#like a good book was actually hidden somewhere in here but trying to straddle the line between romance and abuse doesn’t work if you spend

[dc41896]

Mixed Signals

Pairing: college!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: One text from your boyfriend nearly wrecks your night

⚠️: Slight suggestive content, mentions of virginity, a very awkward yet hilarious (at least I hope it comes across as that) moment, fluff!

Stomach turning and heart racing, it’s hard to focus on the math problems in front of you with what’s spiraling in your head.

Ever since “My roommate’s out of town, you know what that means😉” flashed across your screen, you’ve been slightly confused and on edge. And your friend’s response after you sent her the screenshot didn’t make you feel any better.

“Not trying to pry, but have you guys....you know... yet?,” she asked over lunch in the courtyard.

“No..why you think that’s what he means?”

“I mean I’m not sure, but I know when my boyfriend sends the winky face it typically means we’re not getting any work done,” she grins to herself before taking a sip of her soda.

You, on the other hand, had lost your appetite and hadn’t found it since.

In your five months of dating you and Chris never really brought up going to that level of your relationship, and you thought he honestly didn’t care. He never pressured you or made any advances that made you feel uncomfortable; instead he just let things flow, which you appreciated. There was a part of you though, that wondered if things would always stay this way and he’d always be so patient.

Apparently you were quickly being shown how they wouldn’t.

Not that you didn’t want to go there. Clearly you weren’t blind to how attractive your boyfriend was with his piercing blue eyes that made you swoon at every glance, and muscular arms and legs making you embarrassingly stumble over your words those times he’d greet you at the door in only his boxers. Paired with his overall personality that kept you entertained from his dorky antics yet intrigued from his intellectual views, you were completely smitten already by the man across from you.

But if you were ready for the next step, you weren’t quite sure yet.

Plus even if you were you wouldn’t even know where to start! You knew what went where, obviously, but what about the other stuff that went with it? And what if you weren’t any good at it? You knew guys talked (even though they claim not to gossip but we all know), and you didn’t want to be that girl getting destroyed in the group chat. Oh God what if something was wrong with you down there?!

“Y/N?...Babe!”

“Huh? Yea?”

“I asked what’d you get for 25? My answer isn’t matching up with what’s in the book.”

“Oh uh I haven’t gotten there yet, I’m still on 12,” you answer now trying to catch up.

“You okay?”

“Yea, why?”

“Well for starters, you’ve been clicking your pen nonstop for a while,” Chris chuckles as you slowly lower your pen. “And you’ve been kinda spacey since you got here. Anything you want to talk about?”

“YES! A LOT ACTUALLY!,” you wanted to scream, but instead you simply shrugged.

“No, I’m fine. Just a little stressed I guess.”

“Why don’t we take a break then?,” he suggests closing his textbook. Watching him stand from his desk with a short stretch and yawn, your skin feels as if it’s been set ablaze wondering what would happen next.

“Is this him making a move?,” you thought as he plopped down on the bed next to you with a loud sigh. Holding his arms out with a childlike smile, a nervous laugh escapes your lips setting your textbook off to the side before wrapping your arms around his middle cuddling close to his body.

“So I’ve uh been thinking...”

And here come the nervous sweats. Please don’t let me stink.

“Mhmm?”

“Maybe we could try some new things?,” he answers, fingertips trailing up and down your spine.

“N-New?,” you swallow. From how hard your heart is pounding against your chest, you’re surprised Chris hasn’t said anything and that you haven’t gone into cardiac arrest.

Then again the night’s still young.

“Yea, but there’s no pressure. If you don’t want to it’s fine.”

“Not that I’m upset or anything, but where’s this coming from?,” you ask. Your hands moving to rest on his pecs helping you sit up.

“Just to change things up you know? What we usually do is fun, but I’ve started wanting different.”

Great, now you’re boring. Wait, are you gonna be boring in bed too? You honestly weren’t that flexible. Maybe you could sneak to the bathroom and stretch?

“Oh, um okay.”

“Hey it’s like I said though, if you don’t want to it’s completely fine,” he reassures sitting up himself and taking your hands in his. His warm thumbs running soothingly along the bumps of your knuckles before bringing them to his lips.

You were still scared, but deep down you felt that you could trust him with all of you, and you wouldn’t want your first time to be with anyone else.

“No, I-I want to,” you smile.

“Great! We can-,”

He can’t finish his sentence before your lips are hurriedly pressed to his and your hands gently frame the sides of his neck letting your thumbs graze along his jawlines.

So far so good Y/N, just don’t think about it.

You’d made out plenty of times before, but compared to you two now, you realized those in the past were more so innocent and playful with your breaks for small chuckles and fingers tracing facial features. Seemingly feeding off your energy, kisses now were hungrier and soon you were straddling his lap feeling something press against your thigh as his fingers dug into your hips.

Okay now that we’re here, do I take my clothes off first or his? Or do I take turns with both? Should I wait on him? Does it really matter?

His mouth moves lower to your neck attacking right above your pulse point, and in turn making it race faster as a hidden moan rolls off your tongue startling your own self.

Hold on, did I even shave my legs? Dangit, I said I would do it tonight when I got back.

You lean back to remove your graphic tee, but Chris holds your hands in place stopping you from moving any further.

“Baby you sure about this?,” he asks slightly out of breath with red and partially swollen lips. “It’s your first time and I don’t want you rushing into anything when you’re not ready.”

“Yea...I think so at least. Plus you were talking about doing something different-,”

“I was talking about going somewhere different for our date night. Supendi’s is nice, but there’s this new arcade for adults that I thought would be fun.”

“But..but you texted saying how your roommate wasn’t home. And the winky face.”

“Yea meaning that when we get done with our work, we can watch the big tv in the living room rather than being stuck in here holding my phone screen.”

“Ohhh...”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped right there as the blood drained from your face and apparently stopped in your throat from the lodged sensation you get.

Reminder: call your parents when you get the chance to ask if they dropped you on your head as a child, explaining why you’re so dumb now.

“You thought I was saying-?,”

“Yep, I did,” you sigh moving towards the opposite side of the bed pressed against the white as milk wall. Arms wrapped around yourself as you sink further into the mattress, your embarrassment also makes you feel uncomfortably vulnerable and desperately wanting to return to your room so you could cry in the corner of your shower.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” he states leaning down to kiss your temple before hugging you close, “It’s my fault you thought that. I should’ve been more clear, I’m sorry.”

“If I wasn’t sure, I should’ve just asked rather than assumed though. That would’ve saved a lot of embarrassment and stress.”

A lighthearted chuckle vibrates his chest and forehead rests against your temple distracting you long enough to bring some level of comfort.

“Don’t think I stopped because I don’t want to, believe me I really do. Like I said though, I want you to be sure you’re ready.”

You only nod, giving him a small smile while you bask in the sensation of his cool nose bumping and rubbing against your cheek.

“And you’re not bored, since we haven’t had sex yet?,” you timidly ask finally meeting his eyes.

“Of course not. I’m never bored when I’m with you, and never will be.”

How was he so perfect? Where did this guy come from Build a Boyfriend? Your lips find his, still a bit red from your earlier session, melting away any self doubt or overthinking that remained in your brain successfully bringing the quiet it so desperately needed.

“Thanks for being so patient with me.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @honeydulcewrites @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

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[keelywolfe]

FIC: Tarnished Knights (one-shot)

Summary: Edge isn't really interested in reading whatever books Stretch seemed to think he needs. He has enough problems trying to read their relationship.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Complicated Relationships, Flirtation, Budding Love, Idiots in Love

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

“hey, edgelord, i found some books for you.”

Edge did not look up from the papers he had spread across the table. He was designing a new puzzle trap and hardly needed any distractions. Not that he shouldn’t have been expecting one. These days Stretch came over often when he knew Edge would be home from patrol, despite Edge’s discomfort at having him in Underfell. So long as he stayed inside the house, there should be no issues, but there was always a prickle of unease when he appeared, a brief moment where Edge resisted the urge to send him home to the safety of Underswap. Then he would remember why Stretch was visiting and that urge would vanish, tucked beneath a more visceral, and pleasurable, one.

Red tended to make himself scarce when Stretch was on a solo visit and while Edge didn’t care for him spending extra time at Grillby’s, he also didn’t blame him for his desertion. Stretch’s normal lazy behavior tended to vanish when it came to bedroom activities and instead were best described as both enthusiastic and loud.

Better that Red left, otherwise Edge might well be treated to another of his brother’s morning score reviews and the less he heard Red say things like ‘wails like a cat stuck in a beat-up aluminum trashcan at the end of an alley in downtown san francisco. gotta give ‘im 6 out of 10’, the better.

Stretch hadn’t asked before coming over, sending a text only moments before popping in as he often did. Ignoring him was always an exercise in futility, for a variety of reasons, but Edge tried. There was something to be said for anticipation, something delightful, and he intended to keep Stretch waiting as long as he could manage.

Despite his efforts, distraction still came in the form of a rumpled paper sack dropped down on table, right on top of his plans. Edge growled impatiently and shoved the bag out of his way, glaring up at his…well, that was a discussion for another day. His semi-clone from another universe would do for now, and said clone was smirking down at him with the stick of a lollipop poking out from between his teeth. Smoking in the house was verboten for both Edge and Blue, and so Stretch often found alternate means of keeping his mouth busy.

Both the innuendo in that and the sight of his tongue curling around the candy behind his teeth threatened another mental derailment and Edge hastily turned his attention to the bag at hand.

“I don’t need any books.”

Stretch made a scoffing sound and plopped down on the sofa with his legs sprawling apart, since sitting properly would have been reasonable and efficient, and Stretch was neither. “everybody needs books. books are the keys to the imagination and, buddy, you need to unlock a door.”

“There is nothing wrong with my imagination and I don’t need any more books,” Edge said. “I have my puzzle books.” And a tattered copy of ‘Peekaboo With Fluffy Bunny’ hidden away where prying eyes would not easily find it.

“oh, yeah, riveting,” Stretch snorted. He unwrapped another sucker and popped it into his mouth, the candy clacking against his teeth as he rolled it to one side. “that’ll get the ol’ imagination roaring like lions on your mind savannah.”

“I beg your pardon, are you suggesting your copy of the ‘Principles of Quantum Mechanics’ stimulates your imagination?”

“yeah, actually, but i also have a copy of this just in case that doesn’t do the trick.” He sat up and rummaged through the bag, yanked out a book to shove directly into Edge’s face. “it works some pretty good magic once you get into it.”

He leaned back enough to focus on the cover, “The Once and Future King,” Edge read aloud without enthusiasm. His experiences with kings were not something he wanted to repeat in his leisure time.

“yeah, yeah, i can feel your doubt. c’mon, you’ll like it, just give it a try. for me?” Stretch wheedled. He batted his sockets and despite the lack of eyelashes, it was not entirely ineffective.

If Edge’s interest in the book was middling, his interest in Stretch was not, lacking definition but not depth. Still, it didn’t pay to give in too easily, especially when it was someone else acquiring the debt.

“What do I get if I do?” Edge countered. From the way Stretch’s smirk widened, his sockets sinking down to hood his eye lights, he’d chosen well.

“well, all that book-learnin’ gave me a hell of an imagination.” Stretch pulled the half-eaten sucker out of his mouth and tossed it carelessly into the nearby trash bin without so much as looking at it. With the sly grace he so rarely showed, he pushed Edge back against the sofa and straddled his lap, tongue gliding over his teeth as he murmured, “bet i can think of something.”

The taste of his magic was sweeter than the candy, and coupled with that kiss, it was headily addictive. Edge forgot entirely about puzzles and kings and books, lying back and letting Stretch’s imagination sweep them away.

~~*~~

Much later that night, Stretch was curled up sleeping next to him and it was a good thing that once he was asleep, he tended to stay that way no matter what. Normally the tendency was (terrifying) annoying. He’d never have survived his childhood in Underfell.

Tonight, Edge found he was grateful for it because despite the unforeseen exercise of the past few hours, he found himself restless and unable to sleep. Normally he might get up and clean, a deep scrub of the bathroom tiles made for an excellent mindless chore, but Stretch staying over was a rare occurrence and he wanted to stay close by. If he woke and found himself alone, he might think himself unwelcome and that would go against Edge’s very much unspoken wish that he stay over more often rather than shambling off after sex with a faint limp and a laconic smile.

Asking for such a thing was more likely to get Stretch sprinting back to Underswap than wish fulfillment, so Edge said nothing and quietly hoped actions spoke louder than words, at least enough to either get through Stretch’s thick, brilliant skull or beneath his prickly, non-existent skin.

But none of that helped tonight. Sleep lingered out of reach and Edge rolled over again, sighing to himself as he stared out into his bedroom.

Artificial light streamed in through his barred window and landed on his desk, illuminating the contents. He’d tidied up the living room before they’d gone upstairs to finish what was started on the sofa —leaving any mess only gave Red leverage for maddening sock placement— and the bag of books was sitting on his desk, set there by Stretch as evidenced by its haphazard placement. It had fallen over and books were spilling out from the top.

Since getting up was out of the question, Edge reached out with his magic, clumsily using two bones like an oversized pair of chopsticks to grasp the book like a grain of rice. He made a mental note to work on that particular exercise again, who knew when it might come in handy, as he flicked on the small lamp on the bedside table. He’d try a page or two, if only to make Stretch happy, and then claim his reward for the attempt.

He opened the first page, already unimpressed with the first nonsensical sentence, and wondering why Stretch thought he would find this interesting. He hoped whatever reward he received for the attempt would be worth it.

Some hours later, his spine ached from hunching over the book that was gripped so tightly in his hands the pages occasionally threatened to tear. His eye sockets felt dry and gritty as he greedily scoured the last page and at the end, he stared at the final words, hardly able to believe there was no more. His mind was still awhirl with thoughts of knights and wizards, a fallible king who was worthy of following and yet still betrayed, honor earned and lost by those who were rich in virtue and brought down by their foibles.

“you liked it, huh.”

Edge startled, the book falling from his hands, and jerked around to see Stretch was watching him. He was still curled around the pillow, sunk into its soft depths with only one eye light visible from within a barely opened socket. Normally, that drowsy, inviting warmth was a temptation in itself, but this morning Edge’s thoughts were in turmoil.

Underfell was home, whether or not the people here wanted him, they certainly needed him, a tarnished knight to fight their battles, and here he would stay, stubbornly some (everyone) said, but weren’t there times he wished to escape it, if only briefly? Traveling to the other universes for a meal or for company, a chance to go somewhere else, be someone else, not the Great and Terrible Papyrus, but Edge, who was neither great nor terrible, and somehow still appreciated for it.

It never occurred to him he could leave without even stepping through his front door and bring his adventure back with him when he returned.

“Yes,” Edge admitted. “I did."

“yeah, i liked that one, too,” Stretch rolled onto his back, stretching out his long limbs beneath the blankets and letting out a satisfied groan as joints popped, “figured you might dig in.”

“Is that why you brought it?” Edge asked, curiously, “did you wonder if I would like it because you did?” When they’d first met the others, there had been some experimenting to determine the differences not only in their worlds, but in each other, down to their taste in condiments. That had dwindled off as they’d gotten to know each other, but he wouldn’t be surprised to learn Stretch still want to test a few theories.

Instead of agreeing, Stretch pushed up on an elbow in automatic protest, “no! i just—” That burst trailed off and he sank back down to the mattress, his face twisting in complex emotions.

Edge said nothing, only waited without demanding an answer. He wasn’t particularly skilled at reading others and worse when it came to Stretch, but he was slowly learning. If he didn’t press, there was a chance Stretch would give him an honest answer rather than a pun or some other deflection. It said less about himself and more Stretch’s issues when it came to any kind of emotional intimacy, but he still found himself holding his breath, almost superstitiously afraid of frightening him off.

Finally, Stretch shrugged, a certain forced carelessness in the roll of his shoulders. “i just wanted to give you something you’d like.” Then, a little softer, like a confession, “you deserve nice things.”

Edge glanced at the paper bag still sitting on his desk. He wouldn’t be able to stay up reading every night, only ones where the restlessness refused to abate, but that happened often enough and there were plenty of books still inside, more worlds to explore and adventures to be had.

Meanwhile, Stretch had been busily shoring up his defenses while Edge was distracted. His expression was closed off, set in the lines of his normal carefree easiness as he sat up, yawning deliberately. “seriously, edgelord, it’s only a damn book, don’t read too much into it. heh. anyway, i should head home so you can go on patrol.”

He should, time was creeping into late morning. Red was probably already napping at his sentry station. There was no reason for him to lean in and press his mouth to the tempting curve at the back of Stretch’s skull where it met his spine, except for the fact that he knew Stretch was sensitive there and always shivered at the lightest touch. He did now, a quiver rattling through his bones as he ducked his head to allow better access, a little groan catching in his throat.

“or not,” Stretch sighed out. He sank willingly back to the mattress with Edge following him down. His hands settled lightly on Edge’s back, fingertips drifting delicately against the scar-hewn bones with renewed promise.

At the cusp of giving in to temptation, Edge thought briefly of Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere, their successes and mistakes, endings and the hope of new beginnings. Then he set those thoughts aside. As rich as that fantasy was, there was something to be said for reality and as he drew Stretch into his arms, Edge was content with his own.

For now.

-finis-

[walkerismychoice]

Rumor Has It (Raleigh X MC)

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: PG-13 (just a slight bit of language)

Author’s note:  This is a request from @withbeautyandrage for Day 7 of the Choices February Challenge - Gossip. Yes I realize I’m already 2 days behind, but better late than never right? Subsequently other requests are running behind as well but I promise to complete them all.

Word Count: 1679

Every morning on her walk to the recording studio, Aria makes a point to take in the sights and sounds of the city. A small town girl at heart, she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the wonder that is New York. As much as she she still feels a bit out of place among the bustling crowd of natives zooming along the sidewalks with their heads down and only their destination in mind, she hopes to never become as jaded as so many of them are.

She's gotten a later start today so she has to skip stopping for coffee. That doesn't keep her from appreciating the rich aroma wafting through the air as she passes her favorite cafe. She pauses a moment, closes her eyes, and inhales deeply. Smelling it almost as good as tasting it. Never mind, it just makes her want it more, so she picks up the pace to ensure time for her weekly, somewhat self-indulgent ritual.

“Hey, Joe!” Aria waves at the news stand owner.

His face lights up when he sees her. “How’s my favorite customer this morning?”

“Lacking caffeine, but otherwise decent. Got anything for me today?” Sure actual print media is falling out of fashion and she can get all the latest news and gossip in real time at the tip of her fingers, but there’s something about seeing herself on paper that makes it all more real. Some might think that’s vain, or just downright lame, but it’s all still new to her and she’s going to enjoy it while the novelty lasts.

“There’s a blurb about your collaboration with Avery in People and you’re mentioned in a couple of the rags.” Joe hands her the magazines.

“Thank-” Aria begins as she takes the stack only to be stopped in her tracks by the cover image facing her. "Uh, thanks Joe. Gotta run." She takes some cash out of her pocket, places it in his hand, and takes off, not evening waiting for him to offer the change she always refuses.

Once inside the busy Overnight Records lobby she plops down in a chair off to the side to collect herself. Staring at the pair on the cover and reading the accompanying headline her heart sinks once again: Reformed bad boy Raleigh Carrera and America's sweetheart Jaylen Riaz are the new “it” couple.

Aria wants to scream. She wants to tear up the magazine and chuck it across the room. But she can't afford another public meltdown spurred on by her rivalry with Jaylen. Ugh, she wasn't even trying to be anyone's rival, but their competition fueled it, and then when Jaylen got to sing Aria's song she lost it. She's spent enough time trying to ensure the public that she's not the hot-headed lunatic they saw on TV that day. Jaylen won't get the best of her again.

Just toss it in the bin, Aria's brain tries to convince her body to act responsibly, but curiosity gets the best of her. She opens up the publication to a nauseating two page spread and her stomach turns - Raleigh and Jaylen dancing too close in a club, sitting cozily in a booth, holding hands on their way out. However, none of those cause as much pain as the the one of Raleigh standing with his arm around Jaylen, an enormous smile on her face as he's whispering in her ear.

That's not all though. The worst part, the final insult to injury is Raleigh's hand down low straddling the the small of Jaylen's back and the curve of her ass, or at least that's what she assumed from experience. Throughout Aria's "relationship" with Raleigh that was the one thing, a simple intimate gesture both playful and protective in nature and hidden from view, that led Aria to believe what they had wasn't just for show. What a fool she had been.

Before Aria can listen to rational thoughts telling her that this could possibly be another publicity stunt, she's distracted by an inset with a broken apart picture of her and Raleigh.

"Rumor has it Raleigh broke Aria Campbell's heart when he left her for Jaylen?!," she can't help but read aloud, her voice escalating much more than intended. A nearby man in a suit looks over at her, and Aria takes a deep breath and vows again she's not going to fall apart. Out of patience and out of time, she throws the tabloids away, no longer interested what any of them have to say.

The click of her heels on the marble floor sounds extra loud as she stomps off in the direction of the studio. Aria’s fine, she really is. Her little thing with Raleigh was never supposed to be real, so what he’s doing now is none of her concern. Out of sight, out of mind...until he’s not.

“Fuck!” Aria blurts out, clasping her hands over her mouth as she comes to a dead stop.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, darling. Didn’t you miss me?” Raleigh stands inches away looking as smug as ever.

“What are you doing here?” Aria dodges his question with one of her own. 

“You know we are signed by the same record label....”

“But you weren’t on the schedule today,” Aria says before realizing she’s given away too much.

Raleigh smirks. “You stalking me Campbell?”

“Just an observation,” she replies coolly. “Anyway...I’m running late, so see you around.” She breezes past him without waiting for a response and doesn’t look back.

Aria’s recording session goes well - exceptionally well actually. Music has always been a safe space to channel her emotions, where she can feel without thinking too much. In fact, she’s almost forgotten she was so upset about Raleigh this morning, when she walks out the studio door to see the living, breather reminder once again.

“What, are you stalking me now, Carerra?”

“Touche.” Raleigh chuckles but then his tone becomes more somber. “I did check the schedule because I wanted to talk to you before you left. Something didn’t sit right after I saw you this morning. “Are you upset with me?”

Such a loaded question. Yes she’s mad at him even though she has no right to be, or maybe she does. Their relationship started out fake but somewhere along the way there was a shift, at least for her. But then he just let her go like she was just a contractual obligation that had been fulfilled.

“How’s Jaylen?” She deflects yet again, but she can't help getting right to the point. 

Raleigh shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Is that what this is about? Jaylen and I are just friends, if you could even call it that. You know damn well how easily the media makes assumptions and how much the label encourages it. It's more like a work thing.”

"Just like I was a work thing? Did you fuck her too?" Aria fires back, almost in disbelief over her newfound boldness.

For the first time ever, she's the one to leave him lost for words. His eyes wide before they begin to soften Raleigh takes a step forward and tries to place a hand on her shoulder but she flinches and backs up against the hallway wall.

"Aria....it's not like that, we weren't like that."

"There was never a we. Once our little stunt was done, you seemed perfectly fine to wash your hands of me."

"But I thought-" Raleigh runs a hand through his through his hair. "Look, I'm used to women throwing themselves at me. I've never had to question if someone was into me. I really thought that you genuinely liked me, and the feeling was mutual, but then you talked about how relieved you were it was over and that we weren't forced to spend time together anymore. I may not have shown it, but that hurt."

Oh my god. Aria cannot believe what an idiot she had been. Unlike Raleigh, she'd never had such confidence in relationships. She doesn't want to say she had been testing Raleigh, but that's basically what she had done. She didn't want to face rejection, so she'd thought if she played it cool, Raleigh would have an easy out if he needed it.

"And I thought since you didn't fight me on it, you didn't really want me. God, I ruined everything."

Raleigh takes another step closer, and with her back against the wall Aria now has nowhere to go, but she doesn't want to either. He brings a hand up and she lets him rest his palm against her cheek, fingers twining in her her hair.

"Well then, to be clear, I want you Aria, I always have."

Raleigh's words and the sincerity in his voice create a spark that ignites a flame inside her. And when he leans in to kiss her, lips softly brushing hers until her response lets him unleash the hunger that's been lingering, that flame sets her whole body alight, like fireworks illuminating the dark night sky.

When they finally break for air, Aria can't speak. Raleigh has literally taken her breath away.

"Convinced yet?" Raleigh asks the question he already knows the answer to, amusement in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. Aria just nods and he goes in for another kiss.

"Wait..." Aria turns her head and pushes her hands against his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be with Jaylen? Shouldn't you clear that up before anyone sees us? We wouldn't want to create any more scandalous rumors."

"But scandalous rumors make for the best publicity." Raleigh chuckles.

Aria laughs but shakes her head. "Your reputation may be bulletproof, but I don't need to add mistress to my list."

"Okay, okay. I'm texting Fiona to help handle my 'break-up' with Jaylen effectively immediately. Once the word is out, you're all mine and I don't care who sees it. Deal?"

"Deal." Aria shakes his hand as if they are entering another business deal, however this time it's anything but.

[judediangelo75]

Day Three: Birthday

Fun fact: October 17th is my actual birthday, I don’t know if anyone else gave their MC the same birthday as them 😅 but I did. I didn’t realize that it was also Professor Flitwick’s birthday until last year. 

Which I found pretty cool. If my character was a Ravenclaw (I was gonna choose between Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, that was her Hat Stall), she would’ve spent time in his office, eating cupcakes with him.

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

~1990~

Talbott bit his lip as he stared at the calendar in his dorm room.

Today was October 17th.

In previous years when he became a student at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t really bat an eye at this. 

He would normally would tell his Head of House happy birthday and spend some time in his office.

So what makes this day suddenly different?

It was Judith’s birthday as well.

His girlfriend’s birthday.

For all the years that he known her, never once did he know when was her birthday. Until their night at the greenhouse on Valentine’s Day.

He just missed her 16th birthday.

When she saw the look of sadness in his eyes, she immediately tried to console him, telling him not to worry about it.

“It’s been many years since I last cared about my birthday, Talbott. Don’t worry about it. It’s just another day to me.”

She never elaborated further, so he went to the next best source. Her dead father. 

With Penny’s help, he managed to sneak into the Hufflepuff Common Room and dormitories. Once in her room, he found the safe she showed him under her bed. Whispering the password, he was happy to find the signature shark tooth necklace the deceased man wore inside.

Touching the tooth, he stood face to face with the elder Harris.

After explaining why he was there, Kendrick looked down at the Ravenclaw youth with sad eyes.

“The year of Judith’s 9th birthday was a hard one on her, Talbott. Jamal ran away exactly two weeks afterwards. Not too long after that I contracted my heart virus and died with her in my arms. Her mother doesn’t really care for her, often forgetting her birthday entirely. That’s when she virtually stopped caring. If I could come back just one year to put a smile on my little girl’s face, I would...”

It made sense as to why his little bird didn’t celebrate it or even make it known to anyone.

Two of the people she expected to be there, to see her grow, were gone. With her brother’s disappearance, yet again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she truly didn’t give a damn about the day.

Especially this year.

He was more determined to make this year different.

He thought long and hard for the past few weeks for what he can do for her. What he could give her.

Judith wasn’t a person who expects anything. Let alone asks for anything.

He’s come to know his girlfriend well enough. 

The girl was both practical and sentimental. 

She prefers things that she knows she can use or something that has a hidden value.

He had a few ideas leading up to the day...

He just hoped that she’ll like them.

--------

Talbott was on a manhunt for his girlfriend. 

He barely saw her at breakfast and hasn’t seen her since he finished Herbology class for the day. He asked her Head of House if she seen her.

“Why, yes I have actually. She usually spends time with Professor Flitwick today. Since the two share the same birthday. And that she usually hides out from Miss Brown. I believe you can find them in the Charms classroom.” 

Thanking the older witch, he heard off to the Charms classroom. 

Standing in front of the door, Talbott took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Professor Flitwick,” he called. The short man in question was standing on top of his stack of books.

“Mr. Winger! What a lovely surprise,” his Head of House greeted with a smile.

“Happy birthday, Professor,” Talbott said with a small smile. The older wizard let out a laugh.

“Why thank you, my dear boy. To what do I owe to this visit?” Talbott blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. It looks like Judith wasn’t here...

“I was wondering have you seen your birthday twin,” he shyly asked. Professor Flitwick paused and let out another laugh.

“Ah, so Miss Harris has told you? Well, it shouldn’t surprise me, you two are dating after all,” Flitwick smirked. Talbott felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Yes... but have you seen her?” Before the man could answer, something landed on Talbott’s shoulder, nuzzling against his cheek. 

A Black Sparrowhawk. 

Talbott smiled.

“Hello, little bird,” he said softly, scratching under his girlfriend chin. The bird preened and cooed before flying on ground and transforming back into the Hufflepuff witch he came to adore.

“Happy birthday, Judith,” Talbott smiled shyly at his little girlfriend. The girl’s lips spread into a smile.

“Thank you, love,” she said. Talbott glanced at his Head of House.

“Professor, do you think I can be alone with Judith for moment?” The former Dueling Champion smiled at the young couple before him. Just a few years old, Judith was confessing her feelings towards his student. And now the two were happily together.

“Of course, Mr. Winger. Good day, Miss Harris. And happy birthday.” The young witch and wizard thanked the man as he made his way out of the room.

‘Ah, young love...’ he mused quietly to himself.

Once Professor Flitwick was gone, Judith turned to her boyfriend with an arched brow.

“Something wrong, love,” she asked. Talbott shook his head, a blush staining his cheeks.

“You know how I am with people around...” Judith took note of his hand reaching into his pocket, pulling out a neatly folded sheet of paper.

“What’s that?” Talbott swallowed, hoping to calm his nerves.

“I wrote you a poem... for your birthday...” Judith’s brows shot up to her hairline. She remembered Talbott telling her that he wrote poetry back in their third year, when they were trying to find his necklace.

He wrote something for her?

“Would you like to hear it,” Talbott asked slowly as he unfolded the piece of paper. He never read any of his poems to anyone before. 

To say that he was nervous would the biggest understatement of century.

“Yes...” Judith didn’t understand why she felt breathless, but something felt different about this. This moment felt rather intimate...

Talbott cleared his throat and began to read.

“Your name is like the sweetest honey on my lips,

You radiate with confidence with each sway of your hips...

With a single look with those mystical gold eyes, I am lost,

With the warmth of your smile, my heart slowly defrosts...

I constantly long to be by your side,

Be the one who you would confide...

Your secrets, your troubles, your beautiful heart,

Allow me to learn your mind, heart, and body like a unique piece of art...

I want to be the one who kisses away your tears,

The one who protects you from your darkest fears...

I want to be the one who holds you close,

For the all the times you desire it the most...”

Talbott can feel her eyes burning into him as he read his poem, doing his best not to blush. 

Which failed tremendously as he went on to read the next part.

"Mystical gold eyes, you have charmed my heart to its knees,

Can't you see what you do to me?

Your beautiful dark curls resemble an ancient waterfall,

The way how you look flawlessly breathtaking, no matter where the strands fall...

You possess sunshine within your beautiful smile,

Its loving warmth and brilliance make me want to bask in it for a while...

Your dark skin resembles milk chocolate: smooth, delicate and sweet,

With my undeniable sweet tooth, you might be my new favorite treat...

I desire to hear your lovely voice next to me every morning,

Feel your kisses along the planes of my face, lazily exploring...

I yearn to turn over in the early hours to listen to the melody that is your heartbeat,

Knowing I can find peace in that gentle melody and fall back fall asleep...

I wish to learn every dip and curve your body,

Whether it's to simply hold you or to worship you like you were someone godly...

I always look forward to receiving your sweet kiss,

For I believe you have the lips of an angel and can bring my soul eternal bliss...

Judith faintly wondered if her face looked as red as Talbott’s as he read this part. She raised a hand to one of her enflamed cheeks.

Never had she ever heard someone bare their feelings to her like this. She knows that Talbott is a rather private person.

She knew how he felt about her, but he shows it through more quiet gestures.

This was... wow...

“Sweet little bird,

What is this sad song I heard?

So heartfelt but heartbroken,

You feel pain that never seems to stop growing...

Heartbreak resides in your mystical gold eyes,

The same eyes of your father who now resides somewhere in the skies.

Beloved, turn those eyes to the sky,

Listen to the voices of your wise grandmother and dear father and fly high...

When you begin to feel alone,

Feel my arms around you and take comfort in my cologne.

When tears fall down your cheeks,

I’ll be there with the comfort your wounded heart seeks.

When you feel like all love is gone,

Then let my love be your new dawn.

My dear Judith, I wish to forever call you mine,

Let us create a love more addicting than the sweetest wine...

Queen of my Heart,

I await for the day where we’ll come together in matrimony and never part...

Happy birthday, my dearest beloved,

Know that while I don’t say much, that you are forever loved...”

Talbott finally finished his poem with a beet red face and slightly shaky hands. He wasn’t prepared for the full body tackle of his girlfriend, causing both of them to fall to the floor.

“Jud-MHM?!” Burgundy painted lips silenced the confused Ravenclaw. Her hands cupped his face as she straddled his hips. 

Despite the intimate position and her sudden kiss, Talbott melted into her. The embrace was slow and passionate, the two unhurried as they explored each other’s secret spots.

A hand massaging her lower back.

Another caressing the delicate skin of her neck.

One hand toying with the hair on the nape of his neck.

It’s dancing along his abdomen. 

The demand of oxygen finally made itself known and the two separated.

“I love it, thank you for sharing this with me,” she whispered, looking into those red eyes she’s come to love.

“Of course, darling. Anything for you,” he said softly, pecking her sweet lips. The girl let out a small giggle as she got off him. 

The two stood at full height, readjusting their clothes so they looked presentable. Talbott picked up the paper that fell out of his hand and handed it to her. The girl took it with a blush on her cheeks.

“I still have more planned for today,” he told her with a kiss to her temple. 

Judith narrowed her eyes at him.

“What did I tell you about my birthday,” she asked. Talbott chuckled.

“I remember what you said. But you’re not gonna stop me from trying to make it special for you,” he said. He can the locket that he intends on giving her later on in evening.

She sighed.

“Fine,” she huffed. Talbott chuckled.

“Happy birthday, little bird. I love you.” A small smile tugged on the Hufflepuff’s lips defiantly.

“I love you too, bird boy. And thank you...”

[bybibucky]

We Do It All – Everything – on Our Own

All That I Ever Was – Chapter I

Bucky Barnes x reader Series – post Captain America: The Winter Soldier (WIP)

    You are a damsel in distress, not matter how much you don’t want to be. Bucky Barnes is your knight in rusty armor, lost in his own head, trying to figure himself out. After having found each other, you go from there, accidentally fixing what shouldn’t be broken in the first place.

   – song fic based on “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol

    warnings overall: language, slow burn, angst, violence, mentions of death, injury, mentions of rape, prostitution, physical abuse

    word count: 4.3k

    author’s note: and so the journey begins. I’m hella excited, are you?

In a way, he should have seen this coming. Wandering around New York City, trying to relearn the ins and outs of the place, he was bound to run across something he wasn’t supposed to see. Usually, he was good at ignoring things that didn’t concern him, and he was by no means a vigilante of any sort, but that helpless, muffled scream that perked up his ears wasn’t anything to walk away from.

“Please.” The way just that simple word held so much fear was enough to make him grind his teeth together. Someone was in danger, helpless in the hands of a bad person, that much he knew and he also knew that, somewhere deep down, even though he didn’t want to allow himself to admit it, there was a part of him that was better. Maybe, this would take him a step further to rediscovering that person he had once been.

So, he briefly checked whether his gloves were still in place, and then walked towards the noise all the way down the alley. Every step made your whimpering that much easier to discern, his heightened senses always on high alert, and he could make out the unmistakable sound of fruitless struggling. When he saw you, he knew for sure.

“Stop fucking trying to escape.” The man, large but not muscular, had one hand tightly fisted in the fabric of your flimsy dress, one on the back of your head, pushing it against the rugged brick wall. Bucky knew from experience that it would leave a burning mark on your skin and he already wanted your attacker to feel the tenfold of that sharp pain.

Your voice was muffled against the stone when you tried to beg again. It wouldn’t go anywhere, and Bucky decided to make himself known. Taking both you and the attacker by surprise, he grabbed the latter by his collar, yanking him backward. He hadn’t even used his metal arm, but the man still lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. Weak. Bucky followed suit and you could do nothing but watch. He straddled the guy’s legs to keep him still and, this time, used both hands punch to him black and blue, using some of his hidden fury that always seemed to be there to really make it hurt. But contrary to what everyone he knew thought, he was able to stop himself before he’d commit another murder. Watching his victim for a second, making sure that he’d stay down, he looked up to see you cowered against the wall, hands cradled to your chest, wide eyes leaking tears that had to sting in the fresh cuts on your cheek. You were favoring your right foot.

He stood up, hands raised to show he wouldn’t hurt you, and waited for you to react. He’d anticipated for you to scream or run away, to tell him he’d made a mistake, but what he hadn’t seen coming was for you to just, well, collapse. Bucky was just barely fast enough to catch you from where he had stood. You were limp in his arms, helpless, and he was looking around as if the dark alley had answers, running his mind to figure out what to do with you now.

:::::

You woke up on a mattress. Not a bed, but a mattress. And that alone made you sit up way too quickly, the blood rush forcing out a hiss between your teeth. But you pushed it aside, fingers rubbing your temples, and took in your surroundings. None of the things you saw belonged to either you or your roommates. Not any of the books scattered around the tiny apartment, not the piles of clothes on the floor, some neat, some carelessly dumped there, and not the small kitchen counter with the dirty dishes in the sink. The windows were covered by thick black fabric, basking the place in darkness which was only broken by the one window that didn’t have a makeshift curtain, and this told you it was already morning. Where the fuck were you?

“You’re awake,” came a deep voice from a corner of the room and you almost jumped out of your skin. Moving your hands to cover yourself on instinct, you noticed that someone had put a sweater on you.

“You were shivering,” was all the explanation you got and you chose to be okay with that. You were still wearing your dress and there wasn’t that unmistakable feeling between your legs that you weren’t wearing any panties. So he probably hadn’t raped you.

And then the memory came back. The way Dylan had pushed you against the wall, how he had threatened to kill you, once again, how his fingers had dug into your skin. You shook your head to clear it. “Where am I?” This guy had apparently saved you from Dylan but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t dangerous himself.

“My apartment.” He slowly moved out of his corner and when you finally saw him, your first thought was that he was absolutely gorgeous. The kind of guy you used to joke about with your friends that you would let him do anything to you. Besides the fact that he could use a shave and maybe a different outfit, he was beautiful.

“I brought you here when you passed out,” he said, “I don’t know where you live.”

The more he spoke the more it became clear that he didn’t converse with strangers very often. The pauses in between his sentences he used to figure out what to say next, and his voice was deep but not loud like you were used to. He might have beaten Dylan to a pulp but, from what you knew, he hadn’t laid a harming finger on you. You nodded.

“Thank you.”

The man flinched. You didn’t know what to do with that.

He changed the subject. “Are you hungry?” he asked, “I think I have something in the fridge.” And he pointed towards the old, crammed kitchen space.

You shook your head. “No, thank you.”

“Water?” He looked weirdly hopeful for a yes and you realized he probably didn’t get a lot of guests.

You nodded and the man hurried to the small kitchen. He emerged with a bottle of water that he handed you with a gloved hand. You chose not to ask. Thanking him again, you took it and screwed off the cap. The seal was still in place so you were sure he wasn’t trying to poison you. He watched intently as you brought the bottle to your lips and, finally realizing how parched you were, gulped down half of the liquid in seconds.

“Okay?” he asked and you nodded.

Something about his careful, almost shy demeanor made you feel like he was nothing like any other man you had met. While clearly being strong – you had watched his strength in person and even all the layers he wore couldn’t hide his muscular build – it hadn’t made him cocky. It was a nice change.

“Are you in pain?” he piped up again, softly and in the same deep rumble you had sort of gotten used to already.

You wanted to shake your head once more, but now that your adrenaline had subsided, you were starting to feel the events of the night. “A little.” There was no saying what he would do with that response and you wouldn’t have thought that you’d get to watch him ball his hands to tight fists by his sides before he walked out to a room you deduced must have been the bathroom. When he came back, the small first aid kid was comically tiny in his gloved hands that held it out to you. You had no idea what to do with it.

He gestured toward the bed, silently asking for permission to sit. You scooched over a little to give him more space on the small mattress. Silently, he got to work. Opening up the plastic box, he rummaged through its contents for some disinfectant spray that he applied on a cotton swab.

“This’ll probably sting,” he warned, before he carefully began to dab the area around the cuts on your face. You winced because you couldn’t help it, it really did sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled but you shook your head.

“It’s not your fault.”

He was silent again, after you had spoken, and neither of you could deny the tension in your words. You suddenly felt the need to talk about it.

“Thank you for stepping in,” you said. He was avoiding your eyes, but you couldn’t keep yours off of him. Up close, he was even more beautiful, although his face was unreadable. The useless, almost frowning expression told you nothing except that he was probably concentrating. You didn’t know him well enough to place his behavior. But for some reason, and you found yourself scared of the answer, you weren’t scared of him. “He always threatens me,” you continued, “but this time I really thought he was going to kill me.” It was the truth. Last night had not been the first time Dylan had cornered you like this, and it hadn’t been the only time you had needed to be saved. Only the first time someone had actually intervened.

“This is going to bruise,” the man in front of you informed you, and you scoffed bitterly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

His frown deepened. “Why would anyone hurt you?”

That made you laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, “that was my pimp. I’m a prostitute.”

He was taken aback, putting down the cotton swab. He knew about prostitutes. It wasn’t some new twenty-first century invention, but he had never met one. Not that he knew of. “Oh,” he said.

“You seriously didn’t realize?”

He shook his head, and suddenly, he looked so innocent. When he had first seen you, you had been wearing nothing but a thin negligée, panties, and heels, and that in mid-November air. Now, the only difference was the lack of heels that he had probably taken off for you and the additional sweater. This man was a puzzle to you.

“Do you like what you do?” he asked then, and instantly realized what he had said. “No, sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

You smiled. “It’s no big deal,” you assured him, “I did at first. It felt so empowering. But the years went by and this guy – the one in the alley – took me under his wing and he turned out to be real asshole.”

The man nodded, clearly deeply in thought at your words, but you didn’t want the pity.

“What’s your name?” you asked to change the subject but it didn’t seem to be the right one.

His eyes widened just barely, mouth open like a fish. “I’m not sure,” he confessed, and you were about to ask what the hell that meant, when he added, somewhat unsurely, “Bucky.”

That certainly had been weird but you weren’t perfect either. “I’m Y/N,” you replied, and it felt odd to have your real name on your tongue for once. These days, you only ever introduced yourself by your stage name.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” It was a simple line to portray politeness and it felt a little forced but with good intentions nonetheless. “Does anything else hurt?”

It did. Your whole body ached, in fact, but his little first aid kit wouldn’t be able to help with that. So you shook your head.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, briefly scanning your body. “Your foot,” he said, “and I’m guessing you might have a bruised rib or two.”

You gasped just barely, suddenly found out. No one had ever been this observant.

He shrugged. “I saw the foot thing in the alley and you’re taking really shallow breaths.”

You hadn’t even noticed.

“I can take a look to make sure nothing is broken, if you want.” He said it carefully, making sure he didn’t seem like a pervert. “Your foot.”

It hadn’t been the first time you’d had to lick your own wounds but you had no medical experience, he probably knew more than you. “Sure.” You pushed the thin blanket off your legs and held out your right foot. Brows knitted in concentration, he gently ran his hands across your calf down to your toes, stopping to apply pressure at certain points, waiting for you to wince or whimper. He placed his hand on the back of your heel, the other against the ball of your foot, rotating your ankle slightly. On instinct, because that really fucking hurt, your tried to pull your leg from his grasp and he let you.

“Sprain,” he deduced, before carding through the first aid kit again. He dug out a bandage of some sort and looked at you questioningly, silently asking for permission to touch you again.

You extended your leg toward him once more, and felt something weird swell in your chest that wasn’t the pain coming from your ribs. This man respected you. You observed as he began to bind your foot starting at your toes, the stretchy fabric putting a relieving pressure against the pain.

“Too tight?” he asked and you shook your head. Bucky snapped off the band with his teeth before tugging the end under the wraps.

“Thank you.”

He gave you a curt nod, standing up. From your low vantage point, you watched as he moved around the room, gathering some books and a few shirts from the neat pile. Wordlessly, he arranged them in a tower beside the mattress, and you were confused until he carefully lifted your leg and placed it on top.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. This man was so… kind. Each movement deliberately thought through, each word chosen with care, you found yourself wondering why he was alone. It was obvious that he didn’t spend much time with other people, even though you thought he deserved to. What had happened to him?

“Would you like to take a shower?”

The question surprised you. A shower hadn’t really crossed your mind, but now that he had mentioned it, you started yearning for one.

“Only if it’s not too much,” you said and Bucky’s eye twitched.

But he walked over and stretched out his arms, offering you help. You took them gladly, your small hands almost getting lost in the large leather gloves as he pulled you to your feet. Instantly, you shifted your weight onto your good foot.

“Can you walk?”

You didn’t like the thought of him carrying you again, so you proceeded an awkward wobbling dance towards the bathroom, leaning on Bucky’s forearm for support. It must have looked ridiculous but luckily, his apartment was tiny, so it didn’t take you too long to get there. Bucky leaned you against the wall like a broomstick, briefly gesturing for you stay put, before he disappeared into the living room and reemerged with a plastic stool.

You were ready to cry at the thoughtfulness, the small gesture bigger to you than anything that had happened in your life before last night. Unbelievable, how people like this actually still existed. To you, it seemed like that generation had lived a hundred years ago.

“Clever,” you admitted, “thanks.”

Giving you a quick run-down of the shower settings, offering you everything in his supply of cleaning products, which literally only was a bar of soap, but you’d make do, he handed you a rather rugged towel that you gratefully accepted. Why he was being so nice to you, you couldn’t wrap your head around.

He left you to your own devices, then, softly closing the bathroom door behind himself. You, in turn, fumbled around with the settings on the shower until you liked the temperature enough. Eager to get under the stream, your clothes were shed in a hurry, though only as quickly as possible with your injuries. You were glad that Bucky didn’t appear to have a mirror anywhere in the apartment, meaning you didn’t have to look at yourself. The extend of the bruises, you imagined, wasn’t something you wanted on your mind. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t see.

The hot water loosened your tense muscles instantly. A blissful sigh left your lips like it had been aching to for ages, and you relaxed against the back of the chair. You had needed this desperately. You couldn’t remember the last time you had taken a hot shower. This was a luxury you didn’t feel like you deserved.

Forcing yourself to keep the whole ordeal as short possible – you didn’t want to strain your gifted resourced by any means – you went through a quick cleaning routine. The truth was, you were dreading the moment you’d have to leave this place. Yes, it was cluttered, undecorated, and frankly a little dusty, but the company was nice and you didn’t expect any respect relative to the one you were receiving now to be there once you said goodbye to Bucky. You lathered yourself up with the soap quickly, mindful of the bruises and keeping your injured foot away from the water. It was a difficult task but you didn’t want Bucky to have to patch you up again. Once was definitely too much already. The soap didn’t do a lot for your hair, but clean was clean.

After you had dried yourself off with the towel, you realized that you would have to put your old clothes back on. Or maybe you didn’t.

With a soft knock, Bucky squeezed a set of folded somethings through a tiny crack in the door. You took it, thanking him. Unfolding the garments, you discovered he had brought an arrangement of sweatpants, shirts, and boxer briefs. Grateful for not needing to wear your panties again, you chose the pair of underwear that looked the smallest, otherwise opting for a set of plain sweatpants and a sweatshirt. All of it was comically large on you, but so very comfortable. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this at ease. It was a stark difference to your work uniform.

Bare-footed, you tiptoed – ignoring the pain in your ankle – back to the rest of the apartment, finding Bucky by the sink.

Without facing you, he asked, “okay?”

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you. “I really needed that, thank you.”

He didn’t respond further, busy cleaning the dishes. Oddly enough, he still wore the gloves and that was weird enough for you to ask.

“What’s with the gloves?”

Bucky tensed barely, but you noticed. He shrugged.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it?” you asked. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

And Bucky relaxed. So it was a touchy subject. That was fine. He hadn’t pushed the topic of your profession once he’d realized you were uncomfortable with it. It was only respectful to treat him the same. Besides, it really was none of your business.

“Hungry?” he asked, this time, turning around. He had put the last plate on a folded dish towel next to the sink, letting it dry.

You were about to decline once more, but your growling stomach stole the show. Both of you breathed out a shy laugh. Most of the tension caused by the foreign nature of your relationship dissipated then, and something else, something slight and easy settled in its place.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bucky teased, though somewhat still careful that any word of his was in danger of being the wrong one. You wondered whether he had always been this way, or if someone had hurt him. He opened the fridge. “I have bread and, uh, eggs. Those should still be good.” The inside of this fridge resembled the décor in his apartment. Scarce and only the bare necessities.

“Wait,” he said, taking in your appearance, and suddenly gasped, “why are you standing?” He took one large step and was directly in front of you. “May I?” he asked, and even though you didn’t know what he was talking about, you nodded.

Bucky, then, wiped his hands on his worn jeans and sneaked them under your armpit, lifting you gently but efficiently so you were sat on the counter top. He nodded, apparently satisfied, and brought his attention to the stove to make scrambled eggs.

You watched every move. The way he broke the eggshells with a single tap against the side of the small pan, how he placed the spatula so it was exactly parallel with the edge of the stove, and how he stared down at the cooking meal, as if that would make it go faster.

He stuffed two untoasted slices of bread with the scrambled eggs before handing you the plate. Bucky didn’t have a dining table, so he stood opposite you as you both ate right there in the middle of the kitchen area, your legs dangling off the counter top. It felt strangely intimate, like you had been doing this for years, eating in a comfortable silence. To your surprise, the sandwich was quite delicious, too, given his limited resources. When you told him so, Bucky beamed a shy smile that warmed your heart.

“It’s not much, I know,” he said but you had to disagree. The gesture alone was worth more than any fancy meal you had ever eaten.

Once you were finished and Bucky had taken the empty plate from you, he spoke again. “Your phone rang while you were in the shower.” He was avoiding your eyes.

“Oh, thanks. I should probably check that.” But you were kind of stuck on the counter. “Could you, um…” You trailed off, hoping he would get what you meant.

Your idea had been for him to get your phone from the bed, but you let out a surprised shriek when Bucky sneaked his arm under your legs, the other around your back and carried you over there. Scared he would drop you, you clutched his shoulders, but he walked as if you weighed nothing.

He went down on one knee, setting you onto the mattress carefully, before he stood up. “I’ll, uh, I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, awkwardly looking around the apartment for a place where he’d be out of earshot. When you saw him glance toward the bathroom, you put an end to it.

“Wanna sit with me?” you asked, patting the space on your right.

Not hesitating, and you decided to jot that down as some sort of progress between the two of you, he pushed the scrunched-up blanket away, plopping down. You bounced slightly from the force of it, and found yourself giggling.

“Okay,” you said, “give me a sec.” One look at your phone, however, dampened your improved mood drastically. The cracked screen was littered with dozens of missed calls, hundreds of furious text messages. You were in big trouble. Sighing deeply, you gathered enough courage to call Dylan back.

“Were the fuck are you?” came his voice screaming through the speaker right after the first ring, “you have clients waiting for you! If you’re brave enough to come back, you better have your affairs in order because I am going to fucking kill you! You little bitch! I should have kicked your head in yesterday when I had the chance!” After that, you toned out his words. You’d heard them before countless of times. But still, because you really were weak like he always told you, there were tears in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall any second. What if this time, he’d be true to his word?

You’d completely forgotten about Bucky, who still sat next to you, able to hear everything Dylan yelled at the other end of the line. But he reminded you when he reached out to pull your phone from your grasp. Your breath hitched, suddenly looking at him, and from the force of the movement, a tear quickly rolled down your cheek.

“You can’t go back there,” he said, and his voice held something foreign that you couldn’t name.

You shook your head. He was right, but if there was any other way, you didn’t know it.

“He’ll hurt you again.”

You bit your lip, nodding. But if this was to be your fate, then so be it.

“Stay.”

There was a tiny gasp and it took you a second before you realized it had come from your own throat. “I couldn’t–“

“Please, don’t say no right away. Hear me out,” Bucky insisted, “I know this shitty apartment isn’t what you deserve, but I can make it better. I could get another chair or something. And I’m out most of the time anyway.” He paused. “But he hurt you. He’ll do it again and I–I can’t let that happen.”

“If I don’t go back, I won’t have any money.” This was ridiculous. You didn’t know each other and he was asking you to move in?

“Let’s make a deal,” Bucky said and he was the most energetic you’d ever seen him. Granted, he still was quiet and reserved, but he seemed genuinely determined. “You cook and maybe help me make this place livable and I let you stay and get us food and everything.”

“I can’t.” But Bucky, in a moment of bravery and probably desperation, grasped your hands.

“Y/N.” The word held everything from a plea to a promise, and something in his eyes told you he was trustworthy. So you yielded.

“Only until I can get something on my own,” you said pointedly, and Bucky nodded. Satisfied, he was back to his shy self and you wondered whether you’d get him to come out of his shell one day, whether you’d tear his walls down at some point.

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Torch - Chapter 10: June

jkr made us do this

Ao3 // FFnet

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The first days of June brought uncommonly clear skies and warm weather over Hogwarts and Harry had felt alight with happiness. The hours he used to invest into Quidditch now turned into time spent with Ginny, glorious hours of being together, of enjoying each other, of unbounded exploring of one another. The tips of his fingers tickled and an unbearingly wide grin stuck to his face every time he thought about it. It was bliss.

The first Monday of June brings with it the sunniest day of the year so far and absolutely no interest for the remaining classes the Sixth Years still had on their hands. Naturally, Harry’s jittery all throughout the day and outright buzzing by the last excruciating hour he needs to spend in the company of what feels like everybody else but Ginny, with Ron throwing him withering looks and the occasional side eye.

Which turns into a full on stink eye when class is over and Harry all but sprints out, book bag strapped around his neck. It’s fortunate it doesn’t catch on the door knob and throttles him because that would have definitely put a break on Harry’s verve to jump into Ginny’s welcoming arms and (if he can admit it) glue his face to her freckly, beautiful one.

“What took you?” Ginny grins as Harry drops next to her, short out of breath.

She doesn’t wait for Harry’s response but slants her lips over his, tugs him to her by the collar of his robes and he laughs against her mouth.

“Missed me, then?”

“Thought I might’ve combusted during Charms,” she gasps between kisses and lightly bites into his lower lip before she adds, “But shush now, let’s talk later.”

Harry eagerly nods his approval. There really isn’t a moment to spare as it miraculously happens to be just them in that particular spot by the lake, nicely hidden from prying or, even worse, brotherly eyes by the bushes they’ve been making good use of ever since May.

The sun sets, casting orange and red hues over the rippling waters, and Harry marvels at the way the light catches in her hair. He traces his hands through it, brushing it between his fingers tips, feeling its softness.

Then Ginny sucks at a sensitive spot at the base of his neck and Harry moans, brings her face back to his quickly, hands knitting once again through her hair.

Her arms circle round him and she raises on her knees, suddenly towering over him, getting closer and closer until she straddles him, robes sliding high up her legs. Harry lowers himself on his elbows, gaping at the sight of Ginny sat on top of him.

Bold as it might sound, he’s a bit used to having her wrapped around him as he kisses down her face, her neck, her chest. But her over him, oh, it’s so different and so good, Harry can’t help the moan that escapes his lips, the utter heat that envelopes him at the sight of her watching him intensely, deep brown eyes darkened, suddenly ablaze.

Ginny takes his hands and places them on her knees, presses slightly to encourage him to go further, up and up until he reaches under her skirt and brushes over her thighs, his heart beating deafeningly. She dips her head to kiss him, her hands into his hair as she lowers a bit more, presses herself into Harry. He moans again.

Harry grips her thighs and deepens the kiss, slips his tongue into her mouth and Ginny responds in earnest, her own tongue feeling his over and over again until her hips buckle and Harry’s grip turns tighter still.

He’s fairly certain she can fully feel the state of him and it’s probably what makes her press onto him harder and him slide his palms higher until they brush over the cotton of her knickers and quickly rest at her hips.

“Do that again,” Ginny sighs into his mouth and Harry obliges with trembling hands.

He moves his thumb over her skin, stopping a moment to better feel where the cotton material hugs her hips. Then, shily he follows the line of her knickers until his thumb rests on a spot that makes her whimper over him, moan against his lips. He holds still, doesn’t dare move for fear of his own body betraying him, breaking the spell.

Harry breathes hard and Ginny’s quick to catch his lower lip between her teeth, her hands grasping at his shoulders, his robes frantically. So he rolls them over and now it’s him who's pressing into her, Ginny’s legs wrapping around him, her skirt and robes bunching up to reveal what Harry’s previously felt under his fingertips.

“Ginny,” Harry groans and closes his eyes to kiss her again, one hand traveling over the back of her thigh. Her skin is soft and warm and Harry feels the need to squeeze, to feel everything.

A whirlwind of colours and emotions explodes inside his brain when her hand sneaks between them, grasping him through his robes for the very first time. His gaze turns blank, he’s stunned for a few seconds before he recovers and rolls off her in a haste.

“Alright?” Ginny gasps, her breathing uneven, chest rising fastly. Her cheeks are tinged pink and her hair’s a mess, robes still slid up enough for Harry to glimpse a patch of pink cotton underneath. He quickly looks away.

“A bit too much actually,” he says, trying on a sheepish smile, pleading with himself to block the mortified feeling that’s threatening to take over him. Harry wills himself not to shut down in front of her, that she’d made light of the situation when it happened to her in that deserted classroom a week prior, that it’s all proof of how well suited they are for each other, of how much he’s attracted to her.

Ginny, on the other hand, looks self-conscious, her eyes darting away from his face as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth - a telltale sign of being insecure, Harry’s come to notice.

“Did I move too fast? We can take it slower, if you’d like, I didn’t mean -”

“No! God, no,” Harry hurries to comfort her, drapes an arm over her shoulders as he mentally kicks himself for making her feel like she’s done something wrong when all she’d ever done to him was good and amazing and felt bloody brilliant. “Not too high on stamina, ‘s all,” he mumbles, ignoring the scorching sensation taking over his face, his ears.

“Oh,” Ginny’s eyes dart back to his and she blushes a bit before a little smile stretches on her face, getting bigger and bigger until it’s a dazzling grin, blindingly beautiful to Harry. So he kisses her, deep and meaningful, arm still around her shoulders.

The first star of the night shines over them when Harry helps her up, brushes the grass from her robes and pats down his own mess of a hair.

Their hands link as they walk silently towards the Castle, stomach rumbling with heat and hunger.

“You comfortable with all this?” Harry squeezes her hand lightly, head dipping a bit to catch the expression on her face.

She looks surprised, then laughs heartily, a little spring in her step as she replies, “I honestly thought I might be making you uncomfortable with all the kissing and touching and, you know,” Ginny pauses to collect her words, the faintest hint of embarrassment ghosting over her features, “all the other stuff we’re doing.”

“The other stuff, hmm?” Harry grins, tries his best to wink.

“Don’t be a prick,” Ginny laughs, elbowing him playfully.

“I’m not, I just honestly don’t know what you mean. I might need a more detailed explanation.”

He’s the embodiment of innocence as he looks at her with big emerald eyes, dimple forming in one cheek as Harry smiles sweetly. Immediately he yelps because Ginny’s just thrown her school bag at him and proceeded to chase him down the grounds, rightly calling him ‘a lying little tosser’, with Harry pausing in his tracks enough to inform her he takes offense at the use of ‘little’.

Their happy shrieks reverberate against the Castle walls as Ginny throws her shoes at him with the double purpose of smacking him over the head and allowing her to run faster, and Harry pivots and jumps and engaging all the Quidditch training tactics he’s ever learned to make a clean escape. Ultimately, they both burst through the ancient doors barefoot, shoes and bags forgotten, sniggering as McGonagall hurries to lay down the law.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor for walking barefoot,” Ginny huffs, amusement still dancing in her eyes.

“I think the term employed was ‘inappropriate student attire’,” Harry whispers, his lips trembling from the effort of keeping at bay the wild waves of laughter smacking on the inside of his chest.

They both burst into a loud fit of giggles when they catch each other’s eye though, doubling over even as a harried looking Hermione ushers them out of the Great Hall, maniacally hissing about losing enough house points for the day.

_____

By some miracle of good fortune, Harry finds himself with the Sixth Year Boys’ Dorm entirely to himself. Ron’s off somewhere pretending to study so he can get one on one time with Hermione, and the rest of his roommates...he’s not particularly invested in their whereabouts so long as they’re not here.

It’s not that Harry hates being around people, but it can become grating, being in the constant awareness of other humans. Never a moment to think about scratching your arse in peace. Let alone actually doing it. Or other similar private needs. Anyway.

Ginny’s off with Luna and despite his urges - namely to be around Ginny as much as humanly possible without being expelled - he knows they should probably leave each other some time to be separate. This may be his first dating relationship but he’s hyper aware of being smothering. Perhaps it’s not good how very much the thought niggles at the back of his mind, the idea that someday everyone he cares about will eventually tire of him and the trouble he brings, but it’s there nonetheless.

His musings are a bit darker than one would expect from a teen bloke left to his own devices in an empty dorm room, but Harry’s for the most part abandoned the idea that he’s normal. Much as he wants to be ‘just Harry,’ it seems every passing day, month, and year, it’s less and less likely.

Except when he’s with Ginny.

She somehow manages to see him, really see him for everything he is, and treat him like he’s normal Harry. Teasing him, laughing together, snogging him ‘til his feet go numb, and dressing him down as necessary. In both senses of the term. And if Harry’s engaging in a moment of honesty, his attraction stirs at either version.

Though it is a boring choice, Harry finds himself preparing for a late afternoon, pre-dinner nap, ditching revising and homework without a trace of regret. He’s just on the fuzzy edge of sleep when a soft knock sounds at the door.

Before he can do much beyond pushing up to his elbows and gaping in confusion, the door creaks open and the Weasley he least expects and is most excited to see slips inside.

“How’s things, Harry?”

His grin falls infinitesimally as he tries to recall whether he’s got dirty pants lying about, but Ginny seems too intent on her purpose to notice.

In a few quick strides, she’s at his bedside and for the first time since she entered the room seems to be awaiting permission. Harry ruffles his hair and scoots over a little on the mattress. “What did you and Luna get up to?”

Ginny shrugs, one finger following the brocade pattern of his coverlet. “Not much, chatted some, shared biscuits from Mum, then she had to go meet Hagrid.”

“I don’t recall Luna getting detention.”

Smiling, Ginny finally takes the plunge and settles her bum on the edge of the bed. “Nah, Hagrid just lets her follow on his nightly walk so she can look for - ” Ginny’s voice trails off as her eyes finally leave the blankets and lock with Harry’s.

A lump forms in his throat and he can’t seem to find anything to do or say. Suddenly his hands feel too big for his body and the only word in his mind is ‘please’. Or maybe Ginny.

“Sorry, I - “ she swallows and slowly her tracing finger circles toward Harry’s hand where it lies limply against his thigh, “I can’t quite remember what Luna was on the hunt for.”

Harry shakes his head and sits up further, a bit too abrupt as he nearly unseats Ginny. At the last moment his hands shoot to grab her arms and steady her. His voice is a bit strangled when he answers, “That’s alright. I, uh - Luna’ll surely fill us in.”

Somehow they’re closer now and Harry feels his heart practically pounding out of his chest while Ginny’s breaths tickle his jaw. “Right - of course.”

And then, like so many times before, that fiery, wild, hurricane that is Ginny Weasley has his mind gone haywire while her lips slant over his. They’ve still not agreed on which of them started that first kiss however many hours, days, weeks ago, but Harry won’t argue that this encounter is one hundred percent Ginny Weasley initiated. If there’s anything he’s learned over their too short time together, it’s that Harry is fully on board with an endless lifetime of Ginny and every bit of her unstoppable force of nature ways.

Now though, he’s swept up in the storm and he might have been a bit of a fumbling mess to begin with but they’ve learned together and there are certain things he’s gotten quite good with over the course of their relationship. So when Ginny looms overhead, knees on either side of his hips and tongue toying with his, he’s no longer a blubbering mess. He’s got moves now.

With a smooth twist, he executes one such maneuver, which ends with Ginny staring up at him wide eyed and cheeks flushed. “Well, look at you.”

Harry’s laugh turns to a groan against Ginny’s lips when her hips rise to meet his in a rolling motion that makes him see stars.

Their kisses become more desperate, shared breaths just as much as presses of lips. While her hands run through his hair, his slide up Ginny’s milky, freckled legs until he rucks up her skirt and those damn pink knickers stare back at him.

Except now, he’s not nervous, and when he looks into Ginny’s eyes he sees the same certainty he feels evident in her deep brown irises.

It feels like a blur, her hands on the waistband of his trousers, his fingers tugging at her knickers, and suddenly he finds his lips leaving hers and slowly mapping the curves of her chest. She sighs when he reaches the edge of pale pink cotton, allowing him to bury himself in her flowery scent, but soon becomes impatient.

A sharp tug at his hair signals she’s tired of waiting as they have and Harry’s ready too. It just feels right this time.

When her palm slips inside his pants and he shudders in her grip, his face buried against her neck so he doesn’t see the door slam open.

But he does hear it, and immediately jolts into action, raised on his elbows and blinking wildly at Ron in the doorway. Some mix of an apology and random swearing is about to leave his lips when Harry glances back down at Ginny and finds...no Ginny. Just a slightly drool-damp pillow clutched to his chest. Apparently he’s gotten quite friendly with his bed dressings this afternoon.

Bloody hell.

Regardless, he’ll need a moment to...collect himself before he addresses whatever drama Ron and Hermione have managed to drum up in the last half hour.

“Dinner, mate,” Ron says, “Rumor has it there’s those mashed potatoes with cheese and bacon. Don’t want to miss. Seamus has been a damn hog lately.”

Harry slumps against the bed and nods, hopefully concealing himself enough to avoid a horrifying conversation that would scar both parties. “Go on. I’ve got to wake up a bit. Detention’s wiped me out. If I try the stairs in my current state I’ll fall to my death.”

Ron snickers. “Snape would love that,” he grimaces, “Actually, Dean might too.”

Harry rolls his eyes and Ron continues, “I’m not particularly chuffed about anybody but - well, what right has Dean got, right? Plus you’re Harry. Clearly - “ Ron flushes and lets the thought drop. “I’ll save you some potatoes. Come down quick though. Don’t want them to get cold.”

“Right, because it’s not like we’re wizards,” Harry teases as Ron flips him off and disappears into the hallway.

Glancing down at his lap, Harry murmurs, “Well you heard him, come down quick.”

_____

Harry’s become more well acquainted with the trees on the bank of the Great Lake in the last month than his entire previous five years at Hogwarts. Sure he’s swum with the merpeople, chased some Death Eaters, and claimed a warm spot in the grass a few times. But there’s something about lying in the sun with Ginny that instantly stirs a delicious feeling of contentment like he’s never thought possible.

And lest it begin to seem that Harry’s utterly incapable of a thought that isn’t completely and entirely focused on Ginny, they’ve ended up lounging like lumps with Ron and Hermione in tow. It’s all rather homey and relaxing and Harry could probably lie here forever.

Especially since in his reclined position he can’t see Ron’s face which every so often twists into a grimace. Harry’s a bit proud of Ron, honestly. Since all of this started, he’s adjusted fairly well. The first time Harry walked into the dorm room after kissing Ginny, Ron tossed a pillow in his face with the type of force Harry longed to wrench from his best mate on the pitch, but otherwise it seems most violent impulses are under control. There have been a few snide remarks of course, but Ginny volleys back with that sass Harry really finds attractive, and soon they’re either all laughing or Harry’s too distracted by Ginny’s lips to care much.

Now, however many blissful weeks in, they’ve reached something of a detente and Ron manages to not fume when Ginny pulls Harry’s head into her lap and runs her fingers through his hair. Which is good because he could happily live in this position.

The weather is beautiful enough that even Hermione’s been tempted to leave the library, albeit with books and notes in tow, and so the foursome have claimed a spot along the water. By some unspoken agreement, Harry and Ginny carefully guided the group away from the tree where some of their more intimate explorations have taken place. Too many memories to drum up in mixed company. Although Harry’s mind is never far from them…

When Ginny’s fingertips slip past Harry’s loosened collar and tie, Harry hears Ron let out a gag, quickly followed by a low ‘oof.’

“What the hell Hermione?”

“Do be mature.”

“I’m not the one who’s feeling Harry up like he’s a - ”

Harry laughs and winks at Ginny. “While I do appreciate you protecting my honour, Ron, I promise you Ginny has assured me of only her noblest intentions.”

Ginny lets her hand rest over Harry’s bounding heart and smiles at Hermione dangerously. “Don’t think I missed those sharp moves. You could make a great Beater.”

“I keep telling her I’ll give her a few rides on my broom and it’ll be like second nature - ”

While Ginny jerks to attention like a hunting dog fixed on a scent, Harry jolts into a sitting position, “A few what on your what?”

Hermione blinks, “A few rides on his - oh. Oh, do be mature.”

It takes Ron a few extra seconds to catch on and then he flushes beetroot from his neck upward. “Oh, damn it Harry. Don’t be such a ninny.”

“‘Ninny,’ nice one Ronniekins,” Ginny teases, tossing a stick at her brother, “Pick that up from Aunt Muriel.”

“Sorry I’m not as macho as loverboy.”

Harry drags Ginny closer as the wind whips up a little off the lake while she folds her hair into a loose plait. “I’ll give you the name of my tattoo place. We can get you something nice to hide your little bald chest.”

“Yeah, like you’ve got anything exciting going on under there.”

Ginny squeezes Harry’s thigh. “Oh, I assure you he’s got plenty to be excited about.”

Even Hermione winces at that, eventually sharing a commiserating glance with Ron. Honestly, Harry would feel worse if they both didn’t have something with just as much potential to be occasionally nauseating staring them right in the face. Everyone should take relationship advice from him - pine and angst for nine or so months, then finally snog in front of a large group, preferably after some victorious event, then proceed to be gloriously happy. Harry highly recommends it.

Life, for once, feels right.

_____

“You arsehole,” Ron jabs Harry with his foot just as he is drifting asleep, ready to enjoy what would be no doubt another of his Ginny centred dreams.

“Sweet dreams to you, too, Ronnie love,” Harry grunts, rubs at his ankle. Shit, Ron’s feet are long. Perhaps if Harry pushes it any more in front of him, he’ll wake up with Ron’s foot up his arse one night.

Oh, god, what if he moans Ginny’s name in the dead of night and then he wakes up with Ron’s foot in his mouth? Who knows how much the plonker can stretch his legs.

“Zip it. What was all that about you having plenty to be excited about, that rubbish Ginny was yapping about earlier?” Ron hisses, hunched over his bed to stare directly into Harry’s bleary face.

Harry scans the room quickly to check if all their dorm mates are sound asleep and snoring. And they are, the lucky bastards.

“Why? Want a private show?”

“Oh, bugger off.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. And if we’re laying it thick, how ‘bout you giving Hermione a few rides on the broom, eh? What was that about?”

“Good night,” Ron splutters and Harry grins, pleased.

“Yeah, thought as much. Night night, Ron mate.”

_____

His pulse strums up when he reads Dumbledore’s note and quickly the image of the last moments he spent with Ginny, her mouth on his, her fingers tightly twisted in his hair as his palms roamed at her chest, her muffled pants as they kissed and touched against a Castle wall, everything runs before his eyes and his mind screams at him that it might’ve been the last time. Their last kiss, their last anything.

Harry knows he might not come back from this. Yet still he walks in silence, the rumbling noise inside his mind the only sounds he hears.

And then there’s nothing left; complete blank, intense white noise as they return to Hogwarts, battered, scarred and bloody. Nothing as he watches Dumbledore die, nothing as he looks directly into Draco’s white, horror struck face. But intense, boiling hatred as he looks into Snape’s.

Harry nearly turns into a murderer that night, he nearly tears his own heart out, spits his brains out from the pain. The thought of Ginny, the sound of her voice - the only things that keep him teetering on the edge.

He barely pretends to be present as Hermione announces her uncovering of the Prince’s mystery, a faint lurching sensation in his stomach as he listens. Harry figures he shouldn’t be surprised; after all, it seems like Snape’s linked to so many pieces of puzzle all throughout his life, destroying what he can, taking even the smallest of joys away from Harry.

He pours his anger and fury into their discussion of Snape, unafraid to let slip how much he hates him, how his mind is conjuring plans and schemes of getting him, the sooner the better.

It’s only the calming sound of Ginny’s laughter that soothes the rippling of dark waves inside his mind, the hurricane shattering his soul. She giggles when Harry makes up an excuse about Fleur being ugly and he smiles involuntarily at the sound. Then he takes her by the hand, takes her to that classroom they’ve shared before. He takes her to the last moment of blissful intimacy they’ll have together, but he’s too much of a coward to tell her that. Harry already knows it, he knows what he needs to do, but he can’t tell her that. Not yet.

Instead, he buries his face into her hair, draws in that flowery scent that’s always made him think of her, and holds her close to his heart as his eyes prickle and his mouth quivers.

She doesn’t say anything either but sits with him in silence, arms tightly bound around his middle. They’re too afraid to speak.

Her hands pull at the hem of his shirt and Harry lets her take it off, holds her as she kisses his shoulders, the bruises on his arms, the swollen patches of skin peppered on his chest.

“Ginny,” Harry sighs as her lips carefully map the remnants of what happened in that cave, and she takes a step back, gazes at him once, then lifts up her shirt to shove it away too. Her bra follows after and Harry’s heart leaps.

It’s the first time he sees her so, and his sad green eyes are hungry to take in, to remember everything; every detail, every freckle, every cluster of little dots splattered over her skin, her clavicle, her beautiful breasts.

Then she closes the distance between them to hold him tightly to her, as he holds her to him. Harry and Ginny, one heart over the other, two frightened young hearts beating against each other, love shared through skin.

They sit like that for a long time, shivering in each other’s arms but not brave enough to let go. They don’t cry, they don’t talk, just clutch at each other, fingers gripping viciously at the other’s back, silently screaming: don’t let go. Just don’t go, don’t leave, don’t leave me.

Finally, Harry draws a sharp breath in, tips her chin up and kisses her deeply, shuddering at the feel of her breasts moving slightly against his chest. Then slowly he retrieves their clothes and hands Ginny her own, gently turning her with her back to him to help her dress.

He clasps her bra and leaves a kiss on her right shoulder, pushing her long red hair to one side. Harry then slides her shirt gingerly over her head, careful with her arms, and rolls it back until it hides the little freckles peppered over the small of her back, over the rounding contours of her hips. He puts his shirt back on too.

Even if he knows that it’ll be days, months, years maybe when he’ll yearn for her touch, when he’ll curse himself for not having kissed those freckles one last time, felt her skin beneath his palms, grip her and undress her and make love to her when she offered him the chance; even if he knows that, he can’t possibly do it, he forbids himself to do it.

Because Harry also knows he could never live with himself if he did that only to leave her behind right after. He could never live with that.

Hand in hand, they walk back to the Common Room and Ginny raises on her tiptoes to kiss Harry long and deeply at the bottom of the stairs before they say good night. They’d meet again in the morning, pained and silent one next to the other at the funeral.

Harry doesn’t close his eyes that night.

_____

Harry can’t remember much of Dumbledore’s funeral besides the heartache, the pain, the voices inside his head that scream so loud, that pound at his skull in a perpetual motion like his very conscience wants to run away from him, to break away.

But then again, how could he do or feel or remember anything else? He buried his mentor today.

And once again, Harry’s on his own. He has to, he must be, he needs to keep them all safe.

His eyes drift to Ginny and his heart breaks even further. For the last couple days he tried to tell himself it will be like a bandaid; but even in his heart of hearts Harry knows that’s nothing but a terrible lie. He’s always been a terrible liar. You’re a terrible liar, Roonil, she laughed and she was right. Now she deserves the truth.

But the thought that they could’ve had so much time together, a lifetime and a day, drives him mad, makes him so angry he wants to scream, to claw at anything until his nails break and his fingers bleed. How can he possibly live her behind?

He’s giving her a better life, Harry tells himself and immediately breaks, shatters to pieces inside his mind. He’s giving her a life without him because he doesn’t have one anymore. Not anymore - Voldemort’s taken it away from him, from them, from what they could’ve been.

The talk with Ginny leaves Harry numb and wishing she’d shouted at him, slap him even, hex him maybe; he would’ve been able to deal with that, he’d had so much practice at handling anger and rejection over his life, he could’ve handled that and carried on then.

Instead, she’d been understanding and kind and hid her tears, her own heartbreak. How could Harry ever be able to carry that with him, in his heart, for the rest of his life? How could he stand knowing he’d hurt another human, the girl he loved, yes, loved, hurt her beyond words or tears?

Lucky his life won’t last much longer, then.

Dejectedly, Harry talks to Scrimgeour, hates him for once again proposing he’d be the Ministry’s stooge, talks to Ron and Hermione, negotiates with them to stay behind, to live their lives. They have full lives ahead of them, the idiots. They have lives whereas Harry doesn’t, the bloody, blithering idiots.

He stares through the window on the ride from Hogwarts but he doesn’t see a thing. He takes in no details of the scenery, of the way the sun sets behind the hills and mountains.

Harry only sees her face somewhere in the distance, broken and brave and staring back at him with sad brown eyes. Ginny...

[whiskynottea]

An interruption in the 1st law of thermodynamics.

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29

AO3

As always, thanks to my OOT sister @theministerskat, for beta-ing this story ❤️

Chapter 30. The Cricket on the Hearth

source

New addition to my “Top 10 Best Things In The World” list: Falling asleep in Jamie’s arms.

Reason: Because sleeping with the arms of the person you love wrapped around you feels like nothing else. It’s a hug that lasts for hours; it keeps you warm, safe, and secure.

I couldn’t get enough of it.

And waking up to Jamie’s voice was the best alarm clock I could ever imagine.

Hearing his whisper – though I had no idea what he’d said – mingling with the colors of my dream, trailing shapes like a soft breeze, put a huge smile on my face.

This is perfect.

I was expecting to open my eyes and find him looking at me, whispering beautiful things, the sunlight softly kissing his auburn locks, and little hearts emanating from his head. Or something similar. Heart eyes at the very least.

You know, like it is in movies.

Instead, Jamie’s arms and the feel of his chest under my cheek were the only things going according to the plan. No sweet whispers. No kisses. Not even a hoarse ‘good morning’ or the sun entering the room. Everything was dark and I just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Sassenach! Wake up!”

“Wake up?” I repeated, still half asleep,  my eyes feeling heavy.

“Aye. Grab a brush and put a little makeup.” Jamie chuckled, amused by himself. I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes, so I ignored both him and his joke and just snuggled closer into his chest, trying to remember the dream interrupted by his whisper. Jamie, however, was determined to keep me up and with a large hand on my back, he started lightly shaking me.

“What?”

“Ye have to leave, mo chridhe!”

“Why?”

“Christ! Will ye please wake up and start thinking? Ye’re in my room!”

I am in Jamie’s room.

“Yes, of course I’m in your room. I came here last night,” I murmured and wrapped an arm over his stomach. “Now let me sleep. Five more minutes.”

Five more minutes, that will lead to five more, and five more. I know how to do this.

“Claire…” This time his whisper came with a kiss on the forehead.

Jamie using my name was never a good omen.

I finally opened my eyes and kissed him on his collar bone before putting my chin right next to it.

“Are you okay?”

Jamie took a deep breath with closed eyes, and let the air leave his body, coming out in three words.

“More than okay.” He smiled, then continued, “I woke up wi’ ye in my arms, mo chridhe. Tis perfect. Even better than I thought it would be.”

“I know,” I murmured against his skin, holding him tighter.

“And I don’t want you to go, babe, I really don’t, but you have to.” He brushed a few stray curls from my face, giving me a sad smile. “They canna find us here.”

I knew he was right, and with a kiss on his chest I put a hand on the mattress to prop myself up. I was naked, but I didn’t feel the urge to hide my body as I’d seen the women do in the movies. I wasn’t embarrassed. We wanted to share our bodies, our lust, our love, to let the other know us whole. In our strongest and our weakest moments. And we had done just that. We trusted ourselves to the other, to see us safe. And pleased – more than pleased. Plus, walking around like a Greek goddess wrapped up in the sheets didn’t seem practical at all.

I was starting to scan the room in search for my clothes, when Jamie trapped my hand in his, pulling me back to him.

“Eeee!”

“One last kiss,” came his answer, breathy, with the hint of a smile. The smile grew and crashed against mine, our tongues finding each other in a matter of seconds. I almost straddled him, but realized that the longer I stayed, the more probable it was that we’d wake the whole house. With a last bite on his bottom lip, I left the bed, trying to remember where my panties were. Jamie laid there still, naked, first with a pout on his face and then with a glint in his eyes that I knew all too well.

“Will you come and help me?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, “I can’t find my bra, because apparently, you couldn’t just leave it on the bed.”

“I dinna think I had a mind for things like that at that moment.” He mumbled, getting up in search of the black lace undergarment.

“Can we turn the lights on?”

“Hell no! Are ye crazy, Sassenach?” He looked at me in the dark with, I guessed, incredulous eyes. “I’ll use my phone.”

It took us an insanely long time to find my dress and underwear. In the meantime, Jamie found his boxers tangled in the sheets on the bed and threw them back on. My panties were somewhere under the bed, so I opted for going commando back to my room. I was next to the door when Jamie stopped me again, asking for ‘one last kiss’.

“I thought the previous one was the last!” I said with a cocky smile.

“Aye, this one is the last-last.” He smiled in response and kissed me again, the pull between us too strong to ignore.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, you know,” I whispered, cupping his face when our lips parted.

Jamie nodded, and ran a hand through his locks.

“Dream of me?” He asked, somehow shy, all of the sudden.

“Will do.” I kissed him once more – the last-last-last time, I supposed – and left his room.

Walking a ridiculously small distance in a hallway at 5:30 in the morning seems like a an easy thing to do and not be caught.   

Unless you’re at Lallybroch.

The light coming from Brian Fraser’s closed door was enough to knock the breath out of me. With my panties well hidden in my fist, I swallowed hard and started walking to my room with my head down.

Please stay in your room for a few more seconds. Please, please please.

The moment I reached my door, I heard a door open from behind. I entered my room without looking back, praying that whoever it was, he hadn’t seen me.

Sassenach: Did you just open your door?

Scot: No. Shit.

Sassenach: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA My thoughts exactly.

Scot: lol Don’t worry, aye?

Sassenach: The lights in your dad’s room were on.

Scot: It’s done now. Most likely he dinna see ye. Sleep, Sassenach. We’ll find out in the morning.

Or better yet, we wouldn’t.

It took almost an hour to get rid of the adrenaline high and drift back to sleep.

--

The next morning, I walked down the stairs wishing that my uncle and Brian Fraser would be in the office again. To my relief, the only people in the living room were Jamie and Ian, watching videos on YouTube. With a quick kiss to Jamie I headed to the kitchen, wanting to drink a whole tank of water. Jenny was there, with a half-full glass in hand.

“Haggis,” she said, raising her glass as if in a toast.

“I know! I’m so thirsty!” I opened the cabinet above the sink, searching for the biggest glass.

“This is my millionth glass of water, actually,” Jenny chuckled. “I came down twice during the night because I woke up thirsty.”

I almost choked. Unable to speak, I just nodded.

“Twas quite active, in the house last night.” She continued, and I pondered whether I should look at her or keep drinking water forever. “After we went to bed, I mean.”

There was a smile in her voice that I couldn’t ignore.

“It was you?” Jenny’s raised eyebrows gave me the answer I needed, and her laugh soon confirmed it.

Just Jenny. Thank god.

“So?” Jenny looked at me, waiting for more details.

“So?” I asked, faking ignorance.

“Did ye do it?”

Typical Jenny Fraser. Right to the point.

“No,” I replied quickly, feeling my cheeks burn crimson.

Water. More water.

“Aye, twas not verra noisy, last night. Although I think I heard some strange noises…”

“Jenny!” I looked at her with wide eyes, and she laughed at my expression.

“I didna hear anything, I’m teasing ye. This house has solid walls,” she added with a wink.

“Have you and Ian?” I asked, feeling more relaxed now that I knew she was okay talking about it.

“No. Not yet, anyway.” She made a gesture with her hand, as if this was a decision she didn’t fully agree with. “I think it’ll be great,” she added with a sigh.

“I guess so…”

“I mean, the first time, wi’ the lad ye love. It’s the right thing, aye?”

“Yes,” I agreed with a smile. “It’s right. Aren’t you at all afraid?”

“Sometimes when I overthink everything, yes, I am. But then, we know what to do - more or less. We’ve done our homework,” she smiled with mischief, winking at me.

“Maybe you’ll do it first, and then tell me about it.” I raised an eyebrow and she blushed a little.

“Ah, we’ll see. Ian really wants to wait. For what, I dinna ken.” Jenny shrugged, filling her glass with water again. “Anyway, we’ve done other… stuff.”

“Yes, we’ve done other stuff too.”

Jenny rolled her eyes but smiled. “Don’t ye tell! The wee dolt I have as a brother canna take his hands off ye.”

Laughing, and with our glasses full, we walked back to the living room, where I noticed Jamie wasn’t the only ‘wee dolt’. Ian was looking at Jenny as if she held the world in her hands.

We all huddled together on the big couch, laptop on the table, and watched funny videos until Lamb and Brian came to find us extremely happy and hungry.

--

Time had a different pace at Lallybroch. It didn’t fly by, it didn’t rush. I was in search of a distraction in the afternoon when Brian Fraser proposed I go to his office and pick a book from the library. It was that or rereading, for the hundredth time, one of the Harry Potter books I’d seen in Jamie’s room. Since it was the beginning of a new year, I thought it would be better to try something new.

I’m sorry, Harry.

Brian Fraser had an impressive library, with shelves full of history books – a few of them stacked on a table, most probably by Lamb – and many about economics, management, and finance that I passed by without giving them a second glance.

This is what Jamie will read in uni.

And then, there they were. Fiction. Millions of worlds waiting to be discovered. Brian Fraser had a large collection of the classics and I found myself standing indecisive in front of the book shelves.

“A lot of these were my mom’s.” Jamie was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching me.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear you huff and not spare a second glance at the books about economics.”

“That’s for you to read.” My raised eyebrow didn’t have the effect I was expecting on him. His eyes clouded, and his gaze left my eyes to run along the burgundy carpet.

“What?” I walked to him, placing a hand on his chest and bending my head so he could see me. He laughed at my childish move and pulled me closer to him, inhaling deeply. “Tell me?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey…”

“Tis nothing, really. I just don’t see myself enjoying reading these books more than you would, Sassenach.” Jamie sighed, and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“But the distillery…”

“Aye, I ken. I have to, if I want to continue the business.”

“And do you want to?”

Jamie shrugged, and I knew that he wasn’t ready to talk about this. Having no other means to help, I pulled him closer to me, hoping that the mere presence of my body next to his would hold some power to make him feel better.

“So what did you choose to read?” he asked after a while, obviously changing subject. His gaze was on the book I’d left on Brian’s desk.

“Charles Dickens, the Christmas stories,” I said with a shrug, feeling totally predictable.

“Oh, I like The Cricket on the Hearth,” Jamie moved to pick up the book and smiled at me over his shoulder, reaching for my hand. “Even more than A Christmas Carol, actually.”

“I have to read it, then.” Standing next to him, I took the book from his hand and  was about to open it to find the story, when something on Brian’s desk caught my attention. “Jamie, what’s that?” He followed my gaze, and when he saw the object in question, he snorted. It was a body lotion, in a beautiful vase that resembled the Fraser whisky bottle.

“This is ‘Ellen’s body lotion,’” he said while I squinted, trying to read the label. “See, my ma had her own series of body lotions.”

“She did?” I asked surprised and Jamie reached for the vase to give it to me.

“Aye, she had five different ones. Like the Fraser whiskies. Like the Frasers.” I took the vase from his hand, placing a kiss on his bicep.

“Almond,” I said, inhaling deeply. “It’s so good!”

“Twas hers. Ma was almond. She always smelled like it and Da made a whisky wi’ almond notes for her. And then came the body lotion.”

“And he keeps it here to remember her?”

“I dinna think tis to remember her. He had one of these vases here from the first night after ma died. I think he keeps it here to feel her around.”

I left the lotion on the desk, feeling like an intruder, not entitled to knowing Ellen’s scent.

“I couldna understand him in the beginning. Twas pointless, she was gone and she would never come back. A stupid body lotion wouldna bring her back.” I placed a hand on his cheek bringing his eyes to me, trying to take a bit of his heartbreak away. “I understand him now, ye ken,” Jamie continued with his voice broken, the almond scent that enveloped us not enough to mend his wounds. “He missed her. And I know now, because I have ye.”

“I know, baby, I know.” With fingers intertwined in his locks, I brought his mouth to mine, tasting his tears and his pain.

“I dinna want to lose ye, ever.” He said, more tears running down his cheeks. “I’ve lost enough people already, I dinna want to lose more. I dinna want to try to remember.”

“Shhh…” I soothed, cupping his face with both hands, trying not to think of scars that salves and creams could never erase. “I’m here. You’re here. We are all alive and well, aye?”

My Scottish made him laugh, and he turned his head to kiss the soft skin on the inside of my wrist. “I just miss her.”

“I know.”

“And I wish she could’ve been here to know ye.”

“I wish that too, love.”

I buried myself in his arms, feeling them tighten around me, and I silently promised to Ellen Fraser that I would take care of him. Her red-headed lad.

My red-headed lad.

Chapter 31

[kketura]

As Hard As I Try, Part 2

A/N: 

Part 1: Here  

AO3 Link for the complete story: Here

Rey looked at the dismantled pieces of the lightsaber scattered out on the work bench before her. She’d meticulously taken it apart, piece by piece, salvaging what she could from the broken hilt. 

She’d returned to the surface of the planet, finding the abandoned mine Poe had told her about easily enough. She’d turned one of the main control rooms into a sort of living space, clearing out most of the junk and dust until she felt it was at least semi-tolerable. Then she had settled down to wait.

She glanced at the Jedi text opened next to her and frowned. She knew she could replace almost everything that had been broken, the modulation circuits, emitter matrix, and energy gates would be easy enough, but she had no way to get a new kyber crystal. The actual heart of the lightsaber had been cracked nearly in half by herself and Ben. She looked at the shattered blue crystal with dismay, picking it up and turning it over in her hand for what felt like the hundredth time.

The book said that to use a cracked crystal was highly inadvisable with the chances of destabilization extremely high. Rey didn’t know exactly what that meant but it sounded bad. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what else to do. She felt vulnerable without a weapon besides her blaster. She’d seen how well that had worked against Kylo Ren. She knew it wouldn’t help if what he’d said about the Knights of Ren ended up being true.

A rushing sound filled her ears and she clenched her fists, forcing herself not to sweep all the pieces back into her satchel.

“Is it cracked?” Ben asked, coming up to stand beside her, looking down at the kyber crystal still held in her hand.

Rey opened her fingers wider, letting it rest on her open palm. “It is. It’s ruined.”

He reached out, as if to touch it, his ungloved hand hovering over it for a brief moment before he pulled back. She looked over at him, startled to find him dressed in loser fitting dark clothes, his sleeves pushed up leaving his forearms bare. She raised her gaze, meeting his with a question in her eyes. He raised his brows, as if inviting her to ask the question, but she bit it back instead. She didn’t really want to know, and knew she shouldn’t care. She looked back at the kyber crystal in her hand and sighed.

“You need vents,” he said quietly, sitting down on the end of the long bench she sat on. She briefly wondered what he was actually sitting on wherever he actually was.

“What do you mean ‘vents’? The book says that it’s useless, that I need another crystal.”

“Do you have another crystal?” he asked.

She gritted her teeth. “You know I don’t.”

“Then you need to make do with what you have. The crack is going to make it unstable. You’ll need vents to keep it from exploding when you ignite it.”

“Like yours, you mean.”

“Yes.”

She set the crystal down on the work bench with the rest of her parts and turned to him, straddling the bench and leaning forward slightly. “Why do you use a cracked kyber crystal? You’re the Supreme Leader now. You’ve had the resources of the First Order at your fingertips for years. Why keep using something so broken?”

Something flitted across his face as he watched her. He leaned forward, mirroring her, his dark gaze boring into her own. “Because it’s mine,” he said, the intensity of his words hitting her hard. She frowned and sat back, not knowing how to respond. They stared at each other, letting the silence stretch between them.

“I can show you how to build it,” he finally said. “If the bond doesn’t rip us apart again.”

Rey let out a long, shuddering breath. “You’d do that? Help me build a weapon that I could use against you?”

“If it keeps you alive, yes. And I don’t think you’ll use it against me.” His head tilted slightly, and he slid closer on the bench causing Rey’s breath to hitch. “You’ll stand by my side.”

“Or you’ll stand at mine,” she countered, her voice sounding more breathless than she would have liked.

“Either way, we’ll stand together.” He held out his bare hand, palm up, in an odd echo of his offer on the Supremacy. She stared at it for a moment before meeting his gaze, seeing a softness in his eyes that had been too far buried the last time he had offered a hand to her.

But this time he wasn’t making an offer with a threat hidden in his other hand. It seemed to Rey that he genuinely just wanted to be closer to her in that moment and she couldn’t deny that she wanted the exact same thing.

She reached out, sliding her fingers along his until their palms rested against each other’s. She shuddered at the contact, at the heat seeping from his hand to hers, at the feel of his heart beating against her fingertips on his wrist, and the way his breath caught as his grip tightened on hers.

The vision hit her a moment later, exactly the same as before. She saw Ben stepping out of darkness and into a place of light and she knew that she was there as well, that he was moving towards her. It was so solid and clear that she couldn’t stop the sudden welling of tears in her eyes or the trembling gasp she sucked in at the sight of it.

“Rey.” The sound of his voice snapped her back to the present, and she could tell from the awed look on his face that he had seen something too.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her grip tightening roughly on his. “Don’t tell me what you saw, not yet.”

His response was to pull her closer, his big arms engulfing her in an embrace that felt so right she couldn’t contain her tears. She clutched at his shirt, pulling herself in closer till she was practically curled in his lap, her wet cheek pressed to his chest. She felt him sigh, his breath rustling her hair, before he buried his face in it, his arms tightening around her. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the feeling of being held, trying to memorize every sensation.

He took another deep breath. “Rey, tell me where you are.” She stiffened, pulling away slightly so she could look up at him with a frown, though he didn’t let her go completely. “Please… Tell me,” he said again, though there was a slight demand to his tone that set her nerves on edge.

She started to push away when he was suddenly gone. She fell back onto the bench hard without his arms supporting her any longer. Rey stared at the place where they’d both been only moments before and she didn’t even try to stop the well of tears that suddenly rolled down her face.

The Force connected them only a few times over the next week. He was as good as his word and helped walk her through the construction of her new lightsaber. Neither one of them talked about what had happened or what either of them had seen in their Force vision.

The first night of the second week of her self-imposed exile, Rey jerked roughly awake, aware that something was different in her converted living space. She’d been sleeping in one of the rooms she’d set up in the mining base, next to a huge window overlooking the salt flats. The sense of open space normally helped her sleep. She started to shift to sit up when she realized her entire back was pressed against something warm and solid.

“You’re awake,” Ben said, his voice disturbingly close.

She rolled over on her cot, shocked to see him lying next to her, his eyes glittering in the darkness. “How long have you been here?” He was wearing those loose black clothes again and she was starting to suspect that’s what he wore to sleep in.

“You mean how long have you been here? In my bed?” he asked, the hint of something on his face, gone a moment later. “I don’t know. I woke up just before you.”

“Oh,” she said, settling back down slowly, wondering why she wasn’t more disturbed to find him so close when she was so vulnerable. His helping presence over the past week had become one of her constants, something she found herself looking forward to, maybe even more than Finn’s daily visits. He soothed some part of her that nothing else did. “Well, I’m tired and I’m not getting up. This is the only comfortable place to sleep.”

“And you think I have somewhere else to go?”

“Of course you do,” she said sleepily, closing her eyes. “You’re on some fearsome star ship, surrounded by thousands of people that would gladly throw their beds at you.” When he didn’t respond she cracked her eyes back open. He had a deep frown on his face, his gaze distant. “Ben?” she said softly, drawing him back.

“It’s not that simple,” he said cryptically, his eyes slowly drifting over her face. “I’ve wanted to be in charge of my own destiny for so long, and now…”

It was Rey’s turn to frown. “You’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“You know that’s not true.” His hand lifted hesitantly, coming up to gently pluck a strand of hair from her cheek. Rey’s eyes fluttered closed as he slowly slid it behind her ear, his warm fingers lingering on her neck.

“Ben,” she said breathlessly, feeling his thumb glide across her cheek. “You chose to stay.”

“And you chose to go, but here we are.” His fingers moved down, sliding along her shoulder to ghost over the bare skin of her arm, causing her to shudder, goosebumps following his touch. “I try to tell myself that I don’t need you, but I keep ending up here. The Force is bringing us together for a reason.”

“Why?” she breathed, opening her eyes to his.

“I don’t know.”

She could feel her body waking up under his barely-there touch, responding in ways no other person had ever made her feel. She shifted slightly on her cot, not knowing if she wanted to move into him or jump up and run. Was this his intent? Was he looking at her in a way that invited more than just the familiar intimacy she had slowly grown used to experiencing with him?

“Ben, what is this?” She asked, hating the way her voice shook, the way she felt frozen, afraid to snuff out whatever new spark was rapidly growing between them, between his fingers and her skin. He froze, as if realizing abruptly what he was doing, but didn’t pull his hand away. “I don’t know,” he whispered, and for the first time she heard the shudder in his voice, almost as if he were as laced with fear as she was.

He started to pull back, but she moved forward, unwilling to let him leave just yet. She tucked herself against him, hesitantly wrapping her arm around his waist to pull him closer. She heard him let out a long, held breath, his own arm settling into the curve of her hip, his hand clenching in the blankets at her back.

“Just hold me till I fall asleep,” she said into his chest, trying to ignore the zing in her blood, repressing the confusion and longing rolling through her.

She felt him nod once.

Rey laid awake until the bond ended hours later, his presence simply vanishing next to her. She knew he didn’t sleep either.

Part 3: Here

[im-still-writing-out-of-time]

Piano Lessons

This is for the ever wonderful @ariadne1004​.Thank you for always being in my notifications. I hope you always remain there! I hope you enjoy this! 

To the newbies here, follow, reblog, like, leave a comment, get in my ask box, anything! I love everyone here! 

I don’t think there are any warnings- there’s some kissing, and a little bit of suggestive context, but nothing sexual.

PS- I’m hoping this is the end to my writer’s block. I’m getting sick of this whole ‘fuck I feel worthless because I can’t even write stories to some of my best followers’ feeling. 

PPS- The song is Lonestar’s Amazed. 

Masterlist

Piano lesson 7:00

Theodosia couldn't figure out who her soulmate was. Whoever he was, he must be really bad at piano. Every week, at least three times a week, piano lesson would show up on her arm. It had taken her four or five occasions of having it scribbled messily on her arm to actually figure out what it said. Theodosia, ever the perfectionist, was disgusted at the scribbles that covered her arms. All. The. Time.

Learn to write, she wrote, her letters looping elegantly along her arm. You write like a child.

Sorry if not all of us can write calligraphy.

Well, at least his writing was more legible when he tried.

Theo looked at her arm. Why was his writing so messy-was he a child? Was he even a he or was her soulmate a girl?

Piano lesson 5:45

Ooh, changing things up a bit.

Why not 7:00?

They didn't answer. She took the hand sanitizer from her bag and rubbed the pen off, the blue smearing down her arm.

What's your name?

Still nothing.

Your hand writing looks really good today.

Thanks. I've been working on it for you.

Wouldn't want your arms to be littered with my ugly handwriting.

Theodosia looked down at her arm in shame.

I didn't mean to be mean 

But it was.

I'm sorry.

Yeah I bet…

 I am! I'm just a perfectionist.

I didn't mean to hurt you.

There was no reply for a time. Theodosia sighed and set her pen down on the desk. She rubbed the hand sanitizer over her arm and wiped off the blue once more, along with the black lines from his pen.

French page 283 1-16 even  

Theo smiled at his forgetfulness. She looked down at the homework planner in front of her. French homework. Page 283, numbers 1-16, even. Due Monday. It was due today, next class, and he had yet to do it.

He was in her French class.

Which narrowed it down to about fifteen boys. She hastily began scribbling the answers on her arm. Good thing it was multiple choice.

Answers to French homework, she scribbled. Hurry up. It's almost time for class.

She hid her arm under the desk and prayed that no one would see her. She was a good kid; she had never cheated before. Or helped someone else cheat. It was just homework, right? It wasn't that bad. She grew anxious the more time that went by. The bell was going to ring soon. She couldn't risk being caught cheating. She was a shoo in for valedictorian. Getting caught would ruin everything.

I'm done. Thank you.

Oh thank god. She took her hand sanitizer out and cleaned her hands, her arms, everything. Almost obsessively. ‘I gotta get rid of it all. All the evidence.’

 The bell rang and everyone around her was picking up their books. She kept her movements as calm as she could, wondering if anyone knew that she just helped someone cheat. She pushed her books in her bag and walked to her next class; French.

Theo couldn't concentrate during class; not knowing that her soulmate was in the room. He was here. He had a much easier job than she did; there were only three girls in the class. Should she wait for him to find her, or should she try to figure it out?

She fidgeted in her seat, clicking her pen before she finally wrote on her arm. She had to know. She drew a small flower on her arm and watched around the room. She had the perfect seat in the back corner of the room where she could watch every one of her classmates.

You draw like a child.   

She looked down at the writing and smirked.

I guess we both have our faults, then. Huh?   

She looked around the room and watched the curly head boy in the opposite corner looking down and smiling.

I've been working on my writing, you can learn to draw.    

Theo smiled down once more. She had to be careful not to get caught by the teacher. She scribbled another terribly drawn flower on her arm and returned to her classwork.

Wanna meet up after class? Locker 729

 I'll see you there. I like your hair by the way.   

She watched as his ears turned red and his head whipped around the room.

Theo?   

You smiled at him and waved across the room, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched his eyes grow wide, his cheeks flushing, his head whip back to his classwork.

Class couldn't finish fast enough. They walked out of class together, walking side by side, silently, but not uncomfortably. Theo couldn't help but smile at the tinge of pink that moved up to the tips of Philip's ears. His hands were shaking as he reached for the combination lock on his locker. He tugged on the lock, expecting it to open and flushing a deeper red when it did not. His hands spun the lock fast, speeding past the right numbers, flushing when it wouldn't open again.

“Philip, calm down,” she whispered soothingly.

“Do you want to go on a date sometime?” He blurted out.

Theo smiled at him. “Of course. Just promise you'll stop freaking out and calm down.”

“Wait, you'll- You wanna go on a date with me?”

Theo laughed. “Of course I will. You are my soulmate after all.” She kissed his cheek gently before walking away to her own locker. She could feel the words appearing on her skin as she walked away.

Date with Theo- 7:00?

Date with Philip- 7:00.   

Philip showed up at Theo’s house wearing a light green polo shirt and dark jeans, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. Theo loved the flowers- black eyed susans had always been her favorite. Rudbeckia hirta. Plants, and flowers in general, were her main hobby.

“These are my favorite,” she smiled. “How did you know?”

Philip blushed as Theo beamed, holding the flowers gently in her hands. “They just looked like something you would like. I got them from my mom’s flower bed.”

“They're beautiful,” she said, the smile still lighting up her face. “Let me go put them in water and I'll be right back.”

She walked to the kitchen to grab a mason jar for the flowers, Aaron taking her place in the doorway. “What do you plan on doing tonight?”

“Well, sir, I planned on bringing her on a walk and then, time permitting, I'd like to teach her how to play a little bit of piano… sir.”

“And that's all?”

“That's all, Mr Burr. Maybe we could stop for food somewhere. I have money to pay with.”

They could hear Theo walking closer and Aaron stepped back smiling. “I'll see you two no later than 9:30.” He gave Theo a kiss on the cheek as she moved in to hug him. “You look beautiful, Theo. Have fun, you two.” He shook Philip's hand. “No later than 9:30. And be sure you stick to your plans, Philip.”

“Yes, sir. She'll be back before 9:30, promise.”  He grabbed Theo's hand and they walked to the car, Philip leading her to the passenger seat before jumping in the driver’s seat. “You ready to go?”

“Of course. I'm excited,” she said. She was bouncing in her seat. She had been writing to the gorgeous boy next to her for months, and they had both taken so long to figure it out. Their soulmate had been their childhood best friend. “Pip?”

He smiled at the old nickname. “Hmm?”

“Why did we ever grow apart?”

He grabbed her hand and held it in his, their hands resting gently on the center console. “I don't know Thee. It might have something to do with the fact that girls have cooties.” He smirked. “But I think we just grew apart. We got other friends, started hanging out with them more and just didn't hang out as much. But just like we grew apart, we’ll grow together. I'm not losing you again Thee.”

“I don't want you to lose me.”

Philip pulled into a hidden alcove and put the car in park. He pushed the center console out of the way and leaned over, his face closing in on Theo’s. “ I dare you to kiss me,” he whispered against her cheek.

“I dare you to get in the backseat with me,” she shot back, a smirk shining on her face. Philip’s eyes widened and his hands fumbled with the seat belt while Theo got out of the car and climbed in back. His fingers finally figured out the latch and he stumbled out of the car, tripping over his own feet. He threw the back door open and jumped inside, where Theo pushed her body at his.

Philip squeaked as her legs straddled his lap, her lips pressing against his. Her hands came up to frame his face, pulling him closer. The skirt of her dress rode up ever so slightly and Philip couldn't control his body.  

Their chests pushed against one another, their breathing synchronizing as they pulled away from the kissing to breathe. Their lips brushed against one another as their bodies shook with each breath. “God I've wanted to kiss you again for so long,” Philip whispered against Theo's lips. “It's been- what?- seven years?”

“Yeah,” Theo murmured, her cheeks tinged pink. “Almost eight. It was my tenth birthday. You were my first kiss. And now you're my first real kiss.” She leaned down, her head resting on the beating in Philip's chest. The soft heartbeats pounded against her cheek. The silence was familiar, comfortable. They sat, tangled in each other's arms, just enjoying the feeling of being held.

“We should probably go do what I told your father we were going to do,” Philip said, breaking the silence. “I think you'll enjoy it.” He leaned over and pushed the car door back open, his lips still pulsing from the fervency of their kisses. He maneuvered her easily, shuffling their bodies from the car.

“What did you tell my dad we were doing?” She questioned, receiving a smirk in return as he set her down on the uneven ground.

“I told him we were going for a walk, which we're doing now, and then, time permitting, I wanna teach you something. Or show you something. I don't know yet. Maybe stop somewhere for food. Or we can go back to my place and eat leftover pizza,” he said, wagging his eyebrows. “I know how much you love cold pepperoni pizza.”

Theo blushed slightly. “I do love cold pizza.”

Philip laughed. “I know you do. So between stop a- which is now- and stop b, we’ll make a pit stop at my house and get some pizza.”

They didn't have to walk far before they walked into a clearing. A glistening pond sat in the middle, the sun’s rays shining off the clear water. Green grasses and reeds surrounded the pond, and Philip pulled Theo right to the edge water’s edge.

“A pond?”

“Not just any pond,” he said. “Our pond.”  Philip stood behind Theo and wrapped his arms around her. Finding out they were soulmates made everything perfect. They fell into step with each other, as if they had never grown apart. “Remember when I released my goldfish here because I didn't want to take care of them anymore?” Theo bobbed her head softly before leaning back on his shoulder. “Apparently they found some sort of food source. Look at them.”

Theo's gaze followed his finger. Swirls of orange, white, and black dance just beneath the surface of the water. Little mouths bobbed up from the water to catch an insect or two in them. They had definitely grow from those little fish that swam in a tank. A big mouth emerged from the water, swallowing larger bugs. “That wasn't a goldfish,” she said surprised.

Philip chuckled. “No, I had a neighbor give me a couple of koi fish. I think they had some babies  in there somewhere.”

“How do they survive the winter, Pip?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “Fishy magic.”

“Yeah,” Theo breathed. “Magic.” She turned around and pressed her lips to Philip's cheek. “It's so peaceful here. I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, leaning into her lips.

Theo pushed him back against one of the trees surrounding them, her hands reaching for his shirt. “Stop me if you don't want this,” she said, yanking the shirt from where it laid against his jeans. Her hands roamed his body, her fingers tracing up and down the lines of his body. Her fingers fell to his waistband, her fingers confidently unbuttoning his jeans and tugging at the zipper. She smiled as she felt his erection straining at his boxers. “Do you want this?”

“Theo, I've dreamed of this,” he panted. “But are you sure you want this now? Here?”

“I just want you,” she said. “It doesn't matter when or where, just as long as it's you.”

“Let’s go back to my house,” Philip said, his voice cracking. “Or to the car, whichever.”

“Aren't your parents home?”

He shook his head, his curls bouncing around his head. “They brought the kids out for dinner. They won't be back for a while.”

Theo smiled softly as she buttoned up Philip’s jeans and fixed his shirt. No sooner had her hands left his shirt than she took off running for the car. Philip took off after her, catching up just before she made it to the car, pinning her to the hood. It was still warm from the short drive, warming up their bodies as the sun set.

“You're a tease,” he said, trailing kisses down her neck. Her spine bowed towards him as his kisses trailed to the cleavage spilling from her dress. “I think we should wait to have sex,” he murmured, still trailing kisses down her naked skin. “I love you, so much. I do, but I still think we should wait.”

“Okay,” she said. “I understand. I'll wait for you.” Her chest was heaving and Philip laid down gently, resting his head against the dip of her sternum.

“Oh thank god,” he whispered, barely audible. “I love you with all my heart. But I really want to wait.”

Theo’s fingers danced across Philip's back. “It's okay. I'm glad you told me.” She paused. “We can still go back to your house and make out though, right?”

Philip rolled off the hood, the heat starting to be too much, and laughed. “Of course,” he said, reaching out a hand to pull her up with him. “Let's go get some cold pizza.”

The ride to the Hamilton mansion was short and silent, but not uncomfortable. Nothing more than an ‘I love you’ was uttered between the two, but they didn't need any more. They were in love with each other (they always had been). Philip pulled into the driveway and turned the car off.

“We can just finish the date here if you want. I have all the supplies I need for part two.”

“I thought part two was the pizza.”

“No,” he said, walking to the trunk of his car. “Pizza is part one and a half.” He reached inside and grabbed his book bag, heaving it over his shoulder before entwining their fingers, walking her to the house. He set his bag down in the main hallway before leading her to the kitchen and pulling the pizza box off the counter.

Theo jumped up on the counter, the back of her head pressing against the cupboards and pressed her hand down on the pizza box as Philip moved to open it. “Kiss me.”

Philip smiled and moved in closer to Theo. His hazel eyes shone bright and his wild curls danced around his face. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips molding perfectly against hers. His hands pressed on top of hers before pulling them to his chest. Their teeth scraped together and Theo pulled back and laughed.

“God, it’s just like my tenth birthday!” She teased. “So what's the next part of our date?” She took her arms and wrapped them around Philip's neck, her hands clasping in the back.

“Do you want part two now? Or do you want cold pizza?”

Theo laughed again. “Jeez, Pip, do you have to point out that it's cold pizza every time you say pizza?”

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I do. I really do.” Theo watched as his cheeks stretched into a beautiful smile. “So, piano or cold pizza?”

Theo’s body perked up. “Piano?”

Philip nodded. “Piano.”

“I'm intrigued,” she said, sliding off the counter. “Piano.”

Philip grabbed her hands and pulled her through the front hallway, stopping to swipe his book bag from the floor. The music room was beautiful, the walls a calming light blue, music notes dotting the walls. A gorgeous Steinway stood glistening in the middle of the room. Philip reached into his book bag, releasing Theo’s hand.

Theo walked around the room mesmerized. “How come you've never showed me this room before?”

“I spent so much time in here as a kid, it wasn't the place I wanted to spend play time with my best friend.” Philip moved to the piano, a small folder in his hands. Theo danced around the room as Philip set himself up at the piano, laying his music out on the piano’s music stand. He took his place on the piano bench, sitting down and pulling the seat closer to the keys. He pulled the foot pedals a few times as Theo walked around the room before pulling a pen from the depths of his folder.

I love you with all my heart, Theodosia Bartow Burr

(Yes, I still remember your middle name)  

The piano’s gentle tones filled the room and Theo stopped her movements around the room, pausing as the first chord struck. “Philip?”

Every time our eyes meet

This feeling inside me

Is almost more than I can take.  

Tears filled Theo’s eyes as she listened to the song. It had always been her dream to have her soulmate sing it to her. Philip had not only learned to sing it for her, but play the piano for her as well.

Every little thing that you do,

Baby I'm amazed by you.

His fingers danced across the keys and the final chord of the song resounded through the room. The final few notes were still sounding in Theo’s ears when Philip grabbed the pen.

I'm amazed by you, Theodosia.

Theo lunged into Philip's lap, her weight pushing him to the ground, legs tangling up in the piano bench. “You remembered!” She sobbed into his arms, pressing sloppy wet kisses all over his face as she straddled his stomach. “I told you that when I was six and you remembered.”

“I remember everything about you Thee. Even your middle name.” He snickered. “Bartow.”

Theo laughed, wiping at the tears on her face. “Shut up! You know I hate it-”

“-because it's not a real middle name,” they finished together.

“I know. But it was your mother’s maiden name. I know that too. I'm telling you, Thee, I know everything about you. And I love everything about you.”

“Oh god, Pip. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Theo,” he said, laughing as Theo covered his face in kisses. “So how about that cold pizza now?”

Theo laughed and shoved his head back down on the floor. “Let's go get some cold pizza,” she said, bolting to the kitchen, her flats sliding across the hardwood floors.

Philip laughed as he pulled himself up from the floor, following Theo to the kitchen. “God, I love that girl.”

[franklyshipping]

Too Late - PART 2 ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

HANG ON TO UR HATS AND GET A BEVERAGE CUZ THIS BITCH IS LONNNNNNNNNG!!!

Patience is a virtue, make no mistake. It gives you time to plan, rationalise and come up with multiple ideas and contingecies; sometimes it can be essential. However, and I can say this with reasonable certainty, this was one of the many virtues that did not reside within Wilford Warfstache. He was seething on the couch, mind still processing the sensations he’d just endured. His shock was what kept him stationary, for just over an hour at least.

He started by sitting up, since he had to start somewhere. Then he stood. Most conveniantly, there was a full length mirror against one of the walls and Wilford decided to fix himself up. He uncrumpled his shirt and straightened his suspenders, emitted a dashing smirk as he wiggled his moustache in satisfaction. He set himself a steely expression and spoke aloud, he didn’t need to but it gave him more confidence.

‘Wilford Warfstache don’t take shit from nobody.’

He strode through the spacious apartment floor, turning at a pillar and reaching a kitchen area that was shared between all of Mark’s egos. Because of course they all lived in the same building. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of Dark relaxed in an armchair, perusing his goddamn literature. His eyes flicked to the counter where he saw Bim leaning lightly with his mandatory mug of tea.

Wilford grinned, things always were better with an audience.

‘Ahh Bimmy! Enjoying your plant water?’

Bim furrowed his eyebrows but chuckled lightly at Wilford’s phrasing, he set his mug down gently.

‘Uhm, yeah it’s good-’

‘Excellent excellent, now how would you feel about being an audience for me?’

Wilford’s ambiguous and slightly haphazard wording not only confused Bim hugely, but also peaked Dark’s attention. The latter was peering over his book with curiosity, oh but little did he know. Little did he know.

‘A-an audience for what…exactly?’

Wilford winked and grinned before taking Bim by the forearm and guiding him to the couch, as Bim sat Wilford darted to bring him his tea. Surprisingly without spilling a drop. Wilford looked at the set-up with satisfaction, since the couch was directly opposite Dark’s armchair.

‘Is the audience sitting comfortably?’

Wilford’s grin widened as Bim nodded gently, and without warning Wilford swivelled and latched a hand onto one of Dark’s arms. The owner of which looked up, a warning in his eyes. A warning that Wilford took no heed of.

‘Observe…’

Wilford yanked Dark off his chair with an intense strength that, unfortunately for him, took Dark off guard. He grunted as Wilford took his other arm and wrenched both limbs behind his back before forcing Dark face first on the carpet. Dark growled and struggled harshly.

‘WILFORD UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT!’

Wilford smiled happily, using his own strong aura to keep Dark’s at bay. This was too good an opportunity to miss, he turned to Bim and laughed aloud at the mortified and fearful expression he wore.

‘Is the audience enjoying the show ye-’

‘GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!!! I WILL RIP YOU APART!!!’

Wilford giggled as he transferred Dark’s hands under his knees so he had two hands free as he straddled Dark’s back.

‘So rude…’

Wilford reprimanded childishly.

‘W-wilford, is this really a good idea?’

Wilford turned to Bim and winked with a wide smirk, revelling in the whole situation.

'Of course it isn’t, but the thing is…’

He leant down to whisper into Dark’s ear with a sneer.

’…you don’t get to mock me, without repurcussions coming your way.’

Dark froze beneath him, and it was at that point Dark knew he’d fucked up. He should’ve known better but he let his pride get in the way, he grimaced and bit his lip when he felt two hands rest on his sides. Dark buried his face in the carpet, and couldn’t halt his growing smile as the fingers started to ever…so slowly…drag. Wilford was going to enjoy this.

'Wilf-ord ss-stohop…’

'Oh Dark. Dearest Darkipoo…I’m afraid you’re far too late.’

Dark’s chest shook with repressed laughter as his mouth forced a stupid grin to emerge as Wilford’s fingers tortured his sensitive sides with devious strokes. Wilford was taking his sweet time, wanting to draw out every single reaction that he could.

'I ask the audience to observe, I particularly draw their attention to my victim’s futile attempts to keep his composure.’

Wilford dug in with a spontaneous harshness making Dark yelp before a stream of deep cackling followed suit, Wilford glanced at Bim who was mostly shocked…but also gleeful. It’s how anyone would react to the opportunity of seeing Dark undone, Wilford grinned widely.

'Is the audience entertained so far?’

Bim giggled and nodded, but jumped at Dark’s harsh outburst.

'Ihihihi wihihihihill ahahahanihihihilahahate bohohohoth ohohohof yohohohou!!!’

Wilford started pinching the protruding ribcage before him, working atop and in between each bone as he tested their sensitivity. He was not disappointed.

'Wihihihihilfohohohohohord!! Stahahahahap thihihihihihis!!!’

'Awwww, has Darky got ticklish ribs?’

Dark snorted and felt his face reddening from the teasing as he tried to force his aura out, but Wilford was focused and determined. Said tormentor forced his hands under Dark’s arms and wiggled ruthlessly, and Dark’s laughter went to a higher pitch…he wasn’t in control now.

'FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOHOHOU!!!’

'Wait till we’re alone! God…’

Wilford smirked at Bim who was observing and enjoying his tea, it was kind of like watching an actual show. His fingers alternated between gentleness and recklessness as he forced them under Dark’s shirt to get at the sensitive skin, Dark could only try and endure. He’d never been tortured like it, his lungs were burning and his body was alight with electricity.

'Ihihihi wihihihill ehehehehend yoho-AHAHA NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!’

'Oh my gohod!’

Bim exclaimed, face aghast at Dark’s reaction. Wilford smirked as his fingers found the back of Dark’s neck and his ears. Such vulnerable, and wonderfully sensitive areas.

'Tickle tickle Dark…’

Wilford teased as he flicked and fluttered with his very fingertips, grinning as Dark shook his head rapidly amidst new giggles. Yes you heard right, giggles.

'Wihihihihilfohohohohohord yohohohohohou mohohotheheher fuhuhuhuckeheheher!!!’

Wilford cackled as he kept this particular method up, he was rather enjoying the reactions of the man beneath him.

'Is someone a lil giggly? What does the audience think?’

Even Dark flicked his eyes to Bim, and his embarrassment peaked when he remembered the other person in the room. Bim bit his lip and grinned lightly.

'I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so giggly before…’

Dark stuttered at the light tease accomodating Bim’s voice, and blushed forcefully at Wilford’s loud cackle. Wilford was surprised at Bim’s tone, but it couldn’t have helped more. Wilford examined the red hues on the grey skin with rapt joy.

'Is Darky embarrassed about being so sensitive? Awwww what a cutie!’

'Shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhuhuhup!!!’

Dark squirmed as his face continued to burn, residual giggles trickled from him as Wilford looked over Dark’s body. These reactions were certainly magnificent…but there had to be a spot that made Dark scream. Because that was what he really wanted, for Dark to scream and beg. Wilford cast his eyes to Bim, perhaps he’d have some insight?’

'Hmmm, I wonder if there’s a spot that’ll drive him crazy…any ideas Bimmy?’

Bim twisted his lips in thought as Wilford relished in Dark’s light shiver at the word 'crazy’, that gave him hope. Bim looked thoughtful for a moment before his eyes seemed to glint, and a small…mischievous smile grew on him. Wilford felt the hope within him growing.

'Ohhh I like that look, it seems our audience has an idea…’

Wilford turned Dark’s head carefully so he too could see Bim’s expression, and the pinned man felt a chill run through him. A chill that settled at the bottom of his stomach at the realisation that Wilford wouldn’t stop until he’d exploited his worst spot. Bim grinned wider and cast his eyes behind Wilford, Dark gulped.

'Why don’t you try his knees-’

'NO!!! WILFORD DON’T LISTEN TO HIM!!!’

Wilford grinned and raised a teasing eyebrow, he glanced behind him at Dark’s legs which had noticeably tensed. He reached behind him and lightly ran a single finger down the back of Dark’s left knee…and oh was he rewarded. A loud squeal ripped from Dark’s throat, bordering on a scream as his whole body jolted.

'Well well what do we have here? A hidden tickle spot…not so hidden anymore…’

Wilford spoke slow and tauntingly as he trailed two fingers down that same bundle of nerves, and Dark let his heart’s voice break forth.

'WIHIHIHILFOHOHOHORD NOHO PLEASE I’LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING, JUST DON’T DO THIS!!!’

Wilford chuckled as he withdrew his light touch, leaning down to whisper.

'Anything…?’

Dark nodded rapidly in response, and Wilford for a moment felt a spark of pity at the emotion in Dark’s eyes…but then he remembered. The smirk, and the relentlessness…and his euphoric reasoning returned. He tilted his head and smirked.

'Laugh for me Darkiplier.’

With that resolution, ten ruthless fingers went to work. Dark screamed and writhed and laughed, high-pitched and helpless he smiled like a madman.

'NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!!’

'Tickle tickle…can someone not handle all the tickly tickles? And here I thought you were tough…’

Wilford sneered, diverting from his primary focus to squeeze and pinch the backs of Dark’s thighs, making the owner snort and squeak rather adorably. Wilford didn’t make his touch too rough though, he used his fingertips to skitter and tweak to keep it torturously unbearable for Dark. Said man was kicking his legs and rocking his hips in the form of futile attempts to ease Wilford’s tickling, but as described…it was futile.

'I don’t think humping the ground is gonna help ya buddy…’

Wilford snickered which sent Bim into a light giggle fit, Dark let out a wail and his laughter sounded so desperate. The torment at his most sensitive spot, combined with the teasing and the embarrassment of being humiliated publicly. It was so much…too much. He felt tears prick as he screamed out.

'PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!’

Wilford ignored him with a devious sneer, but Bim could see the true need for relief in Dark’s visage.

'IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!’

'Okay Wilford, I think he’s had enough. Look at him…’

Wilford flicked his eyes down to Dark and grimaced a little, it looked like he was actually being consumed by his own mirth. Wilford hummed and withdrew his fingers, he stood and plopped into the armchair.

'Ugh fine, the audience is always right as they say!’

Bim opened his mouth to correct him but decided against it, he only smiled lightly and looked at Dark who had managed to sit himself up. Dark caught his breath and set his sights on Wilford, the atmosphere tense and uncertain as Dark’s aura stretched and unfurled with it’s regained freedom. But Dark only grinned, eyebrows raised at Wilford as he offered one of his hands.

'Well played Wilford…well played.’

Wilford grinned and accepted the hand, they shook and chuckled lightly as Dark fixed his jacket, Bim shook his head at the pair. Dark glanced at Wilford, his voice regained and demeanour replenished.

'It goes without saying that what happened here does not leave this room.’

'Well duh, I’m not that cruel!’

Dark sniggered before turning to Bim, an expectant expression on his face which Bim caught on to.

'Oh yeah, obviously of course.’

Bim smiled nervously as Dark narrowed his eyes, a sudden animalistic grin developed as he got to his feet slowly. Bim gulped.

'Hmmm, you just saying so isn’t enough…I need…security.’

Wilford laughed loud and raucously as Bim bolted from the room, Dark hot on his heels and Wilford closed his eyes to the sounds of yelps and distinct laughter. The mixed sounds of joy and desperation, his favourite lullaby.

okay this is fucking lonnnnnnnng, I’m sorry but also i’m not cuz i really enjoyed writing this piece of stunning shit 😂 plz tell me if you liked it and if you have requests just send em my way cuz i have nothing better to do, luv yous xx

[thekuroiookami]

I don't think it is weird at all! I enjoyed every chapter of it! Did I mention how I like your writing style? Because I do very much! Btw I have been wondering lately................... what's Midorima's laugh like? So I would like to request a scenario of Midorima's s/o trying all sorts of stuff to make him laugh!! Probably with the help of Takao (*≧艸≦)

Ah, thank you! So this ask ended with me writing the following weird story and doing a ton of research on what Midorima’s VA’s laugh is like…As a side note you can try watching this video to hear the laugh I’m referencing, it’s at around 7:25 :

And now, onto the scenario.

It all started with a bet. Miyaji threatened to assaultMidorima with a pineapple from halfway across court. Someone then said that theshooting guard in question would find the idea of anyone other than himshooting anything laughable. Naturally, someone else then said theaforementioned stoic had never laughed once in his life. Otsubo then sensiblyshut down the discussion before it got out of hand, but Takao had alreadylatched onto the idea like a drowning man to a buoy. And of course, anythingTakao knew eventually got back to you.

“500 yen says he caves in after the first feather duster.”Takao folded his arms and arched an eyebrow smugly.

“I couldn’t. It’s like taking candy from a baby.” Youtwirled a lock of hair around your finger in thought. “Shintarou has neverlaughed once in the time we’ve been together, and I’ve been with him for awhile.”

“And I’ve been with him even longer,” he shot back.“Shin-chan never-“ Takao stopped as he realized he was going confirm what youjust said. “No matter how grim he is, even Shin-chan must have a limit.”

“I’m just trying to point out that limit is somewhere reallyfar away. Like Tibet. Or Europe. I don’t think he’ll cave by Phase Three of theplan.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” After a few minutes ofintense negotiation, you shook hands with Takao, sealing a deal that bestowedthe winner with a month’s supply of strawberry milk. “Let’s go nab our targetthen.”

Lunchtime found Midorima sitting in his usual corner of theclassroom, lunchbox and chopsticks neatly lined up in preparation for his meal.You slid a quick glance at the tiny portable radio on the desk before taking aseat next to him. “Hello, Shintarou.”

Midorima’s features softened from their severe concentrationon his cellphone. “Good afternoon-“

“Shin-chan! Wait for me!” Takao straddled a chair and lookedat Midorima’s bento with wide eyes. “Whoa, that’s a really nice lunch.”

Your boyfriend sighed and gave you something close to anapologetic look. “You’re not going to get any, nanodayo.”

Takao waved the dismissal away and tore open a packet ofmelon bread. “So I was saying to ___-chan here earlier, that I certifiably makegood jokes. I make people laugh. Ask anyone. Right, Shin-chan?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Midorima primly. “That implies you havemoments of seriousness, nanodayo.”

You smirked. “See, I told you so. If anyone has ever laughedat your jokes, it’s probably out of pity.”

Takao narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Fine. Tell you what.If I make Shin-chan here laugh by the end of the day, you have to take thatback.”

You tutted pityingly. “Fine, if you want to commit socialsuicide, I won’t stop you.”

Midorima sighed and tucked into his lunch. “Leave me out ofit, please.”

You both ignored him and shook on it. Takao rolled up hissleeves and cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s see. Shin-chan. What do you call…analligator in a vest?”

Midorima gave Takao a look that said he couldn’t care lessand went back to chewing on a carrot stick. The point guard ploughed on withhis usual enthusiasm. “An investigator!”

You scrunched your nose. “That was terrible, Takao.”

“Then I’ll try another one. Why are pirates called pirates?”

You tilted your head in thought. Midorima exhaled slowly andcontinued ignoring Takao. “I don’t know,” you said.

Takao grinned cheerfully. “Because they arrrrr.”

You had to purse your lips to keep from laughing because itwas utterly ridiculous, but your boyfriend merely frowned and carried on asusual. You decided to chip in. “Wait, I have one. This one is good. Did youhear about the hairdresser?”

They both blinked at you, confused. “She dyed,” you saidsolemnly. Takao dissolved into helpless laughter, while Midorima rolled hiseyes.

“Okay, if you’re going to play it that way, then I’m uppingthe ante.” Takao leaned forward with anticipation. “Don’t blame me when thequips get a little…risqué. So. Why did the traffic light turn red?”

You saw Midorima look at Takao curiously from the corner ofyour eye. Maybe this was actually going somewhere. You shrugged in question tomake the other boy reply.

“Because it’s embarrassing to change in public!” You andMidorima both grimaced in tandem.

Takao was prevented from saying anything when the bell rangshrilly. “Whoops, out of time. We’ll do this after school, Shin-chan.” Youcould swear you heard Midorima mutter a brief prayer as you left. He didn’tlook any happier after practice, head bowed with weight of bearing Takao as heapproached the gates. You took his hand and waited for Takao to launch thesecond phase of the scheme.

He didn’t disappoint. “So Shin-chan, are you immune toknock-knock jokes? Or should I try terrible pick-up lines instead?”

Midorima barely restrained himself, gripping the radio sohard you thought it would crack. “Silence, Takao. I would like you to try thatinstead.”

You leaned back to look at your cousin. “Takao, you knowpick-up lines? Tell me some.”

Shutoku’s ace gave you a look of horrified betrayal, but itwas too late. “Hmm. Okay. There’s a major sale in my bedroom right now. Clothesare 100% off!”

You thumped his back sympathetically as Midorima choked andspluttered. “Takao! What- How-“

“I have more! This one’s a classic. Kiss me if I’m wrong,but aren’t dinosaurs not extinct?” Takao looked very proud of himself. Midorimalooked positively green, which made for an interesting effect with his hair.

You nodded in approval. “Not bad. I heard one the other day,what was it? Ah! What’s in a guy’s pants that a girl doesn’t have?”

They both froze outside Midorima’s palatial house and staredat you. Takao’s eyes were wide and seemed like they were asking you whether youreally wanted to go there. Midorima looked like you had just announced youliked kicking small children for fun.

You decided to put them out of their misery. “It’s pockets.Calm down. What were you two thinking of?”

Takao hacked out an ugly cough. Midorima thawed enough fromhis chilled state to unlock the door. “Well,” snickered the point guard, “thatwas unexpected. Shall we decamp at Shin-chan’s house and get some homeworkdone?”

“You cannot invite yourself over, nanodayo,” Midorimasnapped. “You are capable of doing your work without my help.”

You hid a smile and slowly inched closer. “Shintarou,” yousaid quietly, “just this once, give in to Takao? I could use some help too.”You tilted your head and looked at him with limpid eyes.

He didn’t last long. “Very well,” he grumbled. “You can stayfor a short while. But no more of those inappropriate statements, nanodayo.”

You silently fist-bumped Takao and followed Midorima to hisroom, waving at his sister on the way. This part of the plan was going to takesome more subtlety than before, so you had to wait a while before making anymoves. You sidled closer when Midorima was occupied with a question,positioning yourself just right. Takao was nodding intently, also slowlyinching nearer.

“…and then you substitute the value of x here to get thesolution,” Midorima finished, pushing up his glasses.

“Mhmm. So, Shin-chan, I have one more question.” You tensed,sensing an opening.

Midorima glanced at him with an expression of forbearance. “Whatis it?”

“How ticklish are you?”

“What does that have to do with-“ Midorima huffed as you andTakao tackled him to the bed. Before he could protest, the two of you put in aconsiderable amount of energy finding sensitive spots. He flinched when yourfingers brushed over his stomach.

“Aha, Shintarou, are you ticklish here?” You wiggled yourfingers over his abs, delighted when his face turned pink. “That’s kind ofcute.”

“Stop- this is not acceptable, I- WHERE ARE YOU TOUCHING,TAKAO?”

Takao raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoops,my bad. But sheesh, anyone else would have caved by now. Is it not in your DNAto laugh, Shin-chan?”

Midorima sat up, hair in disarray and glasses askew. “Thatwould imply there was something humorous about the situation,” he gritted out, “whichis not the case.” He shot you a look of pure murder. “Why are you encouraging him,nanodayo?”

You petted his hair back into place. “Sorry, I couldn’tresist the idea of tickling you. I’d never done it before.” You kissed hischeek in apology, and he turned red again.

Takao looked up as the door opened and Midorima’s little sisterwalked in. She marched forward with a determined expression and a textbook infront of her face. “Nii-san, I don’t get this. Help me.” She scowled when Takaoruffled her hair affectionately.

Midorima adjusted his glasses and peered at the book. “Ah,this is…” You exchanged a glance with Takao while he was occupied. Your cousinshrugged in defeat and sighed. You pursed your lips and gave him an “I told youso” look.

Takao went back to looking the younger girl’s textbook. “Ah,have you heard what the one about the neutron in the bar?”

She gave him a puzzled look. He grinned unrepentantly. “A neutronwalks into a bar and asks how much it is for a drink. The bartender says, “Foryou, no charge.””

The little girl stared at him until realization dawned. “Ohhh,I get it now.”

Your head whipped around at a choked sound. Midorima’s facewas half-hidden by his hand, and he seemed to be hunched over. Your eyesnarrowed with suspicion. “Hey Takao, you know why I don’t trust atoms?”

Takao was watching Midorima with hawk-like concentration. Hesmirked. “No idea, ___-chan.”

“Because they make up everything.” You almost pumped a fistin victory as Midorima bent over even further, shoulders shaking.

Takao looked like a predator about to corner its prey. “I’dhave told you more chemistry puns, but I didn’t think they’d get a reaction.”

The both of you sat back in amazement at the sound ofMidorima’s helpless laugh. It was restrained, like everything else about him,but so out of character that it was equivalent of someone else dancing barefootin the streets. His laugh was warm and rich, dappled with melodic timbre like hueson polished wood. He tried to muffle a surprisingly boyish chuckle, amusementquirking up the corner of his mouth. You wanted to trap the sound in a musicbox and play it over and over to keep the feeling of shimmering joy.

“Shin-chan,” Takao breathed in wonder, “you’re such a nerd.I should have known.”

You sort of agreed, but at the same time you wanted to flingTakao out of a window when Midorima stopped laughing and straightened with ablush. “Nonsense, Takao. Go back to your work or go home, nanodayo.”

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s stop, Takao. It’s like thetime two blood cells fell in love. It’s all in vein.”

Midorima’s eyes widened a split second before he made astrangled noise and started laughing again, gasping for air. You shot an archlook at Takao.  “I win.”

Which is how you ended up with free drinks for a month.