#i was looking of ways my mum can send me my sheets from home but it's complicated thanks to brexit

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet. 

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.  

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD. 

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

[missyourflight]

omg hear me out: maxiel big eden au (scotty as dean?)

ANON YOU ARE SINGING THE SONG OF MY HEART

Follow me if you will to MONTANA

Daniel’s like a photographer in the big city and he comes back to his tiny hometown for family health crisis reasons. And it’s scary but not world-ending, but his mum’s so stressed and he hasn’t seen his sister’s kids in so long that he agrees to stay for a few weeks and be all together.

And he’s back in his high school room, under soft old flannel sheets, feeling tight in his skin again in a way he hasn’t in years.

His old truck is still in the garage but it makes all kinds of horrible noises when he starts it up. His mum tells him to take it to the general store, Max will fix it up for him, so he drives really gingerly into town and rattles to a stop outside the general store. For Big Eden enjoyers the old guys who hang around outside the store all day are Max’s gamer friends probably. He remembers Max a bit from school; Daniel was a few years ahead of him but round here everyone knows everyone near enough. The Max in his memory was kind of scrawny but this Max is sturdy, Daniel can see the muscles cording his forearms when he pushes up his sleeves.

Max takes a look at the truck, and when it makes a bad noise again he says, I think he didn’t like you leaving him so long, which makes Daniel laugh it’s such a weird thing to say. He watches Max work on the truck and sort of wanders round the store getting reacquainted with everything, the canned food and the beer in the fridge and the blankets on the wall, the racks of postcards. He could take better pictures than these. 

Meanwhile due to the family health crisis everyone is rallying round so Max’s mum sends him over with a casserole or something. And Daniel’s mum makes him stay and eat with them and then Max goes back to his mum’s like, We have to keep making them food. And he keeps bringing food and staying for dinner, warm around the table with the family.

One night Daniel walks him out to his truck, laughing like, I haven’t eaten so much casserole in years. And Max is thinking, I bet he likes fancy New York food. So Max (secretly!) takes over making food for Daniel’s family and does some research and finds some things he thinks sound nice, and after he brings beef carpaccio three nights in a row Daniel is like, Maybe we should try and make something else? Together? Because he’s kind of going out of his mind with nothing to do, and also if Max keeps doing this unsupervised he’s going to turn into a werewolf or something with all the raw meat.

So that’s what they do, cooking together in Max’s little kitchen out the back of the general store, trying to decide on recipes they find online, making ratatouille and sticky ribs and gnocchi. Daniel suggests coq au vin like three hundred times in a horrible exaggerated accent until Max is laughing so hard he’s got a stitch. And they eat together every night and Daniel takes the rest back home to his family, humming to himself over the sound of the truck, so much smoother now since Max fixed it up.

Meanwhile Scotty is Daniel’s childhood best friend who is Also coincidentally back because he moderately injured himself snowboarding or something and his mum wants to fuss over him. Obviously they used to hook up in high school and now Scotty is engaged to a woman etc. And Daniel’s so happy to see him but there’s this ache underneath he can’t even look at.

On Sundays everyone goes to church. Sometimes Daniel twists around in his seat to see Max sitting in a row with his mum and his sister, one of her boys on his knee, their matching haircuts, and afterwards everyone stands outside while the kids run around, Max and Scotty eyeing each other warily. Every month or so there’s a dance in the town square, a band, and Daniel swings his niece around saying Bella, bellissima, tells Max he’s thinking about learning to play guitar.

And Daniel just stays, way longer than he’d planned. He cooks with Max, hangs around the general store making a nuisance of himself, drinks beers on the dock with Scotty. He does some photography workshops at the elementary school, has the kids lie on their backs to take pictures of the sky, blows up all their wonky beautiful shots of leaves and stones for them to pin on the walls. He works a bit, too, taking pictures of the landscape way better than the postcards at the general store, selling prints online, photographing at the rodeo. He could make a living here, he could make a life.

He thinks about it sometimes, how in some ways it’s easier to breathe in the city, how it’s getting easier and easier to breathe here, at home, under the wide sky. He takes so many pictures, of the leaves changing, of the lake at the back of his parents’ house, of the kids, of Scotty whooping in the stands at the rodeo; of Max, smiling shyly from under the brim of his hat; of Max, his hands working under the hood of a truck; of Max, his head tipped back laughing.

One night Max very bravely asks him, When do you think you’ll head back to the city, and Daniel grins at him like, I dunno, we didn’t make coq au vin yet. And Max lets himself start to hope, just a bit.

But then! There’s some sort of big city photography emergency so Daniel is sort of reluctantly like, I guess I have to go back. And his family arrange a send-off, just friends and food at the house the night before he flies.

The night before the party Daniel stands out back for a while looking at the lake until his mum says, Come and sit with me for a while. So he comes and sits on the swing with her and she says, It’s been so nice having you back, which, he already feels shitty for leaving again.

And then she says, Is Max coming by tomorrow? And Daniel’s like, I dunno, I mean I told him. Max had gone really quiet, when Daniel said he was leaving, looking down at his hands for a long moment until Daniel said, You better cook me something nice, and then he’d said, I will, of course.

His mum says, He’s such a sweet boy, and Daniel can only say, Yeah, because there’s this weird lump in his throat all of a sudden.

And then (because this is the Big Eden utopia where homophobia doesn’t exist etc) his mum is like, Did we teach you shame? Just rocking with him on the porch swing under a quilt while Daniel cries a bit.

The next day everyone’s at the house to say goodbye and Max hasn’t shown yet, Daniel keeps sticking his head out of the back door to check for him.

Scotty collars him in the kitchen when no one’s around, tugs him into the pantry. And he kisses Daniel, there in the tiny room with the musty old spice rack and the jars of preserves. And Daniel thinks, his mum didn’t teach him shame, but Scotty kind of did. In high school, under the bleachers, in the back of Daniel’s truck. Never where anyone might see.

Are you not getting married, he says, pulling back, and Scotty says, Yeah, but, his eyes raking over Daniel’s face. For old time’s sake. And Daniel’s leaving everything, and Max didn’t come, and he’d wanted Scotty for so long.

Someone opens the pantry door, quickly shuts it again at the sight of the two of them. Scotty freezes.

Daniel pushes out of the pantry and sees this big pot steaming on a trivet on the table, the door swinging behind Max as he bolts. He calls after him but it’s useless, Max is gone, and when he lifts the lid of the pot he’s hit with the rich rising smell of coq au vin. And it’s like there’s a rope around his heart he hadn’t known was there. Daniel has to go after him.

And there are about seven people blocking in his truck, his truck that Max fixed up, so he just starts running, pounding down the road as the sky darkens. And he’s a mess by the time he gets to the general store, he’s sweating everywhere, and all Max’s gamer friends are outside so mad at him but he pushes past them and finds Max, sitting at the table in the little kitchen with his head in his hands.

Max? His voice is all shot from running over here and Max looks up at him wide-eyed, that rope around Daniel’s heart pulling him until he’s on his knees on the kitchen floor, laying his head against Max’s leg. Max, he says again, the worn denim of Max’s jeans soft against his cheek as Max puts a wondering hand in his hair.

He says, I think I’m gonna stick around for a while, his heart well and truly lassoed, and Max says, Good, wiping Daniel’s eyes with the sleeve of his flannel.

At the next party in the square they dance together, and Daniel feels as big as the sky, the way Max is looking at him, kissing him in front of the stars and everyone they know.

And then they’re gay and in love forever in Montana under the open skies etc

[valentineforlemonandcherry]

Joke’s On You 12

When Fred Weasley carelessly bumps into you into the hallway, you decide to take him a notch down; not by berating him, but by showing him up at his own game of using your charm and intellect to get what you want. And it’s fine if the end result doesn’t leave everyone quite satisfied - in fact, that’s what you want…

[Fred Weasley x Reader.] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Non-Consent.] [Warning: Manipulation.] [Warning: Humiliation.]

⍟ Click Here for Joke’s On You Home Page (All Chapter Links) ⍟

Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

“Come with me.”

“Hm?”

“Come home with me.”

You and Fred were back in your room. You were finishing up packing your suitcase. Meanwhile, Fred was on your bed. He was leaning back against your pillows and looking perfectly at home in your lavender sheets.

“Home with you?” You looked over at Fred. “You mean I should go to your house for winter break?”

“Yeah.”

“But you haven’t asked your parents if you can have a guest.”

Fred snorted. “Trust me, they’ll be delighted.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well, what about my parents?” you thought aloud. “They’ll be expecting me home.”

“Would they be upset just by you asking them if you could come over?” Fred wondered.

You paused, thinking. Would they be upset...?

Seeing the apprehension on your face, Fred suggested, “If it helps, I can ask my Mum to go talk to your parents. She’ll be on the platform tomorrow.”

“My parents won’t be waiting for me on the platform.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged as you neatly packed away the last of your jumpers. “They have to travel often for their jobs. They won’t be home when I go home.”

“Oh.” Fred frowned. “Then, you really should just come over. You can send an owl home to tell your parents where you are.”

You closed the suitcase. “Wouldn’t it be irresponsible of me, though, to not come home when they’re expecting me to? Regardless of whether they’re physically there or not…”

“Not if you send a letter. Besides, George and I are out all the time and we never tell Mum or Dad where we’re going – well, unless they catch us, and then we have to, but that rarely ever happens…”

You stood up and looked at Fred.

“Ginny used to tattle on us, but she’s since stopped, thank Merlin. It’s just that her room’s right next to ours. Ron’s is, too, mind, but he would sleep through a hurricane…” Fred, who had been rambling on, suddenly paused. “What? What is it?”

“Just thinking.”

Fred sat up. “Listen, it’s only a friendly offer.”

“I know.” You came over and sat next to Fred on the bed. “I’m not sure… if it would be wise.”

“Is this really something to think this hard about?” Fred asked you, puzzled. He reached over and poked at your cheek. “Do you not want to spend time with me? If that’s it, you can tell me. I won’t be offended.”

“Of course not. I’d be happy to spend time with you,” you said, pulling your face away. “By the way, you definitely would be offended.”

“All right,” Fred relented, flopping back down on your bed. “I would’ve been a little miffed.”

You poked him in the stomach. “Then why did you lie to me, stupid?”

He poked you back in your thigh. “So you wouldn’t feel pressured to come home with me, stupid.”

You shook your head and started to get up from the bed, when Fred abruptly rolled over to you. He pressed himself up against your leg. “C’mon, mistress,” he said teasingly. “Come home with me. I promise I’ll let you build a dungeon for me. You can spank me there.”

You laughed. Reaching down, you slipped your hand into Fred’s hair and roughed it up a bit as you suggested, “Tell you what – let’s play a little game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah. Let’s say… If in the last fifteen minutes of the train ride, you can find and catch me, I’ll go home with you.”

“Huh? Like hide-and-seek?”

“Mhm.”

“And if I don’t…?”

“I’ll go home and you won’t see or hear from me for all of winter break.”

“At all?”

“At all.”

Fred stared up at you. Then, a slight pout appeared on his face and, while hiding his face against your thigh, he muttered accusingly, “I think you’re a sadist.”

“No, this is just a prank. Like you do all the time.”

“No, but you’re scary about it,” he pushed back.

You drew away from Fred. “Fine, then. Don’t take me up on my offer.”

“No, no, wait!” Fred hurriedly wrapped his arm around your thigh and dragged you back down onto the bed. “All right, fine, I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Yeah, yeah… you weirdo,” Fred muttered. You felt Fred give you a soft bite on your thigh.

You grinned. “I can’t wait!”

“All right, but you didn’t set any limits on how I catch you,” he pointed out. “So if a big ol’ butterfly net comes down on you tomorrow, you can’t get mad at me.”

You fluttered your eyelashes at Fred innocently as you replied, “Why would I get mad at you over something that’ll never happen?”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

“Shove aside, shove aside!”

All of the train passengers in the corridor grumbled as they moved aside for Fred Weasley, who, for some reason, was marching down the aisle while carrying a makeshift net. Everybody else was getting ready to get off of the train, as the train was pulling into the station.

“Oi! You, tall kid!” Fred exclaimed, pointing his net at a tall, lanky boy who was even taller than Fred. “Put your head down for a moment. I gotta see past you.”

“Fred Weasley, what the hell are you on about?” Alicia Spinnet yelled at him.

Fred didn’t bother to reply to her, but instead performed a most bizarre ritual of trying to see over everyone’s head, then under everyone’s legs, then whippping his head to the left and to the right…

“Damn it,” Fred cursed. “Where the hell is she?”

“Train pulling into the station, train pulling into the station. If you haven’t already, please collect all of your belongings and exit your compartments.”

Fred growled. I didn’t think it’d be this hard to find her. I’ve gone up and down all the passenger compartments – where the hell could she be?

The train doors opened. Students immediately began to flood out of the train.

Fred felt a rush of desperation. What if I don’t find her? She wouldn’t actually leave without a word of good-bye and not contact me at all for the entire winter break, would she?

But the voice in his head admitted, Well, yes, that’s exactly what a little hellcat like her would do.

Damn it, damn it, damn it – what do I do? How can I find her?

Fred wondered if he should try to cast a Tracing Spell or a Tracking Spell, but he didn’t think it would work with so many people running around him.

It was while Fred was being jostled here and there by everyone trying to get off the train that a thought suddenly struck him, for Fred was starting to catch onto your intelligence and the way your mind – or more accurately, your mischievousness, worked.

Yeah, Fred thought, I reckon that’s where she’ll be. Because that’s where she always is – two steps ahead of me, waiting for me to catch up.

“Excuse me!” Fred yelled, as he hurriedly jolted into action. He was determined to catch you before you slipped away from him for the entire winter break.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

In fact, on your end, it was all incredibly simple. From the very beginning, you had gone up to the driver’s compartment, all the way at the very front, and asked if you could sit quietly in the corner because sitting anywhere else in the train made you suffer from motion sickness. The driver was very kind and let you stay there.

Then, when the train arrived at King’s Station, as there weren’t any crowds to contend with on your way out, you were the first to pop out of the train and onto the platform.

You dusted off your skirt and received your baggage, which the driver was handing to you.

“Thank you very much, sir,” you said sincerely. “Happy Holidays.”

“Happy Holidays, miss.”

You put your luggage down and started to walk down the long platform. You walked slowly, hopeful… Hopeful… Hopeful…

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Fred stumbled out. He was furious. He’d been thinking so hard of how to catch you, that by the time he’d gotten his act together, he was at the back of the line of passengers exiting, and despite his best efforts, he was nearly the last one off the train.

Where is she? Where - ?

He dashed madly down the platform, whipping his head back and forth frantically as he looked for you.

“Ah, Fred - !”

“Two seconds, Mum!”

“But Fred - ”

“I’ll be right back, Dad!”

Fred ran past his family and kept going, desperately trying to find you.

Where is she, that witch!? That sly, stinking, stupid, slimy little demon…!

Then, he spotted your perfect, neat hair, bobbing along the crowd.

Ah, there!

You were almost at the exit for 9¾ platform…!

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

It took every ounce of your willpower not to turn around and look for Fred.

Ah, well, you thought, as it was nearly your turn to run at the invisible barrier between 9¾ platform and the rest of King’s Cross Station. I’ll see him after winter break. I’ll find a subtle way to message him in the meantime. Maybe I can send him a pair of his boxers that I managed to steal from his drawer way back when we first slept together in his bed. He never even noticed. At least, he never said anything to me about it. Is that a sign that he needs to do laundry more often? Probably.

“Miss.” A gentleman tapped you on the shoulder. “Your turn.”

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

You stepped up and faced the invisible barrier, when –

Whump!

“Caught you!” Fred crowed, as he brought the butterfly net soundly on top of you.

“What in the - ?”

At the sight of a young man with messy ginger hair and slouchy clothing catching a young, prim-looking lady in a butterfly net, the crowd around you both went into an uproar.

“Young man, that is not how you treat a lady!”

“What d’you think you’re playing at?”

“A net? A net!? How dare you use a net on a human being!?”

“Wait, wait!” Fred shouted. “It’s not – This is just a misunderstanding!”

“Fred? Fred? Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Mr. Weasley began to gripe, when Mrs. Weasley’s voice blasted out at a volume far above everyone else’s.

“FRED WEASLEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?” With an impressive roar, Molly Weasley reached over and yanked both Fred and you out of the crowd.

Meanwhile, George, who had tagged along with his Mum to find Fred, helped take the butterfly net off of you.

When Molly saw you, she gasped. “Fred, this is the prefect that helped you out! Oh, Merlin’s beard, how can I ever apologize enough? I’m so ashamed! You stuck up for my boys and this is how they treat you - ”

“I had no part in this,” George supplied unhelpfully.

“No,” you said quickly. “Mrs. Weasley, this is all a misunderstanding. Fred didn’t catch me in a butterfly net.”

Fred shot you a confused glance. He had caught you in a butterfly net. That was exactly what he’d done.

“He was holding the butterfly net for me because I was trying to grab everything to go through the barrier,” you explained. “But somebody bumped into us and the net must’ve slipped – and it ended up around me. That’s all. Everybody just misunderstood.”

“Oh. But why do you have a net in the first place, dearie?” Molly wondered, staring at you with uncertain eyes.

“My father’s a biologist. Specifically, a research biologist. I saw this net in the Herbology classroom and thought he might like it.”

“Bio…logist…?”

“It’s a Muggle occupation,” you explained. “Both of my parents are non-magical.”

“Oh!” Molly suddenly nodded vigorously. “I see, I see. I’m sorry I didn’t catch on at first, dear.”

“That’s all right,” you said agreeably. “I can see how it was confusing.”

Then, you shot Molly a rather shy look, as you said, “And actually, um, my parents won’t be home for a little while. I was just going to go home and be by myself for a while, but Fred was trying to be a gentleman and he said that I could stay at his house, only he said that he’d have to ask you first, to make sure that you and your husband were all right with it, that it wouldn’t create any extra stress or anything like that…”

Molly looked at Fred in amazement. “You said that, Fred? You were worried about me and if I’d be overwhelmed?”

“Er - ”

Molly suddenly burst into happy tears and she flung herself around Fred’s neck. “Oh, my little Fred is all grown up!”

“Mum!” Fred sputtered, flustered. “Mum, geroff! Mum - !”

“Of course, sweetheart. Of course you can come,” Molly said, turning to you. “It wouldn’t be a burden at all! Come, come! Fred, be a gentleman now and take her luggage. And hand her back that net!”

Fred blinked in surprise as you quickly traded him your luggage for the net.

“Thanks, Freddie,” you whispered to him. Clutching the net, you followed Molly along.

Fred had barely gotten over the whiplash of your quick thinking when George stepped up and thunked him on the head with his fist (not too hard, but not lightly, either.)

“So, it was her,” George said knowingly. “How come you hid it from me for so long?”

“Huh?”

“She’s the one you’ve wanted, the one you’ve always had your eye on.”

“Not always…”

“Then, since when?”

“Um, since I ran into her in the hallway and made her late for a Charms exam…”

George frowned. “Huh? When was that?”

“The whole Mrs. Norris-catnip-Snape incident. Filch came after me, remember?”

“Oh!” George got it at once. “Right.” He smirked. “That was a good trick, I think. Luring Mrs. Norris with catnip into Snape’s bed. Filch and Snape had to see each other in their pajamas. I don’t think they’ve been able to look each other in the face since.”

“Too bad Lee got caught in the middle of it and saw them both in their pajamas,” Fred recalled, shaking his head soberly. “I told him he’d get stuck if he tried to hide in that suit of armor.”

“Ah, Lee,” George sighed. “He’s both smarter and dumber than he thinks he is.”

“Well,” Fred remarked sagely, as the two of them made their way after you and the rest of the family, “if you think about it – isn’t everybody?”  

George shot Fred a sideways look. Fred had his eyes fixed on a certain net, swaying and bobbing along in the air.

George gave his twin brother a rueful smile. “I don’t know about everybody, but I’d say you’re next in line after Lee.”

“What? How come?”

“Never mind. Let’s go home, Fred.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

“You’re scary as hell, you know that?” Fred said, as he set your luggage down in Ginny’s room. Usually, Hermione stayed in Ginny’s room for summer holidays, but Hermione always spent Christmas holidays with her family.

You rolled your eyes at Fred and gently pushed him away, but not before sneaking a kiss on his cheek as a ‘thank you.’

Fred seemed both put-off and turned-on by your kiss. You laughed and sent him out the door, though not before pulling up the neckline of his jumper, to make sure the love bites you’d given him yesterday were hidden from view.

Turning to Ginny, you said, “Sorry, Ginny. I’ll spend as much time out of your room as possible, I promise.”

Ginny shook her head. “It’s fine, honestly. I don’t spend much time in my room, anyways.”

You looked at her curiously. “What do you like to do?”

“Actually…” Ginny hesitated. She thought of you mostly as the upstanding prefect and now that she knew that you were somehow more than acquaintances with Fred, she wondered if you would tell on her if she told the truth. It’s fine, anyways, Ginny thought. I can always take Ron’s. He never notices. So, she went ahead and confessed, “I’d like to try out for the Quidditch team next year, so I’ve been stealing my brothers’ broomsticks from the shed every chance I get.”

Ginny winced slightly, waiting for your reaction.

What Ginny was not prepared, for, however, was the way your eyes lit up. “Excellent!” you remarked. “We’ll make sure you steal – excuse me, ‘borrow’ – Fred’s the most. I’ll help distract him.”

“You will?” Ginny said wonderingly. “How?”

You patted her on the shoulder. “You just leave that to me.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You couldn’t seem to fall asleep that night. You felt giddy and light, both in your head and your heart.

I’m at Fred’s house, you thought to yourself. I feel… nervous. It’s such a different environment from my home.

You were clutching at your covers, and your hands twitched slightly. I should write that letter, huh?

With a sigh, you quietly slipped out of bed. You scribbled out a note explaining where you were and stuffed it into an envelope.

Hm. I wonder where the owls are… I know Percy has his own owl (as he wouldn’t stop bragging about it since it was a gift from his parents after he was made prefect), but I would think Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have a family owl, too. Wonder where it nests…

You slipped out of the room. Luckily, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, but you were unfamiliar with the layout of the Burrow. You hesitated, unsure of whether to go upstairs or downstairs.

Just then, a voice whispered, “Oi. Running away, are we?”

You leaned over the staircase and peered up, only to see Fred’s head sticking out.

“Fred?”

“Where are you off to?” Fred hissed at you. “It’s nearly four in the morning.”

“Well… Well… Where are you off to?” you asked defensively.

Fred came down the staircase two flights and reached you. When he stopped in front of you, he replied matter-of-factly, “I was coming to get you.”

“Oh.” You felt a bit sheepish as you held up your letter. “I was going to send a letter to my parents, only I don’t know where your owl is.”

“Ah, lucky for you, you’ve run into a guide who is helpful, clever, handsome, dashing, all-too-kind - ”

“Fred,” you interrupted.

Fred grinned. “All right. This way.” He beckoned to you, and you followed him to the kitchen.

Fred pointed to a slumbering owl, nesting near the open window.

“Hey,” he whispered to the owl. “Wake up.”

The owl hooted sleepily and turned away from Fred.

Fred sighed. He reached out and tickled the owl’s wing.

The owl gave a strange screech – almost like a startled laugh – and blinked away. He hooted balefully at Fred.

“Sorry, Errol. But we’ve got an antsy customer. She’s a crocodile - ”

“ – Alligator - ” you said, not missing a beat,

“ – And she could eat both you and I alive. So you’ve got to do me a favor, all right?” Fred reached out and took the letter from you. He held it out for Errol. “It’s a Muggle neighborhood, so be careful.”

Errol nodded tiredly. He took the letter in his beak. Fred patted Errol’s head affectionately. “Off you go, then.”

Errol spread his wings and took off, albeit at a rather slow pace, into the night sky.

“Is he going to be all right?” you asked Fred worriedly. “He looked tired.”

“He always looks like that,” Fred assured you. “C’mere. We can watch him go.”

“What?”

Fred took your hand. He pulled you upstairs two flights and then, he guided you out of a thin and tall window onto one of the lower-level roofs of the house.

“We’re above the kitchen,” Fred explained, as the two of you sat down. He pointed into the night sky. “And there goes Errol.”

“Wow,” you said, watching Errol take off higher and higher into the night sky.

Just then, a breeze blew. You shivered.

“Oh.” Fred opened his snug bathrobe and enveloped you in it, with him. “Better?”

“Loads,” you replied happily. As the two of you looked out at the brilliant night sky, your hand wandered and you seemingly mindlessly played with the tie around the robe.

Fred said knowingly, “Don’t you dare curse this. I don’t want a replay of that damned button.”

“It wasn’t cursed,” you defended yourself. “It was charmed.”

“Whatever the hell it was, no thank you.” Fred reached down and took your wandering hand firmly in his.

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re such a baby, Fred.”

“Oh, yeah? Was I wrong about what you were thinking?” Fred challenged you.

“Well, no,” you admitted. “But still -  I thought you wanted me to have my fun.”

Fred groaned. “You’re a right menace, you know that? Even worse since we properly got together.”

“Did we?” you said lightly.

“What?”

“Think. Which one of the many times in which you asked me to be yours, did I actually say ‘yes’?”

“When you – Well, when I – That time when…” Fred’s brow furrowed. Then, his cheeks flushed red with anger.

You giggled. “Mhm, Freddie boy, you think hard on that question while I…” - you pressed yourself closer to him – “… snuggle up against your chest here…”

“Why do you call me that ridiculous nickname?” Fred asked stiffly, dropping your hand.

“Freddie boy?”

“Freddie. Freddie boy. Or any other variation of that sickly name. It’s hideous.”

“Because you’re so cute when I call you that,” you teased him playfully. “How can I give it up when it makes you turn all pink and silly?”

Fred sighed. “We’re supposed to be over this nonsense.”

“Well.” You lifted your head and looked up at Fred. Earnestly, you asked him, “Are you ever going to get over me?”

Fred paused. He wouldn’t look at you, but the tips of his ears went pick as he confessed, “No.” His arm, which was hugging you to keep you inside his bathrobe, tightened around you.

“Then, we’ll never be over all the ‘nonsense,’” you whispered. You slipped both of your arms around him and hugged him. You nestled your head against Fred’s shoulder. “Freddie.”

“What?” he said, annoyed.

“Fred,” you murmured, as your eyes slipped shut. It was past four in the morning.

“What?” he asked again, but in a much softer voice.

“Fred…”

You felt Fred reach up and stroke your hair gently. “Sleep, love. I know you think too much all day…” He paused before he added wryly, “…Coming up with ways to screw me over.”

You were nearly asleep, but you smiled at this remark.

“Reckon you need to rest this head of yours,” Fred murmured. “I’ve got you… Sleep, love.”

You breathed out softly. Fred Weasley. How did life bring me to you? I don’t know if we’ll last together. You can’t imagine how different our families are and our lives are. But I think I may be in love with you, despite all of that…

“…caught me…”

“Huh?” Fred said, catching your soft, sleepy mumble.

You sighed and, eyes closed and still hugging him, you murmured out, almost incoherently, “So glad... you caught me… butterfly net…”

“Oh.” Fred chuckled warmly. He glimpsed down at you – or, as much as he could with how close you were nestled against him. He wagered you had no idea how badly you’d caught him off-guard when you turned around, in your neat and proper outfit, with your matching white winter coat and white boots, clutching onto your suitcase, and you stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes past the netting of the butterfly net, and looked straight at him. The fog from the train steam had been blooming all around you, and the chatter of the crowd made the tender, silent moment of connection between the two of you stand out even more.

Fred had honestly fallen in love with you all over again in that moment. He realized that that was the thing about you, the ultimate trick you carried around in your pocket: the ability to make someone fall in love with you not once, but over and over again.

You were sleeping peacefully against Fred’s shoulder now. Fred slowly pressed his palm against your face to make sure you weren’t too cold. Then, he softly kissed the top of your wicked, curious, and over-thinking little head.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The next day, you, Fred, and George all ended up traipsing down the countryside. Actually, your morning had started off innocuously enough. Molly had asked the twins to get rid of the gnomes munching on the garden. You’d offered to help. You’d also, with the excuse of needing a scarf, run upstairs to let Ginny know that the twins would be occupied for the next couple of a hours.

The next couple of hours turned out to be all day because, in the middle of picking up gnomes and gently flinging them over the bushes, you decided that you wanted to see some reptiles, and you would settle for nothing less.

Fred said he wasn’t sure about any reptiles nearby, but that there was a brook only a mile away from the Burrow. You were off at once, happy to explore.

Fred and George looked at each other.

“What’s gotten into her?” George asked.

Fred shrugged. “Dunno. But I think it might be more accurate to say that she’s always like that.”

“Hm.” George looked over at Fred. “Well, we might as well go after her. We need to pick some alihotsy anyways. We’re running out, and we won’t be able to make any more Puking Pastilles without it.”

“Good point,” Fred agreed. With that, both boys followed you.

“Hey! Will you wait a minute?” Fred called after you, for you were already marching ahead. “You don’t even know where you’re going, dummy!”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Soon, the three of you were passing through the long, swaying reeds lining the banks of the brook. George was studying the plants, while you were clearly in search of a snake or a big lizard of some sort.

All of a sudden, Fred felt something lick at his shoes (not a reed, he swore later, but something alive). He screamed bloody murder and jumped straight onto you.

Adrenaline kicked in and, in a feat of amazing strength, you carried Fred all the way to the meadow. Fred was so tall that his sneakers were dragging through the mud, but still, you managed to drag him forward into an open space.

However, as soon as you realized that you were carrying Fred, you lost your strength as logic kicked in, and you ended up dumping him straight into the grass.

The two of you got into a shouting match of:

“You should have put me down nicely!”

“You shouldn’t have jumped onto me like that! Besides, you’re one to talk, dumping me on my bed like a sack of potatoes all the time!”

“Fine! Then let’s just say that it was my turn to be a hellcat, for once!”

By the time the three of you got home, George felt exhausted, even though he’d done nothing but listen to the two of you argue all the way back to the Burrow.

However, when George entered the Burrow, Molly asked, “Where’s everyone gone, now?”

George turned around, only to find that you and Fred were gone.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

As it was, your argument had heated both you and Fred up so much that you’d ended up falling behind.

“Seriously, shut up!”

“You shut up!”

You planted your feet into the ground, crossed your arms, and glared at Fred. Panting from the sheer effort of shouting at him while tromping through this long, swaying grass, you were still immature enough to shout, “No, you shut up!”

Fred glared right back at you. “Make me, you witch!”

Your eye twitched in anger. Fred Weasley, you big ol’ idiot. Why do you have to make me so mad all the time?

Fred’s eyes met yours.

Oh…

At the same time, you saw Fred bit down on his lower lip, as if he was holding back…

Faster than in the blink of an eye, the two of you collided and began kissing furiously.

You felt such a sense of relief when you ran into Fred, and when he ran into you, and the two of you caught each other.

Finally, you both thought at the same time. The only difference was that Fred thought fervently, Finally, she’s admitting she wants me, too. And you were thinking, Finally, I’m going to tease him to my heart’s content.

Yes, that was how the two of you ended up frolicking about in the long, swaying grass behind the Burrow while George dutifully returned home, carrying a handful of the plants needed for Puking Pastilles.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Meanwhile, at the Burrow, Ginny had just stashed away Fred’s broomstick and come back into the house. Seeing George going up the stairs, she called, “George? Where’s Fred?”

“With that prefect,” George replied. “They’re – er – looking for reptiles.”

“Oh.” Ginny paused. Then, she went right back outside to steal Fred’s broomstick again. She really is keeping him occupied, isn’t she? Ginny thought, as she kicked off into the air again.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You managed to topple Fred over and land on top of him. Fortunately, the reeds and grass were soft enough to cushion Fred’s fall. With victory flashing in your eyes, you carelessly shoved up his jumper and short and kissed, sucked, and bit him all over his body. The lower you went down his body, the more bites you gave him. All the while, too, you were carefully rubbing your thigh against Fred’s pants. Fred was groaning and moaning heavily by the time you finally made your way to Fred’s cock.

“Now,” you told him, “beg, Freddie boy.”

Fred moaned, “S-Shut up.”

In reply, you sucked even harder at his stomach.

It was starting to rain lightly, and the contrast of the drizzling, chilly water droplets coating his body versus the stinging, biting, yet heavenly warmth of your mouth, Fred was already losing any sense of dignity. But he tried, damn it. Groaning, he huffed out, “Could you – Could you please – nngh – behave yourself?”

“Hmpf. That’s my line for you,” you returned. “Stop squirming. Makes it harder to leave marks on you.”

You leaned back down and kissed his stomach again.

“You’re – You’re leaving enough marks as is,” Fred protested. “You’ve got no p-problem with that. My whole neck is – uhn – covered with your marks.”

You looked up at Fred with narrowed eyes. “What? Are you complaining?”

“Well…” Fred panted. “I’m just – just saying – I mean, no, it’s not that I don’t like it, but – but – ah…”

Rain droplets were streaking down his body. You could taste the rain on your tongue as you ran your mouth up and down his stomach. Sometimes, after you left a sweet, heart-shaped bite mark on his stomach, a drop of rain would fall inside the heart shape. In a way, it resembled the heart-shaped water marks that Fred’s flower had left all over your shirt the other day.

“Fred,” you murmured, as you made your way down his body, sliding yourself down his hips and then his legs, until your face was level with his belt buckle.

“W-What?” Fred lifted his head to look down at you.

You smiled when you saw his pink cheeks and the rather frenzied look in his eyes.

You tugged at his belt buckle. “Can I…?”

“It’s – uh - starting to rain, though,” Fred pointed out. “Maybe – Maybe we should go inside first.”

“But there are other people inside,” you countered. “And I…” You ran your hand suggestively up and down the front of his pants, palming his cock through the coarse fabric of his jeans. “… want you all to myself.”

Fred swallowed.

You giggled. “Still such a silly little boy, Fred.” You cocked your head up at him, as you whispered teasingly, “Doesn’t matter if I call you Fred or Freddie, does it? You’re all mine.”

Fred blinked at you in a rather owlish manner and you smiled to yourself as you thought about how he suddenly bore a striking resemblance to Errol in that moment.

You tugged again at his belt. “Well, fine,” you said, making up your mind, “if you’re not going to beg, I will.”

“You will?” Fred said skeptically.”

“Please,” you whispered, lowering your head so that your lips were grazing the bulge in his pants. You tugged yet against at his belt as you murmured sweetly, “Please, Fred, let me have you… Please.”

Fred stared at you, with a blush rising steadily on his face. He remembered that you had once told him he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you begged for him. He was fast finding out that this was true.

Trying not to show how much of an impact you were having on him with the simple little word of “please,” Fred murmured, “Fine. Do whatever you want, then. But afterwards, I get you, too. You better come up here and sit on my f – uhn!”

As soon as Fred had said, “fine,” you’d undid his belt and then hurriedly yanked down the front of his pants just enough for his stiff cock to spring out of his now-restrictive pants.

Then, you put your freezing cold hands on Fred’s abs (making Fred jolt) and held him down as you slid your warm, wet mouth onto his cock. Fred whimpered and his legs started to kick up a bit. You immediately opened your own thighs and sandwiched his legs between yours, trapping him under you.  

You leaned forward and finally took Fred’s cock in your mouth.

Fred groaned as he felt his stiff cock enveloped in the warmth of your sweet mouth. She’s so good at this… Fuck, feeling her mouth wrap around my cock like that is… It’s something else. Uhn… So – So fucking good…

Furious, wet sounds sounded out as you busied yourself on Fred’s cock.

“M-Mmpfh, Freddie, mmm,” you moaned out adoringly. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby… God, I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you so much.”

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and then ran your hand up and down his cock quickly. You could feel his cock stiffening, and you soon felt all of the veins and ridges of his cock sliding against your palm and fingers.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Such a handsome cock, Fred. Mmm, I love your cock so much.”

Fred’s breath quickened. Hearing you compliment him like this made his head spin and his pulse race. As much as he respected your mischievous nature, he loved even more when you let it down enough to praise him. He had a physical response, too, to being praised – His cock throbbed heavily with want.

When you felt his cock throb in your hand, you moaned out wantingly. More than anything, you wanted Fred to cum for you, right into your mouth and throat. Yes, you wanted to take and swallow every last drop of his cum.

“I want it, Fred,” you whispered fervently. “I want to feel your cock throb, just like that, but in my throat. Mm, yes, just – just imagining it is getting me all – all - ”

Fred would never know what “all” you meant, as you’d already gone and pushed yourself back onto his cock – and pushed your head down far enough that Fred felt his cock enter your warm, tight throat.

“Gods, - uhhh,” Fred moaned out heavily. He couldn’t comprehend anything anymore; only the sensation of you taking his cock deep into your throat registered in his brain and body. The shorter and thinner reeds around him were starting to break off and fall into his hair, as he threw his head back and panted desperately for you.

“Mmpfh, mmpfh, mmpfh!” The choked sounds of you deep-throating Fred’s cock sounded out loud and clear, despite the falling of the rain and rustling of the reeds all around you.

Fred started to tremble. “Ah… F-Fuck, b-baby,” he stuttered out. “Nngh…!”

Fred was having a rather rough time of it, as he was furiously looking for something to hold onto, only to find that the reeds around him were thin and snapped as soon as he made to grab at them. Becoming desperate as the tension became neigh unbearable, Fred tried to grab at your hair, but you impatiently slapped his hands away.

Not only did you slap his hands away, but you also sat up, pulling your mouth away from Fred.

Fred whined at once. He bucked his hips, wanting you back – needing you back.

“Why’re you stopping?” he moaned out. It hadn’t even been three seconds and he already missed the feel of your lovely little mouth on his cock. Besides, it felt silly, to lie there in the middle of nowhere, panting and moaning among the reeds and rain, and this pathetic predicament only made sense if you were busy claiming him as yours.

“Because,” you said matter-of-factly, “there’s a reed in my hair.” You reached up and pulled out a single golden reed out of your hair.

Fred blinked in amazement. “You stopped because of that?”

As you tossed the reed away, you looked down at Fred with a stern expression. “Listen here,” you said, while tapping at Fred’s stomach impatiently with your knuckles, “I got up early and did my hair all nice so I could look good in front of your family. I don’t want you messing it up. But you keep grabbing at it and putting things in it - ”

“What?” Fred said indignantly. “When did I put something into your stupid hair?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you replied sarcastically. “Maybe when you were tossing about and grabbing at the reeds like an idiot, just before you went full-blown moron and then reached down and grabbed at my hair while you were still holding the reeds you’d just pulled out of the ground.”

Fred paused. “Did I do that…?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Anyways, keep my hair nice, ‘kay?”

With that, you bent right back down and slid your mouth right back onto his cock.

Fred groaned lowly.

You didn’t wait at all and immediately went back to trying to suck his very soul out of his cock.

Fred tried to keep in mind what you had said about not grabbing at you, but it was so hard when you were working your mouth on him so very fervently. Fred needed to do something, too, to release the intense tension that made his entire body feeling taut and tingly.

Finally, Fred begged, “L-Listen, um, c-could you be good and sit up h-here?”

While keeping his cock in your mouth, you looked up at him.

“Can you sit on my – my face, maybe, while you’re sucking my cock? Just lay down on top of me…” Fred suggested. “So I can eat you – uhn – eat you out, too.” While he spoke, he felt your curious little tongue swirling against the head of his cock.

You shook your head at him.

“P-Please? Wanna taste you… like you’re t-tasting me,” he explained, as if an explanation was necessary.

You gave him a garbled reply, “Nuh. I like the way your cock feels in m’ throat when I’m down here.”

Merlin, save me… Fred pleaded in his head. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he reached out desperately for you – his hands making his way to your hair again.

You pushed his hands back again. “Nuh grabbing.”

“Why?” Fred pushed. “Why not?” Frantically, he offered, “I’ll pat it down and make it all nice for you afterwards, I promise. I promise.”

“Nuh,” you emphasized. “‘S not jus’ that.”

“Then what?” Fred begged. His voice was going hoarse with all of the desperate pleas he was making.

“Reason numb-uh twoh,” you mumbled out in a muffled voice, “ish because it limits m’ head movement.”

Fred let out an annoyed whimper and fell back. Staring up at the sky and watching rain drops come pelting towards the ground, Fred complained, “You’re being fucking terrible to me. You won’t let me taste you or touch you – ah, ah, ah!”

He cut off in a sudden series of harsh gasps for, in that moment, you’d put your hands on his thighs, lifting yourself up a bit higher in the air, and then pushed your head down, as far as you could go. Then, you let out a muffled moan of satisfaction and Fred suddenly felt your warm mouth and throat humming while all wrapped around his cock.

Fred’s hips bucked into the air, forcing his cock even deeper into your throat. At the same time, he lifted himself up from his shoulders up and, reaching down, he grabbed your hair roughly and pushed your head down.

“Mm- mm – mmpfh!” You gasped out loud. You felt your legs fall open and your knees dropped onto the grass on either side of Fred.

Groaning with both relief as he felt his fingers finally sink into your silky, soft hair and gasping with need as his cock ached with the desire to release and cum for you, Fred fucked your mouth as hard as he could, thrusting his hips up into the air while moaning hotly. His cock was painfully stiff – he was about to cum – and he knew the only solution was to push his cock as roughly as he could into the warmth of your soft, pretty mouth.

You gasped, but you let Fred have you this way. You relaxed your throat as much as you could and simply held onto his bucking thighs. You wanted Fred to cum hard for you. You loved the way he came for you – all cute and shivering and helpless, in the sense that he didn’t even seem to know what to do with himself except to hold onto you and bleat out feeble declarations of love, mingled with curses, of course. Besides, the taste of his cum was heavenly. In your head, you encouraged him, as you begged furiously, Gimme, gimme, gimme!

Fred’s groaning became louder as he fucked your throat harder and harder until – He suddenly seized up, with his toes curling tightly in his muddy sneakers, he came hard.

Never one to miss an opportunity, when Fred finally started to release in your mouth, you clamped your mouth right onto his cock and sucked hard, moaning out loudly, “Mmmm!”

Fred literally spasmed for a moment, as the sensations of his cumming and you sucking hard on his cock right when he felt most sensitive and right when he anticipated release, clashed together.

“Uhnn!” he groaned, loud and long.

You pushed your head down as far as you could go, making sure you were getting every last drop of cum right down your throat – Fred was gasping fit to burst and cursing loudly, “Fuck!” - before you finally pulled your mouth up to the very tip of Fred’s cock and you gave his cock a soft, tiny kiss.

Fred’s legs were shaking badly. He was trying his best to come down to earth, but he couldn’t. He reached out to you. Seeing your mussed-up hair, he nearly winced, but there were more pressing things coursing through his mind and body right now. He needed you.

“S-Sit,” he managed to say. “Come s-sit.”

“What?”

Overwhelmed with pure need and unable to wait any longer, Fred suddenly sat up and roughly grabbed you by the front of your shirt. He dragged you forward and kissed you hard on the mouth. You’d barely finished swallowing all of his cum now, and Fred was already greedily claiming your mouth as his in a different way.

You let him kiss you for a minute, but then, you felt like you needed to breathe. Only Fred whimpered and shook his head and kept his mouth insistently pressed against yours, needing you to receive his kisses and help him take the overwhelming tension you’d given him. You scratched hard at Fred’s chest and shoulders and yanked at his shirt, too, to get him to let go of you.

Fred shook his head even more fervently. Still keeping his mouth pressed needily against yours, he grabbed your hips roughly and dragged you up and down against his softening cock.

“Fred,” you mumbled out through your kiss, “what’s – what’s going on…?”

Fred huffed out, between kisses, “Came so hard… Hurts…”

“Oh,” you realized. “Are you – mm – Are you feeling too sensitive, love?”

Fred nodded, relieved that you finally understood.

“Okay. Shush, Fred,” you whispered soothingly. “I’ll take care of you.” You let Fred continue holding onto you, with his head buried against your neck, while you held onto his shoulders and softly rubbed yourself against his cock, comforting him as he came down from his incredible climax.

In fact, this was a rather uncomfortable position for you, and with your knees getting quite scratched-up from the sharper ferns that you were kneeling on. But you didn’t mind. Not one bit. After all, you were with Fred.

Fred…

Slowly, your hands slipped off of his shoulders and you hugged Fred and kissed his head. Fred kept a firm grip at the front of your shirt, keeping you tight to him, but with his other arm, he hugged your waist.

When your head fell back and you let out a soft moan as you kept grinding against Fred, he reached up and fisted your hair in his hands. “Sorry,” he murmured in a ragged voice. “I like fisting your hair too much to keep it ‘nice.’”

You laughed lightly and fell forward again, into Fred’s arms. Hugging him tightly, you whispered, “I know.”

Fred had now calmed down a little (though he was still panting and now, you were panting, too, with the effort of pushing your hips gently against Fred over and over). He reached over to gently wipe your face. “You have rain all over your face, sweetheart.”

“Oh…”

Fred had you tilt your head up a little, so that he kiss your face all over. Although it wasn’t all gentle – Fred bit lightly at your cheeks and then sucked hard at your throat.

“Mm…” you sighed happily. You ran your hands through Fred’s hair, messing it up roughly.

“Hey now,” Fred muttered, while still pressing his mouth to your neck, “what about my hair?”

“You didn’t care to make it all nice in the first place,” you reminded him. “It’s been messy since you woke up and you’ve done nothing to tame it. So shush.”

“But I - ”

“Shush,” you stressed. Grabbing Fred’s face with both of your hands, you leaned down and you kissed him lovingly.

After your kiss, Fred ran his hand down the front of your neck. “You aren’t sore?” he checked with you. “I didn’t meant to thrust quite so hard into your throat. Sorry.”

You shook your head at him. “No. You were so good, Fred. Cumming right in my throat like that.” You squeezed his waist gently with your thighs, as you confirmed, “I loved it.”

Fred leaned in again to kiss you when you abruptly held up your finger and pressed it against his lips.

Fred paused, confused.

“But you know what?” you said.

“Hm?”

“You owe me a new jumper and shirt.”

Fred rolled his eyes. He started to kiss you again, when you pulled away and repeated, “Jumper and shirt. Got it?”

It was only after he agreed with an exasperated, “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” that you allowed yourself to be kissed again – and then you received him most happily.  

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

When you and Fred finally made it back to the Burrow, you looked an absolute sight. In particular, the front of your shirt was drooping very low, despite your best attempts to pull your shirt back to hide the suddenly deep neckline.

Mr. Weasley, Bill, Percy, George, and Ginny were already at the dinner table.

Upon seeing you and Fred, George lifted his eyebrow.

“Gnomes give you a hard time, dear?” Molly asked you.

“Um, yes… I wasn’t expecting them to be so – so grabby.” At the word “grabby,” you shot Fred a condescending look.

Fred plainly smirked at you, not even hiding how pleased he was about how messy you looked. Did you hair all nice to look good? Pft, Fred thought. You won’t be fooling anybody when I’m around. I want everybody to know what a devilish little hellcat you are.

Meanwhile, Arthur said kindly, “Yes, yes, there’s a bit of a learning curve at first. Not to worry. You won’t have to do it again.”

“Oh, no. She enjoyed it,” Fred said matter-of-factly. He reached over and poured out a goblet of pumpkin juice. He pretended to hand it over to you, but when you lifted your hand, he snatched it away and brought it to his own lips. Just before he drank it, he repeated, with a twinkle in his eye, “She enjoyed it very much.”

Bill, the oldest of the family, gave Fred a warning look, as if Fred was being mean to you.

“You’ll have to excuse Fred,” Bill said, shaking his head at his younger brother’s behavior. “He’s a bit of a sadist.”

“Yes,” Percy agreed in a clipped voice. “It’s confusing to the rest of us, see, because we don’t know where it comes from.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding understandingly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You sat down next to Ginny and poured yourself a goblet of pumpkin juice. Your throat felt very parched, after all of the use you’d put it to less than an hour ago.

As you set the goblet down (after gulping down the contents), your eyes naturally met Fred’s.

Fred smirked and mouthed at you, over the goblet of pumpkin juice, “If only they knew.”

Turning away from Fred, you haughtily hiked up the front of your shirt again and held your head up high in a dignified manner, as you settled in for dinner with the Weasley family.  

Tagged User(s):  @saltstacks  

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

A Nameday

Luci Littlefoot Currai is celebrating her nameday. Set during 4.0. SFW.

Luci Littlefoot Currai sat in her favorite chair and was doing some knitting before guests arrived. I’ve invited neighbors, friends, and family over for my nameday. And I’m not saying how old I am! I’m still young at heart! Though Luci was excited (and had prepped many snacks and little desserts), she was feeling melancholy because the two most important people in her life would not be there. Corrai I know is waiting for me on the other side…then we’ll be together again.

The other person was her daughter Agnes, who was in the Far East on assignment from the Scions. She’d been gone for quite a few moons now and had no idea when she would return. Agi, my little baby girl…please be safe. I pray for you and your friends all the time. Please come home to me in one piece. I know you can kick massive ass, sweetie, but be careful!

Luci was taken out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. “One bloody minute!” She shouted, tossing her knitting on her basket of yarn and hopping down from her chair. When she opened the door, a Delivery Moogle was struggling to drag a box inside.

“So sorry, kupo! Delivery for Luci Currai from Kugane!”

Kugane? Agi! Oh Agi, you didn’t have to… “For fuck’s sake, I’ll deal with the box.” Luci said, reaching into a pocket for some gil to give to the Delivery Moogle as a tip. Give some love, get some love! That’s what I always say. “Here you go, sweetie.”

The moogle was clearly very happy and spun in the air. “Thank you, kupo! Have a pleasant day!” The moogle then teleported, leaving Luci to drag the box inside.

Taking a knife from the kitchen, she slashed open the box to find several gifts. “Oh!” A fine dark blue silk robe, a Hingan tea set, and a matching highly decorated hairpin and earrings were in the box along with an envelope addressed to “Mum.”

Agi. My sweet baby girl.

Luci ripped open the envelope to read the letter:

Dear Mum,

Happy Nameday! 😊 I’m so sorry that I can’t be there to celebrate with everyone. When we arrived in Kugane, I bought you gifts for your nameday and Starlight and instructed Tataru to send them in case we’re still…you know. Out of contact. I know what you’re going to say, “AGI HOW DARE YOU SPEND SO MUCH GIL ON ME?!?!?” And to that I’d say, “But Mum, you’re worth it!” I can absolutely picture you having some lovely tea in your new authentic Hingan tea set wearing a new lovely robe and the hairpin and earrings. You deserve to relax.

I also wanted you to know that I love you so much. I’m so grateful that you’re my Mum. You are the best Mum in the whole world. I can’t wait to come home and snuggle on the couch with you and gossip about shit. Until then, pray enjoy my gifts and remember this---I carry you in my heart wherever I go.

Your loving daughter,

Agi

Tears streamed down Luci’s face as she held the letter close to her chest, shutting her eyes. Oh Agi. You should be thinking of yourself and your young man, not me. I’ll be okay. Nald’Thal, hear my prayer---protect my baby and her partner. Protect them and let them live a happy life together.

Luci chuckled to herself. My baby. No matter how tall she is or how old she gets, Agi will always be my baby. She put the letter back in the envelope and walked to a rather unassuming looking drawer and placed the letter in it. All her letters. Every single one.

Smiling softly, Luci glanced in the direction of Agnes’s room. Luci ensured that her bed had fresh sheets, her clothes that remained at home were clean, and everything was dusted. Never know when she…Cor always said Agi finds her way home no matter what…and one day, hopefully soon, she will be. And we can celebrate a very belated nameday together with cake and cookies and drinks and tons of juicy gossip and stories!

And Estinien too, if he’s not being a grumpy puss.

[regenderate-fic]

When I Run Away (You're Who I Run To): Chapter 3

main post read on ao3

Word Count (Chapter): 2,976

The sun was just beginning to set when Yaz and Rose made their way up to Penny’s place, exchanging nervous glances. Penny’s flat was a lot like theirs: a door leading to a narrow stairwell leading to another door, on which Rose knocked three times. 

The door swung open, revealing a very excitable Penny. She ushered Yaz and Rose inside, already talking a mile a minute: “Hello! Brilliant to see you. We haven't had people around here in ages. Missed it, honestly.”

She kept talking, introducing the space, pointing at plants and bits of art, while Yaz looked around. It was a small space, and cozy: they'd emerged into a living area, with an overstuffed purple sofa in front of a coffee table covered in potted plants. The walls were lined with bookshelves, most of which were stuffed with books, but some of which featured pictures of Penny, Donna, and a few unfamiliar faces, and others of which were piled high with board games, art supplies, and what looked like random bits of circuitry and machinery. It was all lit in a warm amber, the sort you’d get from cuddling up to a campfire in the middle of winter, and Yaz couldn’t help but feel at home. 

Penny trailed off, and Yaz took the opportunity to hold up a jar she’d been carrying under her arm. 

“My mum always drilled it into my head never to show up anywhere empty handed,” she explained. “Except we weren't sure what to bring, so I just packaged up some of the chai my nan sends me. Thought you might like it.”

Penny's mouth dropped open. “Yaz, I can't take something you got from your nan.”

Yaz shifted her weight. “She sort of sends me more than we can use,” she said. “There’s loads more where that came from.”

“She sounds brilliant,” Penny said, dead serious. She took the jar from Yaz. “Thank you.” She stared through the glass at the mix of spices and tea. “I suppose this is the sort of thing you have with lots of milk?”

“I'll show you how we make it later,” Yaz promised. “If you want, anyway.”

“Yasmin Khan,” Penny said, still dead serious. “That would be brilliant.”

Yaz smiled. 

Penny had stilled, just for a moment, but now she leapt into action. “C’mon,” she said. “I’ll show you the kitchen.” 

The kitchen itself was a mess. There was a cluttered table shoved into the space, leaving barely any room to stand at the counter— and the counters themselves were full of pans stacked on top of each other, baking sheets piled in the drying rack, flour sitting out. Donna was at the stove, poking at what looked like pasta in a thick red sauce; it smelled amazing. 

“Donna, we’ve got company!” Penny exclaimed. She set down the jar Yaz had given her on the counter. 

Donna turned, still holding the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir. “Oh, we do, do we?” She grinned at Yaz and Rose. “Welcome. Food’s almost done.” 

“Smells good,” Rose said. 

“Thanks.” Donna leaned forward. “Be glad I’m the one cooking. Who knows what Penny would’ve subjected you to?”

“Oi, which of us went to culinary school?” Penny protested.

“All the culinary school in the world can’t provide taste,” Donna replied. She raised her eyebrows. “Remember when you tried to mix tofu with peanut butter? And not a proper sauce, either.”

“That was all about the texture,” Penny insisted. 

Donna guffawed. “Who on Earth would think that’s a good texture?”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Table’s through here,” she said to Yaz and Rose, carefully ignoring Donna’s continued laughter. She led Yaz and Rose into a space just big enough for a table that seated four, currently set with a blue tablecloth, silverware and plates and bowls, and two tall candles in the center. There was a big window on one side, framed with red curtains and looking out on the street, and a framed art print of an abstract design in shades of blue and orange. Penny sat in one of the chairs, and Yaz and Rose followed her lead.

“How long have you and Donna known each other?” Rose asked, fiddling with her napkin. 

“Oh, since we were about sixteen,” Penny said. She waved a hand. “It’s a long story. Her family helped me out. Honestly, we’re basically siblings at this point. Or cousins. I usually tell people she’s my cousin.” 

“You get along better than me and my sister,” Yaz noted. She and Sonya cared about each other, but Yaz couldn’t imagine actually sharing a flat with her. “Or any of my cousins.”

Penny shrugged. “We work together well enough. Always have. One time when we were in school together we got assigned a science project, and we wound up making this huge diorama of the solar system in Donna’s grandad’s kitchen. Was brilliant. And then it broke in half on the bus to school, and we had to patch it up in the hallway.” She waved a hand. “Still, we managed the A. These days I think Donna just stays in my life to make sure I get decent coffee for the shop.” 

“Donna picks the coffee?” Rose asked. 

Penny nodded. “You heard her, didn’t you? I’ve got no taste, apparently. Just ‘cause I like some milk and sugar—”

“You barely put any coffee in there!” Donna had entered, carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and four glasses in the other. “Honestly. Leave the coffee selection to the people who actually drink it.”

“I drink it!” Penny protested. 

Donna shook her head. She set down the wine and glasses on the table.

“You think you drink it,” she said. “But I’ve seen how much actual coffee goes into your cups.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll right back,” she said. She pushed herself to her feet and ran into the kitchen, returning seconds later with a loaf of challah much like the one Rose had bought that morning, sitting on a cutting board. She set it down on the table, a little out of breath.

“Think we’re close enough to sunset?” she asked Donna.

Donna peered out the window. “Sure.”

“You know you can look up when the sun sets online,” Rose said. 

Penny shook her head. “Where’s the fun in that?” She pulled out a box of matches. “Right. You two done this before?”

Yaz shook her head, but Rose nodded.

“You have?” Yaz asked.

Rose nodded again. “Back when I was with Mickey,” she explained. “He used to let his bandmates stay with him sometimes, ‘cause they didn’t have great relationships with their families, some of them. There was one friend— Sally, do you remember her? —he had her living with him for months who would have us all come round on Friday nights. We used to pitch in to help her get the bread and stuff. It’s a good memory.”

“Oh, right.” Yaz had just barely known Rose when she and Mickey had broken up— Rose had kept the friend group for a little while, but they’d sort of dissolved before Yaz and Rose got really close. Yaz had known Sally, in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, but not in an invited-to-Shabbat sort of way. She’d seemed nice, though. 

“It’s not too complicated,” Donna said to Yaz. “We light the candles, there’s a bit of prayer, there’s wine, there’s bread.”

Yaz exchanged a glance with Rose. 

“Yaz doesn’t really do alcohol,” Rose said. “Is that all right?”

“Oh!” Penny dropped the matches on the table. “Sorry, Yaz, I should’ve asked this morning. Donna, do we still have the grape juice from when your cousins were over?” Without waiting for an answer, she darted back into the kitchen. Yaz could hear the doors of cabinets and fridges opening, and then the sound of things being moved around, and then Penny came back in, holding a bottle of grape soda. “I think this’ll have to do.” She opened it, poured a little bit into one of the wine glasses, and then said, “You don’t have to drink it, honest. Just don’t want you to feel left out.”

“I feel like I’m learning a lot about your taste tonight,” Yaz joked. 

She did drink it, in the end: she listened as Penny and Donna sang blessings and Rose fumbled along, getting about half the words right, and she sipped from the grape soda ( not her favorite flavor, but all right under the circumstances), and she took a piece of the challah, which was in fact delicious: Penny’s skill as a baker was inarguable. 

“I see why you’re the best around,” Rose said.

Penny beamed. She moved the candles to the window ledge, and Donna went back into the kitchen and brought out a big serving bowl. “Oi, move the other stuff over,” she said.

Penny shifted the challah and wine bottle so that there was room for the bowl.

“Right.” Donna set down the bowl. “Help yourselves.”

Rose reached for the bowl, dishing out a helping of the pasta Donna had made. Once she was done, she passed the bowl to Yaz, who did the same. There wasn’t much talking as they started eating— until Donna jabbed her fork in Yaz’s and Rose’s direction and said, “Right, then. I’ve got to learn more about you two.” She gave Penny a look. “Considering how much this one seems to talk about you.”

“I don’t talk about you that much,” Penny protested.

Donna rolled her eyes. “You haven’t shut up since they agreed to come to dinner.” 

Penny looked down at her plate, her mouth pressed into a line. 

“Not sure we’re all that interesting,” Rose said. She glanced at Yaz. “I dunno. What do you want to know?”

Donna paused for a moment, thinking. “How’d you meet?” she asked.

“Working at the same shop,” Rose said. “Back when we were both really new.”

“I was just off my apprenticeship,” Yaz added. 

“Right, and they brought me on ‘cause their old piercer retired or something.” Rose took a bite of her food. “First day, I walk into the break room, Yaz is in there arguing with a coworker about whether or not blood is blue until it hits the air.”

“It’s obviously not, by the way,” Yaz added. “Don’t know how Dan managed to spend twenty years as a tattoo artist without figuring out that blood is pretty much always red.”

“And then they tried to get me to weigh in,” Rose said. “Except I was all, ‘Don’t ask me, I haven’t even got my A-levels,’ and then I got on the shop’s computer and Googled it, and, I dunno, I guess we were friends from there.”

“Good story,” Penny said. She was fiddling with her fork, poking at the pasta. 

“Why’d you come to London, then?” Donna asked Yaz. “I mean, not to assume or anything, but you sound like you’re from a bit further north.”

“I am,” Yaz said. “Technically I came for the apprenticeship. Really I was just trying to get away from my family, I suppose.” She hesitated. “I mean, not that there’s really anything wrong with them. Just— needed space. Anyway, it’s a good thing I did come here, ‘cause otherwise I never would’ve met Rose, and we never would’ve opened our shop together.”

“Where are you from, then?” Penny asked, eyeing Yaz. “Sheffield?”

“Right in one,” Yaz said. “Impressive.” She nodded to Penny. “How about you?” 

“Huddersfield, round about,” Penny said. “Except I might as well be from London, if it weren’t for the accent. Lived here since I was sixteen, haven’t I?” She scrunched up her face. “Wish I could just tell people I was from here.”

“Who’s stopping you?” Donna asked. “You say you’re from London, and if they ask about the accent, you just pretend it’s a perfectly normal London accent. Makes them look rude. Eventually, people stop asking. Easy.”

Penny tilted her head to the side. “Could work. Not sure it’d be worth it.”

“I’ll back you up, if it comes to that,” Yaz offered. “Tell people we’re from the secret north bit of London.”

Rose laughed. “‘Course, the illusion will be shattered once they get on Google Maps and realize it doesn’t exist.”

“That’s the secret bit, isn’t it?” Penny grinned. “Anyway, it won’t matter. Once they’ve left our shops, who cares what they think? We can definitely get away with this.” 

“Would be more fun than explaining the real story,” Yaz said. She looked at Penny. “I think we’ve got a plan.”

“Brilliant. Can’t wait.” Penny raised her eyebrows at Yaz. “You’d better follow through. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Yaz grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Brilliant,” Penny said again, and she shoved a truly astonishing amount of pasta into her mouth. 

After dinner, they lingered. Yaz was comfortable and full, and she was very much enjoying the conversation: Penny turned out to have no shortage of entertaining anecdotes from her time in culinary school and running the bakery, with sidebars and elaboration and further (often embarrassing) anecdotes of the both of them from Donna, and she showed a complete and earnest interest in anything Yaz and Rose had to say. It was a little disarming, the way she looked at Yaz when she talked. Yaz could’ve stayed all night, really, but then she checked her watch and realized what time it was. She tugged at Rose’s arm. “We’ve got to go if we want to be ready for tomorrow.”

“Oh, do you?” Penny looked genuinely disappointed at the prospect.

“Hey, we’re just across the street,” Rose said. “Come by tomorrow, even. We’ll be busy, but you might have fun.”

“At the very least it makes us look like we’ve got clients,” Yaz added. 

“Oh, brilliant.” Penny nudged Donna. “D’you want to come to their thing with me tomorrow?”

Donna shook her head. “I’ve got plans,” she said. “Me, face mask, magazines. Sorry.”

“We make Graham run the shop on Saturdays,” Penny explained. “Day of rest, and all that.” 

“Not if you’re Graham,” Yaz joked.

Penny shrugged. “He gets Sunday and Monday off. It all evens out in the end. And it’s theologically sound, considering.”

“We’d be happy to see either of you,” Rose said. “But you don’t have to come, of course.” She stood, holding out a hand to help Yaz up. “Thanks for inviting us tonight.”

“Yeah, I had fun,” Yaz said. “We’ll see you later?”

“Won’t be able to get rid of us,” Penny said. She got to her feet and walked them to the door. “Tomorrow,” she promised as Yaz and Rose stepped out into the hall.

“See you then,” Rose said. 

They took their time walking back across the street, still languishing in the contentment of the evening— at least, until Rose nudged Yaz and said, “You know, Penny was flirting with you.”

Yaz could feel the heat rushing to her face. “She was not .”

Rose danced in front of Yaz, walking backward so she could stare Yaz down and, lowering her voice in an imitation of Penny’s fervent tone, said, “ Yasmin Khan. That would be brilliant. ”

“That wasn’t—” Yaz flustered. “I’m pretty sure she’s just like that.”

Rose stepped back to walk at Yaz’s side again. “I don't know. It looked like flirting to me.”

“I thought you were into her,” Yaz said.

“Sure I am,” Rose replied. “Doesn’t do much if she’s not into me .”

Yaz glanced at her. “Considering you’re the one actually into women, I think you’ve got a shot.” 

“Oh, I don't know,” Rose said, and now Yaz could hear the smile in her voice. “If you’re not into her, why did you get all flustered when I said she was flirting?”

“I didn’t—” By now they were almost to the top of the steps to their flat. As soon as they reached the landing, Yaz bumped against Rose in a gentle shove. “Stop trying to convince me I’m into women.”

“Stop trying to convince me you’re not,” Rose said with a grin.

Yaz rolled her eyes. “Still pretty sure I’d know better than you.” 

“That’s what you think.” It was an old argument by now, worn comfortably in like a threadbare armchair— Rose was openly and unabashedly bisexual, and for years now she’d been insisting Yaz had to have feelings for other women. “But as your best friend, I know things about you you don’t even know about yourself. Like how you haven’t had a boyfriend in years . And how I saw you staring at that butch I brought home last year—”

“I was just trying to figure out where I knew her from,” Yaz protested. They’d stopped in the middle of the living room, and now Yaz was leaning against the back of the couch while Rose stood in front of her.

Rose shook her head. “I know what it looks like when you’re trying to figure out where you know someone from.” She raised her eyebrows. “Best friend, remember?” 

Yaz rolled her eyes.

“ And —” Rose got closer, her eyes huge in Yaz’s frame of vision— “if you were really straight, why would you get flustered when I said Penny was flirting?”

Yaz pushed her away, shaking her head affectionately. “You just don’t want to admit you’ve spent the last four years living with a straight girl.”

“It’s called having a roommate,” Rose scoffed. “ You just don’t want to admit you’ve been wrong this whole time.”

“Whatever.” Yaz pushed off the back of the couch, flicking at Rose’s shoulder as she went. “I’ve got to get to bed. My nonexistent attraction to women can wait ‘til morning.”

“It’s been waiting long enough,” Rose called after her. 

Yaz pulled the door to her room closed and flopped back on her bed, still smiling.

[neonvqmpire]

i want whoever decided to sell and market mixed fabric instead of pure cotton for bed sheets and duvet covers to never have a good sleep ever again because i cant sleep in this shit

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime — Fourteen // Wanda Maximoff

chapter thirteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | epilogue

author’s note: the last chapter is finally here! i hope you like it 😊

There were many times when I'd get distracted by thoughts of Wanda.

I could be going for a walk and remember that time she tripped over the flat pavement, almost bringing me down with her. I could be shopping for stationary and remember that time she almost bought the whole shop in one visit. I could be sitting by the water fountain and remember that time she tried to make a wish, only to drop her whole purse in it.

This time, I'd just woken up to the sun streaming through my curtains. I rolled over to an empty bed, hand brushing against the cold sheets as they expected more. For some reason, my subconscious decided to taunt me with a memory taking place just after we'd first made love in her room...

"I love you so much," Wanda told me with an enchanting smile.

I turned to face her, one arm comfortable under the pillow as the other rested outside the duvet, covering my bare chest. She raised her hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before resting her hand there. I smiled at the contact and felt a warmth spreading all over me at the affectionate gaze she sent my way.

"I know, love, you only said it several times," I teased lightly, making her chuckle. "I love you, too, though, in case you didn't know."

She sighed contently, eyes closing. I admired how beautiful she looked with her hair sprawled over her bare shoulders, smile on her lips and freckles dusting her skin. Her touch still ghosted my body, taste still embedded between my lips, scent still wavering in my nose. She was permanent and I was certain she'd never leave.

"We should probably get up in case somebody comes to check on us," she said, interrupting my moment of admiration.

Her eyes flickered open slowly, blue with golden flecks glistening right back at me. Suddenly, anything that happened after this didn't matter to me. For once, I appreciated where we were, what we had and nothing more or less. No wedding, no future... just now.

"We should," I agreed regretfully, though her leg moved closer to mine and made me wish we could stay here longer. "I wish we didn't have to."

She smiled halfheartedly, hand moving down my cheek, caressing the skin, before they rested at my chin. She outlined my lips with her thumb before leaning forward and stealing a kiss.

"Can't we have a few more minutes?" she asked, lips brushing mine as she spoke.

She was making it very hard to deny her and judging from the playful smirk on her lips, she knew that.

"I guess we can," I agreed quietly, making her smile with satisfaction.

She rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss as her bare chest pressed to mine and my hand found her waist for support. As usual, the effect she had on me was indescribable and I couldn't imagine us ever leaving the bed. I knew for sure that I'd never been happier than I was in that moment.

It was such a perfect moment, but it haunted me. Nothing felt right without her. She'd overwhelmed all of my senses and remained, even when I didn't have her by me in person. The wedding was literally in a few weeks, but I hadn't managed to get over her.

How could I be her maid of honour when I could barely speak to her? Not without wanting to curl in a ball and cry afterwards. Every thing I did seemed to be filled with memories of her. She was inescapable.

A groan left my lips as I dragged my hand down my face with frustration. I couldn't let her get to me yet again. I had an interview with the local paper today. The last thing I needed was Wanda as a distraction.

So, with that lovely thought lingering in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

—

Press interviews weren't something I was used to.

Whenever Y/B/N had them with journalists for his books, I wasn't present. The only thing I heard was when he came back and told me how it went, then I proceeded to read about it in the paper the next day.

I was sat in Steve's office at Maximoff Publishing with Steve sat by my side, sending me a supportive smile. A journalist from the local paper sat before us, notebook and pen in hand as he watched on with curious eyes.

"So, Y/N," he began. "I'll start with the obvious, if you don't mind."

I glanced at Steve who nodded encouragingly. Clearing my throat, I looked to the journalist. "Sure thing."

He smiled and glanced at his notebook before asking, "How does it feel to be published? You're Pietro Maximoff's first female author."

"An author who happens to be female," I corrected, hoping I didn't come off as rude. "And that isn't something that should be new, in my opinion. It should be normalised."

He nodded, noting it down in his notebook. "Controversy... I like it."

Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I think the readers would like to know how you managed to score a publisher," he began his next question. "How exactly did you get noticed amongst the many authors that look to be published?"

Okay, not so difficult, I could answer that.

"Well, it was actually my–" I paused, Wanda's face flashing to mind. Okay, maybe a little difficult.

"Your...?" the journalist prompted.

I blinked, attempting to find my words.

"Wanda," Steve answered, starting me off.

I looked to him with grateful eyes before looking back to the journalist. "Right. Yes. Wanda."

"Your brother's fiancé, right?" the journalist asked for clarification.

"Yes," I answered, with an accidental clipped tone. "She... she was the one who gave my work to her brother. Asked him to look at it. And the rest is history."

The journalist was making notes as I spoke, nodding and humming in response, before looking to me with raised brows.

"So, the wedding," he said, making me wince subtly. "Are you excited?"

Forcing a smile, I said, "Ecstatic."

"How does it feel to have your two families uniting?" he asked, and I chewed on my lips, unsure how to respond.

"I– er–"

"Are you afraid that Y/B/N marrying Wanda may put him in Pietro's good graces?" he interrupted eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't land me in hot water or make me look like a jealous sibling. Glancing to Steve questioningly, he thankfully noticed my speechlessness and gave the journalist a warning stare.

"Can you stay on topic, please?" he asked the keen journalist. "Y/N is here to talk about her book and nothing more."

"Okay, okay," the journalist gave in, making me exhale slowly. "What's next in store for your readers, Y/N? A sequel, perhaps?"

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "I'm still in awe at the reception from the first one."

He nodded, note taking as he listened. "How many books do you think you'll get out of your career before getting married like your brother?"

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. But I didn't get to answer as he was already moving onto his next question.

"Are you not worried about getting married? You know, men don't like smart women."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I clenched my fists by my side and was very close to strangling him before we were interrupted. A servant whom I recognised from home knocked on the door and earned everyone's attention.

"Oh, tell him to go away," the journalist said dismissively, waving his hand.

Steve looked to me and I plastered a bitter smile on my lips as I glanced at the journalist.

"I'd let him in if I were you," I told Steve, and he seemed to understand that I was about to pummel the journalist if I wasn't distracted, because he nodded and motioned for the servant to enter.

The journalist sighed rudely and I clenched my jaw before looking to the servant with a quirked brow. He looked out of breath, panting for air and face flushed red.

"Did you run here?" I realised, cocking my head to the side with confusion.

He nodded, straightening up and attempting to catch his breath. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Very sorry to interrupt, but your mother insisted I hurry."

My eyes widened. "Oh, God, what happened? Is she okay?"

"Kind of," he answered, before clarifying, "The wedding between your brother and Miss Maximoff has been cancelled."

"What?!" everyone in the room asked at the same time.

What did he mean the wedding had been cancelled?! Wanda and Y/B/N weren't going to get married?

"I don't know the details," the servant got out quickly. "I just know that your mother sent me to fetch you as soon as possible. She's distraught and requires you home immediately."

I nodded instantly, already making a move to stand up, then I remembered where I was.

"You mustn't publish anything you just heard," I told the journalist with a stern finger, but he seemed over the moon at the news.

"Go, Y/N, your mother needs you," Steve said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he, too, stood up. He side-eyed the journalist as he added, "I'll take care of this tool."

At that, the journalist's eyes widened with fear and judging from the smirk on Steve's lips, I knew things would be okay.

"Thank you," I told him, hugging him quickly, before looking to the servant. "I'll go now. Thank you."

After giving the servant some money to grab a treat and calm him from his breathless state, I got a carriage home with my mind racing a million thoughts a minute.

Why was the wedding off? My mum was distraught, according to the servant, so that could only mean it hadn't been her choice. Was it Y/B/N? Had he broken it off? Or maybe it was Wanda? But no. She'd never do that. She wouldn't hurt her family like that.

I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't know how to feel. This could either be heavily in my favour or go against me in the worst way possible...

When I arrived home, I found my family in the dining room. My mum was sat down, upset and shaking her head in her hands, tear marks on her face. My dad was sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering calming things to her as my brother stood to the side, looking apologetic and uncomfortable.

"It's okay, mum, it'll be okay," he was saying to her from across the table. "It's not a big deal. I can find somebody–"

"Hello...," I began awkwardly, standing in the doorway and hesitant to move forward. "I just got the news from our servant. What happened?"

"Oh, Y/N, you shouldn't have–" my father began regretfully, before my mum slammed her hand on the table and glared at my brother.

"Y/B/N broke off the engagement!" she shouted with frustration.

"There you go...," my dad mumbled before returning his attention to his wife.

"Mum, I–"

"You did what?!" I cut Y/B/N off with raised brows. "You broke off the engagement? You dumped Wanda?"

He looked to me with sad eyes. "Y/N–"

"You idiot!" I shouted, feeling angry as I imagined the effect this must have had on the Maximoff family. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you–?!"

He grabbed my waving arm and dragged me out of the dining room, making me shove him off when we reached the hall.

"Why the hell did you break it off?!" I yelled at him with a glare. "Why would you–"

"I didn't!" he whisper-shouted back, looking down at me with a downcast expression. "She did!"

My anger faded as I realised he was telling the truth. He looked genuinely hurt, eyes glassy and a frown on his lips. Wanda was the one to break it off? What?

"She broke it off with me," he elaborated quietly, so our parents couldn't hear. "She told me this morning. She said she didn't love me and that she couldn't marry me."

I swallowed hard, looking away from him momentarily. "Why did you tell mum and dad that it was you who broke up with her?"

He pinched his forehead with agitation. "Because it looks a lot less foolish if I say it was me rather than her. She doesn't love me, Y/N. She never did."

I risked looking at him, seeing his disheartened expression. Part of me felt guilty because I knew it was my fault this had happened, but I couldn't exactly say that to him, so I stayed quiet. He shook his head once more before walking away, leaving me standing there with shock.

"Er, Miss Y/L/N?"

I spun around when one of our servants approached me.

"I know now isn't the best time," she began, "but a letter came for you earlier. I left it on your desk as you were at work."

Nodding, I offered the servant a halfhearted smile before watching her leave. There was so much to unpack right now...

I headed upstairs and to my room to see what letter was here for me. But I was finding it hard to focus since all that was on my mind was the broken engagement and Y/B/N and Wanda... I needed to see her. What the hell was I doing here?

Planning on going to see Wanda as soon as possible, I grabbed the letter from my desk with the intention of reading it on the way out, but then I recognised the handwriting on the front and paused at my desk.

It was Wanda's handwriting.

I hurried to tear open the envelope, wondering what she had to say. It was no doubt related to the broken engagement.

Dearest Y/N,

I hope that you manage to read this letter before you hear the news, but knowing our families, you'll read it afterwards. In which case, you will know that I have broken off the engagement with Y/B/N.

It was the right thing to do. I chose to do it and I'm sorry if it's caused tension between your brother and your family, but I knew that I couldn't go forward with it when I'm in love with you. I'm not expecting you to come back to me and run away together all dramatically – this isn't about that.

I did this for myself. I'm not in love with your brother and I never was. He should have known that. He had to. Because if not, I'm afraid I broke his heart. And that's the last thing I wanted.

I also did this for you. I need you to know that I'm not heartless or horrible and I didn't expect you to sacrifice anything for me. Cheating on your brother with you... I never meant for this to happen, nor did I mean to get in the way of you both. Falling in love with you was completely accidental, but I don't regret it.

I don't want to go on too much, but I just needed you to know the truth, from me, that I am truly sorry for causing you such pain. I'm still in love with you and I'll never forget what we had. In another lifetime, maybe we could have worked. I'm certain that you were always perfect for me, as was what we had. You are magic, Y/N. I just wasn't powerful enough to keep you.

When I finished reading, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. She'd ended it there and I didn't know what to think. My heart was racing, mind adjusting too slowly for my liking. She'd broke it off with him for me. I knew she loved me, but I guess I'd never realised just how much.

After recovering from my shock, I put the letter away and left for Wanda's, not bothering to tell my family where I was going. My dad was attempting to console my disappointed mother as Y/B/N moped around somewhere else, so I took that as my chance to nip out without them noticing.

I was trying to plan what to say to her – I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her. She said she didn't expect me to get back with her, and even without Y/B/N and their engagement in the way, we still couldn't be together. Not like how we wanted to be. But I wanted to. I wanted her. All this time without her had been heartbreaking – I didn't want to leave her again. I didn't know the specifics of how we would work, but we could work. We had to.

When I reached her house, it was her mother who opened the door. And that's when I realised that I wasn't sure if she blamed Y/B/N or her daughter for the engagement breaking apart.

"Iryna, hi," I greeted with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time–"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," she cut me off, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

I nodded with mild confusion, returning the hug, before pulling away.

"I'm so sorry for the pain Wanda has caused to your family," she said regretfully. "I hope that your parents aren't as distraught as we are."

I eyed her strangely, still not sure what Wanda had told her. Either way, I didn't bother questioning it as my urgency to see Wanda was overpowering my curiosity.

"It's okay, Iryna, there's no need to apologise," I reassured her. "My family will be okay... I just thought I'd come and check in on Wanda. It's a lot, what happened."

She nodded sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're such a good friend to her." She stood to the side to let me in. "Go on up. She's in her room. Hasn't come out since this morning."

I offered a small, awkward smile Iryna's way before letting myself in and going upstairs to Wanda's room. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry – stupidly juxtaposed – when I stopped before Wanda's door. On the way over here, I still hadn't decided what to say. I figured it would just come to me when I saw her. One could hope.

Knocking on the door, I heard her sweet, accented voice give me permission to enter. My stomach flipped at the sound and I did as she said. Closing the door behind me, I turned and saw Wanda sat at a stool before a canvas.

Noticing I didn't say anything, she glanced over her shoulder casually, probably expecting a family member. She widened her eyes when she realised it was me and immediately stood up, smoothing out her paint-covered smock in an attempt to look neater. The simple action warmed my heart – she was adorable and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," I said quietly.

She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "Hey. I didn't– what are– hi."

I let my eyes wander, admiring her messy ponytail and the strokes of paint on her face that she definitely wasn't aware of. She was stunning, even with her confused eyes and pursed lips. Better yet, her hand was ring-free and I was reminded of the fact that she wasn't engaged anymore.

"I assume you're here because you read the letter," she began apologetically, but I didn't let her finish because the longer I was in her presence, the more I realised I wanted to kiss her.

Approaching her, I found her eyes before pressing my lips to hers. My hands cupped her cheeks as I held her close, revelling in her taste and scent and touch. She was quick to react, her fingers curling around my waist and tugging me towards her, squeezing our bodies together. Breathing became a problem and we regretfully had to pull away, but remained close enough to exchange breaths and swim in each other's eyes. I'd never been more relieved to see the colour green.

"You're not mad," she realised, looking between my eyes as if trying to search for some anger.

"How can I be mad that you broke off your engagement for me, knowing we can never be together in the way that you deserve?" I asked with disbelief.

She smiled beautifully, making my heart flutter in my chest. "You still love me."

I stole another kiss from her lips. "I never stopped, Wanda. Of course I still love you."

She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes peacefully. "Thank you for coming back."

I laughed, feeling tears brim my eyes. "I'm not leaving again, love. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise you that."

Wanda Maximoff deserved the world. And I was going to give it to her in this lifetime and beyond.

[moririki]

⤷ AN EIGHT-LEGGED PROBLEM

OIKAWA TOORU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI & HAIBA LEV & MIYA ATSUMU X READER -> 1.8K
you save your boyfriend from a massive problem which is currently in the corner of your bathroom )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> spiders, bugs, you picking up said creepy crawlies, hq boys being no! help! at! all! (but that's ok bc we love them for it), fanon-ish sakusa cos i haven't read the manga and he had like 5 seconds of screen time so i'm just going off of what i've read + seen, clear favouritism despite the fact that i know basically nothing about sakusa, manga timeskip spoilers in sakusa's
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> haven't seen one where the reader is the one in the relationship who takes care of bugs so since i'm a #girlboss who throws spiders out of my room whenever i see them without breaking a sweat i'm writing that into a fun lil thing with the haikyuu boys that i strongly believe are scared of bugs. also besides the point but look at the pretty colour palette that their banners make fjfjfjdj will go back to writing the requests after this! inspiration just struck

❍ OIKAWA TOORU

-> omg this fucking guy

-> don't let his pride fool you this man HATES bugs with a burning passion

-> he'll never admit it though

-> between you and the aoba johsai team he would never hear the end of how the great king oikawa would cower at the sight of a moth doing laps around a lightbulb

-> so when you pretended not to hear the shriek that left your boyfriend when he saw something flying around the bathroom light and he declined your offer to get rid of the moth for him, this left oikawa in a pretty difficult situation

-> it was just him alone in the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth while eyeing the bug warily

-> you came in a few minutes later, getting ready to go to bed as well

-> "you know, babe, that moth's been there for quite a while," you teased him

-> oikawa hummed in response, his eyes never leaving it as it continued its circumnavigation of the light fixture

-> "oh, you know. who am i to kick someone out of their home? i'm no monster"

-> you almost snorted at how poor of an excuse that was, but ruffled your boyfriend's hair anyway

-> "i'll take care of it, ru, you just finish getting ready"

-> "but y/n-chan, that moth has feelings! don't be mean to it!"

-> you gave tooru a very blank stare at that

-> "so do you want me to leave you alone with your new friend?"

-> "......no"

-> "that's what i thought"

-> you went up to the moth, managing to trap it in your hands before releasing it from a window

-> oikawa shuddered as you came back to the sink, giving your hands a quick rinse before resuming with brushing your teeth like nothing had happened

-> "you're so brave, my love"

-> "anything for you, babe"

❍ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> bless this poor boy

-> so it's no secret that sakusa isn't the fondest of germs

-> and that extends to bugs and spiders too

-> besides a normal amount of disgust that he held for them, the thought of where the insects had been or placed one of their many feet on never failed to make his skin crawl

-> that's where you, his wonderful significant other, comes in

-> as much as he loves you, he just can't understand how you always stared at bugs with wonder in your eyes

-> you'd even pick them up, cooing at the way they crawled up your arm while sakusa just stared at you in disbelief with a can of bug spray in hand

-> tonight was one of those swelteringly hot summer nights

-> you know, the ones where the air seems to be still no matter how many windows you open and every insect in a mile radius is actively trying to enter your home

-> you were spending the night at your boyfriend's apartment, ready to have a relaxing night in with him since your schedules had finally synced up and allowed you both to enjoy a day off at the same time

-> it took months of trust before sakusa finally admitted to you how much he enjoyed doing skincare

-> so whenever you two spent the night together, you decided to start the evening with some face masks and idle binging of a tv show

-> against his half-hearted protests, you had insisted that sakusa wore a headband while this happened (one that had a very cute duck face printed on it)

-> just to keep the curls out of his face, of course

-> whenever he caught you sneaking a candid of him with facemask and duck headband on, he just shot you a halfhearted glare and threatened you to never send that to atsumu or the rest of the msby team

-> (you set it as your home screen instead)

-> anyways, i digress

-> so tonight you decided to cool down from the heat with a few facemasks and cuddling in your boyfriend's heavily air conditioned living room

-> but he kept all his skincare stuff in the bathroom, so you went to go get them as he set up a show to watch along with some snacks

-> you flicked on the light, going to his cabinet when something in the corner of the room caught your eye

-> there was a fairly large spider, desperately trying to crawl up the smooth tile wall

-> you decided to take pity on it and release it

-> but when you had it cupped safely in your hands, you decided to terrorise your poor boyfriend just a little

-> "hey, omi, look what i found!"

-> your boyfriend perked up at your signature nickname for him, though his eyes narrowed as he saw your clasped hands held in front of you

-> "no"

-> "but baby, you haven't even seen-"

-> "no"

-> you giggled at how defensive he had become

-> "come on, don't you want to name it? it's very cute"

-> "i want you to throw it out, y/n"

-> "alright, alright"

-> you took the spider to a window, releasing it back outside before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing a few masks for real this time

-> sakusa gave you the cold shoulder as you sat down next to him, humming as you gave him a face mask and putting it on without a word

-> "aww, baby, i'm sorry"

-> "..."

-> "i'll give you a head massage if you stop ignoring me?"

-> sakusa turned to you, his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared you down

-> the act soon broke, though, and he smiled against the sheet mask that was on his face

-> "it better be a good one," he huffed as he tugged the duck headband off, already sighing at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp

-> "omi, come on, what do you take me for?"

❍ HAIBA LEV

-> ngl lev gives off equal amounts of being terrified of like the tiniest spider or just finding bugs insanely cool vibes

-> it's funnier to imagine this 6-foot-something guy scramble away from a fucking crane fly in terror though so this is how it's going to play out

-> when you invited your giant of a boyfriend to your flat, you didn't anticipate just how small he made everything appear

-> he even towered in your doorway, having to stoop to step through into your hall

-> "woahh, i love your place!"

-> it was his first time staying over for the night, and lev was making sure to drink in every aspect of your interior design

-> you found it sweet of him, and watched as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the little trinkets you had collected over the years to make your small apartment seem more like a home

-> you didn't expect him to scream at the top of his lungs and practically run back to you, though

-> you jumped at the sound, watching as he scrambled away from your lamp and pointed back at it with a shaking finger

-> you squinted at it, making out the very menacing form of a crane fly as it bumped into the lampshade and continued on its path

-> "lev, you big baby," you giggled, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap it

-> "y/n, don't leave me alone with it!" he yelped, and you rolled your eyes at his antics

-> you came back, smoothly capturing the insect and throwing it out of a nearby window

-> lev was sat on your couch the whole time, hands covering his eyes as he curled in a ball

-> "is it gone?" he asked, and you you giggled at how childlike he was acting at the moment

-> "it's all good, baby" you smoothed his hair and lev gratefully leaned into your touch, a sigh of relief leaving him

-> "thank you, y/n"

-> "i'll get rid of all the bugs in the world for you, lev"

❍ MIYA ATSUMU

-> gives off the vibes that he used to eat bugs as a child i'm sorry but

-> have mercy on his soul lmao

-> so twins are supposed to be identical right?

-> anyone who spends more than a few minutes around the miya twins know that that's a complete fucking lie

-> and you've had the misfortune of being friends with them for a very long time

-> like your mums were friends and you were all born around the same time

-> you've been pulled into their shit before you could walk or talk

-> so you're well aware of just how different these mfs are

-> even though they were both absolute bastards, osamu always had a slightly more mellowed out approach which would always end up with atsumu getting the blame for what they got up to

-> especially as a child, osamu loved to terrorise his twin with the unwilling help of you

-> one of the ways was through osamu exploiting one of his twins' fears

-> that being bugs and spiders

-> he always cackled at the sight of atsumu screaming and trying to run away from him due to the spider he was holding

-> as they both grew up, this became less of a frequent thing for osamu to do

-> you also somehow started dating atsumu, but nobody could exactly pinpoint a moment that signified a beginning to your relationship

-> but since you're dating the world's biggest manchild in disguise, and osamu gets annoyed with atsumu quite easily, you would have to swoop in to rescue him from time to time

-> recently the twins had been getting a little snappy with each other, and it had yet to sort itself out

-> from what you had heard your boyfriend was in the wrong this time, but you still listened to him whine and rant about it

-> you were going to the inarizaki school gym to say hi to your boyfriend and best friend before practice started, only to see absolute chaos unfolding

-> with kita yet to arrive, the twins were effectively unleashed and that much was clear with the way atsumu was practically screaming his head off as he ran around the gym

-> your eyes took in the rest of the players- aran had his head in his hands, suna was snickering with his phone out to record the newest miya twin fight, and osamu's deranged laugh could be heard above everything else as he chased his brother, hand held out in front of him

-> only one thing was capable of making atsumu scream like that, so you already knew what was happening

-> atsumu quickly spotted you hovering in the doorway, and made a beeline to where you were

-> his eyes were panicked, and you were quick to wrap him in a hug as you shot osamu a nasty glare over his shoulder

-> literally this lmfao

-> "that's enough, 'samu"

-> your best friend paused, before a smile spread across his face as he dangled the centipede in front of him

-> "you know it was rubber, right?"

-> you felt your boyfriend tense in your arms and you bit your lip to stifle a small giggle

-> but at least they would be back to normal by the end of today

back to the menu - ,, 🕷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[teddyylou]

Monday: Klance Drabble - teddyylou

Keith woke to gentle kisses being pressed to the shell of his ear. Wrapped up under the warm covers of his bed, he pulled the strong arm that was hugged around his middle even tighter, pressing his boyfriend’s hand, which had crept up under his shirt as they slept, to his chest, kissing his knuckles. 

“Hmm, morning, baby,” Lance hummed, burying his nose snuggly into Keith’s mess of black hair. Keith felt him breathe out happily, the way their feet brushed together at the foot of the bed adding to the serene feeling that was swiftly taking over all of his senses. Every place on him that Lance touched tingled with a warmth that sent goosebumps all over his body, and every breath they took in unison as they snoozed well past Keith’s alarm made his heart swell and his smile grow exponentially. 

“Morning, Lance. Mmh, it’s so sunny and nice you could almost forget that it’s Monday,” he mumbled, rolling over so that he could face his boyfriend. “And your sleepy voice is just so sexy,” he giggled, pressing their foreheads together. 

Lance scrunched up his face, still yet to open his eyes, simply holding Keith closer to him to stop him from wriggling around so much. “Yeah, you can even hear the birds chirping,” he replied with a content sigh, purposefully skipping over Keith’s crass sentiment. 

“Aw, you also say really sappy, cliche things when you’re half asleep. Did you know that?” Keith’s aimed a toothy grin at Lance as he opened his eyes to lour, who merely pulled the pillow out from under Keith’s head and gently smack it back down over his face which a ‘whump’.

Keith tossed it aside, rolling over to share Lance’s pillow so that he could press a kiss to his lips. ‘The first one of the day’ he thought to himself, closed mouth to avoid Lance’s nasty morning breath.

“Hey Lance, you know you have terrible morn-”

Knock, knock.

“Keith, are you up? I heard your alarm go off. Breakfast will be on the table in five; don’t make me come and get you.” Keith and Lance froze as Keith’s mother spoke gently through the door from the hallway. Keith even heard Lance hold his breath.

“Yeah, uh, coming mum,” he called back. They waited for her footsteps to disappear down the hall before Keith could even tear his eyes away from the door, relaxing against his bed as Lance let out his breath with a disappointed sigh. He knew what was coming.

“Okay, Romeo, out you go.” Keith patted Lance’s thigh as he pulled back the covers. Lance, left only in his sweatpants, laid firmly on the mattress shaking his head.

“Nooo, I don’t want to go. Let me stay,” he whined, attempting to pull Keith back against his chest before he could reach for the hoodie he’d stolen from him about a week prior. 

“Mum would kill me if she knew you’d been sneaking in at night, you have to,” Keith pleaded, eyes wide as he tried to force Lance out of his bed. 

“Keith, I’ve been staying here about three nights a week for the last two months! You don’t think she knows?” He asked, leaning over the bed to put his socks back on, tying his converse with a huff. 

“Nope,” Keith said frankly, shaking his arms until his hands poked out of the ends of Lance’s hoodie. He climbed out of bed, catching one of Lance’s arms as he grabbed his shirt, pulling him to his feet. “And she isn’t going to find out. Now, window. Out.” Keith gave Lance a gentle push towards the second-storey window, an easily slidable roof just underneath it that would drop Lance in the front yard of Keith’s house. Lance held his hand up to his heart, scorned. 

“Nine whole months I’ve loved you and here you are, forcing your dear, sweet boyfriend out of a window to ride his bike the whole way home. How you wound me,” he feigned. Keith raised an unsympathetic brow, arms crossed over his chest.

“Forsooth,” he mused, causing Lance’s facade to crack with the upturn of the corner of his lip.

“Ah, so you finally did your English homework,” Lance said, one foot already standing on top of the garage. He straddled the window sill as he slid on his shirt.

“I may has't,” Keith smiled before dawdling over to Lance, handing him his phone. “See you at school.”

“Don’t be late,” Lance said, standing fully on the roof so that he could lean back in, hands supporting him on the sill. “I love you.”

Lance kissed Keith sweetly, clearly not caring as much about morning breath as Keith did. 

“I love you too,” Keith said before leaning in again, even if he knew that Lance did it on purpose, because Keith really just wanted to kiss his boyfriend. “Bye.”

“Bye,” they muttered to each other between short pecks before Lance pushed himself up, slid down the roof, and landed skilfully on the lawn. Keith watched him as he ran down to the street, pulling his bike out of the bush he had stowed it in, and rode off towards his own house. Keith watched until he’d disappeared over the crest of the hill that led to his street, actually enjoying the warm sun and the singing birds because Mondays were always good when he started them next to Lance. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Keith was startled back to reality by his mother’s voice. He’d not even noticed she’d come back up to find him.

“Oh just… some birds,” Keith lied. Krolia stared at her son for a second. 

“Okay,” she replied. “Come get breakfast, we have to leave soon.”

“Cool, be down in a sec.”

***

Keith woke up tangled in sheets and all of the extra blankets he and Lance had thrown over themselves as they went to sleep the night before. His entire body was engulfed in the warmth of the strong arms holding him close, heat radiating off Lance’s chest that was pressed tight to Keith’s back. 

Lance groaned as they both stirred, instantly pulling Keith even closer as the raven wiggled around to face his boyfriend. Keith felt a sleepy kiss against his forehead as he tucked his face into Lance’s neck. It was warm there. No need or desire lingered to go anywhere else. 

Lance adjusted his feet to intertwine them with Keith’s. He, however, managed to pull the blankets with him as he did and for a brief moment, a gust of piercing cold air let itself into their safe cocoon. In unison, they gasped an indigent “Ah!” and huddled in together, giggling as they found themselves safe from the dreary Monday morning weather.

They laid in silence, sharing soft, lazy kisses as the rain poured on outside. The windows were fogged and if they tried just the slightest it was as if nothing else in the world existed outside Keith’s bedroom. 

Until they heard shuffling around in the kitchen below.

Keith let out a deep sigh, placing a few more kisses to Lance’s defined collar bone before patting his side solemnly. 

“Hhh, you should probably go now,” he weighed the unfortunate words on his tongue as he spoke. Lance merely groaned in response, snuggling deeper under the mountain of soft blankets where the sting of the outside couldn’t get him. 

“Keith, baby. You can’t possibly make me go out there. You wouldn’t make me ride home in the rain,” Lance begged, holding him and rocking him, like a half-hearted shakedown. Keith huffed, considering his options for a second. 

He peeked his head out of the covers, hair still a mess over his face. It looked so cold out there that his skin prickled just at the thought of it. But then he thought of his mother downstairs, catching them. Each rattle of a closing kitchen draw made his heart pound. It was a tough choice.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna make me ride home. I can’t believe my small, loving, sweet boyfriend is going to send me out like this. I could catch a cold Keith. Do you wanna be the one looking after this snotty-nosed bastard?” Lance persisted almost too loudly and pointed to himself. 

Keith snorted and placed his hand over Lance’s mouth to hush him. He thought about it for a second longer, eyes narrowed to a squint, shifting from the bedroom door to the window. Lance’s eyes remained wide as he awaited Keith’s verdict. 

“Fine,” Keith said after a second. Lance whispered an elated cheer before pulling the both of them back under the blanket pile to cuddle.

Keith didn’t know what his next move was, but while he was laying so comfortably and soundly in Lance’s arms he was sure of one thing. That move was not going to be for many, many minutes. He opened his eyes so that he was just staring blankly at Lance’s chest as the brunet carded a hand through Keith’s knotty hair​​—the pair simply pretending that it wasn’t as such due to Keith sleeping like the dead, and Lance’s fingers totally weren’t getting stuck and tugging on a knot every few strokes. 

Keith was almost completely lulled back to sleep when he heard a knock. 

“Keith, I called you already what are you up to?” His mother’s voice became increasingly clearer as the door opened ajar and without a second to lose he threw the blankets over Lance’s head, holding them tightly up to his chin. He hoped it looked like he was just really cold, and that their entangled bodies just looked like Keith under a mass of about four quilts. 

If Krolia knew anything, she wasn’t letting on; Keith thought he was safe.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Bit hard to get out of bed today. I have to plan my course wisely to get from here to the warm shower with as little time in the antarctic hallway as possible,” Keith explained, trying to appear nonchalant as Lance feathered kisses to anywhere he could reach on Keith’s chest without moving. Krolia nodded inconspicuously. 

“Okay, well, breakfast is on the table, get it while it’s hot,” she told him taking a step back out of the room. She stopped, however, just as she was about to close the door. “Oh, and there is a place set for Lance too,” she eyed Keith smugly, a faint smirk on her lips as she closed the door. 

Keith heard a quiet ‘oh fuck’ from under the covers and, well, yeah. That. 

[novelconcepts]

The night Dani sees Peter Quint, a blackout happens during the storm. The officers say that it's not safe to stay there in the middle of a storm and without a way to talk to the police if necessary. Hannah and the kids go to Owen's house. Jamie offers a ride, her little flat, clothes and a bath (since crazy Dani decided to run after Peter during the storm).

There's just one bed prompt. Maybe a small couch or chair.

They listen, which is frankly more than Dani expected when Hannah insisted on calling the police. She suspects it has less to do with the Peter Quint of it all, and more to do with the lightning strike, the cataclysm of rain, an old house plunged into deep black. No phone lines, the officers point out with weary expressions that say they are not certain Peter Quint is truly a danger--but Lord Wingrave is not without a certain amount of authority around these parts, and if any further tragedy should befall his niece and nephew, these men would find themselves overloaded on unpleasant paperwork and worse press. 

Bad reasons, Dani thinks with a scowl. They ought to have gone into this field to help people, not scoff at Hannah’s fear and Dani’s unease. They ought to be doing something, not simply waving them off the property for the night. It’s listening, sort of, but it isn’t hearing. 

She glances at Jamie as the officers speak--directly, she notes, to Owen, as though as the only man among them, he has defaulted to de facto lord of the manor. He looks uncomfortable, rubbing a hand through wet hair; Dani remembers him saying, I was born in Bly, wonders if he went to school with either of the men in slick uniform. 

Jamie doesn’t look uncomfortable. Jamie looks angry. There’s a fire burning in her Dani suspects never entirely went out after this afternoon’s rose debacle, one that might have been tempered if they’d been able to track Quint down outside. But he’s in the wind, the product of long legs and a better awareness of the terrain. Dani, giving chase into a fresh downpour before she could think better of her choices, is still itching at the memory of his long coat vanishing into the dark. 

She’d run into Jamie, instead--full-force, a bone-rattling collision that had sent them both tumbling into the sopping grass. It might have been funny, if not for the echo of Quint’s footfalls dying away.

“If he’s here?” Jamie asks now. “Quint. If he’s still here? What then?”

The officer in charge gives her a brief look, barely long enough to register detail. “If he’s here,” he says boredly, “all the better that you aren’t.”

Jamie grinds her jaw. She seems barely to be containing herself, resisting the impulse to explain in no uncertain terms that this is their home, this place Quint is intruding upon. Their home--Hannah and the kids and Dani, at least--where Quint would be trailing slimy fingers. The idea of that smirking face going through the bedrooms makes Dani shudder. It seems to press Jamie toward an unwise argument. 

Without thinking, Dani reaches out, lays a hand on her shoulder. Jamie’s hair is still dripping, her jacket sodden. Her eyes, catching on Dani’s face, widen a little, her teeth unclenching. 

“You have somewhere to go?” the head officer reiterates, glancing back toward the door as though dreaming of a warm car, a comfortable house far from the manor. Owen nods in Hannah’s direction. 

“Mum won’t mind. Can have a little sleepover.”

“Yes!” Flora perks up. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against Miles’ side, but her whole face switches on like a lantern now. “A sleepover!”

“How’s about it, Miles?” Hannah taps him lightly on the head. “A little evening adventure.”

He looks uncertain, but when she ruffles his hair, a slow smile creeps across his face. Dani’s relieved to see it--she’s started to believe Miles is thirty-five in a ten-year-old frame, the weight of so much loss bearing him down like an anchor. He deserves a little fun. 

“And you,” Hannah adds, looking to Dani as if reading her mind. “What do you say to a night off?”

Dani blinks. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necess--”

“Chased a man into the storm,” Hannah interrupts. “Not a decision I’d approve of twice, but it was quite brave. And, forgive me dear, but you look like you could use a proper rest in the aftermath.”

That might be, Dani thinks absently, the nicest way of saying you look like shit I’ve ever heard. 

“I’ll just get cleaned up real quick,” she says, “and then I’ll be perfectly fine to--”

Hannah raises a hand. “I insist. Let Owen and I handle them for the evening.”

Dani opens and closes her mouth several times. What’s the alternative? Is Hannah expecting her to stay here? Here, in a house they’re all carefully not admitting feels much bigger in the dark, huddled around the glow of policeman flashlights? 

“Can crash at my place,” Jamie says, almost gruffly. “If you don't mind the company.”

Hannah looks unsurprised by this offer. Dani feels a little light-headed at the idea. 

“I--I’m all muddy.”

Jamie makes a show of looking down at her own clothes, caked in wet clods of grass, soaked nearly to the skin. She raises her eyebrows in Dani’s direction as if to say, Any more sterling arguments?

Dani has none.

Jamie doesn’t say a word as they load into her truck, Dani trying her best to shrink down to inhabit as limited a space as possible. Her legs ache with the effort of holding her feet aloft, her thighs pressed together to prevent staining the whole seat with grime. Jamie glances in her direction, pulling carefully out onto the road, and Dani could swear she’s trying not to smile.

“Know what I do for a living, don’t you?”

Dani nods. Jamie clears her throat.

“Then should go without saying you’re not the first to track mud into the truck. Relax.”

Embarrassed, Dani does as she’s bid. From the corner of her eye, she sees Jamie’s mouth twitch again--sees Jamie’s hands resting comfortably at ten and two, Jamie’s shoulders slightly rounded as though by holding her posture firm, she can punch a hole through the sheeting rain. She doesn’t seem nervous in the least to be driving through this mess with Dani huddled beside her. 

Jamie, Dani is starting to think, doesn’t get nervous.

Well, that makes one of us. 

She has nothing to be nervous about, is the thing. Chasing a strange man into a storm, racing after him with nothing but a fire poker and a hot protective impulse--that should have made her nervous. Should have scared the shit out of her. And it hadn’t. She’d felt bizarrely well-equipped for the decisions she was making, at the time. Peter Quint, she’d been certain, should have been the nervous one.

But now, sitting with wet hair and mussed clothes beside a woman she’s held barely three conversations with, Dani feels distinctly out of her element. No kids. No easy warmth of a carefully-sewn-together family opening its arms to let her in. Just a truck, rattling along a slick road on its way to a tiny town she’s never set foot in before.

And a woman with wet curls plastered to her forehead, stealing tiny glances at Dani like she’s not quite sure what to do with her.

“Flat’s small,” Jamie says, as if apologizing, as she parks outside a pub that looks older than any establishment in Dani’s hometown. “Don’t need much. But there are no screamin’ kids.”

Flora and Miles aren’t much for screaming without reason, but Dani thinks she takes Jamie’s point all the same. Quiet, Jamie is trying to say. Dani can properly rest here, Jamie is trying to say. Jamie doesn’t mind offering up her space.

“Ready?” The rain is still coming down in a torrent. Jamie’s hand is positioned at the doorhandle, Jamie’s posture strung tight. “Make a break for it on three. One--two--”

They run, damp clothes made soggy all over again, and Dani is surprised to hear herself make a whooping sound of joy as she splashes through puddles. Jamie, she thinks, could move faster--Jamie’s got a runner’s stamina when she puts her mind to it--but she’s jogging along at an easy pace, refusing to leave Dani behind. Her hand catches once on Dani’s sleeve, pulling her to the stairs behind the pub, guiding her up to a door at the top.

“Storms like these,” Jamie says when they’ve tumbled breathlessly into her home, “remind me of bein’ a kid. Sitting in school, hoping the power’d go so they’d send us home early.”

“Did it ever happen?” Dani wraps her arms around herself, trying not to shiver, trying not to drip too expansively across the scored floorboards. Jamie grins.

“Once. I was seven. Spent the whole day out in it anyway, caught the worst cold of my life. Best goddamn day a kid could want.” 

She looks so at home here, as Dani watches her pull off her boots, drape her jacket lazily over a chair, stride around turning on lights. At the manor, Jamie is casual enough, rarely inclined to rush or worry, but here, it’s instantly clear she knows every creak in the floor, every stubborn lightswitch, every inch of a domain that is entirely Jamie. 

A domain she has, for no reason at all, opened up to Dani tonight. The reality of it crashes home all at once, landing hard. Jamie barely knows her, and still is willing to give Dani a place to stay. Jamie barely knows her, and still is holding out a gray towel and a bundle of clothes, her smile crooked.

“Thought you might like to get out of those.”

A spike of warmth makes its way up Dani’s spine, settling somewhere around her ears. She crushes it down, forcing herself to accept the sweats and t-shirt with a grateful smile of her own.

“Thank you. Honestly, you didn’t have to do any of this--”

“The rain,” Jamie says easily, “is the fun part. The cold, not so much. Bath’s this way.”

Bathroom, Dani assumes she means--until Jamie gestures at the little tub, barely big enough for a woman her size. She looks marginally embarrassed for the first time, but it’s a resolute sort of embarrassment, as though Jamie has little patience for it. 

“Not much,” she says. “But still better than catching ill. Take however long you like.”

Dani watches her back out of the room, a tumble of unfamiliar emotions in her chest. Someone offering up everything--home, clothes, bathtub--without asking for something in return is strange. Someone doing that much and then leaving, peaceable as the turn of a new day, is unheard of. She hesitates, waiting at the closed door for signs that Jamie will change her mind--or knock, having thought of something else Dani might need--and nothing comes. This room has become, so long as Dani wants it, her space. Jamie will take it back only when Dani’s finished. 

Unwelcomely, she tries to imagine Eddie doing this very thing. Eddie, who only refrains from haunting her European adventures with postcard and phone call because he has no idea how to find her. Eddie, who would think the offer of clothes and a hot bath automatically come with other perks, and who would smile as he stepped in to collect like he couldn’t imagine her wanting to be left alone. 

She shakes her head. Eddie is gone, and she is here, and Jamie isn’t him. Is so unlike him, in fact, it’s hard to imagine them standing in the same room.

And why, some little part of her pipes slyly up, are you comparing them in the first place? 

She shivers, turning on the water, letting it run as hot as possible before sinking in. She leans her head back against a wadded-up washcloth, surveying the simplicity of the bathroom--single toothbrush, single cup for water, a minute assortment of hairbrush, hair ties, sunscreen. There is a dried rose framed beside the door, a small bunch of purple-and-white flowers she can’t name in a tiny windowsill vase. 

It’s all very discreet, all very Jamie. To look at it with this much freedom, to be trusted alone in a space that has belonged to no one else, makes her heart pound.

She’s only being nice. And so what? What does it matter? 

It matters. Even if she never says so, even if she never lets it out of her heart, Dani can’t deny that it matters. Like it mattered watching Jamie walk into the kitchen earlier this week, glancing at her with an easy raise of brows like she was thinking, Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us. 

Jamie, calling her Poppins, telling her she’s doing great, offering her flat without a second’s pause. None of it warranted. None of it asked for. All of it so incredibly welcome.

She stays in the bath until the shivers ease out, carefully soaping her hair with the little bottle of shampoo on the windowsill. A different scent and brand than her own, and as she’s rinsing clean, she realizes she will smell like Jamie now. If for only a night, her hair--and the clothes Jamie gently pressed into her hands--will hold just a little bit of the gardener’s influence. 

The warmth she’s beginning to attribute to Jamie sweeps through her again at the idea. That, and the awareness that these are Jamie’s things hugging her body. Jamie’s belongings, offered up like she feels not the least bit possessive about her living space. Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us. 

“Warm?” Jamie asks when she finally steps back out of the bathroom. Her hair is still wet, though she’s changed into a clean white shirt and sweatpants of her own. Dani nods, confused when Jamie grins. 

“What?”

“I think,” Jamie says placidly, “this is the first time I’ve seen you out of pastels. Suits you.”

Dani glances down. The threadbare black t-shirt bears a jagged white London Calling in peeling letters. She can’t help smiling.

“Maybe I’m a secret punk fan.”

“Are you?” Jamie sounds interested. Dani shakes her head.

“Sorry, no. Always open to learning, though.”

Here it is again: that funny, twisting feeling in her stomach that says she is at home with Jamie. That Jamie is easy and warm, despite the anger simmering somewhere deep down and a tendency toward cropping her sentences with swear words. That Jamie has opened her home to Dani only because Jamie has opened to her, on some level neither of them is entirely sure how to approach. 

“Thank you,” she says, because it’s easier than putting this feeling into words. “For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Jamie shrugs. “Wanted to. You haven’t had an easy couple of days. Sometimes, a little quiet goes a long way.”

She’s seated on the arm of the couch, bare feet dangling an inch off the floor. Looking at her, Dani can’t entirely wrap her mind around the idea that she’s only known this woman for a couple of days. That she doesn’t, in fact, know much of anything about her at all. 

And still, when Jamie rises and begins arranging pillow and blanket on the couch, Dani’s stomach performs a backflip she’d never come close to feeling with Eddie.

“That’s really kind of you,” she says, the words a blind effort to distract from her trembling hands. “I really don’t need much, you don’t have to go to any trouble--”

Jamie glances over her shoulder. “No trouble. Bed’s just that way.”

Dani turns to look. Sure enough, behind a pulled-back curtain, she can just make out Jamie’s mattress and frame. “I--I mean, I won’t be bothering you, if that’s what you--”

“What?” Straightening, Jamie frowns. “No, I mean, it’s yours. Take it. I sleep on the couch half the goddamn time anyway, it’s no--”

“I am not,” Dani interrupts, “taking your bed, Jamie.”

Not since her last argument with Miles has she been engaged in such a standoff. Jamie, still holding a pillow, looks ready to chain herself to the couch. Dani, heady with the inescapable awareness of Jamie’s shampoo rinsed out of her own hair, can’t have that. It’s too much. Clothes and space and ride--all of that, she can accept. But foisting Jamie from her own bed?

“I’m not doing it,” she says. Her arms are folded, her mouth pulling into a smile she can’t for her life shake. “I’m told I'm very stubborn, so you might as well just let me have that couch now.”

“I--” For the first time all night, Jamie seems to be at a loss. “I’m--aiming for chivalry, here, Poppins.”

“You’ve been nothing less,” Dani assures her. “A white knight, really. But I’m afraid this is where I have to draw the line.”

“I sleep on it all the time.”

“So, it’s my turn.”

Jamie’s whole face seems on edge of some kind of collapse--though into laughter or upset, Dani can’t begin to guess. She has a brief flash of possibility, the two of them standing on either side of the couch all night, arguing well into daylight over who ought to take the proper night’s sleep.

“You’ve got kids to handle in the morning,” Jamie says reasonably, proving her point.

“You spent all day working in the sun,” Dani volleys in return. She thinks for a moment, then adds, “Also, I knocked you into a puddle earlier, and you didn’t get a nice warm bath.”

“Didn’t need one.” Jamie looks exasperated. “Poppins, come on. This doesn’t have to be a big bloody deal.”

It doesn’t, Dani agrees. It really doesn’t. All Jamie has to do is step out of the way, step behind that curtain, put herself to bed where she belongs.

Or, alternatively--

It’s coming out of her mouth before she can stop it. Before she can run through all the reasons not to suggest this very thing. Before she can pin down the butterflies having a dogfight in her stomach and make a decision based in good judgment. 

“Look, if you’re that committed to making me sleep in the bed, come join me.”

Jamie nearly drops the pillow. Her calm has utterly vacated the flat, leaving behind a woman who looks--if Dani isn’t much mistaken--much nearer to frantic than she’s ever seen Jamie before. Much nearer to the kind of nervous Dani had been on the ride over. 

“I,” she says. “That--I shouldn’t--”

“It’s the best compromise,” Dani says, trying to sound reasonable. Trying to sound as though the invitation to share Jamie’s bed isn’t making her entire body run with sudden electricity. “Neither of us is very big, I’m sure we can fit.”

“I’m--sure we can.” Jamie is grimacing. Jamie looks pained. If she had an elegant way out, Dani would take it back simply to erase that look from Jamie’s face, a look that says Jamie would rather sleep in her tiny bathtub than wherever Dani is. 

Elegant way out, she can’t find, and she’s tired. Tired, and buzzing with nerves, and somehow, the au pair wins out over all possible variants of Dani Clayton. “It isn’t that bad an idea,” she says, her voice steady. “I don’t even snore.”

This breaks something open between them. She can’t put her finger on just what it is, or why, but suddenly Jamie is laughing, and Dani is grinning, and she knows the stalemate is at its end. It’s been too long a night. There’s just no point.

“Here,” she adds, settling at the edge of the bed, watching Jamie switch off the lights and creep closer as though trying not to startle a skittish animal. “I’ll lay right on the edge, you won’t even have to know I’m here--”

“Don’t be silly,” Jamie says. She hesitates; Dani wonders if she’s giving a final chance for Dani to shoo her away, to choose a night spent alone after all. She thumps the bedspread with a flat palm, staring meaningfully at Jamie until the mattress sinks beneath the weight of au pair and gardener alike. 

“See?” she can’t stop herself saying. “We fit.”

Jamie stares at her, a lingering gaze Dani couldn’t decipher on her best day. She opts to ignore it, stretching out under the rumpled covers. Beside her, Jamie slides a hand beneath her head, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Not so bad,” Dani says, wishing she could shut up, wishing she could stop thinking--about Jamie’s head on the pillow beside her, about Jamie’s scent sunk into this pillow, about the indent of Jamie’s body in this old mattress where maybe no one else has ever lain. Jamie makes a low sound in her chest. 

“Long day.”

“So long.” Was it only this morning Dani was having a small panic attack, the strain of a new job on top of familiar guilt too heavy to bear? Was it only this afternoon she’d grabbed Jamie’s shoulder, pulled her back from storming off to skin Miles alive?

Was it really only this evening she’d stalked out after Peter Quint, crashed headlong into Jamie, listened to police officers warn them all away from the manor in a blackout?

Jamie clears her throat. Dani’s starting to think it’s a nervous habit--Jamie seems to do it only around her. Why on earth would I make her nervous? “Comfortable?” she asks the ceiling. Dani nods. 

In the dark, the bed seems smaller. The pillows are touching, the blankets bridging the brief gap between Jamie’s right leg and Dani’s left. In the dark, Jamie’s breath is audible, the smell of rain and shampoo and clean clothes twisting together into a single knot. 

In the dark, Dani thinks, they could be anyone. Not gardener and au pair, but anyone, bound by a single unpredictable night. 

She wonders if they should talk--about Peter Quint, about the tension of the evening, about the kids, or the roses, or any number of little odd moments around the manor. She wonders if Jamie expects her to ask questions--who Quint is, what he was to Rebecca Jessel, what he might be doing skulking around the house. 

She can’t quite find it in her. It’s too warm, too soft, the silence as inviting as the rustle of Jamie’s borrowed clothes against her skin. Laying in the dark, Jamie’s foot nearly touching her own, listening to the storm pound the windowpanes, Dani is breathing easier than she has in months. 

“I’m glad,” she says quietly, “you’re here.”

Jamie’s head rustles the pillowcase, turning to look at her. “Yeah?”

Dani smiles. “Yeah. I can’t explain it, but I feel...safer.” Something sharpens behind her ribcage, something that begs her to add, With Hannah, with Owen, with the kids, too. She doesn’t. It’s true, but it’s also not really what she means. 

“He doesn’t know where to find you,” Jamie says, and for a moment, Dani wonders how she could possibly be talking about Eddie. Then Jamie adds, “I hate that fucker. So does Owen. Everyone is safe tonight.”

Right. Peter Quint. Of course. “I’m glad,” Dani repeats. She feels the mattress shift as Jamie carefully settles in. “Jamie?”

“Mm?”

Too many things to say. Too many questions to ask. Too many of those butterflies winging around as Jamie’s elbow bumps her, as Jamie’s breath brushes her cheek. She shuts her eyes, the simple image of Jamie’s gaze inches away too much to handle. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie murmurs. And though Dani’s heart is racing, though her skin is hot, though the storm outside is brutal and Jamie’s bed is much smaller than she’d thought--she finds herself relaxing. Finds herself thoughtlessly shifting to a more comfortable position on her side. Finds herself, even, leaning in toward Jamie’s warmth as the sound of her breathing shallows. 

For the first time in what feels like years, Dani Clayton sleeps.

[missymurphy1985]

School Days (part 5)

Warning - smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone

Cillian's 18th birthday was days away. You and Liane were shopping in Cork city, trying to find the perfect gift for him.

"You know, Ann Summers is here somewhere y/n..." She smirked, you responded with a slap on her shoulder.

"We've only had sex a few times Liane, I don't think we're quite there yet!"

"I'm not talking about bondage stuff! They do some really nice lingerie sets! I was thinking maybe when mom and dad take the kids on holiday you and Cillian could have the house to yourself for a night?" Your parents were due to go to their holiday apartment in Sligo the same weekend of Cillian's birthday. You and Liane were staying behind as you both had work that weekend and couldn't get the time off.

"Where will you be?"

"I'll be at Liam's - his mum ADORES me!" She laughed, linking her arm with yours and dragging a reluctant you over to the Ann Summers shop.

*************************************************************

"So where does your ma think you are tonight?" You asked that Saturday evening, letting Cillian in.

"Yours. My parents are a lot more liberal than yours y/n!" He laughed, kissing you and heading into the lounge.

"Will they tell my parents??"

"God no, they're not crazy! Don't worry - we're fine." He sat himself on the sofa and held his arm out for you to join him. You sank into his embrace.

"Happy birthday baby."

"Not til tomorrow, but thank you. Dad's taking me for my first legal pint before dinner."

"Can I give you your present early?" You smiled up at him.

"Well I'm not going to say no, am I?" You took his hand and led him through to your bedroom - a room he'd never been allowed in before. He smiled looking around at the room - the photo collage of you and him on the wall, the necklace he'd bought you for Christmas hanging off your mirror on the dressing table. The Christmas card he'd bought you, framed on the window sill with a pressed flower from the bouquet he'd given you. Even a seashell from his family holiday in Kerry, pride of place on your bedside table.

"You kept all this?"

"Of course I did, you gave them to me." He pulled you close and kissed you, the kiss quickly becoming more intense. You pushed him backwards to sit on the chair by your dressing table, and stood up in front of him.

Slowly peeling down the straps of your floor length summer dress, you allowed it to fall to the floor, revealing the blue lace bra and panties set, stockings and suspenders Liane had convinced you to buy. You couldn't help but giggle at his eyes, wide and hungry, before they locked with yours.

"Holy fuck... You look amazing... Is this all for me?"

"All for you. Wanna unwrap your present Mr Murphy?"

"Do I... Come here..." You stood in front of him and lifted one foot onto his knee. His fingers took the stocking, unclipping it before sliding it down your leg slowly. You shuddered slightly at the feel of his fingers brushing over your thighs.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" He smirked, before repeating the action with your other leg. Once they were both removed, his hands roamed along the inside of your thighs, parting your legs slightly and brushing over your clothed mound softly. You bit your lip to control yourself - you wanted this to last as long as possible. You stopped his hands, and lifted his t-shirt over his head. Straddling his thighs, you placed kisses over his neck and jawline, tracing the tip of your tongue up from his jaw to just below his ear, sending very visible shivers down his spine, a low moan emitting from his lips. You hips rocked back and forth over him, his hands firmly on your backside edging you closer so your clit pressed against the straining bulge in his jeans.

"I want to try something..." You whispered in his ear.

"Yeah? What you got in mind?" You stood up and pulled a bag from under your bed. His eyes widened more at the Ann Summers logo emblazoned across it. You pulled out the handcuffs, dangling them in front of him.

"I don't trust you not to touch me when I do this..." You smiled, moving behind him and locking his hands behind his back on the chair.

"What exactly is it you're planning on doing?" He asked, as you fiddled with the buttons on his jeans.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now, would it?" He lifted his hips for you to pull his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked them away eagerly. Kneeling on front of his, you took his hard cock in your hand, stroking it up and down like he'd shown you, squeezing the tip and base, just how he liked it. You also took his balls in your left hand, rolling them around your fingers, squeezing occasionally drawing a deep groan from him. Your right hand focused on the base of his cock, you took the tip into your mouth, a long, drawn out suck making him shake underneath you.

"Not gonna last if you keep doing that..." You smirked at his comment, and resumed your ministrations on him, taking absolutely no mercy at his begging for you to slow down.

Your mouth moved on him faster, his hips were bucking wildly, you could hear the chains on the handcuffs rattling as he pulled against them.

"Baby... I'm gonna come... Y/n don't stop..." A deep groan, almost primal, as he released into your mouth. You took every drop he had, swallowing it down.

"Birthday present number one done..." You smiled, watching him catch his breath.

"There's more?"

"I certainly hope so. Just need to get you going again," you smiled, your hand brushing over his still semi-hard cock making him gasp. You sat on the edge of your bed with your legs open, moving the lace panties to one side. The hunger in his eyes driving your confidence higher. Sliding one finger through your folds, your eyes never left his as you drew the wetness up and circled your clit slowly. His eyes moved from yours to your fingers, back up again. He barely breathed, watching you pleasure yourself in front of him.

"You gonna make yourself come for me?" You nodded in response, and his cock twitched, coming back to life quickly.

Your fingers worked their magic on your clit, rubbing it slowly at first then getting quicker, pushing against it a little harder.

"You like watching me Cillian? My fingers rubbing myself?" He nodded, words barely possible now for him. He pulled against his restraints, making you chuckle. Watching his now fully erect cock twitch was turning you on further, your orgasm getting close.

"You look beautiful doing that... Moan for me, let me hear you..." You happily complied, low moans coming from your lips as you felt that familiar knot down below start to unravel. Your hips rocked involuntarily against your fingers.

"I'm coming baby... I'm coming..." Your orgasm hit you like a steam train, panting his name as you came. Throwing your head back, pausing your fingers and holding your legs open, letting him see how your pussy twitched as your orgasm passed through you.

"Jesus... Let me touch you now, please... I need to fuck you..." He panted, barely able to hold himself together. You calmed, your waves subsiding slightly before walking over to him and straddling his legs again. Hovering over his hard cock.

"That was present number two... Are you ready for number three?" He nodded, and you leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I'm on the pill now..." He nearly came there and then at the thought of fucking you raw, biting his lip hard as you sank onto him. You hadn't been on top before, but remembered Liane's advice. Just like dancing...

Your hips ground against him, his breathing hitching in his throat as you moved. It took a few minutes to find a rhythm that was comfortable, but once you found it there was no stopping you. Your hips bounced and rocked against him, every thrust hitting parts of you not reached before, the pleasure was so intense you felt like you had no control over your own body anymore.

"Ride me... Fuck yes... You feel so fucking good..." His words edged you closer, you could feel another orgasm building, taking you by surprise. Your hands on his shoulders, both of you moaning and gasping, foreheads pressed together and eyes locked.

"Fuck... Cillian... You feel so good buried inside me... Filling me up... Fucking me raw..." Your breath caught in your throat as that coil in your stomach built up again, a release coming so quickly it took your breath away. Your walls contracting hard around him as you came again, your second orgasm flooding you, and him, as your juices flowed onto his groin and thighs. His release came moments after yours, the feel of your walls clenching him was too much.

Coming down from your highs, foreheads still pressed together, breathing deep. You reached round, grabbing the key from the dresser and unlocked his handcuffs, making a mental note to thank Liane profusely for persuading you to do this. His hands now free, he couldn't get them on you fast enough, wrapping them under your arms and lifting you, careful not to pull out, carrying you over to the bed. Pressing his body against yours on top of you, his nose brushing against yours.

"That was the best birthday present I think I've ever had..." He grinned, slowly moving his hips, his cock definitely softening inside you now and slipping out. Another mental note made to wash the sheets before your family came home tomorrow night.

"There are actual gifts downstairs babe, I didn't just do this," you laughed.

"I wouldn't have minded either way - you will always be enough for me. Always. Love you.."

"I love you. Chinese for dinner?"

"When have I ever turned that down?" Pulling your clothes back on, you both headed back downstairs.

You were making out on the sofa after you'd eaten, the TV on behind you but neither of you paying attention to it. You were on your back, Cillian on top of you, a hand on your breast and his hips rocking into yours.

A man's voice from the doorway broke the two of you apart suddenly.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

[lick-me-lennon22]

George caring for a sick Dhani 💜

(thank you to @pmak2002 for this request!! it was supposed to be just a blurb but I did a little research beforehand and it ended up pretty much becoming a whole fic 😅 oops... either way, I hope you enjoy this one! 💕)

When Dhani wakes up for school on Monday morning, he immediately knows something his wrong. His throat is sore, his nose is runny, and his muscles ache like nothing he's felt before. He painstakingly drags himself out of bed, clutching the sheet around him, and heads straight to his parents' bedroom where he finds his mum Olivia still in bed. Dhani notices that the bathroom door is cracked open and cautiously steps inside to find his father, George, brushing his teeth. "Dad..?" he says quietly, voice hoarse. George startles, turning around to see Dhani in his unfortunate state and spits his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, letting the water wash it down the drain before turning the tap off. "What is it, my boy? You sound bloody awful..," he gently presses the back of his hand to Dhani's forehead to assess his temperature. "You seem to be running quite the fever, son- let's get you to the doctor, all right? Just let me finish up in here and I'll be right out to take ye" George says. Dhani nods weakly, coughing into his elbow, and shuffles out of the room. George jumps into action- he swishes and spits some mouthwash, changes out of his sleepwear into a button-up and jeans, and sprints to the car, his son following close behind him and hopping into the passenger's seat.

 

"This is ridiculous.." George mutters under his breath as he walks his son out of the clinic and gets into the driver's seat of his car. They had been able to see the doctor almost instantly upon arriving; he had taken some swabs, run a few tests, and determined that Dhani had contracted the flu: "He probably picked it up from school," the doc had said. When George had requested a prescription of some kind to alleviate his son's symptoms, the doctor simply shook his head: "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do for him. The flu's been going around at many schools, I've seen a lot of children this past week with the same complaints. As it stands, all I can tell you is to give him some over-the-counter medicine, bring him some saltwater to gargle for that sore throat, and be sure he gets plenty of fluids and bedrest." George tried to argue, stating that there must be something he can do to cure Dhani of his illness sooner- but as the doc's hands were tied and George didn't want to subject his son to more stress, he took Dhani by the hand and led him out of the office, through the lobby, and back to the car. "Alright, my boy," George sighs- "seeing that the doctor was no help whatsoever, we're headed straight to the drugstore for anything that'll help you feel better. Sound good?"

"Yeah Dad, sounds good" Dhani croaks out and smiles weakly, glad just to spend some time with his father. Being a famous musician and all, George isnt able to spend as much time with his son as he'd like to, a lot of it consumed by work and media-related endeavors. Dhani admired his Dad more than anyone else in his life and though they rarely got the chance to hang out nowadays, they were practically best friends and had formed a close bond throughout his childhood. George was always a fun parent, bringing his son along to festivals and such ("Don't tell yer mum," he'd say with a grin), and sticking up for Dhani to authority figures and even other kids at his school- he was fiercely protective of his boy. However, he was also a gentle parent who allowed Dhani the chance to explore and express himself, and had fostered a mutual respect between the two of them since his son was but a toddler.

"I'm pulling you from school for the whole week" "But what if I'm- *cough*- all better before then?" "Just in case, Dhani- it's not like you really need them and their indoctrination, anyway.." George grumbles, never having been a fan of traditional schools or their teachings. Dhani however has always cared about his grades and paid close attention to the lessons he's been taught, in spite of what his father thinks. "...Okay, Dad" he says meekly, wanting to protest but unwilling to sacrifice more quality time with his famous father. George pulls into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore and marches in, intent on gathering all the supplies his sick boy could need: tissues, lozenges, cough syrup, pain medication, ice packs, and even more tissues- 'just in case.' He makes his way to the checkout, queuing up, paying for the items and hauling his bags back to the car. He drives Dhani home as quickly as possible, carrying him to bed and tucking him in before calling and cancelling any studio time, interviews, or collaborations he'd previously planned. There's only one committment he can't cancel- dinner with Paul tonight for the first time in ages. George sets his son up with all of the remedies he'd bought and tells his wife Olivia everything about the situation, including the "unhelpful and useless" doctor they had gone to see. She of course agrees to care for Dhani, sending her husband on his way to dinner with one of his long-time best friends.

 

The following day George rises just before noon, having stayed up late to pal around with Macca. He runs the few errands on his agenda, including grabbing his family some lunch, and pulls into his driveway back home where he spots the vehicle of none other than Richard Starkey parked outside. He makes his way to his son's room to discover that Uncle Ringo had come to visit the sick young lad (having found out from Paul that Dhani had come down with a bad case of the flu), joking and cheering him up to distract him from his poor state. The two close friends chat for some time in the living room before Ritchie departs, Olivia checking up on Dhani in the meantime. George thanks his wife and dismisses her from her nurse duties, taking on the responsibility himself. He tiptoes to his son's bedroom cautiously and enterd to see that he's been tucked in, the ice pack George had picked up from the store the previous day resting on his forehead, half-lidded eyes trained onto the telly. "Dhani..?" "Oh- *cough*- hey, Dad"

George approaches the bed and sits down carefully, holding a paper bag out to Dhani. "I brought you a burrito- your favorite," he grins down at his son, who takes the bag: "Really? *cough*- Thanks Dad, you're the best!" he says, hands emerging from the blankets to tear into the treat. George stays sat on the bed, determined to spend time with his sick boy and make sure he knows how loved he is. Glancing around the room at the piano and guitars he's bought and played with Dhani, then back to the young man, Ringo's words from earlier echo in his mind: "He's growing up into such a wonderful lad. He's just like you, ye know- good looks and all."

Olivia had always said they were very alike, but he'd usually dismissed the observation... until now. George couldn't help but realize that they were right- though he was but eleven years old Dhani was already becoming a very talented and creative musician, having learned much about music from his dad. He'd certainly taken after his Beatle father in that regard, and they were in fact very similar- not to mention their near identical looks. Sharing his Dad with the world had been difficult and a bit isolating for Dhani despite his many school mates. He admired and looked up to George from a very young age, always striving to be just like him. As Dhani grew up before George's eyes, he became more and more like his father by the day and George was immensely proud.

His train of thought was broken suddenly when Dhani finished the burrito, crumpling the paper bag and tossing it into the bin. He landed the throw, earning a hearty laugh and a high five from his father. He closed his eyes and laid back, George stroking his hair gently, the two of them cherishing this moment of father-son love. "Are you gettin' sleepy, Dhani?" he asked tenderly- his son nodded in response, already drowsy despite the brightness of the late afternoon sun. "Tell you what- I'll play you a lullaby, that way you can rest easier and know that I'm here beside you." "Dad," Dhani chuckled, "aren't I a little too old for that?" he lied, secretly longing for the affectionate gesture. George grabbed his son's acoustic guitar from its stand and begin to tune it: "You're never too old for yer old man's love and attention, eh? Now you just relax, close your eyes, and rest." Dhani didn't protest any further, heeding his father's instructions with a soft smile on his face. With that, George began to play- he chose "Here Comes The Sun," fingers strumming the strings gently and with care, dedicating the sweet words to his beloved son. By the time he was finished Dhani was fast asleep- grin faltering as he drifted off, but still visible on his lips. George placed the guitar back on the stand gently, taking care not to wake the sleeping lad. He smiled to himself, tears welling in his eyes as he turned to admire his son's peaceful face. "I love you, my boy," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Dhani's forehead before tip-toeing out of the room and shutting the door cautiously. Back pressed against the wooden door, George let his eyelids fall shut and sighed: "Sweet dreams, Dhani." ♡

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

[let-me-luve-you]

Overlooked and Overworked

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Being Tom Holland’s little sister was great growing up, but after his success she’s a little left behind. Y/N Holland is willing to do whatever for her family because she loves them.

Warnings: Angst, fluff ending, rude Tom, overworked, sleep deprived

A/N: I don’t think Tom or any of the members of the Holland’s would allow this to happen to any member of their family or friends, I just had this idea and wrote it. Also I wrote this back in like January and just now got the guts to post it!

MASTERLIST    BUY ME A COFFEE

The past couple of years for you have been an emotional roller coaster. You’ve been so excited and happy to see your brother succeed in his career. It’s always fun to see him on the big screen as someone else. But it’s also been tiring and sad because you feel left out. You don’t get to go to set often, you don’t get to travel with him, and you aren’t a part of his charity. The Brothers Trust is just him and your 3 other brothers. Given you help out way more than all of the brothers. Since you went to school for business, you help your mum and dad with both of their businesses and then run The Brothers Trust.

Tom is the oldest, then it’s you, the twins, and then Paddy. You’re only a year and a half younger than Tom. You were very close growing up, but once he started doing movies, you slowly grew apart. Him and the twins then grew closer. You loved him dearly but it just wasn’t the same since you never felt included. He took Harry to sets with him and on press tours. Sam would join along when he wasn’t working at the restaurant. Paddy would join during school breaks. But every time you would try to join him, he would say no. That he was too busy or too tired. You didn’t want to fight him but you were always crushed.

When he got the role of Spiderman, he decided then he wanted to move out into his own apartment. You offered to help him find a place since you had been looking for yourself. You offered to share a place and split rent but he said he wanted to be completely on his own. But shortly after he moved into his new 4 bedroom apartment, he had Harrison, Tuwaine, Sam, and Harry move in.

“The twins are moving in with Tom. Can you help pack and move them this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“What? They’re moving in with Tom? I thought he wanted his own space?” You asked him.

“He said he wanted to be around people because it was too lonely and quiet. Did you ever find a place? If so, you may want roommates too.”

“No I realized I can’t afford a place in a nice area to live alone. All my mates have moved off to continue their education or they have jobs else where.” You said sadly.

“Tom should of asked you then. I’m sorry y/n/n.”

“It’s fine. He hangs out with all four of them all the time. I would of just been in the way.” You said as you got up and left the room.

It’s been a couple of years and you still can’t afford to get your own place. Between helping run three businesses, you don’t have time to get a part time job. You pay your parents for rent and help pay bills so you are doing adult things. Plus it helps your parents financially. It’s busy season since your mum is picking up gigs for photoshoots, your dad is on tour for standup and his new book, plus you are planning a movie event through the trust as well as trying to get all the merch bagged and shipped. You have been working 14-15 hour days for the past 3 weeks without a day off. You are feeling the tiredness mentally and physically.

Tom has time off from the movie he is filming now. They gave him a month off for the holidays. Him and Harry have been home but all they have done is hung out with friends and go to the pub. You have been holed up in your office/bedroom for 3 days straight. Only to go out to the bathroom and kitchen to grab food.

“Where has y/n been? I haven’t seen much of her since we got home.” Harry asks Tom.

“She might be finalizing the Spies in Disguise event and getting things ready.” Tom responded.  

“Oh good. Y/n is great at getting a head start on things so I’m guessing she’s done with all the prep and souvenirs.” Harry smiled. Tom laughed in response.

On Christmas Day, you only came out of your room for breakfast and lunch and then went back in your room to work. No one noticed the bags under your eyes that you tried to hide with makeup. No one noticed you almost falling asleep at the table. No one thought twice about why you spent most of Christmas alone in your room. But you were behind. You still had a lot of orders to fulfill and send out. You still had get all of the souvenirs together for the event that was in two days. You still had to finish sending out your dads orders for his book as well as finalize his January travel plans and stand up dates. Your mum had booked 12 more shoots and you had to finalize times and dates. And everything was supposed to be done in the next week. You finally caved and decided to ask Tom for help since it was his event after all.

“Hey Tom can I have you help me out for a little bit?” You asked him Christmas evening.

“Do you need me tonight?” He asked.

“If you can that would be great.”

“Sorry y/n/n. I can’t. I’m meeting to boys at the apartment.”

“Well maybe they can help too.” You sounded hopeful to get more help to lighten your load.

“No can do. We have drinks and plans.”

“Well then can you come tomorrow morning or early afternoon?”

“Can’t. I have a meeting with my manager to discuss everything that’s coming up and then all of us at the apartment and Paddy are going into the city. Maybe I can help you after the event?”

“No it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” You said sadly as you turned to go back to your room.

“What about Paddy? Or mum or dad?” He asked.

“Paddy has football that mum is taking him to before she does a shoot tomorrow. Dad is working on some other stuff for his January shows.”

“Sam or Harry?”

“Well both will be with you tonight and tomorrow.”

“What about in the morning?”

“Sam has to work remember. And I think Harry is meeting with some mates to catch up with them or something along those lines. It’s fine. I’ve got it handled. Have fun tonight and tomorrow. Be safe. Love you.” You turned and almost ran back to your room. You wanted to break down in tears from being overwhelmed and for not being included in any of Tom’s plans of hanging out and catching up. You’ve barely seen Tom in the past year. Only when he’s in London. You shook the thoughts of your brother out of your head and pulled out a sheet of paper. You wrote down everything that needed to be done. Then on your white board, wrote them down in most important the least important.

First up was getting all of the brothers trust bags done. You went to the storage closest and pulled out everything you would need and set the boxes on your bed. Then you went and grabbed a tote to put the finished product in. It took you until 4 am, but you finally finished putting them together. You went into the kitchen and made you some tea. You went back in your room and marked the brothers trust goody bags off of your list. Next you started finalizing plans for your mum. That just involved organizing times and dates. You finished that around 1030 am. You marked that off the list as well.

Before you emailed all of the clients their dates and times, you went to the kitchen to grab and snack and drink. Your mum was in the kitchen.

“Morning love.” She smiled at you.

“Morning.” You said back waiting on your tea.

“So I’m going to drop Paddy off at football in 20 minutes and then Tom will pick him up to go into the city. I have to go to my shoot. Do you have the invoice I can give them?”

“I do.” You rushed to your room and grabbed it from a folder then went back and handed it to her. “Everything is on there. The deposit has been paid and it shows that as well as the price for the shoot and the editing. It also gives the timeline of when they will get the pictures.”

“Great. This is wonderful. Thank you. Also the theater called and said we can set it up today at 3 pm. Are you okay to handle that on your own?”

You sighed but answered, “yes I can handle it. I finished the bags last night. I just need to print off the papers to put on the seats as well. Plus get the itinerary finished which I will have by tonight so Tom knows what’s going on.”

“That’s great. I’ll be there to take photos as well as Harry but the boys will all be busy with fans and making sure they all feel special.”

“Sounds good. Have fun on your shoot.”

Your mum smiled as her and paddy left the house. You went back into your room and emailed everyone for your mum. Then you printed the brothers trust sheets that said what the event was supporting and how we were thankful for their donations. As those were printing you forgot you had to pick up an order of pictures so Tom could sign them for the guest coming to the screening. You looked up and saw that it was 130 and if you were going to be on time you needed to leave in the next 15 minutes.

After you loaded the goody bags into your car, you drove the 20 minutes to the print shop to pick up the pictures. You then went to the theater and set everything out. It took 45 minutes to lay everything out and make sure it was perfect. You then snagged some photos for Instagram and posted them. By the time you got home it was just shy of 5. You went straight to your room to finalize the itinerary. At 8 pm your mum knocked on the door.

“Hey baby. I’m back. How did everything go setting up wise?”

“It was good. Took longer than expected but wasn’t too bad for being the only one there. Also here is the itinerary for you and dad. I also have one for each of the boys.”

“Wow. This is detailed perfectly.”

“It kind of had to be since Tom has an event to go to tomorrow night and he can’t be late. I figured the more detailed, the less things can go wrong.”

“Fair point. Love I’m not sure if the boys notice the work you put in, but I do. Have you slept yet?”

You looked at her shocked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I can tell you are exhausted. I woke up at 2 am last night and heard you in here and saw your light was still on.” She paused and looked at your long list on the white board. “And by the looks of it, you have a long to do list. Do you need help? After we get through the event I can help. I don’t have a shoot for a couple of days.”

“I appreciate mum, but this list needs to be done by then. And everything you can help me with will be done already. But thank you.”

“Did you ask your brothers to help? I mean this is there thing. They should be helping you. Not leaving it to you to do yourself.”

“I asked Tom to help so I could have him do the goody bags for tomorrow but he had a guys night with Sam and Harry and them last night. Then they were all busy this morning and then went into the city. But it’s fine. I did the bags last night. That’s what you heard when you woke up.”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m going to have a talk with him. Have you had a break to just hangout with Tom. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”

“No he’s always in a meeting or with the boys. But if Tom wanted to see me, he’d make time but when I try, he can’t. But with all this work, I haven’t really done much outside of this room in a while so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You both used to be so close. Almost like you were twins. Weirdly enough closer than the twins have ever been. I hope you two can work whatever this is out.”

“Me too mum. Me too.” You looked at her as she slowly walked out.

After your mum left the room, you got back to work finalizing your dads stuff. Thankfully it was only 12 am when you finished. Deciding to pack all of the orders so you can drop them off to be shipped in the morning, you went and grabbed everything you would need from the storage closet and got to work. You stayed up all night working. You finally finished all the orders at 9 am. When you realized the time you rushed to get dressed and cleaned up as best you could. By 10 am you were out the door to go to the post office to ship the orders and then you were off to the theater to make sure everything was set. By 1pm the rest of your family showed up. And by 2 the theater was full of people who were excited to see the brothers and the movie.

People knew who you were. Everyone knew Tom had a sister. But you did great staying out of the eye of people. None of your brothers posted much about you on social. Your dad mainly posted about Tom and the brothers golf adventures. Your mum would occasionally when she made you model when she was trying something new. So when people arrived, they walk past you and straight to the four brothers who were ready to greet everyone.

When the event started, you weren’t really needed so you went to a back room they had set up for your brothers to relax away from people and sat on the couch. Not sleeping since Christmas Eve was starting to catch up with you but some how you forced yourself to stay awake.

“Y/n we have a problem.” Your youngest brother said as he came in the room. “The movie hasn’t started yet and it was supposed to 15 minutes ago.”

“Okay I’ll go see what’s going on.” You went to the manager of the theater and she explained to you how the light in the projector went out and it was going to be another 20 minutes before it started. She apologized multiple times.

“Hey Tom. Can you do a q&a for 20 minutes or so?”

“No the movie is supposed to be on.”

“They are having technical difficulties and it’s going to take 20 minutes to fix it.”

Tom got annoyed because he knew this was pushing the entire timeline back and it was now be pushing it for him to be on time for his event tonight. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when we are good to go.”

After 30 minutes. The movie was finally ready to go. Every one was enjoying it and all four of your brothers moved around the theater so the kids felt like they were watching the movie with them personally. When it was over everyone was ushered into a lobby where there was a meet and greet with photos. By the time the boys were done with everyone, it was 20 minutes until Toms next event.

“Great. I’m going to be late. Thanks for that y/n. Why didn’t you have them check everything yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t think of it.”

“So stupid. How could you not think of it? It’s literally the first thing on the list of things to check when prepping the theater. Do your job better. Thats what you are paid to do. I’ll see you later.” Tom rolled his eyes and stormed off. You just stared feeling humiliated since the theater staff and your family had witnessed that. You were holding in your emotional breakdown until you could do it in private.

“Sorry guys. Y’all can go ahead and head out. I’ll clean this up and bring home whatever is ours.” Sam, Harry, and Paddy saw this as a get of jail free card and booked it out of the theater. Your dad came by and kissed you on the head and said I have to finish up some work and headed out. Your mum looked at you sadly.

“I’ll help you baby.”

“No it’s okay mum. Go edit the photos so we can get them sent out.” You smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I can do them later tonight.”

“Mum seriously. Go home. I got this. I’ll be home later. You kissed her on the cheek as you walked back in the theater. You thankfully left the tote yesterday which made it easier to put everything in. You put the tote in your car and headed back in the theater to sweep and clean up the mess. By the time you got home, it was 9 pm. You had been up for 61 hours straight. You were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. But Tom was home and he was livid.

“What the hell?” He asked.

“What?” You asked back.

“You know I got yelled at by my manger for 30 minutes about how I was irresponsible and immature for being almost a hour late to the event tonight?”

“Why did you get yelled at? You were doing stuff for charity. He should get over it.”

“He was mad because SOMEONE told him I would be done with our event in plenty of time to go to this other one. And when I told him there was technical difficulties because that same SOMEONE didn’t do their job, he got even more mad.”

“I get that I probably should of checked but things happen Tom. Okay? Things I can’t control. Things the theater can’t control. I did this entire event by myself. Sorry for not checking but other than the delay the people loved it and we raised money which is okay because our charity now can help so many more.”

“You didn’t do this by yourself. We all help. And our charity? Our? You mean mine? Sams? Harry’s? Paddys? It’s our faces that make that charity. And when something goes wrong we are the ones that look bad. Not the person behind the scenes that only does some of the work.”

You looked at him like he was a stranger. What he said broke your heart. That’s what he really thought? You just shook your head lightly and walked to your room. You shut the door and locked it.

“Really Tom?” Your mum asked as her and your dad walked in during the argument.

“Yeah mum. We do all the work and she’s trying to take the credit. We’ve all noticed and it’s getting out of hand. You do more than she does.”

“Tom I’m extremely disappointed in you right now.” Your dad said.

“Tom she does all of the work. The planning, the scheduling, the packaging, social media, distributing the money, and figuring out all the ways we can make money to help those smaller charities.” Your mum added.

“She does?”

“Yes Tom. On top of helping me and your father with our businesses. We’ve seen you more than her this past month because she’s been so busy.” Your mum said.

“Wow.”

“Did you know she was up until 4 am on Christmas night so she could finish the goody bags before we had to prep the theater. That she had those pictures printed so you could sign them for the guest. That she made an itinerary so detailed that nothing could go wrong. Except she didn’t account for technical difficulties. She set up the theater and cleaned the theater all by herself. None of us helped her. We just showed up for the event.” Your mum said.

“Tom have you not noticed how exhausted she looks? It looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s trying her best to handle everything so we can have everything run smoothly for us. She even mentioned your event and how she needed to get you out of there so you wouldn’t be late. We’ve all been horrible to her by letting her do this by herself.” Your dad said.

“I... I didn’t know. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Tom got up and knocked on your door. He couldn’t hear anything so he tried opening it. He noticed it was locked and went to his old room and found the key you gave him years ago. When he unlocked it he noticed the mess around your room of boxes, plastic, mail bags for packages, and stacks of papers. He saw you on your bed and saw you were asleep. He went over and tucked you in. He went to your desk and saw the white board with everything marked off under the to do list. He then looked on your desk and saw how your mum and dads plans were finalized. He knew you mentioned everything when you asked him for help Christmas night and now you were done with it. Even all the orders were done and he saw the receipt from the post office proving the orders were shipped. He felt horrible knowing the only way that you got everything done was by staying up all night.

He turned and walked back to you and finally noticed the bags under your eyes. As well as tear stains that he knows he’s the cause for. It broke his heart knowing he was the cause. It also broke knowing that you asked for help so you wouldn’t fall in the deep end, but by saying he couldn’t help, he pushed you in and watched you drown without even realizing.

He gave you a kiss on the head and got up and quietly walked out.

“What time did y/n wake up on Christmas Day?”

“From what we know, maybe around 8 or 9.” Your dad said. Tom sat there quietly while doing the math in his head.

“61 hours.” He suddenly said.

“What?” Your mum said.

“61 hours. That’s how long she went without sleep. She asked me for help and told me why and I said no. She’s finished the list. She’s organized both of your stuff. She’s packed and shipped out all of the orders. She did everything for the event. She hasn’t slept. She’s asleep now but it was 61 hours. How could I let my sister do that? How did I not see it?” Tom asked his parents. They looked at him in shock.

“My poor baby” your mum said.

“We will talk to her tomorrow when she wakes up.” Your dad said.

“I want to be here when she wakes up so I can apologize. I’m going to go see her again.”

He got up and walked to your room. He quietly started cleaning up the mess left from packaging orders. He then laid on the other side of your bed thinking about how he messed up so bad. Shortly after he fell asleep too.

-——————

Around 7 am you woke up still exhausted but you needed a glass of water. When you went to throw the blanket off of you, you saw Tom asleep in your bed still in his clothes from the night before.

You were confused as to why he was in your bed, but you chose to ignore him. You stood up and went to the kitchen. Your mum was already cooking breakfast.

“Morning baby. How’d you sleep?” Your mum asked.

“Alright. I’m probably going to catch a few more hours. Just needed water.” You said. “By the way, do you know why Tom is in my bed?”

“He felt bad about how he has treated you lately.” She said. “He figured out you went 60 something hours without sleep.”

You looked at her shocked and sat down. She came over and gave you a hug.

“Why did you do that to yourself? Why didn’t you ask for help?” Your dad said as he joined both of you in the kitchen.

“You were working on new stuff. Mum had shoots and a house to run. I asked Tom and thought maybe him and the boys could help but they had plans. It needed to be done before the new year and definitely needed to be done before the event.”

“We appreciate you so much baby girl. I hope you know that. You do a lot for this family and this family isn’t great at giving back. We do love you.” Your mum said as she gave you a kiss on the head. “Now please go get some sleep. Sleep all day if you’d like and I can bring you food later.”

You smiled at her and walked back to your room. Tom still hadn’t moved. You sat your water on your bedside table and crawled back under the covers. You turned your back towards Tom. You were still really saddened by his words last night, that you didn’t want to face him yet.

“Y/n/n are you awake?” You heard Tom whisper.

“Go back to sleep or get out.” You said back not opening your eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n. What I said last night was wrong. I didn’t realize you do everything for our trust. I thought mum and dad did it all. I know you’ve been killing yourself to try and catch up then get ahead, but you can’t do that to yourself. You need proper rest. I’m going to make sure you never do the 61 hours straight again. I’d rather myself do it before I let you do it again.”

“Tom it’s okay. But seriously. Leave or go back to sleep.”

“No it’s not okay. I’ve royally fucked up. I’ve let us get so far apart we are almost strangers to one another. I have a charity that doesn’t even have your name on it and you do all the work. You make sure my fans are happy as well as making sure we help other small charities. You’re absolutely amazing and I’ve treated you like shit for the last few years. I don’t even give you the time of day. I promise you this, I will do better. We will be like we used to. Even if I have to kidnap you and take you with me different places. I love you and I don’t want to be the one hurting you anymore.”

You rolled over and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your brother finally recognized you for you. He finally realized what he’s done.

“Thank you Tom. I love you too.”

He smiled at you and leaned over to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“It really means a lot that you said that. But can I please go back to sleep. I’m still exhausted.” You said.

Tom pulled you to him so your head was on his chest and shoulder. And he cuddled you so you felt protected from all the horrible things that can go wrong for you.

“Get some sleep and when you wake up, me and you will hang out. Just the two of us.” Tom said. You smiled as you drifted back to sleep.

[adenei]

Hey!! Can u do 22 from Taylor Swift inspired prompt list with the ship of course HINNY.... Would love to read ur take on it.. 💗💗💗

Hello anon! Thanks so much for the ask! This was a tricky one because I don’t see Harry or Ginny as big criers..BUT I wrote a little one shot for @sweeethinny here and had the perfect idea to continue the story with your prompt.

So I hope you don’t mind the AU-ness of this little drabble!

************

That’s what these tears are for.

Ginny,

It’s not you, it’s 

No, don’t write that, you prat! If you send that, she’ll think you want to break up. That’s not it! Harry thought as he crumpled up the fifth piece of parchment that evening.

He’d been waiting for her to write him back for two weeks. Two weeks. He was even prepared for the reaming out his uncle would have given him if Pig or Errol had shown up at 4 Privet Drive. 

Harry knew she’d be upset that they hadn’t been able to see each other, let alone talk recently, but it wasn’t his fault that his parents had to go on some secret mission for the Order and he had to go stay with his aunt and uncle who despised magic. Hedwig couldn’t even come with him. He had to tell her to go to the Hogwarts Owlery for the time being because no one would be around to take care of her.

Harry sighed and looked down at the new sheet of parchment that was waiting for his words. I should probably just be honest with her. Assuming she doesn’t think I’ve already chucked her for that muggle who hangs about, he resigned, shuddering at the caramel haired teen who lived in his neighborhood that had been a little too friendly on their last encounters—one of those with Ginny at his side. 

That was why he was sure she’d been so cold and distant. She’d never struck him as the jealous type, but she’d flooed home before he could even defend himself after that horrid incident. Before he could tell her where he was going for the next two weeks. Ginny was barmy if she thought he had eyes for anyone but her. 

He dipped the quill in ink and started again, hoping this would be the letter to make things right.

Ginny,

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. I was going to tell you the last time you were over, but you left before I got the chance. My parents had to go on location for a job and I was forced to go stay with my aunt and uncle the past two weeks. Hedwig couldn’t come with me, so I couldn’t write. You know how Petunia and Vernon are. 

I wish we didn’t leave things the way we did last time. I promise you I’m not interested in Carla. Really, I’m not. It’s not my fault she doesn’t ever leave me alone! Can I see you tomorrow? If it wasn’t so late I’d floo over there right now. I miss you. Please write back soon. I’ll promise Hedwig extra treats if she flies back with a response tonight.

I love you.

Harry

There, that would work. It wasn’t as good as reassuring her in person, but there was nothing he could do at 10:00 at night. So, he got up and tied the letter to Hedwig’s leg.

“You don’t mind a late night journey, do you? It’s not that far, just to the Burrow.”

He ran a hand over her feathers as she clucked her beak at him while he tied the parchment to her leg. 

“Thanks, Hedwig. If Ginny writes back tonight, please come home with it, yeah?”

Hedwig made a forward motion with her head, sort of like a nod as Harry walked over and opened his window. He watched the snowy owl fly out, expecting her to head toward the Burrow, but was surprised when she started out that way before suddenly turning and making a nosedive for the large oak tree in the backyard.

“What in the—” Harry said as he watched the scene play out before him.

And that’s when he saw a flash of red hair shining from the moonlight, and a broom propped against a tree. Was that—was she actually here? Harry backed away from the window and knew there was only one way to find out.

He headed out of his room and crept down the stairs so his parents wouldn’t hear. He grabbed his sneakers by the front door, putting them on before he made his way to the back door by the kitchen. Quietly opening the door, he slipped outside and walked back towards the tree. He felt for his wand, making sure he had it just in case. Sure enough, Ginny was hiding behind the tree.

“Gin? What are you doing here?”

“I—” she bit her lip as she looked up from the parchment. “I got in a fight with Mum and needed to get out, so I took a fly and ended up here,” she said breathlessly. Her cheeks red, no doubt from the embarrassment of being caught.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry said as he stepped toward her, but she backed away.

“Is this true?” she asked, holding up the letter.

“Why wouldn’t it be? Gin, I know you’re probably pissed, especially after the way things left off the last time you were here, but I want to fix this. That’s why I wrote to you as soon as I got home.”

She half chuckled, half snorted, and Harry noticed a couple tears falling freely down her cheeks. Oh, fuck, he was never good with crying. That was one thing he loved about Ginny—that she wasn’t a crier.

“That’s what these tears are for,” she admitted with a small smile. “I was starting to think you were going to chuck me.”

Harry closed the distance between them and engulfed her in a hug. “Never.”

Finally, after two weeks of torture and no communication, things felt right again.

[gucciwins]

Hate or Love

Harry and Y/N are stuck between two emotions, love and hate.

Word count: 5424

A/N: enemies to lovers, and yes there is a bit of smut. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

"What does the note from Harry say this time?"

Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know it's Dani who could not hold back her laughter. She turns her head to give her a stern look, ignoring the smile on her face. She turns her attention back to the folded sheet of paper addressed to Miss Cupcake. 

Y/N sighs. Her name is definitely not Miss Cupcake. Her neighbors know how to push her buttons. Hard. 

Asshole.

The door to her bakery swings wide open, and Sailor makes herself known. "Book club, ladies!" She yells. "I don't want to be late." Sailor stops right in front of them. Her eyes flicker to Dani's then Y/N's last to the note in Y/N's hands. A smile takes over her face.

"Stop. You both are too happy about these notes. It's ridiculous. May I remind you he's rude and very uptight." She slams the note down on the table. 

Dani gets up and makes sure to push her chair in to keep it nice and clean because she knows that's how Y/N likes the bakery. 

Dani and Sailor are wearing matching grins, and when together, they become a lot to handle. Dani is always the sweeter one, but not at this moment, she can melt the glare being sent to them both. Hand on her growing pregnancy belly and the other offered to Y/N. "Come on, let's see it." 

Y/N knows not to fight her and hands it right over. She knows that she loses all fights to her when she's cute and very pregnant. "Take it. It’s not even important."

"Sure, hun."

Sailor practically skips over to Dani as they huddle together to read the paper. Dani laughs before clearing her throat, obnoxiously. 

"Miss Cupcake-" She sends an amused look over to Y/N, and she rolls her eyes waiting for her to continue. "As I've mentioned in previous notes, I don't think your cat knows where it's home is. May you please get this under control, or I'll be forced to take action to fix this situation of ours. H" 

"That wasn't so bad. It's sweet." Y/N rolls her eyes, knowing it's hopeless. 

"Y/N, you should definitely go on a date with him. He's got a nice sense of humor. You agree right, Sail? If I didn't have Marco, I'd want a chance with him." 

Pregnancy makes Dani crazy. 

"Nope. You are both out of your mind." 

Dani waves the note as if the answer is right in front of her. "It's obvious he's only doing this to get you to talk to him. He wants to rile you up, which is obviously working."

"You can't really believe that. He hates me. And Alpine, obviously. He's the biggest sweetheart, he always comes home for a cuddle. I don't understand why he keeps going over there, I give him his favorite snacks, let him take over my pillows." Y/N sighs. 

Sailor taps her finger on her chin before pointing at Y/N. "He doesn't hate you."

She shakes her head in denial. "No, he does. He has from the moment he moved in."

Dani disagrees. "You almost hit him with a hockey stick when you first met him."

"Nope, you can't judge me for that. He started moving at four am. It was still dark, I got scared. My first thought, just like everyone else's, would be that someone broke in." She shakes her head at her friends. 

Sailor nods in agreement. "I think I would have hit him before he was able to get a word out. I understand your reaction."

Dani snorts at her. "Fair enough. I still think that you just got off on the wrong foot. He doesn't actually mind Alpine, but he does send you the notes because he can never use his balcony." She stops for a second before pointing her finger very close to your eye. "You're also partaken in the game."

"Me?" Y/N says in disbelief. "I'm an angel." 

"Yes, you. You're just going to ignore the catnip incident." Dani smirks

Heat rushes to Y/N's cheeks rather quickly. "Once. I did it once, and I was half sober." 

"Half sober?" Dani raises her eyebrows. 

"I don't get drunk, so yes, half sober." 

"I'm sure it was like two times, you called me after each time." 

Sailor throws Y/N a big grin. "Two times. You threw catnip on his balcony two times."

She shrugs. "Maybe I did, or maybe I didn't."

Sailor walks over and throws her arm over Y/N's shoulder, laughing. "Naughty, girl. You're bad, probably learned from me." 

The room fills with laughter at her comment, they calm down a moment after. Her face is still hot from her secret admission. 

Sailor's phone rings, and quickly after checking the screen, she nods as if answering the text. "As much as I want to know more, Abigail texted me. The girls are waiting for our arrival." 

Y/N lets out a slow breath of air. "Lead the way."

Dani leads the way, she looks back at Y/N over her shoulder. "Can't wait. Hot neighbor, here we come."

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

The first Thursday of the month. One of his favorite days, just like the third Thursday each month. It brings Harry lots of joy seeing his neighbor after each note. The color on her cheeks, stomping into the store as soon as she walks into the store. It's satisfying and sexy as hell.

Harry enjoys her sass and her beauty; their fun little game has allowed him to accept his new routine. He didn't expect to run a book/coffee shop. But he could never say no to his grandmother when she announced she was ready to retire. After losing his grandfather, she hasn't been the same. Gemma and Harry try their best to support her. He runs the shop, and Gemma visits as much as she can with her kids. He's lucky his mum runs the book store allowing him to focus on the rest. 

His grandmother never mentioned the book club of ladies that came included with the store. It's only two days a month, but it's nice. He enjoys having them there. Dot, Abigail, Margie, Sailor, Dani, and Y/N are the core of the group and a few others that attend sporadically. 

Y/N, his neighbor with her business next door and her apartment above and right next door, is Harry's favorite. She brings the delicious treats, everyone, raves about that she shares even though he knows it pains her. Bless her good manners. She's also a stunning woman. The most beautiful person he has ever seen. A true masterpiece. 

Harry walks over to the group, he stands directly behind where Y/N is sitting. "Good evening to you all." 

Harry knows all the other ladies have picked up on their flirty game. They caught on pretty quickly, everyone but her. Y/N's great, but how can someone so cute have no clue that he’s interested. Harry knows there has to be something there because she steals glances at him. 

"Would you all like your usual?" Harry's gaze moves across the group, catching everyone's collective yes's. "I'll get right on it." 

Harry walks out a big grin on his face. He's quick to finish their orders and bring them out. He heads back for the last two when he stops from entering the back room when he hears Y/N voicing her thoughts. 

"It seems unrealistic. No man will sweep you off your feet then kiss you breathless. Even less press you against a wall and kiss you until you forget your own name. The men we read about are fictional and hard to find if there are any left." 

Harry would love to kiss her, give her all the pleasure possible. He'd give it to her whenever she asked. 

The women are nodding along to her. Dani spots him standing there, and Harry has the sudden urge to go back to the station. She has a hard gaze set on him, and he feels like it's trouble waiting to happen. 

She smirks, her eyes not straying from Harry's "Oh, I believe there are men still out there. Don't you, Harry?"

Shit. 

Just as quickly, all eyes turn to me, and he plasters a grin on his face as he sets down the drinks for Dani and Sailor. He is quick to gather his thoughts, knowing they are waiting on him. "Yes, those men are out there. No one is perfect, but they are passionate and kind. The right partner brings out the best in you, all bets are off all is fair game for them both. Think it makes a relationship stronger and definitely spices up the bedroom."

Y/N mutters something under her breath that sounds like, "Okay, sure."

Harry is quick to look her way and catches her gaze. "Sorry, I missed that Y/N."

"What?" She questions back as her blush deepens, not breaking the stare. 

"You don't think that man is out there. You don't think a man can be passionate?" Harry wants her to see it in him. 

She shakes her head, causing loose hairs to fall out of her messy bun framing her face. He wants to reach out and brush it back. "No, they exist. I do believe they are out there. It's just incredibly rare, and most likely already taken. 

Harry nods, agreeing with her, as do. the ladies around her. "Could be that you aren't looking in the right places. Maybe," Harry pauses, looking her right in the eyes. "you aren't open to finding someone like that. or you're just picking the wrong ones." 

She leans back, and a look of hurt passing through her eyes, and Harry feels terrible. He didn't want to come across as an asshole, but that is precisely what happened. Hae's doing it all wrong. Harry hears the small chime of the door opening and takes that as his cue to leave. "Excuse me, ladies. Sorry to interrupt." 

Harry is happy to leave, unsure if he stayed there any longer he'd do something stupid like actually kiss Y/N. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Y/N is whisking the batter for cupcakes when her thoughts drift back to Harry. 

Maybe you aren't open to finding someone. 

Three days since the book club and his voice is stuck in her head on a loop, it drives her crazy. He hurt her, but maybe he's right. 

Or you're picking the wrong ones.

He doesn't know her, how can he be right. Y/N is going to drive herself crazy thinking about this. Maybe every guy she's met has been perfect, and she's the one who ruins it. Perhaps, she's meant to never be loved. She sets down the bowl and whisk and sighs. Love might not even be for her. 

"Looks like lots of fun being in here." 

Y/N jumps and turns around quickly to wipe her face of the tear that slipped down her face. That male voice is unfamiliar in her back room. Her heart continues to pound as her eyes meet bright green ones. 

She sees his eyes shift to her outfit before landing on her eyes. She knows they're puffy and red because she got little to no sleep last night. Harry's got a shining smile, and she currently doesn't want to deal with his remarks no matter how right or wrong. 

He looks good in a loose white t-shirt and mustard flared pants that compliment his thighs well. Y/N stops staring when she reaches his eyes once more and sees the smirk on his face with a hint of concern. Y/N can't believe she's attracted to Harry, hell she might like him. She looks behind Harry and sees the piping bags waiting to be filled with pink frosting. She'd like to lick it off Harry. Y/N takes a step back to shake his thoughts out of her head. 

"Did you need something, or was ruining my day the only thing you had on the agenda?"

"Harsh." His hand flies to his chest in mock. That feeling is quick to disappear, and it's replaced by what looks like concern or even worry. "I heard a noise when I came back from a small delivery thought I'd check it out. These close back doors come in handy."

"Well, all is good here. Your presence is not needed." Y/N shoots him a fake smile, hoping it'll get him out of here. She feels guilty, she might have been a little mean. She was never known to be mean, but she doesn't know what it is about him. 

There's so much to say to Harry, but she knows he won't even hear it. Harry probably doesn't even realize how the words stayed with me, especially after saying it in front of the other ladies. He's judged me just like everyone else has, and for once, they might be right.

Maybe the men she chose did suck. She hated having high expectations, but it's what her mother taught her to do. Allow yourself only the best love and not to stop until she finds it. Until now, she's still looking. Maybe, she should stop.

Harry takes a step inside, he's four steps away. He looks too good, and what she wants to do is say he was right about her. That she wants him to show her what she's been missing all along. Then he'll grab her by the waist, sit her on the table and kiss her senseless. 

Too bad, life isn't a romance novel. 

She turns back around, going back to whisking. "Your grandma's cupcakes will be ready soon. Brandon is going to box them up, take them over, and save you the trip. 

"Did I do something?" She hears him take a few more steps, meaning he's right behind her. "I can tell you're upset. I can help." 

Y/N grips the table, trying to keep her calm. "You just made me realize that I was the problem in all my past relationships. That I'm the problem, all those past guys were never good to me. That it's my fault I was—" She cuts herself off before sharing more than she intended. “It doesn't matter, I see your point."

She can't see Harry's reaction, but she knows he's shocked. She's waiting for him to say something.

"That wasn't what I meant when I said that," Harry says slowly as if she'd turn around to hit him. 

"Tell me what you meant then." She meant to say it softly, but it came out harsh. 

"Y/N, there is someone here for a cake and want to have a consult with you." A worker of hers peeks through the door. 

"I'll be right there, Tamara. Please have them wait for me in the consulting room." Y/N shoots her a smile, and she leaves. 

Y/N heads to the sink to wash her hands and then leaves through the door Tamara left through. All without another glance or word to Harry. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

It's nightfall, and Harry feels awful. If Harry didn't know why he was feeling so bad, he'd think he would have a heart attack. The way she broke down on him. Harry hurt her, he didn't mean to, but he did. He's the biggest idiot. Instead of having her fall in love, he made her hate him. 

Harry had just turned off the lights and headed to his room when he heard a knock on his door. He turns the hallway light on before heading to the door.

Y/N and Harry share the main door to get access to the apartments meaning someone has to buzz to get in, but since it's a knock. Harry knows it's her. He's never been more thankful to see her beautiful face. 

There she stands in all her beauty. Her hair is a mess atop her head, makeup-free face, and a pair of short cupcake pajamas. Very fitting for his nickname for her. Her stunning eyes stare into him, sparking and ready to attack. 

She lifts her hand to point the finger at him.

"I'm angry with you." 

Harry nods. "Okay."

"You started this downfall I fell in. I can't stop thinking about all the dating and pleasure. I don't like it, and I don't need it, you got it?" 

Her cheeks go red before her next words. 

"It's not my fault. I haven't been able to find a good guy. It's also not my fault; they didn't treat me well." 

"Okay."

"I know my worth, and you and your words aren't going to mess that up. I'll keep my standards high, and I'll keep respecting myself." 

"Okay." 

"Harry, you're driving me crazy. Stop saying okay."

"Ok—" He's cut off by her finger landing on my lips. Her touch sends chills down his body, and he honestly craves more. Harry wants to take that finger in his mouth, lick it, and suck it as he wants to do the rest of her body. 

A gasp leaves her mouth, and Harry swears must be having the same thoughts as him. It's sexy, and Harry only has so much self-control. Harry wants to take a step forward, wrap his hands around her hips to pull her close to finally feel his skin against hers. Six months, he's been waiting six months for the very moment he could make her his. 

She's quick to move her finger away. She doesn't know what to say, and for a moment, neither does Harry. Her eyes meet Harry's finally, and he sees the desire burning in her. He steps close, giving her a chance to stop him or tell him, no, but that small nod is all he needs. 

Y/N is in his arms, and her mouth is on his. They attack each other like they're starving. 

Harry wants her. He wants her forever. 

All his life was leading up to this very moment. She's letting him in, and he couldn't be more grateful. 

Wine and chocolate Harry tastes that on her tongue. 

Intoxicating 

She moans into his mouth and presses closer, his hands begin to wonder as do hers. Her fingers tightening in his hair. She's driving Harry crazy, igniting a fire deep inside him. His hands grab her ass tightly, needing her close. 

Y/N breaks the kiss, her breathing harsh and warm in my face. "More...Harry, I want... more." 

That's all Harry needs to drag her into his apartment, shutting the door. He presses her against the cool wood, all thoughts the only focus is bringing her the pleasure she deserves. She bites his lip, and Harry lets out a low moan. She gasps when she feels how hard he is against her, wrapping a leg around his hips to get them even closer. 

Harry groans, he bends a little to grab her other leg. "Hold on, baby."

She holds on tightly, her hands around my neck. Harry tries his best not to lose control, he doesn’t want to come in his pants. He would never recover from the embarrassment.

Y/N arches her back, and she exposes her beautiful throat to Harry. He doesn't think twice before attacking. Biting, sucking, licking. He gives it all to her. Her moans and whimpers allow him to keep going knowing that she is enjoying it. Harry has never been this hard in his life, he wants this forever. 

Harry feels her breast and looks down to see her nipples straining against her top's thin fabric. He tugs on one through the material, and Y/N writhes against me, rubbing herself desperately against him. Harry's just as desperate feeling the friction. 

Harry shifts her weight in his arms to move one of his hands between their bodies, finding her sensitive spot. He wants to see her come, he craves it. 

Harry returns his lips back to hers simultaneously, his fingers slip between her shorts and find the right spot. Harry's the one holding her, but Y/N's the one in control controlling our kiss and moving against his hand that is against her wet silk panties. 

Harry swallows every moan and whispers she lets out, it's all for him. She lets a loud moan against his lips then breathes out his name. Harry knows he's ruined forever after watching her come. 

Harry knew how amazing she was from the moment she almost hit him with a hockey stick while wearing her sunflower pajamas. He didn't expect her to change his entire life. 

He helps her come down her high as they both try to catch their breaths. As he set her down, he didn't pull away, keeping his hands on her waist and lips close by. Harry feels on fire, having her so close still. Harry brushes away the hair framed around her face, and he cups her cheeks, he's making sure he has her full attention. "Let's make one thing clear. Every single man you dated was an idiot. Any man and I mean any, would be lucky to have you." 

Y/N swallows. "Okay." 

He nods, "Okay?"

She nods her head up and down. "Okay, yes." 

Harry slips his hand in hers and brings it to his lips to kiss her soft hands. "Let's get some sleep." 

Harry leads the way with a smile on his face. As soon as they enter the room, he scoops in his arms and drops her gently in the bed, he climbs in the act. Once they are both comfortable, he drops the covers over them.

Harry hugs her tight. He's never been happier than he is right now with her in his arms. 

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"Can you repeat that?" Sailor's and Julia's voice blasts from the phone speaker. Y/N's thankful they aren't there to witness her embarrassment. Her face feels on fire. 

"Uhh...I left. I walked right out." 

Silence fills the air of the apartment. 

Dani sighs. She knows it is Dani because she's dramatic and likes to really drag it out. As much as they tease her, they love her, and she loves them. 

 "Explain, please." 

Y/N takes a sip of her chamomile tea that always helps her relax, but that's not the case this time. "Well, you know what happened last night. I woke up a little freaked out in his arms. Not that it was bad, it was amazing. I panicked."

"Continue," Dani urges her on. 

“I gave him a wave and walked out." Y/N knows that's embarrassing and doesn't want to see Harry. 

Dani is the first to laugh then Sailor follows suit. 

Y/N lets out a little laugh because it was funny, not her proudest moment. 

"Harry seems like an understanding person. Talk to him." Sailor suggested, all while still laughing. "Please stop embarrassing yourself."

The doorbell rings before she gets a chance to answer. "I've got to go. My pizza has arrived. Thanks for listening." 

The girls say their goodbyes and hang up. Y/N stands to go check the intercom but is only greeted by silence, she slips her shoes on to go check downstairs. Instead, she opens the door, Harry stands in front of it with her pizza in hand. The smile he gives her is one she hasn't seen before, but she'll be craving to see more. His dimples in full display, his eyes crinkle in a way she's never noticed before. She likes it—a lot.

"Hi." She glances down, and she's suddenly reminded of the clothes she threw on after her shower. Not her cutest top and shorts. Definitely, nothing impressive. 

Her nerves lessen when she catches his eyes roaming her body. She sees the lust in his eyes, the desire growing as he reaches her face. She wants to kiss him, but that's not the smartest move. "Is that my pizza?" She points to the box in his hands.

He nods and lets out a small laugh, "Yeah. I saw the delivery guy and thought I might convince you to share it with me." 

"Oh." 

"What do you say?" 

"Well, what do you have to offer? I'm not keen on sharing my pizza." She raises an eyebrow at him. The playful banter is back, but now the butterflies in her stomach are in full attack. 

Harry moves the pizza box to his side, allowing him to step forward. 

"Because—" He captures her lips with his. "I know," his lips brush along her jaw, "how to repay you." He sucks gently on her neck, a shiver running through her body. 

She knows exactly what he's referring to, and she's more than happy to accept. He pulls back and has a smirk on his face remembering the effect he has on her. Y/N bites her lip, allowing Harry to think she's thinking it over when his hand connects with her butt in response. He then squeezes, having her lean forward and fall against his chest. 

"I want all of you." She feels his chest rising faster, having her so close. "Please, no more running, Miss Cupcake." 

Y/N takes a breath to try her best to get herself under control, but she can't because all she smells is him. He smells like home. The smell of coffee and sugar mixing perfectly together. 

"Sorry, Harry. Last night was really amazing, but it just got to be too much in the morning. I mean, you know I've never done any of that." She pauses for a moment, mind-spinning because they do know a lot about each other. Life kept pushing them together. "And…I wasn't sure if it was a one-time thing or—"

His lips are on hers, his tongue urgently demanding entry, all words completely gone. A thud is heard, and the next second Y/N is in his arms, and she never wants to leave. His hands are in her hair, she moans the only noise filling the quiet apartment. 

Y/N pulls him closer by his shirt. She feels Harry flex as her skin touches him. Alpine lets out a cry from the chair he's sleeping on, pulling them out of the moment. 

Harry clears his throat, and she knows he's as messed up as her. She's trying her best to get her thoughts in order. "Would you like to come in?" 

Harry's eyes go wide, shining bright. "You're willing to share your pizza with me?"

"On the condition that you behave." Y/N laughs at his shock expression as if he could not be on his best behavior for her. 

Harry picks up the pizza box from when he dropped it. "Not fair, especially when you tempt me looking like that." 

"This turns you on." Y/N is surprised, closing the door as Harry makes his way to her couch. 

"Oh, baby. You're stunning. You make me lose my mind every time." 

She's blushing. Harry really likes her, she didn't expect that confession. She had gone most of her life not liking her body or looks, but over time she's come to love who she is. It was not easy, and there are still bad days, but having Harry tell her this makes her feel special. 

"Harry, have you liked me the entire time?" 

Harry's grin is sheepish. He holds his hand out, and she grabs it without a second thought. "Yes. God, yes, how could I not. I watched you go on a date with those idiots, giving you the time you needed to figure out what was right in front of you." He kisses her knuckles before he raises his head, allowing her to see his smirk. "Enjoying our game."

"Harry" It's all she manages to get out. 

"Don't gotta say anything. I'm all in." He tugs on her hand, having her land on his lap. "Don't think I'm ever letting you go again."

Y/N loves the sound of that. She doesn't know why Harry thinks all of this about her, but she's all in. 

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Eight Months

"Honey?" 

Harry can't help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Y/N call him that. It'll never get old. 

"Yes, what do you need?" He's wrapping the towel around his waist, coming out of the bathroom. 

"Bedroom, please." 

She is quick to look over her shoulder as Harry walks in. He sees her eyes lingering on his butterfly tattoo, her favorite he's come to learn. Harry loves it when she looks at him, he sees all the love she has for him.

Y/N is holding something, and as he steps closer, he is quick to recognize it. He cracks a smile. He doesn't bother keeping in his laughter. 

"I did not remember that was there." 

"Harry, please tell me why you have catnip hidden behind a Spice Girls ‘SpiceWorld’ hoodie?" She lowers the catnip and slowly closes the distance between them. 

He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. "All I wanted was sweet Alpine to be my friend." 

She shakes her head. "You're telling me that you put catnip on your balcony so he'd come over?"

Harry nods. Of course, he did; it was his most excellent idea. "Yes." 

"So did I." She whispers. 

Harry's eyes go wide. "You did?" He pulls her against him, causing her to let out a small shriek. "Do you have to be so perfect and crazy?"

"Just for you, Honey." She leans in close, breaths mixing together. "Two big reasons you love me." 

Harry nods. "Two of the million reasons." 

He reaches for her shirt and slips it off relatively easy. "Will you let me show you other reasons with my mouth, and my tongue and. . ." He cuts off as he grinds into her. His hands gently cupping her breasts. He drops his head and licks a path down her throat.

A sexy moan leaves her lips. "This is going to be quick, you in these black leggings always drive me crazy." He kisses your neck, and he guides you to the bed. 

Harry slides his hand down her leggings, and just as he was suspecting she's soaking wet. She's ready for him. He's quick to take them off, making sure there's no tear before letting his towel drop. 

Harry sinks in one swift move, making them moan in unison. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good." 

His thrusts are fast and hard, never slowing down. Harry can tell she's close when she begins to fist the bed. He leans down close, missing the feel of her lips against his. "Come for me, baby." He goes a few more, not slowing down, he feels her walls tightening.

"Harry!" She moans, just as her high hits. Harry is quick to follow, her expressions always helping him find his release. 

Harry falls against the bed pulling Y/N to lay on top of him. He wants her close, he always does. 

"I love you." He locks eyes with her wanting to see them sparkle.

The sweet smile she gives Harry is his favorite. "I love you."

Harry sits up against the headboard bringing Y/N closer to his chest. He begins to look around his almost empty room. The idea to turn their apartments into one was brilliant, but it has been a lot of work. Harry isn't fond of getting rid of items in his closet, which is why Y/N was there earlier.

"Are you happy, Harry?" Y/N asks as she traces a sparrow on his chest. It's soothing. 

He brings his hand down to her cheek, and he lifts her face gently to have her look at him. "Never been happier." She leans in to kiss him but doesn't allow him to deepen in. "Are you?" 

"Very." She kisses his dimples and settles back on his chest, continuing with what she was doing. 

At this moment, Harry knows he's never been happier, and they has a lifetime of happiness waiting for them.

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