#Erm I have a favorite *LAUGH TRACK*

[screaming-seraph]

I'd better hold on to my wig!

[8ightism]

mr. undertale everybody

pls dont repost :( // reblogging is always welcome x

[jmagnabo92]

HJP Week 4 - Coffee Break

@harryjamespotterweek

After the war, the most important thing to Harry is his friendships, especially when he's thinking about taking a friendship to a relationship.

AO3

***

In the years since the war ended, Harry’s always put one thing first – his friendships.  Particularly those with Ron and Hermione, especially since the other two split and have since gone their separate ways, and Harry had to work increasingly hard for Ron to forgive him for not taking Ginny back after the war ended.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her, at least not at the time, it was that he wasn’t prepared to deal with the feelings after the war, it was just that he was finally free.

Free to do what he wanted.  Free to be who he wanted.  Free to be with who he wanted.  And he realized that he didn’t want to be tied down.  Didn’t even want to stay in the UK.  Instead, he wanted to travel and live life.  He wanted to explore everything that he had been denied for so long.  

And he had.  

The freedom of those first five years after the war had given him everything he ever wanted.  The world was his oyster, but eventually, he came back.  It had taken a lot of deep conversations about why he left and where he went from here before things – his friendships got back on track.  

Now, five years since his return to the motherland, he’s worried about his friendships once again.  not because he thought that they would suddenly no longer wish to be friends, but because this date could put things on edge again.  

Merlin, why did he choose a coffee shop?

It was a terrible decision, really.  He knew how antsy he got from drinking coffee and the fact that he’d already had three cups waiting for his date hadn’t been the smartest decision, but then again, deciding to ask them out in the first place, hadn’t been a smart decision, not when it could ruin everything, again.  Especially if things didn’t work out.

Sure, they’d known each other for what felt like forever, and they’d had many issues in their friendship, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work, right?  On the other hand, it had strained the friendship between them when the other two dating hadn’t worked out for them, but that didn’t necessarily mean much given his friendship with them is different than their friendship with each other.  Thus, moving from friend to relationship would be easier for them than it was for Ron and Hermione, right?  

Oh, Merlin, maybe he should cancel this date. He should just call them up and tell them that they’re better off as friends and he hadn’t been thinking straight when he decided to ask them out.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, as he considers doing just that, they walk in.  

“Nervous, huh?” Hermione asks, as she approaches the table.  

He gets up and gives her a hug, knowing how much she still loves hugs.  “Little bit, do you blame me?”

“Not at all.  Can’t say I’m not nervous myself,” Hermione says, as she sits.  “I’m sorry I’m late – I just couldn’t decide what to wear and then I thought – it’s Harry, he’s not going to care.”

Harry laughs.  “Yeah, I definitely have no preference, as long as you’re comfortable.”

Hermione chuckles.  “I know.”

He clears his throat.  “Erm, could I get you a cup of coffee?”

Hermione nods.  “I’d like that – you know how I like it, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be right back.”

It only takes a few minutes for Harry to return with coffee for both of them.  

“Here you go,” he says as he sits.

Hermione hums.  “Hazelnut, my favorite.”

“Naturally,” Harry smiles. 

It’s awkward for a minute before Hermione asks him about his work.  

Harry smiles and tells her about his plans to make something work with social work.  He wanted to help kids like him, after his exploring the world was over, he’d gone to university to study so that he could do just that.  “I’m excited to really make a difference.  What about you?”

“Everything’s going well at the Ministry, opening up a department to help muggleborns earlier in the process – when they first show magic – was a brilliant idea.  Thank you,” Hermione states.  

“I’m surprised that you hadn’t thought of it yourself,” Harry offers.  It had only taken a year of traveling and seeing how different things were with regards to muggleborns in other countries, remembering how thrown off he’d been by not knowing about magic, and wishing he’d known his whole life that he wasn’t a weirdo or freak due to the things that just happened around him before he suggested Hermione undertake such a change in the Ministry.  “I mean, surely you felt like you were behind the way that I did and disconnected when you were back home?  Or even so different growing up and not knowing why?”

Hermione nods.  “I did, actually.  It’s part of why I struggled to make friends when I was in primary school.”

Harry hums.  “Hence why we have to make a change.”

She takes a sip of her coffee.  “That’s actually something that I was thinking about even more than reaching out and telling them sooner.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I was thinking that it would be – interesting – to start a primary school for magical children.”

Harry chuckles.  “I think that’s a brilliant idea, just like you.”

Hermione smiles.  “When did you turn into such a flirt?”

“I’ve gotten better over the years, actually learned a thing or two on my travels,” Harry smiles.  “It helps being able to be a bit more normal with regards to everything.  I never really had time to think about it before.”

“You had other things to be concerned about, but I am really excited to get to know this Harry better,” Hermione says, as she reaches across the table to hold his free hand.  “I know that we’ve still been friends since you came back, but I feel like there’s still so much I don’t know about you anymore.”

Harry chuckles.  “We used to spend all day every day together, now I look forward to meeting up once a week or sometimes, once a month.  I’m hoping that we can see more of each other now that we’re… dating?”

“I’d like that,” Hermione states with a smile.  “I’ve certainly missed seeing you every day.”

“Me too.”

They finish their coffees and Harry suggests, “Why don’t we go for a walk to the nearby park?”

“I’d like that.”

As they leave the coffee shop, Harry offers her his hand, and they begin their walk towards the park.  It’s nice and comfortable in a way that he hadn’t felt with his dates in a while.  The conversation flows about the various things in their lives and Harry enjoys every minute of it. 

He’s really glad that he decided to risk their friendship for the potential of something more.

He can’t help smiling at her and when she catches him, she asks, “What’s that smile for?”

“I’m just really glad that we did this,” Harry says.  

Hermione stops and gives him a kiss.  A brilliant kiss that he hopes will lead to more.

“Me too.”

“Good.”

[therealandian]

right okay now that i've had a minute where i'm not at work, i wrote a little drabble to go along with this:

Elias stopped dead in his tracks, not quite believing what was in front of him. “Wh—Since when did you get here!?” he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at his best friend, who was meandering down the street like he'd walked it a thousand times. “We weren't anywhere close to Earth when you left—there's no possible way you could have arrived before me!” After standing stunned for a moment, Jon pointed back with a grin on his face and a twinkling glow in his eyes. Admittedly his eyes always looked like that, but that wasn't the point. “That's what you think!” he laughed. “I just happen to be good friends with an eldritch demigod!” He kept pointing, and he kept laughing, and at this point Elias was just a little bit peeved. “You bastard! Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come back here!? I spent thirty years on my own getting here, and that's barely counting the time travel!” Jon laughed harder. “I've been here since 1995!” At that point, Elias could feel himself beginning to tremble from rage, but he kept it together. Mostly. “This could've been significantly easier for both of us if you'd just told me!”

Jon was laughing too hard to speak. A tear slid down his cheek, followed quickly by another. To make matters worse, he was still pointing at Elias like he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Admittedly Elias was also still pointing, but he wasn't having nearly as much fun. He wished he was—it looked, well, fun! As if things couldn't get more confusing, another figure appeared from nowhere and froze as the light of teleportation faded around him. “Uh…,” said Martin Blackwood. Jon didn't notice; he was busy still. Elias did, of course, and a spike of dread stabbed him in the chest. “Uh…,” he echoed. As if pulled by some unseen force, Martin raised both his hands, one pointing at Jon, and one pointing at Elias. He glanced back and forth between the two as if he couldn't quite wrap his head around what he was looking at. His jaw flapped, but no words came out. Jon clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, not quite stopping the laughter, but at least getting it down to an uncontrollable giggle. He wiped away the tears. “You should've seen the look on your face!” he cried. Elias finally figured out how to lower his hand and stop pointing at his absurd comrade. “Erm…Jon?” “Yeah, yeah,” he breathed, waving a dismissive hand. “Give me a minute.” Meanwhile, Martin finally figured out how to make his mouth work, and spoke. “What the fuck did I just teleport into!?” Jon peeked up at him, grin widening once more as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. “Oh, hello, Martin! Fancy seeing you here!”

:P

i just want to end this off by saying something important to me: as of 5 days from now (may 29th), redeath will be turning 4 years old which is just. UTTERLY wild to me.

when i first started writing that thing i did NOT expect i'd still be working on it this much later. and the fact that i started on stts in late summer of '21 is just. wow this au has gone on for a while. and i still love it to bits! even now with this i'm still finding new fun ways to get them to reunite (thanks @ike9306 for the idea), and it's just. i have no idea how many iterations of the end of this fic i've gone through but i definitely didn't expect where i eventually wound up lol. i still can't believe i thought 50k was a reasonable expectation for stts XD

so i just wanna say thanks--to old fans who've been here from the start and to new ones who literally just found this today. to the people who leave comments on every chapter, those who occasionally drop one on their favorite parts, and to the lurkers i can't see but know are there. i've had an unbelievably fun time playing around with this goofyass concept, and i'm so happy to see other people have enjoyed it too. i don't know that i would've without the overwhelming amount of excited feedback begging for more <3

we've still got a few chapters to go, but i'm hoping yall will find it well worth the time it took us all to get here (looking at the person who read like. all of redeath and all of stts up to that point in one very long session. you know who you are.)

Commission for @therealandian for the fic "Search Through the Stars". Disclaimer, this is not actually what happens! Go check it out.

Thanks for the support!

[kairoot]

𝐓𝐗𝐓, Reaction To: When You Call Them By Their First Name

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, crack

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none.

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: no.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: TXT x reader

(please let me know if any of you feel like there was a specific word or phrase in here that referenced to a specific gender! as this reaction is meant to be gender neutral!!)

𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍, tbh I don’t really think he noticed it at first. Only because sometimes you do just call him by his name instead of ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ (or any other nickname). BUT. If you were to call him by his English name… Erm, he’d be somewhat concerned 💀.

You and Yeonjun lied on the couch, cuddling eachother for most of the day. His head was rested on your chest, as he watched the action movie that played on the television. You scrolled through your phone, reading emails and other things. Since you both were there for a while, you eventually felt yourself getting thirsty. Then, an idea popped in your head. “Hey, Daniel? Can you get me a water, please?” Yeonjun’s head popped up so fast, he almost hit you right in the chin. “Who?”

“You? Daniel?”

“Why are you-? No.” Then, he proceeds to put all of us weight on you, so you couldn’t get up 💀. Of course he didn’t do it in a harmful way. But he didn’t let you get up until you called him ‘baby’.

𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍, He would definitely freak out a little bit, ngl. Usually, the only time you really call him by his name is when it’s something serious, but this time it just kinda slipped out. You weren’t really thinking, so you just called his name. He’s literally gonna constantly ask like ‘are you okay’ ‘did I do something wrong’ ‘am I in trouble’. Overall, a very worried bb.

Tonight was a night that you actually felt like cooking, so you cooked Soobin’s favorite dish. Not thinking, you thought you had everything, but you forgot one of the seasonings. “Soobin, can you hand me the garlic, please?” Lifting his head from the laptop, he furrows his eyebrows. “Soobin? Am I in trouble?”

You laugh at his worrying, “No, that’s your name.” He still questions your choice of saying his first name instead of ‘babe’. “Are you sure?” Laughing harder now, you respond, “Yes, now can I please have the garlic?”

𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔, He will pout. I’m telling you right now, boy will sit there and sulk for the rest of the day. I feel like Beomgyu is the type to have a billion nicknames for his s/o 😭. But first names are not on his list. He’d rather be babied and get called all these corny, but cute endearment. So, when you call him by his first name, expect him to throw a fit LMAO.

You lied in bed while Beomgyu played with your cat, Luna. You scrolled through your phone, trying to find dinner options but nothing was helping. “Beomgyu, what do you want to eat tonight?” Snapping his head in you direction, his eyes wide. “BEOMGYU?! That’s not my name!”

“Then.. What is your name?”

“It’s baby!!! Or Beom Cakes.. or Gyuie.. or- Whatever, it’s not Beomgyu!”

𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍, lowkey confused asf. Like, oh, we go by government now? 🤨 Just to frustrate you, he’ll probably start calling you by your first name until you call him ‘baby’ or something. He only likes when you call him one of his nicknames, so like Soobin, the only time you’ll use first names, is if it’s something serious.

Looking in the refrigerator, you noticed there was nothing really appetizing. “Taehyun, what happened to all the good stuff in here?” He stopped in his tracks, trying to think if he heard right. He rolled his eyes, two can play this game. “I don’t know, Y/n. Did we eat all of it?”

Snapping your neck around, you stared at him in surprise. “Taehyun, stop.” He tilted his head, pretending to be confused. “Stop what, Y/n?” Your hands flew to your ears, covering them as if the sound of your name was a tiger’s claw to a chalkboard. “That! T-The name thing, don’t do that..”

“You started it.”

𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐀𝐈, will straight up ignore you. There’s a rule between you two, no first names LMAO. It’s not that he doesn’t like his name, he just feels like since you two are together, you should call eachother names of love. (Did that make sense?). So if you so much as say “Kai”, he will keep doing whatever he is doing and act like you’re not even there, pfft.

“Kai, where’s Kwang’s leash? I swear I put it.. Kai!” Still looking at his laptop screen, he continued scrolling. “Kai, do you hear me?” You checked his ear for earbuds. He could hear perfectly fine. “Huening Kai.”

Still scrolling. “Baby! Answer me.” You began to get annoyed. Then, he turned around with an innocent smile, “Yes, pumpkin?”

(DAMN BOY LOOKIN ALL FINE..)

A/N: i have no words. other than hueningkai is so fine.

[whosscruffylooking]

Bad Bounty Chapter One: Reunion

Sergeant Hunter x Fem! Bounty Hunter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Maybe mutual pining? Nothing too gross.

A/N: hunter was already attractive in season 7, but i managed to suppress my feelings for an ANIMATED character. alas, the bad batch has cursed me and i have finally accepted that he is my latest comfort character.

“You hold onto friends by keeping your heart a little softer than your head.”

“Clone Force 99. Welcome back, ” Commander Cody extends a hand to Hunter who firmly shakes it.

“Apologies for showing up late, we-”

“Got stuck handling some unexpected complications during a mission. I understand Sergeant Hunter,” Cody winks.

“What have you got for us this time Commander?” Crosshair mumbles, twisting his toothpick around between his teeth.

“This one is going to be a bit different boys. It’s not exactly…sanctioned by the GAR. Let’s call it a favor for an old friend of mine.”

Crosshair straightens up, suspicious of Cody’s statement, “We may bend the rules from time to time, but we don’t do favors.”

“This is an efficient mission that ultimately will aid us in the war, provide you some easy target practice…and helps me relieve an old debt I have to pay.”

“Is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?” Hunter questions.

“We’ve been called into battle. Besides, this separatist encampment is one we have failed to infiltrate time and time again,” Cody responds.

Hunter shifts, struggling to comprehend where this is going, “What does attacking a separatist encampment have to do with repaying a debt?”

“There is a Senator stationed on Drahgor III…a corrupt senator at that. One who has a significant bounty on his head. My dear old friend is a bounty hunter I met on Ord Mantell. Your job will be to take out the clankers and retrieve any data you can from the main database. Meanwhile, my bounty hunter friend will secure the bounty and you’ll go your separate ways.”

“Who is this Bounty Hunter?” Crosshair inquires.

“Glad you asked,” Cody exclaims, “Y/N!”

The clone troopers twirl around to see you approaching them. Your manner is conservative yet confident. One thing you have become an expert at is never striving for attention. Instead, your presence demands it.

You nod at the troopers, “Clone Force 99, it is a pleasure to be working with you.”

Surveying the team, your eyes first fall on Crosshair. His distrusting look reaffirms the defense you raised long before wandering onto the landing platform.

Gotta keep an eye on that one.

Next, you glance over to Wrecker. A massive lug of a man, but he has the noticeable demeanor of a gentle giant. Something about him reminds you of a plush toy you once owned as a child.

Tech catches your attention next. He is clearly the intuitive one. He will either be a pain to deal with, or a beneficial asset.

At last, your eyes meet Hunter’s. Such a tiny gesture of nothingness feels like you’ve just been thrust into a timeless world of something far more significant. You quickly dismiss your gaze, but soon find your eyes wandering back to him. His eyes are already on you.

Tech quickly picks up on your silent interaction and nudges Hunter to break him of his trance. Hunter quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat. He is dumbstruck by his response. His heart beats recklessly.

Taking note of his counterpart’s vitals, Tech is left unsettled by the quickening of Hunter’s heart rate. “Hunter, I need you to focus on your breathing. Your heart rate is abnormally high.”

Setting your sight once more on the rugged clone trooper, you catch the ever-changing hue of his cheek…the one that isn’t covered in dark ink. A hint of red paints his untouched skin.

He clears his throat, “Erm-thank you for alerting me Tech. I’ll be aboard the ship.”

Cody shrugs his shoulders at you, “I guess you’ll brief them on the ship. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you Cody, ” you clap him on the shoulder and follow the rogue crews lead onto their ship.

++++

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢

“Where are we going to go? We need somewhere we can set up camp that isn’t easily tracked, ” Echo declares.

“There is one place I can think of, but I’m not sure that Hunter will be a fan of the location, ” Tech announces apprehensively.

Hunter lets out a groan and tightens his fist.

Wrecker laughs, “Hunter doesn’t like this idea! Which means I like it even more!”

Glaring at Wrecker, Hunter abruptly stands and stomps off into the cockpit.

“Where is it?” Echo inquires. He leans in, intrigued by the atmosphere that has suddenly befallen the Marauder.

“Let’s just say…we’d have to get help from an old friend.”

“Ha! An old friend!?” Wrecker blurts out, “Try an old fla-”

“That’s enough, ” Hunter commands, having regained his composure, “We will attempt to make contact this evening and if we have no response by the morning, we will seek out other options.”

++++

All night Hunter stayed up, much to the dismay of his crewmates, awaiting an incoming communication. His mind told him that it would never come through; his heart made him believe…or at least hope otherwise.

He stretches his arms into the air, releasing a hardy yawn. Tech enters the cockpit, “Anything?”

“Nothing, ” Hunter responds with a hint of despair clouding his words.

Just then, a muffled echo transmits through the comms unit. Hunter nearly falls out of the captain’s chair as he scrambles to the commlink.

“This is Phoenix 178095 trying to contact Clone Force 99. I repeat, this is Phoenix 1780-“

“Copy Phoenix 178095, this is Clone Force 99,” Hunter announces almost frantically.

The only response is silence…until, “Hunter? Hunter, is that you?”

The rugged clones grasp on the comlink tightens, and he touches it to his forehead. His eyes are locked shut, his breath unsteady.

“Yes. It’s me.”

You hear his guttural voice and suddenly, your memories which you’ve strived to suppress come flooding back, knocking the wind out of you.

Attempting to swallow the lump that insists on crowding your throat, you press down the transmitter button, but fail to express your thoughts.

“What?” A menacing voice echoes out, “Lothcat got your tongue?”

You chuckle, pressing the comlink to your forehead, “well if it isn’t my favorite piston head.” Piston head, a nickname you have used to refer to Crosshair for as long as you can remember. You find it fitting because term is in reference to a droid, similar to the droid-like manner in which Crosshair carries himself.

“So!” Shouts a third, brooding and somewhat childish voice, “Are we bunking with you or what?”

“Yes Wrecker, you are more than welcome to stay here.”

“Thank you, ” Hunter softly says into the comm’s mic. His voice still brings warmth to your soul, although the communicator slightly alters it.

“Get here safely.”

“Always do.”

“I know, ” you affirm and disconnect the commlink.

Looking around at the empty room, which mere seconds ago was filled with the sound of your closest friends’ voices, you feel once again plagued by loneliness.

It has been nearly three years since you last spoke to them. Choosing to once again shove your feelings down deep inside you, rather than let the pain consume you, you prepare for their arrival.

++++

“Maybe one day we will meet again, when all of this is over. Perhaps then we will have the freedom to say all that we have long held in, ” you exhaust yourself in the effort to fight back the words that are bottled up inside of you.

A void and emotionless, expression spans across his face as he finally acknowledges the weight of the moment. A single tear threatens to spill over, and he clenches his fist to fight back the giant hole that is forming in his heart.

“Y/N, ” he utters, “I-”

“Hunter! It’s time for us to go, ” Tech calls out.

++++

Your entire body jerks to a standstill when you hear the hum of their ship landing.

Hunter feels a sudden sickening sensation throughout his body.

“Deep breaths, brother. You don’t want your little reunion to be overruled by sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, ” Crosshair teases.

Hunter groans, “We are here for a short period of time until we can safely get back to Kamino. Until then, this is strictly business as usual.”

“Whatever you say Hunter,” he flicks his toothpick into the garbage receptacle with perfect aim.

The leader of the clone force, known for being courageous, daring, and valiant has abruptly shifted to a timid and uncertain man. But that’s just it. He felt like a man. A feeling only familiar when around you. Every other day of the rotation, he is merely a defective clone—a misfit who despite his enhanced abilities, is thrown into combat, aware of the fact that he is completely dispensable. Because he is merely one of hundreds of thousands of others just like him, he feels like he is just another carbon copy dispersed off of a factory line. Yet, around you, he never felt that way.

He watches out the cockpit window and sees you emerge from your homestead. His heart somersaults.

“Shall we disembark Hunter?” Tech asks.

He nods.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you hardly notice the troopers exiting their ship. It isn’t until Wrecker has scooped you up into his arms that you are jostled back to reality.

“Wreck!” You cry out in excitement as you wrap your arms around him.

Crosshair lends you a wink that you flirtatiously mirror. It’s always fun seeing him fight back a cheeky grin.

Tech is clearly holding back, so you eagerly close the distance between you two and envelope him in your arms. Initially, he hesitates but rapidly works up the bravery to reciprocate.

Chuckling at his hold on you, you tease, “I don’t know who gives the stronger hugs! You, or Wrecker.” He quickly releases you and straightens his glasses.

“Who’s this?” You motion towards the pale, almost sickly-looking clone. In fact, he looks more like a machine than a clone.

“I’m Echo, ” he extends his hand to you. Accepting it, you introduce yourself in return.

Hunter appears from behind the group. Suddenly, you lose the ability to think straight, let alone speak. His eyes meet yours and you share a somber smile. Each taking a step toward each other, you close the distance between you. Unable to resist any longer, you throw your arms around him, drawing him tightly to you.

For a moment, he stands frozen. Hunter has imagined the feeling of taking you into his arms again more than he would like to admit. At last, he pushes his thoughts aside and encircles your waist with his strong embrace.

You can feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate; at least your heart isn’t the only one threatening to beat out of your chest. You seemingly melt into each other. His hands softly tracing circles on your lower back.

Knowing that this moment cannot last as long as you’d both like, you hesitantly pull away from him. His hands grip at your hips as if he is begging you to not stray from his grasp. Your heart yearns to pull him back into your embrace and to stay there with him forever.

Becoming aware of the world around you once again, you feel your face flush into a crimson red.

“Why are they just standing there like that?” Wrecker leans down to whisper to Tech.

“Sometimes, the most important messages do not need to be said with words,” he responds softly.

[helnjk]

Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader 

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork. 

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf. 

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true. 

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together. 

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store. 

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that. 

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave. 

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above. 

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?” 

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.” 

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley. 

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships. 

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence. 

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?” 

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet! 

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said. 

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!” 

“So tell me about your shop!” 

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work. 

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!” 

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend. 

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?” 

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him. 

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on. 

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!” 

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.” 

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother. 

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes. 

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop. 

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!” 

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” 

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over. 

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws. 

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand. 

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.” 

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment. 

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you. 

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!” 

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything. 

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation. 

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!” 

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!” 

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.” 

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop. 

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around. 

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.” 

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.” 

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt. 

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted. 

Weekends were usually spent together as well. 

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee. 

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project. 

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” 

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure. 

 “That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!” 

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him. 

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.  

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back. 

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup. 

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly. 

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.” 

Friend. 

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. 

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.” 

It was now or never. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression. 

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say. 

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.” 

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.” 

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?” 

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost. 

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. 

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well. 

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips. 

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return. 

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks. 

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly. 

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.” 

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully. 

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.” 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

[emixion]

School Dance - Day 25 - Maribat March

here’s some fluff after making you all cry yesterday. @maribatmarch-2k21 ao3 link To say that Mme Bustier’s class was excited was an understatement. The students were absolutely ecstatic.

Their class trip to Gotham and tour of Gotham Academy led to an invitation to the school’s upcoming dance while they visited. A school dance at Gotham Academy was no laughing matter, and everyone in Bustier’s class knew it. They’d all packed their very best clothes and accessories, eager to fit in at the fancy affair.

Marinette was excited to wear the new dress she’d designed, but that was about it.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved visiting Gotham and she loved the dress that she made, a baby pink ruffled gown with her signature floral design embroidered on the bodice, but she didn’t anticipate having much fun at this dance.

She didn’t know anyone in Gotham, and her whole class was still enamored by Lila, they barely had any time for her. The only person not hanging onto the liar’s every word was Chloe, and she wasn’t exactly the company Marinette wanted to keep.

Nevertheless, when the night of the dance arrived, Marinette put her dress on and got ready alone.

The other girls were all getting ready together, but she really didn’t want to be around Lila. Besides, she was sure she wasn’t welcome after Lila had tried to frame her for spilling her coffee the other day.

After getting dressed, she had Tikki help her put her hair in a low messy bun, letting a few wavy locks of midnight hair stick around to frame her face.

She applied her makeup, a neutral brown smokey eye and peachy pink lip gloss, as well as her accessories, a rose gold headband and a bracelet to match.

After slipping on her heels, she was ready to go.

Tikki smiled at her chosen as she stood before her.

“Oh, Marinette! You look so beautiful! And so grown up!” The tiny goddess wiped a small tear from her eye.

Marinette giggled, pulling Tikki close to nuzzle her against her cheek. “Thank you, Tikki. I hope tonight goes well.”

“Anything can happen in a new city. Keep an open mind tonight!” Tikki advised.

“Thanks, I will.” Marinette replied, opening her small cross body for Tikki to fly into.

With a sigh, she turned off the light and left her hotel room.

The hotel lobby was full of hustle and bustle as the students of Francis Dupont chattered excitedly about the dance, all dressed in their very best.

Marinette stayed towards the back and kept to herself, waiting patiently for the transportation to arrive.

Suddenly, yells of surprise rang out from her classmates as a stretch limo pulled up in front of the hotel.

Marinette strained a bit to see it, shocked as her class that an actual limo was picking them up instead of a bus.

“Courtesy of the Waynes.” The driver announced as the students stepped into the limo.

“I can’t believe the Waynes did this for us!”

“That’s so cool!”

“We get to ride in a limo?”

Marinette got in last, wondering who these Waynes were that everyone was talking about.

-

The hall rented for the dance was, in a word, big.

It was decorated to the nines and full of Gotham Academy students, all dressed for the occasion.

Music was already playing and tables were already full of refreshments.

The ecstatic class practically skipped into the hall, all except Marinette.

The miraculous wielder stuck behind, slowly walking in as opposed to her eager peers. She was nervous to be here.

While the rest of her friends stuck close to Lila or danced with their partners, Marinette stayed at one of the tables on the outer edge of the hall, sitting by herself.

She smiled as she watched Nino spin Alya around as the couple laughed. She was glad at least they were having fun.

She was so focused on watching her friends, she didn’t notice the boy walking up to her until he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Excuse me?” The boy called, nearly startling her. She whipped her head over to look at him. He had dark hair, tan skin and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” Her voice was a little hoarse as it came out. Clearly she wasn’t expecting to use it.

“I normally don’t approach strangers, but it didn’t sit right with me to watch you sit here all alone. May I keep you company?” The boy asked. Marinette blinked at him.

“Oh, um, sure!” She gave him a smile. “That’s very nice of you. I’m Marinette.” She offered her hand for a shake.

“Damian.” He introduced himself, taking her offered hand and pulling it to his lips. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Y-you too!” She squeaked, her face tinting pink. Damian smiled at her.

“May I ask what a beautiful young lady like yourself is doing by herself at a dance?” He asked, gently putting her hand down.

“Oh, well…” Marinette trailed off, glancing downward. “Um, my class and I aren’t as close as we used to be, and most of my friends are with their partners, so I didn’t want to bother them.”

Damian frowned. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be bothering them if you are their friend, but I understand wanting to sit away from all of the action.”

“Are you not a fan of dances?” She asked.

“More the crowd. I try not to draw too much attention to myself. I find it unamusing.” His face twisted in distaste.

Marinette giggled. “I get that. I try to stay under the radar too.”

“Well, I’m glad I decided to stick to the shadows tonight. I got to meet you.” His face softened when he looked back at her.

Marinette flushed deeper, bowing her head shyly. “Yeah, I-I’m glad I did too.”

The two spent a while talking to each other, staying in their own bubble away from the noise of their peers. Eventually they walked over to the refreshments to get themselves some punch and continued to talk over there.

“What’s your favorite piece that you’ve designed?” Damian asked, continuing their conversation about hobbies.

Marinette pointed sheepishly as her gown.

Damian’s eyes widened. “You made this?”

She nodded. “From scratch.”

“That is..quite impressive.” He mused, admiring the dress for the millionth time that night. “My brother would lose his mind over you. He is always keeping track of up and coming designers.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled. “I’d love to meet him sometime. Is he your only brother?”

Damian snorted. “Hardly. I have three brothers and a sister. And on top of that, two pseudo sisters and a pseudo brother.”

“Wow,” Marinette laughed. “That’s such a big family.”

“Tell me about it.” Damian muttered. “Do you have any siblings?”

She shook her head. “No, just me. I’d love to have some, though. You’re very lucky.”

“You haven’t tried living with them, Angel.”

She laughed again, taking a small sip of punch.

She’d nearly finished her cup when the music slowed down and the students on the dance floor either stepped back or grabbed partners to dance with.

Marinette watched as Nino and Alya, Juleka and Rose, and Ivan and Mylene all paired up on the floor.

“Marinette,” Damian’s voice pulled her attention back.

“Yes?”

He extended his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Marinette stared at him a moment, a smile slowly working its way to her face. “I would love to.” And with that she set down her cup and took the boy’s hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

Once on the floor, Damian placed his free hand on her waist, his other still grasping hers. Marinette moved her free hand to his shoulder.

“I might step on your feet.” She whispered guiltily. Damian chuckled softly.

“That’s fine by me.” He pulled her a bit closer.

Unbeknownst to the pair, who were too wrapped up in each other, they had formed quite an audience.

“Is that Marinette with Damian Wayne..?”

“Oh my gosh, look at the way he’s looking at her.”

“The Ice Prince has a girlfriend?”

“Who is that girl? Her dress is stunning.”

Whispers from both of their peers filled the hall, as the other couples stepped back to watch Damian and Marinette.

“You’re beautiful.” Damian murmured, momentarily moving his hand from her waist to brush her bangs out of her eyes.

Marinette gazed back at him, completely captivated. “Thank you.” She breathed.

The slow song played its final cords and the tempo sped up again.

Spell broken, Marinette finally noticed all of the staring, looking around self consciously. “Damian..?” She said his name cautiously.

“C’mon.” Damian said, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor.

“Why were they staring at us?” She asked once they were in a quieter part of the hall. Damian sighed.

“Because I’m a Wayne.” His voice sounded dejected.

“A..Wayne?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, as in Bruce Wayne’s son, The CEO of Wayne Enterprises? The biggest sponsor of Gotham Academy? Any of that sound familiar?”

Marinette just shook her head.

Damian stared at her for a long moment before he began to chuckle.

“Wait, so, you don’t know who I am?” He asked.

She shook her head again, shrugging. “Sorry?”

“No, no, don’t be.” He quickly took her hands. “I just thought that was the only reason you kept my company tonight. Because of who my family is.”

“Of course not.” She said softly, squeezing his hands in her own. “I spent all this time with you because I like you…” Her voice went quiet and shy near the end.

“I like you, too..” He murmured, squeezing her hands back. “Would you, erm, like to do something while you’re here? Maybe on your free day?”

Marinette smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I would be glad to.”

-

Once the dance was over and the pair bid farewell for the night, Marinette made her way out front to the waiting limo.

Her class, suddenly having more than enough time for her, swarmed her as she approached, asking her various questions about Damian.

Marinette just grinned and brushed them off.

[hongjoongtrasher]

ATEEZ FINAL PART : when they said something to hurt you.

I'm glad you've liked the previous part (part 1 and 2 here if you haven't read it yet), so here is a final to all this angsty reactions (if it is a reaction). Sorry if there are a lot of grammar errors, English not being my mother tongue -

Gosh this is going to be LONG please, bear with me ugh.

Hongjoong:

After this stormy episode of him totally lashing his stress out on you, he spent some time alone to think and reflect upon his trashy behaviour. He was genuinely aware of the massive efforts you were doing for his ass. Literally be patient and taking everything on you so he didn't have to feel more stressed. But today was different. He obviously went too far, saying those words horribly. Furthermore, he knew how hurt you've been because of him and now he didn't really know how to be forgiven. He always have been busy, always considering his work first and thought you were in an equal part of this, but seems he considered you taken for granted. The leader sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes not seeing any solutions at the moment. It's at this moment that Seonghwa entered the place. "Erm...Joong ?" he didn't answer, only Seonghwa could see how much his leader was in distress. "I heard from Y/N, mh I mean she told San who told me but anyway-" began the oldest before Hongjoong asked simply: "Have you come to scold me ?" A silence then. "No, I came to check on you." Seonghwa was always worried about his leader, since he knew the best how hardworking and diligent Hongjoong was, but today he felt like he was wrong. "You've acted like a real idiot this time" Hongjoong let a sarcastic laugh be heard as he slowly turned to face his friend. "Yeah, I know. Do you think she will forgive me ?" "Probably not easily." he answered honestly before continuing. "She told San she was tired of this, always being a shadow to you, erm...and nowadays she's been really stressed at work" A shadow ? Is this how you were seeing yourself as ? And on top of that, he was completely unaware of your work, how life has been going for you. This made the leader felt more guilty as he bite his lips. "So...What should I do ? Kneeling and beg her for forgiveness ?" Seonghwa sighed and put a comforting hand on the leader shoulder. "Sometimes actions are better than words".

And he left the studio, putting Hongjoong in a more difficult situation than he was already. What did he mean ? He thought about it again and again, watching without really watching his screen before it tilted inside his head. "THE SONG !!" he yelled at himself, feeling now very dumb. He had almost forgotten this track, a very secret one he composed for a long time. This song was special for him, it was a song which were written for you, and was conveying all of his feelings. He had to make you listen to this. A glance at his phone indicated it was already 3am in the morning, but sleep could wait. He spent the rest of the night finishing this track, or actually checking it before he saved a copy and directly sent it to you, praying you'd see it in the morning.

You'd spent the most horrible night of your life. Crying and turning under your blanket as you felt useless, no one. San proposed to come with Yunho, but you insisted to be alone, so they let you be, though they were worried. You only found sleep around two in the morning, tired for having crying most of the night. You woke up at six, your eyes hurting, puffy and red as fuck. Anyone could tell you've cried your eyeballs out. First you went to the bathroom to clean your face with cold water, your stuffy nose not helping in the process. After a while you returned to your bedroom and took your phone, not expecting to see a message from your boyfriend, or was he still yours ? At first you hesitated to open it, but finally did. No text, just an audio file. What was this ? Taking your headphone, you put them into your ear before clicking on the file, closing your eyes. At first, you were confused. You've never heard any melody like this one, so...calm, bubbly and soft. Soon Hongjoong's voice appeared with lyrics he surely had written and...you broke in tears again. This time not from sadness, but ...it was like a dream. You could heard his feelings, how much he loved you. You were ready to forgive him, but...it wasn't easy. Reconciliations were always difficult for both of you. Brushing this instantly aside, you rushed out from your apartment for going directly to Hongjoong's studio, in home wear, messy hair and "after crying faced" only to find him asleep on the couch. Panting, you rushed to jump on your boyfriend, sobbing again . This caused Hongjoong to wake up in surprise, confused. "Y-Y/N ?" why ? Why were you crying again ? After a while of you crying heavily on his shirt, he realised you probably came after hearing his song. His arms softly hooked around your tiny waist as one hand rubbed your back. "Shh...don't cry" he said, heartbroken to see you like this. "You dummy !" you yelled between two sobs. "I know." "I - I love you" "Me too, I'm sorry for being a huge dummy" he said with a gentle smile, holding your face to wipe your tears.

Seonghwa:

How rude he's been with you. It's only after hearing your answer that he realised you didn't deserve this. He wanted to chase after you, saying he was sorry, but too late, you slammed the door. Hongjoong came to their shared room before leaning at the door's frame, arching a brow at the oldest. "Can you explain to me what did just happen ?" he asked calmly before Seonghwa bite his lower tier. "I've been a jerk with her" he mumbled, not proud of himself this time. "Yeah, we saw this. You know, she only wanted to cheer you up. We all know you're having bad times because of vocal things, but you didn't have to lash out on her." His leader wasn't wrong, only himself was. "Hwa, go after her. It's not too late" said Hongjoong. "Now ?" Hongjoong sighed. "Yes now, not tomorrow or later" Seonghwa blinked, overthinking before his own body stood up and carried him outside the dorm, chasing after you desperately. He shouldn't have had been this way, he should have been thankful to have you by his side, always being cheerful and bright although sometimes you were hiding your own demons. But being a couple meant for the good and the worst right ? After running for a while, he stopped, panting his lungs on fire. He started to think. Where could you be now ? He remembered when you were sad or stressed, you used to go to Starbucks and get a drink full of sugar and whipped cream, that's how he thought you'd at the nearest one. Not minding people watching him when he opened the door, he eyed the room quickly before seeing you at the table across the entrance. He stepped inside and directly went to your seat as you were still sniffing with tears, your drink between your hands. Not expecting to see your boyfriend, you gasped when you finally realised he was standing here without saying anything. "Y/N.." You tried to gain composure, not wanting to appear fragile in front of him. "What are you doing here ? I thought you didn't want to see me" you croaked, looking away coldly. You heard him sitting before you and took your cold hands. "Y/N I'm sorry. I've been a jerk, you didn't deserve this- I know my work isn't an excuse for acting this way, I understand if you don't want to talk to me or-" "Shut up..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed as more people were staring at you two. "I will do everything for you to forgive me, really." he said seriously, not quitting your face from his gaze. Some people were whispering and gossiping, and the more they did, the more you felt ridiculous. You stood up quickly and went straight to the exit with your double cold latte with whipped cream, your boyfriend following you closely. "Are you crazy Park Seonghwa ??? Did you forget you're an idole ? Huh ?? What are you going to do if they recognise you ?" You began to yell but Seonghwa stopped you by taking your free hand and said clearly. "Then I will just say you're my girlfriend and that I don't care, cause you deserve way more than this. Beside being an idole I'm a man, and I love you, there's nothing wrong with this, and if they don't like it, screw them !" you were shocked by his fearless answer, and you felt your heart melt again. You were definitely madly in love with him.

Yeosang:

He was aware of his jerk attitude, and as much as he felt guilty, he didn't know how to ask for your forgiveness. The members already scolded him for what he had said earlier but he knew better than anyone that you weren't ready to talk with. You were the type to be angry for a while, not letting space for any peaceful conversation until you'd calm down. He overthought for a while, thinking you'd probably dump him now and he wouldn't see you ever again, or you'd be so mad at him you'd just beat his ass. Tormented, Yunho looked at his friend before saying, not really sure to mingle in his friend's love problems: "Yeosang, I'm not sure about her being mad, I think she's ...sad ?" he said cautiously, nervous about Yeosang's answer. Sad ? He was really dumb. Of course you'd not be mad, or at least not as much as sad. After all he saw you crying when you left, and his motto was all ruined at this moment. "You're right...I should go see her." he said flatly, feeling really bad. "Huh, yeah I don't even understand why you're still here to be honest" said Yunho with a smile. Thanks to him, Yeosang found the courage to go to your apartment, with your favorite pastry from the bakery you both liked to go, and...flowers. Yeosang wasn't the type to make such lovey dovey stuffs, but this time it was important. Inhaling deeply in front of your door, he knocked once, shyly, not sure if you'd hear it. Then he knocked more frankly before hearing footsteps from behind the door and before he knew it, you were standing in front of him as much surprised as he was. "...What are you doing here ?" you asked, rather coldly. He cleared his throat before handling you shyly the flowers. "I...I came to apologise. I've been a real jerk to you earlier...I even promised myself I'd never make you cry, but I failed miserably" he said in a go, probably too embarrassed to say it confidently. There is a silence, as you fix your eyes on your shy boyfriend. Suddenly you wanted to laugh. How laughable it was to see Yeosang acts like he never did before. You can't bear it anymore and just burst out of laugh, laughing so much that you have to hold your hurting belly. Visibly confused, Yeosang frowned a bit. Why were you laughing ? "Oh my god...You're really something else" you said, calming down slowly before taking the flowers. He suddenly lifted his head in hope. "Does it mean you're forgiving me ?" You faked you're still thinking about it, humming in an exaggerate way. "Well, only if you let me eat this" you nudged your chin to the box he was carrying and which you spotted immediately before he gave you the flower. He smiled and shook his head. "Alright, it's all for you then"

San:

He had definitely crossed a line he shouldn't had. After you slammed the door at his nose, he tried to make you open it for a while, but you never opened it again. So he left, defeated. It was supposed to be a romantic moment for both of you since a while, and yet he ruined everything with his mouth. Sometimes he wished he just could rewind and change every thing. Even if he didn't like the dress, he could have accepted it since you were happy, but his selfishness and jealousy got over it and now he was alone, in his car without you. He took his phone, sending you texts. "Babe, I'm sorry, please, you know I didn't really mean it right ?" or "Please answer me, I'm really sorry." etc, but you didn't even open them since they were still on sent. Instead of going back to his dorm, he tried to call you this time. On the fifth time, he let a voice mail, taking a long breath before the beep. "Y/N, I'm really sorry, I didn't want to ruin our date like this, or just ruin it at all. The truth is...you were so pretty in this dress, so sexy that I don't want other men to see you in this, I wanted to be the only one to see you with. You're not a whore, you're not any of this. I'm selfish I know, but please, it's been so long since we went on a date...If you still want to see me...I'll be waiting in front of your building." And he locked his phone, leaning his head on the top of the steering wheel. He didn't know how long he waiting again but he suddenly heard the door of the passenger side opening, making him look at the person who opened it. It was you. With the same dress. He felt his heart stopped as you sat next to him, putting your seatbelt without a word. "Y/N ?" You looked straightforward you, and said simply. "Let's go, I guess the restaurant is still open" you muffled. He couldn't help but smiled happily as he turned the engine on, taking your hand in his before driving and said. "Thank you Y/N, thank you" and kissed the back of your delicate hand.

Yunho:

Since the incident at the practice room, Yunho didn't hear from you for a while. Hongjoong particularly scolded him about how rude he's been on you while you just wanted to wish them good luck for their performance. He knew it right, but at the moment he couldn't have helped but get angry at you. He knew as well it wasn't so like him to get carried away for nothing, so that's why he didn't really know what to do to make amend for you. He made his mind he would apologise right after their stage for Kingdom even if they boys thought it would be better to do it before. He knew you'd definitely watch them, root for them so he put all of his mind and body in this performance, hoping it would bring him luck. And it did since they snitched 1st place although they started low in the classement. When the MC asked Yunho how he felt about their win, the giant boy just shyly smiled before saying with a trembling voice. "I...It meant a lot for us, and to be able to be first is huge honour. We always want to show our best to our fans, Atiny. But today I...wanted to surpass myself for a certain person." Others groups were chatting among themselves, surprised by Yunho's declaration. Changmin, though he was as surprised as the others still asked professionally. "Oh, who would it be ?" Yunho smiled brightly and said confidently. "Y/N, my girlfriend." Some screams and gasps from shock could be heard in the giant room after Yunho pursued: "She's always been by my side and supports me with the best way she can, but lately...I've not been a good boyfriend to her, that's why I wanted to win, for her, and saying that I love her."

Right after the diffusion of this week episode which you've been watching with your friends, you sobbed like a little girl. How proud you were for your boyfriend, and the only thing you wanted now was to take him in your arms, feeling his arms around you. With shaking hands you took your phone to try to call Yunho, but he wasn't answering your call. That's at this very moment you heard the bell of your door and went for it, not expecting to see your boyfriend at your door. "H-hi" he said shyly. You dropped your phone and jumped directly in his arms, crying again. "You're an idiot Jung Yunho...But I love you". He nuzzled the top of your head as he hugged you back tightly. "I love you too, little one."

Wooyoung:

wede Wooyoung always said honestly what he was thinking, and everyone's used to it, so he thought his remarks about your skill about cooking would pass easily, but he was wrong. At first he didn't understand your reaction, why you left like this as he was only joking, or he thought so. Seonghwa nagged at him after you left, saying how rude he's been and at least he could shut his mouth. He felt really guilty. He was the one who made you loose confidence about you, when he knew you're always trying your best. And this time, he really screwed things up. Worst than this, when he ate the cake you'd made, he realised it was really good, and his unfounded claims were really mean. Gathering his courage, he showed up at your workplace, waiting for you at the exit. At first, you didn't want to see him, you haven't digested yet what he'd said to you. But with an expressionless face, you finally appeared in front of him. "Y/N- listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said those horrible jokes. No, I mean, I didn't mean what I said, the cake was really good." he tried to say quickly, afraid you'd just brush him away. After listening to his words, you just sighed and said "You're really a jerk sometimes you know that ? Maybe I'm not good at some things, but it doesn't give you the right to bash me out like this in front of everyone. Do you understand Wooyoung ?" he looked down at his feet and nodded, muttering "I'm sorry". "Fine, if you're really sorry, you better cook something too" you smirked, a sign from you that you're half forgiving him. "What ? Wait-" he looked at you astonished. "I don't know what to cook" "Huh, well not my problem" you sticked your tongue out to him and caught his arm in yours.

Mingi:

Mingi's been aware that his words probably upset you. But he needed to find himself again, to get right on tracks by himself even if he was thankful towards you, taking care of him for so long and everything. But he felt like it was his duty to make his comeback to the team his, from A to Z. He hoped you would understand, but after you left him alone, he felt guilty to suddenly reject you. The first day of his comeback into the team, Mingi felt really nervous. He wished he could call you and talk to you as he used to, but since that day he didn't dare to contact you. Instead he sent you a long message, saying how much he missed you and felt really nervous. That he was sorry for what he's said and how much you counted for him. He knew deep inside his mind that you had understood his reasons to act this way, and he was right. After reading his text, you couldn't help but fall in love all over again for Mingi. He was so sweet and pure that you couldn't hold grudges against him. You texted back saying "Everything's gonna be alright. Fighting ! I love you" which reassured the rapper.

Jongho:

Although Jongho was the youngest from the team, he was really mature and hated childish behaviour when it comes for his relationship. The fact you got jealous and as a result, acted this way got him angry. For him, the fact he was dating you was a proof of his choice, and love. Things weren't bad with his ex, so he didn't see why he would cut the rope from her, and he expected you to understand his point of view. After calming down on his own, he also realised his reaction must not have been mature as well. He took more time to think about how he was going to reconcile with you, but things shouldn't stay this way. He expected you to be at your place, and directly knocked at the door, feeling nervous. "Y/N ?" he called out for you. It took a moment before you opened the door, clearly still furious about what happened earlier. "What ? Aren't you with Mina yet ?" you spatted out, maybe too agressive than you wished. Jongho took on himself not to react to this again, instead sighing softly. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted this way." he began, trying to be the most sincere he was. "You're the only one for me, you know it right ? But you see, Mina is indeed my ex, but it doesn't mean I'm on bad terms with her, and it also means that nothing will happen with her anymore. Because I love you so much and no one else"

[chudleycanonficfest]

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding. 

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend. 

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis. 

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd. 

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face. 

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender. 

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her. 

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes. 

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head. 

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me. 

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?” 

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go. 

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?” 

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand. 

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs. 

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?” 

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest. 

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?” 

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body. 

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant. 

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

[secretkeeper13]

Name

A year ago today, after a few months of lurking on Ao3 and Tumblr and reading without an account, I posted my first fic. I don’t know what possessed me to start writing. I think I was so desperate for some sort of creative outlet in the monotony of quarantine life that when I got an idea, I wrote it down. And here I am a year later, still writing, though not as frequently as I’d like. Thank you @thedistantdusk, queen beta, for all your help. To all the funny, lovely people I’ve “met” on Discord, thanks for brightening the past year. And thank you to everyone who read and commented on my fics.  I truly appreciate you all!  

A little (belated) Harry birthday fic below the cut or on Ao3

For many years, Harry hated summer. Summer was loneliness and boredom, monotony punctuated by growls from his stomach or his aunt’s shouts. Summer was endless daylight that stretched and languished well into the night, mocking him, a prisoner in his bedroom with barred windows. Summer meant isolation, locked doors, tossing and turning alone under damp, sticky sheets.

But what he once loathed had now become his favorite season, when three weeks ago, on the terrace of their garden, under the orange glow of the evening summer sun, he’d dropped to one knee, and with shaking hands, asked Ginny to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, yet part of him still couldn’t believe it- that after everything, horcruxes and hallows, Voldemort and the Forest, she would be walking down the aisle not to a faceless stranger, but to him.  

In their bed later that evening, after a round of private celebration, the sheen of sweat still clinging to their bodies, she’d told him of her idea. A wedding at the Burrow, just family and close friends, and a surprise to all but a handful, planned under the guise of her birthday party. It would keep the press from getting wind of it, she’d said, and with the ink barely dry on Rita Skeeter’s latest “expose” (Ginny plying Harry with love potions in an effort to force him to propose), he’d thought it was a brilliant plan. And secretly, Harry thought that the limited window for Molly to fuss over wedding preparation was a bonus.

“Do you think it’s crazy?” she’d asked, as her fingers traced gentle patterns over his chest. “I know it’s barely a month away.”

“No,” he said, turning his head to kiss her bare shoulder, “I’m chuffed that you can’t wait to marry me, actually.”

She grinned at him, her smile bathed in moonlight. “Afraid I’ll change my mind if we wait too long?”

“Well, love potions don’t last forever, you know. And one of these days I may slip up and forget to put it in your tea.”

“No, no- you’ve got it all wrong,” she teased, jabbing him with her finger. “I’m the one who's dosing you, remember?”

“Ah, but Rita Skeeter never gets it right, you know that,” he replied, smirking at her through the darkness.

She’d thrown her head back as she laughed, that beautiful sound echoing in the stillness, then kissed him again, and he wondered, for the thousandth time, how he’d gotten this lucky.

And now, three weeks later, on the morning of his birthday, still enjoying the glow of their secret engagement, he sat on the sofa leafing through the sports pages of the paper when Ginny’s voice rang out from upstairs.

“Harry, will you come up here for a moment?”

“Be right up,” he called back. Assuming it was something to do with the wedding, he climbed the stairs and entered their bedroom. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

Ginny stood near the foot of the bed, wearing only a Harpies jersey, her long hair swept over one shoulder, the bare skin of her other shoulder peeking out on the other side. The jersey was clearly his, as it hung on her like a dress, ending just below her bum, revealing almost all of her legs. At the sight of her, his eyes went wide and his jaw slackened instantly.

She grinned at his reaction. “Happy birthday.”

“I’ll say,” he replied, his eyes trailing down her legs, the creamy skin peppered with freckles.

She took a step closer, closing the gap between them. “I’m wearing your present,” she said, and he could tell that she was trying to sound nonchalant as she ran her hand lightly down his chest, pausing tantalizingly over the waistband of his joggers. “But I thought you’d prefer to unwrap it this way.”

“You thought right.”

He kissed her softly, his lips sliding over hers, his hands cradling her face. “Thank you,” he murmured, his lips moving to graze the shell of her ear, “I’ve been needing a new one, the old one is looking a bit worn.”  

Before he could begin to move his lips down her neck, she pulled back slightly. She looked up at him, still grinning, her eyes glinting in the soft morning light. “That wasn’t why I got it for you.”

“Well, you know I’ve got a thing for you in your uniform,” he replied, leaning down for another kiss, but she put her hand lightly on his chest to stop him.

“I know- but that isn’t why either.” Her smile was so wide that her eyes crinkled at the corners. She was clearly enjoying this.

“I got it because…” She paused as she took a step back, positively beaming at him now. “You’ll be needing a jersey with my new name.”

At that, she turned so her back was facing him. And there, in bold, gold letters, the name POTTER was emblazoned above Ginny’s number.

He was stunned. They’d never discussed Ginny changing her name. He hadn’t even thought about it in the whirlwind weeks of their engagement. He’d simply assumed, given her career (not to mention her fierce sense of independence) that she would keep hers. It certainly didn’t matter to him- she’d said yes to marrying him, that was all that was important.

“Surprised?” Ginny asked.

“I, erm… yeah,” he replied, unable to form a coherent sentence as his mind raced to try to process it all.

For the first eleven years of his life, his name was delightfully ordinary. His aunt once said his name was common , the word dripping with disdain, as if it was the most grievous insult she could bestow. Her implication aside, it was true that his name wasn’t unusual. There was another Harry in his primary school. He’d seen other Potters, too. Once in the clinic, the nurse called out for “Mr. Potter,” and an elderly man rose as Harry stood.  After the man smiled kindly at him and shuffled into the corridor, he’d asked Petunia innocently if the man was a relative. In response, she’d scoffed and told Harry that if he had other relatives, he certainly wouldn’t be living with her.

When he entered the wizarding world, his name ceased to be ordinary, transformed, like everything in his life, on that fateful day of his eleventh birthday. From then on, his name was notorious. It was whispered unsubtly as he walked down the corridors of Hogwarts. It was splashed across headlines in the Prophet. It was jeered by Death Eaters. Far too often, it was said with a reverence that made him exceedingly uncomfortable.  

The thought of Ginny taking his name, and all that came with it, overwhelmed him. A lump began to form in his throat. He swallowed quickly, trying to compose himself, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Love- are you all right?” she said, turning back around to face him.

“I… yeah,” was all he could manage, his voice cracking.

She placed her arms around him gently, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m just s-surprised,” he stammered. “We hadn’t talked   about it, and Hermione’s always going on about how it’s sexist that the woman is expected to take the man’s name. And you’ve worked so hard to make a name for yourself in Quidditch. And you know, er, feminism and all…” He trailed off, aware he was rambling.

She smiled, pulling back slightly so she could look up at him. “Well first, Hermione’s right. It is sexist that it’s assumed that a wife will take her husband’s name. But I think it’s quite clear from your reaction that you didn’t expect me to or assume I would. Right?” She raised her brow.

“Of course I didn’t. It’s fine if you want to keep yours, really.”

“But I don’t,” she said, her voice firm and clear. “Plus, I  think there’s plenty of Weasleys to carry on the family name without me, yeah?”

“I know, it’s just…” He swallowed, the lump in his throat growing larger. “My name- it’s a lot. And I’d understand if you didn’t want to take that on.”

She slipped her arms around him again, pulling herself to him until she was flush to his chest. “Harry,” she said, her tone soothing, her voice reverberating on his chest, “we’ve been together since I was fifteen. I understand everything that comes with the name Potter. And that’s why I want to do this, why I’m choosing to do this- I thought it might be nice if you had someone, family, to share that with. I think that sometimes it's lonely for you, being the only Potter, and I never want you to feel alone.”

She hugged him tightly. He inhaled, his breath shaky, as he let himself sink into her embrace. Seeing her in that jersey, knowing that she wanted to take his name, that they would be united together, permanently- he was overcome. He blinked rapidly and bit his bottom lip, squeezing her back tightly, determined not to spoil the moment.

As his racing heart slowed and he composed himself, he gently tipped her chin up to look at her.

“Gin,” he said, his tone soft and earnest, “I’d love nothing more than to share my name with you. I just don’t want you to feel obligated. We could double-barrell, if you wanted-“

She rolled her eyes, “I’d prefer if our children didn’t sound like posh twats every time they introduced themselves, thanks.”

He laughed, then realized- “Our children?”

She nodded and looked up at him through her lashes. “We have talked about that, you know.”

He felt as if he would burst from happiness. He leaned down and kissed her, trying with all his might to put into the kiss what he couldn’t find the words to say, to tell her, with his mouth and the trace of his tongue, how much this meant to him.

She sighed as they broke apart. “I take this to mean you’re happy that in a week I’ll be Ginny Potter?”

“Yes. Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it, really. Honestly, I’m so thrilled that you’re marrying me, it wouldn't matter what name you’d chosen.”

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “In that case, I take it all back. I’m going by Ida.”

“Ida?”

“Yes, Ida Shaggem.”

He burst into laughter.

“No?” she feigned, mirth evident in her tone. “What about Anita Hardone?”

He was laughing so hard now that his shoulders shook.

Her smile grew wider and she bit her lip (he could tell she was trying very hard to keep from laughing). “Well then, I guess Ginny Potter it is.”

She burst into laughter and he pulled her to him, holding her tightly as he walked her backwards towards the bed, both of them still laughing, nearly breathless.

As they reached the end of the bed, her hands grasped the hem of the jersey to pull it off.

“Oh no,” he gasped, still trying to stop laughing. “You’re definitely leaving that on.”

[autumnsart22]

Flower Shop: Giyu Tomioka x reader

Wow I didn’t mean for this to end up so angsty  😭😭😭 Enjoy I guess?

Artwork I did recently 🤪Follow my Tik Tok @ autumnsart2 for more!

1 and a half years ago: 

Giyu Tamioka stood at the entrance to a medium sized village, watching as carts and horses moved past on the dirt road leading into the main square. It was market day, and the sky was perfectly clear, meaning that the town was packed with villagers and travellers looking to exchange goods and stories. 

As a new member of the Demon Slayer corps, Giyu had been given the simple task of tracking down a demon terrorizing a village a few days ride from him, and he had travelled all night in an effort to reach the town faster. But unfortunately now he was exhausted, and he wasn’t sure he could travel any farther even if he pushed himself. It would do more harm than good anyway. 

Which is how the demon slayer found himself at the center of the village, searching for a cheap food stand and a place to spend the night. Most of the villagers recognized a new traveller when they saw one, trying to trick him out of his money by overcharging for goods that were worth far less. 

Giyu was in the middle of haggling with an older woman over the price of a pear when he heard the sound of bright laughter across the square. He had never heard a lovelier sound. 

Immediately, his head whipped up and he searched you out in the crowd, his eyes resting on your face the moment he spotted you. Ever since he had begun his battle against the demons, he hadn’t been able to find it in himself to smile, let alone laugh. But you were so pretty, even as you hunched over, clutching your stomach and wheezing. 

“Never mind,” Giyu said to the owner of the pear, turning away and striding off without looking at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing as he circled the square and headed towards your booth, which was a flower stand. 

This isn’t part of the mission, he wanted to yell at himself, but the voice immediately went silent as you met his eyes. 

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You asked, smiling brightly at the strange, handsome man. 

“I’m looking to buy some flowers.” He was not in fact looking to buy some flowers, and he knew he shouldn’t waste his precious coins on something so useless. But your eyes brightened, and you immediately began to assess the buds as you searched for something he would like. 

“Is it for a lover? Wife?” You asked, glancing at him. 

“No.” Giyu responded a little too quickly. “My...mother.” 

Your eyes flickered over him, eyebrows going up as you noticed the hilt of his sword peeking from beneath his coat. “You don’t seem like you’re from around here.” 

Giyu shifted, his jaw clenching as he covered the sword once again with his jacket. “I’m not.” 

You smiled slyly, resting your chin on your hands as you gazed at him. “Hmm… mysterious. I like it.” 

He blinked, surprised by your forwardness, but you were already turning away before he could respond. 

“Do you know what kind of flowers your mother likes?” 

“Erm. You can just choose your favorites.” 

Your face lit up once again, and Giyu was momentarily blinded. “That’s ok?” 

“Yes.”

You began to hum as you worked, plucking flowers from different baskets, bunching them together and expertly tying them with ribbon. As you worked, Giyu admired the delicacy of your hands, the exact opposite of his. You didn’t seem weak; your strength just seemed to lie outside of the realm of physical combat. 

“Finished,” you announced, holding up the bouquet. “Is this ok?” 

“Yes, that looks wonderful.” 

He bowed his head in thanks, before passing you a few coins and heading away hurriedly, clutching the flowers. You gazed after him, feeling slightly disappointed as he disappeared into the crowd. You had been hoping you’d get a chance to talk to him, ask him about where he was from and why he was carrying a sword with him. Oh well. 

Giyu’s heart was racing as he stopped behind a building, the flowers clasped against his chest. He shouldn’t have bought them...it was stupid. And he had acted foolishly too, practically running for it before he could really say anything to you. Idiot.

The rest of the market passed quickly, and you sold another dozen bouquets to travellers and villagers as the sun set slowly behind the thatched houses. The square emptied, and you began to pack up all your flowers and close your stand for the night, laying everything out neatly in preparation for the next day.

You raised your eyebrows as you noticed the man from earlier sitting by the fountain, still holding the flowers you gave him as he stared distantly at a stand selling Takoyaki. Was he hungry? 

You sighed, glancing at the coins you had made today, and headed for the stand. You had finished closing your shop, so you didn’t hesitate to buy a plate before heading for the fountain where the man with the sword sat. 

“Hi,” you said, smiling brightly. 

Giyu glanced at you in surprise, taken aback by your sudden appearance. “Hello.” 

“You looked hungry.” You held out the Takoyaki, and Giyu’s mouth opened slightly. 

“I...can’t accept this.” 

“Why not? You bought my flowers instead of something to eat, so it’s the least I could do.” 

He looked like he was going to protest again, but you sat down next to him and shoved the plate in his direction. “Just take them.” 

Giyu sighed, but he took the food you offered and began to eat it quietly while you surveyed him. 

“So, how long are you staying here for?” “Just the night. I’m leave in the morning.” He cleared his throat before reaching for another fried ball. 

“Where are you headed?”

“The next village over.” 

“You have business there?” 

So many questions. Giyu glanced at you, automatic suspicious rising in his mind, but all he saw in your gaze was genuine curiosity. 

“Yes,” he said finally, and you laughed. 

“Whatever you’re doing must be a secret then, huh?” You glanced at his sword, and Giyu shrugged. 

“You could say that.” 

“I’m sorry to bother you then,” you said, getting to your feet. You hadn’t meant to intrude on whatever business he had, and you figured it was probably time for you to make your leave. 

“Wait,” Giyu said, reaching out and snatching your wrist. “I’m...sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“You weren’t! I just don’t want to infringe...” 

“It’s fine.” Giyu was cursing himself soundly in his head, wishing he knew how to make you stay, wishing he wasn’t so harsh. “Uh--” 

Without thinking, he raised the bouquet of flowers and held them out to you. “These are actually for you.” 

You blinked, surprise crossing your features before a slow smile spread across your face. “How did you know all my favorite flowers?” You said with a smirk, and Giyu crossed his arms. 

“Got lucky.” 

“Well whoever made this bouquet must be quite talented.” 

“Very much so.” 

“What happened to your mother?” 

“She...doesn’t need them.” Giyu could feel his face getting hot, even though his expression remained blank. 

You covered your mouth to muffle your snort, but Giyu still glared in embarrassment. 

“Well, thank you Mr….” You paused. 

“Giyu Tomioka.” 

“Mr. Tomioka. I’m Y/n L/n.” 

He nodded, a small smile coming to his mouth. You were taken aback by how much lighter it made his face look, and suddenly you wanted to make him smile like that all the time. 

“It’s nice to meet you Y/n. You can just call me Giyu.” 

Present: 

Giyu sprinted through the forest, the dark trees a blur around him as he made his way closer to where he could see smoke rising in the distance. He could barely think through his panic, but he forced it down down down, down into the very corners of his mind. He had fought dozens, maybe hundreds of demons in his time as a Demon Slayer, and this fight was no different. 

Except that it was.  

You were down there. 

Giyu crested the hill and felt his heart practically stop in his chest. The village he had come to love so much, where he hoped he could eventually settle down and raise a family...it was all on fire. Screams of terror floated to him on the breeze, as well as the horrible sound of crashing as buildings were torn to bits. 

Giyu forced himself to move, running down the street and ignoring the flames on either side, despite how badly he wanted to search for you in the devastated buildings.

He skidded into the main square and felt his heart drop into his toes. Bodies littered the area, illuminated in the hellish red glow from the fire. He felt his chest squeeze as he noticed a familiar cart, it’s flowers smashed and ruined across the street. 

No. No. 

He ran, scanning the bodies as he went, feeling sick at the relief that spread through him when he didn’t see your familiar hair. But the wind changed and suddenly he could feel the monster, only a hundred feet away, it’s shadow filling up the entire block. Giyu felt his heart slow as he saw you, too, terrified and trembling even as you kept your arms spread out to protect the small child cowering behind you. 

He didn’t think, only lunged. He would keep you safe, he had sworn to keep you safe. 

You had laughed at him when he had promised that, kissing him lightly before cupping his cheeks. 

I believe you, you had said. 

His sword was drawn, flying through the air faster than the wind as he jumped at the massive demon. It snarled furiously as his weapon cut through it’s arm, sending black blood spraying. You cowered, dragging the child back from the carnage as your eyes met his across the street. Terror filled them, but determination too. Fight, you seemed to whisper. 

So he did--

And yet it wasn’t enough. 

This demon was stronger than any he had faced before, and a Demon Slayer of a much higher rank was supposed to be here to face it. But when he heard it was this village in danger, he hadn’t even paused to think. He didn’t even care if he died, as long as you got away safely. 

The monster chuckled lightly, it’s red eyes blazing against the darkness of the sky and smoke. “It’s going to be fun to eat you,” it snarled, and Giyu readied his sword even as exhaustion tugged at him. 

It’s massive claw lifted to chop him in two, and suddenly he saw a flicker of movement off to the side. You held a broken piece of wood, brandishing it just like he had taught you after you had asked to learn to fight. Your form was perfect as you slammed the wood against the demon’s hand, making him roar loud enough to shake the earth, and it gave him enough time to roll out of the way. 

But then you had the demon’s full attention, and Giyu couldn’t do anything as it slammed it’s fist into your side so hard that you collided with the opposite building, not moving as debri rained down around you. 

Giyu went blind with fury and terror. 

You were fine, you were still alive. 

He blinked, and the demon’s head was rolling away like a disgusting, bloody ball. He couldn’t even remember killing it, and he didn’t care as he turned and sprinted to your side. 

You were utterly still, curling beneath a small pile of rubble as blood trickled from your temple. Giyu panted as he dragged you from the wreckage, desperately feeling along your neck, your wrist. 

“Why did you do that?” He half sobbed, entire body shaking. You didn’t answer, didn’t even breathe. 

Giyu held your head, stroking your hair, waiting for you to wake up. You would probably laugh at him, hug him tightly and tell him everything was fine. He would be able to buy you the sugary pastries you liked, and he wouldn’t bat your hand away when you poked his cheek and told him to smile more. 

“I’ll do anything you want, I’ll smile every day. Just wake up, please, please.” His voice broke. 

You didn’t, and there was no movement beneath his searching fingers. 

The golden ring meant for your finger tumbled from his pocket, and his furious screams filled the night. 

He would kill the demons, every last one.

[souluble]

Hello! Do you think I'm able to request a Yuji Itadori x reader where he visits his civilian s/o (who's just a dumbass hkkjhj) one day after his Jujutsu classes only to see his s/o with fairly powerful curse. He finds out his s/o is able to see curses and the powerful curse is protective of the reader and the had reader taken in the curse as her son.

✧Fic✧

Itadori Yuji

✧A/N: I love this request so much omg!! THIS had me rushing to get my work done ♡I hope you don’t mind I made this kinda long! ♡

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

✧ Maneuvering his way through the crowded streets and spewing out apologizes left and right Itadori back tracked to peer into a bakery window, small portioned pastries and overly decorated cakes all aligned neatly in their respective slots. Pressing his forehead into the glass his eyes glanced over the labels in search of your favorite cake, just a slice to make up for his tardiness. 

__

Glancing towards your phone with puffed cheeks you repeatedly pressed the power button with hopes it would somehow speed up the clock, “He’s late” your reflection in the dark screen stared back at you with squinted eyes and furrowed brows. You understood he had curses and such to tend to but this time he had promised, pinky promised, to be on time for your weekly date. Rising from your spot on the park bench you brushed away imaginary dust and stuffed your phone into your pocket, fighting the urge to send another ‘where are you?’ text.

 Maybe waiting by the park entrance would be a better idea? Watching other couples pass by you with linked arms you couldn’t help but stare at the misshaped animal that rested on a young woman's shoulder. Biting back the urge to ask what in the world that thing was you turned your head away with false disinterest and speed walked away.

Turning on your heels you marched up to the nicely dressed couple and tapped lightly on the girls shoulder, “Erm excuse me, what animal is that?” directing your gaze towards her shoulder you watched the animal(?) turn its pinkish head towards you, two wide piercing black eyes gazed into your curious ones.

“I’m sorry? I don’t have an animal with me..” taking a step away from you with tensed shoulders you watched her roll her arm around with a pained expression.

“I mean it doesn’t really look like an animal anyways. Then what’s that thing on your shoulder?”

“My shoulder? There's nothing on my shoulder”

With a loud sigh you rolled your eyes and reached out to grab the thing that apparently she couldn't see, it was surprisingly heavy and had you hunching over to try to get a proper grip. A light gasp sounded from the girl as she rubbed her shoulder, “The pains gone! What did you do?”

“I just took that thing off your shoulder..”

“Ahh well thank you?”

Latching onto the boy next to her she directed him away from you with a distraught look on her features. A loud cry had you dropping the thing in your hands, as an even louder cry sounded as it hit the ground with a loud thud, guilt panged your heart at the pained noise.

“Are you ok? Little thing..?” 

Falling to your knees you ran your fingers lightly over the top of its round head, it felt soft oddly enough. You racked your brain trying to remember if there was some type of pink round animal, “What are you?” all you got for a response was a quiet whimper but what did you expect?

Opening your palms you half-heartedly expected for it to waddle into your hold or something but with a loud laugh you watched it roll around aimlessly before finding its way onto your awaiting palms.

A loud huff had you standing up to see Itadori panting heavily with his hands resting on his knees “Y/N! I'm sorry I'm late please don't be mad! I brought cake too as an apology” 

“Yuji look!”

Turning around with a blinding smile you pushed the pink ball into Itadoris face, “Isn’t it the cutest? I was thinking of naming it Sakura or something cute like that!”

No. It was not cute at all. Slanted eyes glared at Itadori as its presence double in size, baring its row of sharp teeth Itadori gulped at the guttural growl it directed towards him. Reacting purely on instinct he focused energy into his fists and threw a hard punch at Sakura while you stood in shock, his punch was directed back at him while the ball bounced happily in your palms.

“WOW! Your really strong huh Sakura?” 

“Y/N that's a curse, drop it and I’ll exorcise it right here!”

Shaking your head rapidly you pulled Sakura into your chest, “Yuji no how can you hurt such a cute thing?”

“It doesn't matter if its cute its a curse!”

“Drop It.”

“NO, your being unreasonable”

“Unreasonable? It might hurt you!”

“Sakura wouldn’t hurt anyone, right Sakura?” there was a babying tone to your voice as you nuzzled your cheek against Sakuras who let out a pleased noise at the affection it was given.

“Y/N please just let me exorcise it! I’m begging you please drop that curse”

“What a predicament. How about... I personally look over Sakura so it doesn’t hurt anyone!”

Shoving his head into his hands Itadori let out a loud groan at your stubbornness while you let out a string of praises directed towards the docile curse. Despite its ‘cute’ appearance Itadori could tell by the massive amounts of cursed energy radiating off that the tiny curse was undoubtedly powerful. Even Sukuna was gnawing at him to let him out and exorcise the retched thing himself.

There was an undeniable uncertainty at the thought of you keeping it. Whyd you have to go and name it? It’s so much easier to get attached to something you name. Your pleading eyes and pouting lip had him thinking with his heart instead of his brain, “I.. I guess we can keep it”

Pulling him into your embrace Itadori shivered at the malicious glare Sakura was giving him, he feared if he got to close it would bite his head off. Literally.

“We’re like a little family now!”

Oh gosh, what had he gotten himself into?

[m00ns0ng]

Season’s Cummings

As part of the Citrus Dome Server Collab!!

Check out the other pieces here~

The Prompt:

The local news station hailed it as “the storm of the century,” and they weren’t wrong. You’ve watched the snow pile up beyond the window, building from a light dusting on the grass to literal knee-high drifts. And it shows no sign of stopping.

The place you’re stranded is stocked up on groceries, you’d charged every electronic device to your name, and you’d cranked the thermostat as high as it would go until the inevitable happens —

The power goes out.

So now you’re stuck indoors, with only a certain someone for company. The same someone you’ve been pining after for ages. Snow stacks up higher and higher outside. As the cold seeps in, and you both drift closer, you realize this was somehow the one thing you hadn’t thought to prepare for…

Pairings: Aged-up/Prohero Mineta Minoru/f!Reader

Tags: Uhh, it’s Mineta, senpai/kohai kink, generous amounts of drool, pretty vanilla sex, a little bit of feral sex, two horny gremlins mating, once again this is age-up Mineta

“Erm. Grape Juice-senpai, are you sure we’re prepared enough for this?” You eye the lounging prohero, also noting the growing pile of snow in front of the window behind him. Not only that, wind was howling outside and you could occasionally see the window frosting over. It was a bit frightening. 

The Prohero Grape Juice, also known as Mineta Minoru, as well as your boss, waves a hand, looking far too lax for the situation. “Hehe, well. I know we’d be a bit snowed in, didn’t think it’d be so…much though.” He frowned and glanced behind himself, before turning back towards you with a leer. “But hey, if it gets too cold, we can just cuddle up for warmth!” His eyes glazed over and you’re pretty sure you see drool. When one of his hands starts to drift down his chest is when you abruptly turn around to smack your cheeks. 

Okay, so sue you. You actually liked your lecherous and amorous-inclined boss. When you shyly admitted to your friends that you imagined fucking this bozo of a Prohero, they laughed at you. And if you were in their place, you’d do the same. But damn it, something about him did it for you. Or maybe you had a case of hero worship. He did save you after all. Though he might not remember it, you very much did. And ever since you joined his agency, you got to see sides of him that most others didn’t. After joining UA, you were told about how amazing Class 1A was, and you always felt so awed by them and their impact. 

He wasn’t just a pervert and a flirt, he was also someone that wouldn’t hesitate to save others, like a real hero. And he was short, which was totally your type. 

Taking a deep breath, you whirled back around to face your boss. Rather than pleasuring himself like his movements would have made you believe, he was on his phone, most likely checking his feed. You made your way to the snack corner. You had both come to this small town in search of some mid-tier villain that was trying to hit small businesses and then leave the city. Due to the fierce weather however, you and Grape Juice’s main priority was to check in to the surprisingly nice hotel you got to stay in for free. While it was worrying, you figured that the villain wouldn’t be able to go anywhere either. Especially now. 

When you thought about the whole situation, the fact that you were both snowed in had to mean something.

This is my chance, you thought, securing your favorite brand of chips and a water bottle. For now, you would calm your hormones a bit and chill. Until the boss said so, you were still on company hours, which meant tracking and making sure you guys wouldn’t fail this mission. It’d be embarrassing and demoralizing to have lost to bad weather conditions. After all, Pro Hero Deku wouldn’t let the horrid, freezing weather stop him (for better or worse). If Grape Juice failed to capture such a mid-tier villain, it would tank his reputation, as well as yours.

You grabbed the remote, turned to the news and grabbed your phone. Not that you expected much from the latter. The wifi in this place could be better, and your data wasn’t faring well either.

“Oh hey, you’re actually doing something useful! See, hehe, this is why you’re my favorite sidekick.” Grape Juice rolled himself to the edge of his bed, looking oddly cute as he tugged his comforter with him to look like a grape burrito. “If you can, put a marker for our log in and-”

“Already done, senpai! Just getting the weather report for now. We’ll need to see if we’ll be able to patrol later on tonight.” This was good. When you guys were interacting like the professional heroes you were instead of friends after work, it became easier to actually look him in the eye without fantasizing about him between your legs. “Though truth be told, I’d rather not haha. It’s…going to be so cold.” You curled in on yourself just at the thought. 

“Hmm.” When you looked up, you noticed Grape Juice was staring at you with narrowed, unreadable eyes, but then quickly switched his attention to the news report. Rather than analyze his weirdness, you also chose to focus on the news.

“…And we’re hearing that the snowstorm is going to worsen the more the night drags on. How upsetting for those out looking for some nice snow festivities.” Hmph, not surprising. Thankfully, you guys were staying at a pretty nice hotel, with room service and everything. “No, actually…We’re receiving word that this just may be the storm of the century, folks. With inches of snow piling up by the minutes.” 

What? You furrowed your brow and looked out the window just in time to see the last bits of twilight disappear behind snow. “What?!” You leapt up from the bed and went to the window. You swore you could hear the window itself creaking from the amount of snow piled onto it. Which was a horrifying thought, because… because you and Grape Juice were on the third floor. This could not be happening. 

“Well,” Grape Juice pushed himself up on his knees. You tried not to notice how he only came up to your collarbone because of that. You couldn’t help but notice all the cute things about him. And Grape Juice outside of his ridiculous hero costume was really, really cute. He had the style, the smug swagger, and the sexual intensity of a horny, touch-starved gremlin. And you would deliver the touch he so desperately wanted. “At least we’re good here! Heh, can’t say the same for that villain though. Probably shaking in their boots. Literally!” 

You let his bravado wash over you, slumping your shoulders in relief. “To be real with you, I’m also shaking in my boots. But from the cold! Ya know?” You gave him a nervous smile and skipped back to your bed. “I’m surprised you’re okay with wearing just a t-shirt and shorts right now.”

“It’s because I’m a Pro!” He threw the comforter off of himself and proudly thrust his arms out. “And I’m your boss. What kind of example would I be setting if I was heavily decked out in winter gear?” 

“A responsible one..?” You stared at him in confusion, and went back to eating your snacks. “I mean, you’re not like Shouto.” Fuck, he might take that the wrong way. “N-not that I mean any disrespect, senpai!” Grape Juice flinched and then shuddered. And you, you frowned. Had your comment stung that badly? You didn’t really care about the top three Heroes in all honesty. Nothing against them, but nothing from their flashy quirks and intense personalities really appealed to you. 

You turned away from him and adjusted the sleeve of your winter sweater. You could hear him falling back onto his bed. Should you apologize? Or just go back to eating your chips and pretending this moment never happened? Ah, screw this. 

Your butt met the edge of your bed, and you turned your attention back to the news. 

“And that’s not all! We’re hearing that this snowstorm won’t be receding any time soon. How horrifying, haha!” Who on earth laughs at such an abysmal scenario?? You reached around your bed and grabbed your phone. Even though it was fully charged, you couldn’t help but be dismayed at the shitty reception. You huffed, and then turned your ire towards the newscaster. “We hope everyone has been stocking up on resources, because it seems like-” But whatever the newscaster had been going to say was interrupted by the power going out. The loud thrum of the power outage made you pause. And then you jumped up. From somewhere on your left, you heard Grape Juice do the same. 

“Ah…well then.” He let out a nervous chuckle, and then a muffled curse. 

“Senpai? Are you okay?!” You heard him let out a grunt, and then suddenly he was touching you. Or your arms, more specifically. Your breath hitched, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

“Yep! The Prohero Grape Juice can handle the dark.” His hands slipped from your arms to hold onto your hands. “If anything, I should be asking if you’re okay!”

You smiled. “I’m perfectly fine, senpai. But um, what are we going to do now?” His hand clenched down on yours, and you swore you could see something dark cross over his eyes, before he abruptly turned away from you. 

“Can’t do it,” You heard him mutter, and your smile fell away.

“Mm? Can’t do what, senpai?” You moved to stand in front of him again, tilting your head this way and that, but you couldn’t catch his eyes. “You know, if there’s a-anything you want from me, just ask! I’ll be happy to provide.” You reached out a hand again to at least provide some physical comfort, but he jumped out of the way before you could.

“Anything, huh?” He finally met your eyes, and you blinked at the sheer intensity in his gaze. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Don’t you know that a guy like me enjoys it a bit too much?!”

Silence.

Well, partial silence. You could still hear the wind howling outside. But you were more focused on dissecting what you just heard. He liked it when you called him senpai? This whole time…

You licked your lips. “What if,” There’s no going back now. “What if I also like you, senpai?”

Of all the reactions you were expecting, him glaring wasn’t one of them. “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of stuff. I get it, I’m a lame Pro, but I still have feelings!”

“I do like you like though?” Fuck, you hadn’t meant to phrase it as a question. So you pushed forward. “I mean it! You’re the one I looked up to whenever I would hear about your class! And it’s your agency I wanted to join once I graduated!” By now, you were so close to him that he had no choice but to look at you, and the shadows on his face stood out.

But rather than get angrier, he blinked, and his expression cleared. “Ah, w-wait! This isn’t a prank or anything, right?! Y-you want me?” You stared at your boss. Really stared at him. He didn’t look like a sex-crazy gremlin, or the slightest bit horny. His eyes had lost their light, his lips were curled down, and he was rubbing his arm. He looked like the Minoru Mineta from the first time you met him, not sure if you actually wanted to join his agency. “I know I’m not the best Pro, or the most virtuous, but.” His brows furrowed, and he looked up at you with a renewed vigor. “But I want to make you feel good, if you’ll let me!” He slammed both his palms together and bowed his head, careful to keep his hair from touching you. 

Something soft filled you, and you reached out a hand, placing it under his chin and tilting his head up. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, senpai.” You smiled brightly. “After all, I chose to work with my cute senpai because I like your work ethic, and your determination. Not everyone wants to be on top!” You let your other hand come up and pet his cheek. “Truth be told, I’ve wanted you for quite some time now, senpai.” His eyes widened, and then watered at an incredible speed. “Aha, wait! Please don’t cry!”

He loudly sniffled. “Man, if I had known that I had a cute little kohai that wanted me from the beginning, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time staring at your fanpages!”

You pulled away to stare down at him. “My what?”

“Anyways!” He practically shouted, “We gonna do this or what?” You smirked and made your way to his bed. 

“Well, I’m happy you asked, Mineta-senpai.” You shimmied out of your pants, then panties. You held your panties up and watched the way Mineta’s eyes tracked them as he jumped onto the bed. “Let’s make this a little fun. If I cum before you do, then you can keep my panties. As a souvenir!” His eyes glazed over, and a copious amount of drool began to slide out of his mouth and pool on the sheets between you both. You tried not to be too bothered. You knew he would be at least a bit filthy, and if all went well, the sheets would be ruined one way or another. 

Mineta took off his clothes with a speed and ferocity that probably should have stunned you. “Lay down, and let your favorite Prohero Grape Juice take care of you!” You giggled and complied, relaxing your arms and legs as you laid out. You let your panties dangle on the tips of your fingers before you dropped them. Mineta immediately situated himself between your legs, muttering to himself. While he did that, you took your shirt and bra off as well. 

You tried your best to keep your breath even, but the moment you felt his touch on your thighs, it hitched. You waited with bated breath for his touch, and when you felt his tongue licking-no, slobbering all over your slit, you squealed. Your legs clamped around his head, but he managed to wriggle his way even closer, tongue circling around your clit before slipping into your opening, and then back again. His tongue was so wet, but once you got past that, you could admit that it also felt good. Relaxing back against the pillows, you spread your legs again and let out a quiet sigh.

Mineta moaned, and the rumble against your clit felt nice enough that you joined him. Soon enough, his fingers joined his tongue, and you panted and squirmed as his fingers-not that long, but definitely thick-thrust in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. “Mm, senpai, you feel so nice.” He leaned forward, his saliva dripping onto your chest, up to your neck, and finally onto your cheeks. 

You were sharing each other’s breath now.

“Haaa, that’s what I should be saying.” His pace quickened, and your pleasure grew. “My cute little kohai is clenching down on my fingers. Clenching down on me.” You panted out as his fingers curled and scissored inside of you. “Ahh, I can’t wait anymore!” He pulled his fingers out of you quickly and you didn’t even get a chance to react before his dick was slipping in. “Forget the stupid bet!” His hands kept a brutal grip on your hips, keeping you in place. Mostly. The power of his thrusts had you slipping up the bed, and you were very grateful the pillows were there.

“O-oh!” Your hands clenched into the bedsheets as he hammered into you. His pace didn’t slow down, and he didn’t relent in his intensity. One of his hands left your hips to slip into your mouth.

“Suck,” He groaned out, and then whined when you obeyed. “Such a good little kohai I have. You’d do anything for your senpai, huh?” He pushed down on your tongue. Even in the dark, you could see his eyes holding lust and a deep admiration. “You, you like me for me. A-and you don’t care about my reputation.” You closed your eyes and bobbed your head on his fingers. He let out another groan, slipping his fingers out of your mouth to rub them on your clit. You arched up and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. You really hoped no one heard that. 

“Are you close, baby? Gonna cum for your favorite Pro? Gonna let me k-keep y-” Mineta curled over you, shoving his face into your chest. “Dammit, how am I supposed to last long when your pussy is clenching down on me like this?!” His pace slowed, his hips jerking at a tell-tale uneven pace. You giggled and leaned down to kiss him. His tongue was in your mouth instantly, running over your teeth, curling around your tongue, and then thrusting in and out. It was sloppy, and with his fingers still on your clit, with him still pressing into you, it was also fucking hot.

You were going to cum, and you didn’t even care. The panties were just an incentive anyways. You got to fuck your senpai, and make him happy. A win-win for the both of you.

You broke away from the kiss, just barely aware of the string of drool that connected your mouths. “Mineta-senpai, I’m going to-”

“Cum?!” His excitement was cute enough that you didn’t mind that he cut you off. You met his thrusts as best as you could rolling your hips so he could fuck that particular spot inside of you that made you toes curl and eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Yes, yes yes yes yes yes!” For a long moment, you felt perfect. The burst of pleasure that rocked your whole body and left you boneless as your senpai kept fucking you, whimpering as he sucked on your tit. Not even your nipple, your tit. You inhaled as he released your hips to wrap his arms around you, and it was only due to his small size that you didn’t mind. Your head fell back, eyesight a bit wonky from the intensity of the orgasm that just rocked through you. Mineta, apparently not yet satisfied, continued thrusting into you, stupidly powerful thrusts making you clench and squeal. “Mineta-senpai, you’re…the best.” 

“Hehe, yeah. I’m the best. I AM THE BEST!” His hands gripped your hips with a newfound ferocity and he flipped you over partially, leaving you confused and a bit dazed in the dark. One of his hands left your hips to grab his dick, and he aimed it right for your fluttering opening. 

“S-senpai, wait,” Your weak cry fell on deaf ears.

“Plus,” The manic drive of a Hero pushed him forward. “ULTRA!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So!” The receptionist gave you a bright smile, “Did you both enjoy your stay at Reaching Heights Hotel?”

You let your (grumpy) silence speak for itself, while Grape Juice sheepishly handed her his card. “It, haha, definitely helped me regain my drive!” The receptionist blinked at him, and then gave him a placid smile that only a front desk attendant could. And his card back. “Soooo thankyounowwehavetogobyeandsorryforthestains!”

You eyed Grape Juice as he turned to scurry away, and kicked your foot out, tripping him. Immediately taking advantage of his disoriented state, you snatched his card up and smirked down at him. You’re not quite sure how you look in that moment, but you are sure you liked that wide-eyed, vulnerable expression on his face. 

“Next time,” You murmur, “I get to be the one on top, squeezing every last drop out of you, senpai.” 

[mshermia]

Meet Cute - Webpril Day 12: Identity Reveal

summary: After Peter's identity is revealed, Tony's new favorite pastime is to tell the story of their first meeting to everyone that would listen. Repeatedly. Peter knows though, that the day Tony came to the apartment to recruit him wasn't really the first time they had met.

Or: Tony finds out that Peter was the kid at the Expo (tumblr prompt)

Read on AO3

###

It was safe to say that nobody had found more enjoyment in Peter's Spider-Man Identity being revealed than Tony.

Over the past few months since Peter's name had been everywhere from newspaper headlines to trending Twitter hashtags, Tony had used every occasion that presented itself to tell one story in particular. A story he had apparently been withholding from the world at great personal suffering.

"To be fair, I was a bit desperate for help so I had to move fast, but honestly..." Tony arched his brows with rehearsed ease. "...it's not like the kid was hard to track down. It was more like he was begging to be found."

It had been embarrassing at first. Well, truth be told it still was, only Peter had grown used to Tony's performance.

Tony sat up a little straighter, gesturing to himself. "I, of course, had been sitting on his aunt's sofa for the better part of half an hour trying to make small talk before Pete even showed up." With an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "On time for once in my life and the kid goes dumpster diving on his way home from school."

Thor held his stomach laughing, at Tony's antics or Peter's own face in reaction to it, Peter wasn't sure. Now that he took the time to look around the group, he did notice that there weren't even any new people present that Tony could try to amuse with the story. No, it was only the team and MJ still standing next to him. They had all heard this story before, but apparently, that wouldn't stop Tony either.

"Of course, you know me, I tried to keep things subtle—"

Natasha huffed out a laugh. "Yes. Don't we all know that side of him... Tony Stark, paragon of subtlety."

But Tony wasn't phased by her interjection, if anything he only raised his voice a little to be heard above her bickering. "I did the whole thing, staring at him intently, winking, as I was laying the foundation with the internship. The kid..." Tony laughed like he just remembered it for the first time. "He was just staring at me like all his dreams had just come true. Well," Tony smirked. "Can't really blame him for that, right."

While Bucky looked a little bored, Sam and Wanda seemed thoroughly amused to hear this story for the umpteenth time.

"Honestly, it was just adorable. His little bambi-eyes widened in awe, sparkling. That little smile on his face... like the sun had come up. It was precious." Tony sighed with overacted bliss. "I don't think even Morgan has ever looked at me with that much adoration."

"Jeezes," Peter mumbled. He sucked in a deep breath, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Hey now..." Tony pointed at him. "Don't give me that look. You know it's true. We were both there."

Peter scratched the back of his neck and met MJ's eyes with a shrug. It's not like she didn't know the story. She might have even been one of the first ones to hear it, years ago, long before the public had known about Peter's secret identity. That was back in the good old days when Tony had had a lot fewer opportunities to tell it.

Just then, Barton walked up, his eyebrows raised. "Man, you still not done? I've heard this story like 50 times."

Tony's head spun towards him. "Listen, for 13 years I had to keep this basically to myself!" He pointed at Peter. "That one should be thanking me for all those years of self-control. It's a miracle that it didn't burst out of me somewhere along the way revealing his big secret."

Rubbing a hand across his face, Peter tried to estimate if a trip to the buffet might take long enough to skip the rest of the retelling. He jerked in surprise as a hand clapped his shoulder.

"Don't feel bad, Pete," Rhodey sighed. "He's majorly embellished the way we met as well."

"That's not really..." Peter scrunched up his nose. "I mean, it's pretty accurate, minus the way he talks about how my 'bambi-eyes widened in awe' when I saw him."

MJ turned to him, eyebrows raised. "That's what you think is embellished? You still look at him like that whenever he enters the room."

"Oh, shut up," Peter mumbled into his drink.

As Rhodey broke out in laughter, MJ moved a little closer. "It's really cute," she whispered in his direction.

Peter frowned, stealing a glance at her. "Huh?"

"You know..." Her hand clasped his, their arms entangled, her voice still low, only for him to hear. "All his teammates had abandoned him, he was separated from the woman he loved, and then he found you and fell in fatherly-love with you. You were like..." She tilted her head a little, before the smile on her lips widened. "...like his life raft. And here he is, bragging about it in front of them. It's adorable."

Peter grimaced, eyes shifting back to Tony. "That's so not..."

He hesitated, not sure what he felt. Tony was just reenacting the part of the story when he had found Peter's suit hidden in the hatch on the ceiling of his bedroom. There was something about the broad smile on Tony's face that Peter couldn't argue away.

"It's adorable," MJ repeated, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah, well..." Maybe... maybe she wasn't wrong. There was something about how much Tony seemed to love to tell the story, not even just when Peter was around. At one dinner party, Peter had walked in on a group of research assistants clinging to every one of Tony's words while he was already in the middle of telling the story. And as much as Tony tried to make it sound like a joke, his eyes were always soft, the smile on his face genuine.

No, MJ wasn't wrong. And Peter couldn't deny that he too enjoyed that part. Not the story, really, but the sense of enjoyment as he watched Tony's animated gesturing. As he watched how content Tony seemed, telling it.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well that might be the reason, I haven't said anything about how this wasn't even the first time we met." 

"Wait a second," Steve called out so loudly, it didn't just stop Tony but every other conversion in the room. He pointed at Peter. "You're telling me I've had to listen to a story that has Tony fawning over how much his kid fawns over him for like 10 times and it's not even true?"

"Er..." Peter's eyes went wide, painfully aware that the attention of the room was suddenly squarely on him. Super-senses were really no fun when you were on this end of it. "I mean, it's just.... I was definitely surprised to see him then..."

"Underoos!" Tony's hand clutched his heart, but his eyes sparkled with humor. "There's no shame in your adoration for your old man. You don't have to lie about how much it meant to you to meet me!"

His lips pursed, cheeks a little hot, Peter shook his head in irritation.

Rhodey frowned at him. "Wait, so you're saying it did happen like that?"

"I mean, yeah..." Peter shrugged, avoiding Tony's eyes. "It's just not like it was the first time I had ever laid eyes on him or whatever."

Next to him, MJ gasped. "Oh please, please tell me that it was at like an autographing session that you camped out in line for!"

"No..." Peter scratched his head.

"Go on, go on." Clint leaned a little towards him now, waving for Peter to continue. "I do want to hear that story!"

Peter's eyes flickered over at Tony but his face had gone blank. He didn't remember. Of course, he didn't. Peter had never expected him to. It had been a long time ago and it would be absurd to think that Tony could have picked him out from a crowd of people like that, that he could remember with all the people he had saved over the years. Peter bit the inside of his cheeks. It wasn't even a great story. In fact, objectively they hadn't met-met then just like... stood close to each other. It didn't even really count and—

"Hey, stop..."

Pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by Tony, Peter looked up, finding everyone's eyes still on himself.

"It's okay, kid." Tony's voice was surprisingly soft. "It's nobody's business, okay? And you..." He pointed at Natasha, no trace of the softness now. "Stop giggling like that, will you?"

"Oh, come on, you're just worried you made an ass of yourself." She leaned back in her chair, head cocked to the side.

"He didn't," Peter swallowed hard. "It wasn't like that, just..." MJ shifted next to him, her hand slipping back into his. "It was just a long time ago and..." He blinked up at Tony. "You wouldn't remember. It's fine. It's not a big deal. Your story is... is a lot more amusing and..."

But Peter still had the room's full attention on him, some eyes now narrowed, some eyebrows raised. His face had only grown hotter to the point that Peter could feel the heat in the tip of his ears.

"Well, erm..." He grimaced, giving in after all. "You, er... you remember the Stark Expo? Few... few years ago."

"Oh, do I..." Rhodey groaned.

"Yeah, well..." Peter struggled not to trip over his own words. "It was that. I... erm... I was there with my uncle and... and that's where I saw Tony for the first time."

There was a moment of silence.

"Yeah, no," Clint called out. "Doesn't count."

"Stop!" Natasha signaled for him to be quiet, then pointed at Peter. "You said met. So, did you see him or did you meet him?"

Peter blew out a low breath. "I mean... it was just... there was a whole lot of stuff going on with Hammer's soldier thing-ys and then stuff started to explode—"

"Hold up." Rhodey sat up straight all of a sudden. "That's the day you were at the Expo with your uncle? The night Vanko tried his little revolt?"

"That wasn't a revolt," Tony interjected, his face a little paler. "He made a bit of a scene, that's all."

Rhodey huffed, then mumbled, "Don't let Pepper hear you call it that."

But Tony's attention was squarely on Peter, along with everyone else's. "You were at the park that night?"

"Wasn't that in like..." Clint looked over at Natasha. "Like, in '09? Or '10?" His eyebrows raised, his gaze shifted back to Peter. "Weren't you like 5 then?"

Peter pulled in a long breath. No longer getting flustered by the other Avengers had taken him some time to learn but now, he had almost mastered it. "I was 8, actually."

Waving both his arms, Rhodey signaled for him to stop. "Let me get this straight. You met him during the attack? But Tony was—" Rhodey stopped himself, then cast a glance at Tony in turn. "That must have been during the evacuation?"

Tony didn't react at all though. He was still looking right at Peter, just sitting there almost eerily quiet.

"Yeah, well..." Peter cringed at the memory. He hadn't even realized then how real it had truly been. It had all seemed like part of the show. "Things got a little crazy and people started running. I lost Ben for a bit." It was easier looking at Rhodey, like he was speaking just to him, not a whole room full of Avengers, including Tony. "One of Hammer's drones landed right where I was standing and then Tony swooped in, came to stand right next to me, and blew that thing to smithereens."

Nobody had to know that Peter had thought it was just a show, raving to Ben about it all the way home.

There was a beat of silence until Clint slapped both his thighs and burst with laughter. "Oh god, that's epic."

Just like that, the rest of the group joined in, exchanging laughs and looks of disbelief.

Steve held out his hands in a futile attempt to shush the chatter and hearty laughter. "That can't be everything. You're trying to tell us, there was nothing dazzlingly smart-ass he said?"

"Well, actually," Peter bit his lip. "He said 'nice one, kid' and then just flew off."

Spluttering with amused laughter, Steve turned to Tony. "Do you even remember that?"

Carefully, Peter glanced over at Tony as well, finding his eyes still waiting. "Hey, if I had a list of all the heroic deeds I've done..." He shrugged, lips pulled into an crooked smile but Peter knew him well enough to recognize that it didn't hold the same ease as it had before.

With a couple more quips from Thor and Clint, the mood in the room quickly shifted back to it's prior camaraderie, but Peter didn't miss it when Tony got up. Without any fuss, he gestured to the door that led out to the balcony. Peter gave MJ's hand a soft squeeze before he followed Tony out there. It was a balmy late August night, the air so much purer, the sky a lot prettier than it was in the city.

Tony had his arms braced against the balustrade, looking up there with the serenity like they hadn't once see space up close and personal.

"Why did you never tell me?"

Peter shrugged as he stepped up next to him. "It's not important, is it? It was so long ago and I knew you wouldn't remember so—"

"Oh, excuse me!" Tony squinted at him from the side. "Who said that I don't remember, huh?" He tilted his head, one eyebrow raised. "Very sneaky by the way to leave out the ultra cool Iron Man mask and gauntlet that you tried to fight the evil robot with."

Peter's jaw dropped. "But... that's impossible."

Lips pulled into a soft smile, Tony looked at him with something in his eyes that had Peter blush once again. "You know, it's pretty adorable that you think I meet a lot of kids who put themselves on the line like that, breakneck as that particular fever dream was. Granted, I didn't put it together until just now but..." Tony blew out a soft laugh as his hand came up, squeezing Peter's shoulder. "Yeah, you really always have been that hero at heart, kid, hm?"

His eyes stung and he looked down at how his hands clasped the railing, trying to blink the emotions away.

The room behind them had gone back to normal. There was roaring laughter from Thor that drew everyone's attention and Tony was good enough to look away as Peter wiped at his eyes.

After a moment of silence, Tony cleared his throat. "I'm gonna petition the court to add this to the rescue tally."

Peter snorted out a genuine laugh. "It's so cute how you still think you'll even have a chance to beat me."

"Hey, I'm still in the lead! 54 to 36." He pointed a finger at Peter. "55 now!"

Peter smirked. "Yeah, whatever. I'm catching up quick and you don't go out there anymore, so it's only a matter of time when it's only me rescuing you anymore."

Tony gasped. "Did you just call me old?"

"I think I called you a pensioner. If you want to jump to the being old part, well..."

Biting his lip like it would stop him from grinning, Peter shot a couple of glances at him until Tony simply shook his head. He waved Peter closer and Peter went without a second thought. Tony's arms pulled him in a tight hug.

"It was a pleasure saving you from your overachieving kamikaze mission, kiddo," Tony sighed. "Again."

Peter laughed into his shoulder. "Yeah, thanks, dad."

"You keep using that word like it's a big gotcha," Tony mumbled.

Peter chuckled, couldn't even really pretend that he was embarrassed being called out like that.

"Alright then," Tony clapped a hand on his back but didn't loosen his hold on Peter at all. "Let's go and tell them all about your Iron Man merch, hm?"

"You wouldn't dare..."

At last, Tony pulled away from him, the smirk on his lips dangerously sparkling. "Oh, wouldn't I..?"

A nervous giggle bubbled out of Peter. "They'd never believe you though." He would have to act fast and destroy all the photographic evidence that May had surely still stored in some of the boxes of old prints.

"Yeah..." Tony pursed his lips. "Too bad that I don't ever keep the footage from old missions..."

Peter's jaw dropped. "No..."

"It's alright," Tony grinned. "I'll let you bribe me with cookies and hot milk."

"Isn't that Morgan's deal?"

"Hey," Tony shrugged. "I'm all for treating all my kids equally." Then his grin widened. "We can make it cookies and egg nog for you."

As Tony's arm came to rest around his shoulders, still joking about how cute he had looked in his Iron Man mask, Peter already knew what his next mission would be. Now all he had to figure out was how to bribe an AI.