#or I haven’t truly been prepared to fly the last two times I did it….

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

I’ve almost been flying to much…

[theemporium]

[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

.

It happened in Amsterdam. 

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained. 

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long. 

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation. 

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting. 

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?” 

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car. 

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully. 

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life. 

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.” 

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie. 

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window. 

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in. 

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside. 

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise. 

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted. 

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember. 

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place. 

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room. 

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected. 

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation. 

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas. 

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned. 

Oscar raised his brows. 

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more. 

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement. 

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone. 

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress. 

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage. 

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.” 

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him. 

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was. 

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted. 

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you. 

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.” 

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response. 

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation. 

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop. 

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed. 

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits. 

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat. 

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive. 

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them. 

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.” 

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you. 

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?” 

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.” 

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.” 

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder. 

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke. 

“Fuck!” 

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints. 

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips. 

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs. 

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come. 

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him. 

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him. 

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him. 

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock. 

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen. 

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?” 

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying. 

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?” 

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know. 

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?” 

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers. 

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made. 

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room. 

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive. 

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both. 

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended. 

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed. 

.

[enthusiasticharry]

Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang. 

masterlist    |   please speak to me about LTC here! 

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year. 

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed. 

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain. 

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once. 

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin. 

That all changed the second you walked into the party. 

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with. 

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now. 

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!” 

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out. 

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone. 

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.” 

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add. 

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?” 

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him. 

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.” 

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.” 

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.” 

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.” 

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.” 

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.” 

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself. 

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why. 

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.” 

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about. 

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?” 

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.” 

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?” 

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you. 

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?” 

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!” 

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you. 

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.” 

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.” 

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether. 

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better. 

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages. 

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?” 

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly. 

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.” 

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t. 

“What would you say is your favourite?” 

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.” 

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.” 

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?” 

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.” 

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.” 

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry. 

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.” 

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.” 

“So you decided to do it anyway?” 

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.” 

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.” 

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face. 

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these. 

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story. 

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about. 

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces. 

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken. 

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN? 

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more. 

Harry: I know you’re reading this. 

Harry: Your read receipts are on. 

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message: 

YN: Can I help you? 

His reply comes in a few seconds later. 

Harry: Are you free? 

YN: Why? 

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time. 

YN: Why should I? 

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will. 

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress. 

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it. 

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much. 

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did. 

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind. 

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there. 

They always used to do that. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.” 

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together. 

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?” 

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers. 

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.” 

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.” 

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.” 

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.��

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.” 

He drops his head, “I know.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?” 

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?” 

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.” 

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.” 

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours. 

“I have too.” 

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom. 

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to. 

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting. 

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?” 

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?” 

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.” 

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say. 

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.” 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.” 

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.” 

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything. 

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?” 

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.” 

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice. 

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top. 

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.” 

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye. 

“I’ve missed you so much, H.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” 

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so. 

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.” 

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.” 

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.” 

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin. 

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips.  immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible. 

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you. 

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?” 

“Go ahead, baby.” 

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is. 

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.” 

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.” 

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen. 

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together. 

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.” 

“Always, baby.” 

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock. 

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.” 

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it. 

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.” 

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there. 

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.” 

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before. 

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.” 

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.” 

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.” 

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.” 

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin. 

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.” 

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. 

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.” 

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to. 

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs. 

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop. 

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.” 

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient. 

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.” 

“Is that where you want it?” 

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.” 

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom. 

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again. 

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.” 

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions. 

“Harry!” 

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed. 

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about. 

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.” 

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?” 

“Don’t tease.” 

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?” 

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come. 

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again. 

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.” 

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also. 

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.” 

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs. 

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks. 

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.” 

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it. 

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker. 

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath. 

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.” 

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?” 

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.” 

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times. 

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.” 

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.” 

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm. 

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear. 

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.” 

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth. 

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?” 

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.” 

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace. 

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” 

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.” 

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way. 

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so. 

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose. 

You smile, “Hi.” 

“Hi, love.” 

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?” 

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.” 

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.” 

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so. 

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right. 

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again. 

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life. 

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived. 

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey. 

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them. 

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list. 

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you. 

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.” 

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.” 

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game. 

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at. 

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.  

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer. 

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face. 

“What was that for?” 

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?” 

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?” 

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was. 

“If you want me to be. I want to be.” 

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.” 

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.” 

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.” 

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.” 

[floraltypes]

Old Beginning Pt. 2

pairings - aaron hotchner x reader, jethro gibbs x reader

chapters - one 

summary - the news of a dinner party arrises, but there are some little challenges before the actually night

wc - 3k

an - sorry this took awhile, my summer is over and my writing schedule will be a little wonky now. i’m taking a break from answering requests, so I apologize if I haven’t answered yours, but i eventually will

Penelope and you both looked back at Aaron, taken back by his repeating of the word ‘boyfriend’. You didn’t plan on telling people so soon, considering he was your boss from your old line of work.

“I want to know everything about him, you have to invite him!” Penelope quickly went back into her loud chatting, attracting other faces at her comment. “I also may have mentioned to some of the team that you do have a boyfriend, it just slipped! You know I can’t keep secrets!”

“It’s okay, Pene,” You smiled softly. “I can’t invite him though, you know, since I’m not the one holding the dinner event.”

“You can invite your partner, everyone else can as well, considering it is a catch up,” Dave walked over, a cup of coffee in his own hand as he used the other to scratch at his stubble. “I’ll even invite the woman I’ve been seeing. Feel free to all bring a plus one, I have enough room and everyone deserves a taste of my Italian dishes, will change their lives.”

“Thank you, Rossi, but I simply can’t. It’s so soon, and he’s such a busy man,” You laughed, waving your hand. “It was a kind gesture though.”

“L/n, don’t tell us you’re embarrassed to show your new boyfriend to us?” Derek walked back over, poking your shoulder. “Penelope told all of us down here, just wanted to wait and see when you would tell us.”

“I’m not embarrassed, that’s absurd. He’s truly busy.”

“Invite him, I’ll make sure Will comes and hire a babysitter for Henry, so that we can truly have a adult night,” JJ chuckled. “Everyone is bringing a date, so it would be odd if you didn’t.”

“Actually, I don’t have a partner at the moment due to how invested I am in my studies and the factors of that many young woman my age only focus on the factor of conventional attractiveness rather then the complexity of brains and deep-”

“Don’t worry, Spencer, if you don’t have a date, then I’ll just bring two,” Emily joked. “You don’t need a date, I’m not bringing one either, but Y/n is for sure.”

“I’ll be like the tw-”

“You are dating someone, we aren’t, so you’ll bring that someone. Come on, L/n,” Emily continued on, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. “I’ll walk you out,” She turned back to wink at her coworkers, leading you to the elevator and soon the parking lot.

“Aaron,” Rossi looked towards his friend, a man who had his glare fixated on your exiting figure. “Will you bring Beth, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, I suppose I will,” He answered, retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, pulling up her contact picture, thumb hovering over the call button. “Let’s finish up this work, so we call all get home.” He shoved it back in his pocket, commanding everyone else while moving back up the stairs to his office.

Meanwhile, you were outside of your car, looking at Emily still was right by your side.

“Bring your boyfriend,” She commented, watching as you fished for your keys and unlocked your car. “I want to meet him, I haven’t really talked to you in a long time.”

“We’re both so busy. Him as well.”

“Seriously, Y/n, I’m not gonna ease up on you. I’ve noticed the new tint in your eye, new considering the last time it was severely dulled. It’s amazing to see your real smile again, you closer to your old self despite the past losses. He really has helped you, so I want to meet the man who helped my dear friend so much.”

You contemplated her kind words, getting down to the point that everyone probably was happy to see you again, yourself physically and mentally.

“I’ll call him, see if he can come. Can’t promise anything, his work is very important to him, so if it needs him he’s there.”

Emily smiled widely, leaning over to kiss your cheek before you moved to open the front door and start your car.

“Great, I’m actually bringing someone. Poor Spencer might be the only one.”

“Aaron is as well?”

“Hotch, yeah,” She laughed. “Meet her at some track meet he had, Jack really likes her.”

“That’s good, I’ll see you soon then,” You smiled, shutting the door as Emily watched you back out, waving a small goodbye.

Leaving the facility, while at a stop light, you found your flip phone, finding the contact of Jethro and quickly dialing the number.

“Gibbs,” He answered.

“Hey, are you on a case?”

“No, are you driving?”

“Yes, safely. What are you doing? Building a boat,” You chuckled, imagining him in the basement with the tool and sweaty shirt.

“Yeah. Did you meet up with your old team today?”

“Mhm, all surprised to see me today. It was humorous in a sense. But, Rossi invited me and everyone to a dinner, telling us to bring a partner.”

“Who are you planning on bringing?”

“You.”

“So, we’re being more public with our relationship?”

“Just with the old team, my old team, they don’t have contact with anyone apart of NCIS, or at least not personal only professional.”

“I thought you were going to come and see me, instead of making me drive,” You could almost sense his smile on the other line, a mocking one.

Gibbs would obviously accept the offer, the man truly holding a strong affection for you, a soft spot personally for you, so he would agree to drive the hour or two.

But just because he would, it doesn’t mean he didn’t have to mess around a bit, act like he wouldn’t.

“I know, but then you can see my new apartment. And after this weekend, who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again. Both of our jobs involved sporadic cases that start and end at no specific time, hard to plan around. And, everyone is pressuring me to meet you.”

“I’m already popular, huh?”

“I suppose,” You huffed, rubbing your temple, exhaustion starting to take over you, wanting to get some rest, a calming bath to combat earlier feelings that seemed as if they were creeping up once again.

“I’ll come, don’t worry. Get home safe, call me when you have the address and date.”

“Okay, bye.” You hung up, tossing the phone onto the empty seat as you continued to drive, playing the music from the CD already inserted in your car.

Time leading up to the dinner seemed to fly by, especially considering that it wasn’t much time and you weren’t having to work. You decided to take the free time to get fully settled in, figure out your nerves, make a phone call to your therapist, and even read. Trying to get prepared for all the days that are to come.

Your hair was now being changed from its normal du to a new one, fancier in a sense. Applying a nice coat of makeup, new lip color, trying a new pallet and the old eyelash curler that hasn’t been used in a while, you finished ‘upgrading’ your face. A outfit was simple, considering you didn’t have many fancy ones, so with not much to choose, it was a quick decision.

Sliding that on and fixing the straps to be a bit tighter, messing with the bra to fit correctly, and pulling it down a bit, you grabbed your go to purse, shoving needed materials a into it as you moved to the kitchen.

Within the kitchen, there was a certain door within the wall of the pantry with a password. Quickly typing in the combination the door swung open, choosing between a small but handy knife, you put in the pocket of your bag.

You weren’t too worried about dangers at the dinner, but with years of catching/fighting murders, specific people after you, and even very powerful assassins, you carried certain weapons for safety.

Hearing the sturdy knock of someone’s knuckles on your front door, you rushed to shut the the secret door in the pantry, heading to your front door where someone was waiting.

A quick peak through the hole, your eyes widened in surprise and opened the door, allowing the man to walk in.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, till uh, later tonight,” You mentioned, looking him up and down to see him more dressed up. “Are you not able to attend anymore?”

“No, I’m still going,” Hotch denied, sliding off his shoes and following you to the couch. “I just wanted to chat before than, a chance for just the two of us.”

“Is something wrong?” You walked over to your teapot, filling it with water, and placing it on your stove, heating up the water. “This is very unexpected.”

“Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you, see the apartment, hear what’s new with you.”

“Things,” You shrugged. “Obviously I’ve had a new job experience, similar in ways and also not. Grew closer with a new group of teammates, people, lost a few. Yeah, lost a few,” You repeated, remembering Jenny Shepard, even Kate, both amazing women, who did amazing things.

“That’s always hard, I guess my most recent loss was Haley,” Aaron hummed, soon the kettle making a high pitched noise, you rushing to take it off and grab some tea bags.

“She was also a amazing woman. Wonderful mother, cared so much for that little boy.”

“She really was.”

“Did you come to chat about her, it’s been a while since we had. Last time we really talked was five months after she passed, after the funeral.”

“It really has been that long?” Aaron questioned, taking the tea that you time handed him. “But it’s not the reason I came. I should have made more of a effort to keep in touch, after your transfer, after your loss.”

“You stayed with me for three months, allowing to lose some time with your son so you could change my dirty sheets and pick up all my snotty tissues,” You laughed, sitting down across from him with your own cup. “You had to get back to your family, make up for loss time.”

“You still helped me with my divorce during that time, and I still saw Jack,” He reminded you.

“I could’ve moved in with my father, but you allowed me not to do that.”

“Your father is a good man, but might not be the best to live with,” He laughed, a deep chuckle, something you didn’t see much. “You look nice.”

“Now you just notice,” You chuckle, taking another sip. “Thank you, you look nice as well. I was actually just going to call Jethro and tell him to meet me there, a bit of a drive and he isn’t happy about having to find a new team,” You spoke freely, feeling comfortable with the old friend, one you used to spill everything to years ago, him ranting to you too.

“Jethro? He has his own team? Sounds like a boss of some type.”

“Uh, technically. It’s complicated. I need to get going, to make it to the dinner on time and, finish, um, cleaning up my room before leaving.”

“I could take you there.”

“No thanks, I’ll see you there, bye.” You helped guide him to the door, a curt wave before he exited and shut it, locking it in a rush and moving back to the dining room table to clean the mugs.

You didn’t want to tell him all that, always insecure due to Gibbs being the prior boss of you and how people looked at that. Rumors were always spread about your and Aaron’s relationship, mostly about it being romantic.

Joining the team, you two easily hit it off due to your personalities. Always being filled with determination and stubbornness, refusing to give up till everything was done and right, even with files. Eventually you joined together, talked, spent most days with each other due to cases, and truly gained a very close friendship.

When rumors were getting around, glares were thrown your way, comments, left out by members who weren’t your immediate teams. People thought you were the cause of Haley and Aaron’s divorce, somehow word got around quickly, drama always does.

It was frustrating, already dealing with many different things at home, and even being in a relationship, it put so much unneeded stress and anxiety onto you.

So, getting into a relationship with Gibbs was a very reluctant thing on your part, he expressed his feelings first, but it was hard to accept them, despite the nerves he faced to do it.

Locking up the apartment, having all of your items with you, you made your way out the door and too your car, starting the drive to David’s house.

Upon arriving, you could hear light chatter in the home, lights on, and soothing music playing in the background. It sounded like everyone was having their fun, you couldn’t make out all the shadows of everyone indoors, just waiting outside for Jethro to arrive.

“Y/n?” You turned around at the sound of his voice, keys jingling in his hands as he walked up to you with a sly smile, shoving them in his pockets to place his arms around your waist. “What’s wrong, love?” Be snaked them around, a kiss to your somewhat clothed shoulder.

“Nothing, just a bit nervous to introduce you to everyone,” You smiled back at him, he squeezed a little tighter, catching your lips in a quick kiss. “Looking at your team, yet?”

“Nevermind that,” He grumbled, removing his hands to now interlace your left one with his right. “We should go in, right?”

“Maybe we could head back, to my place, say you are sick or something?” You looked back at him with a pleading look, to which he just chuckled at, starting to move to the front door, pressing the doorbell as you groaned a little.

“You’ll be fine,” He looked back at you as Rossi answered the door, cheerful smile on his lips, glass of scotch in hand as he moved out of the way to let you in.

“Ah! Y/n!” He cheered, leaning over to kiss your cheek and then pulled back. “Glad you made it! This must be…”

“Y/n! Oh where is the man?” Penelope rushed in, coming right by you with her own fruity drink, then leaning to whisper in your ear. “Is this him, oo!”

“Uh, Jethro that’s David,” You pointed to the man who first greeted you, him and Jethro shaking hands. “This is Penelope, the one kind of like Abby,” You smiled, as she gave you a little look, turning back and enveloping him in a little hug. She quickly turned back to you.

“He looks a little intimidating,” She whispered as you just laughed.

“For sure,” You nodded.

“Can I offer you a drink?” David turned to you two, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Something like Garcia for you Y/n, and what about you Jethro?”

“Just call me Gibbs, and yeah that’s fine,” He corrected Rossi, taking your hand as the two of you walked more inside of the magnificent house.

It truly was so well designed, very expensive, and the appetizers adorning the oak wood table looked very delicious. You wanted to go and grab a bite, before you were actually led to the living room where everyone was currently sitting.

“L/n, finally made it,” Derek laughed, beer in his hand as he pointed at you with a little chuckle. “You always know how to be a bit late.”

“Fashionably late, I believe that’s what it’s called,” JJ corrected them with her own wine glass in hand, Will sat right besides her on one of the couch as most of them in that room joined in laughter.

“What can I say?” You laughed, walking over, feeling less nervous with the factor of introducing your boyfriend, taking a seat on another couch in the large room, Jethro automatically sitting right besides you.

“So, introduce us,” Emily motioned over to Jethro, sly smile playing on her lips.

“This is Jethro, but he goes by Gibbs, and, uh, this is the team,” You started to name everyone off while pointing to them, leaving off a few names due to your members introducing their own partners to you.

Emily, Derek, and JJ had all brought partners. Spencer and Penelope decided to ‘go together’ as if they were partners, and Hotch hadn’t arrived yet. Rossi also had his girlfriend helping him cook in the kitchen, making drinks for you and Gibbs now.

“So, you work at NCIS, right?” Spencer questioned. “The Naval Criminal Investigative Service, very interesting considering the type of crimes you investigate. I would love to hear more about some of your cases and how you went about it,” Spencer smiled, a small notebook being pulled out of his pocket with a pen.

“Yeah,” Gibbs just nodded, looking at you a little questioning, which you just chuckled at.

“Why should we talk so much about work, it’s something we all do too much of,” You joked, everyone laughing, as Dave came back out, handing some drinks.

“Fine, fine, what do you do for fun Mr. Gibbs?” Derek asked, putting a arm over the couch and pulling his girl closer to his side, the woman just on her phone.

“I like to build boats, a type of hobbie I’ve been doing for years.”

“Building boats? Where?” Will wondered, intertwining his fingers with JJ.

“My basement, a private workspace.”

“How do you get it out then?” Penelope inquired, now back by Spencer and her face in her hand, leaning closer to show her interest in Gibbs statement.

“I’d be no fun if you knew that,” He shrugged, taking a drink with a small smile as Penelope gasped, Emily mouthing how ‘I like him’. It was sweet how everything was going well.

They all continued to converse with Gibbs, easily accepting him apart of the conversation, it was sweet and you were now on your second drink, practically all nerves gone.

“Sorry we’re late,” A voice mentioned in the hallway, dressed in a fine suit with a beautiful woman standing besides him. He shrugged off the last of his coat as he hung it up, taking her hand and walking into the hallway a little.

“This is such a nice place, Aaron. Oh! Your friend, wow, so grand,” The woman admired, now truly getting in your line of sight.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, eyes interlocking with yours before falling onto Gibbs. “I’m Aaron, call me Hotch.”

“I’m Gibbs,” Your boyfriend stood up, moving over to the other man with his hand stuck out. “Call me that.”

You had a feeling this evening wouldn’t be as smooth as you hoped.

——————

taglist - @wolviesbabes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

(comment to be added, or a tag list for all my gibbs post)

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of turmoil

Yandere!Childe x fatui!reader

[Previous chapter]

Just as you predicted that short and stifled conversation was a portent of future changes. Childe stopped trying to talk to you outside the business, he even avoided your eyes in those rare moments when you looked at him first. Normally obnoxious and persistent Harbinger seemed to deflate in your presence, as his swaggering and blustering attitude disappeared within mere moments.

You would be overjoyed for this turn of events, if you didn’t have any experience of dealing with and tolerating Tartaglia. Childe, as you already established, is a chaos personified, an erratic whirlwind that twists and ruins everything in its way wrapped in human skin and caged by human bones. It wouldn’t be a surprise if some nasty complications arose out of this faux armistice and sneaked upon your unsuspecting self.

Ajax wont do anything drastic, you reassure yourself - the Rite of Descension gets closer and closer with each passing day, he just can't afford to fail this, meaning that he will have to keep you on-field. It would be logical to do so, let you work, but logical sometimes means predictable and nothing about Ajax is predictable.

Fortunately he continued to keep this strange distance as days passed. Was your little episode and words you said to him enough to stop him in his pursuit? Maybe it truly hurt him, maybe it made him see how miserable he was making you, maybe his obsession with you ceased to exist, it’s flames fizzling and going out just as fast as they ignited. You doubt all of it, yet continue to hope for the better, despite the evidence of the opposite shoved in your face.

Ajax will never let go of you, not in the way you want. He killed and tortured people right before your eyes, sometimes had you assist him in doing so. Most of the time this was done in Tsaritsa’s name, for the future of Snezhnaya and her people, just another working assignment regardless of the blood curdling screams and alien agony.

However, in some rare cases the torment of others isn’t something that is totally impersonal to you, sometimes you’re the main cause. Childe is possessive, terribly so. He watches over you like a dragon guarding his gold, scaring away other possible admirers. And if his title and reputation wasn’t enough to keep away whatever poor sod who decided to tempt the dragon, well, other way more grim methods were used.

You never personally witnessed these kinds of torture, but you heard rumours and sometimes saw the bodies after, images that keep reappearing in your nightmares. Maybe this lull is nothing but a quiet before the storm, a short breather after he commits some unforgettable atrocity again.

He personally summons you the day before the Descension. You brace yourself for incoming nonsense, except nothing comes. “Agent [Last]”, he says, his voice tense and restrained.”I need you to attend the Rite of Descension with me. You will be disguised as a civilian", and then he dismisses you, no hint of mind games he likes to play in sight.

You want to hope that he changed, you succeed and fail at the same time - this new Ajax is pleasant, he’s cold and disinterested, just like any boss should be, yet you just can’t relax and focus wholly on doing the job - it’s a privilege only those who haven’t met Tartaglia can afford.

He’s a sea, treacherous and ever changing, calm and serene in one moment, yet violent and crushing in the other.

You spend the day torn between the anxious thoughts of Tartaglia and what he might do and the preparation for upcoming ceremony - it's a once in a lifetime event, it's Tsaritsa’s will and hope, it's Ajax’s eyes focused on you. You can’t afford to fail, you have no right to do so.

Wearing a simple Snezhnayan overcoat with nothing hiding your face is surely strange after years of donning a fatui uniform. Tourists and Liyuens alike pass by, not paying you any attention. Both vision and delusion glow under the thick fabric, asking you to use them.

You walk faster.

The top of the Yujing Terrace is lit with sunlight and full of human sounds, as merchants and other workers haste to finish their tasks and join the people at the top. You look around, quickly noticing the familiar ginger - he stays half-turned to you, his eyes focused on the figure of Tianquan. You quickly avert your gaze, as if not recognizing him, and shift it towards other people - you spot two vision holders among the crowd too - an electro and geo one, and a strange person cladded in the exotic clothes with some sort of flying fairy(?) floating around.

You walk to the altar placing Liyuen flowers nearby the multiple offerings of food, wine and gold, their simple white petals contrasting against the gaudy luxury of the rest.

"Qingxin flowers?", someone suddenly says, a speck of genuine surprise evident in the phrase. Their voice is too close for your comfort - you quickly turn on the heels, alarmed by a person somehow sneaking up on you only to be met with a pair of the golden eyes.

It’s a nicely dressed Liyuen gentleman, with the air of wisdom and elegance surrounding him, an inner dignity shining from beneath, and most importantly the one you saw wearing a vision at the back of the coat. You try to look as calm as possible, despite the senses telling you otherwise - after years of service any vision holder unadorned by the Fatui colors is perceived as a threat.

“Yes, it is”, you quip back, not wanting to look suspicious: “Is this improper? Qingxin as an offering?”, you mimic a light concern - something that would be appropriate for the foreign merchant who might have offended the god of commerce.

“No, not at all”, Liyuen laughs: “just in all of my years, I have never seen anyone offer these flowers”.

“Huh”, you smile, looking at the man before you. Is he a simple liyuen you thought of him at first? He has Geo vision - the symbol of Archaic Lord’s recognition - and the way he said “all of my years” carry more weight than usual, a mark of something hidden beneath the mundane phrase.

“Something tells me, you must have attended every rite of Descension”, you continue, the starter vague and innocent enough - a perfect way to fish out more information. For some reason, his golden eyes widen a bit, it’s subtle and quick enough to go unnoticed by most people, but you’re not the most people - all Fatui agents are trained to catch even the smallest changes and educated in multiple fields, physiognomy included.

What could have caused such a reaction and why did he react the way he did? The Rite of Descension is a prominent event in the life of every Liyuen, even if it’s annual, as thousands of thousands of people traverse great distances to see their god fly down from the heavens and grace his subjects with the wisdom of countless years. You remember seeing Liyuens living in Snezhnaya consistently take a leave every year for a week, when the prominent date showed on the horizon, missing working days and no doubt a lot of nerves, only to see the archon of their homeland.

So why did that man looks so surprised?

“You’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?”, he responds, voice calm and pleasant, despite the masterfully hidden surprise: “And yes, I have always tried my best to be at every Rite to this day. Rex Lapis shares his experience with his people, so it’s an incredibly important day. And what about you? What brings a foreigner here?”, he makes a gesture at your obviously snezhnayan clothes.

“Well, I am a travelling merchant as you can see”, you raise your hands, showing him more of the coat: “Having blessing from the God of Commerce won't hurt, right?". He, again, reacts in the way you haven't anticipated, a handsome face adopting a contemplating expression for a short second.

"Rex Lapis rewards diligent people, work hard and he shall bless you too", he says with an air of wisdom around him, like an old enlightened monk passing his knowledge to the disciples surrounding him: "And you shouldn't keep your vision beneath the layers of cloth. I feel its chill just standing here, who knows what it will do to your body?".

Then he simply turns away and goes to the exit of Yujing terrace, and it’s your turn to suppress the rising agitation - how did he know, where’s he heading now?

“Wait”, you say: “why are you leaving?”

“I dedicated my whole life to my job, which consists of a collection of small and incredibly repetitive tasks, they took up most of my attention and I slowly, but surely became a creature of habit, deaf and blind outside its limited field of experience and comfort zone. Time never stops, so I decided to leave the work I’ve been entrusted with, and I want to start it by breaking my strongest habit - religiously attending every Rite of Descension”.

“Ah”, you reply, equally impressed by his speech, and feeling that you are talking about two completely different and unrelated topics: “well, good luck on that”.

More and more people flood the terrace as one of the main threats to your plans finally arrives - stern and ambitious, Ningguang looks as elegant and intimidating as ever, geo vision and the tassel attached to it, shaking with every graceful step. She throws a short glance at Tartaglia - he stands surrounded by the rest of the agents - yet her face doesn’t change even a bit, whatever hostility she may hold for your faction masterfully suppressed.

You quickly look around - tourists and citizens arrive at the last minutes and milleliths come with them. Soon, all of the exits are heavily guarded by at least four soldiers, all carrying spears and clad in armour - surely a necessary precaution, given the presence of Fatui and their Harbinger.

There are no milleliths among the crowd though, not in the on-duty uniform at least. You study the group again, this time looking for anyone with weapons, as someone lightly pushes you away - it’s that foreigner again. “I am sorry, we need to go closer”, the pixie-like creature apologizes, as it flies after the stranger, and you conclude that there are no armed people, except you, Tartaglia, milleliths, Ningguang and that strange person.

“The hour is upon us”, Tianquan starts, after looking at the bright sun above, two women around her slightly bowing down, as she invokes the power of geo. The gold glow surrounds and illuminates her whole figure, before condensing into hard rocks of the same shade. They shine and fly around her for a bit, leaving the yellow trails behind before starting to spin around the shrine in the middle of the rock table.

Soon the golden inscriptions on the shrine start to glow too, before it sends a bright orange beam into the blue sky. The crowd "Oh!"s and "Ah!"s as the clouds deform around the pillar of light.

Tension, so thick it can be tasted, descends in the waves upon the Terrace as some - carefree and ignorant - hold their breaths in excitement and anticipation, whilst the rest focus in caution - Fatui and Qingxin alike. You shift, taking out both vision and delusion out of your coat, as your eyes frantically shift between Tianquan, Tartaglia and the spiraling clouds above, your whole being ready to aid Childe in his mission.

And then something unexpected happens: a majestic dragon does descend to his people. By falling straight to the ground. Serpentine body slumps around the crushed offerings, elongated tongue escaping the confines of the maw.

A long second of absolute silence passes before Ningguang collects herself, checks the body and orders milleliths to close off all the exits, as the crowd erupts into turmoil and chaos realizing what exactly has happened. You disguise amongst the panicking masses, hiding two glowing orbs in the deep pockets of your coat,before looking at Tartaglia again - he in turn intently stares at the blonde foreigner, who quite clumsily tries to sneak past the soldiers.

Milleliths catch onto that running after the stranger and you use this opportunity, turning invisible in the same second. People around you are too panicked to question your sudden disappearance or the unnaturally cold breeze swaying past them, as you make your way - Childe has already departed, chasing after the group of soldiers, and Ningguang is seen leaving too, giving the last orders, before turning to the Yuehai pavillion.

You contemplate for a second, unsure what to do - Tartaglia has ordered you to aid him in case of Qixing intervention, there was nothing about the death of your target and the glimpse into Tianquan’s actions might be a key to solving the mystery of said departure. The thing that you plan to do is opportunistic, reckless even - who would have known that Ajax will rub off onto you? You chase after Ningguang, careful to keep yourself invisible.

Who is Rex Lapis’ murderer?

She goes up to the aged man standing at the stairs of the pavilion, they exchange a couple of words before Ningguang steps up on the little floating island and it starts to levitate! You run after her, still unsure what to do - the platform is too small, Tianquan will no doubt feel the chill coming from you, but the opportunity to learn what Qixing are planning is too good to miss.

In the end, you come to compromise, jumping after the rising platform, as your hands clutch into its rough protrusions and you grit your teeth, enduring the pain and cold from the vision overuse. The little island rises higher and higher, as people and buildings underneath turn into small dots. Your fingers start to slide off a couple of times, yet you grab onto the island with a renewed strength everytime that happens, asking Tsaritsa to let fortune favour you.

The platform finally stops moving, and you pull up, once you hear her heels clicking away.

Jade chamber, as it turns out, exceeds all rumours, luxurious and opulent, shining above the prosperous city, it glows under the sunlight with a golden radiance. You would have stopped to admire it if it wasn’t for your goal. You sneak after Ningguang, following her to the office as she takes out papers and folders from the shelves. She focuses on them, as you carefully step near her, glancing at what she’s reading - it’s reports of fatui activity throughout the months, leading to this day, thankfully vague and very far from reality.

Does it mean that she also has no idea of what or who caused Rex Lapis’ death and tries to find his killer? Or does it mean that she looks for a way to deduct Fatui's next actions?

You don’t have time to contemplate, as the frost worsens and you feel cryo energy exhausting from the overuse - one more minute and you’ll become visible. You quickly walk away - you don’t have enough time to reach that platform, so you do the most logical thing - fling yourself out of the window, opening the wings of the glider halfway the jump.

You push the most of your invisibility, letting go of the cryo powers once you're only a couple of meters above the ground. In the end you find yourself tired and frozen to the very bones, slowly coming back to the Northland bank.

***

You approach the building as the Sun begins to set - its pink-orange rays dying everything in the warm glow. The bank looks glorious like that, sinking in the reddish tones, it looks like an illustration out of children’s books - a place of something miraculous, a place of something hopeful.

“Hi”, you throw to the tired Vlad and he nods, after suppressing an escaping yawn: “Is boss here?”

“Yeah”, he croaks, drowsiness evident in his speech: “came back like an hour or two ago. Can’t really remember”.

“Huh.. Well, thanks”, and with these words you enter the bank, pushing the doors and preparing yourself for the confrontation to come.

After chatting with Ekaterina and confirming that yes, he is in his office, you head for the staircase, all of the information you learned today buzzing inside your head.

Childe sits, hunched over the papers, as you enter, not paying you even the sliver of attention. For some reason he’s in a different clothes.

“Eleventh Harbinger”, you start the standard greeting, all formal and stiff: “this subordinate has finished the task”.

This finally prompts him to raise his head, cold blue eyes look at you, no hint of the usual obsessiveness in sight: "you may speak, agent" he succinctly says, putting the writing feather aside. You quickly report to him all you have seen today, without your own thoughts involved - they’re just baseless theories, after all.

“So you say, Tianquan was reading the reports about Fatui activity. Haven’t you destroyed those reports earlier?”

“Those papers contained nothing about the current situation, they were actually far from reality, I doubt that any of those reports survived the fire”.

“Seems, I’ll have to take your word for it”, a sigh, he leans closer in his seat, propping left cheek on the palm: “Why did Tianquan look at them? What was she trying to do? Pin her crime on us?”, he glances at you again, gesturing that you can speak your mind and you do.

“Highly unlikely, sir. From the short time I spent watching her and her reputation, I have an impression that Qixing Tianquan is a person who prefers to plan her every action. If she or any other Qixing higher up, were the one who murdered our target, then every needed preparation would be done months, if not even years in advance. She would somehow cast us as the killers right at the ceremony, in front of thousands of Liyuens, making us a scapegoat for public outrage and creating alibi for herself”.

“So, that’s how you think”, he hums, blue eyes deep in thought: “Your entire conclusion is based on the mere impression. With Tianquan’s ambition I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one behind this...”, a vague hand gesture: “catastrophic situation”.

“When I sneaked inside the Jade chamber, she looked very frantic, it didn’t show on her face, but her movements were harsh and quick, lacking any of her elegance. She looked like she tried to keep herself together”.

“Anyone would try to do that, especially after killing a god”, he looks somewhere to the left, no doubt imagining battling the dead archon: “Well, my conclusion isn’t based on anything solid either. We don’t know who killed Rex Lapis, but we still need to somehow obtain his gnosis”, the last part isn’t addressed directly to you, it seems that Ajax just decided to voice out his worries.

“You can go”, he says, standing up from the table. You are touching the door handle, when you hear him asking:”what’s with your hand?”. The tone is nothing like that time, yet shivers still go up your spine when you remember what happened that day.

"Frostbite, from my vision", he comes closer to you, hand outstretched to yours: “Can I?”, he asks and waits for your faint nod, before gently pulling it closer to his face.

“It’s a second degree”, he mumbles, inspecting the white-blue discolorations and small angry blisters - the skin throbs and aches at his touch, yet most of it remains numb, muffled, like sounds underwater: “You should get it treated”.

“I should”, you agree, eager to leave this room and situation: “I will ask medics for some..”

“I already discharged them”, his hand suddenly shifts, now resting atop of the door handle, his frame suddenly looming over you: “I have a medkit here, with the ointments and balms. Maybe you should stay here and let me patch you up?”

Why did you even think that Childe could change?

***

Ajax has you sitting on his chair, with sleeves rolled up to the very elbows, as he frets around you - checking the temperature, pulling the warm water closer to you and taking out needed medicine out of the kit. It’s mostly silent, except the tune he quietly hums - Childe looks peaceful and content like this, maybe he likes caring for you.

“Does it hurt?”, he takes a discolored finger, probing around the blister, as the warm hydro energy engulfs your damaged hand. The burst of sensation explodes at this action - pain, tingling, throbbing, even relief.

“Bearable”.

“Understood”, Childe gets back to his task, continuing to rewarm your hands, still humming that tune as he does so. He takes out the healing ointment, when the healthy color and warmth returns to your limbs and spreads it on the skin, bitter herbal scent filling the room in an instant.

“[First]”, he says, as he rubs the place between the index and middle fingers: “I think we need to talk. About that day and your reaction”.

“And what about it?”, you respond, too quickly and snappy for the calm-facade - the memories of that day, of what you thought he will do to you, of how he witnessed you falling apart - all of these are too much, a maelstrom of conflicted feelings rising every time your thoughts stray to this topic. He finishes applying the balm and now switches to the bandanges, wrapping treated hands in them.

“Don’t you think you treat me too harshly, [First]? I understand I may have been… unpleasant in the Past, but I thought we moved past that. What have I done to warrant such ire?”, he says it with his usual smile, but there's a tense, heavy tinge in his words. It’s subtle enough to miss, but you knew Ajax since you both were fourteen, so the strain doesn’t go unnoticed.

Everything, you want to coldly respond, but you stop yourself again - Ajax is still a Harbinger, even if he trailed your steps at the training camp like an overeager and highly murderous puppy not even a decade ago, no matter your own feelings or sentiments or even experiences he still holds that power over you, whether he realizes it or not.

“There were.. things”, broken bones, coppery scent of blood, someone else screams: “training with you wasn’t pleasant for sure”. Childe laughs at the last part, yet the tension clouding in the air doesn’t dissipate, turning more tangible instead.

“I see”, a long pause: “I want to prove you're wrong, I want to prove you that I will never do something against your will”.

You already did. You stay silent at that, anger and fury and frustration boiling underneath, burning and scorching your insides like a magma moments before the eruption. His hands finally wrap the last layer of bandage, tying the ends into a neat little bow, yet he doesn’t let your palm out of your hold, as his lips hover over it, breath burning the skin even through the fabric. And then he releases it, not doing anything.

“Good luck with that”, you finally suppress the inner storm, and stand up from the chair, quickly heading to the door. The place where he almost kissed your tingles and throbs with a renewed strength. Your cheeks burn for some reason.

[futurewriter2000]

Dysfunctional - pt. 1

A/N: I'm just bored.

XX

Growth is something only a little amount of people know about. Nobody truly wants to grow but they do, whether they choose to or not, through time they change.

And so as a bad man finds a bible, a good woman finds her power.

Who were you in the eyes of most people? - A question that always floated in the back of your mind. Like a pebble in your shoe, the one you could never get rid of. It was the main question that bothered you all years through Hogwarts, up to a point where you pushed it so far down and completely transformed it.

Who are you in the eyes of yourself?

Foolish question that oddly worked wonders for you and your transformation. You change your mindset, you change yourself right? At least that's what all those Muggle books had been telling you.

All Hogwarts dug their interest in you all of a sudden but you haven't thought much about it. For you, it was as if nothing had changed. You thought you didn't interest anybody and that was what made you keep yourself on the right path to focus on you and the little moments life has to offer.

"I can't believe that's her." Sirius leaned over, staring and smiling.

"Wave a whole banner, don't you." Remus retorded, rolling his eyes.

"If only she wasn't a Slytherin- by the way, how could she had got sorted into Slytherin. Since our interactions had always been so... civil and well... she posed no threat what-so-ever. I'd always imagined her being in a Hufflepuff." James added, meanwhile Sirius sat down and grabbed himself a toast.

"She lives not far from us." started Peter and all eyes turned to him. "(Y/n)." he felt the need to clarify. "I had heard loads of shouting in her house... since we lived there, everybody knew her family situation."

"Rich and spoiled?" Sirius rolled his eyes, taking another bite in his toast.

"Rich and... strict... very strict father and mother..." Peter mumbled, looking at his bread.

"Oh, that's right. Met her father once- loud old sod." James looked back, looking at you laughing with some of other Slytherins- the bad kind that caused his heart to be swallowed by his stomach. "Always so angry..." he continued, looking at you until your eyes met and he quickly turned away.

"She's got nice hair." said Sirius as all of them furrowed their eyebrows at him. "It's just an observation." he shrugged.

---

You had been starting to hang out a lot with the wrong crowd of Hogwarts. Everybody started to notice... everybody started to say they were corrupting you and the changes they noticed were quite massive.

You started talking back to the teachers. Something you have never thought of doing, since your shyness was a large part of your childhood personality. But that was just it... you weren't a child anymore, were you?

You were going out of the classroom when somebody rushed right into you, spilling the coffee in your hand all over you and your books.

The boy's eyes widened as he continued to look at the stains that were starting to show all over your uniform.

"I am so sorry, (Y/N). I swear, I didn't mean to- I just- you appeared out of nowhere-" James started to apologize. You were only staring down, staring at him, then back down and just as James was preparing to be yelled at, hexed at or cursed at you let out a laugh.

"Well hell..." you smiled up at him. "Finally a reason to get a new robe." you let out another laugh, meanwhile James only stood there.

"You're not... mad?"

"Well, being mad wouldn't really do us much favour, would it now?" you picked up your books that weren't that much damaged as you thought they'd be. "Shame for the coffee tho. Can't really function without it."

"Coffee?" he repeated. "You're mad about the coffee?" he started to feel a bit relieved.

"I don't joke about coffee, Potter. You should know that." you wiped the books with the sleeves of your uniform. You started to take off the robe so that you would only stand there in front of him with your shirt, tie and skirt. Only then James started to realise how much your body has changed since the last time he had seen you. Your breast, specifically, where he could see your finely shaped lace bra through the coffee stain. He felt his cheeks go red, radiating through his faint freckles and you couldn't help yourself but to smile.

"I'm so sorr- rry." he muttered again, taking off his robe and offering it to you. "Here. Take it."

"Oh, nice. A Gryffindor robe." you took it and wrapped it around yourself. "Though, I always imagined stealing it." you winked and he let out a laugh.

"Would fit your house perfectly."

"Theft?" you questioned. "No. Not a trait for Slytherins."

"No?" he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. "If it's not their trait, then whose is?"

"Mine." you winked again, grabbing the bag from the floor as James grabbed your books. "Now, imagine a Slytherin coming into the common room with a Gryffindor robe. God, I'd piss them all off."

James started to laugh. "You hate your own house?"

"Oh, God no." you let out a laugh as you started to walk beside him and notice him looking at you, observing you. "I just find this house thing rivalry real funny." you said, finding him still staring. You stopped and turned around. "What are you staring at Potter?"

"You, clearly." he pointed out bluntly. "It suits you so much better than me and it clearly doesn't even fit you."

You started to laugh. "Well, don't get jealous over it. I'll give it back to you when we reach the dungeons."

"Oh, you can give it back later?"

"Why?"

"Because you can see everything through the stains. Why do you think I offered it to you? Plus, you said you wanted to piss off Slytherins and I'd like to piss of Slytherins as well."

"A common interest."

"Exactly."

"Though, I think they'll live, knowing I wear a bra and that I have... a body. Maybe they'll finally stop thinking I'm half mermaid or something." you started to joke and so did James. "If I really wanted to piss them off, I'd use a tie because a robe looks like any other robe, really."

James was the one that stopped now, shoving the books he held into your arms and untying his tie.

"No way, you're doing that. I was joking."

"I'm not." he smiled with his teeth and pulled it over his head. He untied yours and pulled it over yours, exchanging it for his own, Gryffindor tie. "Tell me how it goes. " he said just before he left, lifting your tie in his fist. "I'll keep on to this- just in case I don't get mine back.

"Alrighty!" you shouted after him.

---

It wasn't until the next day when James was drowsily eating his breakfast before his practice. You came from behind and scared him half to death. His toast flew from his hand and all eyes flew to the two of you. You squeezed between him and the red-head, completely dismissing her presence as you gave James a cheeky smile.

"Want to know?"

"You made my toast fly away." he siad drowsily.

"And you made my coffee make love to the floor. Now do you want to know?"

"How are you so chirp this morning? It's not even seven?"

"Got up at 2am. Had like two coffees since then. Anyway. Do you want to know?"

"Two in the morning? Hell, why did you get up so early- that's not even early... that's like late. And yeah, I do want to know." he started t wake up to the news.

"Been studying all week at night and now I sleep in the noon and am awake in the night. Fun." you chirped.

"Okay- tell me what happened?"

"The looks- oh, my God, you should have been there when I walked it. It was like I murdered their entire family."

"No-" he let out a laugh.

"Mulciber came to me." you started to talk in a more drama-spilling tone and James got excited.

"I thought the two of you were like friends."

"Us? Maybe in another dimension but like-

' *flashback*

"What the hell are you wearing?" he stomped to you and grabbed you by your tie, to which you shoved away in a second.

"Haven't you seen this new trend? I think it goes with- you are what you eat." you started to tease, turning around like a fashion model as you placed your hands on your hips. "Or in this case, you wear what you eat and I eat coffee every day, any day." you winked.

"And the tie?"

"You like?" you continued, seeing the little jealousy burn in his eyes, except you knew far well it wasn't jealousy. It was possessiveness and you'd rather go to hell than be anybody's property. "It's from my new beau." you fanned yourself, wrapping yourself in his robe and peeking through it. "A prince on white horse came to me today-"

"Be serious, (y/n)."

"I am dead serious." you pouted playfully. "He rushed on his horse and knocked me down, spilled my poor coffee all over me. It was like love at first sight. He scooped me into his arms and said 'Oh, dear! How could I have hurt this beautiful creature.-"

"You really didn't say that?" James interrupted the story telling, laughing as the other's who were surrounding you laughed with you.

"I did. Now let me go back."

- "He didn't say that!" Mulciber rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're shagging a Gryffindor?"

"I'm not." you started to get more serious. "And if I would be, would it be such a bad thing doing one? I mean, you only live once, why would it be wrong not taking a taste of all four cakes." you teased again, causing him to grow redder in his pale skin.

"You stole it."

"It was pleasantly exchanged."

"Exchanged?"

"A tie for a tie." you smiled.

"Why don't we go, eye for an eye?"

"Because nobody wants to give their eye, silly." you continued.

"You really annoy me, you know."

"I do and I really do not care. I only want to go to my room and take a nap."

"I will find out, you know!"

"I don't care!"

"Who was it?!"

"Dumbledore!"

*end of fashback*

"You're crazy." James continued to laugh.

"A little dysfunctional but not crazy." you winked and got up.

"And my things?"

"Do you got mine?"

"No, I didn't think I'd see you this early."

"Well then... guess they are mine now." you leaned forward, an inch apart as both of you continued to grin at each other, not another word spoken. You didn't dare to look anywhere else than his hazel eyes, such a wonderful mixture of green, brown and yellow. It amazes you how somebody can have such a wonderful eye colour. He didn't even only have one colour but three. "Pretty." you said, still smiling and pulled away, jumping back on your feet as he turned to you, smiling.

"Wait!" Sirius spoke before you could leave. "When did... when did you become best friends?"

"We didn't." James answered and you looked down at him, raising an eyebrow and feeling amused.

"No. We just made blood bond nobody else could break." you spoke mysteriously, putting your elbows on James' shoulders and placing your head on top of his, staring at Sirius. "And now we will secretly plan the end of the world. Muahahah." you joked, standing back up as the others laughed. "See you later Potts." and with that you were gone as the other watched you.

"What... just happened?" Remus started laughing, amazed.

"They made a blood bond." Sirius pointed his finger at you disappearing.

James started laughing. "Maybe now I can ask her about what she does with her hair for you." James got up and winked at Sirius.

"Oh, would you? I really want to know." Sirius stood up and started to walk behind him. "Just... say it's for Lily or something."

James started laughing again, then realising. "Oh, shit!" he turned around, searching for the red-head that was sitting beside him. "She was telling me something when (y/n) appeared. I totally forgot about her."

Sirius started laughing loudly, tapping James' shoulder. "Good luck getting her attention now."

[anonymousfiction211]

Give it time: ch4

Click here for chapter 1 Click here for chapter 2 Click here for chapter 3

A/N: It took a while, but here is the continuation of Give it time. For the people who requested it, don’t worry. This is not the last chapter! I think about writing one, maybe two more. This one is written from Thor’s point of view. Hope you like it!

Brother ‘Loki? What are you doing in Asgard?’ Thor asked surprised when he saw his younger brother walking through the hall.

‘It’s my home, so what do you think?’ Loki answered clearly irritated. Before Thor could answer he walked past. Thor had learned to let Loki be when he was in one of his moods, and went in search of his mother. He found her in the garden.

After he had greeted his mother properly he asked ‘What is wrong with Loki?’

Her smiled turned sad. ‘I only know that he and (Y/N) had a fight. Apparently she has gotten back together with her ex-boyfriend Steve? He was a bit cryptic and didn’t feel like talking about it. All I know that he is been in a foul mood, berating the staff, annoying your father and recently he started to drink and attend party’s… trying to find his happiness elsewhere’

‘What do you mean broke up? (Y/N) truly loved him, I didn’t even know she and Steve were together once’

‘This is all I know, he barely sleeps, is angry all the time, and I’m afraid he is planning something. I think it is best you go talk to him’ Frigga told him.

Thor hummed in agreement, and went to search for Loki. A task proven to be extremely difficult if his younger brother didn’t want to be found. It took him half the afternoon, but he finally found Loki sulking in his own private library.

‘Brother, what happened?’ Thor asked.

‘Go away, Thor. I’m not in the mood for you or the volume of your voice’ Loki snarled.

‘Tell me what happened, you’re miserable that is plain to see. Maybe I can help?’ Thor asked, ignoring his brother’s bad temper.

‘Thanks for the compliment, and no you can’t help me. Nobody can’ Loki answered.

‘Loki, just tell me’ Thor sighed. ‘If you do, I will leave you alone’ he added.

This got the attention of Loki. ‘Fine’ he said. And Loki explained his version of events. The past between Steven and (Y/N). How Steve has been setting (Y/N) up against him, how she is too naïve, how Steve practically admitted that he wanted her and how he walked in on them kissing each other. Thor listened to every word and kept his thoughts and questions to himself, letting Loki finish uninterrupted. After the story came to an end, he had to find the right words. Words and meanings were everything to Loki and he couldn’t mess this up. Not when Loki finally let him in.

When the silence endured Loki spoke first ‘You may take your leave now’ he grabbed one of his books and opened it halfway through.

‘What did (Y/N) say about all this?’ Thor asked, he wondered since he hadn’t heard anything about it.

‘We did not talk, I just left’ Loki said through gritted teeth.

‘And you haven’t had any contact with her since then?’ Thor asked.

‘No, weren’t you listening?’

‘Then how do you know if your version is true?’ he asked.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Loki asked.

‘If everything you say is true, then how do you know that she’s with Steve? That she loves him? I know her, and she was crazy about you. I just can’t believe that she would do this…’

‘I saw it’

Thor just chuckled a little ‘If there are two things I learned from growing up with you: one, pay very close attention to what you are actually saying and two, nothing is what is seems’

Loki smirked a little ‘That is because I’m a skilful sorcerer and the God of Lies’ then his smile faltered ‘It doesn’t matter anymore, this was all some time ago. By now she surely is with Steve, and I wish them a very unhappy life together’ he said while his attention shifted back to his book.

‘And what are you planning?’ Thor asked, remembering the words of his mother.

‘I may have thought about ways to kill Steve, but I’m not anymore. I’m just attending a party tonight. So, you can tell mother she’s worries for nothing’

‘It’s not like you to drink and attend parties. You always hated them’ Thor said a bit surprised.

‘Well yeah, but where else meet a girl for a night?’ Loki smirked.

‘Or you could come with me’ Thor said.

‘To where?’

‘Back to Midgard, to the Avengers. You can clear things up with (Y/N), because I’m not buying this story to be true. Plus, your still part of the team and can’t just leave whenever you feel like it’ Thor said.

‘No thanks’ Loki said.

‘Loki, you look like crap and knowing you, you probably feel worse. So, coming back can only improve your mood. If not, I promise I will let you attend ever party in Asgard and you can drink and fuck your problems away. But you will hate yourself if you didn’t at least hear her out’ Thor said angrily.

It took Loki aback a bit. He pondered over the question. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he then asked.

This took Thor aback. ‘Because you’re my brother and I want you to be happy’ he answered.

Loki clearly was struggling with not letting the emotion show on his face, Thor let him get away with it, it was what Loki needed at the moment.

‘But you don’t believe me?’ Loki asked after a while.

‘I do believe you, I just think there is more to the story. If it is the whole story we leave immediately, I promise’ Thor said.

‘Together?’ Loki asked.

‘Together, I got your back’ Thor confirmed. He got up and walked towards the exit of the library. He would have to prepare the journey to Midgard. He looked back when he heard Loki say ‘Thor… thanks brother’. Thor just smiled and nodded, but in his heart there was nothing but love for his little brother. Who, despite the way he could lash out, he loved very dearly and he knew that Loki cared about him, even if he didn’t always show it.

Back on Midgard The Bifrost opened and Thor and Loki stood in front of the familiar compound. Thor noticed that Loki used magic to make himself appear more together, but didn’t comment on it. The two of them walked in the tower. That’s when they heard Tony.

‘Thank God, latterly, that the two of you are finally here!’ he exclaimed.

‘Why, what’s wrong?’ Thor asked.

‘What’s wrong? (Y/N) is an absolute mess, she barely eats and doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I can’t believe you did that to her’ he looked accusingly at Loki.

‘I didn’t do anything, she was the one that kissed Steve’ Loki angrily replied.

‘Huh, what? You were the one that cheated on her. She broke when she found out about it’ Tony said.

Thor was confused. Yes, in the past Loki has betrayed the one’s he loved many times. But he always had a good reason, it was not like him to betray the woman he loved for a bit of fun.

‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’ Loki snarled.

Tony grabbed his phone and showed them the video that Steve had showed him. It was Loki at some party in the compound, drinking and kissing with some other woman Thor didn’t recognize. Loki looked intently at the video. ‘That’s not me! How did you even get that?’ Loki asked.

‘Steve showed it to us’ Tony replied. While Loki was ranting on about Steve he and Tony started to discuss the realness of the video. Thor sneaked away and went in search of (Y/N). He knocked on her door, but there was no answer.

‘(Y/N), I’m coming in’ he said, hoping she was okay. He opened her room, which was still dark. (Y/N) lay under the covers, the air in the room didn’t smell fresh, and around her bed there were several empty bottles of wine.

‘(Y/N)?’ Thor asked. She suddenly turned around and faced him. She sat up straight. Thor could tell she had lost weight, probably from not eating. There were bags and dark circles under her eyes and her hair was greasy.

‘Leave’ she said angrily and Thor saw a hint of the fire that Loki used to love about her.

‘No, I think…’ but he was cut of by (Y/N) throwing an empty wine bottle towards him. It missed his head and broke against the wall, glass flying around the room. ‘LEAVE’ she half-yelled again.

‘I will leave when you talked to me, and I talked to you’ Thor said sternly. He looked her in her eyes, they seemed to be in some sort of staring contest. He could tell she was tired.

She sighed ‘Fine, but I don’t wan to hear a thing about your brother’ tears were already forming in her eyes.

‘Just tell me your version of events, and if it makes sense I promise that I will take Loki back to Asgard with me’ Thor said. Her eyes widened when she heard that Loki was here. For a moment she felt relieved, and wanted nothing more than to run towards him. Hoping he would wrap his arms around her and spin her around. But then she remembered the video Steve showed her about a month after Loki left. He tried to help her get over him, but it only made things worse.

When (Y/N) started to tell he story, Thor discovered that they didn’t add up, just as he expected. He couldn’t help but get angry at Steve for orchestrating this whole thing. He got so angry that a storm was brooding over the compound, something that hadn’t happen in a few hundred years. But now, he couldn’t control himself. He saw (Y/N) flinch when she heard the rumbling sound of thunder, but couldn’t help himself. She had finished her story and Thor was hallway through to explaining Loki’s version of it, when the door burst open.

Tony came running towards (Y/N) yelling ‘It’s deepfake, it’s deepfake!’ he was panting and couldn’t say anything more. That’s when he saw that  (Y/N)’s eyes just notice done presence that was looming in the doorway, Loki.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite​ @justacripple​

People who definitely needed the story to continue/commented on the other chapter (hope you don’t mind me tagging you!): @onlyforloki @not-your-bitch @lovelokiqueen @unicorns105 @phenelopejoy @elliemustdraw @lokiestorch

[goldencherryhazz]

Better than sex

A/n: it’s currently nearly midnight and I have been working on this for the past three hours, so I don’t even know if it makes sense but I will check in the morning lol! Notes would be much appreciated, pls don’t copy my work!

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, oral fem!recieving, fluff

Agreeing to go on tour with Harry was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made, travelling to every corner of the world and watching your boyfriend perform in front of thousands of people in the most extravagant outfits every night was honestly a dream, but now after four months being on the road with him you we’re finally going home for a break.

‘Wake up darling’ Harry said stroking your cheek, it was only 7’o’clock in the evening in the uk, but jet lag was getting the better of you so Harry being more accommodated to flying here there an everywhere gladly drove you two home from the airport whilst you napped.

You give him a lazy smile stretching your arms in the air ‘we’re home H’ you say excitedly looking at the front of your home, you honestly thought you forgot what it looked like after not seeing it for 4 months.

‘Yes we are my love’ admiring his girl and how cute she looked rubbing her sleepy eyes with her whole palm like a child.

He opens his door and climbs out of the car, quickly making his way to your side to open the door for you like the gentleman he is, ‘m’lady’ he gestures for to to get out the car ‘well thankyou kind sir’ you giggle at him, pecking his cheek on your way to the back of the car.

You two make a quick job of getting all your luggage into the house, only dumping them in the porch already agreeing to deal with it in the morning.

You walk into the kitchen to be greeted by Daisy, your two’s cat who Anne had kindly looked after whilst you and Harry were touring, you felt bad for leaving her for so long but Anne had insisted seeing as Daisy got along with her cats aswell, so she basically had a massive sleepover, ‘hey dais how are you, missed you soo much’ you coo towards her she let you stroke her for a maximum of two seconds before she spots Harry in the doorway and bounds over to him. You chuckle, Daisy had always had a soft spot for Harry and you couldn’t really blame her ‘not giving mama cuddles huh, missed your daddy too much’ he said with the cat laid in his arms, her paws up as if she was in surrender. Eventually she scrambled out of his arms going to her bed in the living room you presumed.

‘Wanna go and watch a film in bed baby, you can choose whatever you want promise I won’t make you watch The Notebook again’

‘Yeah sounds perfect’ she smiles walking to grab his outstretched hand which didn’t have any rings on which was a strange sight after being so used to seeing him with them on.

The two of you trudge up the stairs, and when you finally make it to the top you run into the bedroom that you and Harry shared, and jumped onto your California king bed, making Harry laugh at your antics. You had truly missed this bed after being in a different hotel at least once every two days over the last four months, there was just something about the duvet and the memory foam mattress topper that you couldn’t get enough of, the sheets were also extra soft and smelled like fresh flowers, you laid flat on your back with tight arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, as you practically sunk into the mattress ‘this is better than sex’ you say jokingly but sounding quite serious due to how comfortable you were at that moment.

This made Harry spin round to face you with his eyebrows raised a smirk on his lips, he made his way to the bed, you had your eyes closed so when you felt his breath again the side of your neck it made you jump and had a shiver running out your spine ‘are you sure about that sweet girl’

You open you eyes in shock, not knowing what you said would get him riled up that quickly, or bruise his over so increasing ego, but you knew if you kept playing along he would give it to you really good just so that he could prove you wrong, and you were all for it.

‘Are you saying that this bed is better than my cock...my fingers...and my mouth?’ Kissing you on the sweet spot on your neck between his words.

‘Hmm, I don’t know you’ll have to show me can’t remember.’

‘Oh baby you don’t know what you’ve gotten your self into, I’m gonna make you remember it for days’ making a moan escape your lips, he pounced on top of you pinning you arms above your head kissing you on you lips multiple times before dragging them down your

Harry knew you were probably joking but he loved having his way with you and for the last 4 months being on tour the only sort of intimacy you two had was quick fucks in dressing and hotel rooms with being so busy all the time and at night Harry was understandably tired after doing a show. He wanted to dominate the shit out of you tonight and you had just added fuel to the fire, so with no fear of someone walking in on you both he was going to let loose.

He pulls back and releases your arms, ‘strip for my baby, then I want you to sit at the top of the bed with your back against the headboard’ you moaned softly at his words, already putty in his hands and instantly start undressing as he did the same.

Once you were naked, and sat against the headboard you couldn’t help but stare at your boyfriend pulling his t-shirt over his head making his arms flex, your pussy become slick with your wetness as you watched him. Once he freed his cock from the confines of his boxers, he gives his shaft a few tugs trying to relieve some of the building pressure.

‘Jesus, can smell you from here’ he moans crawling up the bed, you legs spreading even more on instinct to give him more room. He lays on his belly once he is closer to you wrapping his arms around your thighs swiftly dragging you so that his face was barely centre metres away from your sopping cunt, you drape you legs over his shoulder heels digging into his back.

‘M’gonna use my mouth and my fingers and I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you squirt everywhere sweet girl’ you squirm in his grip his eyes looking directly into yours. He gives you no warning as he ducks down pressing a kiss directly on your clit, then licking a bold stripe up your entire pussy ‘always to wet for me, you taste just like a strawberry angel.’ You throw your head back, you hands gripping onto the sheets to prepare yourself for what was to come.

He focuses back on your clit flicking his tongue from side to side, he teases a his middle finger round your entrance making you buck your hips ‘patience sweet girl’ he says removing his lips from your clit to suck a hickey onto the inside of your thigh.

‘Feels so so good daddy’ the first words you had spoken except moan after moan since Harry started, your fingers pinching your nipples, he smirks up at the pet name, his cock twitching against the sheets.

He decides to give you his fingers, inserting two at the same time, you whine at how easily they slid into you. He gives no time to adjust curling them into a ‘cone hither’ motion then pumping them in and out going knuckle deep every time hitting spots that you would never have been able to fine with your own, a calloused finger rubbing tight circles around you clit. ‘How good is daddy making you feel, tell me’

‘So f-fucking good, your fingers feel amazing inside me daddy’ you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head as his mouth finds it’s place back on your clit, adding a third finger into you cunt, still thrusting at a delicious pace, You could feel the knot tightening in your belly, but not only that you felt like a balloon was ready to burst within you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, knowing that he loved it when you tugged on his curls, but you also did it so that he wouldn’t pull away and deny you of an orgasm when you were almost falling off the edge.

‘Clenching around my fingers baby, know your gonna cum, stop holding back leg go for me’.

‘Shit daddy, I’m so close’ you cry out

‘Yeah you gonna squirt for me, soak the sheets?’

‘Yes daddy’

‘Go on then, cum for me sweet girl’

You couldn’t hold back any longer, after a few more thrusts of his fingers you let go screaming as you do, the ballon inside you also bursting resulting in you squirting over the lowers portion of Harry’s face and the sheets beneath, he moaned out. Your legs were shaking, your head was thrown back, and your back arched as he continued thrusting his fingers inside of you to ride out your intense orgasm. After a few moments you took in a sharp breath having forgotten how to breathe ‘holy shit daddy’ you barely mustered up, you felt like you were floating in mid air, you don’t think you’ve cum that hard in a very long time.

After a couple of minutes you start to come down from your high, you look at Harry who was still in the same position, his eyes were glazed over in lust ‘that was so fucking hot angel, swear I could’ve cum just right there and then’ he licks your folds cleaning up you up a bit. Harry swore he could spend hours between your legs, he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

Eventually he presses one last kiss on your clit, before blowing air directly onto the small bud, making you squirm at the overstimulation.

He moves up you body, pressing kisses against your skin along the way, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples then blowing air only each in just like he had done to your clit making a shiver run up your spine. He reaches your lips kissing, dipping his tongue into your mouth so that you could taste your juices.

‘Was that good sweet girl’ his words muffled by your lips.

‘Yes daddy, m’kinda sleepy now though’ you say shutting you eyes a lazy smile spreading across your face.

‘No falling asleep on me now, haven’t even fucked you yet, m’cocks leakin’ for you.’

This makes you perk up a bit, now yearning to be filled with Harry’s cock, you had only just come down from your last orgasm but you were ready for another one.

‘Want you to come deep inside of me daddy, want you to fill me up so bad’ you whine.

‘You want my cock baby’

‘Yes please daddy’ you were desperate now.

‘Well since you asked so nicely’ he reaches down tugging his cock a few times spreading pre-cum over his length, before slipping into your warm cunt both of you groaning at the feeling, he thrusts all the way inside you his length stretching your walls deliciously.

‘Ohhh sweet girl, swear you pretty cunt was made for me, can I move now’

‘Yes daddy, you can move’ he instantly complies not being able to stay still any longer. He starts a steady pace pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back in hitting the deepest spots within you. You reach your arms over his shoulders tracing some of his tattoos along the way then gripping onto the soft skin. Whimpers and groans filled the room as Harry buried his face in your neck, your natural scent mixed with your favourite perfume intoxicating him, you take your chance to suck a hickey onto his neck after not having much time to mark him up.

He was fucking into you at a fast pace now, getting lost in pleasure ‘so deep daddy’ you moan. He moved his face from you neck, gripping onto the headboard with one hand to get more leverage, the sight of him above you pounding you into the mattress turned you on even more if that was possible.

‘Daddy can you c-choke me’

His hand flies to your throat gripping it just enough so it restricted you breathing slightly, ‘like that baby, you love it when daddy rough with you, don’t ya’

‘Yes daddy, fucking love it’ you scream as he starts hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

‘Oh shit, daddy’s gonna cum, you gonna cum with me’ he groans hand getting slightly tighter around your throat.

‘I’m gonna cum to daddy, please keep fucking me like that’ your eyes roll into the back of you head you heels looped round his back and crossed at the ankle to keep him as close as possible. His thrusts start to falter and his cock twitches telling you he was about to fall over the edge ‘cum inside me daddy, want you to paint my walls with your cum, please daddy want it soo much’ you whimper also starting to tumble over.

‘Shit I’m cumming’ he growls sheathing into your cunt his cock twitching one last time, his balls resting heavy against the space between your pussy and your tight second hole, he emptied his load inside you, the sensation of his seed filling you up also made you cum, Harry’s grip on your throat giving you a head-rush as you do, you both felt euphoric. After the waves of your release come crashing down in you your body goes limp, you know that you will be sore tomorrow and probably the day after but it was all worth it. Harry’s takes longer to come down from his high, his cum now dripping out of your pussy. ‘You okay bub’ you say sweetly looking up at him.

‘Oh I’m more than okay baby, feel fucking incredible’

He takes his loosened hand off of your throat before resting his body on top of yours, his cock still buried inside of you ‘I take back that last statement about this bed being better than sex’ you whispered breathlessly into his hair stroking through the sweaty curls.

‘You better’ he tiredly laughs into your neck.

[ymiwritesstuff]

A Helping Wing

Quick Revali scenario, I have had this idea for some time now and I’m finally posting it lol. Anyway enjoy soft, worried Revali!

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Revali x Reader

Summary: A trip to Goron City gets an unexpected turn with an even more unexpected reaction from the Rito Champion.

Notes: Injury

The scorching heat that dominated the air on the way to Death Mountain would have been unbearable if it weren’t for the fireproof elixirs you had made well in advance. Still, the hot air had its effect on you as you found yourself wiping tiny beads of sweat from your forehead every now and then as you walked along the rocky path. You could only imagine how the thickly feathered Rito behind you was most likely suffering from the heat much more than you were.

“Remind me again why are we on this absolutely horrendous trip to Goron City in the first place,” Revali complained behind you, eyebrows frowned in annoyance. A part of you knew that this would happen. Knowing him, just about any small nuisance in his way made his beak spill out words of irritation. All you could do was sigh.

“Daruk got seriously injured and Mipha requested us to bring her some supplies so she could heal him faster,” you explained, though had already done so when you initially started your trip to the city. You threw him a quick glance. “Without these, the process could take days.” You lifted the bag on your shoulder that held the herbs and potions the young Zora had asked for. Revali merely scoffed.

“Well, if this is such an important mission, why are we wasting our time on foot when we have two perfectly operational wings right here?” He motioned to his wings with his eyes. “Surely we would get there faster and be done with this cumbersome task.” You let out a laugh, keeping your eyes forward.

“As if you would let me climb on your precious little back,” you mocked. If there was something you knew about Revali is that he had too much pride in, well, everything, so you knew that what he was implying was practically impossible. Even if he was willing to let go of his ego in this rare, inconvenient situation, there was a problem with his idea. “Besides, the herbs would just fly out and burn if we’re that high up.” You turned around to look at him.

“We’re almost there. Just hang in there a little longer."

Revali clicked his tongue but eventually sighed, accepting your words. Despite his exasperation, you were right. Even with the effects of the elixir, flying high surrounded by the hot air would do damage to the precious contents of your bag, but also to him and you. His feathers would probably catch fire and that was the last thing he wanted. So, he continued to walk behind you, muttering miffed words under his breath.

As you pressed on under the extreme temperature, something quickly caught your eye. You stopped and Revali looked at you, raising his brow in confusion before your voice came through.

“Bokoblins.” You nodded towards the creatures. “Four of them.” They danced around as they usually did without a care in the world. The Rito crossed his wings.

“Nothing you can’t handle,” he stated, his words making you look at him in bewilderment.

“Me? Are you not going to help?” You purposely kept your voice down, as the Bokoblins hadn’t yet detected either of you. Your question was met with a smug smirk that stretched the edges of his beak.

“I am rather exhausted from this awful heat, and I’d rather let you do the honors, seeing as you seem to be quite determined in getting to the city in the first place.” You couldn’t believe his words. Revali was many things, but lazy was something you could have never expected. There was the possibility that he was telling the truth, but the pompous grin on his face made you doubt this. However, he was right in saying that defeating a few Bokoblins was no difficult task.

“Fine,” You spat and tossed the bag of supplies at him before grabbing your bow, a part of you regretting the decision to ask him to come with you in the first place. “I really hate you, you know?” Revali held the bag and took a few steps back, the smirk never fading from his face.

“The feeling is mutual.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned away from him, your eyes gluing themselves on your target. The Bokoblins were in a nice little pile, so taking them out would be easy. However, you could feel Revali’s judging eyes boring into your back, watching your every move. At this point, you thought that he may have abstained from helping you just to see how you would do with the bow and then possibly mock you for an incorrect technique only he could see.  

You shook the thought away. Now was not the time to worry about Revali’s judgment. Your only task was to bring the supplies to Mipha and not pay attention to his foolishness. Still, in the back of your mind, some part of you wanted to impress him for whatever reason, so you attempted to take all of the Bokoblins out at once.

Revali watched as you prepared for your attack, that arrogant smirk still apparent. His eyes watched as you gripped the bow, how you tested the string and how you finally grabbed an arrow from your quiver and-

Suddenly, his expression changed to a panicked one as his widened eyes noticed the grave mistake you had made that took the form of the arrow you had chosen: A bright red, sizzling bomb arrow.

Revali quickly jumped into the air and grabbed the back of your shirt with his talons, pulling you away from the massive explosion caused by the arrow and the surrounding air. Your eyes widened at the blast, and you instinctively shielded yourself with your arms as you were pulled back before feeling your back slam against an armored chest.

The Rito stumbled back and fell to the rocky ground, softening your fall by having you land on his chest. The sound rang in your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut and only opened them once you couldn’t feel the heat of the flames any longer. You blinked and looked at your burned bow that laid on the ground, the Bokoblins fleeing the sight, frightened by the loud noise. It had all happened so fast, you only realized your mistake when Revali opened his beak:

“Are you out of your mind?!” He yelled behind you, voice filled with anger and concern. “You could have gotten both of us killed! How could you possibly think using a bomb arrow at a place like this was a good idea?!” You slowly stood up, still shaken by the accident.

“Are you truly that foolish? That you don’t know that a bomb arrow will explode as soon as it makes contact with the hot air?”

Of course you knew. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even realized that you had grabbed a bomb arrow and now you were scolded by your stupid mistake. Your eyes found the ground below you, embarrassment settling in your stomach. “I’m sorry... I just... I didn’t even realize,” You said, trying to somehow explain your actions, though you were more taken aback by his reaction. You had never heard him use his voice in such a manner.

A sigh left Revali’s beak as he tried to calm himself down. Truthfully, he didn’t fully know why he reacted in such a fiery manner.

“You’re hurt,” he finally said. You looked up at him and saw his eyes glued to your arm. Then you felt the burning pain on it. A significant piece of fabric from your sleeve was burned, the jagged hole revealing your reddened skin that sent waves of pain and discomfort throughout the rest of your arm. You hissed in pain and grabbed the abused area with your other hand.

You noticed Revali grabbing something from a bag of his own and motioning you to sit on a rock conveniently placed on the side of the road. You took his offer and sat down, fighting back tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. You glanced at Revali, who carried a white, jiggly blob of... something in his wing while walking towards you.

“What is that?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the unknown substance.

“White Chuchu jelly.” Revali kneeled beside you, expression neutral, rid of any signs of arrogance or judgment. “It should help with the burn,” he stated, pressing the jelly on the surface of your arm, the cool temperature of it immediately easing your pain. You let out a shaky breath.

“Why do you even have that?” You were unable to look at him, something inside you making your stomach churn. You felt his wings wrapping a bandage around your arm, the jelly staying on your skin.

“Well, I would have used it to cool myself off, but it appears that you need it more than I do after that ridiculous stunt you pulled.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance.

“I said I didn’t realize what I was doing I just-”

“Didn’t pay attention,” he interrupted. You were about to argue but after realizing that he was correct, you let out a heavy sigh instead. Revali finished wrapping your wound and stood up, briefly glancing at your destroyed bow.

“What a waste,” he sighed, walking back to the bags, relieved to see the supplies still intact. You stood up, looking at your bandaged arm and then at him. Despite his somewhat rude and cocky exterior, he apparently cared about you enough to at least tend to your wound when he technically didn’t need to. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, Revali.”

The Rito briefly stopped what he was doing, likely processing your words. You couldn’t see his face, so his expression was left a mystery. He on the other hand was grateful you didn’t witness the feathers on his face puff up ever so slightly. The accident startled him more than he would have liked to admit and was grateful that he was able to pull you out in time.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he finally said, regaining his usual attitude. He stood up and picked both bags up from the ground.

“We haven’t reached our destination yet and I clearly misjudged your abilities, who knows what ridiculous mistake you might make next.” For the first time, you let out a tiny laugh at his words, following him as he began walking.

“Well, I guess asking for your assistance in this little task of mine wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.”

Revali chuckled and shook his head at your words, his usual arrogance embedded in his response:

“Oh, (Name).” His glimmering eyes glanced at you, smirk once again decorating his features.  

“What would you do without me?”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 22 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.

He was in the Nightless City, which was.

“How…?”

“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”

Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”

Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”

Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.

“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”

“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”   

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”

That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them. 

He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.

Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”

“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”

He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth. 

“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”

Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”

He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.

“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”

“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”

Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.

“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”

Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”

“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”

The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”

Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”

Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.

Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”

“Don’t apologize.”

Lan Qiren stopped.

Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.

“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.

Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”

“…the latter is more polite.”

“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”

“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”

Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…

“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”

“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”

“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”

“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”

“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”

“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”

“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.

Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?

He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.

He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.

It would be better to compromise.

And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.

For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.

He’d have to find a way to do both.

So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.

It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.

“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”

“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”

“You have no sense of proportion!”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”

Lan Qiren scowled.

“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”

Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…

“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”

“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”

Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.

Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.

Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.

“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.

It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time. 

The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.

He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.

“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”

“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”

Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”

Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”

“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”

He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.

It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.

His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.

“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”

“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”

“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”

“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”

Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”

When they parted that night, all was well.

The peace did not last until morning.

[authoressofdarkness]

I saw that you're taking prompts, from the dialogue list. Can I get number 20? “I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.” for starker obviously. I'm excited, I love reading your works. Thank you in advance!

Hi anon! That means so much to me and I’m v glad to be taking this as my first prompt. Thank you 💙

I kinda want to try some new things with some of these prompts, so I’m gonna go at this with omega Tony and alpha Peter and see where it goes. I hope that’s okay with you anon and that everyone likes it 😘

Same age college AU, omegaverse, alpha Peter Parker, omega Tony Stark, some angst and some fluff at the end.

—

It’s a well known fact that Tony Stark has a shitty family.

Well, at least to anyone who knows him, it is. They know how he’ll do anything to not be at home when his father is around, to get out of the endless pressures of social events and promotional things and questions of mating and management and all of the things that he hated about being born an omega and being attached to the last name Stark to top it all off—

For years, it was just him. Some flings, mainly to piss his father off, but he never had his attention for longer than the time it took to scold him or order him around, and his mother was never much help, either. He had precious few friends growing up, never really made any real ones until college when he met Rhodey and Pepper — an alpha and a beta respectively that helped him manage things there and that were the first people to truly understand the depths of struggles he had going on at home.

And they were great friends, still are, but there was never anything more there between them. They helped him float through the first year of school, and then—

And then came Peter Parker.

Tony doesn’t hate all alphas on principle, although he is often rather tempted to try to, what with how they were shoved in his face most of his life. They were great for a good fling but most of them were meatheads. As horny as Tony was, he couldn’t allow just anyone to be close to him, nothing too get to serious, because he’s got a lot of responsibility coming down to him and he needs the right partner — alpha or otherwise — to be willing to deal with that. Not that he’s particularly interested in mating right now but he also isn’t going to allow someone close enough to potentially mark him knowing the repercussions of that.

He’s the heir to Stark Industries, sure, but he’s still an omega. An alpha will have significant legal power over him once they’re mated. And he wants to be the one to run SI, to take on his legacy, to build, to create, and to run his business, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, even if that means flings forever.

(Not that that’s legally going to fly because he can’t take over until he’s considered qualified which implies a certain amount of stability that translates into having an alpha that’s more than just a fuck buddy but—)

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters after he meets Peter.

Peter is a year younger than him in school, technically, but biologically they’re the same age. Peter just started a bit later than most — and for good reasons, as Tony comes to find out.

He’s in one of Tony’s engineering classes and his organic chemistry class and the omega would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately taken with him.

He can’t help it. Peter is cute, with his overgrown curls and slim form and silky skin and shy little smile and—

The other man is all alpha, there’s no doubt about it. He exudes it without even trying, but there’s a shyness to him, too. He’s not a meathead; he’s a sweetheart. From day one he’s respectful of Tony in class, kind when he sees him around campus, and that makes them the perfect lab partners in chemistry, and after knowing that, it’s just the natural choice for them to partner for the project in engineering and then—

Then things spiral, and Tony doesn’t even care.

He’s seeking the alpha’s attention, and Peter, the innocent, shy thing he is, is happy to give, to dote on Tony in ways that he would resist if they were coming from anyone else.

They’re not even fucking, but it’s intimate, so intimate that he can’t even explain it, and he loves it, scarily so. It both soothes and sets all his instincts on edge at the same time.

By mid semester they both have keys to come and go freely from each other’s rooms. It’s more common to see them together than it is to ever spot one of them out alone. The whole school probably thinks they’re a couple, and even though they’ve never made it official — and he’s never allowed himself to even come close to considering it before — Tony can’t bring himself to mind.

As midterms approach, though, Tony locks himself in to focus on his work. He doesn’t mean to, really; it’s just that hours studying slip into full nights and then he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t left the room, even missing one of his classes because he doesn’t realize the time.

Peter hasn’t come by in days and except for the occasional check in text, Tony hasn’t heard from him, either. But they’re both busy with midterms so he really isn’t surprised. In fact he barely has time to eat, let alone check his phone, so even if he was texting him regularly Tony probably wouldn’t be answering.

Except mid terms or no, of course Peter notices when Tony misses class. And when his texts go unanswered by the absorbed omega, he doesn’t hesitate to show up and let himself in.

Tony doesn’t even realize anyone is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps so hard he nearly knocks the chair back, and when he turns around he sees Peter, stepping back and holding his hands up in the universal “I surrender” gesture, clearly not having meant to startle him.

“I’m sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer so I let myself in. I just— you weren’t in class, and I was worried… are you okay? When was the last time you ate?” It takes all of two seconds for Peter’s sheepishness to melt into concern, and he steps forward again, closing the distance between them to tilt Tony’s chin up, looking at the shadow stretching across his jaw where he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over Tony’s cheekbone tenderly — which, yeah, is definitely more prominent than it was at the beginning of the week.

Tony’s eyes flutter and he leans into the touch for a moment before refocusing and shaking it off. “I’m fine. This is normal, Peter. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“It’s Saturday—“

“It’s Monday, Tony. 1pm on Monday, at that. You missed engineering this morning and you haven’t answered my texts all weekend.” Surprise flits across Tony’s face at that, because — yeah, last time he checked it was Saturday, and he had no new texts from Peter, so— “When was the last time you ate?” Peter continues to prod, voice gentle but insistent.

Both aspects only serve to spark irritation in him, though. Tony bats Peter’s hand away from his face, frowning. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “I ate a little while ago. I’m fine.”

“You don’t even know what day it is—“

“It all kind of blurs together when you’re not doing anything besides working, okay—“

“Two days is a lot of blur, Tony—“

“And just because I need a shave doesn’t mean I haven’t left my desk or that this isn’t totally normal for midterms—“

“You’re the one saying you haven’t left your desk, not me—“

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying—“

“I’m just saying you need to take a short break, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“I don’t need a break, I know my limits—“

“Tony, I really don’t think—“

“Jesus fucking— You’re not my alpha, Parker, would you fuck off?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and he flinched himself at the hurt on Peter’s face, the way the alpha physically recoils, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not— god, I know that, okay? I’m just trying to help you, Tony. Please, this isn’t sustainable. You need to eat. Just— let me find you something, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Leave? No, he doesn’t want him to leave. But the only thing that comes out is a quiet “whatever,” and he watches Peter escape to the kitchen with a ball of guilt growing in his chest.

Peter is just trying to help. He likes Peter and he doesn’t want him to leave, he just— he panics, and then he snaps.

Because what if Peter wants more? What if he really likes him? And Tony is a fuck up that does shit like this when he feels emotions and has so much baggage attached to being with him and—

And Peter knows that, at least some of it. It’s been a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, now, and his family situation was never a secret.

So why is he still here? Oh god, did Tony just ruin it?

The thought, for reasons that he’s refusing to immediately think about, is almost too much to bear. He stands up, fumbling his way out of the chair and into the kitchen.

The smell hits him almost as soon as he enters, and he sucks in a deep breath. His traitorous stomach growls, loud and demanding.

Soup bubbles on the stove as Peter works at the counter, chopping up some fruits and vegetables. He’s already managed to put a few little storage containers of food together for him, and something in Tony’s gut feels warm at the sight. But it also drops — preparing premade meals most certainly means that Peter isn’t intending to come back.

He looks up when Tony enters, expression wary. “The soup was the quickest thing you had, and since I had to be here for as long as it takes to boil anyway I thought I would just—“

“Peter.” His own voice sounds remarkable calm for how shaky he suddenly feels, lurching towards the alpha at the countertop. “It’s okay. I… thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks taken aback by the apology. “Tony, you don’t have to apologize. You’re right; I’m not your alpha and it’s not my place to give you orders. I just… I care about you, okay? I just want to help. I know you don’t think about me that way, and I’m sorry I overstepped, but—“

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” The words draw Peter up short.

Tony takes a breath, looking down. He focuses on the alpha’s hands, watching him chop instead of looking at his face. It’s easier. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t think of you that way. The problem is… that I do. And I… I’m not used to this. I’ve never had someone take care of me before. Not really, not in any way that mattered. And what I feel for you… it scares me.” He takes a little breath again, looking down at his own hands. “I want you to be my alpha, Peter. But I’m not really a good omega, and I just have so much shit that comes along with being with me. The thought of asking you to do that… what that could do to us… I just don’t think I could handle that.”

He hears the knife ting against the countertop as Peter sets it down, and the pitter patter of footsteps as the alpha crosses the room. He’s suddenly being drawn into a pair of lanky but surprisingly strong arms, surrounded by the musky, relaxing scent of alpha, and he practically melts into it, nestling his nose into the spot between the collar of Peter’s sweatshirt and his throat almost automatically.

Peter’s hand running up and down his back is soothing, relaxing him the rest of the way, and the press of the alpha’s chin against his head is just the perfect weight to be comfortable, reassuring.

“Tony… I’m not an idiot,” he says gently. “I know who you are. What you’ve done, where you came from, what’s expected of you — and yeah, I’m sure there’s more that you haven’t told me and that’s not public, but— I get why this is a struggle for you, and why you feel the need to put so much pressure on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you for that and it is most definitely not your own fault that you’re not used to being taken care of. And you’ve no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted to be your alpha.” He pulls back a little to look down at him, fingers scratching Tony’s scalp gently as he works his fingers through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that this kind of behavior — towards yourself or others — is good or acceptable. It’s okay to let me take care of you — at least in small ways. I know you’re scared of losing your independence, but that’s not what I want for you, either. I just want to help.”

“Help,” Tony echoes, eyes drifting to the pan on the stove and then back to Peter. “I… I think I’d like that.” He bites his lip, looking up at him. They’re about the same size and height, but this close, wrapped in the alpha’s arms and scent, with his steady gaze on him, he can’t help but feel small by comparison. “You really want to be my alpha?”

“Only if you want me to be, but…” Peter looks down at him and cracks his shy little smile. “I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“I’d like that,” Tony admits. He shifts to press up against him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d also really like it if you’d kiss me.”

Peter looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly. Still, he shakes his head, giving him a little push back. “Tony, you didn’t even know what day it was. God knows when the last time you brushed your teeth is. No offense, but… ew.”

Tony just laughs a little, unable to help himself. “If I brush my teeth…?”

“Maybe. If you eat your food as well.” Peter moves back to the counter, finishing up the container he was working on. “We can’t be doing anything that’s going to burn you extra calories when you don’t have enough to begin with, hm?”

Tony finds himself grinning. “That’s an argument I can get behind. Literally and metaphorically.”

Peter flashes a grin in return, voice back to that gentle but insistent tone that he knows so well when he says, “Go, Tony.”

And for once, Tony is all too happy to obey.

[levis-pink-tea]

Traitor

chapter two

summery: it has been a little over 5 years since you left Marley and since wall maria fell. now as your friends fight for their lifes in Trost your doing all you can to get back and help save them. 

It's been two years since your friends started as cadets. Today was supposed to be an amazing day for them. The 104th cadets had just graduated. You were able to watch all of them come so far since they began training.  Each One of them was strong and had the ability to be in any regiment. You were surprised when most of them had told you they wanted to join the Military police. You knew even if Eren was the top of his class he'd join you. He had a goal and he needed to be a scout to succeed. When you had overheard that Annie wanted to join the MP you feared for your new found home. The armor and colossal may be strong but the female titan is equally as strong especially when it comes to speed. You could remember the training back in Marley and how Annie could always outrun you so you trained and trained to get faster until one day you finally did pass her.

 Yet in her eyes you never stopped running. You kept going all the way to the enemy. The truth was when it came to you Annie she wasn't cold or distant. She was kinder to you and more open. You were like her sister. She didn't get why you left her there or why you just kept running from her.

It had been so long since you thought about that training so why were you thinking of it now of all times? You were putting your saddle on your horse so you could leave on a reconnaissance mission. “Y/n are you okay your crying?” Petra said as she walked over to you to hand your reins. You didn't know when you started crying or why. You dried your tears and took the reins from Petra ``yeah i’m okay I just thought of a friend who I haven't talked to for a while” you said sipping the leather on to your horse. She rubbed your back a little and asked if you wanted to talk about it “im okay Petra don't worry. I just think my friend is pretty mad at me.”  you walked alongside her leading your horses out of the stables and to the captain and the commander. As Erwin gave you all your orders you couldn't help but wonder if Annie really did hate you for leaving. Deep down you hoped she didn't or that at least one day she'd understand why you left.

As the scouts rode down to the gates you were riding between Hange and Levi. Scanning the crowds of people you searched for your friends and smiled when your eyes were met with Armin’s blue ones. You waved to them and promised to yourself that when you got home you'd congratulate all of them for graduating last night.

Levi had grumbled something about what someone from the crowd said. You didn't pay any mind to the dark haired man's grumbling until Hange told Levi to lighten up. “Oh Hange, leave the captain be you know no matter what his fans love that scary scowl he's too pretty to be scary to them” you said with a giggle. You weren't wrong anytime you were with Levi and someone said something about him; it always seemed to be comments about how strong he is or how handsome he is.  

Levi glared at you for your comment “can you two not act like the same person we only need one abnormal not two Y/n” he said as he turned away from you two.

 “Did he just call you a abnormal?” you asked Hange

 “yes yes he did”

“Rude”

Your mission wasn't going perfect or anything but it wasn't going horrible either. As expected many soldiers fell. You were in Hange’s section, always there to assist her or any comrades. You could fly around like Levi and take titans down like him too. Hange always thought you were like Levi in many ways not just because of your strength but because you felt strongly about all the  fallen soldiers you knew much like her did. But you were quick witted and smark like Erwin and in many ways you were like her as well. As you flew around a corner taking down a titan you told the two soldiers behind you to take down the ones behind the one you were going for. It was at times like this that Hange saw all of them in you and how they helped shape you into who you are. You were truly strong and one day she could see you being a commander like Erwin.

You thought you'd be out on this mission much longer but Erwin rode up to where you were and said you were pulling out and going back to the walls. “Titans are attacking the wall just like they did five years ago” Erwin said as you got on to your horse and went to Levi to get him and his squad as well.

As you rode back to the wall you began to feel sick. You were worried for your friends and god were you mad at the ones you used to call friends. You didn't understand how they could do this. They made friends here and made friends with the other scouts who they now were killing. You knew that this had to be their doing there was no other way trost could fall.

“y/n '' Erwin said as he let his horse slow down slightly to ride next to you. “Everything will be alright.” you didn't think you could see the panic on your face but then again Erwin knew you best. Maybe he just knew you were thinking about your friends. 

“I'm just concerned Commander,” you said, looking ahead of you. Trost was still quite far away. “I know  they're strong but I cherish them.” ''You're scared. You're acting just like you did during your first mission, ``Erwin said looking ahead of him. He started to remember that first mission. You were scared as could be and on the way back you rode on the back of Erwins horse. You could remember crying and hiding your face in his back so none of the others could hear your sobbing. Only you knew why you were truly crying. Your home did this to all those people. All those titans you had watched eat people and kill those soldiers were people once too. 

That night you spent in Hange’s room as she tried to help calm you. You cried to her about how you wished you could have saved them. Your comrades and anyone that have died because of the titans. 

 “Do I look that sacred?” you asked. The commander nodded as you took a deep breath. ‘They'll be alright’ you thought to yourself and loosened your grip on your reins not realizing how tight you were holding them until then. 

“Your friends are strong. I'm sure they'll be okay. I hear a few of them want to join us” Erwin’s horse began to pick up pace and so did yours. You could almost always be found riding back by Erwin or Petra. Petra had become like your sister and you held her dearly so riding back with her was comforting. It was the same when it came to Erwin as well. He was like a father to you.   You nodded and told him about how it's always been Eren’s goal to be a scout, how Mikasa was fast and strong like Levi and how Armin is a lot like him.  The two of you spoke in a hush tone for most of the ride back.

As you all approached the walls you did all you could to calm yourself. The hole that you saw was definitely done by the colossal you didn't understand Bertholdt but right now understanding him was your last priority. Right now all that mattered was saving the people. You'd have to try and understand them later. 

“Prepare yourself soldiers!” Erwin shouted. You heard Levi approach you. “Y/n follow me” he said, shooting himself over the wall. You followed right after standing on the back of your horse and shooting yourself over while the others went to another entrance to Wall Rose in order to join the rest of the garison and help save everyone. 

When you came over the wall out of the corner of your eye you saw the three you grew up with ripping something off of someone you had assumed that maybe their gear was damaged and they were taking a lost comrades to help them survive. That when you heard it. You heard yelling and watched as the three of them ran away from a now defenseless person. You debated going to the person but saw a titan coming near. You knew you couldn't save them no matter how badly you wanted to.

You landed on top of the boulder that was now placed in the wall to close the large hole. Levi took down two titans as you noticed your friends. sliding down the boulder yelling for them “Mikasa! Armin!” landing safely on your feet you ran to them“where's Eren?”  Armin lifted the boy a little to show you they had him. your eyes widened as you looked behind you then back at Armins arms. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding’ you thought. Grisha was a disgusting man. He did this to his son and you were just now realizing it. The mission that the three Marleyan’s were sent on was a mission to get Eren. “fuck” you mumbled quietly as Levi landed on top of a dead titan and told them to explain what hes looking at. 

 This couldn't be happening. Eren, one of your best friends, had been forced to be a titan shifter by his dad. What kind of man would do that to his son? When Eren was taken somewhere by the military police you decided to look for your other friends. When you found them all you were relieved that they were okay. You thought all of them were at least. You scanned the group again realizing someone was missing. You found all of them except Marco. Your heart sank. Maybe he was just injured or not nearby. You hoped and prayed the soldier you didn't go to try and save wasn't Marco. Yet after all the remaining titans in Trost were killed your heart broke as you found out it was Marco that they killed.

You didn't want to be the ones to find Marcos' body. But here you were standing next to Jean as he began to shake. You could barely understand jeans mumbling. “Jean, breathe please” you said, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. You looked over to the lady who was now asking for his name. Once Jean had told her and she walked away you wrapped your arms around Jean hugging him tightly. He didn't say anything and neither did you. He  wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you tightly. Marco was one of his best friends and he is gone now.

You decided to leave Jean with Connie and went looking for the three people you used to be so close with. You saw Annie staring at the ground and you tighten your hand into a fist and approached her as Reiner and Bertholdt walked over to her not knowing you were right there. “Leonhart!!” you shouted approaching the blonde. When her eyes met yours she was met with a look that was filled with anger. “You fucking bitch!” you shouted as you took a swing at her.

The hit never landed as Reiner caught your fist before you could hit Annie. “All three of you are horrible fucking people!” you shouted as you pulled your fist away from Reiner. “Y/n what are you talking about?” he asked as trying to approach you but you wouldn't let him get too close. You pulled away when he reached for you.

“How dare you! You killed Marco and god knows how many soldiers! You have no right to stand there and wear those jackets! Do you know how many people's blood is on all three of your hands? To many to fucking count!” luckily for them no one was around to hear your shouting. Reiner reached for you again trying to get you to stop yelling. You slapped his hand away “dont fucking touch me Reiner none of you fucking touch me” you looked over to Behrtolt “ and you how dare you break those walls! What the hell is wrong with you!!”

You of all people knew this was part of their mission. You should have been in Annie's shoes originally. You were supposed to be the female titan who was trying to go after Eren. Not her. Annie knew you knew she just didn't get why you were so upset. “Will you stop yelling y/n '' she said walking towards you.

You took a step back “I said dont touch me Annie.” you spat at her. Reiner grabbed one of your small hands with his  large one. “You know this is part of our mission Y/n'' Reiner knew he'd never be seen the same way by you now.  He was just trying to grab you to hug you. They killed Marco and it hurt him. He was friends with Marco and he helped kill him. It hurt. You could tell he regretted it but didn't care. 

“Don't you dare say my name you traitor” you said before looking at the other two marleyans “you are all murderers. I hope you know you killed an innocent boy and ruined the lives of hundreds of families even if you did take down any titans you're still murders” you said as you walked away in tears. You heard Reiner screaming your name and trying to follow you “stop following me Reiner or so help me god”

He grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away “no you disappeared for 2 years and those are the first words you say to all of us? It's been 5 damn years. Your marleyan to you know we had to. You killed titans y/n doesn't that make you just as bad as us?” 

“I may be marelyan but I'm nothing like you. You're the one who wouldn't go with me, you're the one who broke wall rose and my heart. You and those other two are the reason most of what they know as humanity is dead. You're the reason my friend is dead right now. I don't want to talk to you ever again. Leave me alone Reiner” you tried to yank your arm away but his grip was too strong.  “No i won't just leave you alone dammit come back home with us” you tried again to pull away from him “i'm never going back” you said as you slapped him. The red hand print forming on Reiner's face started to sting.

“Let her go Reiner , she doesn't want to talk to you so get your hands off her” Jean said as he and Connie began to walk over to you four. You hoped they hadn't heard too much of what you said. You may hate those three but  you feared Jean would hate you too if he knew. He smirked under the bandana wrapped around his face as he noticed the red hand print on reiners face.

Connie chuckled a little “damn she must have hit you hard” he said removing one of his long gloves and drying off your cheeks. You started crying again at some point. “Come on jean lets go” he said as he started to walk away with you. Jean shot Reiner a death stare for a moment before following after you two. 

“You okay y/n?” Jean asked as he wrapped an arm around you.  You nodded softly as the three of you walked somewhere you could sit and drink water. While the three of you sat you rested your head on Connie's shoulder as he ran his hand through your hair. It made you smile that those two were so kind to you and that they would do whatever they could to comfort you. 

That night you ate dinner with the now graduated cadets. You made sure to congratulate all of them. You gave Armin a little longer of a hug then everyone else. He was still so shaken up and he was worried about Eren. He had been taken into custody almost immediately.  Mikasa was shaken up but not like Armin was. When you congratulated Jean and Connie you gave them both a little kiss on the cheek as a thank you. You didn't notice the light blush on their cheeks. 

The following day the commander knocked on your door wanting to speak with you. When you heard the knock and opened the door you were a little concerned to why Erwin was there and so was levi. “Hi Erwin hi Levi” you said, setting down the book you were reading and letting them in.

They both sat at a little table in your room while you sat on your bed. “y/n we need to ask you some questions about doctor Yeager '' Erwin said  looking at you he seemed more serious than any other time the two of you talked. They spent quite a while speaking to you about Grisha and what you knew about the family. You didn't know much about him or what he did but you knew he had secrets and that not even Eren knew those secrets no one did other than Grisha. 

It was a few days later when you saw Erwin and Levi again they were walking past your room. You followed after them “Commander Erwin can I go with you and captain Levi to speak with Eren today” you asked approaching the two men.

The commander looked at you. When your eyes meet his blue ones you are met with a look that asks you for forgiveness. “I’m sorry y/n but I can’t allow that. Only Captain Levi and I can go'' you frowned softly as he spoke. You just want to ensure he was okay but you understood that because of what happened you can’t accompany them. 

“Is it alright if I go check on my other friends then?” You looked the shorter of the two and smiled softly as he nodded a quick yes. “Thanks guys let me know if erens okay please?”  Erwin smiled softly at you and nodded. He had seen you go through quite a bit so seeing you smile always made him feel a little happier. You had grown so much since they had saved you. All of them notice your growth. 

You couldn't find Hange that day either so you decided to spend the day with your friends from the 104th. Well at least the ones you could find Armin and Mikasa were nowhere to be found either.

You found the group after about 20 minutes of search and walked over to them “hey guys” you said sitting next to Sasha. “I brought a snack to share but don't tell captain Levi '' you took the treat out of your pocket and split it between you,Sasha, Jean, Connie, Christa and Ymir.

The group of cadets kept you distracted for most the day at least until you found out Eren's trial was today. That's why the commander wouldn't let you go see him. Even if he could let you, he was in the hands of the military police, not the scouts. You were glad to hear that Eren got placed in the custody of the scouts. Petra was the one who told you Eren got placed in their custody.

You spent days thinking about the memory you had about Annie. You had finally remembered why you started to cry that day. The day you finally started to beat Annie when you were training as kids was the day you two started to lose your connection. You kept beating her and the more you did the bigger the wall between the two of you got. 

“Annie come on race me please” you begged the blonde as you tried to get her to run with you instead of training with Bertholdt. “Fine but if i beat you i get the treat your mom packed you” she said. The two of you took off after that and before Bertholdt knew it you made it back before Annie.

That was so long ago now you were 10 when that happened and never thought it would have ruined your friendship. While you loved your friendship with her you were okay with it being gone now. Now you had Christa and Sasha to be your new friends so maybe things aren't all that bad.

It wasn long after that when you were able to see Eren again. Eren and Hange got to where the two titans known as Sawney and Bean where spouse to be being held but once they arrived both titans had been killed. You saw Eren with his hood up and waved to him a little. He didn't seem to be mad or anything, just confused. You were just glad to see he was safe.

You waited for your friends while they got their ODM gear checked to see who killed Sawney and Bean. so much was happening for them today. Not only did their ODM gear have to be checked today and they had to choose a regiment. Once all their gear was checked you walked with them to their headquarters and said goodbye for the day. You'd see them that night. They all seemed so distant and hurt but you knew these past few days were so hard. 

That night as Erwin stepped on to the stage to speak to the cadets you stood right beside him. Erwin was always so good with speeches and you knew even this speech despite what had happened a week ago he'd be able to pull some people to join the scouts. You just didn't expect him to bring up going on a mission to Eren's childhood home. You held up a map as Erwin spoke about one of your next missions. 

When Erwin said that anyone who wished to join other regiments may leave, you were surprised to see all of your friends standing in front of all of you. Jean didn't tell you he was going to join the scouts no one did. You knew Connie was going to. You were the first person he told before you went on your mission. Everyone who was in the top had wanted to join the MP that's what they told you yet here they were. “Well commander these numbers are much better than we thought aren't they?” you said before saluting with him. “Yes, these are much better numbers than expected.”

You weren't happy they all joined you knew what being a scout meant. Anytime you left the walls there was no promise you'd come back alive. You knew though that they'd do everything in their power to come back alive and so would you.  A few days later as you  watched your friends put on the scout uniforms brought you many feelings, dread, hope, fear, comfort and hope. You knew that they could save humanity and change the world. 

[mendesbadrepuation]

The Way You Comfort Me // Peter Parker🕷

Peter Parker x female reader

Description: Recently your best friends have grown apart from you and you have been really upset over the situation. Lucky for you Peter is there to comfort you.

Warnings: it’s a little sad in the beginning but the ending is overly fluffy and handsomely cute! Not even slightly proofread lolol 

••••••••

“Hey! How come you look all down in the dumps today?” Peter breaks you from your thoughts as his hand waves in front of your face. You snap your eyes in his direction and you knew you could see the way he was concerned for you. You also knew he could see the way your eyes glossed over with tears.

“It’s not really important. We should get back to studying.” You reply quickly and avert your eyes back to the book on the table. You absentmindedly tapped the pen in your hand against the notebook you were using to take notes.

“No. It’s important to me. I don’t like to see you upset like this.” Peter reaches his hand out to gently stop the tapping of your pen. When you look up into his eyes they were soft and gentle. Just like everything about him. He was the purest soul to you and you got lucky he stumbled across your path. Even luckier he became your best friend and lover.

You and Peter were friends before. In high school you two were study partners a lot. You two really worked well together. One night you and Ned barged into his room on a rant about an assignment and you saw him in his Spider-Man suit. It was completely an accident and ever since then you knew about his secret. And ever since that day you have kept that special secret. You earned his trust very fast. Which led you to a relationship you never saw come but every day you are thankful for.

“Rachel and Addy didn’t invite me to go with them on the annual beach trip. They haven’t invited me to anything in the last couple of months. I think our friendship is ancient history.” You explain to him with a frown very evident on your face.

Rachel and Addy have been your best friends since middle school. You’ve known Addy since kindergarten even. You went through many stages of life with those girls and it was something that a lot of friendships went through. You grow up, you meet new people, you simply fade away. In your mind though, you thought it wouldn’t happen with those two. You cared for them dearly and that friendship. After several attempts of asking to hang out with them and they both decline every time you gave up.

At first you just let it go and thought it would fizzle out. You’d be back to normal within the next week. A week turned into a month. You were so busy with school that it never hit you until here recently. You were making your last stitch effort. Once you realized they were going on the beach trip without you, that’s how you knew it was over.

Peter looks at you sadly. “I know how much they mean to you. Maybe this was a sign and you never know. You all could pick right back up like nothing ever happened.” He tries to help with the situation.

“I don’t know Pete. I think we may be growing apart.” The words get choked up in your throat. It was hard to think and now even harder to say out loud.

He frowns at your response. “I think we’ve had enough studying for today. Let’s go back to my place and cuddle.” His hand lands on your thigh under the table in a comforting way. You look up into his eyes slowly nodding in agreement.

“I don’t want to worry May though.” You say.

He shakes his head. “Not to worry. Her and Happy are on an overnight trip. It will be just us.”

You lightly scoff. “Happy and May are getting closer.”

“Yeah! Yeah! Don’t remind me!” Peter shuts his eyes shaking his head in denial. “I don’t like to think about it.”

You two pack up your things and walk out of the university library holding hands. As you walked through campus you tried not to think about the issue playing repeat in your head. Every time you thought about losing your best friends you felt that ache in your heart. Losing friends is hard and it’s a different kind of loss you are never prepared for.

“The leaves are starting to change. It’s so pretty.” You say and your eyes wonder around the trees on campus. You wanted to think about other things.

“Pretty like you.” Peter cheekily replies. You instantly blush and playfully roll your eyes.

“Thank you.” You reply. Peter was smirking at you from your reaction. He loved seeing you blush from something he does or says to you. Just let’s him know he has that affect on you.

The walk to the subway was mostly just you two talking about anything but your situation. He knew that you would fully talk about it when you were ready. The rest of the way to his apartment Peter done his best to cheer you up. He would tell you corny jokes or do playful little things to keep a smile on your face. He was simply your person. Only he knew how to make you feel better in times like this.

Shortly after arriving to his place you got into his clothes. A pair of his sweats and his hoodie. Immediately you were feeling more comforted being wrapped up in his scent. He saw the way your expressions become more calm. His heart swelled seeing how much peace it brought you. He was your safe haven as you were his.

He picks you up and places you in his lap so he can cuddle you. You had the hood up over your head and he lets you nuzzle your head between his neck. He was extra warm from those added super powers running through his bloodstream. It truly came in handy on days like these. When you contently sigh into his neck it felt like his heart was smiling.

“As much as this sucks. I’m glad I have you.” You mumble in a soft tone.

“You always have me.” He whispers back. His hand that was wrapped around your back softly rubbed your worries away. You place a delicate kiss on his neck and he simply thought he was going to melt. He hated you being sad but boy was he grateful he got to be the one to comfort you, to hold you.

The rest of the night was spent with you in his arms. He would switch with rubbing your back to playing with your hair and even little kisses all over your face. Anything he could do to make you feel better, he did it. Eventually you talked through it with a little advice from him. It was hard coming to the realization of what was happening. He knew how strong you were and that you would get through this little milestone with ease.

You fell asleep with your head resting on his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. One of the many things you like to do when you’re with him. Peter had an idea to make you feel even better in the morning. He hoped it would help you start your day with a smile. When the weather was changing and the mornings were colder there was something about the sunrises. They were different. There was always brighter pinks and oranges on display. Peter remembers how you love to watch them.

He woke up right on time to carry you out on his fire escape. You were really tired from the crying and overall stress the situation caused. Him moving around didn’t really phase you until you felt the cold morning air hit your face.

“Mmm Peter what are you doing?” You faintly mumble and there was sleep evident in the sound of your voice.

“I want to show you something. Just keep your eyes closed for me.” He requests and you do as told. He places your arms around his neck and your feet around his waist. Your head nestles its way in the crook of his neck and you start to fall back to sleep. There was a gush of wind on your back in a split second. You knew he was swinging on his webs high in the sky. It was better you didn’t open your eyes for sure now.

You tighten your grip around his neck from the feeling of flying freely through the city. Most of the time you got sick from him swinging you with him on special dates on skyscrapers. Some times were better than others and you were trying to get comfortable with it.

Once the breeze stopped you knew he had landed. Still half asleep you just cuddle more in to him. He sits down with you in his lap again. Your one leg comes around from his waist so you can sit sideways. He was basically cradling you now and you could not complain.

“Open your eyes.” He whispers. You do as told and you have to blink a couple times to adjust. When you looked out into the skyline your breath was stolen away. There was so many vibrant pinks and oranges casting off the clouds. The sun was almost this red and dark orangish tint.

Peter didn’t look away from you. He wanted to see your reaction of the display in front of you two. His eyes glistened from the way you lit up. He watched your eyes sparkle at the view and he swore he has never seen anything as beautiful as you. As cheesy as it was, you were his sunrise in this moment. He gently kisses your cheek and adjusts your body so you could get closer to him.

“It’s beautiful Pete. Thank you for bringing me to see it.” You look away from the skyline and he was already looking at you. Your cheeks were red from both the morning air and from where he just kissed you.

“I just wanted you to feel better and start your day with this in mind.” He gestures to the sunrise and you didn’t care about that anymore. You were too in love with this boy to even think straight. He does everything in his power to make sure you are happy and safe and most of all, loved.

“I don’t need sunsets or sunrises when I have you. You are the sweetest person I know Peter Parker. Thank you for all you do for me. I hope one day I can return the favor.” You gently cup his face with your hands to fully look him in the eyes. He had the softest look on his face.

“You return the favor everyday by being with me and loving me. That’s all I can ever ask for. And baby your love is like a drug.” His soft expression turns into a little grin. He knew the comment was cheesy but you of course admired it.

A light giggle leaves your mouth and a wide smile spreads from ear to ear practically. For a moment you look into his eyes and see that special little tint in his brown shade. With the sunrise casting a little light it made a golden ring around his iris pop. You watch him avert his eyes down to your lips giving you the hint. Both of you lean closer together until your lips clash together in a soft kiss. Your hands go around to the nape of his neck where his little baby hairs were. In an effort to deepen the kiss you comb your fingers up through his full hair. You slightly tug at the base and he inhaled deeply making the kiss harder. His hands wrap around to your back and he pushes you against his chest. The action makes your lips slightly part and give him the access he wanted to slide his tongue inside your mouth. You both start to see stars from such a passionate kiss. Every time it would feel like this to the both of you. But each time it got better it seemed.

That’s how you knew he was your person until the end of time. In every timeline you would choose him. Over and over again. Your souls were intertwined and would always find a way back to each other.

[roger-that-cap]

right where you left me

summary: this is the fourth prompt of @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s summary challenge! this idea kind of went a little crazy on my part, but the prompt is: remember when you said you’d marry me? today’s our wedding day and you’re not here to see it. 

warnings: y’all, i really said that i didn’t write angst and then made cardigan, and then this after one serious talk with @teenwonder - yeah, so this is angst? i wrote this while extremely vulnerable so this is very messy- deepest apologies

note: yes, the title is a taylor swift song. it is a must listen if you haven’t heard it, please!

word count: this is literally a baby, the shortest thing i’ve ever written- 1.4k

also guys, i got to 300 followers sometime last night- thank you!! i’m so glad that other people are enjoying my stuff, it’s such a great feeling.

If you had known that one person wasn’t coming back after retrieving the soul stone, you would have gone with Natasha instead of letting Clint go, and you would have forced her to let it be you. At least, that was your main thought for weeks and weeks, until the hole in your heart grew bigger and the rock on your finger grew almost too heavy to carry. Then, after your anger at her for leaving you in the dark and alone faded, you realized that it was just sadness. Nothing but. And for a while, it seemed to be going on a steady incline, and nothing was even close to getting better. 

You woke up every morning in emotional pain. Every morning, the right side of the bed was cold. Every morning, there was a lack of eyes on your face, and of feather light touches going down your back. There were no whispered Russian words or sweet nothings spoken in English. It was just you and no one else, and you could have never imagined that peace and quiet could have ever been so destructive. You would never be over the fact that it seemed like everyone had gotten their loved ones back, clicked right back into place like they never left to begin with, but you were stuck. Stuck in time, stuck in emotions, stuck with your body still aging but your heart never moving on. You were on a spinning platform, watching everyone grow old and renewing old vows and having kids, and you couldn’t get off. You would be there for the rest of your life, right where she left you. And then, that was when you took your original thought back. 

You would have never been able to leave her in the amount of sadness that she left you. 

You knew that she was always self-sacrificing, no matter how much she liked to pretend that she wasn’t the sort of team player that the world needed. It showed in the way she spoke about certain topics, the way she always secretly cared for the underdog, how she always stood up for recruits trying to prove themselves,  and even how she always watched out for the little guy and stuck her neck out for the people she knew needed a little more help than others. Hell, she met you by sticking her neck out for a stranger. You were fighting a man inches taller than you who had a knife swinging at you so wildly that you were sure that he was actually going to get you with his manic jabs. She came flying in out of nowhere without a sound like some sort of battle angel, and before you even realized who she was, she stepped in, took a shallow stab for you, and then dropped him so quickly that you were scared he was dead. 

  She sported that scar for the rest of her life, and at first, it brought shame to you. It made you feel guilty; knowing that your weakness caused another person to wear a scar on their body. Especially her and her body, because she was flawless. Because as hard as she seemed, she was beautiful inside and out, and she didn’t deserve to have any scar of any kind. As your love grew on, things changed, and that godforsaken scar became the flame to your hovering moth. Your fingers always managed to find it, even over her civilian clothes or tactical suit, and your lips always brushed over it when the lights were out and the air was thin between the two of you, when all there was was you and her and the candles that burned on the other side of the room. 

Now, you couldn’t imagine not wanting to see that scar. All you wanted was to trace it with your fingers even though you knew every single puckered spot that hadn’t healed correctly, and every curve of the scar itself. You couldn’t think of a more peaceful scene than placing light kisses on it and then looking her in the eyes, watching her smile that pretty little smile she did every time, the one that said that she would jump in front of the knife a thousand times over again. 

 So, yeah, you knew that she was self sacrificing. But you would have never thought that she would leave you in shambles. And shambles was what you were in as you sat in the apartment, the one that you used to share that you had nearly cleared out with the help of a pitying Sam and Maria Hill, in your beautiful white gown that you were so certain matched the one that Natasha had picked for herself. 

You still hadn’t seen it. 

  You were in the entire outfit. Your shoes were strapped on lazily, your veil was pushed back and crinkled, your mascara was running, but your dress was perfect. Your dress was frozen in time, stuck in a day that it had never even seen play out. Your sobs echoed louder than any laughter in the apartment had now that all the picture frames and decor had been torn down. 

  She was supposed to marry you. That was the promise that the both of you made when she got on one knee after the best day at Coney Island, surprising you only because you had a black box in your pocket, too. You were supposed to marry Natasha Romanoff, and your wedding day was here, knocking loud and proud, standing on your doorstep. It was the day, the one that was staring at you in the form of the glaring pink sharpie that you two had used to circle the day on the calendar. The calendar was the only thing still up in your apartment, as if you could ever forget the date. 

Suddenly, the dress that fit you perfectly began to feel tight. The necklace that you picked because it was elegant and light felt heavy around your neck, like a collar of sadness preparing to choke you at any second. You stood up, ready to take it all off and throw your dress and all of it off of the top of Stark fucking Tower, but then the heels that were your perfect height felt too tall. You collapsed back onto the couch, bawling your eyes out and whispering her name like a prayer over and over again, like it would bring her back to you, standing in a radiant white dresses that you could have only dreamed of. You could imagine it, her staring down at you with the soft smile she reserved for you that you missed so much, hand reaching out for yours, and you would have stretched to the point of desperation just to touch her. The door to your apartment had been unlocked and there was a quiet shuffling that signaled people coming in, but you didn’t care. 

You didn’t care that they were her friends, or yours. You didn’t care that they had somehow gotten a key to your apartment, or that they looked almost as heartbroken as you did, sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be shared, and so full of life and love. You didn’t care that you could hardly breathe through the pain or through your chest rattling sobs, nor did you care that someone had their arms wrapped around you and was trying to break through your eternal wall of grief. 

You and your dress were stuck in time. Stuck in a place where nothing bad ever happened to you or Natasha, in a timeline where you two managed to get married. In your mind, you were looking at Natasha while you threw your bouquet at your small group of friends, wide smiles on the both of your faces as you heard their playful squeals. In reality, you were sobbing on your floor, dust collecting on you and your true emotions as pages of reality and dream world stuck to each other. She left you, and she left you with no choice but to stay in a moment that would never happen forever. You flinched when you felt the arm squeeze you gently, forcing you to look at who was truly there in the flesh in front of you. It wasn’t her. 

  But it was your wedding day. And she was never going to be there to see it. 

****

i got sad and selfishly decided to make it other people’s problems- this is the result

[griavian]

the 36 questions that lead to love

x <- read on ao3

dream finds a list of questions that can supposedly lead to two people falling in love, so him and george try it out on stream. turns out, they don't really need all 36.

“Come on, George. It’s just a couple of questions.” Dream pleaded into the call, making George roll his eyes. He’s been trying to end stream for the past 15 minutes, but Dream always convinces him to go “just a little longer!”.

“36 questions is not just a couple of questions, Dream.” George glances at his second monitor to make sure his green screen was still black and to check a few discord messages. He had no intention to fall into Dream’s trap for another hour of streaming.

“But it says it’ll lead to love!” Dream says, exasperated. He googled ‘questions to ask your friend’ earlier and found a list of them that apparently lead to falling in love. To George, it was bullshit.

“That’s such bullshit.” He expresses.

“You’re no fun.” Dream’s voice lowered, and George can feel the pout Dream has plastered on his face. He can already predict what the next 12 hours would be like with Dream: silent treatment and being a general dickhead. George was used to it when they lived an ocean apart, and even found it amusing, but it was a totally different experience living with him. Dream would mope around, go into George’s room randomly just to not talk to him, and go as far as to blast sad music from his own room across the hall while George was trying to finish up some editing. Sure, it was all light-hearted jokes, and Dream would stop his act in a heartbeat if George was truly annoyed by it, but George still dreaded it.

“Fine.”

Dream immediately cheers up and starts typing on his keyboard while George watches his chat fly by, seeing a lot of emotes and positive messages.

“Okay, um- first question. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom,” Dream mocks the formality, “would you want as a dinner guest?”

George’s nose crinkles. “How is that gonna make me fall in love with you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know! The queen?”

“That’s a stupid answer.”

“What!” George screeches and Dream barks out a laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“You gotta give me a better answer than that, or else we won’t fall in love with each other.”

George rolls his eyes, but decides to think about his answer. Truthfully, he wouldn’t want anyone special as a dinner guest. “Um. My mum.”

George eyes his chat as it’s filled with “aw”s. He almost scoffs.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” George wants to punt Dream into another universe.

“Alright, who would you want as a guest?”

“Tom Brady.”

“That’s the stupidest answer ever!” George yells, his eyes wide, perhaps offended that Dream picked Tom Brady out of anyone else in the world.

“Question two!” Dream ignores, “This one is kinda dumb, but would you like to be famous and if you do, what for?”

George hums. “Probably don’t want to be famous-famous. Maybe being well-known for being the first person to invent IRL-VR. I want my body to be submerged in the Minecraft universe.”

“That’s sick. I dunno what I’d want-”

“You’re already famous.”

“Shut up. I don’t even- I don’t even want to be famous, really. I just want to make whoever knows me smile.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet, Dream.” George teases and he knows Dream waved him off. George has his habits practically memorized.

“Whatever. How about you ask some questions?” Dream sends a link on discord and George reads through them.

“There’s no way these can make people fall in love. What even is this question? Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say and why?”

“Trust the process. I mean, I do that. I don’t want my brain all jumbled up, I guess. Words are hard.” Dream answers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that. I wing it.”

“That’s very you. Next question.” Something about Dream saying that made George smile the tiniest bit, made the serotonin flow through his brain.

“What’s a ‘perfect day’ for you?” George reads. It’s quiet for a moment.

“Hanging out with you,” his voice is sincere, “You and Sapnap. Recording, streaming, anything like that. What about you?”

“Hm. Me too.”

George isn’t one to show his feelings often. He remembers being asked if he did, and he answered with “not ones that matter”. It still rings true to this day. His walls are still built up and that’s okay to George. Mushy feelings aren’t important, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say his heartstrings were playing a beautiful melody during this moment.

The questions and answers fall easily after that. George knows it’s around 1 am, and he should go to sleep, but answering the questions was kind of addicting.

“Do you have a hunch on how you’ll die?” Dream reads the question with a chuckle. “That’s such a weird question to ask someone you wanna fall in love with.”

George tries not to read in between the lines.

“Heart failure. For both of us.”

“You know how I’ll die?”

“We’re Minecraft streamers, Dream. We’ll probably die at 40.” They share jokes and giggles of scenarios where they die and what they’d do, and something about it feels a bit too honest.

“I’ll die the day you die, George. Emotionally and physically.” Dream says, dramatic as ever. George only huffs, and they leave it there.

“Name three things you and your partner have in common. Dream, do you have a secret girlfriend?” They start to bicker back and forth, because of course they do.

“It doesn’t mean romantic partner, you dumbass. Like- it’s like a science partner,” Dream sighs, “Well, we do have a lot in common. We have the same job, we care about the same things, and we love each other! Easy.” Dream answers.

“Who said I loved you?”

“You literally did last night.” George had closed chat a while ago, already prepared for what was to come. He can only imagine what they’re saying.

“They’ll never believe you.” George says with a sadistic grin.

“Ugh. Okay, what are you grateful for in life? You have to answer this.” George can hear Dream get a little closer to his mic, almost anticipating George’s answer. Dream knows how much he doesn’t like to express any feelings, and probably expects him to skip the question overall. George prevails.

“You. Obviously,” and before Dream can get out an aww, George says, “You made my career, dummy, and I’m grateful for that. And my friends, family, all the normal things. Chat! I’m even grateful for chat.”

“Well, I’m incredibly grateful for you especially.” Dream’s voice is soft, almost loving. George rolls his eyes. He could’ve guessed Dream’s answer, but it weirdly hurts him when it was spoken aloud. He doesn’t know whether it hurts because it might be a fun little joke or if it’s because someone might care about him that much. George decides to stop thinking.

They answer more questions, from taking four minutes to tell each other their life stories (“There was no reason to add that detail; you’re so gross, Dream.”) to what significant quality they would want to wake up and suddenly have (“You’re already good at code shit, George. That’s the saddest answer ever.”). They move onto section two of the list, which are deeper questions.

“Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing but haven’t yet, and why haven’t you?” George asks. He knows about Dream’s unfinished projects. There’s probably a million answers to the question, and George would listen to every single one.

“Uh, well. You know I was writing a book, yeah? I was halfway done with it, and I can’t make myself finish it. It’s probably writer’s block, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.” George frowned.

“You can’t finish it with that attitude, silly. You’re annoyingly amazing at everything.” George says with a snort, “I don’t have an answer to this. What did you say that one time? Your future is my future? Well, your dreams are my dreams, then.”

George cringes a little at what he said. He doesn’t know his viewer count, but knows that at least a million people will watch that clip out of context. Dream doesn’t say anything back and moves on to the next question.

“What is your most treasured memory?” Dream asks, and George immediately laughs.

“I definitely know your’s.”

“Do tell, George.”

“Our first Christmas together. Sapnap insisted on getting a real Christmas tree, and when we started decorating the stupid thing, Sapnap sees a spider and screeches. Then, our neighbors come knocking on the front door and you had to explain to them that nobody was being murdered, it was just your roommate being a big baby. And as if it could get any worse, I got tree-sap all on my fingers and clothes and you couldn’t help me because you were laughing too hard.”

“Pretty sure I almost choked on my own spit.” Dream adds, and George scoffs. “But no, that’s not my treasured memory.”

George sputters. “What? You’re telling me I told that to thousands of people for nothing?”

“To be fair, you were all soft on Christmas morning, so our first Christmas might be your treasured memory. Anyways, remember the first time you helped me with a code?” George stays silent, giving Dream the answer. “Well, that was the first time we had a real conversation. I made you laugh, then I started to laugh because you laughed, and we didn’t get the code done. It sounds dumb, but I always smile whenever I think about it.”

George’s face falters a bit. God, he just wants to hug Dream; he wants to make a beeline for his room and attack him with affection and make sure he knows that George loves him, platonically or romantically, George wants him to know.

He just can’t express it with words.

“That… sweet.” George’s eyes travel down the following questions and panics, seeing how personal the questions are. He fakes a yawn. “As mushy and stupid this thing is, I’m really tired.”

Dream doesn’t say anything. It almost scares George, but he deafens on Discord and bids farewell to his viewers, who were completely freaking out. George doesn’t blame them. He’s abruptly leaving after a sweet moment? That’s a recipe for disaster, and George knows better. Yet, he clicks the end stream button.

The door to his office swings open instantly and startles George. It was Sapnap, someone he didn’t particularly want to see.

“What the fuck was that?” His roommate whisper-yells.

George groans and slides deeper into his chair, covering his face. “I don’t know,” he muffles.

“Are you even trying to hide your feelings at this point?” He can hear Sapnap close the door and flop on his office’s couch. “You might as well buy a billboard that says ‘I’m in love with my best friend! His name is Clay!’ with a big ass picture of your dumb face beside it.”

“I know,” George whines. “Do you think he knows?”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about knowing. I’ve told you a million goddamn times that he’s too whipped to notice. I’m worried about the fans. They’re gonna go fucking bonkers because of this stream. Clips are gonna be shared. People are gonna speculate.”

George uncovers his face and narrows his eyes at his friend. “Thanks for the reassurance,” he deadpans.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious, dude. I know you’re very deeply in love with him in the gayest of ways, but you gotta be careful in front of the fans.”

“Oh my God. I know, Sapnap! I know. I forgot we were even streaming. It felt like it was just the two of us, and I got too comfortable. And it was so nice. I can’t even do anything about it now, so it doesn’t even matter.”

Sapnap sighs and pulls himself from the couch. “You need to talk to him before this gets out of hand. You know I love ya, and that I’m here for you.” George cringes out of habit, but nods. It reads as ‘I love you too, I guess’.

Sapnap leaves without another word, and George is left alone with his thoughts. It’s not long before he sluggishly makes his way back to his bedroom. He opens the closed door, enters, and shuts it. He turns around, only to be greeted by a familiar person in his bed, and yelps.

Dream laughs. He’s wearing blue pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair looks messed with, and his cheeks seem to have more color to them. George can’t help but stare.

“Well? Aren’t we gonna finish it?”

George cocks an eyebrow.

“Finish what?”

“The questions, dummy. You don’t… you don’t have to. I mean, it’s kinda stupid that I want to do it in the first place, but…” Dream trails off. George hops on his bed and grins lightly.

“Go for it.”

They answer questions they skipped, like what is your most terrible memory (“My, uh, grandma. She died when I was about 14. It was… hard on me.” “Oh, George…”).

The overhead light was off at this point, the only light coming from a lamp on his desk and the stars shining through the window. The two are on their sides, Dream on the right of the bed and George on the left, facing each other, occasionally looking at their phones to ask the questions.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” Dream asks, his voice softer than ever. George can almost not answer. He doesn’t know.

“I’ve never been a super affectionate person, so I don’t know. I’ll give you guys quick hugs of course, but with really close relationships, I don’t know what to do.”

Dream looks as if he’s searching for something in George’s face, and George can’t tell what he’s looking for. His movements are hesitant, George sees.

“Do- um. You wanna maybe,” Dream pauses, closes his eyes,and scrunches up his face. “Try?”

“Try what?”

“Affection.” Dream lets out a breath and opens his eyes. “Affection is my strong suit, afterall.” His mouth forms into a teasing smirk despite his eyes showing nervousness.

“Um. Take the lead.”

It’s slow. So, very slow. Dream’s hand raises up and lands itself on the dip of George’s waist. He’s whispering instructions, and George listens. His hands are hung around Dream’s neck, and their legs are starting to tangle together. They laugh when they realize how far apart they are, and Dream pulls him closer. George can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he lays his head where Dream’s right shoulder meets his neck.

“Do you want me to ask the rest of the questions, sweetheart?” It sounded like a coo, and George is surprised at how effortless the pet name comes out of Dream’s mouth.

“Was that okay?” Dream whispers after a moment of George going still. He perks up.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dream pulls George closer and rests his left hand on his back. He starts rubbing up and down in slow motions.

George simply melts.

The questions and answers go by slower, and their voices become gentler. Dream announces that they’re on section three now, and to state three true “we” statements. Dream goes first.

“We… are cuddling?”

“Obviously, idiot.” George chuckles. “We are really tired?” Dream hums.

“We meant everything we’ve said tonight.”

“We are going to mean everything we say tonight.”

“You can’t just steal my answer.”

“Just do your third one.”

“We will be ‘Dream and George’ forever.”

Forever is a long, long time. And yet, Dream’s statement is still true.

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Very vague.”

“Next question, Dream.”

“Alright, alright. Complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone whom I could share…’”

Without a second thought, George replies, “My emotions with. Your turn.”

George swears he felt Dream squeeze him.

“My everything with. Every single little thing. Physical, metaphorical, emotional.”

“Even Patches?”

A laugh.

“Yes. Even Patches.”

“Next question.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them and be very honest.”

“Your voice. It’s like… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Does it get you going, George?”

“Shut up. I definitely don’t like your smart-assery.” George can feel Dream lean down into George’s shoulder and smile. “I like how you act around people. It’s always different depending on the person. Different with me.”

“I like how you act around people too. You’re almost always bubbly, even though you like to say you aren’t. And, God, your laugh. It’s so overwhelming, but in the best way possible. You have no idea how many times I’ve said the stupidest shit just to hear your little laugh.” George digs his head deeper into Dream’s shoulder. “I also… really like it when you say my name. My real name.”

George raises slightly, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence. “Clay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that.”

“Clay,” George whispers.

“George.” Dream sounds weak. So, very weak. George gets closer to his ear.

“Clay.”

George can’t tell if he’s joking.

“You’re gonna kill me, George.”

George’s lips brush against the outer of Dream’s ear, and his friend shivers. He decides this isn’t a joke anymore. He thinks the invisible line they had drawn in the sand many years ago has been kicked and stomped on to the point where neither of them remembers the line being there. George goes further.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” George is still whispering, slowly brushing his lips across Dream’s jaw, and the hands around his waist get the littlest bit tighter.

George finally raises his head to meet Dream, who was a mess. His cheeks are glowing and his eyes are almost bloodshot. His breath is labored and his hands are shaky.

“Calm down, love.” George whispers and raises his right hand to meet Dream’s cheek, who leans into the touch.

“Kiss me.” Dream begs quietly, as if saying anything louder would shatter the moment in little pieces.

An adrenaline rush fills George’s veins. “Anything you want,” he says, and closes the gap.

The kiss is soft. Dream is maneuvering their bodies to be more comfortable, meaning George is pulled on top of Dream. Their lips didn’t part once.

They move together in harmony, both in the kiss and their bodies, putting everything they got into it. It was unsaid feelings and years and years of thoughts, and George felt every single one of them. George is straddling Dream’s middle and Dream is leaning up to meet George’s touch. His hands are rubbing up and down and squeezing George’s hips and George’s hands find their way into Dream’s hair. It’s perfect and imperfect and everything George has been waiting for, yearning for.

They part, and Dream pushes their foreheads together. George assumes they look dumb, but how could he care in this moment?

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Dream says, his breath tickling George’s mouth. He lets out a breath and breaks out into a smile. His hands start brushing through Dream’s hair and George backs away to get a good look. Dream is staring back.

George lunges forward and wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, sending him flat on the bed with an “oof”.

“Jesus Christ, George. A warning would be nice.”

“I love you. I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-” George couldn’t get enough of saying it. George’s dam cracked when Dream held him and fucking exploded when they kissed. He doesn’t have to hold back anymore, so he doesn’t.

“Slow down, baby.” Dream says through a chuckle. He makes George lean up with tans hands on pale cheeks and a lot of eye contact. “I love you, too.”

George’s breathing slows down to a normal, less-adrenaline-filled pace, and Dream kisses him again. George forces his head back up.

“What does this mean for us?”

“Isn’t it a little obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Boyfriends, George. We’re dating now.”

“How do you know I wanted to even be your boyfriend.” George narrows his eyebrows in faux-suspicion.

Dream’s stare is blank. “I mean. You’re- well- you know, um-”

George dismisses this shortly and confirms, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

Dream sighs in relief. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” George slides off Dream’s waist and lays facing him. Dream turns as well. “Was that question the last question?”

“No, actually. There were a few left.” Dream blinks, then muses, “Guess we didn’t need 36 questions after all.”

“That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said and I hate you for it.”

“You wound me, George. You wound me.”

George makes up for it by letting himself be engulfed in Dream’s embrace, and feels tiny kisses on the top of his head. George nuzzles closer.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine.

[realcube]

rq; could you possibly write a one shot about the reader having AD(H)D and has a really hard time focusing on core academics (math, science, english, history) because they feel scared about stimming and/or fidgeting in front of people and so they ask tamaki for help?

tw; very mild angst, fluff, stimming, i use the word ‘embrassing’ too much, swearing

words; 2.7k

it only took a moment of skimming over your latest progress report for you to understand the situation.

you continued to thrive in practical subjects like physical education, graphic design and manufacturing — the three main reasons you managed to secure your spot in the support course — but your core subjects seemed to be lacking.

for the last two years, you managed to score flying colours in all your subjects. but now, it was starting to appear as though your golden era was coming to a close. what was once a report with only scores greater than 90%, was now a range of totals anywhere from 90 to 50%.

this meant you were still passing all of your classes but these grades were only indications of how you were doing now; you knew that if you continued to struggle in all of your core courses, you might not finish your third year of UA highschool.

you simply wouldn't allow for your grades to decline further, so like any good student would, you made a list of ways you could improve.

number one was, of course, study more. however, you were almost certain that discipline and diligence aren't the causes of the issue.

number two was to ask for help from your teacher and although this was a completely valid option, you still felt like the problem ran deeper than your ability to comprehend the material. after all, you had made it this far without having to do so.

before you could even ponder number three, your pen ran out of ink. with a huff, you reach out to grab a new one from your pencil case, until you noticed that in the spot where your pencil case usually sits on your desk, there was nothing.

it was as though the void had caused all your memories of yesterday to come crashing down on you in an instant; it was almost nauseating. yet it, ironically, provided some clarity as to the location of your stationary.

two days ago, after school, you paid a visit to tamaki's house to deliver the gear he had commissioned. however, what was initially meant to be a casual interaction, somehow turned into a game of pictionary (with mirio and nejire there too, of course), for which you needed to bring your pencil case out of your bag. amidst your awkward goodbyes, you must've forgotten to put it back into your bag, hence your pencil case is probably lying dejected on tamaki's coffee table.

this left you with no choice but to throw on your jacket and begin your journey to tamaki's house. fortunately, he only lived a bus ride away from your home, yet you still mentally rebuked yourself for the whole length of aforementioned bus ride due to the fact that every time you would interact with tamaki, it felt like you were digging a deeper grave for yourself.

partially because you always found yourself oversharing with him — not that it was a one-sided ordeal — and you couldn't begin to explain why; he kinda just had a comforting aura about him. albeit you haven’t said anything embarrassing yet but the possibility of that happening was way too large. plus taking into consideration your complicated feelings for each other, leaving your pencil case at his house was a disaster waiting to occur.

or perhaps you were overthinking it. either way, you were now standing in front of his door with your school uniform and backpack on during a saturday afternoon because you had no idea what else to wear.

after ringing the doorbell, you stood as a patient statue in the cold until tamaki reluctantly opened the door and only poked his head out. “hello?”

emphasis on ‘only’, because he was truly committed to not allowing you to see him in his casual-wear, for some reason. a part of him reasoned that there was no way you would expect him to be wearing his school uniform on a saturday, but the majority of his brain was screaming about how he had to hide his clothes from you at all costs. especially since he was wearing socks, comfy trackpants and — most shamefully — a sweater with a small octopus design on it. and what would you think of him if you saw that his choice in loungewear was so childish?! it would be utterly humiliating.

completely unaware that tamaki was having a crisis behind the door, you pulled your most authentic smile and said the line you had been rehearing on the bus, “hi, tamaki. sorry for coming unannounced, but i think i left my pencil case on your coffee table when we were playing pictionary with mirio and nejire.”

“oh.” tamaki was almost too panicked to process what you just said but once he did, he immediately recalled the moment he noticed that you had left behind your pencil case. at the time, he planned on calling you to ask if he could drop it off at your house, but his nerves got the better of him and he decided to keep procrastinating the call until he completely forgot.

though, if he remembered correctly, the pencil case should be lying on his desk after he moved it there in hopes that the convenient location would remind him to return it; which it evidently did not.

“yeah. uh, i’ve got it. i’ll just go get it.” his face tingled with warmth slightly as he retracted it from the doorway, resulting in him finally realising how cold it is outside. in fact, since the eaves of his house shielded you for the climate, he didn’t even notice that it was snowing!

the polite bone in him got to work before the rest of him could react, as he blurted out, “come in, make yourself at home.”

fuck! i mean, it’s not that he doesn’t want you in his house — quite the opposite actually — but rather now he had to dart off to his bedroom before you could catch a glimpse of his sweater. but at least now this gave him an opportunity to change into something less embarrassing.

closing the door behind you, you were now left alone in tamaki’s living room. your eyes followed his figure as he dashed towards his bedroom, “odd.” you murmured to yourself. you weren’t exactly tamaki’s BFF but you were close enough to him that you could tell when he was acting weird.

but you didn’t think to much of it. actually, you were slightly grateful for this weird spike in tamaki’s behaviour because if he doesn’t want you around, that just means you are less likely to overshare and catch feelings, which means better outcomes in the long run, right?

after changing into a plain blue sweater and collecting your pencil case, tamaki strolled into the living room and handed it to you with a weak smile, “here you go.” he almost whispered, patiently waiting for your response so he could mentally prepare himself for goodbyes or another hour (or so) of conversation.

“thank you!” you basically squealed, pulling off your bag to stuff your pencil case back inside. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you took a moment to appreciate tamaki’s familiar attire, “oh, i love your sweater; i have a similar one with a cute little octopus on it.”

tamaki concluded that neither of you would be saying goodbye for a long while.

“thank you.” he responded with a soft smile, folding his arms over his chest as he made his way towards the kitchen, “um, so how are you?” he inquired, assuming that it was a pretty harmless question that would simply help get the conversation off the ground while he prepared tea.

“i’m good. but i don’t think i can say the same for my progress report.” you said with an awkward chuckle, standing aside as you watched tamaki put the kettle on. “and how are y--”

“what do you mean?” tamaki asked, disregarding the fact that he didn’t answer the question himself. although, simply put, this was because he found that conversation came more naturally to him when he was with you; or perhaps that is a slight overstatement. he tended to be more curious and inquisitive when talking to you and it wasn’t hard to tell.

until now you and mirio simply brushed it off as tamaki’s interest towards the support course, since you were the one who manufactured most of his gear. yet nejire always teased him as she believed that tamaki’s interest was caused by a different sort of passion.

nevertheless, regardless of tamaki’s motives, you still found yourself consistently answering his questions, “eh, well, i’ve just not been performing as well as i hoped.” you replied plainly with a shrug.

“is that all?”

no matter how many questions he asked, each one still managed to catch you off-guard. “um,” your throat ran dry, which might’ve been a sign from a deity to stop talking, but your swallowing was your way of proving that you did not care. although you will probably regret it later, talking with tamaki always relieved you.

“well,” you started, the lump in your throat growing by the second, “i guess i have a bit of trouble focussing in some classes too. but i mean, maybe it is because i drink too much caffeine? i’m not even sure to be honest.” that was lie, you were  90% sure of what the problem was, but you wanted to hear tamaki’s response before you proceeded, to determine whether he’d be open-minded about it.

“there is no such thing as too much caffeine.” he joked, handing you a cup of tea while he sipped on his own. “so it’s probably something else.”

he’s too good. it’s as if he knew you were withholding information.

“well,” you began once more, trying your best to appear clueless, “i guess moving helps me focus, but no once else in the class does it so wouldn’t it be embarrassing if i was the only one?”

“i don’t think it would be embarrassing at all.” he spoke softly, leading you back into the living room and offer you a seat on the couch beside him, which you graciously accepted. “but if you think it is, then i have something to help.”

before you could say anything, tamaki got up and headed towards his bedroom; leaving you to drink his heavenly tea while he searched. though, only a few minutes passed before you felt his arms slither over your shoulders to hook two clips together by your neck.

“there.” he said with a proud smile, “this is one of my cloaks that i use in my hero costume. you can tie it together so it covers the whole front half of your body.”

observing your reflection in the blackened TV, you smiled upon seeing for your own eyes that everything he said was true. it was like wearing a cape that goes around your whole body, and it had a nice hood! “wow, this is so adorable!” you cheered, then paused, “but how is it going to help me focus?”

“well, you can do whatever you want underneath it and no one will notice.”

ignoring the shady implications of that sentence, you moved your hand around underneath the cloak and he was right! no one would see you fidgeting underneath the cloak, and hopefully the professor’s voice would cover any sounds you made. plus, it looked pretty badass.

“this might work! are cloaks included in dress-code?” you joked, but you weren’t laughing for long as you turned to look at tamaki who was wearing an upset expression with his head hung low, “no.”

“oh.” you sighed, unclipping the cloak and handing it back to tamaki with a slight smile, “it’s fine. thank you for your help, and the tea. it was delicious, but i’ll probably have to start cutting back on the caffeine.” you gave it a chef’s kiss yet he didn’t even chuckle like he usually does. it was almost scary how your true emotions reflected onto him, as it seemed like the whole atmosphere had changed.

“(y/n).” tamaki uttered with a much more serious tone; eyes filled with determination yet trained onto the cloak in his hands. “you shouldn’t be embarrassed-- or at least, I, um, don’t think you should be.”

your eyes widened at how sternly he said the first part; granted, he became flustered when it came to the second part, but it really showed you how firmly he stood by what he was saying. you nodded for him to continue as he looked like he still had a lot on his mind.

“it’s unfair that you have trouble focussing because of what other people think. so my two cents is that you should do whatever you need to do, and, um, not care about other people... well, i mean, you should care about them, but just not what they think about you. because like, you can’t really control that--”

he found himself having to abruptly shut his mouth to stop himself from prattling on any further. especially since most of what he was saying was probably none sense that he mistook for inspirational, or at least that is what he gathered from the shocked look you wore; it was ironic how humiliated he was.

“that’s nice to hear.” you hummed, a kind smile gracing your features in place of the previous stunned expression, “though it’s hard to believe coming from someone as cool as you, tamaki.”

“cool?”

“yeah.” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at his baffled look which he must have been faking. surely he knows how highly thought of and respected he is throughout the whole school. he is in the big three, for fucks’ sake! “there is probably a better word to describe it, but you are one of the most badass people i know.”

“badass?” it was as if all he was capable of doing was repeating these words to you with an innocent yet confused gaze.

“yes!” you enthused, “so, is there anything you even have to be embarrassed about?”

“i do!” he almost whined, and without thinking, he stormed to his bedroom only to grab the sweater he cast aside earlier to show it to you, “look! an octopus sweater, isn’t this embarrassing?”

you deadpanned, unsure as to whether he was joking or not. “stimming is very different from a octopus sweater but go on.” however after a few moments of actually analysing the design on the article of clothing, you exclaimed, “oi, i have that exact same sweater! how is a cute little octopus embarrassing? plus, it would be extra cute on you because you have tentacles.”

in a moment of frustration and wanting to prove a point, he threw the sweater aside and began to sheepishly grab at the ends of his sleeves, “well, you know what’s even more embarrassing? having a crush on someone for three whole years and not having the balls to ask them out! and on top of that, being to nervous to return my crush’s stuff after you left it at my house.”

you weren’t sure if he meant to switch out ‘my crush’ with ‘you’ on purpose or if he was just confused. either way, you found yourself leaning in to wrap the poor boy in an overdue embrace, smiling against his chest as he hugged back. “that was..” you faltered, allowing tamaki to interject with “mortifying” but you were quick to correct him, “i think that was a very unique way to confess, and i'm just glad you did.”

your chuckle that followed was left to echo around the room as tamaki stood still and silent, simply enjoying the comfort in your arms as feeling the pleasure of time escape him. until eventually he whispered close to your ear, “so since i know more about embarrassment than you thought, will you take my advice now?”

you snickered, gently tracing shapes onto his back, “i was going to take your advice either way because if i don’t get good grades and remain in the support course, how will i graduate with you?”

“good point.” he hummed, not-so silently enjoying the relaxing sensations near his spine, “but we are not wearing matching octopus hats.”

how did manage to shoot down your idea before you even proposed it?