#(no I do NOT need to hear that you dislike the series that much)

[readsaboutreid]

Everything To Me | S.R.

summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.

this is 100% season 1 spencer

warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort

��(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.

“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"

"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.

"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.

“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."

(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.

"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.

"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.

Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.

Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.

With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.

"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"

Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.

As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.

Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest

as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.

"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."

Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?

Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.

As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”

As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.

"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."

Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.

As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."

(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.

They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.

As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”

(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.

Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.

As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.

Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.

After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"

(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."

Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.

As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."

(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.

The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.

Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"

"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.

Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.

Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.

After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.

With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.

As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.

The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.

Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.

The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.

She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.

(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.

Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.

"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.

As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.

"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.

As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.

(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.

As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.

"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."

As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.

Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.

As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.

Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."

(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.

Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.

As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.

After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.

The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.

Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.

With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.

As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.

"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"

Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.

As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.

Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.

As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.

"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.

Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."

They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.

The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.

As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.

As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.

But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.

As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.

"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."

Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.

After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.

The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.

Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.

"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.

As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.

As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.

They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”

“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.

“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.

Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?

But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.

Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.

"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.

(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.

[diqldrunks]

DATE ME TO SCARE THEM — R. CAMERON

summary: rafe cameron didn't do girlfriends, or make deals — so why did he agree so quickly to being your fake boyfriend — for the sole purpose of pissing off your parents? (based off the song 18 by anarbor)

a/n: this is very different from the original which got lost when my acc got terminated

cw/tw: none! this is really short but other parts will be much longer!! asks for rafe (in this au and others) are open!! anons are welcome!

word count: 0.8k

DMTST — PART ONE

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:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

you and rafe had been sitting on the beach when you asked him.

it was late summer, and the sun was slowly setting. the two of you had spent the entire day together, and the entire time, rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something to upset you.

you had barely said 5 words to him that hadn’t been prompted by a question he asked you; there was an air of awkwardness surrounding the two of you and any interaction you had, and rafe hated it.

he spent ages going over anything and everything he had said, trying to figure it out. he'd eventually decided he'd had enough, and when you were reapplying your lip gloss, he decided to speak up.

"sweets," he asked, using the nickname he began using years ago after he realised the extent of your sweet tooth, "everything good with you? anything going wrong in your little world that i can help out with?"

the two of you had met two years ago, when your parents had dragged you to an overly formal dinner at the country club after you had moved — you were sat across from him and one of his sisters, sarah. together, the three of you tried to tune out the insufferably dull conversations that were happening — with one of ways being rafe and sarah explaining kildare to you, introducing the concept of ‘pogues’ and ‘kooks’ (with sarah later introducing you to some of her kook friends without rafe’s knowledge).

after a couple of these dinners, the three of you became friends — with it soon becoming commonplace for you to spend days and nights at the cameron’s’. you spent mornings in town shopping, afternoons on the boat and evenings at parties. though you met other people your age — both kooks and pogues — and became friendly with them, rafe and sarah were always the ones you were closest to.

over time, sarah became more distant, and your afternoons on the beach as a trio became just you and rafe. your parents weren’t that happy, having voiced their dislike for the boy, but as they worked away for business a lot, they didn’t have a chance to stop it. this month, they were away again, in chicago this time for a series of conferences, but were coming back in a few days.

they had phoned you a few weeks ago, and were clearly excited to be talking to you — one of their business executive friends had a son, and, although they didn’t say it explicitly, they expected you to go on a few dates with him. his name was matthew, and he was coming to outer banks with his father a few days after your parents return.

you were anxious and angry, and for days had been racking your brain for a solution — one that you could make last as long as you matthew went back home. you had eventually came up with a plan — it was risky, and frankly just a terrible idea, but it should work. you just had to get rafe on board.

you looked to rafe, his hair almost glowing gold from the sunlight.

"i need you to be my boyfriend."

the brunette paused, one of his hands frozen in place as it hovered over the cooler from where he was about to grab a second beer.

he was silent for a moment, his eyebrows slightly raised so the ends of his hair began to cover them.

"i'm sorry sweets, i need to what?"

this time your voice was louder than before, but still quiet enough that rafe had to try and block out the sound of the crashing waves to hear you clearly. "i need you to date me for the next two weeks — three at a push."

you take a quick look at rafe before turning you attention back to the hands in your lap as you continue to talk. "it's my parents — they're coming to visit for a few weeks and the last time i spoke to them, they were trying to set me up with one of their business friend’s sons — a guy called matthew-"

rafe ran a hand through his hair. "god sweets, do i really have to get dragged into this? your parents despise me-"

"that’s why this is so perfect rafe. they are setting me up for misery — let’s be real, matthew’s going to be as dull as a rock. i want to throw this stupid idea back in their faces — make sure they won’t do this again."

"you’re gonna use me to piss off your parents, sweets?" rafe smirked, remembering just how much you're parents hated him. "fake date me just so you can scare them?” rafe pauses, pretending to think. god, he was insufferable. “i don't know, seems like an awfully one sided deal..."

you needed rafe to agree, otherwise you risk sitting opposite full matthew at the country club for dinner. "rafe cameron i will literally do anything for you to agree."

rafe smirked. "if you say so sweets."

rafe taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @izabellaemerson @spiderflunk @kitty-m30w @vincapandora @uraesthete @wickedtactics @harmoneeee24 @starkeybae @fairydvstss @alexiskirkland @devils-blackrose @makaylalovessmut @winterrrnight @clearbolts @slayystuff @neilove @littlemissborntolose @emyslittlebubble @ldrsog @stargrltara @isabelllauer @alexasznisforever @zizuras @sadgirlelenora @djosfuture @leaskisses444

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.

When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 

And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 

Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.

Usually.  

Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.

You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 

That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 

Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 

You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.

Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 

Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 

Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 

You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 

The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 

You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 

Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"

You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.

You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 

You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 

You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 

About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"

The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"

You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."

She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."

"Okay, sweetie." 

You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 

She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 

Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.

You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 

You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.

It's just Matt. 

You open the door and your breath catches. 

It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 

He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 

Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 

"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 

"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 

You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 

"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 

Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."

"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"

Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."

"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 

"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"I told them. About you. About Minnie."

You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 

That's all you want. 

You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 

You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"

He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 

"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 

"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."

You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"

You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"

"I'm hungry!" 

She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 

You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"

Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 

Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 

"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 

Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."

Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"

You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.

"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"

You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 

You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 

Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 

You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 

Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 

Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."

Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 

This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 

Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."

You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."

"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."

The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.

"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 

He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 

You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 

Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 

You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 

Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 

One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.

"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 

Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.

You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 

"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"

The only reply you get is upset screaming. 

"Cover her ears!" 

Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 

You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 

Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 

You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.

Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 

You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 

Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 

You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 

"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 

Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 

That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 

To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 

You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 

"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 

You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.

She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 

You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 

You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.

Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.

He looks absolutely murderous.

He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.

He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.

"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."

You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.

You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 

"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 

You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.

Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.

You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 

Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 

You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."

You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 

You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 

As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 

Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 

Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 

"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 

"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

tags list:

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two-unbeatable-beaters 

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: none. Prompt: Why is it that potions is always so problematic? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Not proofread

Chapter 66: Hot Love

“Well, I certainly know who my partner will be thinking of,” Sirius said maliciously towards Severus, once he overheard the conversation you were having with Slughorn. 

“Yeah, well, I know exactly who you’ll be thinking of as well,” the other boy retorted viciously. “And it won’t be your stupid little girlfriend, will it?” 

Sirius seemed taken aback by his comment. Then he remembered what Severus had seen in the bathroom. “Watch your fucking mouth.” 

Severus tilted his head. “Mine? I’m not the one placing it on other lips. On men’s lips.” 

“Severus,” Sirius warned as he turned to him. The greasy-haired boy was speaking louder than normal on purpose. Thankfully, behind the two was only James and Lily, no longer Peter and his partner since they had reassigned seats.

“What?” Severus tilted his head. “You scared your little girlfriend might hear?” he added with a snide smirk. “What would you do if I told her?” 

“How about you mind your own fucking business?” 

“Touched a nerve?” he asked as he titled his head. “Hope I did. Because if you don’t do exactly what I fucking tell you to do for the rest of potions, then I will make fucking sure she figures out, and it won’t be in a kind way.” 

“What you think you saw–”

“Don’t even fucking bother to make excuses,” he added. “Is that the real reason they kicked you out of the family? Was Potter perhaps your first lover?” 

Sirius' eyes were icy as he stared at Severus, his teeth clashing against each other so tight that they almost hurt. The idea that he might have been cast out for liking men was both disheartening and enraging. Not because he hated that he had been cast out but because he knew it would have been a perfect excuse for his parents. Their heir being a fag? Could not possibly live with that!

In a way, he loved that he’d found yet another way to infuriate his mother, but there was still that strong pang in his heart that made him hate himself for having allowed Severus, of all people, to see how he was vulnerable. 

Not that he cared about being outed or about Severs telling you anything, you already knew. But he knew Moony didn’t want the world to know, and he knew you weren’t in love with the idea either. His weakness didn’t lay on him, let alone his own feelings, but in yours and Remus’, and it made it all the more discouraging, especially when he had betrayed your feelings more than once in the past.

“Count the rose petals shreds, would you? We need one hundred and seventy-three,” Severus commanded. 

Sirius breathed out, closed his eyes and bit the bullet. He pulled them out of the jar and laid them on the table before he started counting. We have to do something about him, he thought as he let out a quiet sigh. Severus was clearly enjoying Sirius’ submissiveness, already imagining all the things he’d force Sirius to do with his newfound influence. Although, even then, he wouldn’t drag it on too much. 

He hated Sirius, but there was something more he wanted. He wanted you to feel as bad as he had felt when he saw Lily and James together. He thought it was your fault they started dating, and you became the cause of this and all of his misfortunes. You, Sirius, James and perhaps the stupid werewolf as well. He’d disliked their little group for years, but he never expected Evans to actually fall for James, and it happened just as you joined the school. In his mind, there was no way around it, it was your fault he suffered a heartache, and he would make you miserable in retaliation. 

And while Sirius, feeling miserable, counted the petals, you and Remus were happily measuring your ingredients. “Rosebud petals?” you asked as you revised the small list you’d jotted down in your notebook. 

According to Slughorn, book versions of amorentia often left one or two ingredients out since they did not want students to fully recreate such a powerful potion. But he thought that you should be taught the real potion if any of you actually aspired to become a potioneer. He had a special, annotated book, and he had dictated the ingredients from his own ‘Tried and True’ version. 

“Ready,” Remus answered as he checked the ingredients on the pile you had made on the side. 

“300 grams of Ashwinder Eggs?” You asked and he nodded. “Moon pearl dust?”

“That was two teaspoons, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and ticked the little box next to the ingredient. “Honey Water infused with a drop of mint extract?” 

“It’s here,” he said as he lifted a small beaker with the right amount of it. Honey water was of a very light, slightly luminescent amber tone, made of 4 parts magically distilled water and 1 part honeyblitz luminhoney. You had been taught how to extract luminhoney once in your older school, and while you’d managed to get out of it unscratched, others weren’t quite so lucky. Honeyblitz Bees were rather feisty, and they didn’t like people digging around their honeycomb. Thankfully, Hogwarts had a rather large stash of luminhoney, so you didn’t have to worry too much about harvesting. 

The beaker Remus held in his hand, however, was of a light purplish tone, changed by the drop of mint flower extract. 

You nodded and looked back at your list “Niffler’s Fancy?“

“5 dried leaves crushed in a mortar,” he responded.

“But we added half a leave to make up for what sticks on the sides, yeah?” 

Remus smiled as he heard you and nodded, that had been something he had taught you near the start of the year. It was better to add a little bit more of those ingredients that had to be crushed to dust and squeezed. “And about half a knut of root for potency,” he reassured. 

“Not on the list, I think it’s a brilliant idea,” you responded as you added it to your notes. Potions were no place for heedless improvisation, most required exact ingredients since it was the only way to guarantee that the potion would come out all right; a little bit of the wrong ingredient and you could poison the drinker. But a potioneer with knowledge of the ingredients and their properties –a good potioneer– could add or subtract small bits of certain ingredients to alter their potion’s results. 

When you and Remus got “Outstanding” on your veritaserum, you had actually decided to add an extra Jobberknoll Feather since the ones you got had been rather small. Jobberknol feathers helped both with the potion’s potency and with the durability of its effect. Your potion, according to Slugnorn, had been the longest-lasting, which accounted for an excellent success. You had thought Severus’ face had been hilarious when Slughorn said that and praised your team in front of the entire class.

“7 puffapods?” you asked after you finished scribbling.

“Yeah, we took an extra bean, in case they’re not ripe yet.” 

“We’re not missing anything besides that, are we?” 

“The moonstone extract,” he said as he checked his notes. “Did you write that one down?” 

“Oh no, I was gonna add it in the end but completely forgot,” you said as you did. “How much of that was it?” 

“Few drops,” he said with a frown. “Until the potion reaches a Pygmy Puff pink.” 

“That’s too broad,” you said with a shrug. 

“I thought so, too,” he responded. “I asked Slughorn if there was anything on Flamel’s Potion Hue Scale, and he said to go for FPHS-P63”.

You leaned down and pulled a small booklet, about the size of a chocolate bar, from your bag. At the top, it said FPHS in big letters, and on the inside, it was filled with different colours and their names, almost like a paint sampler. The one you had, had cost a small fortune, but your mother, who had been quite good at potions herself, insisted on getting the complete version instead of the Student one. Remus and you had used it plenty of times, and it had never failed you. Even back when you made polyjuice, getting the right shade of brown (apparently FPHS-B12) had been thanks to the hue scale. 

You placed the booklet on the table next to the ingredients. “That’s it, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smile.

“At least it won’t take us days to brew this one,” you said as you pulled the cauldron out and placed it over the burner –still off, you didn’t need to heat this potion yet. 

“We have the thermometer?” 

“They’re all taken, I was thinking of borrowing one when we need it,” he said and then checked your notes. “Did you pick up some Scourgify Essence by any chance?” 

“Oh yeah, it said the cauldron had to be extremely clean…” you said as you picked the small flask out of your pocket and handed it over to him. 

He carefully picked out a pipet full of it and dropped the liquid onto the cauldron. He then swivelled the liquid inside of it and placed it back on the stand before he took his wand out and whispered, “Scourgify.” The liquid made a light sizzling sound, as if burning, and created a small stream of yellow smoke with a smell oddly reminiscent of marigolds. 

“From the calming drought?” 

He sniffed, “Definitely,” he agreed. “One more time?” 

“To make sure,” you nodded as you added another pipet of the concentrate to the cauldron, this time, you performed the spell. The fizzing sound was a little louder, and the smoke was first green and then white. 

“Green was from polyjuice,” he said as he scrunched his nose to the side, the smallest expression of disgust.

“Imagine how it tasted,” you said. Although you hadn’t smelled anything at all, you’d seen the colour, and you knew Remus had a far better sense of smell. 

“And you did it for the sake of James’ date.” 

“Well, they’re a thing now, aren’t they?” you said with a smile and a small tilt of your head. “When we’re all old, I’ll be able to remind James of the time I sacrificed my sanity and cleaned the men’s loos for the sake of his relationship.”  

“Oh, and you’ll probably remind Lily and their children about it all the time. I can already imagine a senile version of you saying something along the lines of ‘You know, you owe your existence to my sacrifice’”

“I won’t be senile! Old yes, but…”

“We’re all gonna be senile one day,” he said with a smile. “I don’t mind it, though. I won’t mind going insane if it’s beside you.” 

He’d said it so casually, as he poured some of the honey water into the cauldron, that he didn’t even notice how you had almost choked on your own spit at his words. And there he was, gently stirring the liquid inside the caldron as you stared at him. He’s right. Perhaps being senile won’t be as bad if I’m with the two of them. 

“Little Witch?” he asked, for the third time, now he was looking at you. “What were you thinking about?” 

“Bubbles,” you said before he had time to tease you about it, and then grabbed the rose petals and dropped them onto the mortar. 

“Bubbles?” 

“Slughorn said we need to stir lightly, to avoid bubbles,” you repeated, almost mechanically, as you furiously crushed the rose petals in the mortar, your hand was fast and hard onto the surface, a red paste. 

“Intention,” he said with a teasing smile. “Don’t forget your intention.” 

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. He had a know-it-all smile that would have been infuriating had he not looked so handsome. “Worry not, I’m definitely thinking of it,” you said as you crushed the petals a little harder. It was now a rather thick paste. You tried not to think much about growing old with the boys as you looked at the mortar. “Does it say anything about straining?” you asked. 

“Book says it’s recommended, Slughorn didn’t say anything,” he said as he turned to his notes, comparing them with the book’s recipe. 

“It’s kind of lumpy,” you said as you put a little bit more force on the mortar.

“Let me try,” he said as he carefully enveloped your hands with his and replaced their spot on the mortar. One arm tangled with yours as he gently pressed the pestle into the mortar. The paste was made only a little lighter, but it was still quite thick, even after being subjected to his werewolf strength. “Perhaps we should strain it. I’ve never seen a lumpy amortentia…” 

“Me neither,” you said as you grabbed a small ladle and poured two spoonfuls of the potion onto the mortar, he mixed the paste, now much more watery. “Another one?” 

“No, I think that’s enough,“ he retorted as he continued grinding. You were both unnecessarily close to one another. Even more, than you normally were, but it seemed natural for your arms to be entangled with one another, for the side of his chest to be so close that you could tell when he was exhaling and inhaling, as if it was meant to be. As if it had always been meant to be, only you hadn’t quite realised it. 

You grabbed a small straining cloth and placed it on top of the cauldron, stretching it just enough for him to pour the petal paste –now more like petal water- onto it. Most of it went through pretty smoothly, near the end, though he used the same ladle to push the paste towards the straining cloth, squeezing out as much of the liquid still in them as possible. 

When he was done, you pulled the cloth, bunched it up, and pressed your hands on the small lump at the bottom to squeeze out any remaining liquid. 

“Should be enough, right?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, revising the colour of the potion and comparing it to his notes. “Does it look peachy to you?” 

“Book says it should be FPHS-RY2, right?” you said as you took the Hue Scale booklet and looked for the colour. He hummed in response and leaned even closer to you, looking over your shoulder as you placed the small shit of paper next to the cauldron. 

“We need better light,” he said as he pulled out his wand with an unspoken lumos charm. “It’s a little transparent, but I think it’s the right shade.” 

You looked up at him; he was attentively looking at the chart, his brows slightly knotted from the attentive way he was looking at the colours. You smiled and bit your lip as you looked at him. Perhaps if you weren’t in such a public place, you would have stolen a kiss from him. 

“We need to add the puffapods next,” he said as he picked up the purplish leaves that contained them. “We need to use a dissolving spell once they’re inside.” 

You nodded, taking the leaves in your hand and using a knife to open it. Puffapods were these gooey, light purple balls that smelled rather disagreeably –at least to you– and apparently to Remus as well if the way he pulled back from your side was anything to go by. In potions, it was almost always you who took on the tasks of preparing the stronger-smelling ingredients. It’d started after you figured out he was a werewolf, and he didn’t notice you’d been doing it until after he knew about your discovery. He had been so thankful, he made sure to always carry chocolate around with him during potions to give you some after class. 

You used the knife to place the puffapods onto the cauldron and wiped your hands with a rag since some of the mucus had spread out onto your hands. “I think I’ll wash my hands instead,” you said as the smell didn’t subside. 

“I’ll work on the dissolving spell while you’re at it,” he said with a simple nod and you walked towards the end of the classroom where the faucets were. By the time you walked back, Remus was already working on cracking the ahwinder eggs. The liquid inside them was a pinkish and gooey slime, with no smell to it, but when they crashed onto the rest of the potion, the smell of puffapods was swallowed completely, leaving an oddly pleasant smell of something earthy, almost like wet grass or mint.

Remus seemed to notice the change as well. “Mint?” he asked. 

“And something leathery, I think…” you said. He nodded in agreement. The smell of your potion had been so strong that apparently even Tom, on the table behind you also noticed it.

“Does anybody else smell something like sandalwood and lavender cologne?” 

“No,” said Beth as she shrugged. “It does kind of smell kind of citrusy thought.” 

“Concentrate on your brews,” Slughorn said to no one in particular, although he had a faint smile on his face as if he too had smelled something pleasant. 

“Did we bring the distiller?”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled the crystal vases and started accommodating them all, lighting the burner with a small incendio, as you busied yourself with cutting up the niffler’s fancy leaves. It was quite common for you and Remus to work like that. Almost as if you could read each other’s minds. With a set of instructions, the two of you could go step by step almost without saying a word, just knowing exactly what the other would do with the ingredients they took in their hands. 

By the time he was done accommodating, you’d already chopped all the leaves and placed them in a beaker with exactly 9 oz of Potioneer Water for distilling magical ingredients and a knut of root. He tilted the end of the flask, and you poured it onto the blown glass opening. The mixture started bubbling, and the smaller flask on the other side of the pipets started slowly being filled with drops of lightly blue-tinted water. 

Remus checked his watch. “I think we can start boiling the potion,” he said as he handed over the burner, and you accommodated it under the cauldron. “Low, green fire,” he said. 

“Right,” you said as you filled the small of the glass bottle with dragon’s breath alcohol and sprinkled it with verdant ember dust.

“You’ll need this one too,” Remus said as he handed over an emerald wick, while it wasn’t strictly necessary to use one  –they were more expensive than normal wicks– they did help with purer fire, and Slughorn allowed students to use them in some of the more complicated potions. 

“Brilliant,” you said as you accommodated the three wicks and tightened the top of the burner. You placed it underneath the cauldron and turned the fire on with your wand, rolling the small knob at the top to lower the intensity of the fire. The diopside flames crashed against the cast iron of the cauldron. “Temperature should stay under 65 °C,” you said as you checked your notes. 

Rem turned around, looking towards Beth and Tom. They seemed to be doing fine, although their potion was a little lumpy, they could always strain it in the end. “Do you guys have a thermometer?”  

“Yeah,” Tom said as he handed it over. They were still trying to peel the puffapods, one of them had blown up on Beth’s hand, and they were both busy trying to clean off the slime off their table. ��Scourgify,” Remus said. The mucus disappeared from their table and from Beth’s robes. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she looked up at him. Then she turned to look at Tom and handed him the pod leaf. “You try now.” 

“No problem,” Rem said and turned back towards your potion, carefully securing the thermometer onto the side of the cauldron, and allowing only the very tip to touch the potion. You had already pulled out a special crystal spoon that was meant for mixing delicate potions. “It’s three clockwise and six counters every 5 minutes, right?” 

“Yup,” you said as you pulled out the spoon, allowed it to drip and, with a gentle wave of your hand, caused the hourglass at the end of the table to turn around.

While the time passed, both you and Remus compared your notes, scribbled so fast after Slughorn dictation that some words were almost intelligible, but in between the two of you, you’d managed to get a very complete recipe, annotating all the changes, and moving the recipe to the compendium you had both created for the class. 

At the beginning of the year, Slughorn had suggested you start your own potion book. With whatever alterations you made, or got recommended by him, and a detailed memoir of your experience making each potion. You had both decided to add the memoir as a separately attached parchment and use the notebook as your personal recipe book. The sections on polyjuice, Veritaserum and Draught of Living Dеath were the longest and most detailed, since you had made a few modifications to them, and they were also the ones both you and Remus thought could be useful later. The plan was to use Gemino by the time it was ready so you both could keep your own copy. 

“We strained before adding the rose petals, instead of in the end, yeah?” 

He hummed in return and pointed at the straining cloth you’d used. “I think you used acromantula silk for that.” 

“Yeah, the finest available,” you said as you added that as a footnote. 

Then, there was a soft chime from the end of the table. “I’ll do the mixing,” Remus said softly as you looked towards the cauldron. “Focus on getting that thought down,” he added as he walked behind you and placed a hand on the back of your neck. He picked the spoon from the plate you’d left it on and dipped it into the potion, gently making the necessary turns and eyeing you as you wrote down some details of the peeling and adding of the puffapods. He smiled as he saw you gently biting your lower lip in concentration. He thought you looked absolutely adorable.

“I think I’m gonna add an extra clockwise stir.” 

“Okay,” you said as you scribbled that on the side of your parchment. Remus was brilliant at calculating the mixing process, so you never questioned his judgement regarding extra stirs. 

When he was done, you waved your hand again, restarting the clock and then focusing on the small drawing of the puffapods you’d decided to add to the side of the ingredients list. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re writing things down,” he said with a smile as he leaned a little closer to you. Taking a pencil from the end of the table as an excuse for leaning against you.

You could feel your cheeks heating up from how close he was and how terribly delightful he smelled. Or perhaps it was the entire classroom that smelled nice? No, that’s not it, you thought. There was still some of that Puffapod smell coming from somewhere near the back. Even then, his smell, or the smell around you at least, seemed to overpower your senses. The temptation to turn around and kiss him was almost too strong to resist. But you somehow managed to force your eyes back onto the paper. 

“Don’t be such a tease,” you murmured.

“It’s not teasing,” he insisted, drawing just a little closer. “It’s true.” 

You had to bite your cheeks not to let out a strangled sound. His presence was overwhelming to you at that moment. And you didn’t want to fight it, you wanted only to give in. 

“Keep in mind the sole smell of amorentia can cause havoc,” Slughorn said. “Be careful as you smell it, and remember that perhaps your thoughts are being affected by the brewing. Especially during the infusion period.” 

Remus turned to Slughorn and upon realising just how close he’d gotten to you, practically pressing his chest onto your back. He pulled back almost in an instant, taking a pencil with him and clearing his throat. “That’s the thing you needed?” he asked as he left an eraser on your notebook.

You knew he was only covering for his overly affectionate moment seconds ago, but you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “Thanks, Luv.” 

He threw you a reproachful look since you rarely used that nickname with him. You simply smiled and sent a short wink his way. Then you turned towards the destination area you’d set up earlier. “I think it’s done,” you said. There was 3 oz of blueish liquid on the small crystal tube. “It’s probably very concentrated.” 

“Yeah,” Remus said as he turned off the fire on that burner and used his want to float the tube towards his face. The smell emanating from it was earthy and fresh, exactly like distilled niffler’s fancy should smell like. 

When the hourglass chimed again, he poured the liquid onto the potion and turned the fire off. The potion was now of a light lilac colour, thick slow bubbles seemed to start at the very top and face towards the bottom of the cauldron, the smell much more powerful now. There was a small hint of chocolate on it now too. At least for you, for Remus, it smelled a little like the perfume you’d worn to the slugparty. 

“Is that meant to happen?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’s actually a good sign,” he said as he took the crystal spoon and started stirring. “It’s four and then the pearl dust,” he said.

“Ready,” you said as you took the small recipient with the premeasured shimmery dust.

He turned his hands counterclockwise four times, and you started throwing the dust on the cauldron, gently tapping on the sides of the crystal recipient to make sure all of it fell where it was meant to. After three more stirs, the smell had become even more potent than before. Some students from the back of the class were even peeking through their own cauldrons, trying to figure out where the nice scents were coming from. 

“And now it’s the last ingredient,” he said as he pulled out the small dropper with the moonstone extract. Meanwhile, you took the FPHS and looked for the P63. You lit your wand up next to the potion, which was a silvery lilac colour and had a shimmering-like effect –caused by the pearl dust. 

He poured one drop, and the colour changed, becoming a little more warm. Rem added three more drops, and it already looked pink, just a very pale, almost rose-petal pink, not quite P63. He added two more drops, and the colour was already much closer to a match. Not to mention the smell of the potion had become even stronger, almost intoxicating from how much it drew you in, and towards each other. Even Sirius, who had been impossibly annoyed by Severus throughout his entire class, had turned around and started staring at the two of you working on the last steps of your potion. The smell drawing you and Remus in, seeming to work just the same on him.

 “One or two more?” Remus asked. 

You frowned and bit your lip, looking at the colour it was and thinking of the one you wanted to achieve. All the while also thinking of both Remus and Sirius and how potent the smell of them on the potion was by now. “Two,” you said confidently.

He poured two more drops and the potion finally matched P63, the smell became so strong for a moment that it flooded the entire classroom, everyone seemed to turn to look towards your table and you heard Severus curse under his breath. You wonder if his potion smelled like the Rosehoney of Lily’s perfume, or if perhaps it was the tropical smell of her muggle coconut shampoo she loved so much that he was perceiving.  

Slughorn walked towards your table, the smell was still strong, but he had used a spell to dissipate some of the smell outside of the classroom through the ventilator tubes on the sides of the walls. 

“It seems we have the first finished potion,” he said as he approached. “And the scent is quite strong, too. Perhaps some of the strongest amorentia I’ve smelled.”

“Thank you, Professor,” both you and Remus said at the same time. 

“Nothing to thank for,” he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now, tell me, what do you smell?” 

You cleared your throat. “There’s a minty leathery smell, perhaps with some undertones of pine trees and fresh morning air,” you said. 

“And the next scent?” 

“Books,” you said, “and um… something sweet,” you didn’t want to say it was chocolate in case someone was listening in to the conversation. 

“The last one?” 

“It’s the smell of a forest at night,” you said. “Damp earth and moss, wild herbs, evergreen and dew. I also detect a bit of–” you stopped yourself. “Never mind, I don’t know what it is.” 

Slughorn looked at you with a bit of a suspicious air, but Remus was the one who had to bite his lips in order to stop a smile from spreading. He had a faint idea of what you might be smelling since he too had gotten that. 

“And you, Mr. Lupin?” 

“Books too,” he said. “A perfume, don’t know what it’s made of, and something musky and earthy.” 

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully as if he was considering the smells. “And?” 

“Ugh, I’m not sure what that is,” he lied. It was the same leathery scent you had smelled, except for him it smelled more of Sirius’ fancy citric soap –even after he got kicked out of his house, he still bought the same elegant soap, and whenever he left the bathroom the entire place was imprinted with that smell. That smell had not only imprinted itself on the bathroom but also on Remus’ mind. The things he had imagined weren’t something he had been proud of after he’d emptied himself out in the shower. “Perhaps some kind of soap,” he added in the end. 

“And the last smell?” 

“Can’t tell,” he lied again. It was the smell of his coat that night at the Potters. You and Sirius. As unmistakable as the sun, and as obvious as the Moon or the brightest star in the night’s sky.  

“Perhaps if you lean a little closer?” Slughorn said as he tilted his head. 

“I mean, I definitely smell something,” Remus corrected. “I just don’t know what the scent is.”

“Well, that’s rather interesting,” he said with a smile. You sensed he was about to ask something else. And you knew the tight spot Rem was in, so you decided to intervene. 

“What do you smell, Professor?” 

“What do I–” he asked, almost puzzled. “Well, I…” 

Got him, you thought as you saw his nervousness. “I mean not to pride, Professor. I just wanted to know if our potion was successful.” 

“Oh yes, excellently so,” he nodded as he composed himself. ”I smell flowers, evening flowers to be precise. A gardenia, evening primrose and  Abyssinian gladiolus,” he explained. “I think there’s some serpent musk and I believe that’s the very particular smell of giant squid ink and old books.” 

“Do you also feel a third smell?” you asked. The more he lost himself in his own thoughts, the further he’d be from asking Remus something else. Rem threw an almost nervous look your way and reached for your hand from under the table, you squeezed his reassuringly, not taking your gaze away from Slughorn. 

Slughorn hesitated, only now realising how intrusive he might have seemed as he asked you and Remus to describe the scents you perceived in the potion. “Yes,” he said. The smell was quite strong and clear for him. “Cold and crisp air. The kind of scent you get from standing on a cliff.” And there was also something of that coppery scent that dark magic carried mixed into it, but as you and Remus had done earlier, he decided not to elaborate further on the thing he smelled.

“Oh,” you said as you leaned towards the potion again. “Should we bottle this then?” 

“Please,” he said with a smile. “There are some clean bottles on my table. You may pick whichever you like,” he added before he walked towards a different table. 

“What was the thing you didn’t mention?” Remus asked as he leaned a little closer to you.

“Canine scent,” you said with a smile. “Moony and Pads. You?” 

“Your perfume,” he admitted. “And…” There was a hesitation there, an almost imperceptible gulp before he was brave enough to speak it aloud.  “My coat.” 

“Your coat?” you asked confused, and then it dawned on you. “By Merlin. Your coat!” 

“And Sirius’ soap.” 

“The one that smells kind of like tangerine and sandalwood?” He nodded. You hummed shortly in response. “I’ll get a bottle,” you said as you walked towards Slughorn’s desk. 

The assortment of bottles there was huge. From small bottles that could only be used to hold extremely powerful –or explosive-prone– potions, to the larger flask that would normally be used for potions with a longer shelf life or that were used quite frequently (like Pomfrey’s Skellegro). You sorted through the bottles and grabbed a medium-sized one.  About the size of a flattened apple, and with quite a similar shape as well. It was quite heart-shaped, but it was quilted,  hobnailed, or something in between, and it had the slightest pinkish hue that you thought could perhaps enhance the shimmering P63 of your potion.

It’s not that you cared so much about the presentation, but you knew Slughorn did, he had an eye for beautiful things. The way he stored his own potions was indicative enough, besides, every time he was giving a beautiful-looking potion, whoever had given it got either praise for it or a better grade. So once you’d chosen what you thought would be the right bottle, you moved over to find a cork that would fit. 

While you were walking back to your table you heard an explosion coming from a cauldron near the back. “Mr. Prewet, how on earth did you manage to blow something up in a potion with no explosive ingredients?” 

“I think I confused purple explosivepods with puffapods,” he said as he looked at the small gooey –much brighter– leaf in his hand… Sorry.” 

Slughorn sighted and quickly vanished all the ingredients from his table with a simple “evaneso.” Then he looked at the boy rather sternly. “You and your partner will write an essay on everything that went wrong in your potion to pass the assignment.” 

 “Can’t I do that too?” someone asked. It was Janice, one of Beth’s roommates. 

“No, Miss Stevenson. You must finish your potion.” 

“But it’s blue!” She complained as she stared at her cauldron. “It’s meant to be pink!” 

“Did you distil the niffler’s fancy leaves?” You asked.

“Distil?” she asked as she stared back at her book. “It’s not on the instructions.” 

“No,” Slughorn said. “But I mentioned it was much better to distil it, since sometimes niffler’s fancy leaves are inconsistent in concentrations.” 

“You did?” she asked with a frown to which Slughotn nodded. 

You gave her an apologetic smile and a shrug. “You could try adding a little bit more honeywater to even things out, but you’ll have to improvise with the stirring…” 

Remus, who was writing some stuff down on his parchment, turned to look at her as well. “I think you’d need 4 extra turns to the right and one to the left for it to work.” 

“It’s five to the right,” Severus said with an eye roll. “Or 6, depending on how much honey water they add.” 

Remus looked back at his notes with a small frown, scribbling something before scoffing. “Snape is right, 6 to be certain.” 

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a smile, looking both at you and Remus and then a much shyer, almost scared look towards Severus. “And you,” she added much more quietly. 

“I was just correcting Lupin, I don’t care about your potion,” he retorted and went back to his cauldron. 

She just swallowed and walked towards the ingredient cabinet to get the stuff she would need to, hopefully, fix her mess. 

You walked back towards Rem with the flask, he’d already picked out the crystal funnel, and you accommodated onto the opening of the flask while he used the ladle to slowly fill up the bottle. Once the bottle was filled, there was still about half as much potion left inside the cauldron. 

Normally whatever was left over (unbottled) became “Caput Mortuum” as Slughorn liked to call it, and he threw it down the drain. But before you had time to pick up the cauldron, Slughorn was back at your table. “Finished?” 

“Almost,” you said as you removed the funnel and passed the cork to Remus who had already picked out the label you’d be adding. 

“Excellent,” he said and moved his wand on top of your cauldron. “Potio Evanesco,” he said. The potion spiralled down until it completely disappeared. “Last time a strong potion like this one was poured down the drain, the school had quite a wild week,” he explained. “You may leave after your clean-up,” he said after revising his watch.” 

“Thank you,” Remus replied. Since the cauldron was already clean, you limited yourselves to just taking the leftover ingredient flasks and placing them back in their respective cabinets. 

As you were walking back to your place to pick your bag up, you decided to pay a small visit to Sirius, who looked absolutely miserable as he was writing some things down. 

“How’s the potion?” you asked him.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve only weighed the ingredients three times each.” 

You frowned and turned to look at Severus who looked uncomfortable by how close you were standing to Sirius. “Do you really think three times is absolutely necessary?” 

“Worry about your own brews,” he retorted without looking at you. Not that he was doing anything important. Just looking at his hourglass.

“Has he been like that all class?” Sirius nodded. “I’m sorry for you,” you told Severus. 

“I’m the one that’s sorry for you,” retorted Severus as he finally turned to you. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

He stared daggers at you for a second and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something and then stopped himself. If he was going to make you suffer, he was going to drag it on and end with a bang. Not here where Sirius could just tell you Severus had made it all up, and since you were so enamoured by him, you’d probably gobble all his lies. “Nothing,” he said haughtily. “You’re distracting my partner, please leave.” 

“But he wasn’t doing anything.” 

“He’s writing the log.” 

“And what is he going to write now? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait for another 5 minutes? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait another 4 minutes? Don’t be ridiculous!” 

“You are exhausting my patience, girl.” 

“And you’re exhausting mine,” you retorted. “If you treat people like shit all the time, then it makes sense nobody likes you. Heck even the portraits–” 

“The portraits? How do you even–” There was a second of silence before he looked back at you, with even more hatred than before. “It was you!” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you retorted calmly. “I’m just saying I heard the portraits talk shit behind your back.” And after that, you added. “Severus Snail.” 

Severus stood up from his seat. “You don’t want to continue messing with me.” 

“You’re the one behaving like a child,” you retorted just as aggressively. 

“At least I didn’t get my friend and my mother kiIIed.” You were instantly taken aback by his words. Frozen in place as they sank in. When he knew he’d gotten his hand on a fresh wound, he decided to press even harder. “And that’s not even the only thing that’s breaking apart in your perfect little life, is it? What will you do when–” 

“That’s enough,” Sirius said as he stood in the middle. 

“No, no,” Severus said as he placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder and gently placed him back on his seat. “You sit down if you don’t want me to go running my mouth about you-know-what.”

Sirius gave you a worried look, and it was your short nod that got him to yield. Severus smiled, clearly pleased about being the one with the power in the situation. “At least I have friends, when was the last time you talked to her?” 

Yeah, he might have known where to hurt you, but you also knew how to get back at him. “I have friends!” 

“Severus Snape has no friends,” you said, voice low. “Even the house elves whisper about it.” 

“I’ll make your life bloody miserable. Shatter your little dream house.”

“You’re welcome to try!” 

“Is everything all right?” Slughorn asked as he leaned closer to the three of you. 

“Just came to ask Sirius about some homework we’re working on,” you said as you patted your boyfriend on the back. “Good luck on your potion boys!” 

Remus had been looking at the whole confrontation from his spot, ready to jump in if it ever got to it. And when you walked back towards him, he’d already finished packing most of his, and your things. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lied. The pang of your heart caused by Severus’ nasty words still echoing in your head. “Let’s get out of here,” you added as you slung your bag around your shoulder.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

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[unconventional-lawnchair]

I'll Look After You Chapter Two

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: {Y/N} reunites with a lost soul, learns the fate of two of her old friends

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, mentions of injury and mourning}

Wc- 5142

Taglist- @otterlockholmes @stylesann @adhxmoony

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of your quill tip against the edge of your inkwell filled the small cubicle. With Moody away on a mission, you had no one to snap at you about the small fidgets and bits of noises you made. This was your least favorite part of your internship, just waiting and acting like you had things to do. You knew once Moody got back he'd once again break down how to fill out the mission reports and go back to ignoring your existence. 

You sighed out dramatically and pressed the feathers of the quill between your upper lip and nose. Not noticing as a bit of ink stained your cheek. It had been a few weeks after the dance and the last thing you needed was to be alone with your thoughts. Instead, you focused on the ambiance of moody’s office. The sound of ruffling paper and the scratch of quills to parchment. The buzz of battery operated lights were preferred to the heat trap that was Moody’s desk, his instance on candlelit space and lanterns that burned threw oil like mad, only succeeded in making the small space unbearably hot.

It did set a melancholy, the warm yellows and hazy space truly made you a bit tired. Arms crossing and leaning down on your desk, chin against your arm, before a voice cut threw the monotony.

“Having fun here, gorgeous?” A voice cut threw your thoughts and dragged you out of your slump. Slowly, you smiled to yourself, leaning back and looking over to the familiar figure in the entrance of the mini office. 

“Barty Crouch Jr.” you hummed and he put his hand over his chest in a fake offense. 

“My full name? What happened to ‘little bastard’?” Barty purred and you couldn't help but laugh.

You and Barty never talked at school, even with your small friendship with Pandora and Regulus. He had a certain hatred for your rowdy bunch, and in turn, you hated him. However, ever since you got picked up on your apprenticeship, he was always around the corner.

The first few days of pretending you didn't know him didn't work. His father had a habit of dismissing him during hearings, leading him to stray to you. After the first two trivial encounters of fiddling fingers and weird familiarities, the visits became more willing, unfortunately. He was funny, a bit of a flirt, but you learned quickly it was his expression of love, both platonic and intimate. You usually spent this time together listening to him rant and rave about that Evan Rosier kid in Slytherin.

He was another you didn't care for, but Barty was smitten and you never had the heart to tell him how much you disliked to hear about how Rosier had very kissable lips.

Barty was depraved and his filter was non-existent.

You liked him a lot.

“A thousand apologies, lil bastard. What brings you to my slums?” You hummed and he walked over, taking Moody’s seat, man spreading and leaning all the way back. Using his heels to spin the chair around to face you, before idly swaying. 

“Dad stuff.” He hummed and looked at you before gesturing to the paper in front of you. You lifted the page so he could get a good look at the scribbles. Doodles, your signature signed the paper in several different ways, and some places with swirls and stars. He laughed.

“That's what they have you doing all the time?” He cheeked and grabbed your quill, still between your lip and nose. He fiddled with it while you smirked.

“Yup, I am the big dog here. They wouldn't dare give me real work. They fear my potential is too great. I may tarnish a record or two.”

“Or your father’s reputation.” Barry mumbled and your smile slowly fell. You sat up and leaned your head in your palm. You carefully looked him over. His confident and excitable posture seemed a bit mellow, and his eyes were drifting everywhere but you.

Ah, that's it.

“Did he say something to you?” You mumbled and he gave a loud exaggerated groan, trying to cover up his watery throat. “I just hate coming here. I mean, my dad is kissing ass all day for a chance at the Minister role, basically ignoring me until he's telling me just how awful I am.” He scoffed and tossed your quill on the counter. 

Your brow pinched at his words. Over the very short time you've known Barty, he's always been honest and open with you about his feelings. Maybe it was the anonymity, knowing you wouldn't say a word, you were practically strangers. Or maybe it was how he was with everyone, again, you hardly knew him.

“You know that's not true, right?” You whispered, inching yourself closer by your toes. Barty looked up and slowly smiled at how ridiculous you looked. 

“Yeah?” He mumbled.

“Yeah.” You nodded firmly. “You don't have anything to prove to him.”

“It certainly feels it.” He admitted, looking down. Only for a voice to cut in. 

“Ah! Good to see you feel comfortable, Junior, please, take the whole desk!” Moody boomed from the entryway before he gestured to the two of you. “The two nepotistic children fancy each others company? Who would have guessed.” 

You sighed and gave Barty an apologetic look and he waved his hand. You almost didn't catch the black ink peaking through the top of his sleeves. You quickly reminded yourself that it was likely just a tattoo. Barty was one of the smartest boys you knew, if not the smartest. He wouldn't.

“I'll see you next time.” He put back on his confident look and sent you a wink. You slowly smiled and rolled your eyes, watching as he left. You gathered your things as Moody began to sit down. 

“And where do you think yur goin?” He snarked as you filled your bag. 

“It's five, Moody. I don't have to waste any time in this building after closing for another two years. Be seeing you.” You dismissed him and he scoffed, “Just because the clock says you're done, you give up? That's not how this world works, girl!”

You scoffed at him, before a familiar voice called out to you two. “Oh, come on, grump. Let the lil Niffler go, she had school in the morning.” 

You snapped around on your heel to be greeted by the Prewett twins. Smiling bright at Fabian who was rubbing the back of his neck with a yawn, before Gideon gestured you over. Both of them clearly packed up and ready to go.

“Come on then, we'll walk you to a floo flame.” The older twin spoke up and you nodded, smiling brighter. Hurrying over with a mutter of thanks. 

“And stop calling me Niffler.”

“Anything for our little coffee runner.” Gideon mused and threw his arm over your shoulder, making you groan.

“Actually, Niffler is fine.”

~~~

You woke with a stir, once again, from a knock on your bedroom door. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in your surroundings with a start, before you slowly calmed. That wasn't the first time you had a dream about your past memories, but it was the first time it had been that vivid. It was reassuring to be met with the dark thistle print wallpaper, the wood furniture, and the absolute plush mess that was your bed.

Your bedroom wreaked of your youth, records on the wall, half eaten by the vermin that invaded the home. Gryffindor memorabilia that trumped your small touches of green, somehow staying the brightest thing in your home. You did your best to restore it, but it had been a three month long mission returning it to its past glory.

The knock came again and you snapped from your thoughts, sitting up and groaning. “Come in!” 

You rubbed your eyes as the door opened, peaking between your fingers as they strained the skin around your eyes, as if that would help wake you.

“Morning.” The familiar sweet honey-like sound filled the room. You slowly smiled as you saw Remus enter, holding two cups of coffee. His voice was always deep in the mornings, more hoarse than most. He must have been up for a while.

“Moony, you're the absolute best.” You mused and made grabby hands for the cup. He laughed and set it in your hands, tapping your calf. You bent your legs on command and he took the space your legs previously occupied.

“Did I wake you?” He hummed before he took a sip of his own bitter mixture. You nodded along and took in the rich smell of what was once expensive and surely delicious foreign coffee, drowned out by an excessive amount of sugar and milk. 

“Mhm.. how long have you been up?” You quizzed and took a sip of your overly sweet drink. 

“Just a few hours. Padfoot took Harry out to go fly on his new broom over the fields. Woke me up.” He chuckled and you gave a fond smile. The summer had gone so smoothly so far, everything was domestic and homely. It had only been two months, but you fell into an easy routine.

“I hope he takes good care of this one. It would be poetic, Sirius gave him his first and last broom.” You smiled and stared down at the bubbles forming on the top of the coffee. Remus turned to look fully at you, before he slowly reached out to grab one of your ankles, his large hands covering a bit of your calf as well, before he began to rub the skin a bit. You had to bite your bottom lip to keep your mind on one side of the road.

Living with the boys was domestic bliss, living with Remus and Sirius was marital hell.

“You're drifting.” He whispered and you nodded, setting your cup down.

“Just.. odd is all.” You mumbled and looked down at your thumbs. He pressed his thumb flat against your ankle and tried to persuade you to continue. “Odd?”

“Odd. I know the years I lived as a muggle weren’t real, based on fabricated memories..” You trialed off and looked away. “But finding out those memories weren't real and..” You gestured around. “Learning all that's happened. I'm sure there's more I don't know. I had to learn from an old newspaper what happened to Harry, Moody wouldn't give me specifics.”

You slowly sunk into the pillows and folded your arms over yourself. “And I just.. I missed 12 years. 12 years of my life. I've learned not to be bitter about it, no use to it. But sometimes I'll remember things about people I… I should have known better. Then Harry.” You whispered and covered her face.

Remus leaned forward and reached out to tilt your chin up, his touch gentle and comforting. His deep hazel eyes locked onto yours, filled with understanding and a hint of something more. Something so familiar. Something that once broke you down to your most basic form and shattered your heart. Something you hated to say you longed to see in his eyes again. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, a tension that had been building for some time now. Like the egg shells you walked on when it was just you two the first month were swept away.

“I know it must be overwhelming, to feel like you've missed out on so much,” Remus began, his voice low and soothing. “But you have a chance now, to make new memories, I don't think I've seen Harry so happy. He's reverted to a child, it's amazing to watch.” He chuckled. “And you're not alone in this, I'm here for you, always. Uhm..” He cleared his throat. “Sirius too.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you. Then the guilt sunk in at his last words. Quickly, you looked away from him and took your face from his hands. Right. The reminder of Sirius made your heart ache helplessly in your chest. You closed your eyes with a small sigh before looking back to Remus. The way he looked at you, with such intensity and care, made your heart race in a way you couldn't quite explain. A painful way. A way that showed just how badly you wanted him. 

Then, the words from the Shrieking Shack would ring in your ears.

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget my favorite of the furry bunch?” Remus’s words sunk into your mind easily. 

“She's yours?” Harry gasped.

“She's mine.” Sirius snapped back before he looked at Lupin. 

The guilt settled in quickly. If you were his, why did he act this way? Why did he push you away? Why did he act like you were nothing? Why didn't he give you the ring back?

You looked down at your fidgeting hands and Remus gave a low sigh through his nose. You met his eyes again and he gave you a strained smile, patting your knee. “It's alright.” He mumbled, before he could dismiss himself, the door suddenly rushed open.

“{Y/N}, darling, are you ready?” Sirius’s excitement was cut off when he saw you both. Remus’s hand on your lax knee and practically swallowing your form from where Sirius stood. Both boys clenched their jaws and you shooed Remus off, standing and turning to your wardrobe. “What is it, Sirius?”

“I uhm..” He gathered himself before he shook his head. “Harry, has been invited to the Weasley’s for the World Cup, seems they would like him to head there early.” 

The room was thick with tension and you cut through it as if it wasn't there. “I'll be right out. I have to change first.” You spoke to them without turning. Remus slapped his palm to his thigh and sat up. Nodding to Sirius as he passed him, but Sirius never moved.

You turned to him and arched your eyebrow, he crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway. “Its nothing I haven't acquainted myself with.” He mused nonchalantly, slowly smirking. “Intimately.”

This bloody bastard, what was he trying to prove here?

You gave a laugh turned scoff and lifted up your left hand, wiggling your ring finger. Sirius frowned and you glanced back at him again. “Out.”

You put on something light, simple for the heat. Your eye caught the snake ear clip the twins had gifted you years ago, looking around the red covered room before you slowly smiled and picked it up. The only Slytherin inspired gift you'd ever received, of course, the twins always saw the houses for what they were. It only made sense they would be the ones to admire that about you.

You and Sirius packed up the car, as Remus went over everything Harry needed to buy this year, making sure he had packed everything.

After a fair bit of goodbyes, you and Harry set off to the Weasley’s. Not after Sirius asking for the thirteenth time if he could tag along. During your ride to the Weasley’s, Harry managed to stay up the entire time. Talking to you about his morning venture into the town with Padfoot. 

~~~

When you finally made it to the burrow, it was midday. Molly and who you assumed to be Ginny were sitting outside the house, talking idly. You landed the car a bit away from the house, and from the corner of your eye, you spied how interested Harry seemed to be that the girl was coming to greet him.

Interesting development.

“Boys! Come help {Y/N} with her bags!” You heard Molly shrill and laughed, climbing out of the car and waving off Molly. 

“Me and Harry are plenty alright, Molly! It's just his bags for now!” You called over and she tutted, closing the distance between you two. The grass fields brushed against your calves and the sun was practically cooking your skin. Harry grabbed his bags and his owl himself and hurried over to Ginny.

“Harry, why don't you go greet Ron?” You hummed and he nodded, turning to Ginny who stuck her tongue out at him and ran inside. He laughed and hurried after her, making you smile. That was so familiar.

“Oh, now, {Y/N} dear, before you go inside I have some news for you.” Molly fussed as you both walked to the front door. You began to fan yourself with your hand and use your other to block the sun from your eyes.

“Oh please make it quick, it's bloody scorching out here.” You laughed and put your hands on your hips, leaning forward to squint at her. Both of you facing each other outside the cracked front door. 

“Well, we have company,” She started, her hands clasped together in front of her. “I don't expect him to be here so soon, honestly I forgot I lettered him, and he certainly didn't tell me he would be coming so soon.” She rambled on and you gave a nervous laugh.

“You have me worried here, Molly.” Before you could continue your thought, you felt something wet and cold against your ear and Molly’s face dropped. You snapped your head around and your eyes locked onto two beady black ones. A bloody Niffler. Pilfering your ear ring! 

“No! You put that down!” You shouted and tried to catch the weaseling little thing. It crawled down your entire body in a spiral motion before dashing inside. 

“You rotten rodent!” You shouted and ran inside after it, Molly’s cry for your attention falling on deaf ears. You were not going to lose one of your favorite pieces of jewelry to a damned backwards goose. “Get back here!”

You dashed across the house for it, knocking around tables and hitting your hips on protruding corners, before it wiggled its way into the kitchen with squeaks of distress. 

You were panting, coming up the the lively open kitchen, grabbing a chair back as you gathered yourself. “Who's ever.. bastard child that is.. I have a few words..” You wheezed, gesturing to the blurry figures in front of you. It seemed the full family was there, talking to someone you thought to be Arthur for a moment.

The murmuring settled down before you rubbed your eyes as spotted the little criminal. You gasped and pointed at it, as it crawled up the leg of the man. The small group, George, Fred, Ron, all stepped aside and watched as you gathered yourself.

Then you heard a laugh.

A laugh you knew better than the owner's voice.

Your face fell and your eyes raised to meet hazy brown ones. 

Gideon fucking Prewett.

You took the chance to take him in, still in shock. He was older now, had to be in his late forties, looked it too. His smile was fuller, his eyebrows bushy and his fiery red curls were long enough to frame his bearded face, with speckles of white. 

Broad shoulders, if you were allowed to say that, considering his left arm was completely gone, up to his shoulder. He just kept smiling at you, reaching back with his palm out for the Niffler to return it. “Don't steal from your name sake, Vix.” He tutted and you crumbled.

“Gideon-” Your voice broke and he opened his arm. You hurried over and wrapped your arms around his stomach. He chuckled and patted your back, returning the earring to your ear.

“I thought I lost ya, Niffler.” He whispered in your ear and you gave a watery laugh. 

“So you replaced me?” You jabbed and he laughed.

“Needed something to annoy me. You and Fabian…” You shook your head and hugged him tighter.

Molly entered the kitchen and smiled fondly at the reunion, before ushering her kids out. The twins complaining as they left. Molly and Gideon shared a nod before he nudged you softly. “So, I assume you have some questions.” He mumbled into your temple, and you nodded. 

“And me to answer them?” He chuckled and you nodded again. 

“Just.. just a little longer..”

~~~

You found yourself again, at the Weasley’s, having a conversation with a dear old friend.

You both set up in the kitchen, sitting at the table. You were fiddling with your finger and he gave you a patient and loving smile. It seemed he grew calmer as he aged. You could still see that spark of mischief in his eyes, but it was mellowed out, possibly drowned out by the excitement he had when he looked at you. 

Your eyes slowly fell to his arm and he gave a small chuckle. “Well, I guess it's time I tell you what's happened, hm?”

“That night, when you apperated?” 

He nodded and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I panicked when I heard Fabian scream. It broke my concentration. I was redirected home.”

~~~

The crackle of apparition snapped through the empty room. Not even the moon light slipped into the dark space, as it became more and more clear to him, he wasn't at the ministry. 

He heard thundering footsteps hurry up the stairs, he was growing foggy. The door slammed open and he slowly looked over, his eyes locking with Mary’s. She was smiling, holding up her status reports he had tasked her with before he left with his brother merely an hour ago.

Her face slowly fell as her eyes widened in horror at what she was faced with. Gideon Prewett, sprawled out across a broken desk, with a brutal twist to his arm that she could practically feel. Slowly, he grimaced and tried to stand up, only for all the pain the adrenaline had kept at bay to come rushing forward.

He let out a pained wail, much like his brother’s, and fell forward. His mind was still not clear, but he saw Mary. The only person he could protect at the moment. From what? He didn't know, but she was within reach. The sounds of papers falling to the ground and heels against his wooden floor filled his ears as Mary ran over to him and put her hand to his chest. Lifting him back up as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder. Clinging to her arm with a rough grip that made her wince. “Boss-”

“We need… we need ditany.” He spoke carefully and through his grinding molars. She quickly tried to pull away but his grip tightened on her. Suddenly, the idea of his own apprentice leaving him, with you and Fabian’s status unknown, was far more terrifying than he would like to admit. Mary looked at his hand and quickly looked around the office. She took her free hand and lifted her wand to the roof, commanding her patronus forward.

Her glowing brown bear manifested before her, as Mary felt her throat tighten as her eyes grew wet watching Gideon slipped in and out of consciousness. She had no choice, she knew, even with all the pain he had caused her in their youth, she couldn't lose her Prewett. “Take this message to Snape..”

Gideon slowly faded away, loosening his grip on her shoulder and falling limp against the shredded wood and scattered parchment, the last thing he could recall was her patronus running off into the curtained windows, the very blinds she soon opened when he lost his grip.

He woke up an hour later, in his bed. He winced, a muted and groggy pain filled him. The tense and rocking pain was something he was used to, his muscles tightening and his blood rushing, paired with a splitting and deep sting. Without that sting, he felt off, like the pain was just around the corner, waiting to bite back.

He could feel something in his hand. Gripping a bit tighter the numbing buzz was pushed aside and he was able to feel the familiar warmth of another hand in his own. He turned his head and blinked away his grogginess, seeing Mary staring at him with so much worry and care. He gave her the sweetest smile he could muster but it only worked to break what little resolve she had.

He rubbed his thumb over her smaller hand, and she leaned forward from her chair to press her head to his knuckles. Like she could process that he was alive, but the fear of losing him was so great that him smiling at her could only show her what would have been lost. 

“I'm alright, grizzly.” He croaked and she shook her head, sniffling as she dried her cheeks.

“Dumbledore went to retrieve them..” She whispered and he was snapped out of his mind and shoved back into reality. He tried to sit up, but his left arm didn't quite respond and with Mary clinging to his right hand he could only lay back. He looked across the room and noticed Snape’s slight wince and his drifting eyes. 

“What's happened?” Gideon commanded across the room and Severus avoided his eyes. He tried again to lift himself but Mary tightened her grip, pressing him closer as she began to cry. His face fell and a dread filled his chest.

“What's happened to them?” He croaked out, his turn to try and hold back a sob. He knew the moment Mary began to let her sobs wrack her body. The way she held his hand let him feel the warm tears that wet her face. He knew they were gone.

He let his head fall against the pillow and he stared up at the ceiling. He tried to stay stoic, only for his grip on Mary to once again tighten as he sniffled, letting out a sob, crying out. Mary quickly let go of his hand and looked down at him, only for him to wrap his arm around her back and pull her full weight against him. It was grounding and she was quick to hug him, letting him sob into her shoulder. 

She was all he had left and he didn't plan to leave her behind. 

~~~

“When I left for America, I took her with me.” Gideon mused and took a sip of his tea that Molly had hurried over to make. Your eyes widened and your jaw went slack. A million questions passed through your mind at once, but one took president over everything else.

“Mary? Mary is alive?” You pushed and he grimaced a bit. 

“She is. She sends her love but..” He rubbed his neck and bit his cheek, trying his best to gather himself. “This place, it's painful for her. Even with you home, she doesn't want to face this.” 

You nodded and furrowed your brow at your hands. Giving a low huff. “Not that I ever had the choice.”

“Given it, would you have come back?” He pushed. “She's built a life out there. I have too. You can't blame her for choosing her peace.”

You clicked your tongue before slowly nodding and leaning back in your seat. Trying to think back on everything you had been told, before you winced a bit. “Madeye. He said she was attacked, that they found her at our hideout.” 

“She was hurt. But alive.” He reassured and took a steady breath. “I was out of commision and Remus couldn't face it. Mary went to retrieve what she could from your safe house. Her clothes, her research, her gear. I had offered her Fabian's room until she could join me in America.”

You began to pick at your nails and slowly looked up. Your voice crackles a bit. “And?”

“Mulciber was there. Mary told me bits and pieces of what's happened but.. it seems she's blocked a lot of it out. Says it was similar to what happened back in her school years, she hardly managed to hold on. Then Remus found her and..” He sighed through his nose. “The boy was already rattled by what was going on, sent her to St. Mungos and then she came to live with me.” 

You nodded and closed your eyes. You remembered what had happened to Mary in your seventh year, you didn't happen to see it but you remembered the night terrors and the bits she told you in your shared dorm. You always thought it was unfair, Mary was such a sweet girl, quiet and reserved, but she was brave to a fault. When she told you she defended a first year muggle born you already knew it would end poorly. She was alone, she was scared, and what happened to her terrified you.

You were sure that night is what made her change her profession choice. She wanted to protect people, be able to protect herself if that ever happened again. She said she wanted to be strong, like you.

It made you wonder how differently she would see you if she knew the truth. Yes, you could fight, yes, you were strong, but that meant nothing if every time you were faced with significant danger you folded in on yourself. 

“Where have you gone?” Gideon called over to you and you snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry just.. a lot on my mind.” You admitted and looked down at your own tea cup. “Are you going back to America after this?”

“As much as I'm sure you'd love to get rid of me.” He mused and shooed his Niffler away from his spoon. “I am here to help with the tournament this year.” 

“Really?” You huffed with wide eyes, straightening your back. “Do they really need all three of us? I thought it was excessive that they wanted me to come along with Moody.” You huffed and he chuckled.

“Well, he's getting old.” Gideon mused. “Also said we'd be a great help to the defense against the dark arts class.” 

“You are an awful teacher.” You deadpanned and he gave a playfully horrified gasp. 

“Mary seemed to catch on quick.”

“Mary is as smart as a whip.” You challenged and he scoffed. You slowly found yourself smiling before you looked down again. “We should start heading there now. Don't want to give Moody any more of a reason to be upset with me.”

“Upset?” He parroted.

“Yeah… turns out, if you don't want to be on Moody's bad side, don't run off with a wanted criminal to confront a dead man.” You waved your hands about. “And definitely don't get caught with a lycanthrope on a full moon.”

You looked back up at Gideon after a moment of silence and couldn't help but laugh at his shocked and scandalized look. 

“You what!?”

You stood up and rang your hands together. “Do you have your bags? I'll tell you on the way to Hogwarts.”

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Cheer you on

Summary: Even the cheerleader needs someone to cheer them on.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: Wanda is kind of mean, i don’t know how cheer or football works

Word count: 4213

a/n: how do you write enemies to lovers trope without instantly making them friends?? This was supposed to be a series, but that obviously didn’t work out

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

“Maximoff, stay behind after class, please.” Ms Harkness, the chemistry teacher, stops Wanda as she steps inside the classroom. “I have something important to ask you.”

“Yes, Ms Harkness.” Wanda gives her a quick smile, walking over to her desk and takes out her textbook. It wasn’t uncommon for teachers to have a chat with her after class, she is one of the top students after all and pretty much adored amongst all the teachers. Although, she can’t help but feel nervous whenever they do so.

The class goes by quickly, they all do. Wanda has always liked school. She likes to learn nee things and considers herself to be quite good at it. She wouldn’t say she wasn’t like everyone else. Sure, she has never been the most popular kid in school, but she is happy with the friends she has. Being Pietro’s sister, who is on the football team, gives her a lot of opportunities to go to parties. And sometimes Wanda does go, but it’s not her main form of having fun.

“Maximoff!” Ms Harkness’ voice snaps her out if her thoughts. “Were you listening?”

“I am so sorry, Miss, just got lost in my mind. Could you repeat what you said?”

“Would you mind tutoring a student in chemistry? She’s a little behind and failed the last course, so, I suggested getting a tutor and she agreed.”

“Of course! I’d love to help out.” Wanda assures, it’ll look great on her college applications. “Can I ask who am I tutoring?”

“Y/N L/N.” Wanda’s smile drops at the mention of the girl’s name. “You know her, correct? You two have had some classes together.”

“Ah, hm.” Wanda clears her throat. “I know her.”

“Great! That’s settled then, can you start today?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’ll let her know and you two can meet up at the library after school. Thank you, Wanda.” Ms Harkness nods in gratitude and goodbye before going back to her stack of papers to work on.

Wanda blows air out of her mouth, silently cursing to herself for accepting the task before knowing who needed tutoring. She didn’t per se, hate her, she’d rather call it heavily disliking her.

Y/N is a rather popular cheerleader, pretty much everyone around school knows her. And Wanda isn’t a fan of popular people, except her brother. They didn’t necessarily do anything bad to her, but she doesn’t like fake people and she is 100% sure all the popular students are fake. Y/N being the fakest of them all.

Every time Wanda walks past her in the hallways, she is smiling and laughing while greeting practically everyone. No one can be that…good.

Wanda groans, she only has two more classes before the tutoring starts. She tries to remind herself that it’s for her own good as she goes to her next class.

The library is silent, more silent than normal, it doesn’t have a big use on after school hours, which makes it one of Wanda’s favorite places to spend her time.

She taps her pen against the table as she waits for Y/N to arrive. She already has her chemistry books and notebooks ready, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

Finally she hears a pair of boots enter the room. Sighing, Wanda sits up straighter just before Y/N walks over to the table. “Hi, Wanda!” She smiles brightly and sits opposite of her. “Sorry for being late, cheer practice ran a little long.”

“It’s okay.” Wanda mumbles. “Do you have your books?”

“Yeah.” Y/N takes out a few books, setting them to the table. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help me, I can’t afford to fail another class.”

“Maybe you should focus on them then.” Wanda comments, mostly to herself, not really intending for Y/N to hear, but she does.

“What?” Y/N giggles quietly, sounding quite uncomfortable. “I do focus, I’m just very busy.”

“Mhm.” Wanda opens her book. “Lets start from page ten. Which parts do you have problems with?”

“Uhm, I’m pretty aware of chapters from 11 to 16, others are mostly a blur.” Y/N

“Six chapters from a 25 chapter book?” Wanda cringes. “Can I ask you why did you take an advanced chemistry class if you weren’t going to put some effort to it?”

Y/N frowns, staring at Wanda. “If you don’t want to tutor me, you can say so.” She mumbles. Wanda sighs, rolling her eyes. “I only need a little help and if you aren’t willing to help me, I can find someone else.”

Wanda scoffs quite loudly. “I am very willing. I just don’t appreciate people who take partying and nonsense hobbies more seriously than studying. Advanced classes are hard to get into, if you weren’t going to actually do it, someone more deserving would’ve gotten the spot.” She throws her arms into the air as she ends her rant.

“Right.” Y/N whispers, closing her book. “I stayed behind because of personal emergencies. I was very unwell and couldn’t get out of bed in the mornings. Ms Harkness was understanding enough to give me an opportunity to retake the test and ask someone to tutor me.” She shoves the books to her bag. “But I suppose some people don’t have the same empathy skills as her.”

Wanda stares at Y/N wide eyed. “I-“

“I’ll tell Ms Harkness we had some schedule problems because of my nonsense hobbies and continuous partying, so you don’t have to continue tutoring me.” Y/N stands up. “Bye then, I guess.”

“Wait!” Wanda stands up, but Y/N takes her bag and walks out of the library, leaving very conflicted Wanda behind.

Wanda uses the fork on her hand to repeatedly stab the very dry looking food on the plate, leaning her head on her palm. After using all of her morning and afternoon breaks to look for Y/N with no luck, she decided to give up and head to the canteen to eat with Natasha.

“Wanda.” The redhead pushes her shoulder so she’d pay attention to her. “Where’s your mind at?”

“Y/N.” She mumbles quietly.

Natasha sighs. “Listen, yes, you were unfairly mean to her, but I doubt she’s mad at you. You just have to apologize.”

“I would if I could find her.” Wanda slams her fork to the tray. “And I’m not upset because I got her mad, I’m upset because she looked so hurt when she left.” She turns to face Natasha. “And I don’t want to be the reason why she didn’t come to school.”

“I know. If you want to, I can ask Yelena for her number so you could text her.”

“No! Absolutely not, I don’t want to be a creep.”

“You wouldn’t be a creep, it’s normal to ask for someone’s number.” Natasha shoves food inside her mouth. “Besides, she’s my sister.”

“I want to apologize face to face.” Wanda comments. “Anyways,” she changes the subject, “talking about your sister, she has been glaring at me the whole day.”

“She’s just very protective of her friends, no need to worry.”

“I feel like she’ll murder me when I’m the least prepared.”

Natasha snorts at the comment. Truth to be told, she wouldn’t be surprised if her sister decided to kill someone for disrespecting her loved ones. Yelena and Y/N have been best friends since diapers as they were born close to each other. Just like Wanda and Natasha, who were born a year before the two.

Wanda gasps. “There she is!” She whisper yells, nudging Natasha harshly. She points towards Y/N walking towards a full table of people in her cheer suit.

“Well, go on then.”

“She’s leaving.”

“I think she has cheer practice.” Natasha watches Y/N and Yelena walk outside together. “You should talk to her before it starts.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” Wanda stands up, jogging to the hallway after the two friends. “Y/N! Wait up.” Y/N and Yelena stop, turning around to see Wanda right behind them. “Can I talk to you? Alone?” She glances at Yelena.

“Uhh, sure.” Y/N smiles to Yelena who looks rather annoyed. “I’ll see you outside, don’t start practice without me.” Yelena nods as Y/N and Wanda walk inside an empty classroom. “What’s up?”

“I just really wanted to apologize, for yesterday. It wasn’t nice of me to assume why you failed the class or what you do on your free time.”

“It really wasn’t.” Y/N comments. “But it’s okay, I forgive you.”

“Great!” Wanda smiles widely. “So, we’ll continue the tutoring?”

“Ah, no. I already got Tony to help me.”

“Tony Stark?” Wanda frowns. Sure, Stark is smart, but nowhere near Wanda’s level. “Isn’t he like a really big douche.”

“Okay then.” Mumbling, Y/N purses her lips together. “Bye, Wanda.”

“No! Wait-“ Y/N ignores her calls after her and walks outside to her cheer practice. Wanda groans, dragging herself back to the table where Natasha is waiting for her. “Is Y/N friends with Tony Stark?”

“I think they’re like family friends.”

“Fuck.” Wanda slams her forehead to the table. “I just called him a douche in front of her.”

Natasha laughs. “You really just want her to hate you, huh?”

“Obviously not!” She doesn’t know why Y/N’s disappointed face is making her feel so bad, but she doesn’t like it at all. The feeling is gnawing her insides. “Do you think she’ll forgive me a second time?”

Natasha shrugs her shoulders, shoving food to her mouth. “I’m sure she isn’t that offended.”

“She looked like it.”

“Why do you care, Wanda?” Natasha furrows her brows together. She has never been one to worry about how others see her, so this kind of excessive overthinking was very unusual for her.

“I don’t want her to think badly of me.”

“But you can think badly about her.”

Wanda raises her head. “No! I don’t- it’s not like that.” Natasha stares at her with a questioning look. “I don’t think badly about her.”

“Within a day, you’ve entirely turned around what you think of her?” Wanda nods slowly, making Natasha sigh. “Did you ever even dislike her? It always seemed like you like liked her, but didn’t think she’d like you back.”

“What?” Wanda laughs. “No.” Natasha mumbles a quiet okay and goes back to her lunch, but Wanda continues staring at her, not getting the thought out of her head. She didn’t like Y/N. Sure, she doesn’t dislike her anymore, but she’d never like someone like her.

Right?

“What happened with Wanda Maximoff?” Yelena asks as Y/N is stretching and getting ready for cheer.

“She apologized and then she called Tony a douche.”

“Isn’t he?”

“I mean, yeah.” Y/N changes her position. “But it just made it look like she wasn’t really apologetic, you know.”

“Yea.” Yelena sits on the benches. She doesn’t cheer, but she’s always watching Y/N. She likes supporting her best friend, and they’re dorm mates, so they always walk back to their dorm together. “She’s weird.”

Humming, Y/N jogs small circles. “I don’t know. I think she just doesn’t like people. Or me, specifically.”

“The offer to beat her up still stands.”

“No, Lena.” Y/N giggles. “You aren’t beating anyone up, though I appreciate the offer.” Yelena mumbles something incoherent, she was really hoping to beat someone up. “You don’t have to wait for me every time, you know?”

“I know, but I want to. I like watching you cheer.”

Y/N grins at her. “You’re going soft.”

“Only for you.”

With a laugh, Y/N goes to the field as the captain arrives and calls them around her. They have been practicing a cheer routine for the football game for a while now, but it still needs time to be perfect.

Y/N, a flyer, gets ready to be lifted off the ground. Her hands are waiting steadily on two people’s shoulders. When the time comes, she jumps onto their hands and gets lifted to the air. There she does her tricks along with the other flyers of her group. At the final flip, one of the bases looses their footing, causing Y/N to come crashing to the ground.

The music stops and the group gathers around her. Yelena runs to her through the other cheerleaders, kneeling down next to her. “You okay? Where does it hurt?”

Y/N coughs, gathering the oxygen back to her lungs. She groans. “I’m fine.” Mumbling, she takes Yelena’s hand and gets up. Her leg is unable to take any weight and she’s leaning to Yelena heavily.

“I’m gonna take you to the nurse’s office.” Slowly but surely they make their way towards the office. Yelena is keeping her arm around Y/N’s waist, holding most of her weight so she wouldn’t have to use the hurt leg. “I’m gonna beat up the base.”

Y/N lets out an airy laugh. “It was an accident. These kind of things happen in cheer.”

“They shouldn’t happen to you.” Yelena mumbles as she knocks on the door. The two hobble in when the nurse comes to open the door.

Yelena helps Y/N to sit down. “What happened?” The nurse sits down to a chair of her own.

“Cheer accident.” Y/N moves her leg slightly, cringing at the pain shooting up her body. “My leg hurts a bit.”

“She can’t put any weight on it, and her back hurts.” Yelena comments. She’s standing right next to Y/N.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N lets the nurse examine her leg and back. Yelena has been overbearingly protective ever since they became friends, but Y/N is okay with that. That’s how she shows her love, by caring and protecting.

“It’s not broken, so that’s good.” The nurse writes something on the computer. “But you definitely can’t cheer for a while.”

“What? For how long?”

“Lets start with three to six weeks and see where we go from there.”

Y/N sighs, not happy with the news. The football game isn’t too far away, so she really needs to be practicing the routine for it. “I really can’t wait that long. Isn’t there any way we could speed the healing?”

“Not really.” The nurse sighs, taking out an ice pack and a pair of crutches. “Hold this to your leg. You two can go home.”

With a frown on her face, Y/N takes the ice pack and crutches, leaving the office with Yelena’s help.

The next day, to Y/N’s luck, Yelena became sick. Which meant walking, or limping would be more describing, through the school halls alone. Even though she has a lot of friends, she mostly spends her days with Yelena, that’s her best friend since diapers after all.

With a quiet grunt, she opens the cafeteria door, holding both of her crutches in one hand. After getting through them, she starts moving towards the line, trying to come up with a way how she’s going to carry her tray.

While waiting in line, she feels someone tap her shoulder. She turns around and sees Wanda. “What happened?” Wanda nods towards the crutches.

“Cheer accident.”

“Do you need help? Where’s Yelena? You could sit with me and Natasha if you want.”

Y/N’s eyes widen from the word vomit that just came out of Wanda’s mouth. It was almost too quick to understand. “Yelena is sick, so yes, I might need a bit of help.”

“Great,” Wanda steps next to Y/N in line. “I’ll help. I already got my food.” Y/N nods with a tight lipped smile. “I’m really sorry, again. For yesterday, saying Tony is a douche, I’m sure he actually isn’t.”

“Oh, he is.” Y/N comments and leaves it at that.

Wanda hums, staying quiet. Their turn comes quickly. Wanda picks up a tray, plate, glass and cutleries for Y/N, moving the tray as they do. She puts the food Y/N wants on the plate and fills the glass with water. After that, they start walking towards the table Natasha is sitting at. It’s quite slow, as Wanda follows Y/N’s speed.

“Hi.” Natasha grins at the two. “Did you get enough of cheering yet?”

“Of course not.” Y/N sits down carefully, setting the crutches to lay against an empty chair. “It’s still my biggest love.”

“Seems like a toxic relationship you two got going in.”

Y/N laughs. She’s fairly close with Natasha too, as she is Yelena’s sister and she has spent a great amount of time at their house. “I’m sure you already know Yelena is sick.”

“Oh, yeah.” Natasha scoffs with a shake of her head. “I have gotten so many whiny texts about it.”

Wanda tries to laugh along the two, feeling bit like an outsider at the moment. She wants to be closer to Y/N, though she isn’t sure where this sudden want came from. Or she just doesn’t want to accept it yet.

“Are you allowed to cheer at the football game?” She asks, wanting to be a part of the conversation.

“Uhm, I hope so. It depends on how fast I’ll heal.”

“Well, I really hope you get to cheer.” Wanda smiles widely.

Natasha smirks at the interaction. It’s so obvious to her, but she doesn’t want to pressure Wanda about anything she’s not ready to accept yet.

The conversation steers back to Natasha and Y/N talking about their shared things, while Wanda decides to spend the rest of lunch staring at Y/N.

After four weeks, Y/N can finally stop using the crutches and get back into practicing their cheer routine, which she needs to learn very quickly, as the big game is in a week. It’s Y/N’s school versus their biggest rival school. The schools have fought each other since the beginning of time, and they still haven’t quiet figured out which school is the best one. And neither one is happy with a tie, so they have to put their best game face on. And the pressure isn’t only on the football players, it’s also on the cheerleaders.

During those weeks, especially the time Yelena was sick, Y/N and Wanda grew closer. Wanda decided to throw out all of her previous impressions of Y/N and just get to know her, just like Natasha asked her to do many times before. She realized Y/N isn’t actually anything like she thought, which opened the feelings she had hidden a long time ago.

“Have you done this every night after you got your crutches taken off?” Wanda asks as she sits on the bleachers, watching Y/N practice the cheer routine on her own.

“Yes.” Y/N pants slightly. She has gone through the routine four times now. “I have to do it perfectly on the game night.”

Wanda rubs her hands together, starting to feel chilly. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“You don’t have to wait, you know? Even Yelena refuses to stay here so late.” She does a few tricks on the ground that she’s supposed to do in the air.

“I want to stay.”

A small smile grows on Y/N’s lips, but she hides it by continuing the routine. For a while, the music, coming from Y/N’s phone, for the routine is the only noise. No other student is out this late on school grounds, they’re either partying or in their dorms.

“Are you sure you aren’t getting too cold? You shouldn’t risk getting sick before the game.”

“I’m alright, Wanda.” Y/N takes a break, drinking some water. “I’m moving constantly.”

“Yeah, but when you move, you start to sweat and when you’re sweaty, you get cold easier.”

Giggling, Y/N drops the water bottle back to the ground, starting the music over again. “I know how it works, Wanda.” She goes back to her spot and starts the routine all over before Wanda can answer. “I’ll stop after this one.”

The routine is two minutes and 30 seconds long, but it feels shorter from both of their points of view. Y/N loves performing and Wanda likes to watch her perform.

Doing the final step, Wanda starts clapping at her. “Amazing!” She smiles, making Y/N laugh.

Y/N stops the music and picks up her things before walking over to Wanda. “Thanks for staying, you didn’t have to.” She starts shivering as the cold wind picks up.

“I told you, you would get cold.” Wanda mumbles, taking off of her jacket and putting it over Y/N’s shoulders, ignoring her protests. “I have a hoodie on, you have a small cheer uniform.” At the word small, Wanda’s eyes drop down to go over the whole outfit. Her cheeks flush the minute she realizes, but she lets out a breath of relief when she notices Y/N isn’t looking her way.

“Yeah, yeah.” They start walking towards the dorm buildings. Their dorms aren’t in the same building, but they’re close by, so it’s easy to walk there together.

“Hey, I’m glad you gave me a chance by the way.” Wanda huffs a breath of air out of her nose. “And I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“So am I.” Y/N bumps her side against Wanda’s, giving her a cheery smile.

The closer they get to their building, the more nervous Wanda gets. She waits until the moment they have to split up to speak up. “Would you, maybe, go out with me?”

“Like, on a date?” Y/N and Wanda stop walking.

“Yeah.”

Y/N gives her a small smile. “Ask me again after the game, yeah?” When Wanda nods, Y/N starts taking off the jacket, but Wanda stops her.

“Keep it until then.”

“Okay.” Y/N giggles, kisses Wanda’s cheek and starts walking towards her dorm building.

Y/N cheers the football team on with the other cheerleaders. They’re standing on the side, jumping up and down while waving their pom poms around. Half time is starting any second now, so her nerves are through the roof. She has performed in front of people many times before, but she has never been injured right before a show.

She glances at the clock. Three.. Two.. One. The loud buzzer sounds the half time is now. The group cheers loudly, getting the viewers spirits high, before running to the middle of the field. They go straight into formation, waiting for the music.

The music starts and they go straight into the routine. Y/N has a wide smile on her face as she get to occasionally glance the bleachers more clearly. If possible, her smiles widens even more when she hear and sees Wanda, Yelena and Natasha cheering her on.

She goes to her place, grabs the bases’ shoulders and gets into the air smoothly. Everything goes through perfectly and no one gets injured.

After the routine stops, Y/N runs back to the sidelines with a victorious smile on her face. She waves at her friends before turning back to supporting the football team on their second half of the game.

As the last seconds ti k away on the clock, everyone is on the edge of their seat. The score is tied, but there’s still time to score. One of the players on Y/N’s school is kicking the ball forward while running full speed ahead and trying to dodge the opponents.

Seeing there’s only under ten seconds left on the clock, the player kicks the ball with all their might and it goals just before the buzzer goes off. Everyone jumps up and shouts in happiness. Another win for their school.

Y/N runs towards Wanda, Yelena and Natasha, who already got away from the bleachers. None of them were really that interested in football, they mostly came to support Y/N. They cheer when they see her coming their way.

“Great job! You did so well!” Yelena yells as Y/N smashes herself into her.

“Thank you!” Her voice comes out muffled because of Yelena’s puffy jacket. “Thank you for coming, you guys.” She grins, hugging Natasha next.

“We wouldn’t have missed it.”

She laughs and turns to Wanda, hugging her just a bit longer than the other two. “Wait for me to get my things? Then we can leave.” Y/N runs off to get her bag and Wanda’s jacket, which she decides to put on. It is autumn after all.

The four of them start walking away from the celebration, they’ll have one of their own in a diner. Although, they will join the other students at a house party later in the evening.

Wanda grabs Y/N’s hand into her own as they’re walking towards the diner. She leans in closer. “Go out with me?” She whispers so the sister duo wouldn’t hear.

“Like a date?” Y/N asks with a grin.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll go out with you.”

Wanda’s cheeks turn red and her smile grows from the answer. “Thank you.” Y/N giggles at her shyness, leaning against Wanda’s side, she tunes into whatever conversation Yelena and Natasha are having, while Wanda continues smiling.

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part VI

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

STORY PAGE

“Hey, gorgeous! How are you? I’ve been so worried about you!” John exclaimed enthusiastically into the phone.

“I’m pretty good, actually. How are things at Zelda’s?” While you didn’t necessarily want to know the answer, you’d always considered John a friend and knew he had your back. Which was why you decided to give him a call.

“Oh girl, things have changed dramatically since you left!”

“Really?”

“Yes! We got a new manager. His name is Rafael, but we’re allowed to call him Rafi. He’s a dish and a half, let me tell you! Not like that last asshole.”

You chuckled. “Good, I’m glad for you.”

“Yeah, sucks for you though! If only you could have stayed. Hey, want me to put a good in for you with Rafi?”

“Um…no, that’s okay, John. I’m kind of happy where I am.”

“Seriously? Where’s that?”

You told your friend about working at the cafe. Then proceeded to tell him how Harry got you the job.

“To make a long story short,” you said, trying to do just that, “he’s not the jerk he appeared to be. And…well…now we’re dating.”

“Hold up! Stop right there. Rewind! I need to hear everything, Y/N! EVERYTHING!”

You laughed at the way John enunciated every syllable. And you’d expected as much. For the next hour, you went into every detail with him like he requested (at least as much as you were willing to divulge), and by the time you finished, it was time to get ready for your date with Harry.

“Oh my God, girl, that’s so crazy!” squealed John. “But I’m happy for you. If you’re happy.”

“I am.”

“Good. Just don’t forget about me, okay? Pop in some time, maybe with Handsome.”

“I will,” you promised.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a stylish top, you brushed your hair and touched up your makeup. You were meeting Harry at his place, where he was making you dinner again, and then you were going to a movie. It seemed to be the first Saturday you were both off since you’d met. And you were looking forward to having a normal, mundane date night.

The last couple weeks had been both hectic and amazing. Since that evening at the gallery, Harry had been extremely busy finishing up his moon series paintings. Donovan McNulty had still been showing interest in Harry’s art, and specifically voiced that he wanted to know the minute his newest pieces would be available. And you’d been picking up extra shifts at the diner to make a little extra money. But any moment you were both free had been spent together. You took turns, rotating your visits at each others’ apartments. You enjoyed leaning against his kitchen counter while you watched him cook, and Harry enjoyed teasing Shae when she was around, and nibbling on the soft spot behind your ear as you watched TV when she wasn’t there - and sometimes when she was.

Your feelings for him were growing daily, and while you told yourself it was still too soon to have such feelings, you used your free time away from him to write them down. You expressed every emotion from the way your heart skipped when you’d see him sitting in his usual chair at the cafe, to the way your body ached for him as you laid in your bed staring at the ceiling. You even included the way it had felt when you’d seen Nicolette at the cafe and at the gallery, even though Harry assured you tenfold that he had broken off all contact with her. You didn’t want to be jealous of his ex. You knew deep down that it would not bode well if you were going to take this relationship to the next level. And you definitely wanted to.

Harry greeted you with a smile as he opened the door, a glass of wine already in his hand waiting for you. When you stepped inside, you gave him a quick kiss before accepting the glass and taking a sip.

“Mmm, something smells yummy!,” you commented, turning for the kitchen.

“Chicken Piccata with roasted radicchio and sweet potatoes,” Harry announced proudly as he followed you. “It’s almost ready.”

“Chef Styles, when are you opening your own restaurant? This is way too impressive for just me.”

“You’re the only one I care to impress,” he said, pushing your hair from your neck to softly brush his lips across your tender flesh.

You reached behind you for his hands, bringing his arms around your waist. He hummed against your skin as he gave you a squeeze. The timer on the oven sounded then with a friendly chime, and Harry hesitantly released you in order to remove its contents. Watching him serve up the meal, you joined him at the table with your wine.

“I have some news,” he announced after you’d taken your first bite and raved about its deliciousness.

“Oh? What is it?” you asked enthusiastically.

“I’m having another gallery showing. For the moon series.” Harry stabbed his fork into his chicken before lifting his eyes to you.

“Are you kidding? That was quick!”

“Well, yeah,” he grinned. “I brought them yesterday for Sherrod to see. Apparently he phoned McNulty, gave him some rubbish about how brilliant they are, and he’s flying down Thursday to see for himself.”

Quickly dismissing the fact that he’d degraded his own art, because you knew he didn’t really think it was rubbish, you focused on the positive.

“Oh my God, Harry! That’s wonderful! I’m really proud of you.”

“I know, babe. And I appreciate all the support you’ve given me. You'll never know how much.”

“I have an idea,” you jested. “You spoil me with this delicious food.”

“That’s just because I can,” he winked. “And because I want to. It’s not a payment.”

“Good to know,” you said before popping a bite of sweet potato in your mouth.

“I would like your help with something, though.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Could you help spread the word about the exhibit?” Harry requested. “Maybe invite some friends? The more the better. The cocktail party was nice, but I’d like it to be a massive event.”

“Ooh, yes! I’d love to!”

Rising from your chair, you reached over the table to plant a kiss on Harry’s lips, to which he happily accepted.

“When would you like to get your tattoo?” Harry asked as you laid twisted in the sheets, his bare thigh crossed over yours, his fingertips tracing nonexistent lines down your arm.

You turned your head to the side to look at him. If it was possible, he appeared even more beautiful than ever, his eyelids heavy, his pillowy lips swollen, his scruffy jaw threatening to produce more facial hair now that the morning was nigh. The evening of lovemaking had been blissful, Harry having brought you to orgasm not once, not twice…but three times. And while you worried you’d never walk again, the man beside you looked completely fucked.

You couldn’t help but be elated by the knowledge that you’d made that happen.

“I’m not sure yet,” you whispered, reaching for his stubbly chin. “Soon, I guess.”

You felt Harry breathe out of his nose, and while he tried to hide it, you could detect the frown on his lips.

“Do you not want it?” he inquired after a beat.

“I…no, I do,” you nodded.

“‘Cause you don’t have to get it,” Harry added. “The one I designed, or any other one. If you don’t want a tattoo, it’s fine. I’ll understand.”

“No, I want one.”

Harry continued to draw his finger down your arm. You could tell the conversation wasn’t over, but you were unsure what else to say. So you let Harry gather his thoughts instead. Finally he sighed, his gaze returning to your face.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” you asked.

“If I made you uncomfortable. It just dawned on me that I might have been a bit presumptuous with the tattoo. I know they can be very personal, and I…I should have just let you pick what you want.”

Blinking, you rolled over onto your side to face him. “Harry, no. That’s not it at all. I love the one you designed. I told you I loved that painting.”

“Then what is it?” Harry lifted a hand to brush your hair from your face, twisting the end of the strands between his fingers. “Any time I bring it up, you kind of hesitate or change the subject.”

“I…I didn’t realize,” you looked down at his chest. “I apologize.”

“Baby, look at me,” he insisted, urging your chin up. “Talk to me. Are you af-”

You stopped him mid-sentence with your finger on his lips. As you shook your head, Harry chuckled. Then tugging on your wrist, he released your hand from his mouth.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” he remarked.

“Just don’t use that word.”

“Alright,” he softened his expression, returning his fingers to your hair. “Am I moving too fast for you? Is that it?”

You gulped and sucked in your lips. Then you let out a nervous chuckle of your own. “It seems ridiculous to admit that after what we just did.”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head. “Sex can be separate from feelings. Although…I’m going to confess right now…for me…it’s not. Not with you.”

“Harry…” you breathed.

“Babe…” he murmured, pulling you closer. “I reckon I’ve conveyed my feelings for you already…at least a little bit. But if you need me to back off…I will.”

You stared at him, this gorgeous man. You couldn’t believe in just a few weeks you’d gone from hating him to…whatever this was.

“No,” you argued. “I don’t want you to.”

“No?”

“No, because…I’m feeling…things too.”

Harry’s voluptuous mouth curved into a sexy grin. You felt his hand on your back, his fingers dancing up your flesh.

“I’m just…a little hesitant, I guess,” you added, “about getting the tattoo…because it’s such an intimate thing to do, you know? To get ink on my skin of something you gave me, art you designed for me. And it’s…forever.”

Harry blinked slowly with a nod. “I completely understand, love. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just me. Like you said, it’s personal. And I would feel horrible if something happened between us, and-”

“Shh, baby…” Harry interrupted you this time. “It’s okay. I get it. Take all the time you need.”

You gave him a gentle smile before he pulled you into a deep kiss. Your eyelids heavy, and sleep threatening to take over, you tugged on the sheets. Getting the hint, Harry grinned, situating the covers over you before reaching for the lamp.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

You hummed in agreement as he held you against his warm body, and before you could even think any more about tattoos, you were sound asleep in his arms.

The rest of Sunday and most of Monday was spent making phone calls. You promised Harry a grand party, and you were determined to deliver. After telling Shae your plan, she was more than happy to come through by offering to tell her coworkers as well as some of your mutual friends. You called John to let him know as well, and he said he was already going to ask for the night off, and maybe even bring Rafi with him…if he was available, as he put it. You also called the gallery Monday morning, unbeknownst to Harry, to speak with Sherrod yourself. He told you how excited he was for Harry’s new exhibit, which put your mind at ease a bit.

“I really want this to be special for him,” you explained. “Is there anything I can do to help? To get the word out? More advertising? Do I need to hire a caterer or something?”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, darling,” assured Sherrod. “I’m already having my secretary making contacts as we speak. And I personally phoned my caterer on Friday.”

“Oh, fantastic,” you said. “The more people we can get to come, the better. There’s just one thing…”

“Don’t worry about that either, my pet. You have my word Miss Waters will not get an invite.”

“Ohh. For some reason I thought…” you chuckled nervously. “I don’t know how art galleries work, forgive me.”

Sherrod laughed heartily through the phone, catching you off guard. “Nothing to forgive, darling. Harry and I have already spoken about this as well.”

You breathed through your nose. Of course they had.

“Thank you, Sherrod. I appreciate everything.”

“It’s going to be a splendid night, you can be sure!”

Hanging up, you felt a heavy weight lift off your chest. It was quickly replaced with a glittery excitement. You couldn’t wait.

When you arrived for your mid-day shift at the cafe, you made a beeline for Jill who was making a cold brew for a customer. The look on her face when you told her the news about Harry’s exhibit was priceless.

“Of course I’ll be there!” she squealed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bring some friends too, okay? I want to show him all the support we can give.”

That night, you sat in front of the TV writing in your journal. You soon found yourself mindlessly doodling in the corners of the page. Harry was at work, and you didn’t want to bother him. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He truly had been the only thing on your mind all day.

“Pppfff, more like for the last month,” you admitted out loud.

Tossing your notebook to the side, you leaned back on the couch and ran your fingers through your hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Jesus Christ, what am I doing?”

Getting up from the sofa, you slipped on your shoes, not bothering to change out of your lounge-at-home outfit - a dark green tunic and black leggings. The only effort you made was to brush your teeth and touch up your lip gloss before heading out the door.

The neon sign in the window seemed to glow brighter than you remembered, an enticing greeting to lure you in. Not that you hadn’t already planned to go inside.

Swinging the door open, you noticed an empty waiting area and counter. Smooth, instrumental jazz played through the speakers as you peeked your head through the doorway to scan the tattoo stations, but still saw no one. You were just about to walk through the shop to Harry’s office when you saw Kyle emerge.

“Oh, hey,” he grinned. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, happy that he knew. Surely he didn’t remember you from the last time he’d seen you in the shop, but perhaps Harry had told him about you and he put two and two together. The idea made you blush a little.

“Harry’s in the back. I’ll go get him for you.”

Before you could retort, Kyle disappeared through the doorway from which he’d just appeared. And within seconds, your handsome, cheery boyfriend replaced him.

“Hi, babe!” he beamed. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, shyly. “Came to get my tattoo.”

His eyes widening, Harry stepped closer to you. “Really? Are you sure?”

Licking your lips, you nodded. “Positive.”

His dimples on full display, Harry pulled you into an embrace. You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he whispered in your ear. “I’m so happy.”

Then stepping back, Harry gestured toward his station. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll get everything ready and tell Kyle he can go home.”

“Oh!” you mouthed, surprised. Harry disappeared into the back room again before you could argue.

Situating yourself in Harry’s chair, you gazed at the art on display around his station as well as photos of various clients’ tats. While a few pieces looked to be fairly common, most of them were exquisite, no doubt one-of-a-kind works of art. You were staring at a large dragon piece on someone’s back when you heard a voice behind you.

“Bye, Y/N,” Kyle called. “Have a nice night.”

“Oh, thanks. Same to you,” you waved just as Harry walked up.

“You didn’t have to make him leave,” you said under your breath. “You’re not closed yet, are you?”

“I am now,” Harry wiggled his brows before walking to the front door and locking it, turning the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side.

With pursed lips, you tried to hold back a smirk as Harry returned, his own smirk tugging on his mouth.

“Slow night?” you inquired when he sat down on his stool.

“You would not believe. That’s why we were in my office. Kyle helps me with my website.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you watched Harry get his tray ready just like he had the day you’d brought Shae. That already felt like a lifetime ago.

“You always surprise me with your music choices,” you commented as you listened to the soft jazz.

Harry chuckled with a nod. “This is my focus, slash wind-down music. Since it was slow, I switched it from grunge whilst we worked on the website.”

“I like it,” you grinned.

Harry gazed up at you from under his lashes before his eyes roamed down your body. You felt a tingle as his gaze made its way back up to your face.

“What?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Was just recalling the last time you were sat in this chair.”

“Oh my God, Harry,” you blushed. “Please tell me you sanitized it!”

His eyes squinting as he giggled, Harry scooted closer to you. “You’re too much, babe.”

“Why, because I like cleanliness?”

“No, because that’s your first thought. It certainly wasn’t mine.”

You stared into his jade eyes that were now inches from your face, the irises appearing to have a dark line around them.

“That was…um, some kind of night,” you murmured softly.

“Indeed, it was.” Harry’s hand landed just above your knee then before he slid it slowly up your thigh.

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Are you trying to seduce me again?”

Harry puffed out a chuckle. “No. Don’t reckon I had to try then either.”

Dragging your tongue across your teeth, you focused on his mouth and the way his hand felt on your leg. “Fair enough. What do you remember most about that night?”

“How sweet your pussy tasted on my tongue,” he quickly replied, as if he’d had his answer ready before you’d even asked the question. “And how you tugged on my hair and your thighs trembled as you called my name.”

“Harry…”

“Oh, it was much louder than that.”

You blushed again, but this time you didn’t bother hiding it. Leaning towards you, Harry placed a soft kiss on your lips. Followed by a second, and a third. By the fourth, your fingers were in his hair, his tongue in your mouth. You reveled in the sensation, urging him with your own. When a gentle moan escaped your chest, Harry’s hand that had been on your thigh made its way between your legs. You began to grind against him in your seat, knowing your leggings and panties were already soaked through. His other hand traveled underneath your t-shirt, and when his fingers met your bare skin, you gasped.

“Are you…,” you gulped, “planning to eat me out again on this chair?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Oh.”

“I have other things in mind,” he added, echoing the exact words he’d said to you that night before taking you home.

“Oh…”

Harry sat back on his stool and raised a brow. “I thought you wanted a tattoo, love.”

“Harry Styles! Are you teasing me?” you exclaimed.

Giggling with glee, you noticed his eyes dancing. “Maybe.”

“Rude!” you frowned, tugging your shirt down. Your pussy still throbbing from his hand, you pouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s my fault. Seeing you in this chair…it turned me on, and I got carried away. I do want to play. But I think we should get started on this tattoo, don’t you? It’s gonna take a bit.”

You nodded with a sigh. “Okay.”

Harry gave you a peck on the nose and one on the lips. “Now, did you decide where you want it? The ink, I mean,” he smirked.

“So, I had considered getting it on my side, like down my hip. There’s plenty of room to make it big. But then I changed my mind.”

“Too much?” Harry asked.

“Nope. Not enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobody’s gonna see it there. Except you. And while the idea is sexy, I’d rather have the art my boyfriend designed to be in a spot everyone could see.”

“Baby…” Harry breathed, his hand over his heart.

“I know, I’ve been hesitant about this,” you explained. “About us. But I have no clue why. We’ve spent all this time together. You’ve shown me time again that you’re interested in more than just…a fling. Every time I’m with you, I feel butterflies and moonbeams and…all the cheesy things.” You let out a nervous sigh as you looked down at your hands, then back up to his gorgeous face. “The truth is…I’m crazy about you, Harry.”

“Sweetheart,” he cried, pulling you into another kiss. Then leaning his forehead against yours he murmured, “You make me so happy.”

“Good,” you grinned, your right hand on his cheek as you held out your left. “That’s why I think we should put it right here, below my elbow, down the inside of my arm.”

“I think that would be lovely,” he agreed, misty-eyed. Then he kissed the inside of your wrist before rising from his stool. “Let me go get the stencil, and I’ll be right back.”

When he stepped away, you suddenly felt butterflies in your tummy, and not just from the notion of getting a tattoo. You’d almost told him more than you’d planned. The truth was, you weren’t just crazy about him. You were falling for him. Hard. Perhaps you had been falling bit by bit every day. And you were finally willing to admit it to yourself. But you weren’t quite sure yet if you were ready to say it to him. It still felt too soon. But you loved the look on his face when you’d revealed what you had. His delight gave you hope that perhaps he felt the same.

Harry returned with a big smile on his face. Placing the stencil next to him, he pulled on his gloves. Then reaching for the rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad, he eyed you.

“Still wanna do this?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you beamed.

Taking your arm, he gently rubbed the soaked cotton pad down your arm, from the elbow to your wrist. Then he took a new disposable razor and gently shaved the area, just like you’d seen him do on Shae, back when you still hated him. The idea brought a sour taste to your mouth.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah, sorry. Was just…thinking.”

“About?” Harry raised a brow.

“How far we’ve come in just a short time.”

Harry’s face softened. “I think about that a lot.”

“You do?”

“I thank my lucky stars every fucking day that you forgave me. That you were able to see the real me and change your mind. I only wish…”

“What?” you asked.

His gaze seemed to burn into you as he looked deep into your eyes. “I wish we had met some other way. Like some random day at the cafe, or maybe here when you’d come with Shae. Or maybe even at Zelda’s on a night I was alone. Some other way that you could have met the real me instead of that prick I pretended to be.”

You sat in silence as you absorbed Harry’s words and watched him place the thermal paper on your arm with the stencil. When he peeled it off was when you spoke.

“What would you have said?”

“When?”

“If we had met in a different situation. What would you have said to me?”

“In which scenario?” he smirked.

“Let’s go with the first one. Obviously I wouldn’t be working at the cafe. But let’s say I came in one day that you were sitting there working on your iPad.”

Harry chuckled loudly, catching you off guard. “Well, I can’t really say for sure, can I? There are other factors involved.”

“Alright,” you agreed. “But you said you’ve thought about it. What happens in your…wish?”

You swore you caught a tiny bit of color in his cheeks as Harry pulled his tray closer to him. “We have to get serious now, babe. I’m about to stick a needle in your arm.”

You puffed out a breath in humor, then sat up straight in your chair. “Fine. Mark me.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he chuckled at your joke. Then he made a few adjustments to his tattoo gun before getting to work. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. You watched as Harry traced the stencil, starting with the dripping moon at the top. After every stroke, he would wipe your skin. He seemed so focused, so gentle. You stared at his face for a little while, and every time he’d bite his lower lip, it sent your heart all aflutter. When he finished the outline, he looked up at you.

“Still doing okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded.

He gave you a smile before returning his focus to your arm. You were both quiet for a moment until he spoke again.

“I probably would have stared at you for a bit.”

“Huh?”

“At the cafe. If you had been sat near me at a table by yourself. I would have kept sneaking glances at you, but making sure you didn’t notice.”

“Well then, how am I supposed-”

“At first,” he interrupted. “Then I would have wanted you to notice. When we finally made eye contact, I’d have smiled at you.”

Lifting his head, Harry gave you just the smile he was referring to. And your insides ignited.

“I would say that’s very cheesy and cliche, but it’s not. I like it.”

“So what would you have done if I’d come over to your table and asked you your name?”

“I would have told you, and hoped to God you’d ask me for my number too.”

“Alright then,” Harry snickered. “That’s one scenario. But it didn’t happen.”

“It’s fine, Harry,” you said. “Something else happened instead. And we’re here anyway.”

“Yes, we are.”

You watched Harry continue on the tattoo, the moon starting to look realistic with the shading. As always you were in awe of him and his talent. Just like when you would watch him work at the cafe, you found yourself completely mesmerized. It was utterly sexy to you, from the way he focused on his project at hand, to the curls that framed his face and neck, and even down to the way his own tattooed arms flexed as he worked. As you studied him you let out a deep breath, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties again.

“Still okay?” Harry suddenly asked with a tiny smirk, as if he’d noticed.

“I’m wonderful,” you answered dreamily.

“You need to move your elbow a little?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you nodded as Harry sat back to let you. Your arm had been in one position for a while, and you were starting to feel the effects.

“Okay, I’m good,” you commented as you reached your arm out again. “Tell me about your next project. What are you working on?”

“Just a second,” Harry muttered. As he scooted closer again, you wondered what he was doing until he beckoned you with his gloved hand. “Kiss me.”

You grinned widely before you happily obliged, giving him a few more kisses than he’d asked for just for good measure.

“Mmm, thanks babe. It’s hard to be around you for this long without touching your lips.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re the sweetest.”

With a wink, Harry returned to his task, this time moving onto the shading of the heart. “I actually haven’t started anything new yet,” he replied to your previous inquiry. “With the moon series now at the gallery, I’ve kind of been trying to finish up some older pieces.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had anything that was incomplete.”

“Yeah. You saw the citiscape one, right?”

“Yes, that was gorgeous! That wasn’t finished?”

“Not yet. I keep feeling like there’s something missing, but…I dunno. I’m also not sure if I want it to be a series or a stand alone piece.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I know it’ll be amazing. As always,” you offered emphatically.

“Thanks, babe. This is why…” he left his thought unfinished as his tattoo gun rounded the edges of the heart.

“Why what?”

Harry lifted his head, giving you an easy grin. “Why you’re a wonderful lady.”

You watched Harry finish the heart on the tat while you thought your own heart could burst. You thought he was going to say it for a second, but you understood why he hadn’t. It seemed like such a mundane moment to express those three words.

Changing the subject, Harry chatted with you lightly about the upcoming exhibit, about the cafe, about food. You told him about your pal John, and how he was planning to come as well as Jill and Shae.

“Thanks again for doing this for me, babe,” he grinned. “I truly appreciate you.”

“Of course, Harry. I honestly think I’d do just about anything for you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Harry gave you a sexy look before quickly looking back down at your arm. “I think we’re done, babe.”

“Oh. Oh!” You tore your eyes from his to gaze down at your new tattoo. It was extraordinary to say the least.

“It’s…so beautiful, Harry,” you choked. “I love it!”

“It’s yours,” he commented. “And only yours.”

Your eyes began to well up with tears, making your vision too blurry to even see it. But you knew he was right. You had a one-of-a-kind Harry Styles work of art on your arm. And you couldn’t be more proud.

“C’mere, you can look in the mirror,” Harry beckoned, gesturing to the mirror behind him on the wall.

Standing in front of it, you wiped your eyes with your fingers until Harry handed you a tissue.

“Don’t cry, love,” he cooed. “You’ll make me think you made a mistake.”

“Of course not, silly man.” You stretched your arm down to look at the full length of the ink on your skin. “No mistakes here.”

“I’m glad,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chest on your shoulder as you took in the image of you both in the mirror. Grabbing his phone, Harry then took a couple of quick photos of your arm. “Let’s go ahead and put a covering on that so it won’t get infected.”

“Oh, how long do I have to do that? I wanna be able to show it off this weekend.”

Harry smirked at your pout. “Just a few days. You should be okay by then.”

Once again, you sat in his chair while he applied the dressing and bandage. Then he explained to you the aftercare, which made you giddy. You knew it was his job, but you enjoyed seeing him being professional.

“I’ll give you some information to take home with you as well,” he added as he removed his gloves, “but right now, I really need to touch you.”

You opened your mouth, but before you could make a syllable, Harry slid his hands under your jaw and pulled you into a warm kiss. He soon deepened it, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands traveled around your neck to your hair. When he finally released you enough to take a breath, you gasped.

“Wow.”

“Uh huh,” he voiced so low that you barely heard it. Then he licked his lips before sliding his hand up your thigh like before. “Exactly.”

You stared at Harry, his eyes darkening as he fingers began to tease you between your legs.

“So, what…mmm,” you swallowed at the sensation, “what other things did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you really wanna know?” he quirked a brow.

“Mmhmm. Yes, please.”

“Hmm, you ask so politely. But I might wanna keep teasing you like this. Make your legs tremble until you can’t stand it anymore. Until you’re begging for me to make you come.”

“Mmm,” you moaned again as he applied more pressure with his thumb, his hand cupping you, still over your clothes. “I don’t think I would be opposed to that.”

“No? You like being teased?”

“I like the way you tease,” you replied, breathy.

A low chuckle rose from his throat, and you felt the vibration as his face was just inches from yours. Then he surprised you by rising from his chair, his hand leaving your throbbing core to tug on the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Off, sweetheart,” he demanded.

You lifted your arms for him to remove your top, careful of your freshly tattooed area. You nearly came unglued at the sight of him biting his bottom lip.

“Sorry I don’t have on fancy undies,” you said, looking down at your cotton bralette.

“Are you kidding?” he snorted before he helped you remove that garment as well, his hands quickly palming your bare breasts.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the pleasure of his calloused thumbs skimming across your perky buds. He was so light and gentle with his touch, that you almost pouted, but you knew this was his intention. To drive you crazy.

He kissed you again, his hands still on you until he backed away suddenly. You opened your eyes to see him removing his own shirt, his tattooed torso on display. Your mouth watered instantly, an automatic reaction now.

You and Harry had good sex. There was no denying it. Not that you liked to compare, but Harry was the best in bed. He already knew what you liked, what buttons to press and which ones not to (not that there were many). But the best thing about the sexual part of your relationship was that it was never boring. Even when it was just quick fucking, it was amazing. Even when it was sweet, sleepy sex, you were left satisfied.

So Harry implying - albeit obviously - that he wanted to fuck you on that tattoo chair was no surprise. But the thrill was still as strong as ever. Everything he did excited you. Jesus, just looking at him sent a bolt of electricity down to your cunt, making you squeeze your muscles together.

Letting out a breath, you reached for his belt, pulling it from the loop and releasing it. He gave you another smirk as you tugged on his jeans with your non-tattooed arm, frustrated when the button wouldn’t come loose.

“Let me help, baby,” he growled, keeping your hand in position as he covered it with his own hand and helped you pull. The button popped open, the zipper separating along with it as your tug was determined. Then Harry assisted you further, his hand guiding yours down the front of his pants.

“As if you had to help me with that,” you scoffed with a grin.

“Maybe I wanted some help,” Harry eyed you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary either, big boy.”

His sexy low chuckle vibrated through your hand while you found you were a hundred percent correct. Standing from the chair, you pulled him from the confines of his jeans, the pink, bulbous head of his hard cock greeting you.

“Mmm,” you sounded. “Maybe I could help a little.”

You released his erection for just a moment to run your hands down his chest, your fingernails raking over his pecs and the light dusting of chest hair around his nipples. But it didn’t take long for Harry to reach for your tits again, squeezing them in his hands.

“Wait…I thought I was supposed to be teasing you,” he groaned.

“So you don’t want your cock in my mouth?” you teased back.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Fuck, babe, I don’t know anymore. You’re so hot. I’m so turned on.”

“I can see that,” you grinned, wrapping your palm around his cock again. Before he could protest, you fell to your knees.

“Babe…” you heard as you barely licked the tip.

“Just let me, Harry. Please? I’m begging,” you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Harry gave you permission with a nod and heavy eyelids. You took your time, wetting the head first, then slowly dragging your tongue underneath his length, from the base to the tip. Then licking your lips, you wrapped them around his hard cock, giving a generous amount of suction.

You heard his heavy breathing get louder and faster as you steadied yourself with your other hand on his hip. His own hands were everywhere at first, starting in your hair, then trying to paw at your breasts, then finally settling back on your head, gently urging and guiding you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good at this.”

You’d never considered yourself a pro at giving head. You couldn’t even take all of him, for fear of choking. But he didn’t seem to mind. Your mouth and tongue along with your hand seemed to do the trick. After a few more swirls of your tongue, you allowed your other hand to reach underneath, grabbing his balls. He moaned loudly, another expletive rising from his chest.

“Baby. Baby, baby, stop. I don’t wanna come yet.”

Popping off of him, you smiled up at him, saliva dripping from your chin. You enjoyed pleasuring him, but you were excited to move on to phase two. With another low groan, Harry ran his thumb across your chin, guiding you back up to your feet.

“Y/N. I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Aw, you mean I don’t have to beg?”

Harry didn’t bother replying with words. Instead, he pulled down your leggings with fervor, your panties clinging to them so they slipped down together, pooling around your ankles just like Harry’s jeans.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he patted your hip while wiggling his brows.

More electricity surging through you, you happily did as you were told, bending over the tattoo chair. You felt Harry run his hands down your ass before grabbing your hip and situating himself at your entrance. He slid in slowly at first, like he always did in order to get adjusted. But as soon as he let out a gasp that echoed your own, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he started to move faster.

Harder. His fingers dug into your flesh as he pounded into you. You bit your lip at first, then thought it silly since you were alone. As you began to moan, so did Harry. The sounds intertwined with the sexy, slow jazz were intoxicating. And when Harry bent over to grab your hair and talk in your ear, you thought you might come.

“Pussy’s so good, baby. Been thinking about it all day. Always so wet for me.”

“Mmmm,” was all you could manage.

“You like me fucking you like this?”

“Yes!”

“You like my hard cock pounding into you, my balls slamming against your wet pussy?”

“God, yes!”

“Yeah. It’s mine, innit? Your gorgeous cunt is all mine.”

“Mmhm.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s all yours, Harry. I’m all yours.”

Moaning in your ear, Harry slowed down. You wondered for a moment what was happening as you knew he hadn’t come yet. Then you felt a chill on your back as he stood up, his hands at your hips.

“Let’s get these off the rest of the way,” he said with heavy breaths, indicating your pants.

Blinking, you wiped your eyes and toed off your shoes, stepping out of the leggings as you watched Harry do the same with his jeans.

“Sorry, babe, for the interlude,” his voice cracked. “I wanna try something else.”

“Okay.”

You watched as he readjusted the chair to lay flat. Then he laid down on it.

“C’mere, babe,” he beckoned. “Climb on top of me.”

You shifted your eyes nervously. “Are you sure we won’t break it?”

“Only one way to find out,” he smirked.

Sucking in your lips, you climbed on with Harry’s assistance. You giggled at the awkwardness of it all as you straddled him.

“Just a second, honey,” he said when you were about to aim his cock. “Let me look at you.”

You glared at him, once again wondering what was going through his head. He acted as if he’d never looked at you before. But as you smiled down at him, his own lips grew into his dimpled grin, making you warm all over. He brushed your hair from your face, his thumb grazing across your cheek.

“You’re like an angel,” he murmured. “You take my breath away.”

“Harry…” you exhaled.

“I’m all yours too, honey.”

You beamed at him, knowing it was a reply to your previous admission. Then lifting yourself onto your knees, you looked into his eyes as you sank down onto his cock. You hissed as he closed his eyes, both of you already sensitive.

You rode him with determination, needing to chase the release. After bouncing on him a few times, Harry took your left hand and held it to his chest, making sure you didn’t put too much pressure on that arm. You giggled awkwardly as you tried to keep your balance, but your boyfriend was good at helping.

As you started to reach your high, the burn imminent both in your thighs and your core, you began to cry out.

“Harry….it’s so good, baby…oh, God…Harryyyyy.”

Bucking his hips against you, his hands both now on your own hips, he stared you in the eyes.

“I know, honey. Tell me.”

“Mmmmm…I’m all yours, Harry,” you bit your lip, throwing your head back.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Blinking, you gazed down at him, his gorgeous face flushed. He groaned in pleasure before wrapping his arms around you.

“Tell me, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“What?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Your eyes widening, you stared at him in…no, not disbelief. Because you absolutely believed it.

“I know you feel it, baby. Just like I do. Tell me. Please.”

You’d slowed down your hips, Harry having paused his thrusts. But as you began to resume, moving faster, his gorgeous mouth hanging open, you nodded.

“I love you, Harry.”

His lips twitched before he licked them, then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

A tiny giggle escaped your throat as realization kicked in. You were in love. And all his.

You rode Harry to the finish, reaching orgasm just before he cried out those three words again. He kissed you deeply, his tongue letting you know how pleased he was. His head falling back, his eyes closed in complete bliss, the biggest, dopiest grin on his face.

“Say it again, babe.”

You kissed his salty chest and neck, then gnawed on his stubbly chin.

“I love you,” you sang softly before kissing his lips.

“And I love you,” he echoed while your face hovered over his, your hair surrounding you both like a secret garden. “So much.”

Chatter filled the room and your ears as you suddenly heard the clink of a fork against glass.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A toast! To our man of the evening!" announced Sherrod. Harry turned to him with a bashful grin. "It has been my utmost pleasure to host this soiree for such an incredible artist. He is a viable part of this community, and I know you all join me in congratulating him at completing another remarkable series. To Harry Styles!"

As everyone clapped and cheered, raising their glasses, you heard Stan shout, "Hear, hear!"

Smiling at your boss, whom you had been thrilled to see arrive with his wife, you watched him make a taste of his own.

"Harry, my son, I've watched you sit at that same table in my cafe for over a year, doodling on your notepads and…thingamajig…" he gestured, making the guests chuckle. "To be honest, I didn't understand why my coffee shop, or why that table…or why only flat white lattes…" more laughs erupted as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "But I knew you had talent. And ambition. I'm proud of you, son. And I'm proud to say I knew you when."

"Hear, hear!" Sherrod and others cheered, raising their glasses again.

"Thank you, Stan. Thank you Sherrod," Harry choked. "This whole night means more to me than you'll ever know. All of you. I'm so humbled that each of you came tonight. This truly was special. I'll never forget it."

Harry's eyes met yours during his final words. Then as the chatter resumed, he stepped forward and pulled you into a long kiss.

"Alright you two," said Jill behind you. "Don't go find a room just yet. I need to take pictures."

You giggled as your friend held her phone up and you posed for several photos with Harry, including one where you were kissing him on the cheek. Satisfied with her shots, Jill squealed with joy and announced she had to take some more with her other friends next to Harry’s art.

A waiter came by then with more champagne, and you gladly took another glass, handing him your empty one.

“I’m so happy to see you having a good time,” beamed Harry, his arm still around you.

“I may have had a few too many of these,” you snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No matter. We have that limo, thanks to you.”

“You can actually thank Shae. It was her idea.”

“Where is Shae, by the way?” Harry turned his head to search for your roommate. He spotted her next to the shrimp, talking to Kyle. His chest shook with laughter as he turned back to you.

“What?” you asked. “Kyle’s a nice guy, right?”

“Yeah. Too nice. She’s probably giving him an earful, and I’ll have to hear about it later.”

You playfully slapped his arm in your friend’s defense, though you knew he was right.

“Good idea, by the way, showing off your tattoo right away. I already have some clients lined up.”

“That’s awesome!” you cheered. You figured one of them was the nice lady you were talking to last time, since you saw her again soon after you’d arrived.

“Harry, my good man, congratulations!” another voice sounded. You both swiveled to see Carlo, his arm already stretched to give Harry a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, Carlo.”

“Anything for you, my friend! Y/N, I don’t believe you’ve met my beautiful wife, Jossalyn.” Carlo gestured to the stunning tattooed brunette to his right.

You both gave each other salutations before Harry pulled her into a hug as well. Then they announced their exit and said their goodbyes.

“You have a lot of friends and admirers, Harry,” you commented.

He nodded. “Seems that way. I need to remember to count my blessings.”

You lifted your hand to his handsome face, and he covered it with his own, gently shutting his eyes.

“Y/N! We have to be going, guys!” John shouted, breaking your reverie.

“John, thank you so much for coming!” you told him as you squeezed him. “And for bringing Rafi.”

“Told you he’s a dish,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded as you watched his partner shake hands with Harry, then you did the same. As soon as they left, Harry leaned into you.

“Rafael is interested in my art.”

“Your art, or something else?” you quirked a brow. “I saw how he looked at you earlier.”

Harry cackled. “I promise it was strictly a professional conversation. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll remind him I’m taken.”

As he slid his arm back around your waist, you shook your head as you smiled up at him. “I was teasing you. I wouldn’t blame anyone in this room for wanting a piece of you…professionally or otherwise. But I appreciate the sentiment. Also, I trust you.”

“Yeah? I’m glad, baby.”

Harry brought his hand up to slide under your jaw, and he was just about to kiss you when the other man of the hour interrupted.

“Harry, lad, I have an early flight in the morning, so I must bid farewell,” said Donovan McNulty. This evening he wore a black suit with a red bowtie. You smiled at him, holding out your hand.

“Mr. Nulty, thank you so much for coming. You’ve made Harry so happy.”

Donovan leaned in and kissed your cheek, then the other. “My dear, I reckon it’s the other way around. Besides, it looks like he’s found his happiness right here, with his muse.”

He gave you a wink as he squeezed your tattooed arm before shaking Harry’s hand and waving goodbye.

The party continued for another hour or so. You and Harry both gave a lot more thank yous and farewells. Then when no other guests remained (Harry insisted on seeing everyone out to show his appreciation), Sherrod finally shooed you out to the limo.

“Thanks for helping with everything, sweetheart,” cooed Harry as he necked you in the back of the car.

“I didn’t do much,” you conveyed. “Sherrod set up most of it.”

“No, you did more than you know. I love and appreciate you.”

“Same here, handsome,” you grinned before caressing his soft lips. “By the way, I have something to show you when we get to your place.”

“Yeah? Is it under your dress?”

You giggled as his hand wandered under the flimsy fabric of the new dress you’d purchased just for this occasion.

“No,” you playfully tugged at his wrist. “It’s something I left there while we were getting ready. It’s in your nightstand.”

“Handcuffs?”

“No! Harry Styles, I’m trying to be romantic and open, and you’re being naughty.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, babe. I can’t help it. It’s just where my mind went.”

“It’s okay,” you tutted.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Harry held your hand as he walked you to his apartment. The glow of the moon shone through the balcony doors, punctuating the end of the moon-themed evening like a full stop. Although you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You laid your clutch bag on the counter next to his keys and wallet before he pulled you in for yet another kiss. Throwing your arms around his neck, you let his tongue tangle with yours, tasting the champagne you’d both consumed. Then he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom.

“Are you gonna show me now?” he asked between kisses after he laid you down.

You simply nodded, then reached for the bedside table, opening the top drawer. You retrieved a small notebook, the one you’d been writing in. Opening it, you flipped to the page you wanted to show him. When you handed it to him, he looked at you inquisitively.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Remember when you asked me if I had a hobby, something that I was passionate about? And I mentioned I used to write?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You inspired me.”

With an easy grin, Harry sat back on the pillows, crossing his ankles. You sat next to him, your legs tucked underneath you as you bit your bottom lip nervously.

Brilliant, blazing, glistening, glittering

The celestial satellite shines by the light reflected from the sun

Its beautiful mystery soothingly captivates us

All aglow, seemingly from within

Feminine energy that affects the rise and fall of the tides

A big balloon, luminous and serene

These are words used to describe the moon

But they are also words to describe my heart

For my heart is now a big balloon

All aglow and alight from within

From the light of your heart, the sun

Brilliant, blazing, beautiful

Wondrous and astral, my heart is now home

Lowering the notebook after reading your poem, Harry looked at you.

“It’s kinda short,” you offered with a hesitant chuckle. “But it took me forever.”

“Baby,” he said, scooting closer to you and reaching for you. “This is beautiful.”

“Really?” you crinkled your nose, still not completely confident.

“Yes, baby, really. I love it. I love you.”

Your expression softened, easing into a smile. Harry pulled you to his chest, brushing your hair back from your face.

“Thank you for writing it, but even more, for sharing it with me.”

“I figured I should, since you share so much with me.”

“That’s what I mean, love. Not only did you share your heart with me, but you put it into words on paper. It’s stunning. I’m…”

His hands still in your hair, he paused his words.

“What?” you asked as you saw a tiny tear escape from the corner of his eye and down his cheek. “Harry…”

“Can’t help it, baby,” he choked as you wiped the tear. “I’ve fallen so hard for you.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Tell me again, Y/N.”

“I love you…” you said, his lips capturing yours once again before you could say his name.

You didn’t mind that he asked you to say those words. In fact, you liked it. You would tattoo it on your heart if you could.

THE END

And there we have it :). Please like, comment and consider following me if you enjoyed it! Feedback is love x.

[bonefall]

Now we've got all six of em, can I just say that CRIPES ALMIGHTY the titles for a starless clan suck major ass! Both separately AND as a group!!

I Do Not Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT DO YOU WANNA HEAR MY WIP RENAMES SO FAR

Remember: Don't get too attached yet, the only one I can say with certainty will show up somewhere is the title of Book 4.

ARC RENAME: A Starless Clan -> A Prayer Unanswered

The original name is really good but I'm getting a vibe that the theme of the rework is going to be... when love isn't enough.

It's about how some things can't get better. It's about how all the kindness in the world couldn't get Bramblestar to turn around as a leader. It's about how Heartstar might have had good intentions, but occupation never works out in the end. It's Nightheart's relationship to his family being salvageable, not because they don't all want to fix it, but because his life has worked out best with distance from them.

So, Prayers Unanswered is both about the religious part of how RiverClan doesn't have a leader and can't get in proper touch with StarClan, but it's also about every other wish that hasn't come true.

River -> Starcrossed One of the VERY large changes I'm considering is actually massively reducing Nightheart's POV. I'm thinking of doing this, not because I dislike him, but because I think it might actually be a better story if the audience is guessing as to his intentions just as much as the other characters are. So, until he's ACTUALLY needed later, his chapters are short and sparse. So Starcrossed would be about setting up the troubles of the Clans, especially the parts of the conflicts I want to highlight more in BB. It would be setting up the rule changes for "starcrossed lovers" (lmao) but also the brewing anger that the cats have towards code changes... and StarClan, if I do decide to keep the newest revelations and work them in better, in hindsight.

Sky -> Fracture There's a phrase in my head that is so interesting to me that I need to do something with it. "Only frozen water can fracture." I want to make the RiverClan situation worse than in-canon. First of all, there's going to be identifiable groups this time which begin to scramble for power. Instead of having the cats just... forget how to do the chores they've done their whole lives, the Clan is splitting up into factions. This is why they won't be able to win against Heartstar later, when she decides to take drastic measures. They're not fighting like a Clan; they're fighting like a bunch of disorganized teams. There should also be a bunch of needless injuries, maybe even a border aggression that lead to a death, before Heartstar barges in. I also want to make this a bigger part of the story, Erins willing. Too much time was spent on the Catnip Patrol, imo, we're going to have ANOTHER big trip and I don't want this one to eat up so much time. Rowankit is also still going to die; and maybe a couple of elders around the Lake too.

Shadow -> Snakes and Turnclaws Berryheart's hate movement has been too tame, from canon books 1 - 4 as of the time of writing. It's ridiculous that they haven't even injured anyone in the Battle Cat series. I saved Antfur from the previous arc so that she can die here. We've been seeing the Anti-Turnclaw movement rise from the first book, so now with Nightheart's boldness leading him to a place where he will be unsafe, we need to see his rusty butt in actual danger. I'm even thinking that, instead of Nightheart failing his task on purpose, Sunbeam makes him fail by stopping him from getting killed. I need to know the ending of ASC first though, because I MIGHT be having Berryheart getting her exile here. Whatever kills Antfur is either deniable enough that she's able to squeak by while Sunbeam quietly leaves (refusing to accuse her mother of anything publicly) OR it's so obvious that Heartstar casts her out on the spot. Meanwhile, we see the OTHER half of ShadowClan's conflict as RiverClan finally unites... against them, as their common enemy. Task failed successfully, Heartsy

Thunder -> The Source of the River I'm still unspeakably proud of this outline. There's so much I want to do here. She's going to come back with a DND party and I'm hoping that all of them end up in RiverClan with her; INCLUDING Nightheart. I want the fact that he accompanied Frostpaw to actually be the final straw for him. While he's away, Sunbeam is acclimating to ThunderClan and falling in love with her new home. There are parts she misses about ShadowClan, but as she's adopted by Sparkpelt, taken as a secondary apprentice by the deputy, smiled upon by Squirrelstar after she pressures Bramblestar to abdicate... this starts to feel like this is where she belongs. And that's too hard for Nightheart to ever come back to. "You come to the source of the river, and are vexed that you do not find the water that is flowing downstream" dude.... man. That's what BB's about. Change. I also really want Nightheart to choose HIS OWN NAME by the end of this series-- so at some point in this book he should finally admit "Nightheart" wasn't his choice either. (I'm thinking Deltastep. Because his journey with Frostpaw begins at the southern delta of my reworked map.)

And I haven't done them for Book 5 or Book 6 yet, especially since I might end up condensing them or chopping them up to put into the other books.

I do know I'm really love to play with the idea of a starless sky for one of the last books though, I may or may not keep Splashtail's lack of faith in StarClan (hate the Evil Atheist thing they keep doing), but the idea of a "Pitch-Black Star" absolute fucks as symbolism, ngl. Maybe something like "A Gap in the Stars" or "Constellation's Void" or "The Stolen Star"

Also also also I'm having Curlfeather come back as a Dark Forest Demon for at LEAST one scene.

I don't give a good goddamn if they don't go to the Dark Forest or not. ONE weird coincidence that could totally have been Just Good Luck but was actually Curlfeather. Let Her Drown Splashtail, she deserves it. Let her be a malevolent spirit who protects her baby. RiverClan can whine all it wants about Mothwing who ooo doesn't believe in God, Frostpaw's got a demon. Cry about it

Also I hope Frostpaw becomes leader because I'll make it go hard

[romanarose]

Puzzle Pieces Drabbles part 1

Ben Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're dating Tom, a whirlwind romance that came at a low point in your life. Within months, you live with him and he's not as nice as he was in the begining. Tom does things that upset you, Benny finds a way to make it better.

Warnings: IDK what to call this but it's def shitty behavior throughout. Will progressively get worse during the series but let's start with this. Drinking. Messing up something that you spent time on. Emotional cheating and eventually some kissing cheating. Im not doing full series warnings because I don't know what everything will contain. We'll do it chapter by chapter.

A/N: This will be a short series of comfort drabbles where Tom does something shitty and Ben makes it better. No smut. I'm at a low point rn and just want softness.

*****************

Tom was supposed to text you before he brought people over.

It wasn't that you disliked his friends, they were all very kind and respectful of your home. If one was dropping by or it was a spur of the moment thing it was no big deal, but you didn't like having all of them over without warning. There was laundry on the couch and no snacks ready. You were sure they'd be drunk.

"Hey baby!" Tom greets loudly as he walks in, finding you in the kitchen putting some chips in a bowl. He squeezes your ass as he kisses you. You didn't like when he did that around others, he said he was just showing off his sexy girlfriend.

"Hi!" You kiss him back, so excited he's home early you don't mind the booze on his breath. You turn around and set the bowl at the kitchen island, smiling brightly at Frankie, Will, Santi, Ben and a few friends you only sort of knew. It was Ben your eyes lingered on the longest, he was your favorite, always so much fun when he came over.

Ben grinned at you. "I see you finished the puzzle!"

"I did!" Sliding to the kitchen table, giddy to show off your project, you grab the corners. The puzzle was huge, a giant baby Yoda puzzle you were proud of after all the hours spent on it. Ben was over a few days ago when you were working on it. "Look!" You'd seen it on tin tok, practicing pulling a puzzle off the table and keeping it intact. With pride, you hold it up for Tom and his friends to see, beaming. A few so's and ah's came from the guys.

Tom laughed. "oh, is that what you were doing instead of laundry?" And you catch Will glaring at him.

You mumble an apology, and begin to try and lay it down when Tom insists you hold it up again. For a moment, you're happy he wants to see your hard work.

Until he smacks it down.

You watch in shock as all the pieces tumble to the floor, clattering at the tiles. Heat burns at your face in embaressment, unable to look up to see who is laughing at you, because some people are.

When you hear Frankie shout 'What the fuck, Tom!', Tom retaliates that it's just a stupid puzzle from a stupid show.

You're ashamed at having been excited for something Tom thinks is stupid.

The argument escalates but you can't see, kneeling down to pick up the mess. Fuck, the floors needed to be washed too. Tears burned in your eyes and you willed yourself not to cry. You hear Frankie say he needs to step out, and out of the corner of your eye you see Will taking him outside, being the only one who could match his height and weight.

You're tears blur your vision, you don't even realize someone is helping you clean. Wiping them, to see Ben on the floor with you picking up the last few before standing and putting them in the box. Christ he was tall.

"Thank you." You whisper, sniffling.

"Don't thank me." His voice was deep, a thick southern drawl you liked. He sat at the table. "C'mon, honey, let's get started."

When you stand, you look at him in confusion. "Huh."

Ben smiles at you. "The puzzle. Ain't gonna let you do this without me a second time. I love baby Yoda."

Tentatively, you sit at the table with him and get to work on fixing your puzzle. Chunks were still intact, so it wasn't a complete wash.

By the time the guys came back in, you were smiling and laughing again, halfway through the puzzle once more.

**************

That's it, super simple.

I know I should be doing my DBF Joel fix today but I've had an awful time and just want soft rn

I'll do a separate tag list for this bc it's Garret, not Pedro or Oscar so lmk if you wanna be tagged.

or follow @romana-after-dark for updates

Tagging a few people I know read Benny fics

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @missdictatorme

[redbleedingrose]

Always Epilogue Part 2

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Word count: ~6.2K Warnings: minor spice, fluff, first time writing Masterlist, Epilogue Part 1 A/N: I want to start off by saying, I am so sorry this took so long to come out with. I am not super happy with it, but it is here and this is the end. As always, please please please like, reblog and comment. I love hearing your guys' thoughts. It always means so so much to me. I can't believe I made it this far. The fact I have written a series is mind blowing to me. I hope you guys at least like it <3 Love y'all so much!!!

6 Months 

Ever since your conversation months ago, Azriel had done everything in his power to spend time with you, to give you his undivided attention, to ensure that you knew he was sorry, that he took responsibility for his actions, that he would try to be better, that you were the only one he could ever want, the only one he would ever need. 

As the days went on, you spent more and more time with Azriel, and you noticed a change in him. There was a brightness in his laughter, he smiled more fully, more easily, and his general demeanor, his aura, the way he carried himself, had fully relaxed. It had become more open. His wings were often flared out, expanding into their full span and never compressed tightly against his back, like he had stopped using them to cause him discomfort. You had even noticed a change in his shadows behavior, once standing at attention in every setting, slithering across rooms to figure out who exactly was present, were now swirling freely around you both, tracing up your figure and tugging at your wrist, your waist, your hips, your thighs, anywhere they could wrap themselves around, pulling you closer to their master. While his shadows were still alert and oriented to their surroundings, intent on keeping you safe, they had become more subdued, almost less angry, less rabid. Even the people of Valeris were starting to notice the change in the shadowsinger. Before, they had been too fearful of the male to send a greeting his way, nodding in acknowledgement, then turning hastily away to avoid his dark gaze, his shadows a threatening presence surrounding him. Now, the people were readily, openly, waving at him, even comfortable enough to begin conversations with the male they once feared. 

And the changes in you had become… palpable. 

The constant presence of Az had left with the warmth of his presence, a constant contentedness. You woke up feeling fully rested, ready, excited even, to start a new day with your mate. The bags under your eyes had smoothed into your skin, and your smile lines grew deeper as the laughter you shared with Az became more frequent and fuller. Every moment you spent with him reminded you all over of why you had fallen for him initially. All the things you had shared with him over the years about your likes and dislikes, he had apparently stored into his mind, holding them close to his heart as he decided what he wanted to do with you, for you. He outdid himself every time. Every single time. Every time he took you somewhere, everytime he brought you tiny gifts, every time he whispered hushed murmurs into your hair as you cuddled, you felt loved. You felt cherished. You felt adored. 

Decades ago, you had mentioned your love for stargazing, even going as far as to change your sleep schedule to live nocturnally just so you could have the best view of the stars. It was a common thing in Velaris, something that a lot of the townspeople enjoyed. It worked for a couple months, until you were nearly passing out in the middle of training and then Az had forced you into his bed to sleep. He sat across from your splayed out body, legs stretched out with his back leaning against the oak bed frame reading his book, ignoring your protests as his shadows held your waist down to the bed. He didn’t even lift up his gaze from the story he was apparently engrossed in when he sternly replied, “sleep first, talk later.” Eventually the cool touch of his shadows and the warmth that radiated off the male had you slipping into a deep sleep. You had woken up six hours later to Az in the same position. He hadn’t moved besides turning the page to his book, watching over you as you slept. When his hazel eyes drifted toward your half lidded glare, he smirked and huffed out a laugh, “Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty.” The nickname had your heart fluttering, you ignored it as you cleared your throat and muttered back a hiss that had Az nearly rolling in laughter. 

You looked back at the memory with a certain fondness, hints of his love emulating through his acts of friendship. And it seems he hadn’t forgotten any of it. Not that night. Not the stargazing. The first date he had taken you on, he had woken you up in the middle of the night when the rest of the city was still asleep, grasping at your ankle and yanking you out from under your warm blankets. He burst out in laughter at your meek attempts to smack his chest, pulling you into his embrace and pressing a long kiss into your temple murmuring apologies before taking the blanket off your bed and wrapping it around you. He flew you to the house of wind where there was a wool blanket laid out on the roof, you gasped at the array of freshly cut fruit, croissants, biscuits, cheeses and bread resting atop it. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight, giving you an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars in the night sky. Azriel tucked you under his arm as you settled down next to him, wrapping his wing around you to keep you warm as he pointed up at the sky, listing each and every constellation that was visible to the naked eye, recounting the legends that came with them, legend of goddess’ fighting with the gods, stories of the earliest night court rulers and how they came to be. When you had finally gathered the courage to ask when he had taken the time to learn about all of these constellations, he casually shrugged, mumbling the fact that he had gone to the deepest parts of the library searching for these stories, searching for the different night skies and all the constellations they held, and had memorized each and every one of them. Where they were in the sky, and the stories associated with them. Just for you. Just to impress you. Just to show you how much he cared. 

The fact he had gone out of his way to learn about your interests, the fact he spent his free time for months memorizing small intricate details despite his busy life being spymaster, just for you. Gods, he had your heart palpitating just from that. 

The next week, he had taken you to the rainbow, insisting on buying you whatever you wanted without any limit. And when you had insisted you didn’t need anything new, that you had everything you wanted, he laced his marred fingers with yours, peppering kisses into the back of your hand before pulling you into different stores. He patiently browsed through the dresses, the makeup, the jewelry himself, picking out what he wanted to buy for you, imploring you to try out his choices and to pick some of your own. When you had finally given in, he had smiled so widely, so fully, your cheeks had flushed. The entire day he had spent, flattering you with compliments on how beautiful and elegant you looked, spoiling you with different clothes and shoes and whatever your heart desired, claiming all the while that you were the most entrancing female he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. 

A couple of days later, he had flown you out to the libraries in Day Court just to spend the entire afternoon picking out books for each other to read. When you found your picks, he led you to one of the gardens outside, sitting down next to you in a bench swing, pressing his entire side into yours, contently reading your pick for him. The book he had chosen for you had been a lovely, heartbreaking, remarkable tale of an antihero finding peace in his life with his wife and two twin girls. At some point during your reading, you had glanced up to find Az silently watching you. His tan cheeks flushed under your gaze, smiling sheepishly at you as he played with your fingers, embarrassed to have been caught admiring you in the sunlight. You gently chuckled, leaning up to press a soft kiss into his burning cheek before resting your head against his shoulder, falling back into the depths of your book, feeling perfectly content in his presence, feeling at peace in his presence, like there was nothing to worry about when he was around. And that is how Azriel made you feel. Safe. Content. At peace. Joyful. Full of life. 

This morning was no different. He had shown up before sunrise, pressing gentle kisses all over your face to wake you. He had already picked out your clothes, a lace blue top with waist high pants, setting them out before waiting on the balcony for you to get ready. As you walked out, his jaw nearly fell to the floor, hazel eyes sparkling as he admired you. “You are the most stunning female to have ever existed, my love,” his lips brushed against your ear, murmuring his tender worship before pulling you into his grasp, wrapping your legs around his waist and securing his arm around your hips as he pushed you both into the sky, carrying you to distant mountains in the horizon where you hiked up a long empty forested trail so you could watch the sunrise at the peak. The pink melting with gold and blue was one of the most stunning views you had ever seen, enhanced with the humming of your bond as Azriel’s arms found themselves locked around your waist, stroking at your belly. The silence you shared wasn’t an empty one. It was utter tranquility. When the sun had risen into the sky,  you turned to wrap your arms around Az’s waist, thanking him for giving you this experience. He only smiled, leaning down to kiss your temple, murmuring into your hair as he buried himself further into your arms that your day together wasn’t ending here, that this was only the beginning, how he had wanted to start of the day by bringing you to one of the hidden treasures of Night Court that he had found during his years of work as spymaster.

You spent a couple of more moments soaking in the warmth of the sun before following Azriel down a winding path that seemed to disappear into the brush. You gripped his hand the entire way down, his thumb stroking at your knuckles, your shared puffs of breath the only sound besides the morning doves coos. You walked for what seemed like miles, until finally, the path Az took you on ended at what seemed to be an opening through the trees. You gasped at the site before you, a remote cabin cafe near the bottom of the mountain that neighbored a waterfall. The water spilling over the edge of the cliff had turned golden from the sunrays, and the fresh mist created a cool sheen around you and Az. He quickly kissed your cheek before rushing inside to grab you a warm egg and cheese sandwich and coffee that he had promised would be the best breakfast you would ever have. The cafe had a porch overlooking the waterfall where the mist could still float onto the patrons without overwhelming them, and you found a little corner nook that seemed like the perfect view to the waterfall and surrounding foliage. Your mate finally rejoined you, sandwiches and coffee in toe, sitting down next to you to take in the scene. 

You had spent the rest of your day there, quietly conversing with Az about anything and everything that came to mind. Laughter was shared between the two of you, along with openly shared loving gazes sent to one another. To think that months ago, you were nearly considering rejecting him as a mate… the thought was nearly sickening now. Any time you mind accidentally drifted to it, your stomach would squeeze and your heart would drop. Every time though, the second Az would squeeze your thigh with his warm hand, you would forget. He sat so freely. His wings were relaxed, nearly drooping on the ground as one was leaning into your back against the chair. The sight of his damp curly ink hair pressing against his forehead, his tan skin highlighted, nearly glowing, by the sun, hazel eyes bright next to the waterfall that glowed with starlight left you breathless. He was truly, and effortlessly, the most beautiful male you had ever known to exist. And to think he felt similarly about you was nearly unbelievable. But here he was, constantly voicing his belief in your beauty, not as an opinion, but as pure fact. 

An hour before sunset, Az insisted on eating an early dinner before setting off on your next adventure. The cafe owner, an older female, who was gentle as she was kind, brought out a full fledged meal consisting of beef stew, loafs of freshly baked bread, and mash coupled with a bottle of wine. She hugged Azriel, kissing the top of his head as she sung his praises, rambling on about how, “he has spent decades talking about you dear, really, I am surprised he finally found the courage to bring you,” and “you are so beautiful dear, Azzy could not have done you justice even if he tried.” The poor male turned red at the nickname, staring you down as a smirk lilted your lips, knowing that endless teasing was about to befall him the moment the female walked back inside. “Azzy?” you mouthed at him, only to have your foot gently pulled by his shadows in reply. The female squeezed your hands after setting down the food, her honeyed eyes gazing into yours, simmering with joy, “I am so happy you are here. The hours this young male has spent loving you is beyond comprehension,” turning to Az with a wink, patting his shoulder before walking back inside. You sat for a moment, a bit stunned by her words, staring at the squirming male before you, it nearly made you laugh how shy he got under your gaze. You pressed your lips together into a warm smile, gesturing at the food, “Let’s eat sweets.” 

Despite being stuffed full, your mate insisted on getting a dessert the two of you could share, “It is the best cake you will ever try dove, I am telling you.” The smell of pineapple wafting from the plate had been so mouthwatering as he set it down in front of you, you almost immediately began digging in. The spymaster, however, snatched your spoon right out of your grasp, chucking it into the forest as you gaped at him, “what the fuck Azriel?” He smirked in reply, picking up his spoon, and scooping the whipped cream off the cake, nonchalantly popping it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped in confusion, but before you could ask him what the hell he was doing, he scooped another part of the cake onto his spoon, this time holding it out to you. You reached up to take the spoon from his grasp, but he, again, pulled away. “What the hell, Az?” you exasperatedly rolled your eyes as he held out the spoon to you again, “What game are you playing?” 

He huffed out a laugh, clearly amused by your annoyance, “No games sweetheart, just wanna feed you myself.” Your continued gaping had his expression dropping into one of shyness, a blush spreading across his cheeks as embarrassment began to fill within him, “I– I’m sorry. Did I overstep?” You opted to not respond, giving him a taste of his own medicine for a moment, watching as he began squirming in his seat, this time holding out the spoon for you to grab onto, clearly uncomfortable that he may have crossed a boundary, that he may have upset you. After a couple of seconds, you decided you had had enough of teasing the poor male, leaning forward, enclosing your lips around the spoon, keeping your eyes locked on his. The cream melted in your mouth, and you shut your eyes, humming around the spoon before pulling away to watch Azriel’s reaction. His flush had spread across his face towards his neck and ears as he shifted in his seat, wings flaring at his sides as he stared at you, his jaw dropping when you hummed again, winking as your tongue slipped out to lick the cream that had been left on your lips. 

You giggled in delight, a shot of electricity coursing through your veins as the scent of the shadowsinger had shifted into something deeper, more musky, something more delicious that had you craving more than just the dessert before you. You spent the next couple of minutes going back and forth, allowing Az to feed you a bite and then himself, playing a coy game of seduction with the spymaster with your tiny moans and winking. With the last crumbs of the cake dropping into your mouth, you were close to begging him to take you right there on the table, but before you could utter out a word, he interrupted you, a soft look replacing his heated one, “I brought you here for a reason, Y/N.” 

You sighed, slightly disappointed at the shift in the mood, but accepting it rather quickly as curiosity began to seep into you, “Oh?” urging him to continue. 

He nodded, his scarred hand coming onto the table, clasping onto yours as he pulled you out of your seat and into his embrace. You lifted your hands to caress his muscled arms before landing on his chest, smoothing down the wrinkles that had formed on his shirt from the hours spent under the mist of the waterfall. “I– I hurt you deeply on Starfall. I ruined the night for you– for us. There is no making up for it, my love. But I heard that there was going to be a rare meteor shower tonight that would be visible from the peak of the mountain right after sunset. It is no Starfall… but… I want,” he sighed, pulling at the back of your shirt in nerves, “I want to redo that night with you, if you’ll let me?” 

You were, for what seems like the hundredth time today, stunned by Azriel. Stunned by his thoughtfulness. Stunned by his love. Never in a million years did you think he would ever think to do something like this for you. He brought you to the peak of this mountain to watch the sunrise, claiming it as a wonder of the night court. He brought you to this lovely cafe where you spent the entire day enjoying each other's presence, enjoying the openness of the bond you shared. He had spent the past couple of weeks, months, just loving you, adoring you the way he wanted to for decades but hadn’t. You hadn’t suggested anything, you hadn’t forced him to do any of it. This was all him. It was nearly overwhelming, the love he was showing you so unapologetically, so truthfully, so thoughtfully. You could feel the urge to cry building up, this time from joy. Joy that your mate was giving you so generously, over and over again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just…” He pulled you closer, pressing your body against his as he inhaled, “I hate how Starfall turned out this year. I just… I just want to do…” He paused once again, recollecting himself, a wry smile appearing on his face at the gentle squeeze you pressed into his shoulders, “I want to make it up to you. I want this to be our mini Starfall this year. But truly… if you don’t feel up for it, we can go home and do whatever you want… or I mean, I can leave as well if you want to spend the rest of your night alone, I understand completely, it's been a long day milling about and–” 

You cut him off before he could ramble on, quickly shaking your head, “No, Az, please. I want to see the meteor shower with you,” yanking your mate down into a bear hug, burying your face into his neck as you sent waves of love down the bond which he immediately returned with ten times the force you had used. He inhaled the scent of your hair, rubbing his hands up and down your back, squeezing at the back of your neck, soaking in the comfort you were providing. You held each other for a couple of more minutes, letting his shadows enclose you two into darkness. 

And then, without warning, Azriel pulled himself away, a huge grin pulling at his lips. 

“Azriel,” you shrieked, breathlessly laughing into the shadowsinger’s muscled back as he threw you over his shoulder swiftly, securing his arm around your thighs before he took off into flight, ascending with no extra effort despite carrying your weight on one of his sides. You clutched at his belt, adrenaline pumping through your veins, not because you were afraid he would drop you, but instead because of the thrill of the moment of intimacy shifting into one of playfulness, “We are gonna be late, my dove, we need to hurry or else we will miss it,” he merrily shouted back. 

You shifted slightly, turning your face towards his back so he could hear you, your teasing voice barely reaching his eardrums over the sounds of the wind whipping around you, “And whose fault is that?” You gasped as the male landed a swift smack on your ass, following it with a gentle bite on the clothed flesh. You kicked your feet, wriggling in his embrace which he only tightened, “How was I supposed to know you would take forever in eating our dessert, my love?” The carefree tone he used highlighted the ease the spymaster felt as he flew you to the peak of the mountain, night falling hastily as the heavens began to peak through the dark. 

You stood with your back against his chest, his arms secured around your waist as you both stared up at the sky. His wings had encircled you completely, providing their warmth when you had shivered against the chill of the wind. He had done it almost reflexively, like he hadn’t even thought of it. The moment he felt the slight shift in your stance, his wings strung around you to blanket you. You patiently waited, leaning into Az, resting the back of your head into his chest, admiring the brightness of the stars and the moons. 

And then, a bright streak lit the night sky. You gasped at the beauty, the meteor leaving a trail of stardust that twinkled in a prism of color, the sky merely morphed around the pressure of the spinning rock. And then another streaked across the night sky. And then another. And another. And another. Until the night sky had brightened into an aurora of meteors, the stardust twinkling brighter than any of the stars in the background. Tears lined your eyes at the beauty of the sight. Never had you seen anything like this. Starfall didn’t even compare in terms of the magnificence to this. 

“Azriel,” You paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “Thank you. This is so, so stunning.” Your hands gripped at the muscles of his arms that were wrapped around you, squeezing as tightly as you could. He strengthened his embrace around you, kissing your neck, then the lobe of your ear, and then your temple before resting his chin atop of your head, “The depths of my love for you are endless, my dove. You don’t ever need to thank me. Not for tonight. Not for today. Not for any of this. You deserve every ounce of love and affection I have for you. All of it belongs to you. And I can guarantee you that this sight… it does not even begin to match your beauty.” 

A while after, Azriel had laid out the same wool blanket he had used on the roof of the house of wind months ago, allowing for you to lay down, one of his shoulders supporting the back of your head. Occasionally, he would lean down to press kisses into your temple or your forehead, or just to smell your hair sending strokes of warmth, peace, content, and love down your bond that was now singing. Your hand had searched for his, interlocking your fingers together the second you found it, rubbing the scarred skin with your thumb, lifting it up every once and a while to kiss every ridge and line that marred the back of his hand and palm. 

And you stayed that way, for hours and hours until the meteor shower had stopped, the moons and the remaining aurora now being the only source of light in the night sky. You turned, shifting to rest your chin against his chest, leaning up every once and a while to kiss his sharp jawline. His iris’ flickered back and forth between yours, caught in a deep thought that he murmured out after kissing the tip of your nose, “You know dove, I have always felt so terrible about my hands. I hate the way they look. I hate the way they are ruined by the horrors of my past. I– I torture people, and sometimes I think that maybe the mother left my hands marred because of how I use them to hurt others.” His eyes grew distant, as if he was remembering the sins of his past, the sins of his future. “Stop that, Azriel. Right now.” You pulled his hands into your chest, holding them close to your heart, “You protect the Night Court with these hands. You protect the people of Valeris with these hands. You protect your high lord and lady with these hands. And you protect me with these hands. These beautiful, perfect hands are nothing to be ashamed of, my love. I absolutely adore every crevice, every ridge, every inch of these hands. Honestly, they are my favorite part about you.” 

He stared at you for a moment, searching your eyes for any hint of a lie, but he couldn’t find any. A small smirk lilted at his lips, “Your favorite part, dove? I can promise you that one day, that will change.” You snorted at his cheekiness, a small… maybe a large, secret part of you believing him. But there was no way you were going to tell him that. You would, however, meet his teasing with your own, “I worship every part of you Azriel, don't you know that?” You pushed yourself up, using his chest as your anchor, lifting your leg over his to move yourself into his lap. His grip shifted from your hands to the curve of your hip,  “Oh?” he asked breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as his hazel iris’ darkened into a deeper, burnt shade of brown. 

“Oh yes, Azriel” you leaned down, a hair's-width separating your lips from his. His breathing quickened, feeling his heart begin to race beneath where your hands were placed on his chest, you closed the distance, licking at his parted lips, sliding your tongue across the plump of his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut as he moaned into your parted mouth, suckling on your prodding tongue, reclasping his hands at your hips, tightening their hold as you began undulating against him, locking your lips together as the sounds of his groans filled the night air. 

10 months

You stood in the kitchen, silently stirring the soup that you were warming for dinner tonight, lost in thought and missing your mate dearly. Azriel had gone off on a mission to Dawn a couple of days ago with a promise of being back as soon as possible. And true to his word, earlier in the evening, he had sent word that he was back in Valeris, but he would need to debrief with Cass and Rhys before he could join you. The moment you had received word, you had moved to the kitchen, ready to eat dinner with your mate and then stay up with him for the rest of the night. And maybe… maybe you would keep him in bed with you, and refuse to let him go. 

You smiled to yourself when you heard the door to your balcony open, pushing the soup off the stove, and running towards your bedroom where he stood at the doorway waiting for you. You didn’t hold back, leaping into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning in to press passionate kisses into his lips. He smiled into each kiss, chuckling at your eagerness, holding you up by your ass and kicking the glass door shut behind him. He continued moving his lips against yours as he carried you out of the room, slowing your kisses into softer ones, and then into pecks before plopping you onto the couch. He didn’t hesitate for a second, pushing your legs apart to rest his own in between them and nuzzling into your neck as he flopped his entire body weight onto you. 

You laid together in silence, one of your hands running up in the space between the spymaster’s wings, massaging at the tender knots, all the while allowing his shadows to play with your hair. “They missed you,” Az murmured as he pressed open mouthed kisses into your neck, running his fingers up and down your side, feeling every curve, indentation, every part of you that belonged to him. You hummed in reply, preening at Azriel’s attention, your other hand fumbling with the locket he had given you decades ago, twisting and turning it between your fingers, and then opening and shutting it creating a soft clicking noise. 

Azriel pulled away, letting out a soft chuckle, before fingering the locket away from you, rubbing at the constellations and the poem engraved into the solid gold, “What does it mean Az?” Your honeyed tone encouraging his shadows to sing back sweet nothings at their master's love. 

He stayed silent for a moment, a shy smile gracing his beautiful face, a raw contrast of his usual stoicness, his fearlessness, and yet, here he lay before you. With every part of his soul bare, every part of his heart exposed to allow for you to do whatever you wish to it. He burrowed his face back into your neck, suddenly shy, hiding the flush that crept up his neck to the pointed tips of his ears, “It’s a poem, dove,” his words slurring together, drunk on the feeling of you pressed against him. Your now free hand reached down to play with the scarred fingers of his free hand, his breath catching every time you lifted one to press a gentle kiss into the flesh. 

A huff teared through your lips as you nipped at the pad of his pinky finger, quickly soothing the sting with a kitten lick that had the spymaster’s wings flaring as his body shuddered against yours. “I figured that out for myself Az,” you paused, shifting your gaze down to his, throwing one of your legs around his waist, “I mean what does it translate to?” He stared at you for another moment, eyes shifting between yours, studying you, memorizing you. Memorizing the way your hair frames your face, memorizing the way the warmth of the flames creating a soft glow to your skin, memorizing the color of your eyes that he can never find the words to describe the beauty of, memorizing the way your eyebrows move independently allowing him hints of your emotions, memorizing the teasing smirk you flashed at him that had his heart skipping a couple of beats. The words slipped out between his pink lips as smoothly as water flowing through a river, 

“Oh my beloved.

You have taken my darkness, 

As the light of a bright shining star that is you.

I am yours. 

I’m a dark darkness, and you are my enchanting light.

You are my golden morning sun,

You are my silver moonlight.

I am yours, Oh my beloved.”

Every word came with a pulse of love down your bond, a pulse of longing, a pulse of worship, a pulse of devotion. It built up inside you, a welcome sensation, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of yearning that ended in a tender passionate love that you carried for the shadowsinger, for the spymaster of the night court, for the male laying before you, for your best friend, for the love of your life, for your mate. Az sucked in a shaky breath, pausing, his eyes flickering with a fervor and nerves, but otherwise, was still, with his hand pressed into the curve of your waist, letting the heat seep in through the fabric of your dress. The only sign of movement in the room came from his shadows that swirled around you, encompassing you both into a comfortable emptiness that separated reality in this moment, from the reality of the outside world. 

Even in the darkness, you could feel his eyes hadn’t left yours. He hadn’t left you. The steam of warm air that slipped passed his lips pressed a gentle kiss into yours, reminding you, he would never ever leave you. The candescence of his voice lulled your racing heart as you reeled at his ballad, your mind dissecting every word and phrase that he, Azriel, had chosen to inscribe in the locket you wore since the moment he had gifted it to you. After another shaky inhale, he continued, 

“Every sorrow I carry,

Yanked away

As you fill my eyes with your light

As you talk to me without speaking

My world is in your love.

Oh my golden morning sun, 

Oh my silver moonlight,

Oh my beloved, I am yours.”

“Oh Azriel…” his shy smile returned as he studied your reaction to his words. You didn’t have anything to say. There were no words that you could say, that you could even think of saying that could properly express the way you were feeling right now. So you reached down to grasp his chin, leaning down to move your lips against his in a series of kisses that echoed with the love you poured down the bond. After a couple of moments, the timer for the oven went off. And you forced yourself away after another rush of kisses, taking a deep sigh, pushing him off your body but pulling him up with you to follow you into the kitchen. You seated him at the small dining table, resting your hands on his shoulders, leaning in for another kiss which he gladly returned, eager for more. A low hum was tugging at your bond as you slowly moved away, putting your oven mitts, opening the door to it, allowing the warm air to rush against your face as you pulled out and set before Azriel, a blueberry pie. Your mate's favorite dessert. You shakily smiled at him as his shocked gaze turned away from the piping hot dessert to you. You nervously wrung your hands together, “And the constellation?” 

His throat bobbed, “The…” He stared up at you, mouth opening and closing as he continued to swallow on the air that had suddenly left him, “The what?” His eyes flicked back and forth between yours as you seated yourself next to him, leaning forward to cut a slice out of the pie to place in front of him. “What does the constellation mean, my love?” His body shook as you took the fork that was resting on the table, trembling as you picked it up and cut through the edge of the pie on the plate, bringing it up to your lips to blow some air to cool it down. 

“It was the only constellation that was present in the night sky the day we met,” he muttered, his hazel eyes suddenly lined with tears as he held his breath watching your slow movements. 

A tear escaped, slipping down his cheek as you nodded in understanding, smiling at your mate as you brought the pie to his lips. He didn’t move, hazel iris’ needing to know. Needing to know if this was what he thought it was. If this was you offering food because you were accepting the mating bond. “Please Az. Eat the pie, and let me accept the bond.” A choked sob exhaled past his lips as he took a gasp of relief, your own tears of happiness streaming down your cheek as he leaned forward, humming as he stuffed the bite into his mouth, the golden thread tying you together, glowing and singing with acceptance and love. He pushed the plate away the second he finished swallowing, yanking you into his lap, kissing every tear that had spilled past your cheeks away before finally, slotting his lips against yours. “I love you so much, my beautiful mate, my dove,” he murmured out in between gasps as your hands cupped his cheeks closer, pressing your lips together harder, “I love you too Az, always.”

Taglist: @paasrin @positivewitch @fieldofdaisiies @judig92 @sv0430 @highlady-ofillyria @wrensical003@brekkershadowsinger@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@mrs-azriel @cityofidek @nova-stardragon @thewarriormoon @ilovespideyyy@azzydaddy@bookish-dream @nobody00sthings @marigold-morelli@solossweater@rubygirly@hanasakr@ellievickstar @shadowcrossworld @lucyysthings@cameronsails @peachycandy10 @bruhhv @flyingsquids @adreamerforthestars@lahoete@mis-lil-red@his-sweet-nightmare@esposadomd@blurredlamplight@elizarikaallen@tiffthebookworm@valeridarkness@wifeofcamillamacaulay @everyonehatescarmen  @azriels-favorite-simp@goldentournesol@marina468@elsie-bells@slvtherinseeker@cafe-inaaa@honeyrydernot@itsonlymemyself-and-i@nemesis6666@thegirlintheshadows101-blog@kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake

[ifearzombies]

The Little ‘I Love Yous’ Part 2

Simeon:

- He gives you little blessings without thinking. Your tea is the perfect temperature. You find the perfect chair to sit in when your feet are tired. Little things to make you smile and you wonder why you’re so blessed; only to remember you are loved by an angel. - He wrote a little short story about your adventures in the Devildom. It’s a children’s book series about a little sheep living with seven black rams and how the sheep helped the seven angry rams be better brothers. There’s little side adventures of the sheep meeting with some doves. You have the signed first edition from ‘Christopher Peugeot’. Levi is still trying to figure out how you got it. - He noticed when you visit PH you have a favorite seat. He’s made a little pillow with your name on it and put it there showing it’s reserved for you.

Solomon:

- He hears about magic spells you’ve seen in games or movies and finds a way to make that a spell you can actually learn. Or tries to. He’s only succeeded on one spell, but the little token he gave you that lets you cast ‘featherfall’ lets you give into a few of your more risky intrusive thoughts. Or it lets you escape the brothers’ arguing if you’re not on the first floor and a window is nearby. - He explained that humans require sunlight to Diavolo so that every other weekend you two can go to the human world and enjoy the sunshine and visit your family up there. - You’re the first to see a new spell or potion or rune he makes. Normally it’d be several of the demons he’s pacted with- but since you’re learning magic too he makes a point to show you the spectacle once it’s perfected.

Barbatos:

- He’s requested a day off of work with Diavolo to spend the day with you. It’s a rare occurrence, and you can’t help but be touched he’d leave Diavolo’s side to be with yours for even a minute let alone a day. - Your favorite meals are on the menu when you and the brothers visit for dinner. And there’s an extra little heart shaped chocolate on your plate that Barbatos will tell everyone he doesn’t know how it got there as he winks at you. - Sometimes you find random notes in your things at RAD. They’re all in the most exquisite calligraphy you’ve ever seen and it’s detailing something nice about you today. Your outfit, the way you did your hair, a kind act he saw. You know who puts these in your things and you treasure each one.

Diavolo-

- He tries every hobby you try with you so that you’re not alone. Plus it teaches him about the human world and how to have the Devildom be more welcoming for when his dream hopefully comes true. - He asks you a lot about the human world and what you like and dislike about it. it. He assures you it’s for his passion project, but when you mention things you like about the human world they somehow end up part of the Devildom (though you are not about to object now that the Devildom has started selling Kinder Eggs) - Kabedons you when only Barbatos is there. And when you blush he playfully asks if he did it right this time. You tell him no just so he’ll do it again later and he knows you’re lying.

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

MC:

- You help Simeon use his computer any time he needs to use it and is too scared he’ll break it. Lots of things are harder to find without use of the internet and he needs to be able to do research for writing and you’re always willing to help. He does credit you with a pen name, but you tell him he doesn’t have to.

- You try Solomon’s cooking. The RARE occasions Luke and Simeon can’t stop him from using the kitchen he always tries to make something for you and you always try it. Even when you’re honest and tell him it’s bad after, he still tries to make things for you and you try it because he smiles wide just because you were willing to try it.

- You occasionally spend a day helping Barbatos with his duties. The first time you decided to do it you went in not knowing how much the butler does but now you wonder how he ever manages to make it one day without falling asleep before noon. The days you offer to help him are his favorite days and you can tell by the smile on his face when you show up in a butler/maid uniform to help.

- Being the heir to the throne is not easy. And for as busy as Lucifer and Barbatos are, you realize Diavolo works the hardest. You ask for a day or two here or there to spend the night with him- not even just for sex. No. You hold him and run a hand through his hair and tell him that it’s OK to rest. You give him a massage and let him rest. There’s been times he’s cried that you never speak of. Times he tells you he worries that his dream will fall apart if Michael and the other angels don’t support this. That you and Solomon and Simeon and Luke will be taken from him if he fails. You tell him it’ll be OK. That you’ll find a way back to him and the others if that happens. You won’t let anyone take him and the others away from you because you love him and the others.

[bananathebookworm]

TLOVM Season 3 Eps 1-3 Ramblings

Ep. 1

Vax showing off his new powers, fuck yeah!

Raishan... such an interesting villain and I love that we're getting to see these flashbacks and cut aways we didn't get to see in the campaign

I love angry Kiki always. I really hope we get the "Call me child one more fucking time." bit.

Vax'leth has my heart... fuck this is going to hurt

Jesus these visions are really going for the kill goddamn...

And Perc'ahlia also has my heart

Trinket is the best little guard-bear. So protective of his mama.

I love how well they've translated the natural group dynamics onto the screen. Moments that happened organically still feel natural even though they're scripted just because of how the cast play off of each other.

I know the use of CGI for the dragons is disliked by many, but I personally love it. For me it makes them feel other-worldly.

New Setting! Ank'Harel. I love seeing all of these places brought to life. It's especially great when a setting or character matches so well with what I imagined.

Ripley... it just occurred to me that we're likely going to get the "How do you, Vox Machina, want to do this?" moment and it's going to break me

Scanlan Solo Adventures! Spice?

I love when part of the music is just Sam doing random vocalizations over the music

As always, you can tell just how much fun this is for all of them and how much love has gone into creating this series

Ep. 2

Again, I love the villains in Critical Role so much and I love that we're getting a more in-depth look at them now that we can explore things away from the party

I love hearing the cast pop up as the other random NPCs

I forgot how much I loved the Twins' dynamic

"A Taste of Tal-Dorei" chalice... hell yeah

Grog being good with children is everything. Also the fact that it's Ronin Willingham voicing the little boy is great.

Ugh... Scanlan trying to be a good dad and lacking confidence for the first time ever is killing me. This spiral is going to fucking hurt... Calling it now that this season ends with his departure... my heart is not ready.

The Phoenix Wright reference... well done.

ZERXUS ILEREZ!? That was not a name I was expecting to hear.

Matt needs to sing more. That is all.

Ep. 3

Dragons being Dragons. I love their different designs so much.

Kima will always be my favourite.

Cassandra already being so over Percy's lovestruck dumbassery is everything

Vax. Shut the fuck up and let yourself be happy. You made Keyleth cry you asshole.

It took way longer than it should've for me to realize Dohla is a direct stand-in for Tiberius

In addition to Villain backstory we're also getting some great Ally backstory and I love every fucking second of it

Shield-tobogganing away from a dragon is peak D&D

General

I love seeing the different setting and NPCs come to life and them being exactly as I imagined they would be

I love the lowkey "what could've been" moments with Pike being here for the whole story. I always wonder how things could've been different if Ashley didn't have to be away so much for campaigns 1 and 2.

This season is going to fucking hurt. Between the different realationship dynamics, Scanlan and his downward spiral, Percy and Ripley... I'm not ready

[franki-lew-yo]

ALL my feelings towards Friendship is Magic could be so easily summed up as:

" -Twilight Sparkle should never have become an alicorn princess in season 3 of a series with 9 seasons - ''

She should have always had it in the books to eventually become an alicorn, but her becoming one in season 3 is where literally all (my own) problems with the show stem from and almost all of those problems are about the show in execution, NOT in theory. 

Everything about later seasons Friendship is Magic’s writing reeks of the writers trying to make their ideas, fan ideas, and Hasbro’s ideas work all at the same time with so little time. They were told to make Equestria Girls, Princess Twilight, Flurry Heart and the movie “work” while also juggling writing in Starlight and her whole arc (and the characters attached, like Sunburst), the CMC getting their cutie marks, the reformed changelings, griffons and dragons, their Starswirl the Bearded stuff; WHILE ALSO making sure Discord and the Princesses (mostly Luna) and the ‘fan fav’ characters worked on their own and come together.

In my opinion, it just didn’t.

There was always too much going on with little to no time to breathe or appreciate the characters -how far they’ve come, how much further they have to go- at all. And it made later bit of lore and characters feel frustrating. It made potentially great characters deeply unlikable. Starlight and Discord are the biggest victims.

I want to like them. I really do. I can’t though because Starlight is not only a ‘madeawittlemistake’(aka ran a cult)-villain redemption, BUT she has to share her stories with the main six. They underdeveloped her while also trying to make her important and it just made me dislike Starlight and Twilight so much. It made me get mad at Starlight for being in the way of a Twilight episode, it made me wanna scream at Twilight for getting in the way of what should be Starlight’s time to shine!

Discord now had to share his ‘redeemed baddie’ spotlight with Starlight and others meant he had no time for his development which, when it was done* (ALL of Season 4) was abysmally fast, badly paced and in my view insulting. It made Discord, even in episodes where he had a point to be there, feel useless because fundamentally was overall. Season 4 assassinated Discord’s character to me and I didn’t remotely like him. For years I thought I just didn’t like FiM simply because the show and the fandom clearly preferred Fluttercord to Dislestia and I was just butthurt. Which, to be clear, I am. My mega revelation regarding this show was realizing that, no- what I hated wasn’t Fluttercord, it was Discord himself. How he was being handled, how he was written from s4 onward (ALL THE EPISODES WHERE HE’S YANDRE TO FLUTTERSHY SHOULD HAVE BEEN BEFORE HIS BETRAYAL. ALL OF THEM. NO YOU WILL NOT CHANGE MY MIND IT’S FINAL) pissed me off so much as a person who really loved his potential character in season 2 and 3. Discord and Fluttershy being besties and possibly more could and should have been adorable...but it wasn't because the Discord we got was a horrid character. Fluttershy deserves better.

I know you guys don’t wanna hear this same old worn-out critique about FiM, but I’m sorry I have to agree: when they weren’t being crowbarred into stuff that didn’t need their stories, Starlight and Discord were both forgiven -by the show- WAAY too soon. The problem wasn’t that they had redemption arcs and/or that other characters didn’t. The problem was their redemptions were badly done. The show didn’t treat them like they had been redeemed from something hurtful, it acted like they had never done anything wrong. And that was bad because it made it so, when the three baddies at the end of the series were officially crowned "irredeemable", the show felt biased. It felt mean spirited towards Tirek, Chrysalis and Cozy when their end should have actually felt fitting and funny. It’s not about ‘morals’ or ‘punishing’ fictional cartoon horses voiced by John DeLancie for warcrimes or whatever tf Lily Orchard goes on about-- it’s about how the show FELT LIKE IT FAVORED some characters more than others. That was a thing that I loved Friendship is Magic for not doing in seasons 1-3, what made it and it’s character’s endearing and wholesome to me, and it’s why the handling of the main cast in later seasons felt so mean.

But to get back to the alicorn in the room; Twilight could have graduated or something for season 3 and then the whole show could build up to her actually outdoing Starswirl’s wrongs as she does in the pony of shadows plot. THAT could have been her ‘upgraded to alicorn princess moment’; but it didn’t. As much as I wish it were that way, it isn’t and that’s not what the writer’s did because they didn’t have the time or foresight for that. Sadly, even though lots of flaws and problems were always baked into the loaf from the start (Celestia being useless or 'sinister', ponies being racist towards everything else, bad and/or basic friendship lessons) Twilight becoming an alicorn princess, which DID ultimately change her character, her role and her presence even amongst her friends and the rest of Ponyville, was the start of all the problems.

We’re stuck with what we got and what we got was a series that -to me- only ever kept adding more and MORE until it felt overstuffed, hectic, and unfortunately mean spirited when it wasn’t trying to be. There’s nothing we can do now. Personally, I highkey am annoyed at other adult bronies saying I “didn’t get” the show and its decisions which is why I didn’t like it. No. Trust me I get “it”; the problem is that “it” wasn’t well done which is why I didn’t like “it”. “It” deserved better.

Of course, I also get some of why those bronies are so defensive. After all I was there when the whole 'Twilight becoming a Princess'-controversy happened. I remember how ugly it got and how annoying and entitled you guys were about it and Equestria Girls' existence (don't even get me started on ur #savederpy).

Something I want to make especially clear whenever I criticize writers, especially of kids shows, is that a criticism IS NOT an attack. Ever. Boycotts and callouts should be reserved for stuff that's actually morally wrong and yes they also count for stuff I like, not just stuff I want to be mad at. Lookin at you, Didney.

There was never and still is never a reason to bother, hurt or ask the writers for MLP gen 4 why they did what they did. No, not even if you're being 'friendly' about it. Leave M.A. Larson alone.

Granted, fans being entitled to creator's attention and creator's being entitled to fans' affection is it's own rabbit hole, but I truly think that FiM set an ugly standard for that with animated shows today.

Besides still being too thin skinned and not liking that a thing they've divested so much real life time into could be bad, a thing about cartoon commentary and criticism in the 2010s-2020s is they're really parasocial and demanding of writers and artists behind a show. The was always the biggest, ugliest, most uncomfortable aspect of Friendship is Magic to me: because it's creators were online and fans knew they were listening, could approve of fan's creations, and especially because they felt 'responsible' for a show's success, they were really into @ing writers about everything. When critics would call something out for being badly written it somehow always made it's way into becoming a personal accusatory thing. People were blaming writers for being human and working within time constraints and network decisions. You didn't have to be like that TinyToons guy who stalked Tress MacNeille about sexualizing Fifi in the 90s to be a harasser. You could just be an aggressively oversupporting 'stan' or angry nitpicking critic to make a writer who's just doing their job, uncomfortable

tl;dr: I disliked the writing of the later Friendship is Magic. I think it was bad because it was bad. None of that is meant as an attack on the writers who were trying their best and don't need to be roped into any fandom nonsense, positive or negative, and never should have been in the first place.

Hopefully, that's one deadhorse finally beaten.

[neyafromfrance95]

hey, i hope you don't mind but i kinda need to vent a little bit 😅

as a poc it's making really sad to see that "shipping vaultghoul is racist and erases maximus and barb" is such a prominent anti argument. i don't interact with these posts or these people (because i really don't want to waste my time) but it's like they don't hear themselves. maximus is a protagonist in his own right and has so much shit going on tat has nothing to do with lucy and while barb is a minor character, she's an activate member of a corporation that seeks to end the world for profit (and we get to see her own conflicts towards this) and not just cooper's wife. they're so much more than love interests but they need "special treatment" because their s/o are white 🙄

plus what is this narrow minded type of thinking where once you start to ship a couple all the other relationships become invalid? it's fiction ffs. no one is better than anyone and there's no such thing as a 'supreme ship'

i think the worst thing that came out of fallout shipping discourse is reducing maximus to a love interest of lucy when he is much, much more than that and as you said, a protagonist in his own right! like, can we stop only talking about him in the context of romance with lucy and hype him up as he deserves?! he is so complex and refreshing, he deserves more than being a talking point in a shipping discourse.

and while i mainly ship lucy x cooper, i'm fine with lucy x max and the majority of vaultghoul shippers are too. not to mention that max is like my ideal type of a dude, lol. i crushed on this man so hard while watching the show. so, those of us who ship vaultghoul do not dislike max or think he is boring (there is a difference between finding a character boring and finding his relationship with the other character a bit bland).

tbh, i hope max gets even more development and important storyline points in s2 so that maybe ppl will stop acting like he is just lucy's boyfriend.

and i think it's also weird to dismiss the possibility of max x dane when the representation this relationship could offer is very important. and as an enby myself it would be so validating for me to see the enby character paired up with the main dude (that again, i have a massive crush on).

also, i love barb and her relationship with cooper. she is a cool villain and her & cooper were a hot classy couple. tbh, it's just that ppl rarely get too shippy when it comes to the exes, especially when one is a very minor character. but i'm excited for whatever we get with her in the future.

in the end of the day, i hope the discourse (whether it is about cooper vs max for lucy, the age gap or the human x ghoul thing) won't get too heavy in this fandom bc it will ruin it and make our experiences here full of frustration instead of fun.

i'm personally all for multishipping lucy, the ghoul and maximus with everyone in this series.

[goldenchocobo]

So me and two of my friends have started a Gaming Culture Exchange. It’s where we give one game that means a lot to us, or embodies us as a person for the other two to play. I, of course- picked Kingdom Hearts.

It took a bit of thought to whittle it down, but in the end, I chose to get my friends to play KHII.  Because 1) it’s a fan favourite, 2) It has MUCH better combat and fluidity of controls than KHI, and 3) While yeah- you should play KHII and CoM, you can still glean the story; which is what I wanted them to play for. And if they don't understand anything- I'm here.

We meet up every Saturday night, and they play for 2-3 hours whilst I watch and act as a guide/tip-giver.

I wanted to document their experiences because they’re (mostly) fresh eyes in ‘24. This took so long to do because I kept forgetting to ask their permission to do this. How long? When we devised this, the KH series was announced that it was coming to steam during the VC call. I kind of laughed at the irony.

For now, let me introduce you to my friends! I’m not using any of their real names/what I call them due to identity.

Isopod: She/They: We get along really well and often watch shows together, play games or hang out. They’re more of a slow-paced gamer, liking farming sims and the less action-heavy Minecraft parts, but overall she loves genetic sims/ family tree games (wobbledogs, niece etc…). She’s seen little bits of KH, but doesn’t know a whole bunch. Their game for this exchange is Rainworld.

Dog: He/Him: We’re good friends that can get on each other's nerves and argue over pedantic stuff. He likes grimdark things and was the one who introduced me to Berserk. We, along with Isopod, watched Dungeon Meshi together, and I got him to watch Demon Slayer, which he’s enjoying. He actively dislikes/is uninterested in KH, not liking the style clash. His game for this exchange is Eldenring.

Due to the lag with getting permissions, each new entry will be each day until I've caught up, then every Sunday. Each day will be a reblog of this post with a Keep reading spoiler tag so that it doesn't clutter, but can be read in order.

Now that the stage is set, the journey starts below;

-

The game starts, and we jam out to Sanctuary. Isopod already kind of remembers who Roxas is and why he's here, but Dog doesn't- instead, he comments on the 'Gaming Rig' Roxas has got set up (the weird contraption with the light up star in his room) while Isopod laments that they'll never own a lamp as cool as his fish one.

'oh no, our ___ are gone!' "Your WHAT" -Dog

"I thought my audio glitched for a second" -Isopod

We then have to wait because Dog needed to eat dinner because his timing with that is impeccable, let me tell you. This let Isopod explore a bit and examine Roxas' outfit- which she concludes is a 'disaster'(lovingly).

It's then noted that Isopod is playing with Keyboard and mouse, and I m horrified. Dog is playing with an X-box controller and I lovingly refer to him as a heathen.

When Dog came back, the tutorial was completed, but I noticed that Dog... never really read the text. "I read it when Isopod has it up on her stream" he says. This'll bean important fact later.

During the Siefer fight, Isopod picks magic and Dog picks defence.

"woah whatda-" "Demon! actual demon!" Isopod and Dog during their first sighting of a Dusk. Quickly followed up with Isopod saying "why's he got cheeks though???"

The Dusk fight was quickly finished, and they both liked the reaction command (important for later).

"Why are they not calling for an adult. This (strange man) had pictures of children. That's VERY concerning" -Isopod "Yeah, the adults in this aren't very reliable" -Me, all knowing.

"COUNT DOOKU WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE?!" -Dog upon hearing DiZ.

I then let the two do a few chores for munny. Dog does the Cargo Climb, and Isopod the Mail Delivery.

After a short while, I could hear them bemoan doing the same thing over and over; then I say 'yeah- you don't have to collect the full amount, you can go now', which fills the conversation with relief.

"Oh my god Roxas is hallucinating now" - Isopod "I think his friends are gaslighting him" -Dog upon the Pickpocket scene.

The Namine scenes had some interesting reactions:

"Why is there a GIRL braking into his room?!" -Isopod "Puberty is sometimes like that" -Dog

"That is a note an adult leaves when they want to kidnap children." -Dog upon reading Hayner's note "Yeah, I wouldn't trust it" -Isopod. "is she a Jojo???" -Isopod Dog then imitates Dio -during Namine's meeting with Roxas where she freezes time.

Then, in the Dive to the Heart, Isopod picks Attack, and Dog picks Defence. Isopod is able to beat Twilight Thorn straight away, but Dog takes two attempts.

The Fourth day is where everything fell apart. The tournament was easy, and neither struggled against Hayner or Vivi. Then came along Axel.

Isopod beat Axel fairly quickly. I thought they'd struggle, but they didn't. Dog, however struggled. I noticed that when he attacked Axel after parrying or blocking, Axel would retaliate- I told him what I saw, but Dog complained 'I can't attack him otherwise'. It took Dog going from Crit to Proud to beat Axel. "Wow Golden, you're cruel to put a new player on the hardest difficulty" you say, and you would be right, but Dog typically loves very hard games, and boasts that it took him 8 solid hours to beat a boss in Eldren Ring and that 'it was awesome', so I suggested Crit to him.

When Axel was beaten, Dog was VERY tired of Kingdom Hearts, and actively tried his best to dislike it, talking bad about the combat and how 'you're locked into an action'. Isopod did not share this, and was enjoying her time. I could tell that Dog wanted this done, but I urged them forward because they were nearing the finale of the prologue.

They did the wonders, made fun of Roxas' friends gaslighting him into thinking he didn't fall off the clocktower, and they both beat Axel fairly easily second go around. They then made fun of Sora's shoes for 5 minutes straight, and ended the session.

-

It was fun seeing people's first reactions to KHII. Dog's reaction was nothing new to me, as I knew this wouldn't be his favourite, and is only playing so me and Isopod play Eldenring. I'm hoping in the future, he'll warm up to it. Isopod is enjoying her time with the game, which is good to hear.

[evermourning]

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝 - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader, lovertober entry i

genre: non!idol au, office!au, fluff, office romance, slice of life, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), slow burn??

wc: 5.8k

warnings: suggestive, making out, will they/won't they type shit, language, lots of jype idols, vague business (don't come after me i'm in med courses), BLONDE CHAN, miscommunication

a/n: here is the first lovertober entry! releasing this one in honor of chan's birthday. happy birthday, channie! <33

lovertober entries will not be coming out as fast as the bewitched series did. i have a lot on my plate, and these are longer. please be patient. thank you! <3

you took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs not helping as much as it should've. the building you were about to walk into was huge, boasting many stories and definitely was even larger on the inside. if you squinted, you could barely make out shapes of an enormous lobby, built with high ceilings and many elevators.

holy shit, you were going to get so lost.

you repeated affirmations to essentially calm yourself down. you had been chosen specifically for this job by the chairman himself. he'd stopped in for your interview, and personally taken a liking to you. you were strong! you had this in the bag, definitely.

you walked through the door, marveling at the sight of the building. it was modern and architecturally genius and unique, the colors and structure blending so well. you walked across the tiled floor, your shoes clicking against it uncomfortably loud. some people were staring, having never seen you in their life. when you rang the bell at the front desk, a head popped out from the back, looking you up and down before her lips turned upward, blossoming into a beautiful smile.

"you're the new hire, yes? oh, we've been so excited to meet you!" she outstretched a hand, shaking yours elegantly. "my name is chaeryeong. you'll be seeing me a lot. the front desk is my domain, you could say."

you smiled. so far, everyone you'd seen in this company was the epitome of drop-dead gorgeous, and chaeryeong was no exception. if there was something in the air, you were happy to be working here.

"it's your first day, right?" chaeryeong asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. after you nodded, she walked over to her desk and pressed a small button, connecting her to the intercom.

"what is it, chaer?" a lower, masculine voice spoke from the small speaker. "do you need anything?"

"i do, yes." she replied, still very amiable but much more formal. "can you come get our new hire and introduce them to the president? he was the one who requested them to be hired, after all."

"um...i'll try." the voice said, a bit hesitantly. "the chairman's been working him to the bone, so he's in a bit of a mood. point fingers if he tries to pin the blame on us for scaring the new hire away."

chaeryeong laughed softly, saying a quick goodbye before turning it off.

"alright, the president's secretary is coming down to get you. he's a real sweetheart, so he'll be your cushion before meeting the man in charge."

you nodded, trying to process what you'd heard on the intercom. you really hoped your boss wasn't rude. you weren't one to believe claims without proof. on the contrary, you quite disliked ill-mannered people.

after chatting amicably with chaeryong for a little bit, your conversation was interrupted by a soft "ahem". you turned your head to see another person standing there with a small smile.

he was tall and well-built, with a relaxed air about him. his tousled brown hair was perfectly styled, and he looked to be in his early thirties.

"i've heard so much about you, yn." he began running a hand through his hair. "lily, your interviewer, was absolutely gushing about you, saying you were the one. i honestly couldn't tell if she meant it in a business way or a romantic one. you seriously charmed her."

you laughed, your cheeks heating up from the compliment.

"that's nice to hear," you replied to his words of praise. "who are you? you seem so familiar, i'm pretty sure i've seen you on the news or something."

he sighed.

"yes, you most likely have. i'm junho, the president's secretary. my hiring was all over the news because it was very controversial. many aren't used to male secretaries." his identity clicked like two puzzle pieces snapping into place.

"oh...oh! lee junho, that's who you are!" you exclaimed, and he chuckled. "i always thought you were so brave. secretarial gender roles have been in place for so long, i'm happy they're finally starting to be broken." you saw how his cheeks turned the slightest bit redder from the compliment, eliciting a grin out of you.

"thank you, that really means a lot." he motioned in the direction of the elevators. "shall we go, then? you have a lot of orientation to go through, but you've been directed to meet the president first. so just come with me."

once you got into the elevator, which had many floors to pass, junho explained to you the hierarchy of this certain workplace.

"each division of our company has it's own name and unit, it's very interesting. the company itself is owned by the chairman, j.y. park, but he just goes by jyp. the president is very private and he likes to introduce himself, so...i'll just move on. the vice president, jihyo, is very kind but she's got an iron fist when it comes to work. she's really a lovely lady who's fought for her position and deserves it wholeheartedly." as junho explained, your interest in this mysterious president grew more and more. "the big positions of power are referred to as skz. there's like seven of them if you don't include the president. the pr team are so amazing as well, they go by misamo. it was really odd, one of our new hires said they were 'mothering'? i think that's a good thing, though."

eventually, the elevator reached the top floor. you took a deep breath, mirroring the one you inhaled before you entered. at the end of the long hallway were two large doors, and a quiet conversation could be heard, although it was unintelligible.

"may i come in?" junho called, knocking on the door.

"no." a male voice said, almost instantly after junho asked. "we're busy."

"respectfully, sir...be quiet. you may come in, junho. we just finished our conversation." a new voice replied, female and with authority.

"i could fire you with just a snap of my fingers." the first voice hissed, eliciting an incredulous laugh from the woman.

"please, be rational. you know your company can't function without me." the man went silent, meaning this woman was correct.

the doors opened to an expensive office. not only was it absolutely enormous, it was furnished incredibly well. on one side there was a large mahogany desk covered in papers and writing utensils. a laptop sat on the side, haphazardly teetering on the edge. you wanted to push it more onto the desk. behind the desk was a beautiful bookcase taking up the entire wall, sporting both business books and classic literature. on the other side was a sitting area in front of a windowed wall that allowed the viewer to marvel at the sight of the bustling city from above.

there were three people in different areas of the room. you observed and took notes on each one. two men, one woman.

the woman had long black hair that cascaded down her shoulder in perfect waves. she held a cup, which with closer observation you determined was filled by some sort of smoothie. when you came in, she smiled warmly at you. judging by how she held herself and the authority that radiated from every bone in her body, this was definitely the vice president, jihyo.

sitting in a chair near the president's desk was one of the two men. he didn't even noticed you and junho's arrival, as he was much too preoccupied with looking at...cat pictures? when he noticed your imploring gaze, he showed you his phone.

"these are my cats. aren't they lovely?"

this man was a little odd. but what he lacked in normality (which was such a vague word already) he made up for in attractiveness, because unashamedly you'd admit he was sexy as hell. he was lean, with unreachable beauty and neatly styled hair that was almost some sort of burgundy shade. he looked like he could be a heartthrob with those visuals. but he was not the man who'd turned junho away, so you determined he was not the president.

you nudged junho slightly. "who's he?"

"minho. he's the chief operating officer. he seems cold at first, but he's great. he's also the president's closest friend. him and jihyo are really the only ones who can even attempt to influence the guy and succeed."

"junho, please stop talking about me as if i'm not in the room. i'm not deaf." the voice from before came from the man standing at the window. this was the one who'd been talking before, with his embarrassingly attractive australian accent. then he turned around, and your voice died in your throat.

he had wispy blonde hair with slight curls, and beautiful dark eyes. his face looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. he was wearing a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up, so that everyone could see his toned forearms. he matched this with ebony slacks and black leather shoes. from where he stood, the light scent of his cologne wafted into your nostrils and you swore you felt dizzy.

was this really your boss?

"is this the new hire? the one the chairman was raving about?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"yes, sir. you requested them to be hired, too. remember?"

when junho confirmed this information, he turned around, his piercing gaze fixing on you.

"i hope you're feeling eternally grateful. most people start at the bottom. you see, this company is like a ladder. most people have to pull themselves up rung by rung until the skin on their hands is calloused and bruised. that's how i got here, that's how jihyo got here, and that's how everybody else at this damn company got to where they are now." his words were cold. "and today, you start your very first day as an executive assistant. completely skipping over the ladder and landing at the top. do not assume this means you have privilege, because the moment you slip up, you're out."

although his words were harsh, each vowel and consonant dripping with venom, they made sense.

"i understand, sir." you replied.

"good. i don't think i'd be able to operate with an idiot masquerading as my assistant."

the moment those words left his mouth, a strong sense of dislike grew in your bones, inching up to your brain. was he taking you for an idiot? it was already amazing enough of the feat you’d accomplished.

“sir, if i may—“ you began, but minho cut you off.

“choose your next words carefully, please. he’s like a beast when he gets mad.”

you sighed, remaining composed to the best of your abilities.

“i’d appreciate it if you did not speak so rashly about my position as your assistant. the person who approved my appointment was the chairman himself, and he had every right to put me at the bottom of the ladder, where i would’ve put in my all to climb to the top anyways.” you spoke firmly, precisely.

“is that all?” the president spoke. jihyo gave him a warning look. it was funny. she was merely the vice president yet held so much power over him. he looked back at her, gritting his teeth.

"one more thing, and then i will be done. what's your name? i can't keep referring to you as 'the president' in my head."

he let out a chuckle.

"it's christopher. christopher bahng." he looked you up and down, his lips curling into a smirk. "i think i'm going to like you."

you were not going to like him.

...

as the hours turned into days, and the days turned into weeks, you settled into your new job. however, your dislike for your boss only grew with each passing moment. he rarely ever talked to you. the only times he did were to critique your performances and bark new orders. it was absolutely insufferable.

"did you call a car?" he asked as you followed him out of the hotel. he walked quickly, you almost had to jog to keep up with him. even the back of his head was annoying, with his...beautiful hair...ugh! that was one of the most annoying things about christopher fucking bahng - his stupid hair on his stupid head with his stupidly handsome face. why'd such a lovely appearance have to be paired with such an awful personality? god had definitely been giggling as he made the guy.

"yes, mr. bahng. it'll be here any second. we'll be at the airport at 10:53am, as the morning traffic thins." you replied almost robotically. you kept these thoughts to yourself. it wasn't worth it, bad-mouthing your boss, with the type of salary you were receiving.

"good. you're getting better." he said slyly. you squinted at him.

"getting better at what, may i ask? i think i've excelled at this job from the beginning, sir. you picked me yourself."

"-from a lineup of assistants just as qualified as you. calm down. you are talented yes, but you are not special." you bit your tongue, clenching your fist to keep yourself from swinging it at his perfect cheekbones. "you're getting better at following my instructions. you've got a sharp tongue, but at least you're polite about it. do you really want to know why i picked you?"

"enlighten me, bahng." you said, in an irritated tone you probably should not have used towards your boss. thankfully, it really only made him let out a low chuckle, biting his full bottom lip.

"i'd found myself in a sticky situation. narrowing executive assistant candidates down to four or five was already enough of a task in itself, because every single person on that goddamn list was extremely qualified. and then, i got to your portfolio. there was something about the way you stared at the camera in your photo. it was so...intriguing, i wanted to learn about everything. what makes you happy, what ticks you off, every little thing."

you raised an eyebrow.

"you sound like you want to fuck me or something." the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, and chris basically roared with laughter.

"there is no way you just said that to your boss." he said in between gasps of breath. "please remember even if we aren't the office, this is still a professional relationship."

and then he leaned in, his breath tickling your ear.

"and who knows, maybe i do? wait and see." your cheeks heated significantly at his comment. as he noticed this, he laughed again. "you're so fun to play with."

you huffed at his comment, tuning him out when you spotted something in your peripheral. it was an old lady, crossing the road with shaky legs as she leaned for dear life onto her cane. she leaned a little too far, the cane giving out. the poor lady tumbled to the ground. chris noticed this too.

"stay here." he handed you his things and rushed over to the lady, helping her up and reaching an arm around her protectively. you watched in awe as he helped her gently across the street, before, kneeling down and looking up at her.

"are you okay, ma'am? that was quite a fall." he said softly. "are you hurt?"

the elderly woman blushed at his comment.

"such a gentleman! i almost didn't think kids like you had respect anymore." she cooed, smiling widely at chris. "i think i scraped my knee a bit. do you have a bandage or something like that, boy?"

he nods.

"yes, my assistant has a first aid kit. yn, can you get it out?" you'd never seen this side of him. was this who he was under that awful exterior? you reached into your bag, looking around until you found the first aid kit. you knelt down beside chris, carefully applying the band-aid over the woman's knee. when you finished, she gave you a big kiss on the cheek before hobbling away.

after she left, the sleek black car you'd called for chris pulled up, and he got inside. as you went to close his door and sit in the shotgun seat, he pulled you into the back. you sat there, pressed into his side. if it was affecting him, he clearly wasn't showing it.

"i, um, didn't know you had that side of you." you said quietly. your boss turned to look at you.

"i just see no need to act like that at work. see, i believe giving somebody respect is the highest blessing you could ever be gifted. i always try to give that to people."

"then why don't you try to act like that at work? junho is older than you, and so is jihyo." you asked. chris sighed.

"work doesn't really count to me. sometimes, kindness doesn't equate to business. this business is cutthroat and if you're sweet and soft, people will take advantage of you. it's sad, yet true." he said firmly, before adding in a softer voice. "i don't love acting like that, though. i feel really bad."

and yet, that was your first implication that there was a heart in christopher bahng's body. a truly beautiful heart it was, like a rose with blooming petals of scarlet and maroon. it was just too far underneath the thorns for some people, including you, to see. and you were determined to scrounge through your things to find a clipper.

while your boss was out meeting with jihyo, you sat in one of the plush sitting chairs, legs crossed, a copy of fyodor dostoyevsky's crime and punishment in your lap. the harrowing tale of raskolnikov's crimes and his fucked-up family bored you out of your mind, but it was the only book in chris' library that you'd actually read. it was pouring rain outside, adding a gentle atmosphere to the room.

chris slammed the door behind him as he entered, obviously annoyed. behind him, junho shot you a sympathetic look.

"what the hell do you think you're doing?" chris snapped. you looked up at him, bored, before flipping the page. "i assigned you a whole bunch of shit to do!"

"and it's done." you replied solemnly. chris sighed, slumping into the seat across from you, resting his head in his hands. after a little while, he peeked through his fingers to stare at you.

"is it actually?" when he realized you were telling the truth, a smile stretched across his face. god, he had dimples?!

"yeah, i couldn't sleep last night, so i pulled an all-nighter and finished it all. now i'm just reading this boring-ass book. it's got a good plot, though." you were rambling, probably a result of your tired brain having trouble functioning. "it's very interesting to me how dostoyevsky portrays the gradual loss of raskolnikov's sanity."

chris quirked an eyebrow. all of a sudden, he turned to junho, who wore a worried expression upon his face. chris’ face was unreadable, before he finally spoke up.

"junho, make sure nobody comes in here for the rest of the day." he ordered. junho scribbled this down.

"sir, what are you thinking- what if jihyo or minho or hell - even the chairman comes? you're not thinking this through. act rationally."

"nobody. comes. in." he repeated firmly. junho sighed, knowing that it was hopeless to try and argue.

"whatever you say, sir." junho sent you a look before leaving. "let's go, yn."

"nope. they're staying here." chris said. it was obvious junho was biting his tongue at the comment, but he didn't push it. after he left, chris turned to you.

"you can sleep on the couch. it's very comfortable. i don't want to disturb you, okay? if you need anything, i'll be at my desk, getting some work done." chris said softly, as if it was a delicate topic. his demeanor had changed so drastically from how he was speaking to junho versus how he spoke to you. you thanked him and laid down, dozing off the second your head hit the pillow. you slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

chris was not okay. he was so sure that it'd be easy as hell, that he could just tune you out, but he couldn't stop looking. your eyes were shut, your lips were slightly parted, and your face was especially serene. he didn't want to think such unprofessional things about his fucking assistant, but god, he couldn't help but daydream about you, looking as tranquil as you did now, beside him in bed one day. maybe he'd chuckle gently as you breathed softly in and out, your face half smushed into the pillow. he'd pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you- he shook his head, fighting off the fantasies.

from the moment junho had brought you into his office - no. from the moment he saw you on that portfolio, a neutral expression upon your beautifully blessed face, it was like the pearl encrusted gates at heaven had opened for him. he had berated himself for this feeling. "you've never even met them, for fuck's sake!" he'd hissed to himself, clenching a fist. "you'll meet them, and they'll turn out to be the biggest bitch you've ever met. wait and see."

and then you didn't.

because god felt like fucking with him, you had the most beautiful personality. a heart of gold with wit and a sharp tongue, paired with your drop-dead gorgeous appearance? you were gonna kill him if you weren't careful.

maybe he just had to distance himself from you, so that these butterflies, this pounding in his heart, all of these symptoms only a crazy person would develop would cease to exist. love was only going to get in the way.

...

as quickly as chris’ affection came for you, it slipped away, as if it were the final months of summer before weeks of cold.

you didn’t want to admit it, but the soft side of chris pushed you over the edge. beneath his layers of cold, hard steel was this truly gentle heart, and you couldn’t get that out of your head. not only was he...devilishly handsome, he had a golden heart to go along with it? plus, he was rich. package deal.

however, after the day when you slept in his office, you rarely saw him anymore. he gave you lots and lots of desk work, leaving you confined to the office building to look over projects and finances for him.

"i'm your assistant, mr. bahng. i should be by your side when you need it." you'd tried to argue. you wanted to be closer. you wanted him to show you that side of him nobody else saw. but he shook his head, biting his lip.

"that's junho's job. he's my secretary. you're my assistant. nothing more, nothing less. get back to work." the words impaled you in the heart, poison upon the arrow's tip. you looked away to fight your tears.

"alright." you said quietly. "i'll get back to work. promise." you left his office, shoes clicking on the floor as you rushed to junho's desk to tell him what happened.

out of anybody at the company, junho was your closest confidant. he was an older brother to you, guiding you along as you navigated the churning waters that essentially was the company. he was also your therapist. (not really unpaid or anything, you'd get him coffee in the mornings as a thank you for putting up with you.)

as always, junho's words of advice were your lighthouse in this grey haze chris had induced upon you. one cloudy thursday, a week or two later, you walked into work, stepped into the sleek metal elevator, and shot to the top. junho was working at his desk, typing away almost robotically.

"i brought you your coffee." you grinned, setting it on his desk. "brewed just the way you like it, jun. the barista says hi, by the way." at once, his face lit up.

"god, you're a lifesaver! i've been so out of it this morning. i love you to pieces, yn." junho was so relieved he got up, giving you a tight hug before chugging the coffee down in a few sips. "which barista?"

as you launched off into the story, you had absolutely no idea chris had been there, leaning against the wall, hearing every single thing. sure, it was "eavsdropping", but then again, he was the president. who could fire him? (jyp could.) chris thought your relationship with junho was...odd, to say the least. he'd tried convincing himself it was platonic. it had to be. there was no way you'd be with someone like junho! he'd been with a lot of people, last time chris checked. what if you were the next to have your heart carelessly crushed by the elegant sole of junho's burberry shoe? chris didn't like the idea of that one bit.

he was supposed to be distancing himself from you, not falling even harder for you. and he knew junho was a good person, he'd been close with chris for many, many years. and yet, just looking at the warm smile on junho's face as you rambled made chris want to smack it off him.

"i should get back to work." he sighed, turning around and slamming his office door shut. he wanted to go out there so bad, but he knew it was for the best to remain mature.

"was that chris slamming his door? don't tell me he's still in a mood." you huffed, and junho raised an eyebrow at you.

"you wanna talk about it? we can go out to dinner, my treat. i can help you choose something to say to confront him tomorrow morning, okay?"

you smiled, patting junho on the shoulder. "your siblings are so lucky."

chris wasn't stalking you, per se, he just saw you get into junho's car after work. as he watched junho lead you into the restaurant, figurative steam shot out of his ears. he'd be damned if he was going to lose you to his secretary. he'd deduced that this distancing thing was not a great idea, as you two had only been growing closer and him attempting to grow apart from you only upped his longing. and he would fight, kicking and screaming for you. you'd left an imprint on his soul, one he could try and wash off again and again, but it was like a tattoo. and you weren't getting away from him that easily.

you slept really well that night, prepared to confront your boss. you'd even gotten to work early, chatting idly with chaeryeong as she set up her things for the day. however, her intercom went off, resounding with a very familiar australian voice.

"is yn with you?" chris asked.

"oh, yes, sir," chaeryeong said quickly and frantically. she wasn't used to the president using the intercom so casually. she'd told you at most usually jihyo or minho used it. "what about them?"

"they're needed in my office. asap." his voice was firm, final. chaeryeong wished you luck, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. as you stepped into the same elevator you rode every day, it felt like it was shrinking. why were you scared? you were going to march in there and tell him everything.

when you made it to his office, he was leaning against his desk, wearing a black pinstripe jacket over his black button-up. he didn't notice you coming in, but when he did his gaze zeroed in on your expression.

"come, close the door and sit down."

you felt like a child being scolded, as you shut the doors behind you. as you sat down in the chair, chris sighed, massaging his temples.

"i'd like to remind you, it is not a good idea to have a relationship with a co-worker. it's a horrid idea, frankly." you tilted your head, confused. what was he talking about?

"what are you going on about?" you asked him, genuine confusion in your voice.

"i'm saying, please think about being in a relationship with junho. he's much older than you, and if you break up with him you'll have to see him every day, and i've heard he's a player-"

"wait, mr. bahng...are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, and chris looked away, the tips of his ears red. "oh my god, you are."

"shut up!" he said, sounding like a child, eliciting a laugh out of you.

"mr. bahng...i hope you know i'm not dating junho. he's thirty-three, for fuck's sake! he's like a brother to me. and i thought we fucking had something, you know, but then you decided to just push me away as if i was some replaceable assistant of yours."

chan groaned, slumping against his desk.

"don't play around with my feelings." he hissed.

"i'd never." you protested. his eyes met yours. time slowed to a halt as you lost yourself in his gaze. when his lips parted to speak, you were in a trance.

"i hope you mean that, i really do." he sighed. "everything i have done so far has been for you. from the moment i saw your picture, i thought you'd be dangerous to bring in because i wouldn't be able to keep myself away from you. i prayed that you'd at least have some nasty personality, but of course you had to walk in here as the most lovely person i've ever met. i want to hold you in my arms, i want to kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised, i want to feel your palm against mine. you are a sword, and your essence is the poison upon it. and god, i would ingest every drop. i would stab my heart just so my arteries and blood vessels could be flooded with the very idea of you. i am a drought, you are the spring rain. if i am a body, falling apart after being mutilated, you are asclepius, healing my broken body with your gentle, golden touch. i will lay here, pliant and void as you carefully thread your silver needle and stitch me back together. what have you done to me?"

you didn't know what to do. your boss, who you had impromptu feelings for, had just confessed to you.

so you grabbed him by the tie, pulling in for a kiss. your lips crashed together and you gave him a second to decide if he wanted this or not, before his hand grabbed the back of your head his lips met yours with a fiery passion that was not there the first time. your hands went to the wood of the desk and he flipped you around, lifting you up onto the desk. his large hands slid down to your hips as you opened your mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. after making out you were panting, he moved his fixation to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. his hands moved up to unbutton the top of your shirt, allowing himself better access to your collarbone. as he bit down slightly, a yelp escaping your lips. he looked up at you.

"i'm going to make you make that sound again. and again. and again." he said lowly, his lips finding their place on your body again.

that is, until a knock sounded on the door, echoing throughout the office.

"mr. bahng? it's jihyo. do you have a minute?" chris stared at you, his eyes wide, before ushering you into the office's bathroom and shutting the door. while you waited for jihyo to finish talking to him, you checked out your appearance in the mirror.

you had a growing bruise right beneath your collarbone.

"you can come out now." chris' voice sounded from the other side of the door. you opened it, pointing to your fresh bruise. his mouth dropped open.

"i am so sorry-" he began, laughing. his cheeks were rosy. it looked good on him, you thought to yourself. but you felt better knowing it was the product of your flirtations.

"it's okay, at least it can be hidden by my shirt." you sighed, and chris went to wrap an arm around your waist. "you're coming on very strong, christopher."

"i know. but you love it." he grinned. "and please, call me chan. it's my korean name."

"it's beautiful. your mother named you well."

you decided then and there that everything the universe put you through was for this moment. the endless stairs to the top ended with a man as lovely as chris falling for you. there was no need for luck or any sort of manifestations you'd slave over, wishing and waiting for them to come true. you were happy. that was all that mattered.

...

you laid on the couch, a blanket over your shivering body. you didn't want to call in sick, you'd been in the midst of such an important project, but chris insisted it was for your own good. you downed your mug of lukewarm green tea, which did absolutely nothing to soothe your dry throat. the door to your apartment opened, and chris walked in, carrying a large bag.

"okay, so i've got some decongestants, cough medicine, chicken noodle soup, more tea bags, tissues, and saline." he said, counting on his fingers. "oh, and i got you that candy you said you were craving.

your lips stretched upward at his words, and you rolled over to face him.

"you seem a bit better than yesterday," he smiled, his dimples showing as he knelt down beside you. "still, rest up and let me do all the heavy lifting. i want you to recover fully."

"you don't need to baby me, though." you whined, embarrassingly sounding very much like a child. it was definitely from the sickness. chris chuckled at your comment. "don't laugh at me, channie!"

"i'm not, i'm not. there's a different between taking care of you and babying you, y'know." he brushed a stray hair of yours out of your face, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek. his lips brushing against your skin was always the best feeling.

"i'm gonna get you sick..." you said softly, and he shook his head.

"if i get sick, i did it nursing the love of my life back to health. it's a worthy sacrifice, don't you think?"

you truly hoped and prayed with all your being that instead of praying at the altar, your hands would be wrapped around chan's tightly standing there. you'd look for him in the sun, the moon, the sky, and the stars. in the deepest parts of the sea and the highest peaks of the himalayas.

the gods had bestowed you with the gift that was christopher bahng, and you would cherish him, forever and evermore.

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