#with andrew pining away

[spacepanda7]

probably has been done several times but aftg!trc au:

Kevin as Gansey: privileged background on the surface, the Royal (Queen, in Kevin's case, obviously he CANNOT be the Raven King) ("so... what do you know about EXY?")

Andrew as Ronan: the most infamous and most unapproachable, loyal to Kevin/Gansey through and through. (though, in terms of the Lynch brothers, Andrew is more similar to Declan than Ronan imo)

Neil as Adam: horrible father, paranoid, vicious and merciless, particularly when being protective

Nicky as Noah

Jean as Blue

Jeremy as Henry

Aaron as Declan (misguidedly protective, antagonistic sibling; though honestly, Aaron fits better with Ronan and Andrew with Declan)

Riko as Kavinsky

Wymack/Abby/Bee as Maura/Calla/Persephone

Uncle Stuart as the Gray Man (with Kengo as the Gray Man's brother?)

might add on to this as I think of more...

[shorlinesorrows]

qpr jean and neil. that's all i'm gonna say.

do you see my vision?

[that-vampire-loser]

People who write andreil breakup fics are a different breed. I put those two through hell but they’re in hell together

[parallelogramsarefun]

a pity she does not exist, a shame he’s not a fag; the only girl i’ll ever love is andrew in drag.

[kafkaguy]

a pity she does not exist... a shame he's not a fag...

[intricate-ritualz]

i’ll never see that girl again, he did it as a gag / i'll pine away forevermore for andrew in drag

[bettyfrommars]

On Your Knees

mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

18+only, jealous!eddie, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mutual pining

The year is 1991. You work across the street from Eddie's garage, and the two of you have been flirting for months. Neither one of you make a move, though, but when Eddie sees you out on a date at The Hideout with someone else, he realizes he doesn't want to share you.

Word count: 3.8k

Song Inspo: No One Like You/Scorpions and On Your Knees/W.A.S.P.

You’re finishing up dinner on a date with a guy you don’t even like, and you’re bored as hell, when you realize that the restaurant he took you to is only two blocks away from The Hideout. Your heart grows arms and legs and does a cartwheel as you think about Eddie. Eddie Munson, the one who turns wrenches at the gas station/mechanic shop across from the cafe where you’ve been working to pay off your student loans. Eddie, the one who calls you Princess, and you hate it, but he calls you that anyway. Eddie, the one who sat with you and made you laugh when you found out your parents were getting divorced. Eddie, the one who has a secret crush on you, but keeps his distance because he thinks you’re too good for him.

Eddie, the guy who hasn't dated anyone all summer because he compares everyone to you, and they all fall short.

Tonight, you’re with Troy: he just graduated with a business degree and his dad owns half of Hawkins. He has an Andrew McCarthy look about him, but he spent almost the entire evening bragging about all of the hot women he’s dated, and reminding you what a catch he his. Before Troy drives you home, you tell him you want to see some live music at The Hideout, that a friend of yours has a band that plays there once in a while.

“Have you ever been to that place?” Troy asks, a disgusted look on his face. “It’s a dump. We’ll probably get hepatitis just from sitting on the seats.”

There is a guy at the door on a stool with long blonde hair and a handlebar mustache wearing sunglasses at night taking the $1 cover. He doesn’t check your ID’s but he does look you both up and down with a grunt as Troy passes him the cash. A waft of cigarette smoke billows out as you enter, the old wood plank floors squeaking under your feet. On stage at the end of the room is a band covering No One Like You by Scorpions, and you notice right away that none of them are Eddie. It’s not until you realize how disappointed you are that you finally come to terms with the fact that you do, in deed, have a thing for Eddie. It was always a possibility in the back of your mind, but now you’re not sure why you didn’t realize it sooner.

It would be too obvious to turn around and leave now, so you ask Troy to get you each a beer. Eddie told you that there are never many people at The Hideout, and he was right, but the crowd that chose to be there was plenty enthusiastic. You were able to find two stools at a small, round table against the wall that was sticky to the touch. You watch Troy wipe the top of his beer bottle of with the inside of his polo shirt. You’re facing the stage, sipping your beer, enjoying the crowd, pretending to hear whatever college glory story Troy is telling you. You were putting your beer down to clap at the end of the song, but then…

There he is, in the flesh: Eddie Munson.

You see him sitting three tables away, near the middle of the room, and just as you realize it’s him—his eyes connect with yours. You have a sharp intake of breath at how good he looks sitting there in his leather jacket with his long hair all around him. Normally, you see him during work hours and he wears his coveralls and his hair back in a ponytail, which you also find sexy as hell.

Suddenly, you don’t want him to see you here with Troy. You don’t want him to think that this date means anything to you. You put your head down as if the beer bottle can hide you. But when you lift your eyes to sneak a glance at him again, you see he’s still looking at you; his eyes shifting from you to the back of Troy. He lifts his beer bottle in greeting, his eyebrow up, his face unreadable. You’d always known Eddie to be quick to smile—always joking with you and teasing you; trying to find any reason to touch you or talk to you when he came around before work, on his lunch break, and sometimes after work if he saw you closing up. But, in that moment, his face was anything but pleased.

You curse under your breath.

“What was that?” Troy asks, his face cringing at the next song (On Your Knees – W.A.S.P.)

You smile because you have no idea what he just said.

Troy chuckles, picks up your hand, and puts the back of your fingers to his lips to kiss them. You don’t even need to check and see if Eddie saw that, because you know he did. You force yourself to count to ten before you look in his direction again.

But he’s not looking at you this time, he’s talking to one of the two other guys at his table. A sexy waitress wearing daisy duke shorts to show off her long legs and a low cut shirt to show off her goods, was at his table, probably taking their drink order. To your chagrin, the hot waitress moves behind Eddie’s chair and bends over to wrap her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his head. Eddie sat there and let it happen; he looked like he was enjoying himself, one side of his mouth kicking up in one of those playfully devilish grins. In a follow up bold move, the waitress slides around to sit in his lap, her arm around his shoulders, her mouth only inches from his.

You jerk your head away so fast, it’s almost like you got slapped. You pretend to watch the band over Troy’s shoulder, not sure if you could handle it if you had to watch Eddie kiss someone else. Just as you are internally screaming at yourself not to look over again—you do it anyway.

The waitress is on her feet now, but Eddie has his arm hooked around her legs, her ass close to his face. With an adoring smile, she runs her hand down Eddie’s hair, and then gives him a wink before she walks away.

Eddie’s eyes snap to you.

You look down at your beer and choke, but turn it into a cough, and cover your mouth with your hand. The thought occurs to you that he was egging that waitress on to get back at you for being there with Troy. What did Eddie have to be jealous about? He never asked you out on a date or let you know he had any romantic interest in you. Sure, you suspected that the feelings between the two of you were growing, but for all you knew, you were misinterpreting things. You both graduated from different high schools, and Eddie liked to joke that you never would’ve given him the time of day back then. You were the prom queen, and he was The Freak.

“You okay?” Troy asks, putting his hand on your arm. “You ready to get out of this shithole?” But he only mouths the word shithole, as if anyone could hear him over the music.

You swallow hard and give an enthusiastic, albeit fake, “yes! Absolutely,” but first you needed to use the restroom; you’re not sure what is going on in your gut, but it feels like a swarm of butterflies wielding knives.

You stumble a bit getting off your stool, but then collect yourself, faking a confident smile. Troy lets you know that he would meet you outside in the car. Feeling somehow justified to do so after Eddie’s handsy nature with the waitress, you kiss Troy on the cheek as you head to the bathroom with your head down.

Ducking into the narrow hallway that was off to the back of the stage, you exhale a long-held breath, steadying yourself against the wall. The hallway is painted black brick, plastered in stickers, hand-drawn band posters, and graffiti. There is a payphone separating the two bathrooms, and when you pull open the door with the outline of a stick figure in a dress on it, you’re relieved to find that it was a one-person bathroom; gas station style. The bathroom itself is filled with graffiti tags and stickers as well, and there are peoples names etched into the mirror, along with phone numbers and curse words.

You make sure the door is locked, and then start pacing back and forth. “Damn you, Eddie,” you whisper to the emptiness around you.

You brace your hands on the edge of the white porcelain sink, meeting the eyes of your reflection in the mirror; they are positioned right under a very crudely carved broken heart outline. “Get a hold of yourself,” you’re still talking to yourself---Eddie Munson is slowly but surely making you certifiable. Everything is cool, everything is great. You’ll make a beeline for the exit, and you won’t have to see which girl he has on his lap now.

You shake your hands out, sigh heavily, and then unlock the door on an exhale.

As you come out, another woman who had been waiting gives you a dirty look and then goes in behind you. Once she shuts the door, you realize that you’re standing out in the dark hallway with Eddie.

He’s leaning casually against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and then he lifts his chin at you once you realize that it’s him, a bored look on his face. “What are you doing here, Princess?”

“Hi Eddie. I have to go now,” you say in a rush as you move to walk by him. In response, he stretches his arm out, takes a big step, and plants his hand flat on the wall next to you, using his body to block your path, his wallet chain hitting the brick with a clack.

There is a dramatic pause as it takes you a few seconds to find the strength to look up at him, and meanwhile you stare at the tattered metal t-shirt under his leather. There is a tightening in your chest: part confusion, part fear, and part deep, primal need that makes your core throb.

When your eyes slowly climb to his, you see that the pupils in his chocolate brown eyes are blown, and his lips are parted.

“What do you want, Eddie?” You ask, trying to read the hard set of his jaw.

He moves closer and lowers his head so that your eyes are now on the muscles of his neck, his heart beat visible.

“Is that your boyfriend?” His voice is a low murmur.

In a strange burst of frustration, you cock your head at him, pulling back to meet his eyes again. “What do you care?”

The woman comes out of the bathroom and give you both a side-eye as she walks by.

You follow suit and duck to the side to move around Eddie, but he is quick to switch positions---stretching his arm out so that the flat of his palm meets the opposite wall with a smack, his metal rings clinking together. The smell of his cologne mixed with leather and tobacco intoxicating you like a drug about to send you on a high to outer space.

Fuck, I can’t let her leave, Eddie thinks to himself, his mind racing, his heart about to explode out of his chest with the massive crush he has on you. For the past couple weeks, he’s been trying to build up the courage to ask you out, but then he would look down at his dirty hands and drive back to his messy trailer and push the thought out of his mind. But, seeing you on a date with someone else, someone other than him, flipped a switch that turned him into a bit of possessive, jealous asshole, and he didn’t like that side of him. It also set off an alarm deep in his gut letting him know that he was already in deep with you, and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

“Why was he touching you?” He glances up at his hand on the wall, but then flicks his gaze back down to you, lingering on your mouth, expecting an answer.

“Are you in charge of who gets to touch me now?” You rest your shoulder on the wall, returning his eye contact with a defiance that makes him the first to look away.

Eddie’s jaw muscles tighten, his back teeth grinding—he felt like he was losing control. The need for you to be his—to belong to him—tightened like thorns around his heart more and more every day.

“Listen, Eddie,” you soften, remembering that this is the guy who makes you mix tapes and leaves his tip money in the shape of origami animals. “I went on a date with him because he asked me. And I’ve been really...lonely,” you were a bit ashamed to say that last part, but it was true.

Eddie softens too, hearing your voice tremble.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “Being with him only made me realize how much I’d rather be with you.”

The look you give him moves him in a way he could not have predicted. In the time it takes for him to exhale the breath held tight in his chest, Eddie cups your face in his hands, and backs you against the far wall, his mouth covering yours, moaning as you slip your tongue between his lips, meeting his desire with equal force.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispers against your mouth.

You grab him by the belt loop and yank him closer. “You can have it, all of it,” you say, breathlessly. You can tell his hands are hovering, not sure if you want him to touch you in other places, and so you reach down and cup between his legs, a bit taken aback at the size of the cock growing in his jeans.

“Holy shit,” you say as you glance down.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says in regards to his size.

“Don’t be sorry,” you assure him. “I want it inside of me.”

Eddie pauses to make eye contact with you, swallowing hard, the need for you tightening in his balls. You both glance at the empty bathroom and simultaneously start to move, shutting and locking the door as soon as you can. The romantic in Eddie can’t help but think that this isn’t the ideal place for a first time with you, but you’re both too horny—too ready. He can feel how ready you are soaking through your panties as he reaches under your dress to stroke you.

Eddie has you against the door of the bathroom, his tongue searching your mouth, moaning, while his fingers rub you on top of your underwear before slipping them aside to stick one finger in.

Your breath catches, and Eddie groans at your resistance, at how tight you are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your mouth. “I want to taste you.”

He drops to his knees, taking your underwear with him as you hold your dress up at your waist. He takes one more look up at you, still not believing this is really happening. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he gushes, just as his mouth buries into your folds, his tongue dipping down to fuck your hole. You put your hand to his hair and cling to it. He brings one finger up inside of you again, finding a little less resistance, as he sucks and flicks his tongue on your nub.

“Oh my god...Eddie...just like that…”

You hear people out in the hallway, but one uses the payphone and another one goes into the men’s restroom. You can feel Eddie’s hand with the chunky rings resting on your thigh, and you reach your hand down to intertwine fingers with his as he ventures to sink a second finger inside of you. You cry out a little, and his eyes snap up to look at you, but then he realizes it was a cry of pleasure as your opening spreads open for him, swelling to meet his needs.

Your leg starts to tremble; you release his hand to pull down the front of your dress and cup your breast, plucking at your nipple.

“Baby..I think I’m about to….oh fuck…”

Eddie takes your core into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue at a rapid speed, filling you with two fingers as your arousal drips down your inner thighs.

“Wait...wait….” you stop him, and reluctantly he tilts his face back to look at you; his mouth and chin glistening with your juices. You grab his chin. “I want to cum with you inside me.”

Eddie’s cock jerks in his jeans at that suggestion, even though he intended to make this all about you.

“Please, baby,” you plead with him, still holding him by the chin, and then he rises to his full height and prepares to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand before he kisses you, but you stop him.

“I want to taste me on you,” you tell him, as your mouths collide again, murmuring about your mutual need for each other. Eddie feels like the tip of his cock is about to blow off with how turned on he is by you.

Eddie turns you around, reaching around to play with your clit as he does so, your head tilting back to kiss him. You press your cheek against the door and pull your skirt up, your underwear still around your knees, arching your lower back so that your ass lifts up to him.

He spanks you with the flat of his hand, and then rubs it; he opens you up with his thumbs to look at your perfect asshole. He runs a finger from your swollen lips to your backdoor, watching you shiver at the sensation.

He undoes his belt and drops his black jeans and boxers just enough, clutching his throbbing hard cock. You look behind you at the weapon in his hand and start to rock your hips back, begging for it.

Eddie squeezes some precum to the tip and then rubs it along your soft, soaking hole, feeling it grip him and suck him in. Your tight entrance makes him shiver as he clutches your ass with a grunt, his rings slightly pinching your skin. He thrusts it in half way and you toss your head back.

“Oh my god, fuck fuck, oh my goddddd….” you can feel the orgasm mounting again, unfurling like a band of firecrackers at the base of your spine.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“Out of Order!” Eddie growls back at them.

His hips are rocking now, sending his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, “holy fuck, you feel so good,” he groans with a curse, moving faster now, watching your juices soak his cock.

A few more thrusts and you are bracing yourself against the door, muttering about how good it feels, pushing your ass back into him so that he can bottom out inside of you, cursing and groaning as he does so.

“That’s it,” he tells you, your skin meeting with a satisfying slapping sound. “That’s my good girl.”

You reach down and rub your clit as you reach the brink, your body vibrating, the heavy beat of the music thudding in your chest.

“Eddie...Eddie baby...I’m...I’m…” And then you go momentarily limp and he holds your hips as you stupify for a moment, seeing white behind your eyelids, soaking his cock with your cum, mumbling, as a whip inside of you snaps.

Eddie’s orgasm isn’t far behind, he hisses at the way your walls grip him as you cum, hearing your whimpers of pleasure.

His hips start to pump at twice the pace, pouring into you, his wallet chain slapping his jeans. “Fuck, I’m about to...where do you want me to…”

“Inside of me, oh god, inside of me….”

A few more thrusts and he starts to explode, sending his seed deep inside of you, kneading the skin on your ass as his pelvis curves against you. He trembles as he gushes, his hand traveling up to cup the back of your neck.

Heaving deep breaths, he pulls you back against him, kissing your neck, fondling your breast, his cock not ready to leave the tight grip you have on him. “My cum is so deep inside of you, you belong to me now.”

You turn your head to look up into his eyes and he kisses your mouth and then your nose, holding you there.

Someone bangs on the door again, and this time they rattle the handle.

You both share muffled laughs as you quickly pull yourselves together.

“Sorry, toilet was broken,” you yell, checking your face in the mirror.

When you’re both ready, Eddie reaches back to take your hand in his before he unlocks the door.

On the other side of the door is Troy. He’s frowning, and then his face drops, his mouth going agape as he sees the state of you two and his brain scrambles to register what he is looking at.

“What the hell is going on?” He barks at you, incredulous. You find it amusing that Troy was worried about catching germs from merely sitting on the seats, and here you are getting raw-dogged in one of the bathrooms.

Eddie keeps a firm grip on your hand, pulling you closer to him, as he checks Troy in the shoulder on his way out. “She’s with me now,” Eddie tells him. “Don’t ever touch her again.”

You shrug your shoulders at Troy, and give him an ‘oops’ face as you follow Eddie’s lead back to his van, back to more debauchery.

[peterpatterr]

Neil pining for Andrew and not even realizing it is so funny, but what’s even funnier is that at some point before Andrew tells him, he does notice. And just chooses to ignore it - he literally compares his and Andrew’s relationship to a romantic one and then goes ‘I’m just gonna file this away for later.’

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Apricity

07/12/2023

Pairing: Andrew (Hozier) x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,733

Warnings: rpf, language, alcohol, heartbreak, pining, fluff

Summary: After a painful breakup, Andrew needs the comfort of his best friend.

A/N: I'm going to church tonight, and I brought an offering for the god(s). Hope you like it.

Picture by Daniel Goodman via Business Insider

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

“Last orders.”

The booming voice rolled through the thick, hot air like thunder. It was a wonder they could hear it at all above the music and buzz of voices, she thought, but the bearded man behind the counter looked like the type who knew exactly how to make himself heard. Andrew on the other hand was not a man who raised his voice in conversation regularly, still she shivered when instead she suddenly felt his hot breath waft through her hair.

“Shall we take another?”

But he was gone before she could even turn to face him, let alone process his words and form a coherent answer.

“Oh, so no to that,” he misconstrued the confusion on her face as their eyes finally met. “You could have just said so, you know. No need to pull a face like that.”

“What face?”

“You know, the one where your eyebrows knit together just a tiny bit and the corners of your mouth fall a little.”

He tried to mimic her expression and whether he had intended to or not, he made her laugh. And as if that wasn’t enough already, he smiled along, that crooked half-smile of his, almost as if he was surprised anything he did could genuinely amuse her. 

“Andrew, that’s just my usual face. It doesn’t mean anything. Although…”

“Ah, see. Not just your usual face after all then. You can’t fool me, you should have realised that by now. I don’t know why you still keep trying though.”

The slight curl of his lips reappeared for a moment, making him look so very proud of himself. And, for the first time this evening, almost a little happy. Now who was she to take that away from him by telling the truth: that she had been fooling him about her true feelings for months, maybe even years, and very successfully so, it seemed. 

“You’re a grown-up, Andrew. Have a drink if you want another. But—”

The last word had earned her a very dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I knew there was a ‘but’.”

“Yes, Freud, we know, you can look through me like glass, anticipating my every move.”

He chuckled. “Finally you see reason, woman.”

“But seriously,” she could see another remark form behind his mischievous eyes, so she was quick to make her point, “is that wise? Another drink will only make you sadder than you already are.”

“Sad? I’m not sad. I’m angry. Fucking furious to be precise.” 

Mostly with himself, she assumed. In all this time she had known him, he had never held a grudge against anyone for long, if at all. But it wasn’t as easy for him to forgive himself at times. Still, anger was progress.

“Good.” Softly she squeezed his hand and waited until the tension of his sudden outburst slowly subsided. “That’s good. You’re moving into the next phase then.”

He mumbled something under his breath, the sentence impossible to understand against the bustle of the pub. The only word she could identify was “Freud”, enough to help her understand that it had just been another of his sassy retorts. His next words came clearer though.

“If that really is a good thing, why can I hear concern in your voice?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t think you would recover from her so soon.”

Andrew had not told her what exactly had passed between them and she didn’t want to pry. She only knew that they had argued, and that his girlfr—ex-girlfriend—had given him an ultimatum of some sort. Whatever it had been about, he obviously hadn’t decided in the woman’s favour.

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

Before she was able to stop herself, she could feel her brow rise, reminding him that they both knew he wasn’t the type that skipped through relationships. The final decision had been made a mere five days ago, a rather short time in her opinion to move into the phase of anger. But Andrew wasn’t her and for all she knew whatever it was that had led to the sudden end of this relationship might have given him reason in abundance to be infuriated. 

“Come on, I only knew her for what? About half a year? It’s not as if she was…” For a brief moment he paused, his eyes resting on her while he tried to swallow the words that had already been forming on his tongue. But it was too late and when he finally continued, his voice was softer than it had been all evening, almost fragile. “…the love of my life.”

Eagerly he gulped down the remains of his drink as if to clean his mouth from its last statement before the glass hit the counter with an audible clink.

“You’re right though. I probably shouldn’t have another one of these. Better call it a night.”

He didn’t even wait for her response, long fingers already busy stuffing his lush bun underneath a grey beanie. She had just slipped into her jacket when he already turned to lead the way. It would be easy to get to the entrance with him in the lead, his tall form parting the crowd effortlessly for them. But he didn’t seem quite as confident in the impact of his height as he hesitated for a moment. She had no idea why, not until she could suddenly feel the warmth of his hand closing around her own. His action startled her, only for a brief second, while her brain was trying to recall a thousand memories at once just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken in thinking that he had never done this before. He hadn’t. Still it felt normal. Easy. Everything was always easy with him. Conversations, silence, laughing, crying — it was all easy. Effortless and comfortable. Natural.

It wasn’t long though before they were met with the cold night air. It hit her hard, almost making her take a step back as, with the first inhale of fresh air, it invaded her lungs. Still it was nothing, an irrelevant fact, drowned out against the much harsher sensation of his hand gliding out of hers. 

He didn’t even need to fully raise the hand that had been hers for a blink of time to make the taxi hold in front of them. But it was enough for the icy air to crawl underneath her clothes and wrap around her in a tight grip. Not even his sweet gesture of holding the door for her combined with the warmth that streamed towards her from inside the cabin could keep her from shaking violently.

And it didn’t stop. Not when the door closed, not when his body pressed against hers in the limited space of the back seat. She was almost convinced that nothing would ever stop this chill, when suddenly his voice filled the silence to state the obvious.

“You’re shivering. Come here.”

And then his arm was there, invading the unclaimed territory of her neck and shoulders to pull her close. It may have been the spirits inside her system, making her needy and weak to his touch. Whatever it was, she didn’t care as she sank deeper and deeper into the unmatched heat that seeped freely from him, directly underneath her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling so evenly, as if her closeness meant nothing, as if this was the normal way to be. It was infectious, hypnotising her into a state of untainted drowsiness, one last thought remaining on her mind. This was it, not just the normal way to be, the only way to be. Even more so as his lips pressed to her hair, a gesture so tender it made her heart flutter, and she knew that she would never recover from this moment, however insignificant it was to him.

“I don’t think I told you, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

His words were mumbled against the crown of her head, almost inaudible above the noise of the car and the blaring music from the radio, but she had heard them and would cherish them forever, sealed inside her heart until her last breath.

For most, they would be the bare minimum after crossing an ocean in a hurry simply because she had known something was off. She always knew, from the fatigued tone of his voice to the slight change of colour in his eyes, from the way he had to force his smile, never quite reaching the full infectious gleam it usually held, his mind anywhere but with her while his fingers kneaded the palm of his hand in discomfort. 

She also knew that it had probably been an overreaction, but she would do a lot more for him than spend her last savings on a transatlantic flight and an overpriced Airbnb, for him, she would walk all the way through the eternal fires of hell and back if that was what it took to make him whole again. He probably wouldn’t do the same for her, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t expect him to, that was not the way love worked.

“Well, first and foremost I came here to whup that woman’s ass for treating you like...well, the way she did. Comforting you was just second on my list.”

Stirred by a deep chuckle, his hot breath wafted through her hair for the second time this night. It was addictive, and dangerous, because it made her want to cuddle in deeper until it was too late to let go. And right now, just for a second, she allowed herself to hope that he might actually let her. Later this night, she promised herself, she would forget all about it. Forget about the soothing warmth he gave her and the light his presence brought to her life, always. It would be hard to erase the memory of a love that had never been and never would, even more so in the cold of an unfamiliar bed, reminding her mercilessly that she was just another foreigner in a city of millions of strangers. In a world where no one truly knew her but one. And even he didn’t know the one thing she so desperately wanted him to know, yet feared to tell him the most.

“We both know that’s not true.” For a second she held her breath, stupidly fearing he had been listening in on her thoughts. “You couldn’t even hurt a fly.”

Technically, he was right, she silently agreed with him while she relaxed in his arms again. But this was about him. And seeing him like this, this gentle, loving, warm soul, defeated by the betrayal of someone he had given his whole heart to—even if he denied that now… To her, that was reason enough for far more than just a firm ass-whupping.

Maybe she should finally listen to the nagging voice inside her head and tell him just that. It seemed simple enough, a few words spoken from the heart and it would at last be out of her system. After month and month of silence it would be out in the open, released from her heart and yet vague enough for him to take it one way or the other. Like a spectator from the outside she felt herself move to leave his embrace, but before she even had the chance to open her mouth, he beat her to it. A strained groan fell from his lips, eyes rolling heavily in their sockets and she thought she might have missed the moment in which she had already made her confession without even noticing, when she realised his agitation had nothing to do with her at all. 

“Oh, come on. Of all the songs…”

Instant relief washed over her, causing a rush to the head that made her feel a little lightheaded. Enough for a cheeky grin to curl her lips.

“No, don’t you dare. Don’t even think about—” he warned, but too late.

“Go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now ‘cause you’re not welcome anymore…”

Her voice sounded all croaky and flat and she gave it her all to make it sound even worse. Knowing her absolute lack of talent, she usually avoided singing in public, and it had only ever happened on a handful of occasions, when the alcohol had made her indifferent to the physical pain she caused her poor audience. Andrew had always teased her relentlessly afterwards, but she knew all too well that he found it endearing and very amusing. He couldn’t deny that now, although his furrowed brows might give a different impression, but it didn’t take long until he accepted his defeat and the sweetest of smiles spread on his lips. And after leaving her hanging for another few lines, he joined in.

“I used to cry, but now I hold my head up high and you see me, somebody new, I'm not that chained-up little person still in love with you. And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free. Well, now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me…”

They were both belting at the top of their lungs, all the way through the song, and when it finally ended, they fell back into their seats, giggling and panting violently as if they had just finished running a marathon. She was still holding her belly, completely wrapped up in their little cocoon of pure joy when she realised that something was off. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the taxi had come to a stop. It was hard to tell how long it had been standing in front of the red brick row house already, but if the driver’s face was anything to go by, it might have been quite a moment since their arrival. 

He cleared his throat while he held her gaze in the mirror and Andrew’s laughter died away as well. She hated the cabby a little for taking this moment away from her friend and threw him a dirty look. Andy deserved being happy, so much, if only for the length of one single song. Careful to soften her gaze, she turned to look at him.

“Well, I guess this is me then.”

His answer was nothing but a tight lipped smile that left her with a thousand different options of interpretation. She was still trying to work out its meaning when for the second time this night, he took her completely by surprise.

It wasn’t the fact that he reached out for her to pull her in for a hug that startled her, he always did that before they said goodbye, but the way his embrace felt just a little tighter, his familiar scent more intoxicating than usual and the wool of his coat that suited him so exceptionally well unbelievably soft underneath her fingertips. In a mere moment he invaded her whole being, flowing through her freely until she could hear her soul hum in the silence that surrounded them. 

It felt unholy to pull away, the sacrilege petrifying her in her seat, leaving her with no option but to stare at him. She had almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes were. That lush, mossy green, flecked with warm, earthy shades, she wanted to dive into them, and never return. 

And there it was again, that one feeling she only ever had when she was with him. It was hard to pin down, it was not as if she was not complete without him. She was. But she had spent her whole life trying to fit in and with him, she didn’t have to. It just came naturally.

For a tiny moment, it seemed as if he was moving closer again. She noticed his eyes fall to her lips, or maybe she had imagined it. Either way, she couldn’t help herself from doing the same, watching the pink pillows open the slightest bit, a sigh waiting to fall, or a word, but it never came. Instead, a dog barked somewhere nearby and the moment was gone. 

When she looked up, it was unmistakeable that the sadness had returned to his eyes as well. She hated it, hated every second they didn’t shine as brightly as they usually did. She missed the excitement they used to hold, the warmth and kindness they radiated from beneath his long lashes. And her heart broke for him all over again.

A soothing smile on her lips, the palm of her hand cupped his bearded cheek. She wanted to tell him that even if everyone were to abandon him, she would always be there. The words were forming in her mind so clearly, all she had to do was open her mouth and deliver them, but instead she heard herself say, “There is someone out there for you, Andrew. I’m sure of it.”

He returned her smile, faintly, but it was definitely there and it didn’t leave even as he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. 

“Good night.”

“Night, love. I’ll call you in the morning.”

She nodded, and then she was gone. Andrew moved over to the spot where she had been sitting to watch her walking up the stairs. One hand pressed against the leather of the seat, he felt her warmth that still remained, felt his skin soaking it up to let it warm him from the inside. 

She had always possessed this power, to warm him up and thaw his heart, even though he had thought that this time it had frozen for good. But the second he had taken her hand in that pub—whatever had driven him to do so—he had known that all would be well eventually. It had been so right, so natural, to feel her like that, if only he would be brave enough to tell her. But he could never, not as long as there was even the slightest possibility she didn’t feel the same. Because more than loving her in secret, it would hurt to lose her forever. He would rather have her as a friend than not at all because for him, there was no life without her. 

There was no way he would ever tell her, but it was this exact truth that had ended his last relationship. Faced with the choice between her and anyone else in this world, it would always be her. No matter what. There had never been the tiniest chance he could have decided otherwise. 

And now he was surer than ever that he had made the right choice. Maybe this night had made him delirious, he still couldn’t tell. She had been so close, filling first his senses and then his mind with nothing but her until he had let himself believe that this could really be it. His life as it was supposed to be. For a second he had even imagined that she was leaning in, that she wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted to seal her lips with his. 

But even if she had, it was probably only pity speaking. Or worse, she might have thought that he needed a cheap substitute to drown his pain. And nothing could be further from the truth. He had almost been thankful for the bark that had interrupted them, without it he would never have found the strength to pull away and return her abrupt goodbye. Still, it was better this way. By morning he would have forced himself to forget about everything that could have been tonight, he would call her as he had promised and pretend that she didn’t hold his heart. It had always been like that. And it always would be. 

She had almost made it to the door by now. Her steps already slowing while she was fumbling for the keys in her bag. He didn’t know how hard it was for her to hurdle the remaining distance between herself and the door. Especially with all the tears clouding her gaze. She had felt them coming even before the taxi door had closed behind her. And so she hadn’t looked back, afraid he might see. And now that she had almost made it, she couldn’t even find those bloody keys in her stupid bag. 

It seemed like a miracle when she finally closed her hand around the cold metal to bring it to the dim light of the streetlamps. But her triumph had been too hasty, the keys gliding out of her slippery fingers and shattering onto the ground with an ugly clattering noise. 

The frustration set loose more tears, forcing her to fish around blindly for them and when she had finally managed to find them, she fumbled around equally clumsily to find the keyhole. Her only solace was that she had heard the taxi pull away while she had been hunching on the ground, so at least nobody had seen. He hadn’t seen.

“You know, I was wondering,” she jolted upon the unexpected voice, her keys hitting the ground once more as she turned around in a hurry to find him right in front of herself. “When you said someone— Are you crying?”

“No,” she promptly replied, but it was useless to deny the obvious, she realised, as her croaky voice sounded through the silence, fresh tears still burning hot on her cheeks. And Andrew being Andrew, he didn’t hesitate. In the blink of an eye he was there, gentle hands cupping her face and wiping away the salty streams. 

“Why are you crying, love?”

She didn’t answer, her throat sealed by a lump of fear. If she answered truthfully now, she would lose him. And she couldn’t, she mustn’t.

But he knew anyway. It was obvious from the way his forehead wrinkled and his eyes softened upon the realisation. She hadn’t expected the crooked smile though that slowly began to grace his lips. 

“I see.”

His lips were even softer than she could have ever imagined, moving so tenderly with hers. And even though this was happening so fast that she didn’t know if she was awake or dreaming, she felt herself relax in his arms. Letting go of all her worries was suddenly so easy. Everything was easy with him. 

[myprophecy]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ DO IT AGAIN & AGAIN & AGAIN. DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!

pairing: will solace x child of aphrodite

warning: pining, cursing.

synopsis: a messy healer is in love with the perfect child of aphrodite. of course, he doesn't stand a chance. . .or does he?

a/n: i don't know how to write kissing scenes ahhh!!

you were way out of wills league. of course, the boy wasn't delusional. he knew he was nothing compared to you, an aphrodite kid.

his blonde curls were always in a messy bun, for he had no time to take care of himself working in the infirmary, while your hair was always looked after. styled perfectly, not a single hair out of place.

you had an amazing style, your statements leaving him red cheeked and shy. on the other hand, he threw on whatever he saw first and then covered his atrocity of an outfit with his huge doctor coat.

and the list can go on.

in conclusion, will was a mess. you were perfection.

yet, he couldn't help but love you, even though he knew it would get him nowhere in the end.

surprisingly, it was a slow sunday morning in the infirmary. will and few of his siblings were chatting softly, chuckling here and there.

they paused their conversation when they heard the creaking of the door opening, before will was able to turn around and look at who had came in, he saw kayla smiling wickedly.

"i need you guys to help me restock the back, come on." she said, gesturing for the other apollo kids to follow her.

wills eye twitched. 'of course those fuckers make me do all the work-' his thoughts were cut short by your shy smile and small wave.

"good morning. i am so, so sorry for the ungodly hour." you apologised, fidgeting with one of your many rings.

will blinked, cheeks red and lips slightly parted.

"you see, i was sword fighting and an ares kid accidentally cut my arm," you gestured to a rather deep cut on you bicep. "is there. . .um," you cleared your throat awkwardly as will continued looking like a deer in headlights. "is there anyway i can get it healed? i understand if its too early to use your healing powers-"

"o-of course!" the tired blonde cut you off, "its never too early to heal a fellow camper, duty calls!" he offered a nervous smile, guiding you to an infirmary bed.

'i am going to kill kayla after this.' he thought.

it was awkward. extremely awkward. will tried to make small talk two or three times, yet the words wouldn't leave his mouth.

as the tired healer bandaged you up, you suddenly asked a question.

"have i done something wrong?"

will raised his head from your injury, tilting his head slightly, silently asking you to elaborate.

". . .you are normally so friendly and talkative, but whenever im near you just. . .stop." you started, voice soft as you ran a hand through your hair. "have i done something wrong?"

"y/n. . ."

"i really want to be your friend, will." you cut him off, "you are so amazing and beautiful and kind. . .i just want to be close to you." you rambled, oblivious to the effect your words had on the son of apollo. "so, tell me. have i done something wrong?" you repeated once more, your eyes meeting his.

will looked speechless, hesitantly placing his warm palm on your cheek. "y/n, you've done nothing wrong." he gave you that small, charming smile you could die for. ". . .i'm just. . ." the blue eyed boy sighed, placing his other palm on your free cheek, now completely cupping your face.

"you're just what?"

will took a deep breath,

"im just shy. you are so. . .perfect, y/n. every time i see you, my brain becomes mush and my mouth dries up." he confessed quietly, cheeks red as he looked away.

"you are so beautiful both inside and out i can't help but-" the blonde was cut off by you placing a finger on his lips, biting your bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh.

"william andrew solace, you are a fucking moron."

"oh, please!-"

he was once more silenced as you leaned in and pressed your soft lips on his.

maybe, he would let you win. just this once.

[mrtequilasunset]

I'll never see that girl again He did it as a gag I'll pine away forevermore for Andrew in drag

[arlh0e]

hi!! Would you be able to write a fic where you and hozier have been dating for 3 months and you’re an actress so you’ve been gone for a while and you’re finally reunited and he just realizes how much he loves you and needs you?

Distance never made a difference

I picture this as being written in Andrew’s POV so thats what I did, have fun.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Hozier x fem!reader, fluff, mentions of long distance, established relationship, mutual pining, yearning, realization of feelings, Andrews POV

It had been months since I had seen her.

Being in a relationship with a celebrity of equal popularity to myself had proven to be quite the challenge, she had been away for the entirety of our relationship. Granted, I knew what I was getting myself into, what with how I confessed every feeling I had ever had for her an hour before her flight.

She had been in the US for filming since then, with not so much as a single day off, let alone multiple, there was no way she could even think about coming back to visit during this time and she was stubbornly set on me not coming to visit her. She wanted me to enjoy the time home.

We did talk everyday. Texting when we could, a phone call every night despite the time difference. She did try her best to call as soon as she got off work so as not to keep me up too late, which while appreciated, was an effort made in vain, I was all but nocturnal by now.

What was slightly surprising about the situation was that I wasn’t bothered in the slightest that my sleep schedule had been disrupted amid trying to keep a functioning relationship with her while she was gone. Usually it was at least a little bit annoying to have to adjust myself to make things work with someone else’s schedule, but I didn’t even have to think consciously about it. I wanted to spend every waking hour of my day talking to her, even if it meant waking up at 5 pm and having to hear about it from the band when we started doing late rehearsals instead of in the afternoon.

That much being said, my excitement for her return could not be overstated. She was set to get home in a few hours and I had decided to surprise her.

Her mom had let me into her earlier in the day, I had decided to come over and set up her living room for a nice movie night and I had bought groceries so I could make her dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning assuming she’d let me stay the night. If not that was okay too though, I was grateful for any time I could spend in her presence.

I spend the hours before her arrival cleaning small things around the house, putting new sheets on her bed, setting out blankets for us on the couch, only starting work on our meal when I received her text that she had landed.

The airport was a solid 30 minute drive away from her house, which would give me enough time to get almost completely done cooking by the time she got back. I had bought a rather expensive bottle of wine (my favorite, considering I wasn’t sure of hers, but I knew she preferred red, so I did stick to that.

I took the liberty of picking a record from her collection and playing it while I cooked. While going through her music, I had noticed that she had all of my albums as well as some of the music that I had mentioned I liked. I smiled, I hadn’t known that she’d taken the effort to listen to music I liked before we had started dating. I picked a Nina Simone album, my favorite, and headed back into the kitchen.

Before I knew it, I could hear the front door open, followed by a confused “ehm… hello?” I giggled a little bit and moved to the hallway to greet her.

“I wanted to surprise you, dinners almost done.” I moved to take her bags from her and kissed her softly. “Welcome home.”

She smiled softly and let go of her bags that I was now carrying for her. “How did you get in here?” She looked around, as if the answer would reveal itself to her.

“Oh, your mom let me in.” I put her bags down next to the couch and walked back to the kitchen, finishing up the last few things and putting the food onto two plates.

I set one in front of her on the island she was placed and grabbed 2 wine glasses from the cupboard and the bottle that I had bought earlier.

As we sat down and ate, talking a bit about the months we had missed together, I couldn’t help but just stare at her.

She was so beautiful, like a goddess who fell to earth from the heavens only to spend her time as a muse to some lowly musician whose words could never quite do her justice.

I hadn’t even realized the extent to which I had missed her until now either. Sitting next to her now, my body ached to be near hers, she was magnetic. She was perfect. A living embodiment of the word.

I did my best to hold conversation with her, trying my best not to get lost in her eyes,the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the small upward curve of her lips as she smiled, the laugh lines that were soft, barely visible but I noticed them. She did too. She hated them, though I couldn’t see why, I loved everything about her. She was breathtaking. Every inch of her.

I found myself wanting to fall to my knees in front of her and confess every single feeling I had for her. I loved her. Hopelessly, entirely, shamelessly, I loved her.

And to think that this whole time I had been living without her, it made me feel sick to my stomach honestly, the idea that I had been fooling myself into believing I could live without her in my presence. It was as if I had committed a mortal, utterly unforgivable sin, how foolish of me to believe that I could exist in a world where I was not basking within the warmth of her gaze.

“I am so in love with you.” I could feel the words slip from my mouth, as a smile graced my lips, unable to hold the words in any longer.

I didn’t really care if it was too soon or if she wasn’t ready to say it back, I just had to tell her. It felt sacrilegious not to worship a divine being such as herself in every meaning of the word. She deserved to be told how loved she was frequently.

She giggled. A marvelous sound, melodic and sweet, a sound I had missed so. “I love you so much” she smiled back.

Her words made my heart melt. I couldn’t fathom someone like her feeling this way about me. I felt so beneath her, undeserving, even.

I held out my hand to hold hers on top of the counter, and then pulling our hands gently to my mouth to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

“I missed you, so much darling.”

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE SOMETHING SO SHORT COLLEGE SUCKS I LOVE YOU ❤️

[kazoo-the-demjin]

Imagine of a few years down the line Neil writes a book on his life with the foxes with some background of his past to give the actions and drama context, all but anonymously, and later self-publishes the book titled 'All For The Game' without ever understanding the concept of an editor, and then the foxes reading and immediately knowing it's written by Neil (not that he hid that), and only then fully grasping how each and every action was thought upon, how much he really loves the foxes (they already knew), but most importantly, they gain Neil's insights on everything including Andrew, their conversations, and only then understanding the true dynamics of their relationship while cursing themselves for not figuring it out on their own.

Only then do they change their perception of Andrew's behaviour, but also-

"So Nicky really did not win the bet, Andrew was actually pining so hard already Neil didn't even understand."

"THAT'S HOW ANDREW PROPOSED???"

Neil: So what gave me away?

Andrew: The fact that you made the endgame of the book not the death of the mafia dad but an exy game is what.

[jeremy-knoxs-on-wood]

A short study on Aaron Minyard.

(Bless you @eeriethacus for the ideas and encouragement)

He could have blamed Andrew for everything.

For what had happened to him. For Tilda. For how he felt after all these years.

After seeing how the other Foxes got on with their lives. How they formed relationships, hell even Dan found a father in Wymack.

But Aaron, oh Aaron.

Aaron begged and pleaded with himself to find normalcy, to be good. To be wanted by someone and not be discarded by morning, either by the girl he shared a bed with that night or by himself as disgust and a need to wash it all away came over him.

He blamed it on his classes, on being too stressed and needing to seek out a new stress reliever now that Andrew had forced his hand cleaned.

He couldn't help the sick that came over him, remembering his pitiful form on the bathroom floor, begging, pleading, wanting to be let out and held. Crying out for Andrew to forgive him and for Tilda, despite never having received warmth from her to begin with.

It was a funny thing, Aaron wanting a mother's love when he didn't know what it felt like in the first place. Wanting a woman's love. Wanting the warmth he saw other's received. Watching and living vicariously through the couples that roamed Palmetto campus, or how the danced together in the clubs. How someone, anyone, everyone went home with someone. Everyone but him.

He had tried, bless him he did. He had tried with the flirting, the flowers, the small gifts, the dates. Asking even Matt for advice one time, turning to Allison to find out what women liked and why it wasn't him.

His problem spiraled soon enough, from his first year to his second. He had gone from seeking out someone to date, to hold, to love. To fill whatever he was missing. He had turned to hookups, one night stands.

The touch soothed his aches, lost between the legs of faces that blurred together over the months, searching and craving to be satisfied, but it was more than that. There was something wrong with him.

At least thats what he told himself, and tried to ignore. Ignore how Tilda had pushed boundaries that weren't sexual, but made him throw any care of himself out of the window, unable to say no to a pretty face that spille silky words from their mouth's, Eve drawing Adam to the apple.

Unable to tell them no when he found himself in a new bed and slowly Andrew's warning were being headed and understood.

He couldn't help it, not until red hair came flashing across his vision. She was sweet. A cheerleader transfer. She didn't seem all too interested in him though, as the other had been, but he knew that when he was told no to an offer, to back off.

He watched from afar as she mingled with the right crowd, one Aaron couldn't think to ever find himself in. Watched as she was pined and sought after. As if she was a prize, or a piece of meat laid at the feet of baying dogs. Most men were if given the chance.

Aaron didn't think himself much different, even if his motives were kinder, even though he kept to himself after she said no and sought after what he knew in ofher places, was he not still like those men whistling and calling her name as she walked past?

It wasn't until he was in the library, studying for exams before Columbia when she approached, sitting across from him and asking for help with her studies. That she heard he was great in the curriculum, one of the bests. He hadn't known what to do then other than dumbly nod his head and do as she asked.

Soon the study sessions turned into hangouts, always at hers never at his. And the hangouts turned into dates. He was waiting for the shoe to drop, for her to lash out or get bored of this game that he so eagerly wanted to play a part of.

She didn't though. She stayed. She stayed after Andrew confronted her, after he told her he wasn't what she truly wanted. A part of him hoped that if he scared her off enough, the brutality of another gap would sting a little less. It only confused him more when she stayed.

[hufflegruff]

Chapter 4: A Knowing Look

Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Summary: In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.

“Is that… a mistletoe?” “It… must be Anne’s doing.” Was all Sebastian could say, rather lamely. He was ready to laugh it off. Tell her that it was just a silly little old thing. But to his surprise, she replied almost matter-of-factly: “… Supposedly if we don’t kiss, we’d be doomed to 100 years of misfortune.” Almost cautiously, he replied, “We wouldn’t want that.” “Not at all,” She said as she nodded.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Anne

Winter fell upon Feldcroft. Snow descended upon the Sallows’ home in soft billowy mounds.  

Sebastian had never really understood the appeal of Christmas. It was always too cold, too dark and too stifling to just stay at home. Under Solomon’s roof, he never let himself feel too comfortable. Not even the guise of mulled cider, plum pudding and ornately decorated pine trees could make him put his guard down. He much preferred the freedom of Hogwarts endless hallways. If not for Anne - well, he frankly wouldn’t have bothered to make the trip over. There was little joy to reap or use to gain from seeing Solomon’s irritable face.  

But despite Solomon’s numerous shortcomings, he allowed him to invite both of his best friends over for Christmas. And for that, he was grateful.

Glancing over to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but soften and break into a smile at the sight. Under the glow of the dim candlelight, Ominis and Anne were chatting merrily. 

Ominis normally looked so stoic, like an old man that held the entire weight of the wizarding world in the crease of his brow. That was the blight of the Gaunt family name. But as he sat listening to Anne, who was animatedly retelling one of her classic tales of misadventure, his expression was as light as a feather. Even with his perfectly pressed shirt and impeccably neat cardigan, it was such a relief to see that he could look like an ordinary teenage boy. 

And Anne… Well, Anne had her good days and bad days. Thankfully, today was one of her better ones. She’d been particularly energetic as of late. Despite Sebastian’s protests, she went out of her way to decorate the cottage with wreaths, tinsel and candles galore. Insisting that guests should not be subjected to Christmas in a house so bare.

He hadn’t seen either of them look so content in a while. Not since they were just three kids scheming mischief in the Undercroft. Not since they’ve become three weary people weathered by fate’s hand. 

The normalcy of it all gave him newfound hope. One that felt different from the kind of hope had him hunting ancient relics, ravaging the restricted section, and burning dark wizards ever since Anne got hurt.

This one was softer. Much quieter and warmer. 

Just for today, he would graciously allow himself not to worry. Not of curses or cures or hidden scriptoriums. Just Christmas. Just family and friends.

Anne’s voice broke him out of reverie, “Sebastian! What are you daydreaming about? Come here!” She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.

“Probably best not to know,” Ominis said, “likely something despicable or unlawful.”

“Funny.” Sebastian said dryly, as he made his way over to them, “Utterly hilarious.”

“I am rather, aren’t I?” Ominis replied cheekily.

“If slander is your particular brand of humour.”

“Forget presents,” Ominis’ voice was laced with sarcasm, “Your endless wit is the greatest gift you could ever afford me.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. The mouth on this one.

Sebastian looked around the room and noticed that there was one person sorely missing. Their absurdly lovely (it’s all still very complicated) friend. After the whole Andrew Larson ordeal, he conceded that it was possible that this whole friendship thing… could potentially be more than a friendship thing. 

It was a crush - a flight of fancy. On someone who just happened to be a beautiful, smart and wickedly talented friend.

That was the only way that Sebastian could rationalise it. Crushes were perfectly normal and frivolously fleeting. Calling her a softness, or a fancy or even the object of his affection was all still manageable. It was better than the alternative. Because if he were to start calling it anything more than that… 

Well, that could be perilous.

Love had consequences, and Sebastian wasn’t sure if he was ready to face them.

The girl wonder had also been staying with them in Feldcroft these past two days. Sebastian had only been back at Feldcroft for two days and Anne had already been making terribly sly remarks his way. How could she have known? Had she and Ominis been exchanging letters behind his back?

He supposed that practically half of Hogwarts had already accused him of being infatuated with the girl wonder. But in fairness, the prying eyes of the student body had been privy of his relationship with her for the better half of two years. It made him wonder if he was being so obvious that perhaps even Solomon could sense it too.

That would be mortifying. 

And honestly, after the emotional whirlwind he’d already been on — Sebastian didn’t know how it could get any worse.

He cleared his throat, “Anyways, where’s the girl wonder gone to now?”

Anne shot him a mischievous look that Sebastian knew meant trouble. It was too devilish and deliberate to ignore, and it felt like Anne could see right through him. What was she plotting? Sebastian raised a curious eyebrow in response. 

Anne replied with a shrug, “She’s just gone to the room to grab something.”

And as if it had been planned meticulously ahead of time — the door creaked open and the sound of her footsteps approached.

He turned around and almost made an ungodly sound at the sight. A wrangled, pained sound that he was frankly quite embarrassed to acknowledge. Because this — whatever this was — was something he hadn’t been expecting. 

“Is that my sweater?” Sebastian swallowed thickly.

The girl walked out of the bed chambers in an old green knit sweater with a small embroidered flower on the left corner that looked all too familiar. There was nothing spectacular about it, but Sebastian knew without a sliver of doubt that it was his sweater that hung a little too loosely on her shoulders. Because as most nine year old boys did with their clothes, he had bought it dismissively when he was in Diagon Alley, and wore it to death in his youth. It had been chucked carelessly across fields, caves, bodies of water all across Feldcroft. It was tattered, frayed and looked worse for wear from his haphazard use.

So how in Salazar’s name did it manage to look so damn good on her?

There was nothing precious about it. 

But it was his. And she was wearing it. 

Sebastian was of two minds about it all. He couldn’t quite decide it himself — was this a gift or divine punishment from the Gods? Where had she even found the old blasted thing and was she actively trying to kill him? The niggling urge to touch her was stronger than he had ever felt before. His self-restraint was melting with every second longer his eyes lingered on her. The only thing that was holding him back from holding on to her (and never letting go) was the ridicule he’d most definitely receive from Ominis and Anne.

To his dismay, to the deep sickly pit in the bottom of his stomach — this was very likely something that would be permanently etched into his mind. There was something primal inside the diabolical crevices of his brain that just couldn’t unsee it. Some unhinged line of thinking that his brain managed to conjure up to justify it all. That if she looked this perfectly right in his clothes, he could believe that there was a universe in which she could be his.

That if people could be owned (he knew they couldn’t) — she would be rightfully his.

“Oh, I figured you wouldn't mind,” Anne said, “She was feeling a little chilly, so I gave her one of your old sweaters. You hardly wear it now anyways.”

Almost nervously, the girl wonder gave a small twirl, “Well, it doesn’t look silly on me does it?”

Silly? Sebastian thought. It was a little silly. 

It was silly that the sight of her in his old, worn and beaten sweater that he’d worn to death, made his heart scream out of his chest. How was it possible that she could even make scraps of wool look so bewitching?

It was as if being the wielder of a rare form of ancient magic hadn’t sufficed her hunger for power. It was as if she went out of her way to contrive her very own beguiling brand of magic that would render him a total fucking dunce. How else could Sebastian explain the prickling in his fingertips to reach out to her? Or the compulsion in his chest to bury his face in the crook of her neck? And that stupid sweater must’ve smelled like him. Years and years of him. By that logic — because she was wearing it — that must mean she now smelled like him too.

And the thought of that was almost too thrilling for his chest to handle. 

Merlin. All this overthinking was a testament to the steely grip this witch had on his heart.

Despite his inner turmoil, he just about managed to choke out a response.

“Not at all. It suits you.” 

It more than suited her. In fact if she never wanted to take it off — he’d gladly allow it.

Ominis gave him a pointed look. Anne smiled knowingly. Sebastian wanted to hide. He felt as if his innermost feelings were being paraded on display. Like his internal organs and his blathering heart had been sprawled across the dinner table for everyone to witness. The only person that didn’t seem amused or even remotely aware of his pining was her. She looked at him so sincerely that it was almost distressing. Delightfully doe-eyed, she smiled brightly at his compliment. 

It was so fucking endearing that he had to look away. Any longer and would probably combust on the spot into a fan of pitiful flames. Or collapse from this corny infatuation-induced arrhythmia his heart was suffering from. So he turned to look at Anne scathingly instead. 

“But thanks for asking before you raided my closet, Anne.” Sebastian said chidingly.

Anne smiled mysteriously, ignoring his accusatory tone all together.

“I was being a courteous host is all.” She said innocently.

Sometimes Sebastian forgot how conniving his sister could truly be. He couldn’t decide whether he was annoyed or proud of her shenanigans. 

The girl wonder, sensing something off in Sebastian’s tone, interjected, “Anne was just trying to help. But I can put on something else if you’d prefer—”

“No.” Sebastian said firmly, “You don’t have to. I don’t mind.”

From afar, he heard Ominis snicker.

Ominis was likely calling Sebastian all sorts of embarrassingly belittling names in his head. But that seemed unfair. How was Sebastian supposed to tell her that he would in fact mind it very, very much if she took off his sweater — without sounding like an utter fool? 

“Thank you.” She said with a smile and his heart was beside itself.

In fairness, he supposed that Ominis had been right about one thing. 

Sebastian was a fucking sap.

“I can’t help but picture a young, petulant baby-faced Sebastian running around the house causing all sorts of mayhem in this sweater,” she said full of mirth as she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the sweater in glee. Never had he been jealous of a sweater before. That was new.

“Come off it,” Sebastian retorted, “I’ll have you know I was never a petulant child.” 

Ominis piped, “Never? That’s odd. You’re still perfectly petulant to me.”

“Okay someone put Ominis on a time out please.” Sebastian said grouchily. 

The girl wonder laughed. And like a shot of healing draught down his throat, the sound of it washed away the irritation in the nooks of his taut body.

As she linked arms with Ominis, she said “Come Ominis. I’ll save you from Sebastian’s wrath.”

They retreated into the kitchen, getting plates to help Solomon set up the tables for dinner. With burning eyes, Sebastian watched as they walked away, feeling listless tied to the ground that he stood on. Anne stayed firmly beside him, as if she’d been waiting for this moment to corner him all evening.

“I saw that.” Anne whispered.

His heart leaped, “Pray tell, sister, exactly what you saw?”   

“Oh,” she said coyly, “Just the terribly soppy looks you were giving our friend.”

“Oh.” Sebastian said, almost sounding resigned.

Anne raised an eyebrow, “That’s all you have to say?���

“Well, frankly you’re not the first person to say that to me. So I can’t really give you much points for originality,” He replied dryly, belligerent thinking about the long list of friends (and frenemies in Leander’s case) who had already informed him of his affections towards her.

“Hmm, yes. Ominis did mention something about that,”Anne said.

So Sebastian had been right. They had been exchanging letters. He supposed that there wasn’t much point in denying it anymore. While it was true that he could admit to himself that he cared for her deeply, he hadn’t confirmed it verbally with anyone else. Not even Ominis. 

But maybe it would be cathartic for him to just… say it out loud. To hell with it all.

Maybe this would be a good time to start.

“I guess there’s not much to contest when it’s the truth.” Sebastian tried to say as casually as he could, despite the palpable weight of what he was so blatantly saying. 

Almost gleefully, Anne shrieked, grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him manically, “That’s so very sickeningly endearing for you to say. Who are you and what have you done to my terribly cynical brother?”

He groaned “I don’t know. It’s disgusting isn’t it?”

“Are you in love with her?” Anne squealed as she asked excitedly, ignoring Sebastian’s state of emotional turmoil entirely.

Love? He had wanted to yell. Or throw up. He’d been trying his damn hardest to avoid the word, and now Anne had just thrown it into his face. It had already taken so much out of him just for Sebastian to concede that this could possibly be more than friendship; that this was a romantic affliction. But love? That was a whole other degree and department of troublesome feelings. Love was severe. Love was drastic. Love was a steep curve for him to climb.

Also had Anne forgotten that she was sitting literally right there? In the next room? That she could easily overhear?

With a slight hiss, Sebastian motioned for her to pipe down, “Be a little more discreet would you? Also that’s a little strong. I wouldn’t quite call it… that.”

“Well, then what would you call it?” Anne asked inquisitively.

What was it? That was the ever-complicated question, wasn’t it?

“A crush.” He said simply.

“A crush?” Anne said with a laugh of disbelief, “No way. That brief … whatever you had on Violet McDowell in 2nd year, that was a crush—”

“—God, don’t remind me—” Sebastian said with a grimace at the embarrassing flashback.

But Anne paid no mind as she continued.

“— But this? The way you look at her. The way you speak of her — No matter which way you put it, I don’t think there’s anything else you can call it.”

Sebastian almost took offence at that. Because there had to be something he could call it that didn’t feel so treacherous. That didn’t make him feel like so suffocatingly he’d been backed into a tight corner. 

“It’s… complicated.” He replied lamely.

“Sebastian it’s not like you’re trying to decipher an ancient form of magic,” Anne said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, “It’s just a feeling. It just is or it isn’t. Boys truly are hopeless.”

Sebastian resented that.

“I resent that. It’s not that simple. I’m figuring things out.”

What was the rush anyway? To figure all this out? Love… or whatever this was, wasn’t something to take lightly. He never imagined that Anne would’ve been so frivolous with the word. If anything, he thought that she’d be telling him to tread carefully, not throw caution into the fucking wind. Wasn’t it decidedly worse to say such things so carelessly? To say something that he didn’t mean? 

And if Sebastian was sure of anything, he knew that the girl wonder didn’t deserve anything less than the truth.

“Well you might want to figure things out a tad faster.” Anne said as if to warn him.

And that instantly set off a spiel of alarm bells in his cluttered mind.

“Why? Did she say something to you?” Sebastian said almost in a panic.

“I mean, look at you, Seb. You’re getting frazzled from speculation alone!” Anne exclaimed, as if he’d just proved her point  “No, she hasn’t said anything to me. But do you really want to leave it long enough and risk her being whisked away by someone else?”

Sebastian had recently learned that he absolutely detested that idea.

He learned that he would sooner claw his ears deaf than ever have to endure her being taken away by anybody else.

Not that he had a right to be so dramatic about it, of course. Because people couldn’t be claimed – even if he wished dearly that they could be so. Because she was her own capable witch that had her own fair share of suitors vying for her affection, and Sebastian was (at least at the moment) too cowardly to do anything about it. Because even after all the mental mountains he’d already scaled to admit how fucking enamoured he was by her… he still couldn’t bear say the word love alongside her name. 

But still. Beyond any rational reason he hated the thought of her being with anyone else with an infuriating passion.  

“No.” He admitted.

And maybe that meant Anne was right. 

He had to get his shit together.

“Then, dear brother of mine — a word of advice. And I’m saying this because I love you a stupid amount,” Anne said with a firm pat on his shoulder, “Girls don’t wait forever.”

Dinner had been lovely. They’d been fed all the works; from roast ham to mince pies to Christmas pudding. Sebastian had been surprised that Solomon had brought out all the bells and whistles for them. He couldn’t remember the last time that they’d had a meal so lavish in their humble abode. It must’ve been years. But he gathered that it very likely had to do with their special guests. 

Since Solomon and Anne had done the majority of the heavy lifting with cooking dinner for them, he felt that it would only be fair that he should be the one to endure the surly task of doing the dishes. Which had left Anne gaping in total shock because she knew how fervently Sebastian hated doing the dishes.

“Okay, now you’re truly scaring me. Are you an imposter? Or an impeccably crafted clone?” Anne had teasingly said.

But to his delight (or his horror) the girl wonder had offered to help him.

So that was how Sebastian found himself in the dim kitchen candlelight, standing so closely to the girl that had been plaguing his every thought for the past few weeks. The girl that had been running amok in his tiny, addled brain. His shoulders brushed hers as they did the dishes in the sink. Like the sizzle of fire on an oiled pan or a gulp of caffeine, every little bump made him feel jittery. And there just was something so deeply domestic about this that filled his head with giddiness. 

The smell of soap and sea sponges. The crackle of the fireplace. The muffled chatter from the living room. Her in his sweater. Her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her gloved hands. Her furrowed brow. Her smooth hair swept back in a clip. 

Her in his home. 

As she washed and wiped the dishes, she sang a pretty hum from her lips. It sounded folksy and merry and absurdly lovely in the lilt of her voice — but he didn’t recognise it. He deduced that it was likely one of those muggle tunes she loved so dearly. And he made a mental note to ask her about it when he was less distressed.

It all suddenly felt very dangerous. Largely because of how easily Sebastian could see himself accepting this as a permanent fixture in his life. How easily he could get used to all of this. And he wouldn’t need to be convinced by any means or measure. In fact he’d grovel, pray, beg whatever god or infallible wizard he needed to make this regular occurrence. A taste of this homeliness was enough for him to fold like a cheap suit. 

It was appalling at how a tiny taste of mundanity was enough to devoid him of his wit.

“So…” she began slyly, “Anne told me an interesting story about you and the Neighbour’s garden.”

He felt himself go stiff, because that cloying tone of her voice did not sound good at all. What on Earth did Anne think that she was doing? God what on Earth did he think he was doing? 

“Something about how you ran stark naked around your neighbour’s garden after a little bender down at the pub? ” She said almost all too innocently. He was shocked at how she managed to say such wicked things with such innocuousness.

He groaned in despair. That was not a story that he had ever wanted her to hear.

“Merlin. You need to stay away from Anne.” Sebastian said brusquely. 

“I thought you wanted us to get along?” She said coyly.

His heart jumped. He swore that he could hear a hint of something wicked in the underbelly of her voice. Was she flirting? Because this certainly sounded like flirting.

And if the shivers that ran down the back of his spine was any indication, it sure fucking felt like flirting too.

“Yes, but not at my expense, obviously.” Sebastian said flatly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Fun? Merlin this girl would be the death of him. It was supposed to be Sebastian who flustered her; who said cavalier things that made her blush feverishly and rendered her speechless. It had always worked with the village girls down the stream, or the barmaids in Hogsmeade. But with her — the one girl where it truly mattered — it had never been the case. 

Here she was rendering him a total dunce, and all it took was a coy smile. All this time, Sebastian had thought that she’d been doing it unintentionally. But maybe she’d been doing it more deliberately than she’d let on. And if that was the case…

He wouldn’t survive it.

“You’re becoming more despicable with every passing day.” He retorted wittily, with just enough mirth to appear charming, but not too much as to leave him feeling exposed.

“I did learn from the best.” She replied pointedly and shrewdly.

Admittedly, he felt his chest swell with pride at the idea that she’d learnt it from him.

But before he had the chance to retort, she caught him off guard with a dose of sincerity.

“Thank you for letting me come over this Christmas.” She said quietly, to a backdrop of the running water tap and the clinking of ceramic plates.

She was thanking him so earnestly. And Sebastian wished he could take credit for it. Pretend that he was totally selfless in inviting her into his home — but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be wrong. 

The girl wonder had made it known to him early in the year that she had planned to stay in the castle over Christmas. And when she had first mentioned it several months ago, Sebastian had felt restless — but at the time, he hadn’t known why. 

After months of emotional whiplash, it was safe to say that he now had a clearer idea. 

“Couldn’t let you stay alone in the castle, now could I?” Sebastian said.

“I mean you could’ve.” She joked.

He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have. But how else was Sebastian meant to explain that without confessing some degree of his despairing devotion to her? How was he to explain to her that actually, she was doing him this favour? By being here, with him, in the dim corner of his childhood kitchen light. How else was he to explain to her that if she hadn’t, even if she stayed by herself in the hallowed halls of the castle, he’d still be the lonelier one between them?

He couldn’t. So he needed to keep it brief.

“No,” he said surprisingly sincerely, “I really couldn’t.”

And all of a sudden, the weightless atmosphere that once pervaded the room was now gone. The muffled voices from the living room became soft. Even the soreness in his fingers from all the dish-washing dulled. What was left was only the sincerity in his voice now. He hadn’t intended to sound so… honest, but he guessed that she naturally brought it out of him. 

He could only hope that he hadn’t… totally freaked her out.

He turned to look at her, to say something either aloof or wildly charming — but he soon realised that it was a grave mistake. Because suddenly, he was looking right at her, and she was looking right at him. And with one measly look, Sebastian’s chest felt tighter and the air felt thinner.

(This was happening so often, really — you’d think that he would’ve been more accustomed to it all by now.)

Her eyes flicked up to something above them that had caught her attention; but Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to look up — or care in all honesty. Too enraptured by the magnetic pull of her eyes. 

But the next words she uttered out of her lips, he couldn’t have ever ignored: 

“Is that… a mistletoe?” 

Sebastian almost wanted to laugh. Because surely, he had to have misheard.

Because a fucking mistletoe?

But alas, magically above them, a mistletoe sat. In all its almost mocking, prickly glory, a mistletoe was perched on the edge of the hanging kerosene kitchen lamp.  All of a sudden, blood was rushing in his ears, drowning out the rest of the room. All that he could hear was the thunderous pounding thump of his relentless heartbeat banging against his eardrums. 

When Sebastian realised that he hadn’t spoken for a while, he racked his tiny anxious brain for something meaningful, charming, or at least coherent. 

“It… must be Anne’s doing.” Was all Sebastian could say, rather lamely.

Was this Anne’s idea of helping him move along? To make it all go a little faster? Because if that were true, this was the most insane plan he’d ever heard of. And Sebastian was normally the mastermind behind the most ludicrous and most asinine of plans — so trust that he could spot one a mile away.

If he hadn’t loved his sister so dearly, he would’ve banished her out to the neighbour’s cottage for the rest of the night for all the emotional strife she was causing him! If he were to die young from all the heart palpitations this meddling was sure to give him — he’d vow to haunt her endlessly for eternity.

Because coercing the girl that he… had very strong feelings for… into kissing him would not bode well on his conscience. Or his ego. Or his delicately constructed sense of self-worth. In fact it would rather bruise him if she were to kiss him out of some sort of misplaced obligation.

No matter how heavenly he knew it would probably feel.

Sebastian could feel himself literally teetering on the brink of perilous precipice; between what he could do next… but also what he should most definitely not do next.

This was all feeling too loud and too radical for him to bear. How did kissing her suddenly factor into this equation?

… But as if by wicked instinct, his gaze dropped down onto the curve of her lips — and he absolutely loathed himself for it. 

Gods, wouldn’t it be nice to kiss her?

(Another one of those absurd, intrusive thoughts of his.)

He was ready to laugh it off. Tell her that it was just a silly little old thing. Some outdated conventions. They didn’t have to go through with it. In fact, they could spare themselves the embarrassment and never speak of this ever again if she willed it so. 

To his surprise, she replied almost matter-of-factly:

“… Supposedly if we don’t kiss, we’d be doomed to 100 years of misfortune.”

Like a slow sinful poison, he felt his body go numb in shock. Like a match to a barren wick, he felt his mouth go dry. Had he heard right? 

Was she implying what he thought she was implying?

Almost cautiously, he replied, “We wouldn’t want that.” 

It was true, he wouldn’t want that. 100 years of misfortune wouldn’t do him any good in trying to court the girl before him.

“Not at all,” She said as she nodded.

So it was only logical that they had to kiss.

“100 Years is… a long time,” He rationalised.

He almost couldn’t believe the words tumbling out of his mouth. 

“A lifetime long,” She agreed.

Forget what he was saying — why was she encouraging this?

“And I suppose it is tradition,” He justified.

“Right. Tradition.” She clarified.

When she’d put it like that, it seemed entirely sensible. Almost as if doing anything else would be totally irrational. Sebastian normally skewed towards irrationality, because what was life without a little bit of unreasonableness… 

But if she was readily weaving this enticing thread of logic for him — he would obediently surrender to her pull.

Sebastian waited for the punchline. The cruel joke. For her to say she was, “just kidding, of course!” 

But even after what felt like aeons of silence — it never came. He wondered if she could read him. If she knew that he was all unbridled nerves and anticipation in this lanky body of his. All he saw was her, looking straight at him. No distractions, just a firm sense of purpose. And he wondered what was behind her eyes. Was she nervous? Because he was fucking nervous. 

Why didn’t she look nervous?

A lull fell over them, and it was as if they’d reach an impasse. As if it were a silent agreement between two precarious souls.

“So I guess-” He began.

“Right.”

He supposed that was confirmation enough. For him to press on. To take the next step.

But what was the next step? This didn’t come with a fucking manual. How was he to go about kissing the girl that had plagued his every waking thought now that she was all but offering it?

He supposed he just had to take it.

So he did.

He took a daring step forward, and he swore that he could see a slight tremor in her throat. It was tiny, almost imperceivable, but honest to god, it helped him breathe a little. Because it meant that maybe she wasn’t so unbothered by this treacherous proximity as she appeared to be. 

When he looked at her closely and scrutinised every crinkle in her eye, he saw a sliver of something he hadn’t seen before. Something familiar. Like the flicker of a yearning and restlessness he saw so often in himself. In the rounds of her cheeks, he could make out the outline of a growing blush, betraying the effect his closeness had on her.

With every passing second he inched closer, Sebastian could feel something growing inside him. Breaking out in the pit of his stomach like turbulent waves. A feeling he knew would only be quelled if he managed to get his mouth onto hers. Until he knew what every inch of her lips tasted like.

Was he really about to do this?

Sebastian was still holding onto the dishes in the sink. But fuck the dishes. He didn’t have the time to put that shit down. He’d carry the weight of every stupid dish, cup or ceramic bowl if it meant that he’d be able to touch her.  

“Merry Christmas Sebastian.” She whispered.

And what a lovely whisper it was.

Before her hands ever touched him, her voice did. It embraced him everywhere; his arms, down his spine, even in the unknown depths of his heart. He felt his chest melt a little with something warm and soft and so, so pleasant. In this moment, he allowed himself to believe it. Believe that maybe he could be in love with her. Maybe he was already knee-deep in it; buried thousands and thousands of feet below the weight of his burdensome feelings.

And that this love wouldn’t kill him. It wouldn’t hurt him. It wouldn’t be wrong or scary or restricting.

He could love her and still breathe.

She was so close. Just one more step and they’d meet.

Fuck his ego. Fuck his conscience. Fuck his brittle his self-worth. He would fucking kiss her like his entire measly existence depended on it.

It was just on the tip of his tongue. It was right there for the taking. It was—

“Hey, Dessert’s ready—” 

— Ominis?

As quickly as heaven had opened its gates, it had also come crashing down like a train wreck. 

Like a brutal punch to the gut, Sebastian was thrown back into a sobering reality. Ominis’s sharp voice had popped the fragile little bubble they’d temporarily created. 

Wasn’t the universe just fucking cruel?

And as much as he loved his best friend, he had never ever hated him more. Of all the moments that he could’ve chosen to walk in on… this was what he decided on?

Silence hung in the air. The shadow of something that almost happened lingered like a half-spoken sonnet, begging to be finished. Sebastian searched for the right words, searched for clarity in the fog, searched for the will to string his thoughts together — but it all eluded him.

“...Did I interrupt something—”

“N-No!” “Nope.”

Her face was flushed crimson. His was probably no better.

Thank Merlin, Ominis was blind.

As if by magic, they were now a whole metre apart. Now that Sebastian had a taste of closeness, this distance starved him. It felt like a cruel, deprivation 

A heavy silence settled between them, with each second stretching out for what felt like an eternity. Ominis hadn’t seen them, per se — but Sebastian had a feeling that he could sense that he had just ruined… something significant.

Love might not have killed him, but this painfully awkward silence would.

"Right... well. Solomon asked me to get you both," Ominis finally broke the silence, his tone tinged with clear discomfort.

The ambiance dissipated, the moment was gone. Replaced by the ordinary state of affairs they were forced to return to.

“We’ll—” Sebastian began to say with a slight croak, before clearing his throat, “We’ll be right there.”

He couldn’t bear to look at her as he rushed out to the living room, where normalcy awaited him.

There went his bloody chance.

“Ominis, my plan!” Anne said in a rushed whisper as she pulled the blonde boy into an alcove of the small Sallow residence.

He looked back at her guiltily, with only the slightest hint of a grumble, “Well you could’ve told me about the plan ahead of time…”

“We were so close!” Anne said

“I’m sorry…”

——

Notes

GOSH I apologise so deeply for how atrociously long this chapter took!!! It took me so long, even though I've literally had the outline for it from the very early stages of this fic!

But work did not kill me and I have a new chapter for yall <3

I made sure to sprinkle all the good tropes like, the classic wearing his sweater trope, the oh is that a mistletoe? trope, the almost kiss trope!!! AHHHH I hope you guys like it :)

My HC that the only person that can tame Ominis' outta pocket sass is Anne.

I'm so sorry if you guys have been waiting, and if you're still reading THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

Shoutout to the very very lovely, @wt-fxck @deliciouslyferal @sonicranger1 @spaceyaceface @eleanorstaghart @ithinkweallsing @somethingiswrongwithme @tlnyjoong @musicbecky @oliviajdjarin @intheshadowofthegame @weeb-shitss FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND THE TAGS!!!!

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The School Trip: Ch 1- Bus Trip

Summary: Jason and yourself are teachers at a high school. This long weekend you are taking all the science kids in your class to Central City to visit Star Labs and the handsome lit teacher has come along as an extra chaperone.

ScienceTeacher!Reader x EnglishTeacher!Jason Todd.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Slowish burn, multiple parts. mutual pining, teenagers, swearing, NO CAPES, smutty books.

"Mason, you gotta put that under the bus." Jason says, as Mason attempts to carry his full duffle bag through the door of the bus.

"But it's got all my stuff in it?"

"Yeah, all our stuff is under there. It'll be fine." He sees the boy's arms stiffen around the bag, "And how's cherry going to sit next to you with your bags taking up the room?"

"Good point, sir." 

"Nice work," you smile, nudging Jason in the.arm, "thought we'd have to travel with his smelly socks for a second there."

"Unlucky for you, you gotta sit next to my stinky socks the whole way instead." Jason jokes, enjoying the way your nose crinkles at the thought. It’s a small thing, but fuck its cute. This is going to be a long ass weekend, hopefully he can get to know you a bit better. He’s tried over the last few months since you started at his school, but there was always something pulling him away, whether it be curious kids asking questions or the need to get out and get home as soon as possible, there was always something. But now he’s got 3 nights and nearly 4 whole days to get to know the cute science teacher who always seems so much cleverer than him. One thing he knows for certain, something you always seem open to talk about is your cats, Rex and Cody. He’s seen pictures of the Russian Blue and the Orange kitties on your desk and it was the second thing he ever knew about you. 

Zoning back into reality as you try to usher him further onto the bus, before trying to push past him, "how are the cats going to cope without you for a few days?" he asks, not wanting to get into his interrogation of all your interests too early on.

"They'll be good. I've got a friend staying with them."

"A boyfriend?" Jason's eyes stare at your feet as you hop on the bus in front of him. He wants to look at your ass, it looks so good in those fucking jeans, but this is a work trip and he's so thankful that there's 30 fucking kids between you to keep him distracted. He just wants to get to know you, he tells himself, to make a new friend. He had so few friends in the staff, it wouldn’t be appropriate at all.

"Nah, my bestie. She's really cool." You smile as you take your seat at the front of the bus, the loud noise of thirty mouths going at once clogging your ears, "I think you'd like her."

"If she's anything like you-" he's cut off by a loud f bomb called out from the back of the bus and Jason's curiosity dies as Mr Todd rises in his chest.

"Yo! Young people!" You call before Jason even has a chance to stand up, "Mr Todd here is an old soul, so how bout we keep the F bombs to a hushed whisper, yeah?" A quiet sigh of 'yes miss' spread through the seats. "Maybe give him the illusion that the science program isn't running a meth lab?"

"Don't tell him that miss," Keira calls from the middle.

"He'll want a cut of our profits," Jayda laughs.

"Don't cross her, she'll make us do essay's." Andrew sniggers crouched behind a seat.

When their quiet charter starts up again, you turn to sit back down noticing Jason talking to the driver behind you.

"We're ready to go." Jason taking his seat next to you, his legs bunched up, the small confines of the front seat not enough for his massive legs. You try not to think about sitting next to him, about his wide frame nudging you as you bounce along, the long highway towards Central City. You need a distraction, something else to think about and not how his arms look under that fucking cardigan.

"Awesome, can't wait to spend my weekend with these delinquents."

"You're really good with them, you know."

"It's not hard. They're good kids."

"Some of them," he peers around, catching Theo pulling something from his bag.

"Nah, all my kids are great."

The driver pulls from the curb and you push into your handbag, pulling out a book.

"Can I ask you something?" Jason leans over, whispering in your ear.

""You can."

"Are you really selling meth with the kids?"

"Why? You a narc?"

"No. I just- you just- you said and i-"

"Dude chill," you slap him playfully with your book, "you don't need to be so serious."

"So should I read this instead?" He jokes, taking in the risque cover of the book, over the dark fae and his barely dressed companion, "how does a Misty Door work?"

"Shhh." You hush him, snatching the book back, "they think I enjoy reading science journals, don't blow my cover."

"Your secret's safe with me."

4 hrs and 1 nap later.

"Ok, people. We're at our stops for the night. Dinner will be at 6 and Miss has your room keys. Don't wander too far and try not to light anything on fire."

"Try our best." Keira calls out, giving him a wave as the kids start to grab their things and pile from the bus.

"Watch this." You smile at him, your hand wrapping around his bicep as a reflex to get him to stop. But then he looks down at you and you feel your heart start to race, shit. You shouldn’t have touched him. Now he’s looking at you like he’s got a bug on his arm, “Sorry,” you pull your arm away and he ducks back under the bus, "Todd, you're missing it!" you turn from him, not wanting to miss the display yourself. You heard a thud behind you and turn to see him rubbing at a spot on his head, what the fuck was he doing?

He can feel his face heating up, his heart is racing and all you did was have a hand on him. What is going on with him today? Couldn't be the way you let out little snores when you fell on him as you passed through the forest or the delight at how dirty your books are. Calm, calm down, a friend, yeah. She's just being friendly, he convinced himself, but when you call him he can help but respond. Maybe a bit too quickly, "What? What did I miss?"

"Look." You tilt your head towards the crowd of girls, "look what they're doing." You raise your brows in the direction of the young women, trying to get him to notice.

"What are they doing?"

"Just watch."

The girls each walk into the grassy park area near the hotel, each one pulling out a notebook.

"What's in those bags?" Jason asks, noticing how they're laying them in front of them.

"Magic." you nudge him, gently, trying to keep to yourself after the way he reacted to your touch before. "they're doing-"

"Magic? Really? Are they going to turn us into worms?'

"You still wanna hang out with me if I was a worm?"

"Don't think I got much choice. You're the only other adult I know in this city."

"Not for long. We're about to meet the hotel clerk and grab everyone's room keys."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to hang out with ��� he gestures towards the older looking woman behind the counter, the light pink and blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulders and the long pearl string connected to her glasses.

"You never know. She might be a secret spy."

"Now that would be impressive.

“Wouldn't it? She'd look killer in a catsuit and heels.”

“OK, you ruined it.”

“Nah, I made it better.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, cheers. Now let's go sort this shit out.”

“Lead the way.”

Ch 2: Dinner

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