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kittyoncescribbled · 1 month ago

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Check-Mate.

Summary: Mihawk thought he was too old to believe in silly things like love at first sight, but things change;

Word count: 2,453;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, AFAB reader;

Author’s note: Hi, guys! This is my first time writing for Mihawk; he might be a little OOC, but I'm still trying to find my footing with him. Feedback would be deeply appreciated. Please reblog/like if you enjoy this!

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You stared down at your plate, trying not to look miserable.

Sanji had outdone himself once again and brought out a dinner that seemed more fit to a king — and you knew it, as you were now a fugitive princess who escaped an evil uncle who wanted to marry you off to any weak man who he could control and, by extension, keep his hold on the throne and power: more specifically, your power, as you had eaten a devil fruit and now has something similar to Midas’ touch. But looking down at the plate in front of you, you couldn't help but notice that it was beautiful, smelled delicious, and you were sure that it tasted heavenly… but it was different.

Not from most of the crew; your plate looked the exact same as the ones in front of Luffy, Usopp, or even Zoro. But Nami and Robin had plates adorned with flowers and beautifully placed garnishes in front of them. It was evident how much time, effort, and appreciation had gone into their presentations.

It was quite common at this point, and you took notice of it almost instantly. Sanji was the one who helped you escape after some of the servants in the castle tr, guiding you by the hand through the streets of your city — the streets you didn't know, as your uncle had kept you hiding inside the guarded walls of the castle since you were a young girl — and into the Thousand Sunny; you chose to go with the strawhats, and now there was a hefty bounty prize to whoever brought you back home alive.

And you couldn't help but fall head over heels for Sanji, the first person ever to show you kindness or to see you as a person, not just someone from the royal family or their entryway into fortune or power. And it was painful to see how differently he treated you when compared to the other girls on the crew or to any pretty woman from the islands you guys visited; you could never accuse Sanji of being rude or mean, but he just treated you the same way he treated the guys or Chopper, and you just sat there ruminating on why would that be — you weren't pretty enough, nice enough, feminine enough?

All of that went through your mind while you stared down at your plate, and you could see the looks from Nami, Usopp, and Robin; they all kind of knew how you felt about Sanji — not that you were able to hide it — and the sadness showing up in your eyes made them empathetic. But it's not like you had openly talked about it with them, so none of them felt comfortable asking you if you were okay.

“Sanji, why is YN's plate different?” Chopper asked sweetly. You felt the cook freeze on the spot and grabbed your fork and knife as if you didn't hear it. “What do you mean, Chopper?” “Well, Nami and Robin’s plates and drinks are always prettier and nicer because they're women, right? So why does Y/N get regular food like the rest of us?”

“It's okay, Chopper,” you said with a smile to the doctor. “It's fine. Sanji's cooking is the best with flowers or without, right?”

“Y-YN, m'sorry, let me take care of it and—” Sanji started, his face beet red, trying to get the plate back, but you grabbed his wrist, startling him. “Don't.”

Your tone was icy and harsh, as they had never heard before, and the shift in the room's atmosphere was noticeable; the tension could be cut with a knife. Embarrassed, you simply grabbed your plate and went back to your dorm, locking the door behind you.

It was now days later, and things were still weird between you and Sanji. Chopper had asked for your forgiveness, but you had repeatedly reassured him that there was nothing to be forgiven. You did your best to avoid Sanji and the others, choosing to spend most of your days on a little spot of the deck Franky had added some stuff for you: a chess table with magnetic pieces so they wouldn’t get knocked over by the constant movement of the boat and a telescope. You still did your chores and helped, but you chose to be in your quarters or play chess alone.

On that specific afternoon, you were doing laundry — the little laundry you had, as you were still a bit uncomfortable buying clothes for yourself, and your old clothes, all frilly lace and flowy dresses, weren’t fit for life in a pirate ship; Robin once chuckled and said that you, always wearing jeans and white button-ups, looked like a cartoon character and Nami had promised she’d take you out for a shopping spree on the next island with good shops — when a commotion started on the deck. Leaving your load of laundry behind, you grabbed your bow and ran to the deck.

Dracule Mihawk stood there like an exotic animal, and you, still holding your bow up, made your way until you were close to Robin. “So… there’s a Cross Guild member on our deck, and no one’s doing anything about it?”

“That’s Zoro’s mentor,” Robin explained with a small chuckle. “And he said there are things he needs to discuss with our captain.”

The small exchange between you and Robin caught Mihawk’s attention, and you froze in your place, unable to react under such an intense gaze. Lowering your weapon, you regained some of your spirit and stood straight, staring right back at his yellow eyes, not backing down when he made his way toward you.

“Your royal highness,” Mihawk said with a courtesy, and, out of habit more than anything else, you presented your hand, which he brought to his lips without ever breaking eye contact. In the corner of your eye, you could see Nami and Robin raising eyebrows and Zoro looking like he was about to combust, but none of that mattered. Luffy showed up on deck, and Mihawk slowly made his way to the captain. After a short exchange of words, Luffy guided the swordsman to somewhere where they could talk a bit more privately, and you relaxed, still next to Robin. From across the deck, Sanji stared at you fiercely and seemed to be biting his lips, but you simply turned your back and returned to your laundry.

Mihawk was far too old to believe in love at first sight, or at least that is what he thought.

He had his fair share of lovers throughout the years, but those were just flings; someone to scratch the itch, if you will. Nothing ever lasted for more than a couple of weeks, and he never bothered to make it last. He was quite content with that, as he very much enjoyed the silence and peace in his life, especially now that neither Zoro nor Perona were there to cause a stir, but he had felt intrigued by you ever since he had read about your escape on the paper; coincidentally he had matters to discuss with Luffy, so he could take a good look on your, and take a good look he did.

Even in regular clothing that seemed too plain for you, you still seemed regal — it was something in your posture and how you held your head high. If you thought he looked out of place as an exotic bird, Mihawk could say the same about you; he could read in your body language that you still felt out of your element — like when you were holding your bow, much more like someone used to hunt for sport than to be in the middle of battle shooting arrows at enemies. The pictures in the papers or wanted posters did you no justice, as they couldn’t capture the expression of longing and sadness in your eyes or the way you bit your lips, unsure of what to do next.

As much as Mihwak would have adored spending more time admiring you, he was there on business, so he excused himself and retreated to discuss some important topics with Luffy.

And even though he couldn't deny that he looked for you the same way a moth looked for a flame, Mihawk pushed the “love of first sight” idea to the back of his mind. Attraction, definitely; infatuation, maybe. But love?

That wasn’t a possibility.

He wasn't expecting to see you alone on deck when he was preparing to leave. Enjoying the sunshine, you sat in front of a game of chess, seemingly trying to understand what the next move would be. Without making a sound, Mihawk walked until he was standing behind you, and, without saying a word, he reached his arm and moved one of the white bishops.

Startled, you turned over on your chair and looked up at the swordsman. “That was the best next move. What to do next?” he asked, looking attentively into your eyes. You stuttered for a moment, eyes darting everywhere while trying to think of the right answer. “Come on, take your time, Your Royal Highness. There is no right or wrong answer here.” Mihawk said with a low chuckle while taking the seat directly in front of you and putting his sword down close to him.

“Yes, there is,” you retorted, holding your chin with one hand and tapping on the table with the other. “If I make the wrong move, that's a check. And there's no need to use titles here, please. Outside the realm, I'm not ‘royal highness’; I'm just Y/N.”

“As you wish, miss Y/L/N.” Mihawk felt very happy with himself when he saw a light blush creeping up your neck and ears. “But tell me, why would you be here by yourself?”

“My apologies, sir, but why are you sitting here, asking me this? You don't seem the type to enjoy small talk,” you asked uncertainly, not trying to be rude but genuinely intrigued.

“I am merely curious about you, miss Y/L/N. You're a runaway princess in a pirate ship with a crew famous for getting themselves in trouble. You are an interesting person, and I want to know more about you.” The tips of your ears turned into a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, there was a situation the other day. And I'm feeling a little embarrassed about it, so I’d much rather stay by myself.”

“Just… A situation?”

“Yeah, I’m not about to start sharing the owes of my pathetic love life with a man I don’t know,” she said with a bitter smile.

“Would it have something to do with the cook, who is over there looking like he wants to kick the lights out of me?” Y/N rolled her eyes and made her move on the chess board. “Just… ignore him. Whatever happened, it’s unimportant”.

Mihawk simply acquiesced and made his move on the chess board. Eventually, you two fell into a comfortable silence while playing. You kept your focus on the chess board, attentively studying and thinking about your next move, but Mihawk was studying you.

You were clearly not comfortable in your own skin yet; your clothes, as simple as they were, showed that you were not sure what style would suit you best or that you, under the thumb of your uncle from a young age, still had to figure out what clothes you liked best. Your hair, pulled back in a ponytail, probably reached your waist, but maybe you had no idea how to style it. You were someone being free for the first time in your life,

“Would you like to drink something? I wouldn’t get you the boat fuel that Zoro likes to drink, but I do have some red wine in my cabin,” she asked tentatively. Mihawk nodded and watched as she walked away, groaning internally as the blond cook took her place.

“What are you doing with Y/N?”

Mihawk stared down at the blond and tilted his head, feigning ignorance; you didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had transpired between you and the cook, and he wasn’t one to be intrusive into others' personal lives. “Playing chess and having a glass of wine. Why?”

Sanji pressed his lips into a thin line, grabbing the chess board so hard his knuckles turned white. “You’re trying to flirt with her? Romance her? Get laid?”

“I am merely getting to know the lady. That’s all. She is quite a beautiful woman, though, and I believe that if something were to happen, she wouldn’t need to ask for permission from any of you. And I also believe this conversation is over,” Mihawk said with a voice smooth as silk, his hand gliding over his sword’s handle — a silent but powerful warning. Sanji looked in the direction of your steps, seeing you coming over with two glasses and a wine bottle.

He glanced at Mihawk, radiating rage, but got up and went back to the kitchen.

You took back your sit and poured over the wine for the both of you, completely ignoring Sanji and pretending you didn’t see him. With your wine glass in hand, you pulled your knee close to your chess and mulled over your next move. The two of you again fell under a silent spell, sipping on the wine you had brought out and waiting for the others' turn to be over. You tried your best not to stare but managed to steal a couple of glances at the warlord, still wondering why such a man would be spending his time at the deck of the Thousand Sunny, playing chess. It felt good to spend time with someone who didn’t look at you pitifully, though, and it had been a long time since you had a chess partner, so you weren’t going to complain.

“Ah! Check-mate!” you said, triumphant, your lips parting in a bright smile while you picked the king from Mihawk’s side of the chessboard.

“Well done, miss Y/L/N,” Mihawk had a gentle look and something on his lips that, to someone who knew him quite well, could be considered a small smile. “I do have to go; I am afraid I might have overextended your crew’s generosity by overstaying, but after my discussion with your captain, it is my understanding that you will have to stop by my island. It would be my pleasure to have a rematch.” Mihawk stood up and, again, reached for your hand.

“Of course, sir,” you said as he kissed your knuckles before grabbing his things and leaving.

Sanji watched all of this from afar, seething.

#mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece fanfic #one piece #✍🏾 kitty writes

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purplekiwis · 1 year ago

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𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

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Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old person they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to do.

Their journey was always the same. As they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

That day was no different. They'd just grabbed their pizzas, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was annoyed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick her favorite drink, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her usual go-to snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to his mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the paper with you.”

“I do every paper with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him annoyed about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really went anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in that stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had gaming-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how green his eyes were.

He thought Y/N had nice eyes as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started later than usual, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I found this really cool essay and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could collect samples of these microbes and study them in the school lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the bedframe. “Do you really find these stupid water microbes that interesting?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered that there could be some growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.” Due to the silence that followed, Harry realized that despite Y/N's efforts to keep him company, she was moments away from falling asleep. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need to close my eyes for a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “Do you mind if use your covers? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a good looking girl would be using his bed and leaving her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was hot. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled a lot that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two islands since they keep coming up.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago in Portugal.” With that, he rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up as a burning wave swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm and shook it. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel like shit.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just joking.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… cringy, scripted porn… you know, the usual “oh no, I’m stuck!” stuff that shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I've watched my share too and overall, I think it's much better than that other stuff you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he felt so keen on sharing all of a sudden, but weirdly, he was kind of enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and like... telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very real feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like to hear girls telling you what to do? because you're a bit unexperienced?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed right here so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He smiled at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of worrying about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could go back and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I've been thinking about switching to contacts. I was also thinking it could be nice to exercise a bit just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things to make me feel better but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind, really.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never serious… since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or being into anyone, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something he'd end up regretting. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don't think it's funny, like, at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember when we were kids... my parents took us to a fancy playground by a lake and... there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it away?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone that Nintendo’s were waterproof. Your parents got so mad, and she wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was nasty... and it made me upset that you’d left me to play on the slide alone.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day sometimes... it makes me feel embarrassed obviously, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends I would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I'm tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, even though I like those things, they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I liked it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is the most fun part.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your glasses are getting in the way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her body over his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the tingle on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction.

She could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want to get all wet from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of their pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me. Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so good like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that, boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest. So he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing it this way, like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got Y/N right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his free hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even wetter as he rubbed her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and laid down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #nerd!harry #sub!harry #harry styles x you #purplekiwis #kissable

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b4nka1 · 1 year ago

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my favorite animated men and random things they do when jealous and want to grab your attention!

warnings: suggestive content (mentions of smut), misogyny, toji being nice, jjk manga spoilers. not proofread.

— FUSHIGURO TOJI : he would pout as you were busy with your office work. sure, you did love him, but your work was your priority for now. he would slowly walk into your room, standing behind you as you worked. he'd start massaging your shoulders, and within seconds, your eyes closed and body relaxed. "mmh, just right, baby..." you whispered to toji, you was still carefully and gently massaging your shoulders.

"if you gave me a tad bit more attention, i'd make you feel far far better, princess..."

— RYOMEN SUKUNA : he grumbled in annoyance when you paid no attention to him. the king of curses wanted to be mad but couldn't because you were so happy playing with the new puppy he'd gotten for you. you were laughing and giggling as the puppy kept whining and climbing over you. he got the most jealous when you kissed the puppy on its yucky, disgusting mouth, according to him. within seconds, he took the puppy from your hands and put the puppy back in his crate. he turned back towards you, picking you up and dragging you to the bathroom to make you brush your teeth.

"why'd you kiss that puppy on its disgusting mouth? now i can't kiss you without feeling disgusted."

— GOJO SATORU : he was pretty much annoyed at the fact that you were paying more attention to the three freshers than him. he scowled at megumi, who was getting more interest from your end. he was beyond irritated at this point. he sure was jealous but didn't admit it, not even to himself.bhe had to butt in, of course. his possessive ass simply couldn't handle the fact that you're quite nice and friendly. he stomped over to you, with a tiny pout on his face and his brows furrowed together.

"they're my students, but i hate the attention you're giving them."

— KUROSAKI ICHIGO : isn't exactly the type to get jealous, but he is very possessive. whenever he notices another man, especially abarai renji talking to you, he would ever so casually walk over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. he'd indulge himself in the conversation, laughing and nodding with whatever was going on. his arms would then creep down your back slowly as the conversation proceeded. he'd ever so subtly squeeze your butt and act as if nothing happened after he did so. when renji notices, he takes a leave and waved goodbye to you. you turn to ichigo and scold him for doing so.

"what? i'm just squeezing what belongs to me, you don't get to scold me on that."

— GETO SUGURU (villain era, you're not on his side) : he is a calm and collected man. but when he notices you and satoru being too close physically, practically invading each other's personal space, a smile and a bulging vein of anger on his forehead is prominent on his face. he silently swore to get you fucked raw before the war broke out. mimiko immediately notices this and huffs, "why don't you already go claim what's yours?" she snorts, going back to doing something on her phone.

"well, she will suffer. so what if we drifted apart? who is she to move on from me? she's still mine."

— NANAMI KENTO : he had been working overtime and came home late. to make matters worse, he found you on a long ass call with one of your guy friends, who used to like you. dismissing the jealousy, he took a shower and ate the dinner you prepared for him. and to make matters even worse, you were laughing at something he told you about. he was clearly frustrated and irritated, and of course, jealous of your little guy friend. when he had enough, he snatched the phone from you, putting it to his ear,

"either you end the call or hear me fuck her dumb and make her scream my name."

— ZARAKI KENPACHI : despite his rough and tough demeanor, poor guy also gets jealous of you spending time with ikkaku and yumichika. he tries his best not to show it as a kenpachi but fails when yachiru notices it. "ken-chan, don't worry, i gor your back!" she giggled happily. she searched around the seireitei and finally found you casually hanging out with yumichika. she walked over to you and held your hand. you raised your brows in surprise when she tugged you to the direction of the squad 11 barracks. she pushed you into zaraki's room, closing it behind her. zaraki sighed, hugging your waist.

"sorry, i kinda felt...jealous but didn't show it because of my status...i'll buy yachiru some treats for helping me."

— ABARAI RENJI : has his zanpakuto ready in its shikai state when you were found talking to ichigo. he angrily stomped over before byakuya stopped him. "they're just friends." he told renji and ordered him to sheathe his zanpakuto. renji grumbled and followed his order, stomping towards you, with a small pout on his face. he kept on giving ichigo glares until he took the signal and left.

"next time i see that piece of shit, i'm making him watch me pound into you."

— ZENIN NAOYA : oh boy, this misogynistic bastard wasn't ready to accept the fact that he was being jealous because his stupidly handsome cousin toji was being nice to you, complete contrast of how naoya usually treats you. toji helped you in the kitchen, he helped you with cleaning and helped you do the laundry. but naoya lost it when toji's arm wrapped around you instinctively as you were about to slip and fall. naoya grumbled, waiting until toji was out of sight. he pulled you by your kimono to his room, slamming you ruthlessly into the bed.

"that bastard crossed the line. might as well show him who this pretty but useless wife belongs to."

— KINJI HAKARI : is chill on the outside but the anger is bubbling within him inside as he watched your yoga instructor from afar being too touchy with you. his let out a low growl when he placed a hand on your hip and squeezed the skin. hakari had enough when the yoga instructor smirked and placed a hand on your inner thigh to "fix your posture," rubbing it sensually. you were too innocent to notice that. in a flash, hakari punched him square on the nose, stomping on the scum's face before leaving with you.

"he doesn't know.who he's messing with. we are finding you a new instructor. this one's gonna be fed to the curses."

— KAMO CHOSO : is a VERY pouty baby. yuji was his brother, yes, but that didn't mean you spend the whole day with him when you met him for the first time. it almost felt as though you and yuji were a couple and choso was the third wheel. after the whole day passed by, you and.choso went back to your shared apartment. he immediately went into the bedroom, snuggling under the xxovers and crying into the pillows. when you went into the bedroom, you noticed what's happening and frowned, rubbing his back and asking him what happened.

"i-i felt so left out today, bub... i-i know yuji is my brother b-but i needed you a-attention..."

— HIGURUMA HIROMI : he sighs once he comes back home after a long day. he put his bag on the coffee table in the living room before going into the kitchen, finding you there with your 2 month old baby, putting her to sleep. higuruma pouted as he wanted you all to himself tonight, but your baby had different plans. it took you great effort to rock her to sleep, eventually putting her in a crib and walking back into the living room, hugging him tightly. he returned the long hug, sighing in content and rubbing your back.

"didn't know i'd be so envious of our own princess, baby..."⁹

–

hope yall like it!

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cannibalbuffe · 9 months ago

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hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])

Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.

I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.

Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.

(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)

Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!

Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons

(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)

‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.

› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.

› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.

› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.

› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.

› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.

› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.

› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.

› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)

› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.

› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.

› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.

› Anyways.

› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.

› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.

› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.

› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)

› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.

› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)

› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.

› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.

› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.

› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.

› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.

› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.

› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.

› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.

› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"

› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"

› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.

› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)

› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)

› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.

› Well, demon.

› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.

› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.

› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.

› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.

› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.

› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.

› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.

› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.

› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.

› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.

› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.

› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.

› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.

› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.

› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."

› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"

› "Definitely not!"

› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"

› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."

› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.

› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.

› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.

› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.

› Thankfully he understands things easily.

› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"

› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.

› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)

› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.

› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.

› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.

› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.

› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.

› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.

› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)

› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)

› And you care about him lot too!

› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)

#alastor x reader #platonic alastor x reader #queerplatonic alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #headcanons #buffet tag

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factual-fantasy · 10 days ago

Text

27 Asks! Thank you! :)) 🍰

Comments and interaction are the only way I'm afraid.. But your comment doesn't have to be some lengthy and clever compliment. Simple comments like "I love this! :D" "Looks great!" "ASJDKNF" and "Lovely drawing!" will work just fine. <:)

I promise I'm not gonna look down on those comments in anyway. If someone commented on 100 posts of mine with very simple and even copy and pasted responses, I wont be annoyed- if anything that will clearly show me that this person is trying to show their appreciation for my art will also respecting my boundaries. I'll appreciate it a lot is what I'm saying! XD

Even so, if its still too much pressure or you feel too awkward, I totally understand. You don't have to interact at all if you don't want to! I wont look down on you for that either. You can drop a simple like and leave it at that! :)

I am! :D Although I'm not fully in the loop- apparently there's been an update..? :0

@paper-starz

Ooo I love the drawing! :D In return I present to you!,

Whoppers! :DDDD

@muratandlina @misscherrypie @pink088

WAHGG THE BOOPS!!! THE BOOPS!!! XDDD

@ocinstituterep

When it comes to transformers? I would say its probably impossible to fully memorize their design line for line <:( at least it is for me!

All I can advise is to draw up a very extensive ref sheet for them, as I have done before. <:T

(Link in ask)

Ugh, this is getting exhausting.. thanks for telling me though.. <:)

@neo-metalscottic (Cake hound and Tuna post) (recent Gravity Falls art)

hello hello! :D I've been hanging in there, recent art thefts and tracings has been pretty disheartening.. but I've been doing my best to move past it <:)

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad to hear you liked my cake hound artwork! :)) As for names, I was gonna say that they don't have names and aren't canon yet.. but then two names came to mind <XDD

The name Chief seems pretty fitting for the old chocolate cake hound :0 And I imagined the name Bailey for a smaller vanilla cake hound that tuna might have in the future! :0 Think of a golden retriever :00

As for Gravity Falls, I will admit it was nice to draw Stanley again! And thank you kindly for all the compliments! :DD But man, does it just make me think of all the old embarrassing GF posts I made in the past.. 😅 I'm glad you liked it none the less! :))

And lastly, I'm not sure what kind of coffee Stan would like :0 but he strikes me as the type to say "I like my coffee BLACK like my SOUL" but then secretly fills it with 75% sugar and creamer XDD

@feline-controller

I've watched the original show in its entirety, they're absolutely hilarious and very witty XDD and their 1960s DeSoto adventurer was such a cool touch to the show! It's a shame the show didn't last longer.. 😔 Also Sam is my favorite of the two :))

I have! :0 They're outfits are always so wild <XD

@readeren

All of Gummigoo is squishy! XD

I have never heard of it <:0 sorry!

@minnesotamedic186

As I state in my pinned post,

Any and all dubbed videos of my artwork is theft as I will never give anyone permission to use my artwork in their videos 👍

@holly-opal

I did have a comic in mind where Wally wakes up from a nightmare and and its sends him into a panic attack. But he doesn't react the way you describe, quite the opposite actually :0

I pictured that he has a more silent panic. Where he shakes violently, his eyes are wide an he's sweating bullets. Unable to speak all the while. Even when he starts to cry he doesn't react to the tears, they just drip down his face silently.

He ended up thinking "Its okay, you're panicking. You're just panicking" but when that doesn't calm him down he thinks "Just call Barnaby. Talk to Barnaby and he'll calm you down, go call Barnaby."

He stumbles to the phone and while its ringing, he hears the floor creak behind him he whips around and knocks the phone off the table. The crash sends him over the edge and he drops the phone to run and hide. When Barnaby picked up his phone and no one replied.. he became really worried.

You cant accidentally butt dial someone on those old phones. Someone intentionally called him and then seemed to drop the phone.. knowing Wally has been acting off lately, he couldn't shake his worry and went out to check on Wally.

When he got to the door and knocked, he heard a vase shatter in Wally's house. Barnaby burst in and found Wally in a state.. The rest is what you can imagine. He comforts Wally and stays with him the whole night. They talk about his nightmare and the sleeping problems he's been battling.. things like that :0 Barnaby is goated :)

@octonauts16

The only brain rot word that doesn't drive me crazy and that I use unironically is "sus" XDD

@spottedsplash

Awe, thank you! That's very sweet <:)) I'm glad to hear you like what I've put up! :DD

IS THAT A MOOSHROOM COW WEARING IRON ARMOR??

@captain-skyler1987

I took me way too long to notice Goku on the left side XDD

Also yes I do! :D I'm getting better at recognizing a handful of my followers :}}

@beryl-shade

I watched Caseoh play it on YouTube :0 Although the parkour style game play was fun and refreshing!.. I wasn't particularly interested in the story as a whole 😅 I just saw it as yet another mascot horror.. <:/ FNAF holds my interest in that category <XD

@caronaro-flipaclip

His theatrical tone can be a liiitle annoying sometimes. And I cant not hear Finn the human when he talks <XD

But otherwise I like his character :) I feel kind'a bad for Gingerbrave sometimes- it kind'a feels like a lot is expected of him. Everyone is constantly asking him for help and he's always the one trying to defuse any given situation. Poor guy.. <:(

@fandomcenteralral

Reminds me of cult of the lamb! I love the critter 💞💞

@milmaxtor

ME WHEN PEOPLE SAY THEY LIKE WHEN I POST XDDDD

(Referencing this post)

Yes of course! :D People took the time out of their day to interact with me, the least I can do is respond to their questions properly! <:))

Also thank you! :DDDD

(Link in ask)

The song wasn't really my taste, but the artwork was great! :))

Welcome home got an update? :0 I had no idea! I guess that would explain the sudden influx of Poppy artwork.. 🤔

@shamelessboiledwater

XD I hope you remember sometime soon!

@minnesotamedic186

That I am! :) I've even drawn the gang before! Buster Moon is my favorite character :)

#my response #welcome home #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #the amazing digital circus

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webslingingslasher · 5 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/746523472745955328/does-cherrys-peter-still-have-ethan-if-so-how-is

I LOVE SHY CHERRY!! i need more shy cherry and how peter reassures her 😭😭 so cute

*cleaning out my drafts*

'go say hi, they won't bite.' you circle around peter's side to hide behind his shoulder as he tries to push you into the kitchen. 'they're going to sniff me out like a shark with blood in the water.'

'cherry.'

'i'm serious, peter. frat boys are not nice, i batted a thousand with you. they're gonna make fun of me.' peter frowns, 'they're nice. i promise no one's going to make fun of you. if they try, i'll kill 'em. how about that?'

you whine out his name, you've avoided them fairly well up until this point. peter said that if you were going to be spending all your free time here, which you have been, you needed to introduce yourself.

'hey, no one knows what's going on between us, okay? all they know is that you're my girl.' your eyes flit to the kitchen, you hear laughter and ignore the pang of anxiety it creates. 'does that mean they think we're having sex?'

peter's searching your face, he's not sure how you want him to answer it. he assumes truthfully. 'probably.' you smile wide and perk up. 'cool.'

chatter overflows from the open room, you're about to break up the conversation and have all the attention on you. no, you can't do it. it doesn't matter if they think you're a virgin or not. they're going to scrutinize you.

'i can't.' peter rolls his eyes, 'yes you can.' you dig your shoes into three floor, he'll be able to move you but it'll need some force. 'i can't. you know i'm shy.'

a token of sympathy is given. 'remember the first night you met me?' of course you do, it ended with you in a mere panic attack at the sight of his naked body. 'that wasn't the act of a shy person, that was someone who was brave.'

'i balked. and almost cried.' peter traces your bottom lip and tilts his head, you can feel his heart eyes on you. 'but then you doubled down and asked if i would be willing to take your virginity.'

you did do that, didn't you? 'i had nothing else to lose, the second you gave me my shirt it was social suicide.' peter ignores how you minimize yourself, he doesn’t think you’re shy and it makes you feel a little more secure. ‘you could’ve ran, but you didn’t. if you could do that, i promise you can do this.’

you’re doing it for him and his belief in you.

'alright, fine.' you stare at the entryway and nod once before looking at peter. 'kiss of confidence?' you’re granted with one before taking a bold step forward and immediately stopping.

'you need to go first. make sure they don't stare at me.' you're hiding behind him again, peter reaches his hand back to hold yours and you feel a little more comfortable.

'ready?' you're already walking with him and holding your breath, you're able to squeak out a no before you're in the thick of it. 'what's up, parker?'

peter smiles and makes small talk, you peek an eye open and look around him. only one person is looking at you, you shrink back down behind peter.

'i'm ethan, your boy's best friend.' you swallow hard, he crossed all the way over the kitchen to stick his hand out. peter squeezed the one in his hold, he's telling you it's okay.

you slide away to gently shake his hand and softly greet him. the second you let out a tense breath the whole crowd says hi to you. you try to hide behind peter, he doesn't let you.

you grit your teeth into a friendly grin and feel everyone staring at you. 'hi. nice to meet you.' it's polite and you pray it's enough, you nudge peter's arm to tuck yourself underneath it.

you need his touch or you'll start crying.

‘peter,’ you speak his name under your breath, you don’t want anyone else to be aware of your anxiety and how childish it may seem. ‘please.’

peter’s best friend tucks a straw between his left molars and gnaws while directing more attention your way. ‘so, cherry, what’s the story behind the name?’ your eyes are wide, your cheeks feel hot as you point a finger at peter and sputter out 'he started it.'

his lips twitch with a smile, he's got a certain look in his eye that only you could understand. you're both replaying the memory, he could share it but he likes that it's between you and him only.

'it's an inside joke.' you nod your head in agreement and try to get under his arm again, you feel your nerves turn into frustration and demand his attention while someone is talking about next sunday's dinner.

harshly tugging at his shirt, you speak stern and slowly like you would to a child. 'peter. i am not playing around, let me in.' you were louder than you thought you'd be, ethan being one of the three brothers who 'oo' at him.

peter's amused, lifting his arm up so you can wrap your arms around his waist and hide your face in his side. 'don't let her fool you, this is all an act. did you see how she just talked to me?'

your hold tightens. he knows how anxious you are over being shy and he's brushing the attention away from you. you'll give him a big kiss the second you're alone.

'it's about time someone put you in your place, parker.'

'can she do the same thing but with tarrent and banana bread?'

another guy does a series of woofs and barks, you hide a snort in peter's shirt. 'wow. thanks guys, nothing like some positive reinforcement for being verbally assaulted.'

you pull away from him with a gasp, you forget you're in a room of frat boys for a second. 'i was not verbally assaulting you! i was being stern because you were teasing me.'

'yeah, parker, you’re a dick.'

'oh god, parker you're such a tease.'

'stern him some more, cherry!'

peter gladly accepts any shot his friends throw at him because you're standing tall with a proud grin. 'see? they already like you more than me.'

ethan claps his hands, 'yes! now bully him some more.'

#the virgin files #frat!peterxvirgin!reader

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sp1rit-realm · 6 months ago

Text

༻¨*:· 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus is used to the same day, and then you come into his life.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 please give me some grace. i havent written a full on fic in... a hot second 𖦹 record shop owner!remus x fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 sirius uses he/they prns 𖦹 also. reader moves to england so she doesnt have british accent. yeah. 𖦹 lily evans being the best 𖦹 FLUFF (everyone cheered!) 𖦹 [brief] ANGST (everyone cried!) 𖦹 not proofread

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.7k

Routine—a very familiar word to Remus. His days were the same. Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, then sleep. He ate the same thing for breakfast and the same thing for lunch. Dinner was the only thing he frequently changed—maybe one day, he would have pasta, and the next, he would have chicken. He hung out with friends on Saturday, and they went to the same pub every time. The topics were usually the same. Sirius met someone new, someone they claimed to be "The One," only for that person to leave their life. James usually talked about training, Lily, and updates on her pregnancy. Since school ended, things had become... predictable.

You walked into the rickety old record shop, intent on finding your favorite album. It broke on the move to the UK, and you needed it desperately.

Upon hearing the bell ring, Remus looked up. It was part of his routine—to see who had entered his shop—and there you stood, tote bag in hand with messy, windblown hair.

After searching through the Rock section for ages, you practically squeal when you see the album.

Remus looks up as you walk to the counter, "Hi."

"Hi," You smile. Your accent throws Remus off, and he smiles.

He looks at the record, then puts it down, "We have this in a white vinyl," He says, "I— I didn't mark it as colored, so you probably didn't see it. I can go grab it for you?"

You eagerly nod, "That would be fantastic!"

He stands, and you realize how tall he is—it's like he's towering over you.

A moment later, he returns with the other record, "They're hard to come by," He scrawls something on the record sheet, then rings up the album.

You thank him and pay, leaving him to wonder if you'll be back.

The next time you see him, he's with a pretty girl. She's got bleached blonde hair and a cute button nose. She's beautiful. Of course, you recognize the tall man—how could you not? He and the girl make their way to the counter; they both order.

"For Remus," A woman calls out.

Remus—that's his name.

Remus steals glances at you the entire time he's at the coffee shop.

"Who's that?" Marlene asks with a coy smirk.

"I don't know. Came into the shop a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, so you have a little crush." Marlene is full-on smirking now.

Remus goes red, "What? No." He shakes his head, "No," He repeats, trying to reassure himself that he doesn't have feelings for you.

"Sure," Marlene mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

Remus rolls his eyes.

About a month passes by until you see one another again. You walk into the shop. Remus looks up when the bell rings, and he smiles.

Sirius is there today, and they go up to you.

"What're you looking for?"

You answer, and he leads you to the section as if you don't know the alphabet. He doesn't mean it that way, you know that.

Still, you tease them about it, and their face goes stark red, "Sorry. I just— Sometimes record shops can be confusing in how they order things. Like, when it goes from 'C' to 'D,' does the 'D' section continue on the other side, or does it continue straight across? You know?"

"I'm kidding around," You smile, "I've been here before. Granted, it was just once, but I know how it works. Thank you, though."

"But of course," Sirius curtsies, "Anything for you..."

"Y/n," You introduce yourself.

"I'm Sirius. Like the star," He clarifies, "Like, that's my name. S-i-r-i-u-s," They spell out.

You giggle, "Nice to meet you, Sirius."

"Nice to meet you. I love your silly accent, by the way."

"You're the one with the silly accent," You shoot back.

"Not when my accent is outnumbering yours."

You tilt your head and hum, "Strangely, I understand what you mean."

"It'd be concerning if you didn't."

"Do you frequent this shop a lot?" You ask, flipping through albums.

"My friend is the owner." Sirius shrugs.

You perk up, "Remus?"

Sirius quirks their brow, "You know him?"

You get hot, "No."

He narrows his eyes, "So, how do you know his name is Remus?"

"Well," You whisper, "I came in a while ago. He was really nice when I checked out. Then, a couple of weeks later, I saw him at a coffee shop, and they said his name when his drink was ready."

"You're a creep," Sirius raises his eyebrows.

"No!" You argue.

"Such a creep." Sirius begins walking away; you rush to follow him, "I'm telling him." He says.

You begin to panic, "Wait! No!"

Sirius keeps walking to the front.

"Sirius," You whine, "Stop!"

"Remus!"

You silently will him to stop.

"Remus!" Sirius calls again.

"Lovely lady over here has something to tell you," He smirks.

If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under.

"I just– um–" You sputter out, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the record last time I was here."

You swear he blushes, but you don't want to look to find out.

"It was no problem," He smiles, "Maybe I could give you a call if any of their other records come in?"

Sirius smirks from the sidelines.

"Um..." It takes a moment to process, "Sure." You nod assertively, "Yeah. I would love that!"

Remus's world has turned upside down—you keep him on his toes. He stays up because, maybe, you'll call tonight. You eat lunch with him sometimes, and gone are the days when he eats the same thing every day. Gone are the days when he closes up shop at 7:00. Gone is routine.

"Do you want to have dinner tonight?" You ask, wrapping the cord around your finger.

"I'm actually going out," Remus responds. You frown, and your imagination runs wild. What if he's going on a date?

"Hello?" He asks, and you realize you've blocked him out.

"Huh? Sorry?"

"I asked if you wanted to come with me. You can meet my mates. If you want." He spits out. Saying it once is nerve-wracking enough; saying it twice is terrifying because what if you say no? What if you don't want to meet his friends? What if–

"I'd love to!" You cut his frantic thoughts off, and his heart swells.

"Really?" He asks.

"Of course!"

So, now, you're standing in front of a random pub, wondering if he's pranking you. It's been about five minutes, and you know that's not a long time to wait, but your anxiety is getting the better of you.

Then, five turns to fifteen, and you're wondering how pathetic you look.

"Y/n?"

Your head whips to the door, "Sirius? When'd you get here?"

Sirius checks their wrist like they're checking a watch, "'Bout half an hour ago. Did the dimwit not tell you to meet us inside?"

You shake your head, "He said to meet him at the bar. So, I guess he didn't quite specify." You shrug.

"Well, come on in," He holds the door open for you.

You thank Sirius and look around for Remus. He's not hard to spot, and Sirius jogs over to their booth before whispering something into Remus's ear. He looks up and smiles brightly.

"You're here!" He exclaims.

"You're here." You say, tone almost scolding him.

Sirius whispers something else to him.

His face drops, "Oh... sorry for not telling you to meet us inside." His mouth quirks to one side in a guilty expression.

You smile, "It's okay. I forgive you." You sit next to him.

"Oh, thank god," He rests his hand on his chest, "A pretty girl being mad at me would've been my death."

Heat blossoms in your chest.

"So..." James begins, "Now that flirt time is over, can I say hello?"

"Ha!" Sirius barks out, "Flirt time!"

Remus gets warm, "This is James, another one of my school friends. James, this is y/n."

All James says is: "You're his lock screen, y'know?"

Remus kicks him under the table.

"I mean–" James smiles, "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I have never seen your face before."

"Smooth," Sirius whispers to James.

You smile at Remus's red face.

"Ignore him, please?" He begs.

You nod.

Sirius and James tell you embarrassing stories about Remus for the rest of the night, and the boy starts to regret introducing you to them as a pair.

At the end of the night, he drops you off.

Rubbing his face, he sighs, "I hope they weren't too much."

You smile brightly, and Remus feels like he could fall to his knees, "I had an amazing time. They're really fun, Remus."

You leave him with a kiss on the cheek—he puts his hand up to the spot and smiles the whole way home.

"I've missed you," You say into the phone.

"I've missed you, too. You should just let me come over." Remus begs for the umpteenth time.

"I don't want to get you sick," You frown, "That would be horrible."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world. We could quarantine together," He smirks, "I could make you soup, and we could cuddle together on the couch and watch some ridiculous rom-com."

"Take a girl out on a date first!" You joke.

"I would if you weren't so busy being poorly." Remus groans.

"So you're asking me out on a date?" You smile and do a little happy dance.

"I guess I am."

He's smug, and you can tell.

A week later, you sit in a fancy restaurant—the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu. Remus is fidgety. He's wearing his nicest button-down, and you think it looks funny on him. He gets red at your comment and looks down at the table with pursed lips.

"I just meant that I'm so used to you wearing those comfy sweaters. You look good, though." You earnestly smile at him.

"You look nice tonight, yourself."

"Well, I'm going on a date with this charming boy. I wanted to impress him."

"I hear he's very impressed."

You insist on paying, but he won't let you. As soon as you pull out your wallet, he snatches it from you.

He kisses you before leaving you at your car, and you don't want it to stop. It's soft and tender, and it's everything you hoped it would be.

One date turns to two, which turns to five, and now you're anxiously pacing in your flat. You're dating Remus; you have been for a few months, and you're not sure when it's an appropriate time to ask the question, but you'll ask tonight. Except Remus doesn't come. He doesn't call, either.

After an hour of worrying, you call Sirius.

"Hello?" He answers—it's obvious he's high.

"Hi. Do you know where Remus is?"

Sirius laughs, "Right here."

"Can I talk to him?"

You hear rustling as Sirius passes the phone.

"Hello?"

"Remus," You whine.

"Hey there. What's going on?" He's calm—too calm. He's also high.

"You were supposed to come over tonight." You frown—it's a fruitless effort. He can't see you.

"Shit. 'M sorry, baby," He frowns, too. You can hear it.

"'S okay. I was just really looking forward to seeing you." You dramatically slide down your wall into a crouching position.

"I'd come over, but, y'know," He wanders off.

"You're so high you can barely walk?" You offer.

He takes it, "Yes."

"It's alright," You sigh, and Remus feels terrible, "Promise you'll come over tomorrow?"

"Promise," He answers.

But then tomorrow comes, and Remus has yet to show up. So you dial his number, but he doesn't pick up. An hour passes until your phone rings, and you're anxious and giddy and hopeful as you pick it up.

"Sorry." Remus's voice is gruff, and you can hear the guilt in his tone.

"It's okay. You can still come over. It's not too late."

"No," He sighs, "I'm sorry, but I can't... I have to break up with you."

Your face drops with your stomach, "What?"

"I can't be with you. I'm— I'm sorry."

"No!" Tears blur your vision, "You can't just tell me we're over. Explain yourself!"

"I just can't do it anymore. It's too hard."

You choke out a sob, "What's too hard? Loving me?"

"No," He sighs, and he sounds tired, oh so tired, "I'm incapable of giving you what you need."

"And who gets to say what I need?"

"Y/n, for your sake, I'm ending this. I can't provide for you in the way you'll need me to."

"Remus," You sigh, "I don't understand. What do you mean you 'can't provide' for me?"

"I can't emotionally be there for you. I'm sorry."

And as you hear the dial tone, you let your sobs out.

You feel empty. Your only friends are Remus's; now you feel like you can't talk to them.

"You're daft," Sirius scolds, "Y/n was lovely, and you break up with her over the phone?!"

Remus hangs his head in shame, "Yeah, I did."

Then Remus looked up and was met with one of his worst fears. He'd been on Lily Evans's bad side more than once, but never like this. He'd only seen this stare a handful of times, but not once was it directed at him, until now.

She marches over to the booth, never breaking her stare, leans close to Remus, and slaps him, "You twat!"

He doesn't know what to say, so he holds his cheek and waits for her to continue.

"You hurt an exceptionally lovely girl for what?! Because you're insecure? Because it was too scary to feel loved so deeply? That girl gave you her all, Remus! And this is how you treat her?" Lily's face is red at the end of her rant, and Sirius tries to hold in their snickers.

Lily narrows her eyes at Remus, "I can read you like a book, Remus Lupin. I know what's going on in that magnificently stupid head of yours! Go apologize to her!"

"I can't," He murmurs, "I've already ruined it."

She rolls her eyes, "You won't know unless you try, and not knowing will eat at you, and you will die confused, sad, and alone."

"She has a point," Sirius agrees, "I mean... we all know you'll just mope around until we push you to talk to her, but by then, it'll be too late. She will have found somebody, and they'll get married, and you'll just be that bloke from when she moved here. Go talk to her."

"What do I say?"

It's almost midnight when a knocking at your door wakes you. Groaning, you get out of bed and make your way to the door.

You undo the bottom lock, keeping the chain in place.

"Yes?" You peek through the crack, surprised to see Remus holding flowers on the other side.

"I'm sorry."

He thinks he's surely blown it when you close the door, but he hears the chain clanking as you fully unlock it.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus wants to cry at the sight of you. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, with red tracing your waterline.

"I—" He has a whole script planned out but seems to have forgotten every word, "I have flowers," He settles on.

"For me?"

He nods.

"What are you doing here?" You ask again, taking the flowers.

"I'm here to apologize. I was a dick the other day."

You tilt your head, "You mean the other day when you broke up with me?"

Remus almost doesn't catch the sarcasm, "I'm sorry. I get so caught up in my head—"

You turn from him, "Come in," You mutter as you walk into your kitchen.

He closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off, "I get scared when I let somebody get too close."

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

He watches as you move around your kitchen, grabbing cups and boiling the water. He's missed you.

"Why let me get close at all, then?"

"Because I like you."

You turn and look at him, "Do you, now?"

Remus sighs, "Look, I fucked up, I know that. Do you think we can try again?"

You walk over to him, "You said you can't give me what I need. What does that mean, Remus?"

"I'm unfit to be with somebody."

"I don't think so. You were wonderful the past three months. So wonderful that I think, if you work on yourself, we can give this another go."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, leaning in.

"I look terrible," You laugh.

"No," He rests his forehead against yours, "You're always beautiful."

"Kiss me."

hi guys sorry if this is bad😇😇

my lovely mutuals <33 @sepptember @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @maroon-winestain @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @storyofaromance @queerpumpkinnn @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @zvdvdlvr @reysdriver @g1rld1ary @starsval @vampieteeth @maddipoof @bruisedboys @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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artistsfuneral · 1 year ago

Text

Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #witcher #mini fic

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lolahasmoxie · 11 months ago

Text

NYE (J.T.)

Sooooooo...

@powderblueblood and her 200 Cigarettes prompts.......yes.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x reader

WARNINGS: fluff, emotions

PROMPTS:

"You need to find someone that likes you the way you are."

"And who would possibly like me the way I am?"

"Those clothes and my clothes would look good on my floor."

"He said what?"

Jamie followed you to the bar at Ola's. The restaurant closed early and is now hosting the Richmond New Year's Eve party. You poured yourself a shot of whiskey and downed it without flinching as you told Jamie about your date.

"He said, and I quote, "You're nice and all, but I could do better," and then I left the party."

"What a complete fucking prick!" Jamie said; you simply shrugged your shoulders as you grabbed a flute of champagne from a server.

"At least he was upfront. Saved us both the trouble." Jamie can see the mask you're putting up; it's not the first time he's seen you do it. Never let them see you hurt your own personal motto. He wants to kill this guy.

"C'mon, forget that dumbass. Come join us at the table; the boys will be happy to see you." You glance over at the tables and see the boys with their respective dates. The passing of intimate kisses and touches makes your heart yearn for something that, at this point, you're not sure you'll ever have. It's too much.

"I'm just gonna be a wet blanket," you say with a shrug, and Jamie can see your eyes become glossy. "I'll text you when I'm home. Happy New Year, Jamie." You give his hand a quick squeeze, and then, before he can say anything, you're gone.

"Where's she going?" Keeley asks, and Jamie turns, his mind still trying to process what happened. The fact that one moment you were standing in front of him looking so fucking pretty, and then you were gone.

"She just left; her date at that party went really bad."

"Shame," Keeley hums as she sips her champagne. "I have a question, though."

"What?"

"Why the fuck are you still here instead of chasing after her?"

"Why would I do that?" Jamie straightens up, putting up his own mask as he tries to pretend that he hasn't been pining for you since returning to Richmond.

"Because even a blind man can see you're desperately in love with her, the poor girl," Roy interjects as he stands beside Keeley. "Question is, when the fuck are you gonna grow a pair and fucking do something about it?"

Jamie stares at them both for a second before he turns and runs full speed out of the restaurant.

You have yet to get far. Your flat is pretty close to the restaurant, so instead of trying to flag down a cab, you opted to enjoy the brisk winter air. The streets were pretty busy, and you tried to keep the tears at bay as you passed happy couples and groups of friends on their way to ring in the new year.

The sound of shoes running on the pavement sent your heart racing, and you reached for your keys as they got closer. You hear someone call your name and turn around, shocked to see Jamie running to catch up with you.

"Jamie, why are you following me?"

"I had to tell you something, and it couldn't wait." His gray eyes look into yours, but he remains silent. You sigh before gently interrupting him.

"Look, I just wanna go home. I'll see you on Tuesday." You turn around, and Jamie is again watching you walk away from him. He can hear Keeley and Roy yelling at him in his head, and he takes a deep breath. He's not going to let this moment pass him by. He can't stomach starting a new year without telling you how he feels.

You hear the footsteps again, and you say a "hey" when you feel Jamie pull you by the arm to look at him.

"You're not the problem."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Not just tonight, but every bloke who's made you feel like you aren't the most amazing person on the planet, they're the problem. Not you." Your jaw has dropped, and you know you're looking at him like a deer in the headlights.

You can't help but scoff. "If I'm not the problem, pray tell me, how do I fix it? Tell me the solution, Jamie."

"You need to find someone that likes you the way you are." You scoff again. You hold Jamie's gaze as you step closer to him. You hope he can't see how ready you are to crying.

"And who would possibly like me the way I am?" Your voice wavers, and Jamie feels his heartbreak at your admission. Your gaze drops to your shoes, and Jamie takes a tentative step forward.

His hand gently lifts your chin, and you wait for him to speak. It isn't until he raises his eyebrows, your mouth drawing into an O, that what he's saying dawns on you.

"You?"

"Yeah, silly girl." He says with a light chuckle. His thumb wipes away an errant tear before he cups your face with his large, warm hands. You reach out for the lapels on his jacket, holding tight as

"But, you're Jamie Tartt. I'm just..."

"Fantastic and kind. You were nice to me even when I was being the worst asshole on the planet. Not to mention that you're absolutely stunning. Pretttiest girl I've ever seen."

"Jamie,"

"I'll be good to you. And even though I'm probably gonna fuck up now and again, I promise it won't ever be intentional. There's more, but I just really wanna fucking kiss you right now."

You blush at Jamie’s words and when you see his gaze dip to your lips. You had wondered many times what kissing Jamie would feel like. You had thought about it at work while chatting with Keeley and Rebecca and kissing unremarkable men. Nothing you had conjured in your head could hold a candle to the real thing.

His full lips are pillowy and soft, and he holds you firm and secure. He moans when your tongue traces the seam of his lips, your hands pulling him in closer to you as onlookers pass by with knowing giggles.

When Jamie finally pulls back for air, his breath catches at the sight of you. Swollen lips and the far-off dreamy look of someone who's been snogged properly, he doesn't know who to thank for the vision in front of him.

"Back to Ola's?"

"My place?"

You both stop after interrupting each other. You both chuckle, but it takes Jamie a second before he realizes what you asked him.

"Your place, you sure?" You give him a cat-like grin, your hands still on his lapels.

"I don't really wanna go back with the boys, do you?" Jamie shakes his head, to hell with the boys. Fuck em. His mouth makes an O shape when you pull him closer by the lapels and lean to whisper in his ear.

"Good, because those clothes and my clothes would look good on my floor." You kiss his nose softly, and Jamie rewards you with a beaming smile. "Then tomorrow, you can buy us breakfast."

Jamie could cry when he hears you say tomorrow. "I'll buy you breakfast every day for the rest of our lives if you'll let me. Now," He takes your hands in his. "I'm gonna do something that I've been wanting to do for too damn long."

"And what's that?" The look Jamie gives you is nothing less than sin incarnate. A hungry predator eyeing up its prey. There's no hiding your gasp when he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"I really hope you don't have plans tomorrow, love, because I plan on making sure your neighbors know exactly who I am. Now, why don't you lead the way?"

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

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WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

#Megaminds Secret Files #Megaminds WIPS #wips #work in progress #wip #wip tuesday #work in progress tuesday #and this is on top of a call center job that steals every ounce of joy i have #besides this app and you wonderful really fucking beautiful people #seriously #yall pics have me gagged #anywhooo #megamind be writing

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mybutcheredtongue · 3 months ago

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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (see full series list here)

1994

I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.

That's what Harry had written in his note to you and Sirius — and also in notes to Ron and Hermione too.

The pair of you had been livid, of course — "this is what happens when he's left alone with those people!" — and three days later, you stand on the doorstep to Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging with a group of other Order members.

"Alohomora," you say, pushing the door open. You make your way into the hallway, all the lights turned off.

Tonks lets out a whistle at a stack of antique decorative plates on a table beside her. "Wow, look at these plates, they're proper fancy! Just look — "

She immediately drops it with a crash.

"Oops," she says, repairing it with a wave of her wand.

You make your way up the stairs, unlocking the door with your wand while the others wait at the bottom of the stairs. Harry slowly emerges from the room, poking his head out the door, wand clutched tightly in his hand.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody growls.

Harry doesn't lower his wand. "Professor Moody?"

"I don't know so much about 'Professor'. Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry still doesn't move, clearly wary of your party.

"It's alright, Harry," you say gently. "We've come to take you away."

"P-professor?" he says disbelievingly. "Is that you?"

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" Tonks says. "Lumos."

The tip of Tonks's wand flares, illuminating the hall with light. You beam at the sight of your godson, already looking older than when you last seen him.

You stride forward and wrap him in a tight hug, beaming. "Good to see you, Harry."

"Yeah, you too..."

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," Tonks says excitedly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," Kingsley Shacklebolt says from the back. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," Dedalus Diggle wheezes. "Lily's eyes."

Moody squints suspiciously at Harry, his magical eye pointed towards him searchingly. "Are you quite sure it's him? It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater personating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" Remus asks.

"A stag," Harry answers nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye."

Harry descends the stairs, still looking a bit confused, stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he goes.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" Moody roars immediately. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost a buttocks, you know!"

"Who do you know that's lost a buttock?" Tonks asks curiously

"Never you mind, just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" he barks, hobbling off to the kitchen. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore..."

Wow, how many times did you hear that during your training?

"And I saw that," Moody adds irritably as you roll your eyes at the ceiling.

Remus holds out his hand and shakes Harry's. "How are you?"

"Fine..." Harry replies, looking as though he's still in shock at what's going on.

"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." he mumbles.

"Lucky, ha!" Tonks exclaims, grinning. "It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now...or so they think."

She winks at you and you smile back, remembering the side-splitting laughter that had infected you as the two of you cooked up that idea a few nights previous.

"We are leaving, aren't we?" Harry asks. "Soon?"

"Almost at once," Remus says. "We're just waiting for the all-clear."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asks hopefully.

You shake your head. "No, not the Burrow." You follow Moody into the kitchen, the group of Order members walking in after you. "Too risky. We're set up headquarters somewhere else, somewhere undetectable."

Moody sits at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, taking in the many electrical appliances in the Dursleys' kitchen.

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Remus tells, pointing toward him.

"Yeah, I know."

"And this is Nymphadora — "

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks says with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

" — Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Remus finishes, glancing at Tonks.

She folds her arms. "So would you if your fool of a mother called you Nymphadora."

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt," Remus continues. "Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle — "

"We've met before," squeaks Diggle, dropping his top hat excitedly.

" — Emmeline Vance — Sturgis Podmore — and Hestia Jones."

Harry nods awkwardly at each of them in turn.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come get you," Remus says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," Moody says darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," Remus explains, glancing out the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" Tonks says as she looks around the kitchen with heat interest. "My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?"

"Uh — yeah," says Harry, turning to you. "What's going on, I haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol — ?"

Several of the witch and wizards make odd hissing noises and Moody growls, "Shut up!"

"What?"

"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," Moody explains, looking around him warily with his magical eye.

"We can talk about it once we're back at headquarters," you say.

"How're we getting there?"

"Brooms," Remus replies. "Only way. You're too young to apparate, they'll be watching the Floor Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey."

"She says you're a good flier," Kingsley says, gesturing to you.

"He's excellent," you reply proudly, smiling at Harry.

Remus glances down at his watch. "You better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," Tonks says brightly, following Harry upstairs to his bedroom.

Remus pulls an envelope and piece of parchment out of his pocket, bending over the kitchen table to start scribbling something down. You walk around the room, looking at different photos of the Dursleys.

Baby Dudley, with a proud Petunia and Vernon standing over him; Petunia and Vernon on their wedding day; several more photos of Dudley growing up — there's an obvious absence of Harry. If a stranger were to walk into this room without knowing anything about the Dursleys beforehand, they would never know Harry even exists.

"What a strange device!" Podmore exclaims, curiously opening and closing the kitchen microwave while Kingsley stands behind him. He waves you over. "What does it do?"

Because of your Muggle father, you are often questioned on Muggle items and customs — though usually by Arthur Weasley.

"It cooks food," you reply. "It's called a microwave."

"A microwave..." Kingsley repeats thoughtfully, opening the door and peering inside with immense interest.

Nearby, Hestia laughs at a potato peeler that she came across in one of the drawers. You give her a look, confused as to what could possibly be so humourous about a potato peeler, but she just continues to snicker and giggle as she turns it over in her hands.

"Excellent," Remus says when Harry and Tonks return, Harry's trunk bobbing along in the air behind them. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a note telling your aunt and uncle not to worry — "

"They won't," says Harry.

"That you're safe — "

"That'll just depress them."

" — and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?"

Remus smiles but doesn't answer.

"Come here, boy," Moody says gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

Harry's brows knit nervously. "You need to what?"

"Disillusionment Charm," Moody replies, raising his wand. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go — "

He raps Harry hard on the top of his head and Harry's body takes on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him, like some sort of human chameleon.

"Nice one, Mad-Eye," Tonks says appreciatively, and Harry looks down in surprise, spinning in place as he surveys his new look.

"Come on," Moody says, moving towards the back door and unlocking it with his wand.

You all step out onto the Dursleys' impeccably well-kept lawn. It looks practically untouched — a contender for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition indeed.

"Clear night," Moody grumbles, peering up into the dark sky above. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barks at Harry, pointing his finger at him, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed — "

"Is that likely?" Harry asks apprehensively, but Moody ignores him. When he turns his worried eyes to yours you shake your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Moody's grimness.

" — the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously," says Tonks as she straps Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," Moody growls. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt — "

"No one's going to die," you say calmly, receiving a doubtful grumble from Moody in the process.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Remus says sharply, pointing into the sky at the shower of bright red sparks flaring high above you.

You swing your leg over your broom — your dusty old Cleansweep Seven that you've had since you were fifteen and that has seen more of the inside of your garden shed than the open air — and wrap your hands around the flaking handle. You're a pretty average flier — nothing compared to James, of course...but who could ever compare to him?

"Second signal, let's go!" Remus says loudly, as this time green sparks explode into the air far above you.

You kick off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushes into you as you rise higher into the air, the houses and buildings of Little Whinging becoming smaller and smaller as your group ascends. Looking up, the sky is vast and clear, revealing the billions of gleaming stars twinkling above. You can't help the small rush of giddiness that sparks in you at the sight of it.

"Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!" Moody shouts over the wind, and your circling group follows Tonks as she swerves, Harry close behind. "We need more height...give it another quarter of a mile!"

"Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!" calls Moody.

"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks shouts angrily. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"

You're glad to hear this, your fingers turning numb around the handle of your broom in the chill.

You alter your course every now and then according to Moody's instructions, you and the rest of the guard circling Harry and Tonks as you move.

"We ought to double back for a bit, to make sure we're not being followed!" Moody shouts.

"Don't be mad! We're nearly there now!" You yell, recognising the streets hurtling past below. "If we keep going off course, we won't have to worry about being followed because Harry'll have died from hypothermia by then!"

"Time to start the descent!" Remus orders. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

You dive, flying lower and lower until you touch down on a quiet street with several less-than-welcoming houses lining it.

"Where are we?" Harry asks.

"In a minute," Remus says quietly, looking at Moody expectantly as he rummages around in his cloak.

"Got it," he mutters, pulling out Dumbledore's trusty Deluminator and clicking it. The nearest streetlamp goes out with a pop. Moody clicks the Deluminator again and one by one each lamp on the street distinguishes, leaving the faint glow of lit rooms behind curtains the only source of light on the street.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody explains to Harry, pocketing the Deluminator once more. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out the window, see? Now, come on, quick."

Together, your group makes it towards houses Number 11 and Number 13. Even though he's been Disillusioned, you can still see Harry's form shivering with the cold, and you make a slow sweeping motion down the length of his body with your wand, muttering a quiet warming spell under your breath. You hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Remus tuts quietly under his breath. "No spell for the rest of us, then?"

You smile. "You're not my godson."

Even in the dark, you can see him rolling his eyes at you.

"Here," Moody says, thrusting a piece of paper towards Harry. "Read quickly and memorise."

"What's the Order of the — ?"

"Not here, boy!" Moody snarls immediately, his eyes wide. "Wait 'til we're inside!"

He snatches the parchment out of Harry's hand and lights it on fire, dropping it to the ground, the edges curling in the flame.

"But where's — ?"

"Think about what you've just memorised," Remus says quietly.

After a moment, the run-down door of the Black house emerges in the space between 11 and 13, followed soon by grimy walls and windows.

"Come on, hurry," Moody growls, prodding Harry in the back.

You tap the door with your wand. Loud metallic clicks and squeaks sound behind the door before it creaks open, revealing the darkened hallway beyond. "Get in quick, Harry. But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

You shuffle into the hallway behind Harry, casting a wary eye to the curtained portrait at the end of the hall, waiting for Moody to finish returning the light to the streetlamps before closing the door behind him.

"Here." Moody raps Harry hard over the head with his wand, lifting the Disillusionment Charm and returning Harry to his usual, visible state. Probably could've been a bit more gentle with it, but whatever.

"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light around here," Moody says quietly. With a soft hissing noise, the old-fashioned gas lamps flicker to life, illuminating the depressingly drab hallway you're standing in.

Hurried footsteps alert you to Mrs Weasley's entrance, emerging from the basement door with a smile on her face as she makes her way toward you.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispers, pulling Harry into a tight hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."

She turns to you and the rest of the Order members and whispers urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started..."

Everyone starts to make their way through the door, and Harry moves to follow Remus when you gently hold him back, a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Harry. Order members only. We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Ron and Hermione are waiting upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over, and then we'll all have dinner," Mrs Weasley whispers to him. "And keep your voice down in the hall."

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you — ?"

"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting — I'll just show you where you're sleeping."

You give Harry and Mrs Weasley a wave before heading down into the basement, opening the door as quietly as possible and slipping into your usual spot beside Sirius at the table while Dumbledore speaks to Remus and Moody about Harry. You listen as Dumbledore outlines plans and guard duty: looks like you're on tomorrow night. Brilliant.

Snape sits across from you, and when your eyes meet he gives you a near-imperceptible head shake. Nothing on Wormtail yet. Then his eyes shift to hatred as he wrinkles his nose at Sirius beside you, and you notice that your husband is currently pretending to scratch his nose with just his middle finger extended, directly in Snape's eyeline.

Of course.

When the meeting is finally over, most of the Order members file out of the kitchen and upstairs, speaking in hushed voices as they enter the hall. You pull one of the scrolls of parchment from the middle of the table into your hands, skimming your eyes over a plan of the Department of Mysteries, exits and entrances marked in red.

Just then, you hear a clatter and a great, thankfully muffled, screeching starts from the hall. You sigh, rubbing your temples, and move to stand up and deal with your darling mother-in-law when Sirius gently pushes you back into your chair, standing up.

"I'll handle it."

Bill and Mr Weasley sit close by, heads pressed together as they mull over parchment and documents. After a minute or two, the screaming stops and Sirius reopens the door, Harry following close behind with Remus and the rest of the kids.

Mrs Weasley clears her throat and Mr Weasley jumps to his feet, hurrying over to give Harry's hand a shake. "Harry! Good to see you!"

Bill starts to try and roll up the scrolls and you move to help him, handing him the plan of the Department of Mysteries.

"Journey all right, Harry?" he asks. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, did he?"

"He tried," Tonks says, striding over to help you and immediately knocking over a candle, sending the wax spilling onto the parchment. "Oh, no — sorry — "

"Here," you say, waving your wand and muttering a spell to repair the parchment. In the light your wand casts, you spy Harry trying to catch a glimpse of what's written on the parchment.

Mrs Weasley sees him too, and clicks her tongue disapprovingly, snatching up the scrolls and shoving them into Bill's arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings."

She sweeps off towards a dresser to start unloading dinner plates and you grab a cloth and wipe down the table for dinner.

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius says, retaking his usual spot at the table. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

Mundungus, who has been snoring away at the end of the table, stirs and jolts awake. "Someone say m' name? I agree with Sirius..."

He raises his hand in the air as though voting, and you snort.

"Meeting's over, Dung," you say with a smile, giving his back a poke as you pass by with more plates. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" He peers at Harry before his face lights in recognition. "Blimey, so 'e 'as! Yeah...you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Mundungus fumbles in his pockets and produces his trusty black pipe, lighting the tip with his wand and taking a long pull from it. A cloud of green smoke thickens the air around him instantly.

"Owe you an apology," he grunts.

"For the last time, Mundungus," calls Mrs Weasley in frustration, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"Ah. Right, sorry, Molly."

He stuffs the pipe back into his pocket, with slight reluctance.

Soon, a series of heavy knives are chopping meat and vegetables on their own, supervised by Mr Weasley, while Mrs Weasley stirs a cauldron dangling over the fire. Mundungus, Sirius, and Harry are talking at the table, and from the few snippets you overhear you can tell Sirius is complaining about being stuck inside with nothing to do — which you don't blame him for.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry says bracingly.

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the cleaning's going — "

"What cleaning?" Harry asks.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," Sirius replies, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist, hasn't cleaned anything in years — "

"Sirius?" Mundungus pipes up, eyes focused on a silver goblet in his hands, examining it with immense interest. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," he answers, surveying the goblet with obvious distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come off, though," Mundungus mutters thoughtfully, scrubbing the crest with his cuff.

"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs Weasley shrieks.

Fred and George have bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, to hurtle through the air towards the table. Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus leap away, just in time to avoid the pot of stew that skids the length of the table before stopping at the end, the flagon of butterbeer that falls with a crash and spills over the surface, dripping onto the floor, and the sharp knife that slips from the breadboard and sticks in the table where Sirius' hand had been moments before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Mrs Weasley screams, face red with fury. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred says, hurrying forward and wrenching the knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate — didn't mean to — "

Harry and Sirius are laughing, and you turn your face away to hide your laughter from the furious Mrs Weasley. Mundungus struggles to his feet, swearing and muttering under his breath.

"Boys," Mr Weasley steps in, lifting the stew pot back into the middle of the table. "Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age — "

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley snaps at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table while you clean away the mess from the previous with your wand. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy — "

She stops dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband. Mentions of Percy are not particularly welcomed in the house at the moment, after Percy and Mr Weasley had an especially heated argument and Percy chose his job at the Ministry over his own family.

"Let's eat," Bill says quickly.

For a few minutes, there is silence in the room but for the scraping of plates and cutlery and the creak of chairs as everyone settles down for the meal. You sit beside Sirius, who smiles and pulls your chair closer to his as you eat.

He tugs on the sleeve of your jumper, rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. "I like this, it suits you. You look very pretty."

You scoff, giving him a smile. "Of course you like it, Sirius, it's yours. Anyways, I'm thinking of going back home soon just to collect a few things," you say. "Is there anything you want? I am seriously missing my telescope here — "

A loud burst of laughter drowns out the rest of your words, as Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus roll around in their chairs.

"...and then," chokes Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'Dung, where did ya get all them toads from? 'Cause some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says, 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back off me for twice what 'e paid in the first place — "

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings thank you very much, Mundungus," Mrs Weasley says sharply.

"Beg pardon, Molly," he answers at once, wiping his face and winking at Harry. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em of Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing anything wrong — "

"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seemed to have missed a few crucial lessons," Mrs Weasley says coldly, before shooting a particularly nasty look at Sirius and standing up to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for dessert.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Mundungus is certainly not the most law-abiding man, but he has his uses.

"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius says quietly to Harry.

"How come he's in the Order?"

"He's useful," Sirius mutters. "Knows all the crooks — "

"Well, he would, seeing as he is one himself," you add, taking a sip from your wine.

Sirius nods. "He's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you."

Several helpings of crumble later, the air in the room moves to a relaxed laziness as you finish telling the story of Remus's first time getting drunk at Hogwarts to Tonks, who giggles and laughs while Remus shakes his head and becomes increasingly interested in his goblet. Sirius's hand rests on your hip, idly drawing circles with his finger.

"I don't — uh — I don't remember that," Remus says, cheeks crimson as he glances at Tonks to see her reaction.

You hum, smiling at him. "Well, I certainly do. "

Tonks smiles appreciatively at Remus, yawning loudly.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley says, yawning too.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius says, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The change in the atmosphere is rapid: Mrs Weasley sits bolt upright, her fists clenched; Remus lowers his goblet warily, eyes meeting yours.

"I did!" Harry says indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so — "

"And they're quite right," Mrs Weasley says firmly. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius asks, raising his eyebrows. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen — "

"Hang on!" George interrupts loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" says Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"

"You're too young, you're not in the Order," Fred says in a high-pitched imitation of his mother. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's been doing," Sirius says calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand — "

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs Weasley says sharply, a dangerous look on her face. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" His tone is polite, but you spot the familiar tense in his jaw and know that this calmness won't last long.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs Weasley replies stonily.

Everyone else in the room is dead silent, their eyes flitting between Sirius and Mrs Weasley as though watching a tennis match. You meet Remus's eyes across the table, subtly shaking your head.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," says Sirius. "But he was the one who saw Voldemort come back. He has more right than most to — "

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs Weasley snaps. "He's only fifteen — "

"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order, and more than some — "

"No one's denying what he's done!" Mrs Weasley's voice rises, her fists trembling with anger. "But he's still — "

"He's not a child!" Sirius says impatiently.

"He's not an adult either! He's not James, Sirius!"

Sirius stares back at Mrs Weasley, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. His voice is ice. "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are!" Mrs Weasley says hotly. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" says Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demands, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly — "

"Enough," you say loudly, stopping the two. You inhale deeply. "Harry deserves to know a certain amount. He has been left in the dark for a month, and I have no doubt that he's used this time to come up with a few interesting theories of what's been going on. Don't you think he deserves to know what is true, from us, rather than a muddled version from...others?"

You don't doubt that a few of Fred and George's Extendable Ears have survived Mrs Weasley's purge.

Mrs Weasley looks back at you, breathing deeply. "Well..." she looks around the table for support, but receives none. "Well...I can see that I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart — "

"He's not your son," Sirius says quietly.

"He's as good as!" Mrs Weasley snaps back fiercely. Great, just when you thought the argument had come to an end. "Who else has he got?"

You pause, hoping you misheard her.

"He's got us!" Sirius snaps back, gesturing between you and him.

"Yes. The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Immediately, you feel your anger flare and you glare daggers back at her. "It's not like he had a choice, Molly!" You snap defensively. "How could you say something like that — "

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Remus says sharply. "Sirius, sit down."

Sirius, who had begun to rise from his chair, sinks slowly back into his seat, face white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continues calmly. "He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry says at once.

Mrs Weasley looks at him for a moment, swallowing harshly. "Very well. Ginny — Hermione — Ron — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

Instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George cry together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron shouts.

"Mum, I want to!" Ginny wails.

"NO!" shouts Mrs Weasley, her chest heaving as she stands. "I absolutely forbid — "

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr Weasley says wearily. "They are of age."

"They're still at school — "

"But they're legally adults now."

"I — alright, fine, Fred and George can stay, but Ron — "

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron says heatedly. "Won't — won't you?" He adds uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

"'Course I will."

Ron and Hermione beam.

"Fine!" Mrs Weasley shouts. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

You hear Ginny stomping and raging at her mother all the way up the stairs, awakening Walburga's portrait when she reaches the hall. You sigh, hurrying off to force the curtains shut over the crazy woman with immense effort. You return, shutting the door to the stairs behind you, and fall back into your seat with a heavy sigh.

"Okay, Harry...what do you want to know?" Sirius speaks.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," Harry asks immediately, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything — "

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," says Sirius. "Not as far as we know, anyway...and we do know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Remus adds.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asks.

"He doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," you answer. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't quite come off the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Remus says with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry questions, perplexed.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius says. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters were supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," says Remus. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?"

"Are you kidding?" Bill says incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix the day Voldemort returned," says Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" asks Harry, looking around the table at everyone.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius answers.

"How do you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," says Remus, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," says Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," you say.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill tells. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because the Ministry is still in denial," you say with a sigh. "You saw Fudge after Voldemort came back, Harry — he hasn't changed his mind at all. He's completely refusing to believe it."

"But why?" Harry asks desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore — "

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," says Mr Weasley with a wry smile. "Dumbledore."

"Fudge is frightened of him," you say.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry says incredulously.

"Frightened of what he's up to," says Mr Weasley. "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want — "

"Of course he doesn't," Mr Weasley speaks, adjusting his spectacles. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

Remus clears his throat. "Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice. But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry says angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up — that I'd make it up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius says bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"Ignorance is bliss," you say sardonically.

"You see the problem," Remus says. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they don't really want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's 'rumourmongering', so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" says Harry, looking around the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"

You smile humourlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" Sirius says grimly.

"And people don't exactly find the wife of said criminal the most trustworthy either," you say bleakly, shrugging.

"I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Remus tells. "Occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius explains, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a few people though," Mr Weasley says optimistically. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you is putting the news out that Voldemort is back — " Harry begins, but Sirius stops him.

"Who said none of us was putting the news out? Why d'you think Dumbledore is in so much trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asks.

"They're trying to discredit him," Remus explains. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot — that's the Wizard High Court — and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill chimes in, grinning.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr Weasley says shortly. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way — well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asks quickly.

You exchange a glance with Sirius before he says, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

Harry stays looking confused, and Sirius continues, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?"

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry asks. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra — ? "

"That's enough."

From the shadows beside the door, Mrs Weasley stands, her expression furious. "I want you in bed, now. All of you."

"You can't boss us — " Fred begins.

"Watch me," she snarls, before turning her unapproving gaze on Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straight away."

"Why not?" Harry says. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight — "

"No."

This time, it's not Mrs Weasley who speaks, it's Remus.

"The Order is comprised of overage wizards," he says.

"Wizards who have left school," you add quickly, seeing the twins open their mouths. You sigh, pushing your chair away from the table, patting Sirius's arm softly. "Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough. I think it's time everyone got some rest."

He gives a half-shrug but doesn't argue, waiting as Mrs Weasley leads her children and Harry upstairs to their bedrooms.

Later, you yawn around your toothbrush, facing the mirror in the dimly-lit ensuite off Sirius's bedroom.

"She can't seriously think leaving Harry in the dark about all this is the better option," Sirius muses testily, idly fiddling with your jewellery on the nightstand as he talks. "He's not a child. He's deserves to know what's going on."

"I agree."

"And the way she brought up James — as if I can't tell the difference between my best friend and my godson," he continues in frustration. "I know he's not James, of course I know that — "

You spit into the sink, pulling the tap to rinse it out. "She didn't know James. She doesn't know how difficult it is to stop yourself from looking at Harry and seeing him. How hard it is to not look for him and Lily in everything."

"No," Sirius says after a moment. "She doesn't."

You run your hands down your face, sighing. "I can't believe she said that thing about you in Azkaban. I can't believe she would stoop that low, as if you had any fucking choice to be in there."

"She hates me," he says. "Do you see the looks she gives me?"

"She doesn't hate you," you tell him wearily, flicking off the light and closing the bathroom door behind you. You lean against the doorframe, folding your arms. "She's scared and worried about Harry, that's all. She's stressed."

"She's not the only one."

"No, she's not," you say softly, making your way over to where he sits on the bed, gently taking his face in your hands. "Look, forget about it now. What's done is done, there's no use dwelling on it now."

He sighs, leaning into your touch with a small sigh. "You really are the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"I try."

He kisses your knuckles one by one, then presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "And clever."

You hum, watching as his lips slowly travel up your arm, arriving at your neck, where he lingers for several moments to kiss every inch of exposed skin he can reach. "And beautiful."

He pulls you toward him so you're straddling his legs, and he grins. "So very beautiful indeed."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-seven here!

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