

Most witches and wizards prefer a wand that has "chosen" them to any kind of second-hand wand, precisely because the latter is likely to have learned habits from its previous owner that might not be compatible with the new user's style of magic. The general practice of burying (or burning) the wand with its owner, once he or she has died, also tends to prevent any individual wand learning from too many masters. Believers in the Elder Wand, however, hold that because of the way in which it has always passed allegiance between owners "the next master overcoming the first, usually by killing him."

"How can it be an unbeatable wand if it's passed along through death?" Remus couldn't resist poking at Sirius who was still trying to pretend he was bored with this by twirling his wand about even as he kept his head tilted towards James to hear these details giving him away. "That feels redundant."

"Use your imagination Moony, wands pass along without consent. It doesn't happen often-"

"But every single time?" Remus persisted.

Lily cleared her throat obnoxiously so that they'd stop carrying on while Harry gave her a grateful look and flattened his hair again, though it did no more good than banishing his headache.

the Elder Wand has never been destroyed or buried, but has survived to accumulate wisdom, strength and power far beyond the ordinary.

"You think that's why Mrs. Longbottom gave Neville his dads wand?" Harry pointed out something that had lingered in his mind, aside from the rest of that torture going on inside the Department of Mysteries.

"Neville didn't get his parents killed," Sirius said so sharply Harry jumped and looked at him in surprise.

"Not that, the accumulating wisdom bit, strength and power over time. I'll bet she's looking for Frank in Neville or something," he finished with still distant eyes, and they were all wondering what he was really thinking of, yet sure they were all missing it.

"Well, he'll be getting his own now, so whatever her intent was it's gone," Lily said gently.

"I'll bet Neville's magic will be loads better this year because of that," James agreed happily. "Even better than he was showing in the DA."

"Least that's one good thing to be looking forward to," Remus muttered.

Godelot is known to have perished in his own cellar, where he was locked by his mad son, Hereward. We must assume that Hereward took his father's wand, or the latter would have been able to escape, but what Hereward did with the wand after that we cannot be sure. All that is certain is that a wand called "the Eldrun6 Wand" by its owner, Barnabas Deverill, appeared in the early eighteenth century, and that Deverill used it to carve himself out a reputation as a fearsome warlock, until his reign of terror was ended by the equally notorious Loxias, who took the wand, rechristened it "the Deathstick", and used it to lay waste to anyone who displeased him. It is difficult to trace the subsequent history of Loxias's wand, as many claimed to have finished him off, including his own mother.

"Dumbledore's sure done a lot of research on this," James flipped to the next page and was actually relieved to see it was the last. "I'm starting to agree with Sirius, what's the point of all this?"

"The man does his homework?" Remus shrugged indifferently while Lily didn't care past wanting it to be done with as well.

Harry just looked around at all of them and ground his teeth together rather than blurt out something he'd regret.

What must strike any intelligent witch or wizard on studying the so-called history of the Elder Wand is that every man who claims to have owned it7 has insisted that it is "unbeatable", when the known facts of its passage through many owners' hands demonstrate that not only has it been beaten hundreds of times, but that it also attracts trouble as Grumble the Grubby Goat attracted flies.

Remus still couldn't help a little smirk of victory he and Dumbledore seemed to agree on that front, than he caught sight of Harry and fully remembered all that Dumbledore would do in this future, and the smile slipped away just as fast.

Ultimately, the quest for the Elder Wand merely supports an observation I have had occasion to make many times over the course of my long life: that humans have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.

"Wonder if he's speaking from experience," Lily said waspishly, having several accounts of the man doing just that.

But which of us would have shown the wisdom of the third brother, if offered the pick of Death's gifts?

James couldn't help but hum thoughtfully at that. Even now, with all his years he'd had with his cloak, given the choice of the three this moment, would he still pick the same? To see his parents again, to have even just one more protection for his family? He honestly wasn't at all sure no matter what he said aloud.

Wizards and Muggles alike are imbued with a lust for power; how many would resist "the Wand of Destiny"? Which human being, having lost someone they loved, could withstand the temptation of the Resurrection Stone? Even I, Albus Dumbledore, would find it easiest to refuse the Invisibility Cloak; which only goes to show that, clever as I am, I remain just as big a fool as anyone else.

"Ah, he does admit it, even to himself," Sirius growled.

"Wonder what changes then in times for him to take so long to do so," Harry snapped at no one in here while his dad finished.

1 Necromancy is the Dark Art of raising the dead. It is a branch of magic that has never worked, as this story makes clear.

2 Invisibility Cloaks are not, generally, infallible. They may rip or grow opaque with age, of the charms placed upon them may wear off, or be countered by charms of revealment. This is why witches and wizards usually turn, in the first instance, to Disillusionment Charms for self-camouflage or concealment. I have been known to be able to perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful as to render myself invisible without the need for a Cloak.

3 Inferi are corpses reanimated by Dark Magic.

Harry crinkled up his nose in disgust. He was right, he hadn't wanted to know.

4 Many critics believe that Beedle was inspired by the Philosopher's Stone, which makes the immortality-inducing Elixir of Life, when creating this stone that can raise the dead.

5 Such as myself.

6 Also an old name for "elder".

7 No witch has ever claimed to own the Elder Wand. Make of that what you will.

James finished with a roaring laugh while Lily snatched the book away and gave him a light swat for whatever that laugh meant. James got it back before flipping through pages randomly instead of fully addressing Harry as he uneasily told him, "well, that was the last of them."

"I'm still taking the rest of the day," Sirius said at once, he knew he couldn't handle just yet hearing of Harry's next year, it helped nothing this couldn't even end on a truly pleasant note as Harry kept eyeing that story with some deep look none of them could know until it was too late.

The others agreed with him at once, and left Harry's next year for another day, still trying to enjoy whatever distance they could without having to spend the next indeterminable amount of time for the rest of this nightmare of a future.

HPHPHPHP

Hope you enjoyed these! They really are so much fun to read and they still make me smile, plus I absolutely inhale anything to do with this world, the extra knowledge in these pages and even something as silly as what kids would have been told as their bedtimes stories in conjunction with ours endlessly fascinates me.

*I am, unashamedly. I've spent many a countless hours on Harry Potter fan sites full of inner messages of these novels, leading to the existence of this fic, so you're welcome Sirius.

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #the tales of beedle the bard #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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