#I am slightly unhappy with the shading but It is okay

[fly-away-flynn]

Rest easy, Simon.

[a-chuffed-floating-panda]

A love in the eye of the hurricane ch38 (unedited)

(Originally posted 31 January 2024. Sleep deprived period. Slightly better edited chapter)

She’s not jealous. She’s not.

Jungney watched out of the corner of her eye as Sonam interacted with a Monk she wasn’t familiar with. He looked older and his eyes creased as he said something funny- it couldn’t be that funny- that made Sonam laugh. Was it possible to yearn for a sound?

Her blood boiled, and she’s angry to the point it was uncomfortable. She’d never been so angry before. Who was he??

Zopa dropped from a tree branch, folded her arms and gave her a look. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not.” She ended it. They were over. Sonam was free to do what she wanted. Jungney didn’t own her. It was uncomfortable to look at them, so she looked away. “We’re over. She’s free to do what she wants.” Her chest hurt when the words left her mouth. A hurt that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried to push it down.

“I congratulate you on your skill at following orders, because I know you did not do it willingly.” Jungney glared at her. “You still care for her,” Zopa took a step closer, “you still love her.” And she took another step. “No one can just turn off their feelings after ending an almost four-year old relationship regardless if someone told you to end it. And if you are someone like that, then you have no place at the temple.”

It’s so tempting to slap her.

“So yes Jungney, you are jealous.” Why was Zopa saying this to her? “You are angry.” She really wanted to punch her. “Because you chose something else over what you want.”

“Why are you telling me this, Zopa?” She’d seen her all smiling and giggling around two combatant individuals. 

And Zopa smiled. It felt mocking. “Because I, unlike you, am happy. I am happy in my life and with who I’m with. You follow those that claim to lead to a happy life and, well,” she gave her a once over. “You’re clearly unhappy. The bags under your eyes have become permanent because you don't sleep well. You’re withdrawn and you’re temperamental. Don’t think I don’t see how the heartbreak is affecting you. I can see it, no matter how much you try to deny what you’re feeling.”

The music and happy dances brought a smile to her face. “What is the spring festival about, anyway?” Jamyang hummed. “It’s sort of like Losar. It celebrates spring, but it celebrates our version of Dorjee and Kunsang. Though here, they’re Kshama and Keev.” Jamyang continued. “There’s a song about them. I can transcribe the notes for the shakuhachi, if you want.”

Gawa was very much interested in the offer.

Jamyang saw them in the distance, far away from people under the shade of a couple of trees.

Elder Jungney placed a flower crown on Elder Sonam’s head. And Elder Sonam looked around, picked a red flower and placed it behind her ear. “You still don’t know how to weave flower crowns?”

“I learned a few years back, but I’m hard handed and flower stems are fragile.”

Alright. Jamyang stared. She stopped walking and stared with no shame. She and a small group had been walking around the temple until now.

Yara noticed her absence, walked back to her, and followed her line of sight. Her mouth dropped audibly. “No way,” Jangmu, her girlfriend, approached her from behind and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “What?”

“They’re- are they actually?-” Gawa, Yeshe, Indira and Kasa back tracked when they noticed the missing people. Gawa ran into her side under the amused gazes of the other three. “What is it?” Jamyang pointed, Gawa followed it and burst out into laughter. “See? I told you, I told you.”

“I’ve never-,” Yara stuttered. This was an obvious revelation to her. “I didn’t think-,” she waved her hands around in the air. “She always struck me as someone who didn’t want relationships.” Jamyang nudged her. “Don’t judge.”

“I’m not judging-,” she faltered underneath her look. “Okay, maybe I did. But the Elders here just don’t do relationships. Unnecessary attachment.” Gawa chimed in. “Doesn’t Elder Zopa and Abbot Dorji have a history?”

Yara’s head whipped around. “What?”

“Yeah, Abbot Dorji and Suzume.” Suzume, now where had she heard that name? Jamyang furrowed her brows in thought. Wait, was it- “That one Suzume who used a red bladed naginata?” Gawa nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

Yara turned to her. “How come you know this, Jamyang?”

“I don’t. This is news to me as well. Although I suspected something when we visited Taktsang for the first time and we met Higa. The old man that missed the lower part of his left leg.”

“I remember him, but-,”

“You don’t remember how affectionate they were with each other? Not overly affectionate, but you know, more affectionate than what was normal of Elder Zopa then. Or maybe the fact that Elder Zopa of the Eastern temple knew a retired combat monk.”

“Now that I think about it, they both carry around the same cloth patterned with golden foxes.” Gawa said. Jamyang nodded. Abbot Dorji kept it tied to his sword hilt while Elder Zopa carried it in a pocket close to her heart. She rarely saw it. Elder Zopa always held it as if it was her most prized possession on the rare occasions she pulled it out.

Yara looked a lot like a flying fish out of water. She grabbed Jangmu’s hand and Indira- who happened to be the closest- and turned around. “We’re asking her about this and about Elder Sonam and Elder Jungney.”

Woosh! Bam!

Jamyang recoiled when Yara threw the doors open with her airbending. Gawa flinched at her side. There wasn’t a need to go all out, was it? How come she never told her she could do that? Jamyang never managed a clean blow like that. Yara walked ahead of them, a confident line in her back.

It looked like Elder Zopa expected them. She sat there unfazed, holding a cup of tea.

“Yes?”

Yara’s fists tightened at her sides, and then she sat down in front of her and placed them on her knees. The others followed her example and sat down beside her. Gawa leaned into her side; the longer and nicer robes made hand holding more difficult, with rolling up the sleeves being a dead giveaway.

“So, you, Abbot Dorji and, uh, Suzume, huh?” A shadow passed over Elder Zopa’s face. Grief? “What about them?”

“Were the three of you together?”

“Yes.” Jamyang didn’t expect honesty within the temple wall. People could overhear. “Many years ago.”

“Why did it end?”

“We couldn’t balance our relationship after Suzume died.” Their odd meetings made sense then. She’d seen them when Elder Zopa and Abbot Dorji visited the Western temple for festivals.

“Are you doing well, Dorji?”

“I am existing. I will take that as a good sign.”

Jangmu, Kasa, Yeshe and Indira shared glances.

Yara’s eyes narrowed in a way Jamyang, as the older sibling, learned meant that she wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to hurt any feelings. “What about Elder Jungney and Elder Sonam?” Elder Zopa laughed. “Did they finally make up?”

There’s silence for about ten seconds. Again, Jamyang didn’t expect such open honesty. Tashi the Elder and Tashi the Sister had ears everywhere.

“Uh,” Jangmu glanced at her sides, and held her gaze for three seconds. “We saw them together underneath a couple of trees.” Jamyang jumped in. “It looked like they were having a private moment.”

“Yeah,” the others nodded in agreement. Gawa shifted her feet. “See, I told you. I said they were together once, and I was right about it.”

Yara huffed and crossed her arms. “Excuse me then, for being a little skeptical when none- no, very few of the Elders here have expressed some semi amount of interest in getting into relationships with other people.”

“When in recent years have I been wrong about something?”

“Denial is a thing!”

“Gawa,” Jamyang nudged her. “Be nice.” It got her a pout from Gawa and a laugh from her younger sibling.

“Well,” Elder Zopa cleared her throat. “Jungney and Sonam do have history with each other. Jungney was an admirer of Sonam’s writings and was the first to approach her. She also became Sonam’s first friend at the temple here and it sort of spiraled from there.”

Kasa’s brows furrowed. “How come we never saw them together then?” Elder Zopa hummed. “They ended it before you were born. I think most of your teachers were children or teenagers.” She said. “From my understanding, Sonam kept her distance out of respect because… it might not have been a willing end.”

Indira gasped and looked scandalised. “No,”

A sad smile rose to Elder Zopa’s lips, and she nodded. “Yeah. Jungney strove to reach her position at the temple, and she did so with a lot of Sonam’s help. She had to choose when the position fell into her lap, she couldn’t have both.” She tilted her head to the side and her shoulders rose in a light shrug. “And you see what choice she made.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Yara peeked around the corner. “It feels so surreal." Jamyang joined her in spying. They’re walking around the temple and talking. There’s a tense atmosphere around them that’s slowly loosening the more time they spend together. A touch, a look and grabbing a hand.

“You’re happy on their behalf, right?” Yara turned and gave her a look. “Of course I am! It’s just- the idea is still weird. Like an Elder actually has interests in something else other than sutras and enlightenment? Forgive me, but it needs to be in my line of sight for a couple of minutes to not be weird anymore.”

A looming shadow and a pair of golden eyes visited her in her dream that night.

It’s dark around her. Where was this? Jamyang looked down at herself, her hands were small. She’s a child. This never happened outside of the spirit world. The shadow moved around the room in coiling movements, reminiscent of how Shu moved underneath the water. Was the shadow a ryeong? 

Steam hit her face. “Who are you, child?” The golden eyes lowered to her level. “Don’t think to lie. I have been watching you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. “I-I’m Jamyang.” The shadow hummed, and it shook her to her core. “Jamyang, Jamyang.” It sounded like it was testing the sound of her name. “Jamyang, why have you and your little friend been prying into our history? What are your reasons?”

Our history…? 

Rainbow fire and steam gave the vague outline of a large maw as the shadow breathed. There’s no flapping of wings, so not a dragon. A no winged fire breathing creature then. It couldn’t be a lōng. Their maws were slimmer and eyes a little closer. More feminine than the normal dragon. This one didn’t have that. She didn’t know any other wingless firebending creatures except for-

She gasped. “You’re a lóng.” The shad- the lóng breathed more fire that lit the room for a brief moment. In that moment Jamyang got a glance at its body, feet- that were way too close to her body for comfort- and its horns; slightly shorter than its cousin's counterpart.

The lóng growled. “Why are you prying into our history? What do you want?”

“I just want to learn about you! Nothing more!” Dual bending animals were interesting, okay? She got to spend a lot of time with Gawa while they researched the topic. “Every human I’ve met says that. What makes you different?” 

People always took advantage of the dual bending animals. It was the reason they hid themselves away from the world.

What made her different? Jamyang didn’t know. “I’ll- I’ll hide my writings about your species,” what else? “I’ll encode it and, uh, and make it a terma.” 

“Why not burn them? How can you ensure that a corrupted individual won’t get their hands on them?” It was tempting to say that first, but it was years of research and just burning it when someone in the next generations could have use for them didn’t seem right. 

“I’ll- me and Gawa will guard it ourselves and make sure that the right person gets access to them.” There was always a ‘chosen one’ with the lóng. Some knew their destiny, like Dao Guang, and others thought they’d gone mad. She could direct them there so that they could learn.

The lóng was quiet as it assessed her. She felt the poke of claw at her chest. Keep calm, keep calm! 

“Very well.” The lóng pulled back. “You and your little friend have my trust. Keep your end of the bargain and I’ll show you something.”

… Jamyang woke up with a gasp, threw her duvet off of her and stumbled out the door and hurried to the room Gawa was staying in.

She tripped over her robes as she closed the door, waking Gawa up. “What are you doing here?” She squinted at her. Jamyang rolled toward her bedside, now that she was already on the floor, sat up and splayed her arms across her torso. “I have to tell you something!” Gawa sighed, sat up and urged for her to sit on the bed.

“Okay, what is it?”

Jamyang placed her hands on her shoulders. “A lóng visited me in a dream!”

Jaya eyed her with a suspicious glint in her eye during the festival. And she eventually slunk her way over to her when Yara dragged Gawa away to dance.

“So,” Jaya wrapped her arm around her shoulder. Jamyang turned to her with a raised brow. “So?” “What do you say about a trip to the fire nation in the summer?”

“A trip?”

Jaya nudged her. “You know, a girls’ trip. You, Gawa, maybe a couple of our other friends and me. What do you say?” Hm, tempting. “Is there a specific date?”

“Not yet, but there will be after a bit more planning.”

“I can’t answer for Gawa, but I’ll come.” Jaya cheered and left her alone with a skip in her step.

She’s not being really subtle, but Jamyang would bite into whatever she’s planning.

“… there is greatness that everyone knows and then,” a pause. Jamyang looked around. Who said that? “there’s greatness that remains hidden and comes out when the time is right….”

It sounded like an old man. There weren’t any monks or any male presenting individuals around them. She’d dragged them off to a secluded part of the temple. Jamyang continued glancing around.

“Who said that?” Gawa turned to her. “Who said what?” Jamyang still didn’t see anyone else around them and so she repeated what she heard. “There is greatness that everyone knows and then, there’s greatness that remains hidden and comes out when the time is right.” 

Gawa’s eyes squinted. “That’s familiar. I don’t remember where I heard it. Spirit things?”

“I don’t see anyone, so I don’t know.” 

“Sounds annoying.”

“It is.” It was difficult to distinguish between what was real and what wasn’t when she couldn’t see them. Or if it was a spirit or someone dead trying to tell her something. She’d always hear something when Anzan spoke about Keiko and sometimes she’d see glimpses of two people when she looked at Amanthi. 

It happened with others too, but those two were the most prominent. Yara shared her problem. Jamyang glanced around for one last time to be sure before turning to Gawa.

“Let me braid your hair.” Gawa laid her head on her lap and made herself comfortable. She finished with the first braid when Gawa shifted. “Jamyang?”

“Hm?” She started on the second braid. 

“Are we together, or are we dating?” Her braiding slowed. “I’m hoping that we’re dating.” Did she not make it clear when they first started this? She didn’t, did she? It’s so typical of her to forget something like this. “I don’t want to skip this stage simply because we already know each other. And,” she hesitated. “I sort of want to experience this stage because the books write it to be something interesting that everybody should go through.” Her inexperience was showing. Ugh.

“Did- did I not make it clear?”

“No, it’s not that. I got the hint,” she laughed. “I just don’t know what to refer to us as now.”

“You don’t have to refer to us as anything right now, if you don’t want to.” She’s at the base of her head with the braid now. Almost done. “I’m still Jamyang to you and everyone you know.”

“For now?” Jamyang was already referring to her as a partner in the back of her mind, so yes. “For now.” She finished the braid and tied it up. “There, done.” Gawa sat up, grabbed the back of her head and her jaw and pressed her nose against her cheek.

“I like you a lot.” Jamyang nudged her nose against Gawa’s cheek when she pulled away. “I like you a lot, too.”

“They don’t frown on age gaps here, do they?” “Not really,” she tilted her head at her. “Yeshe Tsogyal became Guru Rinpoche’s main consort when she was sixteen. Although they’re not so drastic now, it’s not frowned on. The norm is about four to five years when it comes to teens and young adults.”

“And the actual adults, then?”

“They can do what they want. We’re good, if that’s what you’re wondering. People won’t look at us weirdly. Would they do so at Taktsang?”

“No,” she shook her head. “They wouldn’t. The norms here are different and I don’t know them that well.”

“... Are you thinking about other things Gawa?” Her face reddened, and she slapped her. “Of course not!… Not yet, at least.”

Ama came on the third to last day of the festival, and she brought someone else with her as well. Two children. One was very familiar. She hadn’t seen him in almost two years. He ran ahead of ama and the other boy, who looked familiar, with his arms open and a big grin. Little Chi.

“Jamyang!” He barreled into her side, enough to make her stumble, and she picked him up. “Hi, hi! It’s so long since I saw you! You’re bigger now, just like how I got big.” He’s still small. A child. Jamyang struggled not to coo at his cuteness.

She looked down at herself. Did she get bigger? Yeah, a little bigger, at least. She was sixteen the last time she saw him, and now she was eighteen.

He turned and pointed to the other boy walking with ama. “Look! That’s my friend.” Jamyang remembered seeing him with one of the older spirit guides at Jiming Linggu. Vaguely familiar. She was too busy playing with another rinpoche to get a proper look at him. “His name is Pabu,” puffball? “Well, it’s not actually his name.” He looked embarrassed. “His other names are hard for me to say, so he said it was okay that I call him that instead.”

“Chi?” Gawa looked over her shoulder and he brightened. “Gawa! Hi, hi! You’re bigger now too.” Jamyang took the opportunity to hand him over to Gawa and walked over to ama and Pabu.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I not welcome?” Ama smirked.

Jamyang huffed. “Of course you are, just,” she waved her hand around. “Since you didn’t mention anything, I didn’t expect you to come.” 

“I didn’t either. Rinzen said it would do Ngodup.” she stroked his head, and he leaned into her side. “Good to visit other spiritual places.”

“Exposure therapy?”

“Not exactly, but yeah. It’s more to get used to the change in spiritual energy.” Jamyang looked at him and in the short period of her and ama talking, his eyes had gone from curious to complete blank. Motionless.

Vision? Past life bothering him?

Jamyang crouched down to his level, placed her thumb between his brows and channeled her chi to disrupt whatever was bothering him.

He blinked and shook his head before looking at her. Curiosity was back in his brown eyes. “Do you remember your name?”

“I’m…” he trailed off and his brows furrowed the more he thought about it. “I don’t remember….” Likely a past life then, she concluded. “It’s Ngodup in this life, but Chi calls you Pabu,” his eyes lit up, “is that familiar?”

“Yeah!” He grinned. “Where is he?” Jamyang pointed behind her. “He’s with my pa-,” her face flushed when ama coughed into her sleeve to hide her laugh. Not out loud yet. “Gawa, someone close to me. Her arrow is shaped like a sea serpent. Want to go with me to look for her?” He bounced on his feet as he nodded. She grabbed his hand and started walking, stopped when she didn’t see ama, backtracked to grab her and continued walking.

“So, you left that out of your letters.”

“There are some things I need to panic over by myself, okay? Don’t come at me.” Her face burned. Ama folded her arms and laughed. Ngodup didn’t know what they were laughing about, but he joined in regardless.

Notes:

Hallaien! *kicks door down* I am going off of the laws where I live when it comes to Gawa and Jamyang. The age of consent here is 16 and it's not frowned on when an 16 year old and an 18 year old get together. Most of the people in my high school class talked with people between those ages, so I don't really bat an eye at it. I started writing this on Saturday because again, the Tsering-centric story has been more appealing to me for some reason. I don't know if I'm starting to hyper fixate on it or because I commissioned someone in November last year and I want to finally be able to post it in the notes of the fic. But Hey, I'm not posting this at four in the morning, so good news. I got finished at like one and editing took an hour or so. So I'm happy:D The spring festival is inspired by this fic right here I really recommend it Jaya is being suspicious and planning stuff and I'm getting closer to that beach scene I want. Yees:D (I am going to look for those messages my friend sent me for reverence, I haven't looked at them since April. I have probably diverged a lot) So Zopa and Dorji has history with each other. Sonam and Jungney have history and they're mingling with each other again. Yara is not used to the idea of her elders dating. Holy texts and sutras are vastly different from a human being. Jangmu, Kasa, Yeshe and Indira are Yara's closest friends at the Eastern temple. They're also kagyupa. I don't check my statistics often, but I see all of you who bookmarked and subscribed and I'm really grateful that you're here🥺 And I hope you'll be there for my future works as well. Just because I'm really happy right now, I'll share a line of the summary draft for the in between period in Jamyang's adulthood "Jaya sat on the steps, sipping on a drink with a fancy straw and twirling a pair of scissors with her left hand. There's two dead bodies at her feet and Soten was cleaning his face to her left. She lifted her drink in greeting and continued sipping it. "This is delicious, you want some?" It's still all an idea for now though, nothing is decided yet. I have two other works to focus on first Words: shakuhachi: Japanese flute Losar: tibetan new year Yeshe Tsogyal: Guru Rinpoche's main consort, and the highest woman in the Nyingma lineage of Vajrayana Buddhism rinpoche: reincarnated teacher terma: hidden teachings in vajrayana, Tibetan Buddhism and some Bon traditions Jangmu: feminine version of Jangbu

[justice4canyonmoon]

I don't know if you're comfortable with this, but could you write something about fingering Harry for the first time and he really likes it and is moaning like crazy?

I originally was going to try and make this really short, but sub! harry is my favorite Harry, so it turned into a full on one-shot! I hope this is good for you!

Warnings: smut!!!! anal fingering (m receiving), oral sex (m receiving), sub! harry

WC: 1.5k

You being dominant wasn’t anything new. Whenever one of yours and Harry’s sexual escapades ended in you taking control, you both absolutely loved it. You spanked him, tied him up, edged him, called him a dirty whore, and rode him until he cried. But there was still something the two of you had never tried before.

Harry had been curious about this for a long time. One of his friends talked about how much he loved being pegged, and Harry began to wonder if he would like the feeling. He did a little research into it, even googling about male sex toys, but the strap-ons and butt plugs seemed a little too scary to him yet. He figured he should probably see if he actually liked the feeling first before he bought any of those things.

Harry brought up the topic at dinner one night. The two of you had a natural lull in conversation, and he worked up the courage to mention it.

“Darlin’, I’ve got somethin’ I need t’ ask y’.”

You put your fork down and looked at him expectantly, not totally sure where he was going with this.

He swallowed, “Have y’ ever, ehm, pegged someone? Or enjoyed doin’ it?”

You had honestly secretly been hoping he’d ask this for a while. You wanted him to be the one to bring it up so that you knew he was comfortable with the idea.

“Yes, I have. You want me to do it to you?”

“Well, sort of,” he explained, “I dunno how ready I am f’ the whole shebang since ‘ve never done it before, but I was thinkin’ maybe y’ could finger me? Just to see how it feels?”

You smiled, “Sure, baby. We can give it a try.”

Harry returned your smile, his cheeks turning a soft shade of crimson as he returned to eating the shrimp scampi you two had cooked together.

A few days later, you got the chance to try it. You could tell he was nervous, so you took your time stripping him down and pressing sweet, reassuring kisses to his lips. You had him lay on the bed and you followed, straddling his waist and continuing to kiss him, hoping to try and quell some of his nerves. You proved unsuccessful, however; when you pulled back and grabbed the lube, you could see him trembling. You faltered, not wanting to rush into things if he wasn’t ready.

“Are you sure you want this, Harry?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, eyes slightly wide, “Y-yeah. ‘M sure. Jus’ a bit nervous, ‘s all.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind at any time, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you told him.

“I will, promise,” he replied.

Happy with his response, you leaned down and kissed his forehead before trailing light kisses down his neck and chest. You weren’t planning on touching his nipples at all, but when you saw how hard they were, you took one into your mouth and tugged gently. He whimpered as you pinched its twin, rolling the nub between your fingers. You smirked, licking both of his nipples to soothe the pain before continuing your descent, pressing sloppy kisses to his abdomen until you reached his cock. You licked at the head, relishing in the whine that fell from his lips.

“Gonna suck your cock for a little to make sure you’re nice and relaxed. That sound good, honey?” you murmured.

He nodded vigorously, but a squeeze to his thigh reminded him to answer verbally, “Y-yes. Sounds s’ good.”

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered, before pushing just the head of his cock between your lips.

He moaned softly, threading his fingers into your hair; though he tugged, he knew better than to try and make you take more. The only time he’d tried that, you’d spanked him so hard he couldn’t sit the next day. You smirked at the sound, teasingly swirling your tongue around the tip, collecting the pre-cum that had begun to leak out. Soon, you took a little bit more, sinking about halfway down on his cock. You looked up at his face, but were unhappy when you saw that his eyes were squeezed shut.

You squeezed his thigh again and pulled off of his cock, “Eyes open. Want you to look at me while I’m making you feel good.”

His eyes snapped open, his forest green eyes meeting yours, “‘M sorry. I’ll keep ‘em open, promise.”

“That’s a good boy,” you crooned.

Satisfied, you swiftly took him back in your mouth, wanting to make him both as comfortable and as turned on as possible before you pushed your fingers into him. You could hear desperate whines from above you as your nose brushed his pelvis, and you thought that now might be the best time, so he didn’t cum before you even got a chance to get started.

You pulled off of him again and asked, “Are you ready, baby?”

“‘M ready,” he confirmed.

Though you could tell he was still a bit nervous, he was definitely more relaxed than before, which was a good sign. You pulled back slightly to lube up your fingers, then leaned back in and licked a stripe up his cock. You took him back into your mouth, and he gasped softly when he felt your lube-covered finger circling his rim. You looked up at him, and he nodded at you, giving you the go-ahead. So, you slowly and gently pushed your index finger inside of him. You expected him to tell you it hurt, tense up, or maybe let out some soft noises of pleasure.

You didn’t expect the guttural moan that he released.

You smirked to yourself around his cock. He fucking loved it. You thought he would, but hearing it made satisfaction hum through your veins.

“F-fuck, b-baby. It feels s’ fuckin good. P-please move,” he begged.

With his consent, you moved your finger inside of him, relishing in the breathy moans he was making. His eyes had screwed shut again, though, and you couldn’t have that. You stilled your finger inside of him and pulled off of his cock again.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes open?”

Immediately, his eyes opened again, “Fuck, ‘m sorry. Jus’ felt s’ good, I couldn’t help m’self. Promise I’ll keep ‘em open, jus’ please don’ stop. Please.”

You maintained steady eye contact as you crooked your finger inside of him. He moaned loudly again, but managed to keep his eyes open. You didn’t take him back into your mouth, now knowing how much he enjoyed taking your fingers.

“Gonna add another finger, is that okay, baby?”

He nodded wildly, “Please, please, please!”

You chuckled softly, “My baby boy is a little eager now, isn’t he?”

You wanted to tease him a little bit, but decided to leave that for next time. This was new for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. So, you relented and pushed your middle finger in to join your pointer, and he squeaked in pleasure. His hips ground down onto your fingers, almost of their own accord, as he cried out. You pumped your fingers in and out of him, gentle praises falling from your lips as he took you. When you crooked both of your fingers inside of him again, a stream of curses escaped his lips. If his sugary sweet moans didn’t tell you how much he was enjoying this, the way his hole was clenching around your fingers did. His cock was throbbing, and you could tell that he was close as his moans turned into pants.

“S’ c-close. P-please, may I c-cum? Need t-to s’ bad,” Harry begged, confirming your suspicions.

You nodded, bringing your free hand up to tug at his cock, “Go ahead, my love. You’ve been such a good boy, you earned it.”

That’s all it took for him to cum. His release coated your hand as he moaned your name, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You stroked his cock through his high, milking every drop.

“That’s my good boy. Look so pretty when you cum for me, Harry,” you praised, smirking at the keening sound he released at your words.

When he came down from his orgasm, you slowly removed your fingers from his hole. He whimpered softly at the newfound emptiness, already missing your fingers. You smiled and gently brushed some stray curls from his forehead, peppering sweet kisses all over his face.

“Well, guess I liked it,” Harry remarked with a dopey smile on his face.

You giggled, “Guess so. Glad you did, I’ve honestly wanted to do this with you for a while. Wanted you to bring it up, though, so I knew you’d be comfortable with it.”

“‘M definitely a bit more than ‘comfortable,’ love,” he murmured, sounding exhausted.

But then, he looked up at you with wide eyes, “‘Y didn’ cum yet, baby.”

“I can take care of it myself, Har. Know I tired you out,” you replied.

He shook his head stubbornly, “No. If ‘m here, ‘m making y’ cum. Sit on my face, love.”

And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[heylookitsyc]

Bad Breaks and Pancake Dates

Pairing: 2p!Canada/Matt Williams x Reader

Anime: Hetalia / 2p!Hetalia

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Synopsis: Your boyfriend (well, now ex-boyfriend) left you out in the rain, and your older brother Philippines is stuck in a World Meeting between the first and second player countries. He asks Canada’s second player to come get you, seemingly unaware of the Canadian’s little crush on you.

Warning(s): Swearing, slight mentions of a toxic/unhealthy relationship

Note: Just a reminder that none of you deserve to be in an unhealthy relationship !! You all deserve to be happy, and I wish you all nothing but happiness and good health in your lives (´･ᴗ･ ` ) please enjoy!

Story is down below!

~

You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, the trees above you doing little to defend you from the rain.

It was difficult to tell if the drops running down your cheeks were from your own tears or the rain. You didn’t expect it to rain; it was supposed to be a fun day out with your boyfriend, so you had dressed in some of your best attire. Unfortunately, it did little to protect you from the rain.

After breaking it off with you, your asshole of a now ex-boyfriend had left you off at the side of the road. He had responded to your protests with a few not so kind words before driving off, leaving you to stand outside in the cold.

Your phone rang, and with slightly numb fingers you managed to press the “answer” button before holding it up to your ear.

You were met with Matt’s gruff voice. “Hey, where are you?” 

“I don’t know,” you said weakly. “There aren’t any street signs nearby.”

“Can you send me your location?”

“I think so.”

“Alright.” You heard the sound of a vehicle starting up. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Your brother sent me to come get you.”

“Oh. Thanks, Matt.”

He simply gave a small grunt in response before hanging up, leaving you to yourself once more.

~

You stared out the window mindlessly. Music played from the radio, the volume too low for you to know what kind of tune it was. Matt had given you a spare sweatshirt that he had in the backseat of his car; you noticed that it was the same sweatshirt that you had given to him one Christmas. You could smell the faint scent of maple syrup and cigarette smoke coming from the article of clothing.

A small smile formed on your lips. You remember how Matt was when you had given him the sweatshirt; his face had become a bright red, muttering something about how stupid your gift was. He had said that he would never wear such a thing, but that obviously turned out to be a lie.

Matt suddenly cleared his throat, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“So what happened?” he asked. Though he sounded uninterested, the glance he gave you showed the complete opposite. “You were crying when I arrived.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his statement. “You noticed that?”

“Of course I did. You don’t usually look that unhappy.”

“I guess.” You fiddled with the sweatshirt, taking notice of how the sleeves fell well past your fingertips. With a small sigh, you decided to tell him. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

You didn’t notice the way that Matt’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, eyes narrowing behind his dark shades.

“Are you fucking serious?”

You were caught off guard by the Canadian’s response. You felt the anger radiating off of him, and it started to make you nervous.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, tugging on the sweatshirt sleeve now. “He broke it off when we were coming back from the movies. He parked somewhere, and he…”

You suddenly went quiet, letting out a shaky breath.

“He wanted to do some things,” you went on, after a few seconds had passed. “I told him I wasn’t ready for that stuff just yet. He kept trying to convince me, and eventually he got angry and… well, we broke up.” 

You felt your throat tighten, and you realized that you were now close to crying again. You felt a small nudge on your hand, and you looked down to see that while Matt still had one hand on the wheel, the other was now holding out a handkerchief.

As if sensing your confusion, Matt gave a small sound of annoyance. “What?”

“Nothing!” You quickly took the piece of cloth from him. “Thanks, Matt.”

“Do you wanna eat somewhere?” he suddenly asked. You didn’t know if you were seeing things, but you could’ve sworn that there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “We can talk more about this over dinner or something.”

You felt yourself smile at his words.

“Sure.”

~

The sweet taste of maple syrup filled your mouth as you took a bite of pancake. Matt had taken you to a local diner that he visited quite often; despite his initial plan to take you somewhere nicer, you had been quick to remember his love for pancakes. (“I haven’t had breakfast for dinner in awhile,” you had told him. “Let’s go get pancakes so that the both of us can enjoy!���).

“You know, I don’t eat pancakes often,” you said, “but these are great. Thanks for taking me here, Matt.”

“Don’t mention it.” He took a sip of his coffee, his attention on the stack of pancakes in front of you.

You took notice of his stare, head tilting slightly. “Do you want some?” you asked.

“I’m fine.”

In reality, he just couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye. It didn’t help that he was so close to you; the two of you were sitting right across from each other, and he could feel your gaze on him as he spoke. It made him feel strange, to say the least.

The diner was mostly empty. A small number of tables were filled; it seemed as though some people also had the idea of having breakfast for dinner. It was mostly quiet, save for the double doors leading to the kitchen occasionally swinging about and the faint chatter coming from the few customers that interacted with one another.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t order anything,” you said, stabbing another piece of pancake onto your fork. “You love pancakes, Matt.”

“I’m good with my coffee,” he said. He was about to take another sip of his drink, only to pause when you held out a piece of pancake to him.

“Here,” you said, smiling. “You can share with me.”

He stared at you in shock, the lack of shades allowing you to look into his violet eyes.

“Come on, Matt,” you urged. “I can’t finish these on my own, anyway.”

Knowing that you wouldn’t stop unless he gave in, he gave a small grumble before reluctantly opening his mouth. His cheeks were now a faint pink, and you couldn’t help but feel your own cheeks warm as you fed him the bite.

“I put extra maple syrup on that one,” you said. “I know how much you like that stuff.” You gave a small laugh at your own words, remembering that Matt had also poured some syrup into his coffee when he thought you weren’t looking.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you continued to eat, occasionally giving Matt a bite in between his sips of coffee.

~

Heavy footsteps followed your own as you made your way up the front porch steps. Your brother had rented the house for a month; while the world meeting was held in Canada and only lasted for a day, he had rented the home for a month so that the two of you would have more time to explore the country.

“Thanks for today, Matt,” you said, reaching the front door. “I had fun.”

The Canadian stood at the bottom of the steps, not bothering to make his way up entirely. It was already late; he had to leave soon in order to avoid a lecture from Oliver once he got home.

Hands shoved into his pockets, Matt gave a small nod at your words.

“Get home safe, okay?” you said. “And message me when you do. I want to make sure you get home safely.”

You really were too nice. He watched as you took out a key from your pocket, unlocking the front door.

Matt couldn’t stop himself. “Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Hm?” You had been halfway inside already, and you turned to look at him. “What is it?”

“Your ex-boyfriend,” he said. “Forget about him, okay? He was a fucking asshole.” He looked off the side, and even in the dark you could see his slight blush. “You deserve someone better. Someone who’ll do things when you’re comfortable.”

“Matt…”

He didn’t have time to react as you made your way back down the steps, grabbing him by the front of his flannel in order to pull him down. He felt a slight pressure on his cheek, and his eyes widened at the realization that you had kissed him.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He couldn’t do anything but stare as you let go of his shirt and headed back up the stairs, giving him a small wave before disappearing into the house.

After a few seconds of standing there, Matt shook his head and began to make his leave, unaware of the fact that he now held a slight smile.

~

[Bonus]

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Kuya...”

Your older brother gulped at the sound of your voice, turning around slowly. He had been watching the two of you from his bedroom window.

You stood there, a smile on your face. Though your smile was usually sweet, the way you stared at him sent shivers down his spine.

“Were you watching us?” you asked.

Your brother gave a nervous laugh in response. “Aha, (Y/N), you know-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, for you had already thrown a slipper at his face.

“Mind your own business next time!” you huffed, ignoring his groans of pain and weak apologies as you headed towards your room.

~

Translations:

Kuya - older boy/older brother

[ambertea]

fatherhood

Tentoo prepares himself for the birth of his child by trying to become the perfect dad.

It was strange, being a human.

It wasn't just that he had to watch his sugar intake now, or that his hair was receding at a worrying pace. It wasn't even the extraordinary amounts of drinking and eating he had to do, the peculiarity of human existence that forced him to constantly shovel things in his mouth.

(Read on AO3)

It was a culture shock, more than anything else. He had lived among humans for years, shared hundreds of years of his life living with their habits. But it was different, somehow. It was as though he was living abroad, rather than simply taking a holiday, and he often found himself struggling to untangle their bizarre social norms.

“Are you listening to me?”

He looked up, his eyes darting around the room. He had been engrossed in the newspaper, ticking off inaccuracies or improbabilities, and drawing tiny TARDISes in each white square of the crossword puzzle.

“Yes.”

Rose looked doubtful. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“So, what do you think?”

He hurriedly scanned the room, looking for something to have an opinion on. The walls were the same colour. The curtains, too. Even the windows looked just the same as yesterday.

“Good.” He nodded forcefully. “Good. Very good.”

“Great.” She grinned, and he relaxed.

She threw herself on the sofa next to him and stroked his shoulder.

“So, when should we start trying?”

He kissed her forehead, trying to gain some precious thinking seconds.

“Uh. Tomorrow?”

She held her head in his lap, gazing up at him with some strange human emotion.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

Oh.

He wanted to have a child. He really did. He loved kids, enjoyed their brutal honesty and vivid imaginations. He had had children before, of course he had, and although he didn't spend an awful lot of time thinking about it, he still thought of himself as a Dad.

The responsibility of being the father of Rose’s child, though, was something else.

Everything about her was perfect. She had a beautiful face and an equally magnificent soul. Hell, she had literally been a Goddess at one point. What if his silly genes were more dominant than hers, and rather than the wonderful baby that she deserved, she ended up with a child just like him?

The only solution, really, was to just become the perfect dad. So far, Netflix had told him it included a lot of DIY, and sometimes crossing his arms.  He could do that. His last body had been a wonderful mechanic, and he was sure he’d folded his arms at some point in 900 years.

The drill looked a bit scary. He would have felt better using his sonic screwdriver, but it wouldn’t have looked nearly as cool. Rose was watching him, looking concerned.

“Do you have to hold it in your mouth?”

He tried to talk, and spat the drill out, exasperated.

“Yes! I need to be holding your hand too. The baby needs to feel how good of a dad I am.”

She squeezed his arm and leant into his body.

“I’m sure they’ll know either way.”

He doubted it. Probably, they would be watching perfect Simon next door, with his massive toolbox and fancy shed, wishing that their dad could be equally handy.

“What are you drilling, then?” She asked, and he looked around the garden in panic.

He hadn't thought about that bit yet. He'd been flabbergasted by the sheer amount of attachments, and then annoyed over the stupid power chord that needed at least 3 extension leads to go anywhere useful. He'd had a vague image of himself drilling a bit of wood, and Rose clapping at his brilliance. But there wasn't any wood out here, the garden empty but for a few gnomes.

One looked up at him judgmentally, and he made a mental note to kick it when Rose wasn’t around.

“Uh – I thought I would practise, for now.”

“What, like just…turn it on?”

“Yep,” he said frantically. “A test run. See how, um, spinny it is.”

Rose dropped his hand, and he turned to her, offended. She was clutching her stomach, her eyes lit with – was that fear? Happiness?

“Rose? Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly, a small, gentle smile growing. Retaking his hand, she pressed it against her stomach, and he felt his single heart jump when he felt it.

“They’re kicking,” he whispered, dropping to his knees and pressing his ear against her stomach. The baby kicked him straight in the head, and he stared in wonder.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Okay, so maybe the drilling thing had failed. It was no wonder, really, he was a highly intelligent part-time lord, who couldn’t be wasting his time standing around all day just pointing hand tools at walls. His baby was unlikely to be properly impressed with that, anyway, being of superior intellect themselves.

Perhaps he needed to talk to an expert. An actual parent, one that had managed to raise an impressive child.

He thought about Jackie for a second and instantly squashed the thought.

Pete wasn’t laughing at him, exactly, but he certainly had a strange little glint in his eye that the Doctor didn’t appreciate.

“You want me to teach you how to…parent?”

The Doctor groaned. This had been a stupid idea. He turned to go, but Pete quickly grabbed his shoulder.

“Sorry. I was a mess when Jacks was pregnant, so I guess this is no different.”

“It is different!” The Doctor said, offended. “It’s Rose.”

“So just be there for her. Help her with things. I’m sure the baby would…respect that.”

The Doctor stared, wide-eyed. Pete was right. The baby was going to love Rose, just like everyone else who met her, and if he could be seen helping her…

“Thanks, Pete, bye.” He yelled, legging it out of the room.

“What are you doing?”

He frowned, offended, and the wooden spoon rolled off his tongue and onto the floor. Rose eyed it, eyebrow raised.

“How are you doing today, my darling?”

“When did you start calling me that?”

“I can call you something else!” He offered desperately. “Sweetie? Sugar? Love? Babe?”

“Do not call me babe.”

“Honeybunny?”

She was looking at him as if she was slightly concerned for his health.

“I’m making dinner.” He said quickly, gesturing to the wok. She walked over, suddenly interested, and peered down with a look that he couldn't decipher.

“Malteasers?” She asked faintly. He nodded.

“And bananas. And tea, too, for the sauce. All your favourites!”

She kept her face down, shoulders shaking. Probably, he thought, stunned in the face of his great generosity.

“Thank you, Doctor.” She finally choked out between gasps, patting him fondly on the shoulder. He puffed out his chest and went to go sort out the crockery.

“I think we should start buying things.” Rose said one day. Her legs were draped over his lap, his hands massaging her feet.

He looked at her in shock. He hadn’t even thought about all the things the baby would need, being more focused on Rose and her ever-changing moods. They were going to need so much stuff, and it was all going to have to be perfect, as well, lest the baby grew unhappy with its drab surroundings.

He knocked her feet off his lap and set off into a run.

“Why,” Rose asked, her hands on her hips, her stomach peeking out under her bottom, “do we need five cribs?”

“The baby needs options!” He insisted, gesturing at the cradles circling the room. They were all in different shades of white, with tiny little mobiles hovering over them. He had made the mobiles himself, fashioning tiny little Earth, Gallifrey and TARDIS charms to hang over the crib.

He frowned, wondering if he’d done something wrong. Maybe he should have gotten some different colours—he knew humans' fixation on pinks and blues for their offspring. Perhaps he should have picked up a few more.

“You don't think the baby will like them?” He asked, feeling a bit crushed.

Rose smiled, and hugged him, her round bump pushing into his belly.

“They’ll love them.”

Rose was in labour, and he was having a heart attack.

He didn’t like only having one heart on a good day. As a Time Lord, he’d loved Rose, but he’d also loved space, and the TARDIS, and pretty much any fascinating person he met. Now having only one, it felt like his whole body was focused on just her – everything else seemed so less important, less crucial for his day-to-day survival.

What if one heart wasn't enough? What if he couldn’t love their baby properly? What if the child grew to be unloved and unloving, unable to feel the wonderfully wide spectrum of human emotion, all because he had one, stupid heart and it was already used up.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Doctor,” Rose moaned, and he hurried over to clutch at her hand.

Rose was holding her baby.

No—his baby. No, theirs.

She looked up at him, her face pink and drenched in sweat, a soft, beautiful smile stretched across her face.

“Do you want to hold her?” She whispered, rocking the pile of blankets gently, and he nodded, dumbstruck.

Carefully, the baby--his baby!-- was settled into his arms, and he gazed at her, tears trickling down his face.

“Hello,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes and blinked up at him. Her tiny, pudgy little arm stretched out to him, reaching out towards his face, and his singular heart stretched and grew.

"She's perfect." He told Rose, who nodded, looking at him with yet another expression he couldn't untangle.

He looked back down at his daughter and ran his finger over her cheek, marvelling over how soft, how precious she was.

"I'm going to look after you," he choked out. "I'm going to be the best dad on Earth. You'll see."

The baby looked up at him, eyes filled with trust, and he thought that maybe, if he tried really, really, hard, he might just be able to do it.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

"A Great Vacation" ~ dolphin trainer!Hawks x reader

words: 1.9k

A/N: I am on vacation now when we happen to see dolphins at the place we're staying which happens to be called "Hawks Cay". I can't get this 5'8" blond glorious birdman out of my head but make sure to social distance and wear masks when you're on vacation!

The wetsuit clung to your warm skin, the water dripped on the concrete and you put your arm through the sleeve, shivering at the cool fabric. Adjusting your wristband, you locked your locker with your things in it and headed over to the pool where the rest of your group was.

While you were on vacation there was a local sanctuary for dolphins and other sea animals, taking the opportunity to sign up for a dolphin experience that benefitted both you and the dolphin who’d been rescued from severe injuries. As much as you were very excited to see the dolphins, your instructor was quite attractive and you probably looked ridiculous avoiding any and all eye contact when he was addressing the group.

This name tag he wore said Keigo and he was absolutely stunning. He had bright tousled blonde hair with piercing gold eyes and you could see his toned body through his wetsuit. His personality was so carefree but cautious when it came to safety with you and the dolphins and his smile made your blush darken to a crimson, you really couldn’t think straight at all around him.

The worst part was, he noticed. And would flirt back. When he was handing out the wetsuits for the group and going over prohibited items on someone while in the water, his gaze flicked to yours every couple of seconds and winked. Smirking subtly when he caught you blushing or dropping your gaze away from him.

It seemed like he enjoyed teasing you specifically for who knows what reason and of course who were you to stop him. Keigo handed out wetsuits and was double-checking everyone’s sizes when he saw you slightly struggling with balance trying to put a leg through.

“Here, let me help! These things can be tough at times,” Feeling his arm around your waist as he steadied you, holding the side of the wetsuit for you as you were pressed up against his bare back.

The one thing you failed to realize when he walked over was that he made sure everyone had their suit on before his in case of any problems (which apparently was you). You could feel his toned stomach and abs against your back, the heat from the sun not helping with the situation, and noticing his muscles flex when he reached down.

Meaning, this gorgeous flirty man was only in a swimsuit behind you who was purposely trying to fluster you, who only wore a swimsuit trying to get their suit on under their bathing suit. You must be in heaven, that’s the only explanation. Blushing you made a noise of agreement as you were able to put your leg through,

“T-thanks for the help.” Hearing his chuckle and whisper, “No problem. Happy to help, cutie! I’m so excited to teach you today” While you wanted to say something your mind disagreed, making you completely speechless in the process, and managed to come up with only two words.

“Me too,” Brandishing a smirk and hugging your waist before letting go and walking off, his head still tilted towards you as he showed off his tattoo on his back. Pair of red wings that stretched out to his elbows and midway down his back, seeing the shading shift when his shoulder blades moved.

You had just met this man and you were helpless. Hearing his smooth gentle voice call out to his coworker, “Rumi! Get your group ready to go in the water and tell Dabi to stop scaring the kids with sea monster stories!” muttering curses under his breath.

Fast forward to now where you all were wearing life vests and in the water with two of the dolphins and Keigo. “I know at times it can be scary to try new things, but awesome job getting in the water, even if it’s a bit cold” You all laughed awkwardly and waded your arms around you, catching the dolphins coming up next to him and splashing him.

His absolutely infectious laughter was music to your ears as he shielded himself with his arms and splashed them back, blowing the whistle and signaling to them that they won and to stop. Still laughing he turned to your group, locking eyes with you, and addressed the group.

“These guys are very playful so don’t be too surprised if they have some fun!” Getting a chorus of laughs from the rest of the group but another blush from you and you laughed along as well.

“Okay so, let’s start! This girl here is Tundra and this is Sara, they both grew up together when get got caught in some nets and washed up on shore a few miles away from here.” His smile charmed the audience as he ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, continuing the story.

“Tundra here loves to play around but she’s super friendly. Can you guys wave to her?” You all waved to the dolphin next to Keigo, smiling and murmuring excitedly when she waved back. Your instructor looked very happy, giving a fish to her.

About half an hour passed as the time was ending when something you didn’t expect was announced, “So to end our memorable experience, let’s thank your friends here and give them some love. Each of you will give one of our friends a kiss.”

Your turn came up and you swam towards the dolphins and Keigo, deciding that you’d kiss the dolphin that you liked the most, burying the thought that you would rather kiss the attractive blond instead. Trying to fight a blush coming up when you were in front of him,

“Hope you’re not too cold in the water because I’m more than happy to warm you up.” He motioned the one you chose and guided your hands with his and held your hip to his to keep you from falling. You felt a bit braver and decided to go for it.

“I’d rather kiss you than the dolphin, Keigo.”

“I’m more than happy to grant that request after the show, Y/N”

With that you held the dolphin's mouth and placed a quick kiss on her mouth, swimming back trying to play it off like nothing happened, but something told you the rest of the group had caught on that something was going on between you two. but didn’t seem to mind.

You all waded back to the platform near the dock while the two other trainers joined Keigo, one of them being a beautiful woman with long white hair tied into a brain laughing at her other coworker who looked unhappy to be completely soaked.

He had short black hair with burns on his face with many piercings shouting something at both of them to stop laughing at him, threatening to push him into the water. You laughed quietly as you saw them call all the dolphins over and give them fish, blowing their whistles.

They flipped in the air, crashing down into the water and performing certain tricks, and coming back for fish. Everyone applauded when they finished and you started to head over to the changing rooms, ready to take off this cold wetsuit. Passing by the two trainers and seeing them motion you over.

“So you’re the one who has Takami’s attention! Nice to meet you! Name’s Rumi! The burnt one is Dabi.” You stifled a laugh at her statement as he punched her arm. “It’s nice to meet you both! I hope it wasn’t too noticeable,”

“With Takami, it always is but you’re good. He’s generally very charismatic with others but we’ve never seen him blatantly flirt with someone!” Someone called them over and waved goodbye to you Rumi jogging over and Dabi begrudgingly walking over as well.

Smiling, you shook your head and went to get changed, stepping up the ramp while thoughts buzzed around your head. As you reached the door to the changing room, a hand touched your shoulder and saw none other than Keigo himself. Already changed out of his wetsuit and into his bathing suit, sporting some loose necklaces and red earrings.

“Hey, I can help you change if you want. I know those things are hard to get out of, especially after you get wet.” Smirking as he eyed you up and down before quickly switching expressions, “That is if you want to, it’s completely okay if you don’t though.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he nervously played with one of his earrings, still being his adorable self. “Keigo, I’d gladly love help. Knowing me, I’ll probably need it.” He laughed with you, leaning against a wall as you went in to get your stuff.

This was actually happening. This amazingly gorgeous man was actually into you.

Getting your stuff you opened the door to see him smile and tilt his head towards the nearest bathroom. As you walked, you couldn’t help but get a bit nervous about this but you were more excited than anxious.

The door closed and you felt his hands on your waist as you put your stuff down. Turning around to meet his gaze but you were stopped as he tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you back into his body. Keigo placed kisses on your neck, reveling in the sighs you gave in response.

He placed pecks on your neck, sucking and biting certain spots, humming when you relaxed your neck on his shoulder. “Mhm, dove you are so gorgeous. I could barely do my job when you’re there in that skin-tight suit, and I’m not going to lie when I say I'm excited to see this off you.”

“Then why don’t you find out?” He pulled the zipper on your back down, hearing the sound of it slowly descending and feeling the air brush against your bare skin. You began to pull your arms out of the sleeves while Keigo pulled the tight material down your hips and caressed your legs.

Your breath hitching when he ran his hands over your thighs, whispering under his breath how soft and perfect they were. Lifting your legs out of the pants and standing there only in your bathing suit, moving closer to Keigo and putting your arms around his neck, kissing him softly.

Happily returning the kiss, he nipped your bottom lip and ran his hands over your figure. You opened your mouth letting him in, his tongue brushing against yours and moaning softly. His lips were so soft and warm, weaving your fingers into his blond wiry hair.

A phone went off and Keigo broke apart quickly, “Ignore it, I want you so fucking bad, Y/N.” “So do I, Keigo.”

A few seconds passed as his phone again, groaning, he stepped back, keeping his hand around you and answering whoever was calling him. “Yep…. yeah, I’ll be right there.” He frowned and kissed you again, slipping you a piece of paper.

“Gotta go, dove. Text me, we’ll finish this later~” Quickly escaping out the door and winking, leaving you a flustered giddy mess. This was turning out to be a good trip and it would only get better.

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

Come As You Are

Blake: [To Sun] I still don’t think this is necessary.

Sun: C’mon, babe-a-licious, it’s perfect! You’re the life of the party!

Blake: *Raises eyebrow*

Sun: Okay, well you were the life of the party but that’s not your fault.

Yang: Yeah partner, it’s pretty hard to compete with [gestures at her body] all this!

Blake sighed, choosing to ignore that comment and glanced down at herself. They were at a “come as you are” party celebrating something (though it seemed like with the death of the Grimm Queen and the rapid downspike in Grimm activity, plus a collective loss of intelligence in the Grimm, that people didn’t need a an actual reason to party) and the theme was obvious.

So Blake had eventually caved to Sun’s pleas and was busy wearing what was effectively lingerie. A black bandeau top with a cartoonish hole shaped like a cat head (basically a circle with two triangles about where the ears would be) that left little to the imagination as to the size and shape of her boobs and a short black skirt, a studded belt and hanging from the studded belt was a black cat tail. Her ears were on display, she’d drawn whiskers on her cheeks and blackened the tip of her nose but she’d drawn the line at wearing cat paw gloves and slippers and had opted for a sensible pair of heels.

Sun had basically stripped down to a furry yellow speedo and a pair of flip flops and was carrying a bunch of bananas, his own tail swishing back and forth happily.

Yang on the other hand was technically wearing more but it hardly mattered. She’d somehow managed to fit her excessive curves into a skintight bodysuit that was somewhere between a leotard and a corset, her rump barely fitting in the back while Yang’s breasts were all but spilling out of the top. It was sleeveless, she wore no stockings as she was happy to show off her legs and she wore a pair of four inch black pumps and atop a head filled with lightly curled blonde hair was a pair of bunny ears. And as if to prove her statement right, Yang had had eyes on her all night, not that it mattered to the very taken brawler.

Three guesses what she’s was supposed to be and the first two don’t count, Blake thought.

Blake: Such modesty, Yang.

Yang: Pfft, modesty schmodesty. If you got it--

Blake: Let it all hang out?

Yang: *Snorts* You see anything hanging?

Sun: [Uncomfy] Hey, uh, isn’t Jaune supposed to be here? I mean you two did say you were gonna match outfits.

Yang: Yeah, well, lover boy changed his mind last second and refused to share with his loving girlfriend what he was doing.

Blake: You put him in a headlock and demanded he tell you again?

Yang: *Blushes* No! I haven’t done that in years!

Blake: *Waits*

Yang: [Sighs in defeat] I may have tried to smother him.

Blake:*Crosses arms*

Sun: With your--

Yang: With my tits. [Grumbles] I think I’m using them too much if he’s actually developing an immunity.

Blake: [Pleased] There we go.

Still, Blake couldn’t help but smile at the grumpy and still slightly red faced form of her partner even as Sun coughed and tried to pretend that he suddenly found something interesting about Oscar’s exaggerated farmer costume of heavy brown boots, heavy duty dark blue jeans and the black-and-red plaid shirt he had tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up, one hand carrying an actual hay fork.

Blake looked around and saw Ruby in track shoes, track pants and a sports bra with goggles resting at her hairline. She was busy talking to a group of admirers alongside Weiss, who was in a smart pure white pantsuit with a pale blue blouse beneath that really was no different from her everyday wear as the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company. The only additions being a clipboard and a pair of fake eyeglasses to sell the look, her hair dun up in a bun.

Nora was wearing a horned helm of some sort, sleeveless chainmail that left her biceps open to admire and brown leather bracers on her forearms. She wore studded black leather pants that showed off an equally powerful lower body and furred boots. A red cape was tied around her neck and the young woman had Magnhild over her shoulder and was darting about excitedly, other partygoers ducking to avoid getting smashed over the head by the low hanging hammer.

Blake wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be, but the same went for Ren who wore poofy white pants, black flats (slippers? She didn’t know) and a green jacket that was similar to his first outfit, but he could hide his hands in his sleeves and rather than buttons, there was a length of white rope that tied it together. He was busily following Nora, trying to ensure she didn’t cause any brain damage in her hyperactive state.

Otherwise Neptune was wearing a toga and a golden circlet of equally golden leaves native to Mistral with strappy brown leather sandals. Sage was across the room wearing a ceremonial robe that was unfamiliar to the Menagerie born faunus with a wooden staff and Scarlet was both dressed as a stereotypical pirate and was clearly flirting with Yang’s uncle, who’d been lazy and added a small top hat and wraparound shades and was drinking liberally from a flask.

There were others they knew but the only others she could see at the moment were Fiona Thyme in what looked like wool footie pajamas and Maria Calavera in a hooded cloak, upside down and...doing a kegstand with two men near her age holding her feet, wearing what looked like a gimp suit, the other in slacks, suspenders, a bow tie and nothing else!?

Blake’s head snapped back to Yang who was staring, disturbed, at the same scene. Blake shuddered. Sun shrugged.

Sun: At least the old lady’s having fun.

Yang: Yeah. Kinda wished her fun didn’t make me wanna bleach my eyeballs though. [Grouchily and quiet] Where is he? I swear, if he’s skipping out on me...

Blake: I’m sure he’s just--

A ripple of laughter cut her off and Blake blinked, looked and--

Blake: [Disappointed] Late. *Big sigh* Oh boy.

Sun: [Breaks down into snorting laughter, turns away to avoid potential Yanger]

Yang: [Spins] What’s--

Jaune had arrived, but instead of whatever he’d agreed to wear with Yang he was wearing a large, stereotypical trash can around his torso with his bare arms moving awkwardly at his sides, his bare legs waddling slightly in the clanging and clunking costume. On his brightly grinning head was the top to the trash can, held in place by a strap that went under his chin.

Yang: [Sputtering incoherently]

Ruby: [Distantly] Yang, that’s so mean!

Yang: [Distressed] I didn’t--

Weiss: [Distantly] For shame, Yang Xiao Long.

Yang: [Upset] Nooo, it’s not--

Partygoer: Wow. Poor guy. [To his girlfriend] Please don’t ever do that to me. [Girlfriend hugs his arm]

Yang: [More upset] I swear--

Scarlet: [Finally looks over] *Squawking laughter*

Yang: [Even more upset] Stop, it’s seriously not--

Qrow: [Disappointedly] Firecracker. We raised you better.

Yang: [Can’t decide whether to cry or explode; pouts at Jaune while trying to glare] Baby, we talked about this!

Jaune: [Happily smiling] You talked. I ignored. Besides, everybody’s perfectly in character! Who am I to deny my nature!?

Yang: *Unhappy teakettle noises*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dragonslayer’s probably my favorite RWBY ship, Black Sun’s leagues better than Bumblebee (IMPO) and I really couldn’t help myself here.

[seanfalco]

Want | Priest!Kay x Reader { Part V }

Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Smut, Oral/Fingering (f!receiving), Catholic imagery, Priest kink, Infidelity Summary: When you start attending your fiance’s church in order to convert, per  his family’s wishes, you never expected to be reunited with your old  flame, Kay, who just so happens to be the Priest, not to mention, the  one that got away.  Both deeply unhappy with the paths your lives have  taken and fighting buried feelings only makes things harder the more  time you end up in each other’s company, leading to a forbidden  relationship that could tear your entire lives as you know them apart.   Lucky for you, nothing could be more worth it.

masterlist

“Hey, I’m gunna take a shower, you sure you don’t wanna join?”

At Matthew’s question, you looked up from the book in your lap, fighting back the grimace that almost instantly crossed your face.  “No, that’s alright, I’ve already taken one earlier,” you said offhandedly, flipping the page.  “Besides, showering with someone else really isn’t as hot as they make it out to be in the movies,” you pointed out.

Your fiance frowned for a moment before shrugging.  “Your loss,” he quipped as he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as you heard the water turn on, you jumped up, going in search of his phone, hoping he hadn’t taken it into the bathroom with him.  Luckily, you found it plugged in on the kitchen counter.  

Your pulse pounding in your ears, you picked it up, and swore under your breath.

Fuck, what’s his passcode?

Wracking your brain, you began trying any meaningful four digit codes you could think of.  You had to get this right or he’d know you’d been trying to get into his phone, and then you’d be utterly fucked.

Closing your eyes, you envisioned him unlocking his phone and the path his finger always made; you’d seen him do it probably hundreds of times.  You had one last chance before you’d be locked out.  Holding your breath, you gasped in relief when his home screen appeared.

Okay, now all you have to do is find some proof, you thought, opening his messaging app as you strained your ears, listening for the sound of running water.  The shower was still going.  You still had time.

Scrolling through his messages, you found a couple unfamiliar numbers, with only letters as the contact info.  

“That’s not suspicious at all,” you grumbled, opening the first one, addressed to ‘P’.  Working quickly, you didn’t find anything too damning in that thread, mostly Matthew flirting a little, but nothing about meeting up.  Still, you snapped a quick photo with your own phone before backing out and opening the thread with ‘A’.

“Whoa!” you gasped, nearly dropping his phone as a photo of your fiance’s dick greeted you, followed by a return photo of ‘A’s’ tits and a message about how good the other night had been.  Bingo, you thought, quickly taking a photo of the evidence, proof that he was cheating.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and your heart leapt into your throat.  Quickly closing the message app, you fumbled with the lock button, dropping his phone back to the counter where he’d left it, and yanked opened the refrigerator door as soon he rounded the corner in his towel.

“Babe?” he called uncertainly til he noticed you.  “Oh, there you are,” he exclaimed, nonchalantly unplugging his phone.  “Since you’re in there, d’you think you could make me a sandwich?  I’m starving,” he groaned.  Not even waiting for your answer, he turned around and left the room.  “Thanks hon!” he called back and you rolled your eyes.

“Why don’t you ask your mistress t’do that for you?” you grumbled under your breath, pulling out the deli meat.

——

“So, how have your lessons with Father Kay been going?” your fiance’s mother asked as she fixed her hair in the mirror next to you.  “You’ve seemed rather intent during the last few sermons, like you just couldn’t tear your eyes from the pulpit.”

Had you been that obvious?  At least she didn’t suspect the real reason for your interest.

“Oh yeah, the lessons have been so… eye opening,” you exclaimed, twisting the truth just enough so it didn’t feel like an outright lie.  “They’ve allowed me a lot of introspection, and I’ve learned so much about coming to terms with my… faith.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Matthew’s mother remarked, turning to take your hands in hers, and you quickly plastered a smile in place.  “I am so proud of you for coming to the light,” she continued, clicking her tongue with joy.  “Oh, and you and my darling Matthew are going to make just the sweetest married couple.  I couldn’t be happier with this match!”

Clearing your throat, you fought back a grimace.  “Speaking of Matthew… was he visiting you guys the other night?  I couldn’t seem to get a hold of him, and he wouldn’t say where he was,” you mused innocently, hoping to plant a seed of doubt in his mother’s mind.

“The other night?  No, we haven’t seen Matty all week,” she answered thoughtfully.  “Maybe he was out with some friends?” she suggested.

“Maybe,” you agreed hesitantly, “I mentioned it to them too and they hadn’t seen him either.”  Shrugging, you checked your reflection before looking down at your watch.  “I better get going, don’t want to be late for my lesson.  I thought I’d just check.  I’ll see you later!”

Quickly leaving his mother looking slightly perplexed, you hurried back toward the sanctuary in search of Kay.  It looked as if most of the congregation had already filed out, the room seemingly empty and you were about to head to his office when you felt someone grip your wrist, tugging you into the shaded alcove nearby with a gasp, your heart hammering in your chest.

“There you are,” Kay murmured and you instantly relaxed in his embrace as soon as you realized it was him.

“What are you doing?  What if someone sees us?” you asked, melting with a sigh as he pressed his lips to yours, unable or perhaps unwilling to step away from him.

“I can’t get you off my mind,” Kay whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face.  “Do you know how hard it is to preach with you in the congregation?  When my thoughts get away from me and I start thinking… unholy things?”

Kay shook his head softly, his long dark curls shivering.  “You’re entirely too distracting for your own good, love.”

A grin tugged at your lips.  “And I’m not even trying,” you pointed out teasingly.  “Imagine if I really wanted to distract you.”

A visible shiver ran through him and you wondered what he was thinking about to make him shudder so-- if he was thinking about your last meeting and how you’d made him feel.

Before you could tease him further, remembering the way he’d nearly dropped a communion wafer down a lady’s dress earlier when he’d been too distracted, his mouth was once more on yours, kissing you insistently.

“Kay…” you murmured, gently breaking the kiss, though it nearly killed you.

“I know… you’re right,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours.  “We should take this back to my office before we get caught.”

As soon as the door shut behind you, you purposefully locked it, not wanting a repeat of the last time.  “Mmm, good idea, love,” he whispered against your lips, pulling the stiff white collar from his throat as he walked you backwards, his hands slipping to your waist while your lips impatiently found his.  

Tripping on the corner of his desk, you fell backwards against the cluttered bookshelf behind you, knocking the air from your lungs in a rush.  Teetering on the edge of the shelf above, the still open bottle of communion wine Kay’d thoughtlessly left behind earlier toppled over, spilling down the front of your blouse to add insult to injury.  Luckily there wasn’t much of the dark red wine left, but still enough to stain.

“Oh, shit, [y/n], I’m sorry!” Kay exclaimed, quickly righting the empty bottle and grabbing a handkerchief from his desk to dab at the bright right splotch right over your breasts.

“Kay,” you said, gently taking his hand, “I don’t think that’s gunna help,” you pointed out, your lips twitching with amusement as he realized where his hand was hovering.  

“Oh,” he breathed, “I’m so-- I’m sorry, I--”

Not wanting him to apologize further, you pressed your lips to his, cutting him off.  “It’s okay,” you murmured as you pulled back, your fingers going to the buttons down your front.

“What are you doing?” Kay asked, frozen, his eyes darting downwards.

“I need to take this off,” you answered, slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons and he swallowed at the sight of your cleavage.  “Like what you see, Kay?” you asked, and he wet his lips, his eyes traveling over you, watching each subtle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath you took.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, tearing his eyes from your chest as you pulled him back in for a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated, lifting you in his arms to carry to his desk, setting you atop it as he lowered himself to his chair, moving closer as you parted your legs for him.

Gasping as his lips left yours to travel lower, exploring your neck, you arched instinctively into his touch and he kissed his way downward, his hands coming to rest at the tops of your thighs and you opened your legs further, your skirt inching up.

“Oh, Kay,” you sighed, your chest heaving against his mouth as his tongue laved against your feverish skin.  “I have--some good news,” you panted, arousal filling you by the moment, your cunt aching, screaming out to be filled, to be touched -- anything to bring some relief.

“What’s that?” he asked distractedly, his lips dragging down the slope of your breast to rest between them, kissing your sternum chastely before his chin tilted up, his eyes seeking yours.

“I’ve found some proof that Matthew’s been unfaithful.”

“Good… good,” Kay murmured hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, running your fingers through his curls, worry suddenly clutching you as his reluctance.  “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” you whispered, ice cold fear running through your veins.

“What?  No!  Not at all, [y/n], no,” he exclaimed quickly, shaking his head, his cheeks still flushed.  “I just want this sneaking around to be over with,” he admitted.  “It makes me wonder if I’m any better than him.”

“Don’t say that,” you murmured, taking his face between your hands.

“Sometimes it scares me how much I want you.  It feels… so wrong and so incredibly right all at the same time.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you want this?” you asked, guiding his hand to the hem of your skirt, pushed halfway up your thighs.  “Because I can wait til we--”

“I want you,” Kay insisted, cutting you off and heat washed through you afresh at his words.

“Who am I to argue?” you murmured, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting it slide down your arms, baring your chest to him.  The way his breath hitched and his emerald eyes traveled over you hungrily only fanned the flames of your want higher still.

Guiding Kay’s hand between your legs, you practically shuddered as his fingers brushed your clothed sex, your panties completely soaked through.

“Oh, [y/n],” Kay gasped, his pupils dilating as he gazed up at you, “you’re so wet, is this all for me?” he asked, swallowing thickly and you nodded.

“Yes, Father.  I want you so bad,” you whined, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear.  “My cunt’s aching for you.”

“Oh God,” Kay moaned, his eyes fluttering shut; the lewdness of your words making him shiver.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he muttered, hooking his finger beneath the crotch of your panties, dragging it aside so he could feel you directly as his mouth resumed its exploration of your now completely bare breasts, your nipples hardening in the chill air.

You gasped as Kay covered one with his mouth, circling your peaked bud slowly as his fingers hesitantly delved your slick folds, refamiliarizing himself with your body.

“Oh--!” you sighed, arching into each touch, Kay’s curls brushing your skin lightly, bringing fresh goosebumps.

“I want to taste you,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he switched to your other breast and his fingers slid out of you, seeking the edge of your knickers with both hands to ease them down your hips.  

Huffing a soft laugh, you leaned back against the top of Kay’s desk, lifting your hips so he could rid you of the offending garment and for a moment Kay’s gaze took you in-- half naked and sprawled back atop his desk, your legs spread open for him.

“[y/n], you’re so beautiful,” he breathed, awe and want in his voice, and he shook his head softly, leaning in to press his lips to the inside of your knee, the feather light caress enough to send a shiver racing through you.  “I never thought I’d get to see you like this again,” Kay confessed, bringing a small smile to your kiss swollen lips.

“Do you want me, Father?” you asked, finding the more you called him that, the more you liked it.

Kay’s eyes flashed, darkened by a lust that always took you by surprise when you saw it on his face.

“Oh God, yes,” he said hoarsely as his lips dragged across your skin, down your inner thigh.  “I want to hear how much you need me,” he said, the longing in his voice clear.

“Please, Father.  Kay,” you panted, watching as he switched legs, kissing you slowly, your anticipation building til you didn’t think you could bear it any longer.  “Please, I need you, Kay,” you whimpered as he paused right before reaching your throbbing sex, his breath fanning over your skin and you squirmed desperately, gasping as he hesitantly kissed you.

His movements were reluctant at first and you couldn’t blame him, he’d been out of practice for a long time, after all.  But as his tongue swiped against you, hitting your bundle of nerves, your breath hitched and you heard him moan softly.

“Guide me, [y/n],” he murmured, his hands sliding up your legs.  “I want to make you feel good, love.”  

A grin tugging at your lips, you nodded breathlessly.  “I can do that.”

This time as he began to explore your cunt with his tongue, you instructed him where to taste you, guiding him to your clit once more, a low moan bursting from your lips when he found it, circling it eagerly, memorizing it’s location before testing you further, alternating between using the tip of his tongue with broader rougher swipes to see how you’d react.

Soon he had you writhing beneath his mouth, having found a perfect rhythm and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your needy sounds.  When you felt his fingers tease your entrance, coating his digits with your slick you let out a soft whine, wanting more and he obliged, pressing into you and you clenched around him, nearly coming at the sensation of being filled.

“Oh, Kay,” you mewled as your body tensed, fighting the urge to dig your fingers into his hair as you came against his mouth, shuddering as he finally lifted his face, wanting to make sure you were completely finished.

“How was--?” Kay cut off with a groan, shaking his head as he helped you sit up.

“What?” you asked gently, tilting his face to wipe his cheeks.

“I don’t wanna be that guy.  You know, the one who’s so self conscious he had to ask about his performance,” he muttered wryly and you smiled, snaking your arms around his neck.

“You still know how to make me feel good, Kay,” you assured him with a content sigh, kissing him tenderly and he seemed to relax.  “Now, how about I take care of this for you?” you asked, your foot gliding over the bulge in his trousers and he groaned.

“I shouldn’t… not again…” he murmured reluctantly, guilt creeping into his voice.  “It should be my penance for what I just did.”

“Kay,” you sighed, reaching for your bra.  “You don’t have to think like that any more,” you said gently.

“It’s going to take me some time to get used to that,” he replied sheepishly.  “Catholic guilt is one hell of a drug.”

“If you say no, I won’t,” you assured him, slipping off his desk.  “I just want to take care of you like you took care of me.”

Kay caught your hand and pulled you back to him with a smile.  “It’s alright, love.  This time I wanted to give without expecting anything in return.”

“Fuck, I love you,” you groaned, your eyes falling to your ruined blouse.  “Now we just gotta figure out how I’m getting home without someone noticing that.”

Little did you know however, that that was the least of your worries.  Quickly moving away from the door, Matthew scowled.  Having come to find you, he’d heard everything; your moans, though stifled had still carried.

-------------------

Everything Taglist: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @slutforrobbiebro @the-freckled-luba @rob-private/@firstpersonnarrator  @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits

[missturtleduck]

hi i saw ur requests were open and i would love if u could do a sokka x reader :) where reader is really shy and he likes to tease her and flirt with her to see her all flustered but she denies him actually liking her bc she thinks it’s just his personality to be funny like that. but then there’s the classic oh no there’s only one bed thing? thank you!

Ooooh I loved writing this! Tropes? Love them. Fluff? So fun, so sweet. I hope you enjoy, anon, and have a very happy holiday! <3

Teasing

Sokka x shy!Reader

It was a well-known fact that Sokka was a tease.

Now, he wasn’t a tease in the common sense, more that he took some joy in being a so-called comedian. Y/N seemed to be the person in their gang that got the brunt of his teasing. Every time he came up with some sarcastic quip, she would laugh along with everyone else – though most of the time she was the only one who found him funny – but then there were the other times.

She had been sparring with Zuko, who was surprisingly adept with swords for a bender, when Sokka had come by whistling with faux innocence. As he took a seat on the floor, his eyes were trained on the fight. Feeling his blue-eyed gaze boring into her, she felt her entire body flush. Steadying her breathing, Y/N pushed down the flustered flutter bats inhabiting her stomach. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she pinned Zuko’s blades to the floor with her own.

“Sokka,” She breathed out, hating how hot she felt. “Sokka, w-what are you doing?”

He grinned. “Just enjoying the view. You know, I always thought red was Zuko’s colour, but you are boasting a lovely shade today.”

Absently, Y/N put a palm to her face, only becoming more flustered as she realised her skin had in fact became darker. As the blood rushed faster through her body, she looked desperately at Zuko for some reprieve.

“Sokka, are you here for any reason other than being a complete clown?” Zuko said, sighing in pure exasperation even as Y/N had him pinned.

The boy ignored him completely. “Has anyone ever told just how adorable you are? Because you really are.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said again, his voice less patient. “Go away before we make you.”

“Alright, alright,” He tutted, hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’ll leave you two to your dance lessons. Call me if you fall; I’ll come and catch you.”

Waiting for him to be out of earshot, Y/N groaned, dropping her sword and freeing Zuko. Her entire face was on fire. Sure, it was a metaphor, a hyperbolic one at that, but if Zuko decided to shove his ignited palm in her face, it would not manage to be as hot as she was feeling now. It might be slightly less sweaty. Ew.

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat, stretching out her aching limbs, pouring water over her roasting head. Y/N, needless to say, was mortified by Sokka’s teasing, but when was she not? She was somewhat shyer than her female friends; Katara had this maternal instinct about her that kicked into overdrive as soon as someone seemed needy. It was honestly scarier than the Avatar State. Toph was just... Toph. The girl was at least four years younger than Y/N and utterly terrifying, approaching people and situations with no fear. Then there was Suki. Suki had a knack of getting people to like her, being the loveable, charismatic leader, she was.

And that left Y/N.

Y/N struggled being heard in many a conversation. Ask her to take a compliment? No. No. Not happening. No thank you. Her shy demeanour was labelled cute by a few different people, though they all seemed to be joking – especially Sokka.

“Do you want me to sort him out for you?”

Y/N looked up, meeting Zuko’s very serious gaze for just a moment before staring at the ground. “No, it’s okay. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What?” Zuko frowned, slumping to the ground too. “What are you on about? He doesn’t flirt with everyone!”

“That wasn’t flirting!” She insisted, feeling that bashful flush creeping in again. 

“He was just teasing, like he does with everyone!”

Zuko’s lips quirked. “He called you adorable.”

“Yesterday, he called Momo adorable.”

“He said you flushed was your colour.”

“And he said that red was yours, sunshine.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll catch you if you fall!”

Y/N stammered. “He could have been talking to either of us!”

There was some silence between them. Y/N didn’t usually mind sitting in silence with Zuko, who was just as awkward as her most of the time. However, the wide, toothy grin like a catgator’s was highly disconcerting.

“Zuko, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but he wasn’t flirting,” Y/N said finally, quietly commanding. “He’s just messing around like he usually does.”

The prince sighed, suppressing his mischievous grin. Raising his swords, the pair charged each other again.

                                                      ✦

In the midst of a war, there wasn’t much space for fun. With the constant movement between the Western Air Temple and many significant locations to build their defences after the Day of Black Sun, Y/N found she hardly had time for anything other than training and strategizing. Sure, she may be considered meek when compared to her peers, but her mind was sharper than her blade.

After watching Aang master firebending, Sokka masterminding a prison break, and Katara nearly murdering a man – all with Zuko’s help – she had some whiplash. She might even say that she had been somewhat blindsided by them, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was when they moved onto Ember Island, however, that Y/N found there to be an issue. In all the excitement, or terror, of being separated from Haru and the others, and possibly murdering Sparky Sparky Boom Man, the gang ended up hiding out on Ember Island.

Spirits, did Y/N love the sunshine. The sand? Not so much, nor the swimsuits. Nevertheless, she much preferred it to Aang’s beloved ancestral temple.

“Okay,” Zuko said as they all collected together in the house, “So there’s a bit of an issue.”

“Fire Nation?” Katara asked, eyes narrowing.

“Worse,” Zuko said, voice grave. “There are seven of us, and only six beds.”

The teenagers all looked between each other with varying looks of embarrassment and disgust. It was Toph who spoke first.

“Well, I for one do not want to share a room,” She scoffed, stomping her foot – a reminder of her power. “I can already hear all of you when we sleep on the ground. I am not missing out on my chance for a quiet night of sleep.”

“That seems fair,” Zuko hummed as he pulled a hat off of a dresser. “Everyone else, unless they have some reason why not, will put their name in here.”

Sokka whined, pointing his finger at the heir of the Fire Nation. “Fine! But they should get the biggest bedroom.”

Y/N swore Zuko smirked. “Done.”

Sat on the floor watching him write names, the group waited anxiously to see who would be sharing a room at least for that night. Mixing up bits of paper, he seemed to be building up some bravado, akin to a showman about to pull a jackalope out of a hat.

“Sokka.”

The boy cursed under his breath as Zuko continued on with his little show, the piece of paper disintegrating as easily as a leaf floating in a breeze.

“And Y/N!”

She met Zuko’s eye, entire body hot, sending a psychic message along the lines of sprits, no, Zuko, no, please, Zuko, don’t do this.

Despite the fact that Y/N knew Sokka was only joking with his teasing, somewhere along the line she had ended up falling for it – for him. It was sudden and violent, the way a meteor crashed through the atmosphere, roaring, brilliant, and completely obliterating anything in its path. Currently, Y/N was that metaphorical meteorite, burning up and crashing into the earth.

Since Zuko apparently couldn’t read minds, she chanced a glance at Sokka. She expected some sort of joke, a quip, anything. Instead, he was deadly silent, stony in his face, staring too at Zuko. Was he blushing, or was she making it up in her head? This question soon slipped from her brain as she those baby blue eyes were staring straight at her.

Tui and La, Agni, spirits above; he hated her.

“Cool!” She said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

“Y/N, we have the entire day before- “

She cut Suki off. “Yep, busy today! Busy, busy, busy. Plenty of strategic planning to do before the big day!”

And she was gone. Even Aang, renowned creator of the air scooter, had never seen a person move so fast, and Y/N wasn’t even a bender. In her haste, she didn’t catch the sly looks, nor the disapproving one courtesy of Katara. She definitely didn’t catch the shy grin on Sokka’s face, muddled with complete embarrassment. Getting as far away from the house as possible was her current goal, and she achieved it with insane speed – and longevity.

For an entire day, Y/N managed to see none of her friends, excluding Appa and Momo. Her animal friends seemed very concerned and very interested in her noughts and crosses diagrams in the black volcanic sand of Ember Island. It was only when Yue began to rise above the horizon that she thought it would be safe to come out. With what felt like a walk of shame, she trekked back to the beach house, a sleeping Momo cradled in her arms like a baby. Even Appa, who had been occupied with all sorts of made-up games throughout the day, was beginning to sway, eyes drooping, weighed down by sleep. Settling them down in the warm sand, Y/N climbed the wooden stairs.

Being quiet used to get her everywhere unseen; it didn’t work that night. Wordless, her friends’ good night wishes falling on deaf ears, she entered the biggest bedroom, alone. Falling face first onto the bed, she muffled a frustrated scream into one of the too many decadent pillows adorning it. Heaving herself onto her back, Y/N groaned dramatically with the effort it took. This bed was so soft. She tried to think of a more comfy, luxurious bed she had ever been on – and failed. The four-poster frame was casting odd shadows across the dark room. It felt especially lonely.

She felt especially lonely.

Sitting up, a low rumble filled the silence. Her stomach was apparently rather unhappy with the distinct lack of food during the day. Y/N had forgotten about that. She weighed up the options; go out and face embarrassment, or skip dinner for the first time in her life. Fortunately, she needn’t think long.

“So, everyone’s going to bed, and I remembered you hadn’t eaten.”

Sokka.

Of course.

“Oh,” Was all she could manage, mentally kicking herself for her utter lack of articulation. “Th-thanks, Sokka.”

Flicking on the light, the shadows no longer seemed odd, nor did the room feel lonely. There, in the doorway, stood Sokka. He was pretty – something that always took Y/N by surprise even though she saw him every day. Sure, he hadn’t grown into his gangly limbs yet, but he was getting there. His shoulders had gotten broader, his arms larger from training. She couldn’t help but imagine how comfy he’d be to lie against, how warm his hold would be.

“I brought snacks?”

Opening her mouth only to close it again, Y/N felt like a fish thrown mercilessly out of water. Instead, she managed a timid pat on the bed. He was slow to react, slower to move, and she only felt more inadequate. Whatever Zuko thought he saw at the temple was wrong.

“Wow, this bed is soft,” Sokka gasped, bouncing lightly on it like a small child. “It’s like sitting on a cloud!”

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that passed her lips as she took a slice of fruit from the platter he had brought in. For the briefest moment, infinitesimally small, Sokka ceased with his childish antics and just looked. Brightening, he seemed to thrive – delight – in her laughter, continuing to goof about with the numerous pillows and posh looking decor.

“Whoa.”

Y/N looked up at him from her laughing, stomach aching with joy. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could get prettier,” He said, brows furrowed, eyes sparkling.

She turned mute in an instant, feeling that all too familiar flush again, only this time it was close – more intense. Silent, she took another piece of fruit, eating it in moments, anything to give her time. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “What? No. I’m not- “

“It’s okay if you are!” Y/N insisted, her smile plastered on and her heart aching. “I know you joke about with us all, and it’s just how you are. It’s not a bad thing, and I know you’re just joking and- “

“Y/N,” Sokka said, almost incredulous. “I’m not joking. I have never joked about that kind of thing with you.”

She stopped dead. “What?”

It wasn’t a question – well, not to Sokka at least. That one word was her address to the universe. It was astonishment, frustration, incredulity, sheer joy, so many emotions all wrapped into one simple word. The moments that passed between that word and their locked gaze spoke a thousand more words, sang a hundred more emotions.  

“You didn’t know?”

Her head was empty. “Prettier?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sokka chuckled weakly, moving the platter to the side.

“Prettier,” Y/N repeated slowly, looking up at him, “As in I was already pretty?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Tui and La, yes.”

Oh.

“Okay,” She said, testing the waters, “And you like it when I blush?”

“Yeah, you look cute,” He admitted, sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking down, bashful, she recalled training with Zuko. “The word you used was adorable.”

No words came in response to that, only a gentle hand on her cheek. Guiding her face up, Sokka looked at her and saw her. Y/N could see him reaching for words that danced in his mind and away from his grasp, so many more pretty, teasing words he could say. But he wasn’t teasing, not really. He certainly wasn’t when he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and easy to melt into; she didn’t need to be shy, not with him.

They shared more sweet kisses, laughing under the moonlight in that fancy bed they got to share. Fruit, a bed, kisses; they shared them all, drifting into an easy sleep as the moon began to slip away into daylight. Basking in the prospect of a lazy morning, they made the most of it.

They weren’t even mad when they found out Zuko rigged the entire thing.

[saidrolav]

Drunk Aurora

Single dad!Sam Wilson x gn!reader

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend dumped you, and you decide to get drunk in a pub but you bump into a handsome man.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of vomit, a small part of angst, mostly fluff.

a/n: I've been heavily inspired by the marvelous @barnesnroses and their fic "Invisible string" go check out their works cuz it makes my heart warm. 🥰 (I know you said i didn't had to credit you but i did it ANYWAY BECAUSE PEOPLE NEED TO SEE WHATCHU WROTE CUZ ITS WOW 🙌)

not my gif!

You knew it. You knew it was going to happen sooner or later and it didn't fail. It happened. Your boyfriend, well, now ex-boyfriend had left you, and you had felt it, your relationship was close to an end. But even through you knew it was gonna end, you didn't said anything, and even through you knew, it still hurted bad deep down in your heart. He left your appartement the morning. All day you sat on your couch watching him coming in and out of your place, his arms full of boxes, in silence. The only thing you managed to say when he told you it was over was an 'okay.' and since then you've been silent. You didn't even cried. You weren't shocked. You were just thinking, well, what am i going to do now ? All by myself. A part of you was screaming 'You don't need him, you're strong!' and the other part was crying their heart out. The thing that the two parts of you agreed on was, drinking. Drinking.. a lot. So that's what you did.

You entered the nearest pub that was quite crowded and approached the fastest you could the bar. You ordered the first alcohol on the list (which was the strongest), and waited patiently for your drink.

You looked around you and saw a couple of people playing cards and others laughing until they were out of breath, it made you smile slightly and when your eyes came back to the bar, your drink was in front of you. It took you no time to think that you were already drinking it in one shot, the alcohol burning your throat and your cheeks at the same time. You asked for another drink, and another one, and another one.. At your.. You didn't remembered how much drinks you had but you were quite drunk, you decided you should probably go home, and when you got out of the pub, you saw that the moon were already up high in the dark sky.

You stared at it for a couple minutes but when you tried to walk, you saw that your legs weren't following the pace and you almost fell, you putted your arm against the nearest wall and tried to find back your balance, looking at the ground. You really wanted to throw up right here in the middle of the street because the alcohol was burning your stomach and it made you feel sick, you bended your legs and catched your breath. You took a big breath and looked back at the street, okay fine, you were good, not going to throw up on the middle of the steet, you still had some dignity. Yes you were drunk in the middle of the night, outside, but at least you weren't going to vomit.

You standed up and it was with wide eyes filled with terror that you realized that you haven't putted your arm against a wall. You were too drunk to realize but you were holding a piece of t-shirt that were belonging to a chest of a man. A pretty handsome man to say at least. He haven't said a word, didn't make a move, didn't do anything until you were feeling better, his chocolate brown eyes were looking at you with concern and waited any sign to prove that you were okay.

"OH MY GOD !" You screamed and it made him jump a little, that's when he realized you were probably drunk, with the scream and the fact that you haven't realized you had grabbed him with his shirt. "Since when you've b-been here ?" You frowned and it made him laugh.

"I guess since i'm stuck with you ?" He smiled and pointed with his index where you were still holding him.

"I'm SO sorry... I mean i'm sorry for you for being stuck with such an handsome person." You winked miserably and he laughed even more at your attempt to flirt with him when you couldn't even walk.

"That's okay, pumpkin, i'm going to take you home just lead me okay ?" He smiled kindly and before you could answer he took you in his arms and lifted you so your legs weren't touching the ground anymore, you let out a little scream which made him chuckle. Damn that guy was strong has hell! He moved you like you were a feather and it made you feel like all sorts of butterflies were erupting in your stomach. He carried you, princess style and waited quietly for your instructions. And he waited quite some time, he had been more than patient with you but suddenly he heard soft snores coming from you and he smiled, he thought you were adorable. He didn't know if he was happy because he could take you to his home or unhappy because you would think he was some sort of freak taking random people in his house.

He finally took control of the situation and bringed you to his appartment, he wasn't going to leave you here anyway, so he thought it was the best choice.

The both of you arrived to his appartment, he tried to make no noises so he wouldn't woke up his son. He putted you on his couch and took off your shoes, putted those next to you and laid a blanket on your sleeping body. He waited a couple minutes and assured himself that you were in deep sleep and went in his bedroom so he could sleep too.

"Dad, DAD !" He jumped out of his bed only to be met with his son, Aiden, and he took him in his arms with a huge smile on his face, Sam had slept at least a good 7 hours.

"What's going on buddy ?" He ruffled his hair while taking him in the kitchen to make the breakfast for the three of you.

"Dad, there's a princess on the couch..." Sam frowned a bit and took a look on the couch and saw you, still asleep which made him smile, he putted his son back on the ground.

"Yeah that's Sleeping beauty, don't wake them up or they'll eat you alive !" He whisper-shouted at his son and at the end of his sentence he added some tickles under Aiden's arms which made him laugh loudly while running away.

Sam took a pan to make some eggs with bacon and putted on some cartoons and Aiden watched these in silence. The only sounds that we were able to hear were the TV and your soft snores that were coming from the couch.

Sam finished his scrambled eggs and bacon and seperated them in three plates, he putted one in front of you on the table of his living room, and one in front of his son who ate it with enthusiasm. He sat down on the seat next to you and ate his own plate while watching the cartoons with Aiden.

He served three big glasses of orange juice and he got worried when he saw that you were still asleep and it was almost 11am, your food was going to get cold. He drank his orange juice fastly and putted down his plate to kneel down next to you. He shaked you softly, trying to wake you up as gently as possible and it worked, you opened slowly your eyes but they widened quickly as the realisation hitted you. Who was this man ? What is this place ? Where the heck are you ? What happened last night ? Before you or Sam could manage to say something you heard a third person talking.

"Dad you woke them up they're going to eat you alive !" Aiden smiled at his dad and the man in front of you couldn't control his laugh when he saw the confusion creeping on your face. You sat up straight and looked around you while you were putting your hair correctly. You stomach groaned when your eyes landed on a plate filled with food and a homemade orange juice, you gave a questionning look to the man next to you but he only he sat back on his seat to eat his own dish.

"You can eat." He simply said with a charming smile which made your heart melt. "I made those for you." "You really didn't had to.." His smile only growed bigger. "But i wanted to." "Oh, thanks.." And you suddenly felt embarassed for letting your sentence in suspense because you didn't remembered his name, if he told you.

"I'm Sam, and this is Aiden." He gave a look at his son and you smiled before giving an akward wave at the kid which he returned fastly. "I'm y/n."

"Hi princess!" You blushed a deep shade of red and chuckled a bit before eating in silence your plate as you were also watching the cartoons on the TV.

When the three of you finished your portions of food, Sam took them along with the empty drinks and went to do the dishes, while Aiden went to the bathroom he had explained everything that happened last night and you were feeling more comfortable around Sam and his son.

Aiden sitted next to you and stared at you until you gave him the attention he wanted, then out of nowhere he blurted suddenly: "Is my dad your prince since he woke you from your 100 years old sleep ?" You grinned widely before taking a look at Sam, but this one had his back turned to you, however you could clearly see his big smirk.

"I guess so ?.." You chuckled slightly, not knowing what to answer to such a young child. You stayed at Sam's house a couple of minutes more, playing with Aiden, laughing, they had made your day a thousand times better, but you had to tell him that you had to leave and it made your heart broke when you saw the puppy dog eyes that his son was giving you.

"I'm gonna drive you home sleeping beauty." Sam said to you and his eyes lightened up when they met yours which made you blush slightly.

"No that's okay i don't leave that far i can walk." You nodded to yourself before returning his huge smile.

"That's not what was happening last night," He laughed and you joined him. Your cheeks were hurting from how much you smiled and chuckled that morning. "But you sure ?"

"Yeah, don't worry i'll be fine!" You were soon about to tell him goodbye but as soon as the two of you were in front of his appartment he screamed a "wait!" before disappearing again inside. He came back a couple of seconds later with a pen and he wrote his number on the back of your hand, and he added a "for drunk Aurora." while laughing to himself. When you read it, it made you smile brightly before kissing his cheek, making him blush lightly. You turned your back and was ready to leave when you heard him screaming behind you:

"THE PRINCE WILL BE WAITING FOR THE CALL OF HIS MAJESTY !"

You gave him two thumbs up while chuckling and walking backwards so you could see his charming smile still on his lips. The two parts of you really were right, sometimes, getting drunk was the right option when you could run into Sam Wilson.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Ten, George’s miscalculation 

 read on AO3 here

I do realise this is is the third thing I have put out in as many days and that kind of production level is unheard of for me haha.

This has a little bit of NSFW stuff right at the beginning of the chapter so I’m going to put it all under the read more line.

Warnings, NSFW and Overdose.

Bill slid a hand through his wife’s long silky hair as she continued to use her mouth to pleasure him. They had always enjoyed making love in the mornings, but lately Fleur had been unhappy with him and not been so receptive. But this morning she had chosen to take the initiative, and Bill was in no position to stop her, not that he ever wanted to stop his incredible witch.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, concentrating hard, it was almost a relief when she sat up gracefully and mounted him, sliding down his girth and gasping at the sensation, massaging him from the inside, he raised his hands to her breasts her ivory skin almost luminous in the pre-dawn light, sliding his roughened hands down her body to stimulate her more. She swore elegantly in French as his fingers swirled around her sweet spot, riding him a little harder. He could always tell when she was completely lost in the moment when she reverted back to her native language. He wanted control and went to flip them over but she shook her head pushing him back down stopping him. He growled a little and she laughed deeply and throatily, then gasped and swore again as he twisted his hips slightly increasing the pressure on her body. When she wanted to take charge he just had to lie back and take it and do his best to control himself so her pleasure did not end too quickly. He was having more trouble than he normally did keeping his body calm, her soft moans were getting stronger, he could feel his body winding up despite his efforts to keep control. 

“Fleur.” He gasped, letting her know he would not be able to last much longer.

“J’suis proche.” She breathed back to him, he grabbed one of her breasts roughly tweaking the nipple and he knew she was there as her hips moved with less control. “Mon amour, oh mon dieu!” The feel of her climax tipped him over the edge and he could no longer hold on, he gripped her hips in his hands as he emptied himself. She collapsed onto his chest breathing heavily.

Bill kissed the top of her head as they later rested together, her head in the crook of his shoulder, one leg lying over his.

“Not that I am complaining,” he started gently rubbing a hand along her back. “But what did I do to stop you from being cross with me?” She moved slightly so she could look up at him, her deep blue eyes sparkling.

“I have been thinking about family, about why you want to have children now. I am happy you did not tell your mother the truth about why we were having the argument”

“It’s none of their business.” He replied simply running a hand through her silvery tresses, her hair felt like liquid as it slipped quickly through his fingers.

“As you say,” She agreed. “perhaps I have been selfish to think that a baby would spoil what we have. I love our house. The life we have together. I do not want to stop being me, just yet.”

“You made that clear to me my love, and I understand. I was being unreasonable to expect you to stop working and start a family straight away. If you want to wait I am okay with that.”

“Merci my love, but I am not sure that I do want to wait for much longer. When I saw Teddy my heart just melted for that sweet child.”

“You really want us to start trying?” His heart leapt at the thought but he tried to keep the hope out of his voice. Her reasons to wait had been perfectly valid, and his assumptions had been more than a little behind the times. When she had stormed off to Hogwarts to see her friend, leaving him angry and confused, and more than a little bit jealous. It had been a bit of a wake-up call for him. He remembered his siblings as children, had helped his mother with looking after them, and he had always assumed that all witches wanted to have children as soon as they were married. Of course, they had not wanted to while there was such darkness in the world, but when they were finally free to live again it had been top on his list of priorities. It had been until he told his wife this.

“Perhaps not trying. Perhaps no longer preventing?” He understood her meaning and felt it was something he definitely could be on board with. He loved the time he had to spend just the two of them, but he also missed the joy and madness of a house full of children. He kissed her deeply letting her know how happy he was that she had changed her mind. 

 *

  Harry and Ron had been so busy the last few months leading up to christmas, actually being told to stop and take a break had been quite a shock for them. Keeping busy had been something they could both focus on, but it was nice to have Hermione and Ginny home for a while.

They all knew how difficult Christmas was going to be this year, difficult in completely different ways for each of them. Harry and Hermione hadn’t even had a Christmas last year, they had both been rather shaken up from their visit to Godric’s Hollow to even care what day it was. Ron himself had been too filled with guilt and remorse that day to think about anything past his missing friends, until he had heard his name from the deluminator and found another level of determination and purpose. He wanted to make this one a bit more special for all of them. 

He was planning to leave Hermione’s house early on the Monday before Christmas, they had got up and had breakfast together but he insisted he needed to go to Diagon Alley alone. There had been no point pretending he was doing anything other than Christmas shopping, it wouldn’t have taken Hermione’s brains to figure that out. 

“So do I get any clues as to what you are buying me this year?” Hermione asked as they sat at the kitchen table at her parent’s house, she was wearing casual muggle trousers she had called leggings with a giant jumper that was almost as long as a dress, and thick fluffy knitted socks. One foot was resting on the seat of her chair and she was half hugging her leg as she read the profit. He had glanced at the headline when the owl had delivered it, but knew if there was anything significant he needed to know, his girlfriend would tell him. He was already wrapped up against the cold December air, his Gryffindor scarf wound tightly around his neck and party obscuring his face. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head fondly. 

“And spoil the surprise?” He chuckled. “Let me know something my girlfriend doesn’t for a little while longer.” She pulled his head down to give him a proper kiss, moving his scarf out of the way. 

“Don’t be all day, I will miss you.” He cleared his throat at her suggestive tone, and considered shopping another day, but he had made arrangements with and he couldn't change them now. 

What she didn’t know was that his Christmas shopping was already done and he was planning on spending the day organising something special for the family with George. He had been trying his best to spend more time with his closest brother. George was working too hard, and drinking too much, especially now that Angelina had started her new job and was spending a lot of her time away from him. George kept trying to play down his relationship but Ron knew how much he missed her when she was not around. Ron had been helping in the shop when his Auror training would allow it, he could now create many of the products that sat on the shelves without any trouble at all. George had actually been impressed with how quickly he had picked up the somewhat tricky recipes. He had told him without any hint of sarcasm.

The air was crisp and cold as Ron made his way towards the joke shop from the leaky caldron, frost still clung to the fabric awnings and shaded corners of the cobbled street, his breath fogging the air. It had taken him longer to leave Hermione’s house than he had originally planned. They had showered together for an exquisitely long time that morning. 

As he walked along the colourfully decorated streets still thinking about how wonderful his girlfriend was, he stopped at a little bakery and bought a couple of bacon rolls for himself and his brother, who no doubt was still asleep and would have nothing in his kitchen apart from coffee and fire whiskey. Biting into his own snack he continued on his short journey.

The brightly painted shop caught the eye from a distance and Father Christmas in his reindeer pulled sleigh was still whizzing around the shop window. Snow was falling from the roof of the building and disappearing as soon as it landed on the pavement. The effect of the whole thing was brilliant. Portable snow was another new product that George had perfected. Ron suppressed a slight agitation as the lock did not open as he placed his hand on the doorknob. George had said he would add him to the building security, but not yet it seemed. Taking his wand he muttered the password at the lock and heard it click. The door chimed Ho Ho Ho as he entered but apart from that the shop was eerily quiet without the noise of customers. Snow fell inside too but only on the large Christmas tree that dominated the centre of the shop it’s branches decorated with an array of products. Remembering to lock the door behind him he took the stairs two at a time. 

“George!” He yelled opening the flat’s front door. “Hey, George get up you lazy arse I’ve got you some breakfast.” The paper bag dropped to the floor as he saw the body of his brother lying face down behind the sofa. 

  *

                   Harry was enjoying himself this morning, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks, due to the positive influence of Ginny. He was sitting on his new broom wrapped up against the cold watching her fly. It had been so long since he had flown, the long summer they had spent together seemed ages ago. Of course then they had been able to fly in just shorts and t-shirt but now it was definitely warm jumpers hats and scarves weather and the bulky clothing was restricting his movement. He had been tempted to take off his coat more than once but he was not working hard enough to stay warm without it, and a warming charm would more than likely overheat him the way he was feeling right now. He had only stopped to grab a drink, but he couldn’t take his eyes from watching Ginny. She always looked amazing on a broomstick, she was fast, confident, and graceful. He knew he had flying skills of his own but he had not been practicing like she had. She was flying rings around him today, literally. She was laughing as she pulled her broomstick up beside him and deftly caught the water bottle he threw at her. They were hovering over the paddock at the back of the Burrow. The air was crisp but still, a hard frost still covered the ground, the winter sun was barely above the horizon. He manoeuvred his broom a little closer so he could wrap his arm around her. 

“You are flying brilliantly,” He told her honestly, kissing her temple. “I was struggling to keep up with you. I am so out of practice.”

“And here I was thinking you were going easy on me.” She laughed. “Hopefully we can convince everyone else to play when they are all here later.” He nodded his agreement, then before she was ready shot off towards the other side of the paddock. Before he was even half way there she had caught up, her hair streaming behind her as she beamed at him. He considered his options for a split second before Ginny decided for him and turned her broom sharply cutting his path, he barely managed to change his direction in time. He was about to give chase again when a silver flash and Ron’s jack Russell was running around his head. 

“George is at St Mungo’s please come, bring mum, tell everyone!” Ron’s voice had sounded calm but his agitation was evident by the behaviour of his patronus before it vanished. They wasted no time in discussing with each other what could have happened, they both dived for the ground, Ginny running into the house while Harry put their brooms away quickly. He rushed inside when he heard Mrs Weasley cry out in shock. Ginny had an arm around her mother’s shoulders and was leading them to the fireplace. 

“Can you go get Dad from work? I will call everyone else from the hospital.” He nodded at her and watched them walk into the green flames before running back outside and apparating to the ministry. 

  *

  Angelina stumbled out of the floo at St Mungo’s and would have fallen on the floor if not for a strong hand grabbing her elbow until she could catch her balance. 

“Thanks.” she said politely then recognised the green eyes staring back at her and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back a little awkward with this rather tactile greeting. She usually enjoyed putting her old teammate off balance but this was not the time, she just needed a hug. “I came as soon as I could. I've been worried sick. What happened? Can I see him?” Harry opened his mouth to answer but stepped aside as he spotted someone else approaching.

“Angelina!” Ginny yelled and barrelled into her hugging her fiercely. “Come on he was asking for you.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the wards walking quickly. Harry took her bag and followed without a word. “The bloody idiot’s been taking the draft of peace to help him sleep, he mixed it with fire whiskey last night. If Ron hadn’t been going to see him I don’t know what would have happened.” She explained then started grumbling under her breath muttering more insults to her brother’s intelligence, anger flushing her cheeks. If Ginny was this angry with her brother it was doubtful he was still seriously hurt. “They revived him and pumped his stomach. The healers say he will have to stay in for a few days until his levels are properly balanced, whatever that means.” She stopped for a moment and turned her attention on Angelina. “Did you know he was self medicating? He brewed his own potion, it’s supposed to be taken under medical advice. He made it far too strong.” She closed her eyes for a moment, the fear for her brother coming to the surface. “Why could I not see? I should have helped him more.” 

 “I didn’t know he was taking it, I promise. We enjoy a few drinks when we spend evenings together but it is never to the point of passing out, nothing stronger than beer.” She looked at her friends kindly. Harry was now holding Ginny as if she would fall if he didn’t, she accepted his embrace without comment resting her head on his chest. Angelina suppressed a pang of jealousy for their relationship, they were so openly in love it was sweet. However it was hard to watch when you were desperately in love yourself and having to hold it back for fear of rejection. “You didn’t see it, because he didn’t want you to. He is stubborn with his grief.” She didn’t add that every Weasley she knew was equally stubborn but catching Harry’s eye she knew he had caught the unsaid sentiment.

Angelina saw the crowd of redheads up ahead and knew that George would be behind the one door on this stretch of corridor. They were all looking towards it in concern as they huddled together. Ron was sitting on a flimsy hospital chair, his hands laced behind his bowed head. Hermione sat beside him rubbing his back in a way that said she had been trying to comfort him for a while with little success. Everyone else was standing around, Fleur was comforting Molly in a very role reversal way holding her close and rubbing her back. Arthur was off to one side speaking with a tall wizard dressed in the unmistakable robes of a healer, Percy stood by his father's side paying close attention to what was being said. Bill stood as if on guard by the door his arms crossed his wand in his hand. Ginny walked her past them all. 

“He kicked us all out.” Bill stated going to stop their progress, Ginny just glared up at her oldest brother who actually shyed back slightly at her look. Angelina was always amazed at how easily the tiny form of Ginny could overpower her brothers with nothing more than her presence and a glare. Bill seemed to be weighing his options before he shrugged and stood aside, “Well don’t blame me if he throws things at you, I gave you fair warning.” 

“He won’t kick me out.” Angelina said confidently. “If he tries I will kill him myself.” Ginny gave her another hug and opened the door, letting her go on alone.

The room she entered was quiet, George’s was the only occupied bed, the other was stripped to the bare mattress. He was propped up on pillows with a tube running from his arm up to a bag containing clear liquid. His eyes were closed but she knew he was awake, his right hand would occasionally move or twitch with his constant nervous energy. The only time she knew he was ever completely still was when he was sleeping. She moved to stand at the foot of his bed. He looked pale under his freckles, his cheekbones were more prominent than she remembered the last time she had seen him. His hair was getting long and it looked unwashed, she wondered if he had eaten a proper meal since she had left.

“You know there are less dangerous ways to get my attention. If you wanted to see me you should have just Owled.” She told him firmly placing hands on hips. 

“Angie?” He croaked, his voice a bare whisper, his eyes staying closed. “Are you really there? I have been dreaming of you. You can’t be here, you should be in Montrose. I am not worth losing your new job. This is nothing, just a little miscalculation.”

“I always knew you were a fool but I did not think you were a bloody idiot too.” She had not taken a step closer to the bed, her feet felt like lead. She disliked hospitals greatly, unfortunately it was an inevitable part of Quidditch, and hospitals always reminded her of her mother’s battle and its eventual inevitable end. She had been only thirteen when she lost her mum, a difficult time for her and her dad, especially trying to cope with a confused girl going through puberty. Fred and George had cheered her up without ever knowing they were doing it, their friendship had been so important to her growing up. It had meant the most that first September after her mother’s passing.

Fred had always been the more confident twin, although few had ever bothered to notice, he had asked her out for the Yule ball. They’d had a great time together and had shared a few kisses, but the rest of the time he spent it telling her how great George would be for her, and she had silently agreed with him. George had never asked her out, he had just watched her with his big puppy dog eyes when he thought she was not paying attention. Any time she thought he would finally ask her, Fred would start to flirt outrageously, making her laugh, and his brother would back off with a sigh. It had been like that the whole time they were at school. Then one day last April, when everything was getting really frightening he had turned up at her door and they had connected in a way they never had before and started snogging right there without the need for words. Perhaps it was the fear of possibly dying tomorrow that they had ended up in bed perhaps that had just been an excuse, either way she would never regret it. “I thought we were just casual anyway, just a bit of fun you said.” She didn’t want him to know how deeply her feelings truly ran. She was terrified he would back off and shut her out. She alone fully knew how much he was hurting, how much he was refusing to admit to even himself that he was. She hoped that this would be a wakeup call for him to accept the help of his amazing family, to admit to himself he was not okay. 

“Oh Angie, if only you knew how much you mean to me. I’ve liked you for so long. Fred said I should not waste a day, if I liked you I should tell you. Why can’t I do that?” She went to answer him and convince him she really was standing right there but he continued to speak. “It’s not me you want, not really. Fred’s gone so I am the runner up prize.” The bitterness in that statement was unquestionable. 

“Blind as well as stupid.” She murmured, finally moving to his bedside. “I like you, I have always liked you. I miss Fred too, but he was my friend. It’s you I want to be with.” She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. His eyes fluttered open as she did so, the arm without a tube in it tried to hug her.

“You really are here?” He breathed. “I love you.” She could not stop the grin that spread over her face at his words. 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She scolded mildly before kissing him again. “I love you too and if you ever try to kill your self again I will kill you.” 

“It was a mistake, I don’t want to kill myself.” He slid the back of his hand against her cheek. “Why is it so difficult to be taken seriously? I try so hard to be okay, it’s exhausting. When I go to bed I don’t sleep, not without a little help, I thought it couldn’t hurt. Instead I have hurt everyone, including myself.” 

“You had me worried sick you bastard.”

“The healer who treated me wants me to come in regularly. I am going to do it. Fred would be very upset if I worked myself to death, even if it was to keep our dream alive.”

“Fred would want you to be happy.”

“I know, but I never thought I would have to be happy without him.” She kissed him again more gentle this time, and pressed her forehead to his. 

“When my mum died so many people would say to me. She’s not really gone as long as you continue to love and remember her. I tried to believe it but most of the time I thought it was bullshit. But then when we won the house cup in fifth year and everyone was so happy. I thought I felt her there with me, for just a moment. It will never go away, but it gets easier to carry, and sometimes you have to let others help you too.”

“I will, I promise.” His eyes were a little bloodshot but they looked at her with such sincerity she knew it was true. They were going to be better together, there was a long way to go but he was definitely headed down a better path. 

 *

  Charlie floo’d home from the international port key department to find an empty house. 

“Mum? Dad?” He called to no reply. His concerns started to grow as he saw the abandoned mugs of tea still sitting on the kitchen table. His mother would never leave dishes unwashed. He walked to his mother’s clock, every hand apart from his own was pointing at St Mungo’s. “Fuck.”

Dropping his bag in the middle of the kitchen he Apparated right there. He rushed over to the welcome witch who gave him a practiced smile. “My family is here. Where are they?”

“Do you know the patient's name sir?”

“Weasley.” He yelled

“Charlie?” Bill strode over to his brother and pulled him into a hug. “Sorry, with all the commotion, I forgot you were getting in today.”

                  “Who is it? What’s happened?” Charlie asked, still panicked despite how calm Bill appeared to be. Bill always appeared calm.

“It’s George but he’s okay, more embarrassed about it all if I’m honest” the taller brother laid his arm across the shorter’s broad shoulders and led him to a set of chairs. “We have all been busy with our own shit we didn’t notice how much he’s been struggling to cope. He overdosed on a very potent brewing of the draft of peace. Ron found him, he’s been keeping a closer eye on George and helping him out in the shop as much as he can. It could’ve been worse, he was only comatose for a few hours.”

“At least one of us is looking out for the rest.” Charlie stated glumly. Bill looked at him sharply.

“Hey! That’s not fair. He has been very good at pretending to be okay, and it’s not like any of us are coping much better. Losing Fred, I still can’t believe he is actually gone, I half expect him to appear one day claiming it was all an elaborate prank.” Charlie snorted at that. 

“Pretty poor taste.” Was all he said and Bill nodded his agreement. They sat in silence for a moment. Charlie wanted to go see George and the rest of the family but something about Bill’s body language made him stay and wait. Bill and Charlie had always kept in close communication, the only person he perhaps conversed with more with was Ginny because she always had all the news from everybody else, and she never criticised his life choices like he knew their mother would. Bill had always been his confidant, his adviser, the first time he’d ever got drunk it had been with his big brother, true it had been Bill's fault. Likewise it had been him who had first heard about Fleur and his nerves about introducing her to the family.

“It’s so good to see you, I miss you.” Bill spoke up eventually, Charlie just nodded. They were not the type to delve into deep and emotional conversations, for them this was the equivalent of holding on each other and weeping.

“It is not easy to be so far away from you all, especially right now, but I love my work, and I know I would not be any help if I hung around at home. I just don’t feel like I fit there anymore.”

“I admit I found it difficult living there when I came back from Egypt. Even more so when Fleur moved in too. Having our own space has really helped. Don’t guilt yourself into coming back. George is as fine as he can be considering. We are all going to take better care in looking out for him, and he has promised to get professional help. Your heart is in Romania, with your dragons, even mum and dad know that. Come on, I will take you to see everyone else, I have been hogging your company for too long.”

Everyone was pleased to see Charlie. They crowded around him like the long lost relative he was, even George managed to brighten up at his brother’s arrival. Everyone apart from Ron who was still sitting with his head in his hands when Charlie sat beside him. 

“Cheer up Ronnie, you didn’t put him here.” Charlie said as brightly as he could muster.

“Didn’t I?” Ron stated glumly. “If I hadn’t been selfish last night and stayed over at George’s instead of my…” He paused looking around for their mother, seeing she was out of earshot he continued but still kept his voice low. “My girlfriend’s. He wouldn't be here now.”

“True he wouldn't be now. But who’s to say what would have happened another day? Unfortunately this was bound to happen eventually and what if it was a day nobody visited? You were there to save him Ron, he’s going to get the help he needs.”

“I suppose you are right.” He agreed glumly.

“Of course I am. Now go and see Georgie so he can say thank you for saving his life.” Ron managed a weak smile at that and got up to speak to George.                  

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {9}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: I shan’t lie. This is my favorite Feyre x Rhysand chapter. Fluff explosion.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

Sidenote: The comments you all leave me and the asks you send regarding this fic mean the world to me! Truly.

Enjoy!

Cassian tensed, his body going still at the feeling of Nesta’s mouth against his own. 

His hesitation was clear.

Nesta pulled back, blue-gray eyes wild and intrigued and slightly annoyed. 

“Lady Nesta-”

“Don’t speak,” she said, voice quiet, rough and unfiltered. “Please.”

Cassian wasn’t sure what to think. Nesta Archeron was a cold, brutal woman, but to say he hadn’t been attracted to her, hadn’t felt a connection to her, would have been a lie. 

Cassian opened his mouth to say something more, but nothing came out. 

Her lips found his, once more. 

She was hungry, desperate, Cassian knew it. He knew he should have pulled away, it was inappropriate on so many levels. He was the help, she was a Lady. He was a bastard with nothing, she had a title and a future. Yet, none of this mattered once she kissed him.

She tasted sweet, like lemon and vanilla, an odd, delicious combination. This was not like the barmaid that he had contact with in the upper level of the bar, but it was something far more natural, far more primal.

Cassian kissed her back, his mouth hungrily finding hers, his hands wrapping around her slender waist. 

Nesta made a soft, desperate noise as she wove her fingers into his damp hair. 

Cassian knew it was wrong, but he sure as hell didn’t care. 

He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked to the shade of a large oak tree. The sun was bright, although it was still early. The sun had risen not long ago, it seemed. Cassian had gone out just as the sun was rising, having barely slept after his night out with Rhysand. He was exhausted, but the chilled water of the lake had woken him up a bit, and Nesta’s tongue against his own had certainly woke him up much more.

“Nesta,” he breathed, as her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt that he had just buttoned moments before. 

She said nothing, but looked at him with pleading eyes. He knew that she was no longer seeing Tomas Mandray, and perhaps she was lonely. Or, perhaps, she was just lit with passion from seeing him nude in the lake. Either way, Cassian could not say that he did not long to be inside of her.

If he did, it would be a lie. 

She was beautiful. A cold, miserable, beautiful woman. She despised him, that much he was certain of, but now, as her hands slid beneath his shirt, he wasn’t so sure.

He wasn’t sure about anything.

All he knew was that he had to have her.

Now.

He laid her down atop the grass, her legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. His mouth found her neck, and trailed beneath the neckline of her day dress. 

Her eyes closed, her hands tightening around his neck, her nails digging into his back. She tore his unbuttoned shirt from his body, discarding it among the dewy grass. 

Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip.

For a Lady, she was not tame whatsoever. 

Cassian didn’t bother waiting until they were undressed. He’d always hated undressing a lady, they wore far too many layers, far too many buttons and ribbons and hooks. 

Cassian pushed up on his knees and unbuttoned his trousers as Nesta discarded her undergarments. 

He did not ease into it, nor did she ask him to.

Cassian thrust himself into Nesta, his lips finding hers once more as she cried out against his mouth. He cursed at how wet she was, how open and ready she had been for him. Perhaps every hateful word she had spat at him over the past month since his arrival had an underlying meaning.

Or, perhaps, she was just a woman with needs who liked to defy the standards of high society. 

Cassian didn’t give a fuck, either way, as she flipped him on his back, held a delicate hand against his throat, and rocked her hips, back and forth. 

He watched her every movement in awe, intensely. The way her eyes fluttered shut, the way her head tilted back, the sunlight hitting her skin perfectly. The way her soft, pink lips remained parted, her breathing hard and uneven. He admired her flushed, pale skin, the strands of hair that had fallen loose from its clip. The way her body moved over his, completely aware of what she was doing, as a soft, feminine moan broke the silence. 

Cassian’s hands slid beneath her skirts, grabbing her ass as she rode him in perfect rhythm. 

He had a feeling all hell would break loose soon.

But for now, hell could wait. 

~~~~~

“Lady Feyre!” Alis burst into her room, sending Feyre jolting into sitting position, eyes still half closed.

“Hmm? What? Yes? Alis?” she sputtered, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it? Have I missed something? Is something wrong?”

“No, my Lady, but you have a guest in the parlor,” Alis said, out of breath as if she’d been running through the halls. She threw open the wardrobe and began pushing gowns out of the way.

“A guest?” Feyre groaned. “At this hour? It’s barely past sunrise.”

She looked out the window. Okay, so it was a little past sunrise, but it was still quite early for guests. 

“Lord Rhysand,” Alis beamed, pulling out an olive day dress. 

Feyre froze, then fell back on her bed and pulled a pillow over her face. Lord Rhysand. She had spent an hour pleasuring herself the night before because of that horrid, self absorbed man. 

“Wasn’t he just here for supper?” Feyre muttered into her pillow. “Tell him to go away. I’m ill.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Alis said, throwing Feyre’s blankets off the bed.

Feyre groaned, lying on her bare mattress like a dead fish. 

Once Alis snatched the pillow away, she was left looking at a very unhappy Feyre.

“I wish to go back to bed,” Feyre said.

“And I wish for you to get up and put on this dress so that I can quickly do your hair,” Alis said, with just as much sass. “You mustn’t keep him waiting.”

“No?” Feyre lifted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Because it’s rude,” Alis chastised. “Now, up you go.”

With one last groan, Feyre stood and did as she was told. Twenty minutes later she was dressed, her hair was done, and she was walking out of her bedroom with Alis.

“I know you enjoy your independence, my dear, but this is what your mother wanted for you,” Alis said, gently, once they were in the hallway.

Feyre let out a breath, and nodded. She smiled at Alis, thankful she was always looking out for her girls.

She knew it was what her mother wanted. What her father wanted, too. Perhaps it was even what she wanted, which was what terrified her the most. 

Rhysand was in the parlor, looking out of a floor-length window at the pasture. Hearing them approach, he turned and met her gaze. He bowed his head, then smiled. “Thank you, Alis.”

Alis curtsied, then gave Feyre a wink before excusing herself.

“Is there a reason for this ridiculously early morning call?” Feyre asked.

Rhysand chuckled. “Yes.”

Feyre waited, but he said nothing more. “And?”

“Come with me,” he said, and before she could reply, he was exiting the parlor.

“You think you can just tell me to come and I’ll come?” Feyre scoffed, but he was off, nearly in the foyer.

“We’re losing time, Feyre, darling!”

After cursing his name, Feyre stomped through the manor after him. “Wherever you’re taking me, it better be good.”

“Have I ever disappointed you before?” he crooned.

Feyre barked a laugh. “Don’t make me shame you, it would ruin your pride.”

“You’ll find that my pride is unruinable,” he winked, opening the front door and closing it behind them.

They walked to the stables and untied his mare from the post in which he’d left her. He held out his hand to Feyre.

She blinked. “What?” 

Rhysand tilted his head back in mock annoyance. It was the most un-Lord like thing Feyre had ever seen. “Must we do this before everything?”

Feyre shrugged. “I like to argue. Is that a problem?”

Rhysand dropped his hand and shook his head, smiling faintly. “You are a difficult woman.”

Feyre had a feeling women did not make themselves difficult for the Lord of Velaris often. 

“I am perfectly capable getting myself onto your horse,” she said, stepping toward the mare, then looking around. “I’ll only need that step stool.”

When Rhysand gave her a look, she shrugged. “What? Have you ever tried to get up on a horse wearing a dress?”

Rhysand laughed. “Wishing you had your little boys clothes on, are you?” 

Feyre gave him a venomous glare as he grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the saddle. A moment later, he was seated behind her, arms around her, grabbing the reins. Feyre hated sitting side-saddle. It was deeply uncomfortable, but she would not allow Rhysand the pleasure of her hiking her skirts up to her knees to sit like he was, one leg on each side.

Rhysand clicked his tongue and his mare began to trot. She was beautiful. Black fur, black mane.

“What’s her name?” Feyre asked.

“Morrigan,” Rhysand said, rolling his eyes.

Feyre lifted a brow. “Why are you rolling your eyes? That’s a lovely name.”

“Yes, but my cousin gifted her to me nearly a decade ago. My cousin, Morrigan. Who named the horse after herself, of course.” A faint smile appeared, making Feyre think he adored his cousin much more than he was letting on. “Typically, I just refer to her by names that no Lady should hear. With affection, of course.”

Feyre chuckled. “The horse or your cousin?”

Rhysand’s grin widened. “Both. Mostly the horse.” 

They rode in silence for a moment, Feyre’s shoulder bumping into his chest. They were close, as they always seemed to be when riding together. It was intimate, but not in a sexual way. Feyre enjoyed that type of intimacy. Being able to be close to someone without feeling uncomfortable or wanting to hump them relentlessly. Although humping didn’t sound quite so awful, not that she had any experience in that area.

“You’re blushing.”

Feyre blinked. “I am not.”

Rhysand chuckled.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, now.” She attempted to keep her distance, although there was little distance between them to keep. 

“No,” he said, grinning as wide as he could.

Feyre couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head as they left their land behind and began their journey toward the village. 

“Are you kidnapping me?” Feyre asked.

Rhysand shook his head. “No. I’m taking you to meet my mother.” 

Feyre froze. “What?”

“I’m taking you to meet-”

“No, no. I heard you.”

“Good, we’ll be there in a moment.”

“I-You-But...I’m not prepared!”

Rhysand looked down at her, as if she were crazy. “You have to prepare before you meet someone?”

“Someone’s mother, yes! Especially when that someone is…”

Rhysand lifted a brow, waiting for her to finish. When she didn’t, he supplied, “Your future husband?”

Feyre scoffed. “Don’t put words into my mouth.”

Rhysand snorted, shifting himself on the saddle, his body pressed up against her side. “Don’t worry. You’ll like her.” 

Feyre wasn’t so sure, but said nothing more. A moment later, Rhysand stopped at the same inn they had been in a few days prior. Isobel’s Inn. 

Feyre kept her lips sealed as Rhysand hopped down, then took her hands and helped her to the cobblestone. Morrigan was led away, but not before she huffed in Rhysand’s face, and Rhysand said something that sounded like, Yeah, I love you, too, you cranky old witch. 

“You truly are trying to jeopardize my virtue, aren’t you,” Feyre mumbled as they entered the threshold. 

Rhysand chuckled as he said, “Not today, Feyre, darling.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What? Feyre? That’s your name, is it not?” Rhysand asked, leading her up the wooden staircase.

“No, darling,” Feyre said, keeping close behind.

“Shall I call you sweetheart, instead?” Rhysand asked.

“Please don’t.”

Rhysand’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. 

To Feyre’s surprise, they went past the room in which he had been staying the other night, down to the end of the hall. He knocked, quietly, before the door opened and a tall, beautiful blonde woman, probably only a year or two older then Feyre herself, opened the door and smiled. “Ah, you’ve arrived. Went to your room a while ago to bring you breakfast, but you’d already left.”

Something like jealousy bubbled in the pit of Feyre’s stomach. She quickly brushed it away.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Feyre, this is my cousin, Morrigan. Mor, this is Feyre.”

“Ah, who the horse is named after,” Feyre said.

Mor laughed. “Yes, that old ass has a beautiful name, doesn’t she?”

Feyre liked her already.

She stepped aside and welcomed them in. The room was slightly larger than the one Rhysand was occupying, looking far more homely with furniture and decor. Sitting in an armchair in the corner was a woman, most likely in her mid-forties, with hazel eyes and gray streaks through her black hair. She wore a simple, brown day dress, and when she saw Rhysand, her eyes lit up. 

“Good morning, mama,” he said, walking to where she sat and kissing her forehead, softly. “This is Feyre.”

Feyre stood just inside the doorway, Mor behind her. The room was quiet as Rhysand’s mother smiled. 

Feyre curtsied, “Hello.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Feyre,” she smiled. “My name is Isobel. I have heard a lot about you.”

Feyre knew her cheeks had turned pink, but nobody commented on it.

“Please, dear, come sit,” Isobel smiled, gesturing to the chair beside hers. “I would get up, but I’m afraid I’m feeling too weak today.”

Feyre sat opposite of Isobel, trying to connect all the dots. “Do you own this inn?”

“Yes,” Isobel smiled. “Bought it about a decade ago, after I left Velaris.”

“She took this piece of filth and turned it into quite the lovely little inn,” Mor smiled. “I’m going to go to the kitchen for some tea and biscuits.”

She excused herself and hurried out of the room.

“Rhysand tells me he wishes to marry you, but you think him a fool,” Isobel said.

Feyre hesitated. “I- oh, no, I-”

Isobel broke into a fit of laughter, which ended in a cough. Rhysand reached his hand toward her, but she shook her head, catching her breath, cough fading. “I don’t blame you, my dear. He is a fool, all men are. But, as far as fools go, he is a good one. I may be biased, being his mother, but I believe he turned out quite well.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes - the second time in five minutes he had made such a gesture - and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I promise I did not bring you here so that my lovely mother could talk me up.”

Feyre laughed, quietly. 

“Unless it’s working,” Rhysand went on. “Then, by all means.” 

The morning went on like that, and Feyre was truly enjoying herself. Mor returned with tea and biscuits, and Isobel told Feyre of how she ended up living back in the town she’d been born, instead of Velaris. Feyre decided that Rhysand’s father was a total prick. Rhysand also had a sister, who was married and lived in Velaris with her husband and their newborn son. 

As hours had passed, Isobel and Mor began telling the most embarrassing stories of Rhysand, the mighty Lord of Velaris. Feyre was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.

Rhsyand hadn’t taken his hands away from his face in five minutes. 

“Oh!” Mor said, eyes growing bright. “Let us tell the one of his sixteenth birthday, when-”

“No,” Rhysand interrupted, dropping his hands. “If you tell that story I shall never speak to you again.” 

Mor opened her mouth, but Rhysand interrupted, once more, “I swear it.”

“Oh, please?” Feyre asked, beaming. “I’ve learned so much about you. I only wish to learn more.”

“Then perhaps we can tell stories of my accomplishments?” Rhysand suggested.

Isobel scoffed. “But those aren’t as funny, are they?”

Rhysand tilted his head back, dramatically. “What have I done?”

“So, what happened on his sixteenth birthday?” Feyre asked.

“Well,” Mor began.

“Don’t,” Rhysand warned.

“He got so drunk at the ball that had been thrown in his honor that he ran outside, nearly nude, and pissed in the fountain that sat in the middle of the drive, just as a carriage was pulling up,” Isobel said.

“It’s even worse when your mother tells it,” Rhysand muttered. “And don’t say piss, mama, it doesn’t sound right coming from you.” 

Isobel laughed as Mor shook her head, “But that’s not the worst part.” Rhysand groaned as Mor continued the tale, “It was whose carriage that was approaching. There was a girl he fancied, and it was her and her parents. Once they stepped out, and obviously were in horror at Rhys’s current state, he told them that he’d had a dream the night before in which he’d made love to their daughter beneath the starlight.”

Feyre howled.

Rhysand sighed. “It’s safe to say that match never happened.” 

“Rhysie never did have a filter when he was drunk,” Mor grinned. “Still doesn’t.”

“Well, this has been lovely, but I think it’s time to take our leave,” Rhysand announced.

The three women protested, but Feyre stood, nonetheless.

“We must do this again, soon,” she said.

Isobel and Mor agreed as Rhysand kissed his mother on the cheek, then pulled Mor’s hair. She took her boot and shoved him in the shin.

Rhysand laughed, and held out his hand to Feyre. “Shall we?”

Feyre nodded, accepting his offer. His skin was warm, his hands rough, as if he knew the value of working with his hands. Very un-Lord like, indeed.

“Love you, mama,” he said, as they walked toward the door. “You’re a pain in the ass, Mor.”

“Love you, darling,” Isobel smiled, just as Mor said, “Prick.”

The two left, Rhysand smiling as he shut the door behind them. Neither of them spoke until they were back outside, taking Morrigan, the horse, from the stableboy. 

“I like your mother,” Feyre said.

Rhysand smiled, gently, as he met her eyes. “She likes you, too.”

Feyre hesitated in asking the next question, but she did, anyway. “She’s sick, isn’t she?”

Rhysand nodded, walking Morrigan away from the stable, Feyre close to his side. “Yes, she has been for a while. Took a turn for the worst recently.”

“That’s why you came back?” Feyre asked, recalling how he had told Nesta at supper that he had returned for family matters.

Rhysand nodded. “She actually looked quite well this morning. Better than she has lately. It’s why I showed up so early to get you. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted you to meet her while she was happy and sitting up and able to talk. Before-” his words cut off and he cleared his throat. “Well, before opportunities run out.” 

Feyre had lost her mother. She knew the pain that went along with it, and it was clear just how close he was to his own mother. 

“Thank you,” Feyre said, as they stopped near the road. “For bringing me to meet her.”

Rhysand’s smile returned, and he held out his hand to help her up onto the saddle. This time, Feyre accepted his help. He lifted her up, then himself. His arms wrapped around her and she did not shy away from his touch.

As they began their trek back toward the manor, Feyre said, “I like Mor.”

Rhysand scoffed. “You would.”

Feyre looked up at him. Their faces were close. She could easily press her lips to the side of his neck. The thought had her remembering the night before.

Instead, she asked, “You peed in a fountain? Seriously?”

Rhysand’s head fell back as he laughed, bright and loud. “Don’t act like you’ve never stripped down to your undergarments and relieved yourself on a masterpiece, Feyre, darling.” 

~~~~~

Elain had woken with clarity.

She felt like she was making the right choice, felt like everything would be okay.

Eventually.

But the right choice and the hard choice were usually one in the same, and even though Elain knew she loved Azriel and wanted to be with him and only him, leaving this life behind would not be easy. 

She had written a letter to her father, explaining it all, and folded it up neatly, placing it on his desk in his study. 

She had written one to Lucien, telling him how much she adored him, but that there was a different path she had chosen, hoping he would understand.

And she would write to her sisters, of course, before she left, which would be soon.

Azriel said he would make the preparations, as long as she’s certain.

But she was certain. It was what she wanted.

It was all she wanted.

By the end of the week, she would leave this place with the love of her life and start anew. 

Society be damned. 

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red @littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty  @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books​ @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth​ @queenofillea1​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @levivlio​ @hellolenas​ @burritowithfeels​ @that-other-pineapple​ @girl-who-reads-the-books​ @raghad-50725 @musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld​ @negativenesta  @welcometothespeaknowworldtour​ @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit @sannelovesreading​ @nerdperson524 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nerdperson524​ @mariamuses​ @gorl-power 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 44 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter:  Sutan gave Violet a token of his affection.

This Chapter: Violet works her ass off, Pearl feels restless, Courtney takes action, and Bianca has a surprising encounter.

***

Trixie smiled to himself as he walked around the floor, watching his designers all work on their various bits. They were still only getting into gear, the prêt-à-porter part of the collection now in the hands of tailoring and Bendela. Jovan and Blu were the designers who oversaw that process, the rest of them now focused completely on the runway show.

Trixie had sent out an email to everyone that Monday, outlining the timeline for the couture concepts. Couture was a lot more difficult to plan, since those outfits were typically made in the design department by the same designer from start to finish. It wasn’t haute couture, which meant they still used machines, but it took time to make the elaborate gowns and high detailed pieces Trixie knew Raja and Fame expected them to deliver.

“Hey boss.” Trixie turned to look at Gia, the woman smiling at him. “Can you take a look at these?”

“Of course,” Trixie walked over to Gia’s station, the concepts for their custom-made jewelry all laid out on her desk. They had started to get the first samples from the jewelers they used, Fame insisting that Galactica didn’t use anyone else's designs unless they absolutely had to.

“I like this,” Trixie took the small dangling earrings Gia had handed him. “But I think this,” Trixie pointed at a necklace, “needs to be redone. The chain looks too flimsy.”

Gia nodded, noting it down. Trixie knew Bob was taking care of the shoes, their first samples of the heels Fame wanted arriving in the upcoming weeks.

“Good job,” Trixie smiled, squeezing Gia’s shoulder before he walked away and over towards Violet’s table.

He liked having Violet on his team, the woman clearly more than ready to do the work, but they were still finding each other. Trixie was actually a little sad that Violet’s wasn’t confiding in him yet, that it seemed like she believed that they weren’t on the same team and that he wasn’t there to help her, which Trixie believed to be the most crucial part of his job.

If his designers failed, he failed, and with them the company.

Violet had built what seemed like a little fort of fabric rolls, the sewing table that was attached to her desk piled high with shades of ivory and cream, boxes of golden beads stacked on top of each other.

Violet was leaning over her desk, gigantic headphones over her ears, a miniature embroidery frame placed on it. Trixie watched for a minute, Violet’s clever fingers sewing rectangle beads in long lines on what seemed to be the base structure of a bodice.

She didn’t acknowledge him, whatever music she was listening to drowning him out, and Trixie wasn’t going to interrupt her flow, excitement curling in his belly at whatever Violet was going to pull out.

***

Violet finished the row she was working on, her fingertips raw and red from the intricate work she was doing.

She realized that her back was aching, and as she stood up to stretch it out, her shoulder radiating a moment of pain, her eyes fell on the gigantic clock above the design floor door, time a little past 6.

Huh.

She hadn’t noticed that it had gotten so late, since none of her coworkers had left. Violet looked around, her headphones still over her ears. Normally, the floor would be deserted by now, but instead, she saw Max surrounded by parchment paper and rulers. Alexis was draping a gorgeous golden fabric, Kiara was elbow deep in a structured top, and when she looked over at Jovan, he was bent over a bucket of what had to be dye, the chemical scent reaching her nose now that she was paying attention.

Violet raised her hands above her head, her shoulder aching terribly as she popped her joints. She wasn’t anywhere near done, and didn’t have any reason to go home, but she still needed a break, so she grabbed the glass she had sitting on her desk, making her way towards the breakroom.

Violet kept her headphones on, not really in the mood to talk to anyone, but when she turned the corner, she saw Blu standing by the microwave, the ginger haired woman holding what looked like a cup of ramen, shoveling it into her mouth.

“... Blu?” Violet pulled her headphones off, resting them around her neck.

“Oh!” Blu turned around, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she swallowed. “Hi.”

“What are you doing?”

“Eating this?” Blu titled her cup of noodles. “I know it isn’t the most glamorous meal-”

“No, I mean-” Violet didn’t know how to phrase it without sounding like a bitch. “You’re usually the first one to leave.”

“Ha!” Blu laughed, putting her food down and leaning against the break room counter. “I am, aren’t I?” Blu smiled. “When we’re not on crunch, we all rush out of here like rats trying to have a semblance of a normal life.”

“Ah…” Violet nodded her head. “That makes sense.”

Violet had thought her new coworkers were just a little lazy, that they didn’t want to work, but it seemed like they were simply sprinters, while she had always seen herself as more of a marathon runner.

“I’ll go back to happy hour as soon as I get the chance, but for now, I’m eating ramen for dinner. Like a champion.” She flashed a bright smile, drinking the rest of the broth and chucking the container into the trash can across the room, lifting up her hands in a victory motion. “Back to the grindstone!”

***

Pearl rested her chin in her hands, watching Adore dig into a pile of Buffalo wings in the hipster gastropub where they’d chosen to have dinner. The first time she watched Adore eat with all the grace and dignity of a 12 year old boy, she’d found it cute. Charming, even. But now, suddenly, it just seemed gross.

She pushed her own plate away, her food barely touched, sighing slightly as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger.

“You okay, baby?” Adore asked, wiping at her face with the back of her hand, which only spread the hot sauce around.

“Uh...yeah. I’m alright.” Pearl smiled, knowing that Katya would tear her a new one if she let her bad mood explode all over Adore. “Just not very hungry.”

“Aww, I’m sorry.” Adore reached out, plucking a steak fry from Pearl’s plate. “Wanna wrap this shit up and take it to go?”

“Nah, that’s okay. You enjoy,” said Pearl.

“Everything okay here?”

A delicate hand slid a stack of napkins onto the table. Pearl looked up to meet the eyes of their waitress, a petite girl with dark eyes, honey-blonde hair gathered in a ponytail, one strap of her tank top sliding tantalizingly down her tanned shoulder. The nametag resting above her perky tits read “Abby.”

“Thanks,” Pearl said, gesturing to the much-needed napkins, and Abby winked at her.

“Is there anything you need?” Abby asked, eyes raking over Pearl’s body in a way that made her shiver. “Another round, maybe?”

“Yeah...I could go for another round,” Pearl said slowly. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, making sure to show off the low cut top she had worn under her leather jacket, her wrist flexing.

“Coming right up…”

Pearl watched as she sauntered away, wondering how much of the swinging hips were for her benefit, when Abby tossed a glance back over her shoulder, giving Pearl a tiny, secret grin before turning to the bartender.

Adore cleared her throat, and Pearl snapped back to attention.

Right.

Date. Adore. Best behavior.

Got it.

“You know, I’m really psyched that you’re coming to Thanksgiving. I think it’ll be good for Bianca to get to know you better. So she can see what a great person you are for herself,” Adore flashed a hopeful smile that suddenly made Pearl feel sick with guilt.

Why couldn’t she just commit to this awesome girl and stop being such an asshole?

“Yeah, no, that’ll be cool.”

“Totally,” Adore smiled.

Pearl polished off the last of her beer, watching as Adore dipped one of her wings into the blue cheese dressing, nose wrinkling just slightly as the chunky white sauce dripped off the hot wing on the way to her mouth.

“Um, I need to go use the restroom,” Pearl said, sliding off her stool.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adore asked, concerned.

“Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

Pearl steeled her nerves before heading to the bathrooms, just as Abby approached their table with a glass of beer on a tray.

“And where are you running off to?” she asked coyly, fluttering her lashes.

“Bathroom… Is that okay with you?”

Abby giggled. “I’ll try not to miss you too much.”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head as she continued on her way.

***

“Hey Pearl?” Adore asked, pulling her bomber jacket tighter around herself, the November chill an unhappy reminder that winter was around the corner. They were walking home from dinner, and Adore couldn’t stop thinking about that waitress.

It wasn’t like Pearl had done anything wrong--just a bit of light, harmless flirting. Two weeks ago, she’d probably barely even have noticed. But ever since that conversation they’d had about being open, Adore found herself on high alert, mind racing every time her girlfriend so much as glanced at someone else. Which was a lot.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

“You mean like tonight?” Pearl joked, and Adore forced out a strained laugh.

“I’m serious.”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Then why-” Adore paused, unsure of how this conversation should go. “Why not just…try being monogamous?” Adore felt horribly exposed, and even a little scared, but she wanted this to work, wanted them to work. “I mean I know I don’t want anyone else, so…”

“I like the idea of being able to be spontaneous. Without it being like, a big thing,” Pearl explained, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, I think you’re great. But sometimes…It’s like no matter how great pizza is, sometimes you want a burger. You know?”

“Please.” Adore scoffed, adding an eye roll for good measure.

“Adore-”

“You mean burgers like the waitress tonight? Is she the thing you’re suddenly hungry for?” Adore demanded.

“Will you please chill?” Pearl looked genuinely uncomfortable, the expression one Adore had never seen on her girlfriend’s face before. “There are people around.”

“It’s New York, nobody gives a FUCK!” Adore yelled the last word for good measure, no one turning around, which proved her point. “Answer the question!”

“You’re acting like a child,” Pearl said calmly, and if Adore wasn’t mad before (she was), now she was absolutely fucking furious.

“I am asking a very simple question! Was our waitress tonight the type of girl you like to fuck? Or, I’m sorry, was she the burger you’re craving?”

“Yes! Yes, she was. Does that make you happy?” Pearl asked, stopping and turning to Adore, one hand on her hip.

“Yeah, I’m thrilled. Can’t you tell?” Adore sniffled, trying to hold back the tears pricking her eyes.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re acting like this,” Pearl said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

“Fine! Then maybe I’ll just go home by myself tonight!”

“Fine.”

“Fuck you, Pearl!” Adore turned and stomped down the street, back in the direction of the subway, hands stuffed into her pockets, finally letting the tears stream down her cheeks.

***

“Lovely eyes,”

Violet looked up, the expression on Sutan’s face telling her that this wasn’t the first time he had said her name. She was sitting in bed, back resting against the headboard, doing her very best to distract herself from the wrapped ice cubes she was holding in her right hand.

Not that her phone or the puzzle game Katya had suggested she tried ages ago actually helped.

Her fingers stung, but not as badly as her feet had in the ice baths she used to endure as a professional ballet dancer, those sometimes so painful she had cried and had to be held, Milk whispering into her hair that everything would be okay.

“Yes?”

She had stayed at work until past 8, actually expecting to go home and crash, dinner completely forgotten, when she had fished her phone out of her bag, a text from Sutan asking if she wanted to come over.

Violet had been exhausted, getting everything ready for her presentation in the morning leaving her completely drained, but she liked spending time with Sutan, and even if she was never going to spend the money herself, she loved the thread count of his sheets, his bed a guarantee of a good night’s sleep.

The fact that Sutan chest had quickly become her favorite place to dose off not something she’d be willing to admit unless she was being tortured.

“Do you need more ice?” Sutan smiled, looking out at her. He was hanging up his shirts, the dry cleaners bag on the door to his walk in closet. Violet knew Sutan had a housekeeper, but he apparently preferred to handle his closet himself, which Violet guessed she understood. “I still can’t believe you’d-”

“I’m fine.” Violet cut him off, moving off the bed so she could stand up. It was sweet that Sutan worried, actually, really sweet, but Violet knew her body, and most importantly, she knew her body's boundaries, and this, this wasn’t anywhere close. “I am.”

Violet had slaved away all day, Fame and Raja making their judgement calls on who got accepted for the couture line and who didn’t tomorrow, and if Violet’s fingers had to bleed for her gown to be accepted, that was a price she was more than willing to pay.

She walked over to Sutan, stepping into his space, the block of ice still in her hand as she got on her toes, pressing a kiss against his lips.

“I promise.”

***

Pearl closed the door to her room with her foot, her body warm and relaxed, her hands drying her hair with her towel.

She had taken a shower as soon as she had gotten home, the annoyance at how Adore acted crawling under her skin. Pearl threw herself down on her bed, picking her phone up from where she had left it earlier that evening.

“Huh…” Pearl bit her lip. She had expected to see several calls from Adore, or at least a text, but there was nothing, her phone devoid of any notifications from the other woman.

Pearl rolled over, lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling, her stomach uncomfortable with the sensation that she had probably hurt Adore, the expression on her face when they had broken apart painful to look at.

Pearl sighed, tapping her fingers against her stomach. It was a new sensation for her to be unsure, but if there was one thing she knew, it was that Pearl Liaison never texted first.

***

“And you better make it quick!”

Fame watched as Courtney left her office, the blonde closing the door behind her, leaving her and Raja alone. It had taken the majority of the afternoon, but they had finally finished the selection of the looks that entered the final running towards the opening and closing spots.

Fame loved the couture presentations, the designers really showcasing their enthusiasm and personalities since they only had half finished products to present. She liked being able to touch, to see the delicate dreams and the decadence that was a signature of couture.

“Tea?”

Fame already knew that Raja would say yes, the pot on her desk one Ivy had brought over when the redhead had found out that they would be staying at Fame’s.

“Hold the sugar please.”

Fame smiled, grabbing two of the jade green teacups Ivy had brought along too, quickly pouring them both a cup. It wasn’t often that she took the time to just relax at work, that she took time to simply sit with Raja.

“Mmh,” Raja inhaled, the orange blossoms creating the most delicious fragrance.

“Mmh indeed,” Fame chuckled, taking her first sip of the hot tea, allowing herself to sit back on the ivory couch.

“So, we sent the list off.” Raja looked at her. “How are you feeling about the direction right now? You’re not going to decide that you hate cream and ivory on February 2nd, are you?”

“Uh! How dare you,” Fame huffed, actually feeling a little offended. “That was one time.”

“One time too many.”

If anyone but Raja had said it, Fame would have punished them severely, but as it stood, Raja was one of the few people in her life who could get away with openly criticizing her.

“I’m an old woman, Famie.” Raja smirked. “My heart can’t take the pressure.”

“Please,” Fame rolled her eyes. “Don’t take that attitude with me.”

“Someone has to keep you in check, darling.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check.” Fame had to keep from rolling her eyes again, Raja toeing the line of what was acceptable. “If anything, I need support right now.”

“Hmm?” Raja raised an eyebrow, her cup at her lips.

“We’re celebrating Thanksgiving with Patrick’s family, and his mother always wreaks havoc on my skin,” Fame groaned. Patrick’s family was coming to New York, his two sisters and brother all showing up with brats and partners in tow. “I swear, every year it’s the same. If we wanted to have kids, we would have had them by now.”

***

It just wasn’t fair, Aiden thought, staring at his rejected prototypes. He had killed himself all week to come up with 4 different couture concepts for the opening and closing looks, and all of them had been shot down.

This morning, they’d presented their designs to Fame and Raja, each of the designers getting less than a minute to pitch based on sketches, samples, and preliminary construction and then the upstairs bosses had spent all afternoon discussing them, an email sent to the whole design team announcing the finalists a little before 5 pm.

Which was why Aiden was the only one still there at 7, the disappointment of not being included taking over an hour to really settle in. To transform into anger at the utter unfairness of it all. He rose from his desk, wandering over to Alexis’ desk, where 3 dress forms were standing, all of them in looks that made it through. He supposed, though, that was pretty standard, Alexis being one of the most experienced designers there who’d been at Galactica almost as long as Trixie, her specialty being draping the kind of elegant gowns that Fame went gaga over.

No, he wasn’t mad about Alexis.

But Violet...how could that girl catch every single break since the second she walked through the doors? He glared at her muslin prototype, the skirt flaring out, the muslin bodies structured and stuck to the mannequin. On Violet’s table, she had left behind the actual bodice, golden beads sparkling, a portion of the skirt laid out with the intricate pattern. It felt tired and overworked, something he refused to identify burning in his stomach.

Anyone could do beads, anyone could do what Violet did, but unfortunately, he wasn’t in charge, so she continued to get away with it.

Aiden let out a huge sigh, trudging back over to his desk to pack his things.

Another shit week down the drain.

***

After Miss Fame’s comments about her hair, Courtney needed to do something drastic. She knew that Fame’s own salon was a fancy place in SoHo called Jujubee’s, so she’d called to get an appointment. At first, the receptionist told her that there was a 2 month waiting list, but when Courtney name-dropped Miss Fame, sort of accidentally implying that her bossreally wanted to get her in as soon as possible, she’d put her on hold for less than a minute and then informed her that she had an appointment on Saturday with the owner of the salon herself.

Courtney was pretty proud of herself, if a bit intimidated, entering the salon. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from the owner, but it certainly wasn’t the adorable, friendly woman with a cute little baby bump.

“Hi, you must be Courtney. I’m Juju. What are we doing today?” she said, shaking Courtney’s hand warmly and turning her chair to face the mirror.

“Oh, um...I work for Miss Fame at Galactica, and-”

“Yikes, sorry to hear that,” Jujubee quipped, and Courtney’s eyes widened. “That’s a joke, honey. She’s one of my best friends.”

“Oh. Right.” Courtney laughed nervously. “So, she um...she found out that I was doing my own color and uh-”

“Oy. Okay well…” Juju inspected Courtney’s hair closely. “It doesn’t look too damaged. I think we should fix up your roots, and maybe take down some of the brassy tones in your color, give you a cooler, brighter blonde? That’ll really suit your complexion. And this cut...I’d like to take off a couple of inches, just to make sure we get all of the split ends, maybe some layers in the front...and how do you feel about bangs?”

“I...like bangs.”

“I think they’ll really frame your face nicely.” Juju grinned, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Just relax, we’re gonna take good care of you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much!”

Pretty soon, Courtney’s nerves disappeared entirely, and she was chatting with Jujubee like they were old friends. She found herself wondering what this down-to-earth, funny, warm person had in common with Fame, and then felt a little bad.

There was obviously a whole side to Fame that Courtney didn’t get to see--she already knew that from Adore. And besides, Bianca was warm and hilarious, and she was also close friends with Miss Fame.

A few hours later, Courtney looked and felt like a brand new person, bouncing from the seat excitedly. That is, until it was time to pay. She’d looked up the prices beforehand, of course. But the cost of an “owner cut” wasn’t listed on the website. She figured it would be a little more than their listed prices, so when the receptionist handed her the bill, she nearly shat out a brick.

Eight hundred and fifty dollars.

Courtney was already planning to split the bill on two cards, but this was insane. Her heart began to pound. What was she supposed to do? It’s not like she could say “oh, forget it”--she already had the whole damn service. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and asked the receptionist in a quiet voice, “Um...can I spread it out on 3 different credit cards?”

The girl rolled her eyes disdainfully, holding out her hand to accept the cards.

“You know,” she said, swiping Courtney’s cards through the reader. “There’s a Supercuts three blocks down. Maybe you should try them next time.”

Less than a minute ago, Courtney had felt like a million bucks, and now she felt like gum being scraped off the bottom of a shoe.

“Are you gonna add a tip?”

A tip? On top of that price? Oh well...she was gonna be paying off this trip to the salon for months anyway, might as well go all in. She took a deep breath, holding her head high.

“Yeah, add another $150 to that purple card,” she said, trying her best to keep her face impassive, put on a haughty air so that the receptionist wouldn’t see how much she was shaking inside. “And thanks for the advice.”

***

Bianca entered the book shop, large sunglasses obscuring most of her face, hair under a silk scarf, trying to be as incognito as possible. She beelined straight for her favorite section, avoiding the few other customers.

Most of the time, Bianca didn’t mind the fame or attention from the paparazzi. After all, it was a sign of her success, and she had nothing to hide--she never left the house with a hair out of place, and she could hold her liquor like a champ. Some days, though, like this one?

All she wanted was to enjoy a lazy Saturday. Pick up some books, treat herself to a nice, simple lunch at the café next door, just be a human instead of a minor celebrity.

She was paging through a Natalie Woods biography when someone interrupted, asking softly, “Bianca?”

Shit. Spotted. She turned around with a sigh, but when she saw the person who’d spoken, her aggravation was instantly replaced with a smile, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“Courtney! Hi!”

She looked like absolute perfection, in a fresh blow-out, hair falling in sexy, beachy waves over her shoulders. Her soft, fuzzy green sweater brought out her beautiful eyes. Bianca found herself amazed at how she managed to look better and better every time they saw each other.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I know you were probably-”

“No, I’m glad you did.” Bianca offered another smile. “So um, what brings you here? Do you live in this neighborhood?”

“No, I live in the Bronx. But was just over at Jujubee’s getting my hair done-”

“Ahh...well she did a stellar job. She’s a true artist.”

“You think?” Courtney fingered a lock of blonde hair.

“I’d give her more credit, but...she had a pretty good canvas to work on, so…”

Courtney smiled, biting her lip, then asked, “Do you think Miss Fame will approve?”

“Definitely not.”

Courtney’s face fell, for just a moment, brow creasing with worry, until Bianca reached out to touch her arm.

“Fame likes to be the hottest blonde in the room,” Bianca clarified, adding, “So yeah. She’ll hate it.”

They exchanged a small, conspiratorial smile before a pink tinge began to creep into Courtney’s cheeks and she looked away.

“What’ve you got there?” Bianca asked, gesturing to a stack of paperbacks in Courtney’s hands.

“Oh, I’m just...I’m just browsing, really. Killing time for a few hours before I have to go to a class in midtown. But who wants to hang out in midtown?”

Bianca laughed. “And? What kind of books do you like to browse?”

“Um…” Courtney looked a little embarrassed before admitting, “I’m trying to make my way through Oprah’s book club.”

“A worthy intellectual goal,” Bianca chuckled.

“Yeah, well. I’m on a spending embargo after the salon, so I’m probably just gonna get them from the library instead.”

Bianca held out her basket. “Throw ‘em in.”

“No, no, really, that wasn’t, I mean you don’t have to-”

“Throw them in,” Bianca repeated. “You’ve been putting up with my sister’s shenanigans for years, you deserve a couple of paperbacks. I insist.”

“Thanks.” Courtney carefully placed the books into Bianca’s basket.

“You’re welcome,” Bianca winked, strolling towards the register and placing her basket on the counter.

“You know, Adore puts up with my shenanigans too,” Courtney said. “It’s a very symbiotic relationship.”

Bianca smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet it was that she felt the need to defend Adore from the mildest shade. She handed her card to the clerk and turned back to Courtney.

“I’m sure it is. So uh, listen...I was about to head next door for lunch-”

“Oh, sorry to have kept you-”

“No, um…” Bianca chuckled, feeling awkward as fuck. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s, um, a cute place. You know, if you’re into the whole healthy, organic, locally-sourced seasonal thing...which I take it you are.”

She gestured to the reusable canvas bag in Courtney’s hands, which she’d pulled from her purse to use rather than the bookstore’s plastic bags.

Realization began to dawn in Courtney’s eyes, a smile tugging at her lips as she said, “Guilty.”

“So, um, since you’re trying to kill time...maybe you want to join me?” Bianca signed the receipt and handed over the books, placing her own into her large shoulder bag, knowing that she’d probably not have refused the plastic bag if she were here on her own. Well, whatever--it was still a win for Mother Nature, right?

“Yeah!” Courtney exclaimed, then seemed to catch herself, adding, “I mean, if that’s what you want...”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“A straight shooter, eh?”

“So to speak,” Bianca smirked, and Courtney giggled.

“What a true role model,” she professed with a flutter of lashes.

“Always,” Bianca laughed, guiding her next door with a hand on her lower back.

***

[seunqs]

[ a long get to know me tag ]

tagged by: losers @woosohn @yeonjuins

what day is your birthday?

27th june! it’ll be on a monday next year

what’s your favourite colour?

blue! a rather specific shade of light sky blue but i also like dark blue! might be misleading because everyone would think beige/black since that’s the aesthetic i like + almost everything i own is black...

what’s your lucky number?

i don’t have one i think but i tend to say 7 if i’m asked?

do you have any pets?

sadly no >:( will get one in the future idc idc

how tall are you?

158cm tiny i wna be abit taller

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

off my head i think 3 pairs...? just 2 black and 1 white that i rotate depending on the outfit i’m wearing

favorite song?

asdjekw i don’t think i have one specific one but recently i’ve been listening to maniac by nct doyoung & haechan!

other honourable mentions: a book of love by ha hyunsang, wide eyed blind by saint raymond, irreplaceable by nct dream, lmly by jackson wang. that’s all i have off my head

favorite movie?

surprisingly i’m not big on movies... but i’ll always answer parent trap when someone asks! why do i sound like i always have prepared answers in my head for various questions... okay that’s bc i do.

what would be your ideal partner?

@june look away i already know you’re gna say this sounds a lot like someone..

shy... is the main characteristics lmao idky it’s not even like i’m outgoing but i tend to find myself liking shy-er boys over the outgoing ones! aaa those with very obvious leadership qualities and quietly cares and looks out for those around them :’) tsundere! i think shy may appear cold sometimes but i’m rly :’) when the shy ones become very affectionate in private or when you get to know them better :’) or shy with strangers but very goofy and silly with their closer social circle heh those that are more cat-like than dog-like, only approaches you when they’re comfy. okay also shy but willing to speak up when necessary! doesn’t let themselves get bullied for being quiet and also pls speak up for me i hate ordering food pls do it for me HAHAHHA also if they’re passionate about something they like/are good at! good listeners too heh doesn’t need to always have the best advice, just if they would sit with me silently and listen to me and give me a hug afterwards :’’’’’) i think i’m on the touchier side too so if they don’t dislike that it’ll be nice! OH someone who’s good at cooking too bc i hate cooking and the kitchen in general.. i’ll do the dishes though HAHAHAH ok that is all there is a certain idol in my head that is the embodiment of my ideal type and i hate him >:(

do you want children?

no... not so much bc i don’t find them cute or i can’t handle them but i think it’s a commitment that scares me! bringing up the child well with the right character and values ajksdbwkje i don’t know if i’m up to that HAHAHAH

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

nope @woosohn @yeonjuins pls be proud of my direct no why are the two of you......... 

bath or shower?

shower! i don’t know if i’ve actually taken a bath before... probably when i was younger HAHAH i think i’ll get bored in the bath and i much rather be relaxing in bed than in the tub

what color socks are you wearing?

barefoot at the moment! the socks i own are mostly solid colour socks / simple cartoon or animal patterns but all ankle socks that can’t be seen with my shoes

favorite type of music?

i listen to pop, r&b and indie! that’s about all and favourite depends on the mood!

how many pillows do you sleep with?

just 1! and a bolster too

what position do you sleep in?

either on my back with hand over my head lmao or turned to either sides while hugging my bolster and face buried into the bolster

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping?

when it’s too hot! canNOT sleep if the weather is too hot. also if i get woken up rudely, by screaming or someone smacking me awake LMAO just tell me nicely to get up and i’ll be out of bed in 10mins pls give me awhile my brain is turning on HAHAHA

what do you have for breakfast?

recently i haven’t woken up early enough for bfast or my family is just about to go out to buy lunch by the time i’m up hahaha but on the days that i’m alive for bfast, iced coffee and any pastry sitting in the fridge! my family is big on pastries like croissants and cakes like banana and carrot cakes! so one of those but the iced coffee is a constant in my first meal of the day

have you ever tried archery?

nope and idt i’ll be good at it tbh....

favorite fruit?

strawberries, apples, peaches! there are some seasonal favs where i rly like them for a period of time and then suddenly not anymore but these 3 are the constants

favorite swear word?

hahahaha i dont think i have a favourite one..... but i say tf a lot and mf for kpop boys who make me more flustered than they should

do you have any scars?

i don’t think so! i have a few stretch marks around my waist and tummy tho 

are you a good liar?

yes... HAHAH i used to get scolded so much for lying as a kid lmfao

what’s your personality type?

isfj-t has probably only dipped to isfp-t once but if not constant isfj!

what’s your favorite type of girl?

HAHAHAH uh.... okay with all kinds i think? except people in general who try too hard

innie or outie?

innie. was this question necessary tho AHHAHAHA

left or right-handed?

right-handed

favorite food?

ramen! but i like lots of food lmfao tiramisu, pork belly, lots of noodles, also lots of rice, beef, cakes, ice cream, i think i’m more salty > sweet!

favorite foreign food?

japanese ramen, korean cuisine!, lasagne

are you clean or messy?

clean

most used phrase?

i think alot of keyboard smashes, lmao, wtf, HAHAHAHHAHA, sigh, i’m tired LOL

how long does it take for you to get ready?

depends! fastest i think i can get out of the house 20mins after i’ve woken up. longest probably an hour where outfit is taking a while and accessories needs to be chosen

do you talk to yourself?

in my head yes.

do you sing to yourself?

not often but i sing out loud for the family to hear LOL in my head very often a song is playing up there

are you a good singer?

nop. i don’t think i’m a BAD singer but wouldn’t classify as good either HAHHAHA

biggest fear?

wow so many things but i think biggest is complete darkness, i need to see and know what is going on around me. i sleep with a night light on heh 

are you a gossip?

with closer friends yes def HAHAH my school culture tends to have lots of tea that my friends and i don’t like to get too involved in but we do talk about the gossips that goes around hahaha have also been in the center of gossip way too often

do you like long or short hair?

long! can’t imagine myself with short hair.. used to have reallllyyy long hair that goes beyond my waist and cried when i cut it to slightly below shoulder length. that’s the shortest i’ll ever go

favourite school subject?

wow nothing i don’t like school lmfao but humanities and language are way more bearable than math and sciences

extrovert or introvert?

introverted

what makes you nervous?

unpredictable situations, being alone in public (contradictory because in private i would strongly prefer to be alone but i don’t enjoy being alone in public i feel judged HAHAHA), also currently waiting on a reply for something and that’s been keeping me anxious the past 2 days :’)

who was your first real crush?

when i was 13/14, tablemate in school that was kinda shy and had very limited social circle but talked to me endlessly in class lmfao he apparently liked me too but we never dated and went to different schools at 16 y/o. we’re still kinda in touch though! we talked quite a fair bit last month just catching up but he’s more of an acquaintance now

how many piercings do you have?

2! just one normal lobe piercing on either ears, don’t think i’ll get anymore

how fast can you run?

back in school i used to be one of the fastest girls in my class LMFAO i could clock 12.5 minutes for a 2.4km run. stamina came from dancing since i had to run laps before dance class 2 times a week. but that is long in the past and now i get tired from climbing more than 4 flights of stairs pls spare me

what color is your hair?

naturally black but dyed brown! my hair has grown quite abit since i dyed it though now its black at the top and brown from above my ears onwards

what color are your eyes?

a very dark brown lmfao almost black

what makes you angry?

irresponsible people. just pushing responsibility to others or avoiding their responsibilities. don’t need you to do a good job with your responsibilities, just don’t make your issues my issues. and if its a shared responsibility like group projects, then do your part to contribute and don’t expect others to cover you

selfish people, in many ways. just being self-centred, not caring about how others feel, doing things for personal gain at the expense of others

speaking in a passive-aggressive/sarcastic manner. i say this even though i’m afraid of confrontation but i much rather someone outright tells me they’re unhappy about something or wants to get a point across. i hate when they talk about it sarcastically or tries to sugar-coat their words to make themselves look less aggressive about their words. tell me straight as it is, if you’re already gonna talk about something bad don’t piss me off with your attitude at the same time

do you like your own name?

rae is nice! has a very nice ring to it and looks pretty!

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?

i don’t.. want one.. but both have their good and bad i can’t decide.. i want a puppy

what are your strengths?

is this an interview question i have had a few interviews over the past weeks i am well-prepared for this HAHAHA

i think i’m pretty resilient! i bounce back from bad times pretty quickly or i psycho myself to see the situation positively. but it is ofc coupled with a lot of complaining to the people around me first

although i hate unpredictable situations and having to quickly adapt to new settings, i think i adapt pretty quickly too. flexible? easy-going? idk what’s the right way to call it but yeah something along those lines. good at it but i still enjoy my stability and calm don’t want to have to quickly adapt to new situations.

what are your weaknesses?

very emotional HAHAH used to be much worse but i often let my emotions rule my head. i think i’ve improved A LOT though i used to be so bad but i think i’m now able to make rational decisions even if im bawling LMFAO

this sounds like a compliment but i’ve been told this too often as well. i tend to be way too nice to people who don’t deserve it. even if the person doesn’t deserve it or they’ve pushed all my buttons in the wrong way possible, i would still try to be as nice and polite as i can. really helps with me working in the f&b industry lmfao.

what’s the colour of your bedspread?

dark blue / grey! 

colour(s) of your room?

white & wood (throughout my house actually + green from the plants in the living room) @yeonjuins says i live in a muji showroom

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil (Part 38) - Story 2

“How was your trip, Zuko?” Mai asks. Her voice is grating to Azula’s ears. She wishes that the woman would have followed her into the jungle. Perhaps if they  had been bickering incessantly enough the spirits would have taken her voice too and then she wouldn’t have to deal with hearing it.

“It was fine.” Zuko replies stiffly and at least a few prickles of joy come back to her. At least Mai has also lost someone.

Even still, Azula finds herself unhappy; TyLee can’t love the type of person who relishes in someone else’s emotional turmoil. TyLee can’t love someone like her and if she is being honest, the woman probably shouldn’t even try.

“You still can’t talk?” Mai observes.

Azula shakes her head in confirmation. She wonders what had given her the first hint--likely it is that she hasn’t begun yelling and complaining, spewing hatred and resentment. In all honesty, she wouldn’t have the energy for it even if she did have her voice. Most of her energy is spent on dread.

She thinks that Mai might have grimaced, a faintly sympathetic gesture. She unfolds her parchment and writes, ‘after I speak with TyLee I was going to seek out the spirit who has my voice.’  She doesn’t foresee any success. She is still the same vindictive and spiteful woman that the spirit first encountered.  She isn’t sure why she feels like this. Sometimes she thinks that she isn’t so terrible and sometimes…

“TyLee isn’t pleased with any of us.” Mai grumbles.

“What did I do?” Zuko asks.

Mai shrugs, “guilty by association.” She sighs. “You better have some pretty good dialogue--a pretty good letter prepared because she’s showing teeth.”

And maybe that is what she needs; to let TyLee gnash those teeth at her. Maybe she has to bleed…

“Azula’s a good person.” Seicho declares. “I’m sure she’ll do fine.”

But Azula doesn’t agree, she has been writing letter after letter only to waste parchment.

.oOo.

To say that meeting up with Azula again leaves her feeling apprehensive would be an understatement. TyLee can imagine an assortment of emotional responses from the woman and not a single one of them is good. Approaching the palace for the first time in so long, TyLee isn’t sure if she is going to be met with resentful, albeit, mute yelling--a red, strained faced Azula. Or if she is going to be greeted by more of those haunting sobs without sounds; a face streaked with tears and running makeup. She thinks that the best case would be to be met with Azula’s usual cold and deceitfully passive demeanor. That biting indifference worn on a stoney, uncannily blank face.

TyLee, again finds herself wondering what she had seen in Azula. A beautiful, confident, intelligent, and talented woman, she remembers. And she wonders if that person is still there or if she has completely succumbed to her repressed rage and inner turmoil. She wonders why she is humoring this request for reunion. It is because she is a good person; too compassionate for her own good. She wonders if she should let that part of herself go and completely succumb to her more realistic side, the side that has liberated her.

She thinks that she must relinquish at least some of that chipper empathy if she is going to speak with the princess. The princess who is just in the other room, waiting and probably with a whole packet of parchments detailing her contempt.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Zuko says gently.

She isn’t afraid of Azula anymore, she reminds herself. She can hold her own.  “I’m ready.”

Zuko opens the door and beckons her in. She sees the other girl first; her skin is a shade or two darker than Azula’s and her hair is pulled into both a topknot and a low ponytail. Her posture is lax and untroubled.

All the while, Azula sits rigidly, tense. Her eyes seem somewhat misty and there is the slightest pout upon her lips. And yet there is some glint of determination upon her expression. A spark of something beneath what seems like hurt. And in this expression, this gentle and subtle vulnerability, TyLee finds reassurance. She has to admit that she didn’t anticipate coming to meet anything but intense and raw emotion. Even still, she has to wonder if there is a bomb waiting to explode beneath this mostly composed demeanor.

The princess offers a little wave and gestures for her to take a seat next to her. TyLee takes a seat but it is not the indicated one. She sits across from her, looks her straight in the eyes. In closer proximity she can see a sadness, a rather deep one.

Azula holds up a piece of parchment and TyLee takes a deep breath, her stomach twisting into knots. And when she finally reads it some of the unease dissipates, ‘how have you been?’

“I’ve been…” does Azula want to hear her say that she has been lost without her? Sad? That she has been thinking about her a lot. “I’ve been really well.” Truth be told, she has thought little of Azula after the first month. “I’ve done a lot of soul searching and I finally found a me that I like!”

Azula manages a half smile and nods. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes, in fact they seem even gloomier now. Of course Azula isn’t pleased that she has evolved and become her own person. She doesn’t think that Azula can stand it.

.oOo.

And there it is, she truly is better off without her.  That she is nothing but a hindrance to the woman’s growth and cheerfulness. She has known it for a while now but the confirmation is still piercing.

“I learned to stand up for myself. I have new hobbies and interests. And I met some amazing people…”

Amazing people that probably help her thrive. Amazing people who aren’t horrible like she, Zuzu, and Mai. Amazing people who deserve to have a light like TyLee in their lives.

She wonders if any of them is a new lover.

‘I met this piece of work.’ She scrawls and gestures to Seicho. She supposes that Seicho is a light, really the only thing that keeps everything from going all encompassingly bleak and black. Seicho gives an eager wave.

“I was wondering who she is.”

“Seicho! Azula and I went for a hike together.”

“That sounds fun!” TyLee smiles.

‘It wasn’t.’ Azula writes as Seicho remarks, “it was actually kind of depressing.”

TyLee furrows her brows. “What happened?”

Agni, how she wants to tell her. Wants the woman to know how thoroughly she has been missed. Craves that brand of comfort only that only TyLee could give. But what would that look like? It would look like guilting, like playing with her emotions in some conniving attempt to get her back. ‘It’s a long story, Ty.’

“She was…” Seicho starts.

Azula shakes her head and holds up the parchment. A single word hastily scrawled upon it; ‘no.’ And then she adds, ‘not yet.’

Seicho quite literally bites her tongue and slumps in her chair.

“Azula, what happened?”

‘I’ll tell you about it some other time, okay? I’d like to hear about your adventures.’ She would actually rather hear anything but. She doesn’t want to know about any possible romances. But the story TyLee gives is one about adventure not love. There is plenty of friendship--and from the sound of it--better friendship than she had, had in the Fire Nation. And there is lots of discovery; skills she hadn’t known she had, smarts she didn’t realize she possessed…

And what has Azula discovered on her journey? That she is thoroughly miserable and trapped. That she has made little progress at all. Any optimism she has seems to be gone in an instant. She doesn’t want to die, she reminds herself, she just wants things to stop hurting… But sometimes she feels like there is no other way to stop it.

She wishes that she could get rid of these thoughts. Wishes that she could hold onto those moments for even just a little longer than a moment. Spirits she needs help but she can’t ask TyLee for it. TyLee will get too invested in it… Or maybe this new TyLee has enough boundaries to tell her to solve her own shit. She is trying, she swears to herself that she is. Why else would she be chasing down her voice and talking to TyLee?

She wishes that the girl would just yell at her. Scream at her and get it over with…

‘Tuya seems nice.’

TyLee seems to visibly flinch, confirming her speculations; there is something slightly stronger than a friendship there. “She has been wonderful and so supportive.”

Azula nods and points at Seicho. At this TyLee smiles, “I’m glad that you found someone who can help you through everything.” Perhaps she thinks that she would find unbelievable that she wishes her well because she adds, “really, Azula, I am. You need someone…” But I’m not that person, Azula fills in for her.  She shouldn’t have to be. Seicho shouldn’t have to be.

‘I know.’

She needs someone but sometimes, more often than not, she thinks that she should be alone.

‘I was hoping that you would come with us--myself, Zuzu, Mai, and Seicho--to go find the spirit who took my voice.’

“I don’t know, Azula. I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

.oOo.

TyLee doesn’t think that she has ever seen Azula desist and retreat so fast. Even during a battle with grim odds. She has only ever fled battles she was wholly certain that she would lose. Even then she usually held her ground.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow at noon, if you change your mind.” Seicho adds for her.

“I’ll think about it.”

Azula waits until she thinks that TyLee can’t see her to fall apart. To lean on Seicho and shed those silent tears. Her body is nearly limp and TyLee thinks that she might have been holding back the whole time. She truly is a broken woman. Her willpower is in delicate tatters. TyLee sighs, she supposes a jungle adventure might be fun. It has been a while since she  has explored the Fire Nation.