#I like these small cute fluffy moments of friendship between them <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[somewhereincairparavel]

Its canon that Jason and Leo sneak into Chiron 's rec room in the big house, to play Mario Party six on Nintendo switch. And Leo would also program to game to do stupid stuff so they both can win all the time. I have no idea what you will do with this information, but I'm letting you know anyway.

[elizaleclerc]

Hello, I love your writing, can I request Charles Leclerc x singer!reader where they already knew each other back when they were teenagers but the reader moves to LA to pursue her career so they kinda feel off cuz of the long distance, so years later Charles decides to surprise her at one of her concerts and tries to shoot his shoot after all those years they end up together and it's all fluffy and cute.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense english is not my first language, thank you <3

love this!!! tysm <3

birds of a feather ✿

charles leclerc x reader

summary: fem singer!reader reignites an old teenage love with famous driver charles leclerc

songs: birds of a feather by b.eilish, the 1 by t.swift

author’s note: mostly cute and fluffy but had to add a bit of angst oops! inspo from billie’s new album obv bc that’s all i’m listening to rn. also some google translate involved so oops again if it’s wrong :)

word count: 4k

In the luxurious city of Monaco, you and Charles were cruising along the winding roads late at night, a favored pastime for the two of you. The cool breeze tousled your hair as the windows were rolled down, filling the car with the scent of saltwater and adventure. You stole a glance at Charles in the driver's seat, his face adorned with that familiar boyish grin, his eyes sparkling just as they did on the day you met him.

The car zoomed down the winding road, its expensive engine purring like a contented cat. Despite its luxurious interior, Charles had no qualms about letting you put your feet up on the dash. The scarlet sky painted with streaks of orange and pink was the perfect backdrop for this drive at sunset.

One thing different about this drive at sunset was that one of your own songs was playing on the radio. At only 19 years old, your song “Birds of a Feather” was reaching the top of the charts worldwide. At any chance he got, Charles would blast it at full volume whenever the two of you were together. It only made sense considering the song was about him.

You and Charles had been inseparable since childhood, a bond that felt unbreakable and essential to your very existence. Over the years, you both had your fair share of romantic partners, but it seemed like none of them could compare to the connection you shared. Despite any ups and downs in your own love lives, you and Charles always found your way back to each other, like two ships anchored together in the stormy sea of life.

Of course, there were fleeting moments when you wondered if there could be something more between you and Charles. The thought would cross your mind as his hand brushed yours or when he made you laugh until your sides ached. But those thoughts remained just that - fleeting and unspoken. You both cherished your friendship too much to risk changing its dynamic.

But deep down, underneath layers of familiarity and comfort, there was a quiet longing that neither of you acknowledged. A shared understanding that there was something more between you than just being best friends. And although it was left unsaid, it was an unspoken truth that added a layer of depth to your friendship.

The bass of the song throbbed through the car, drowning out Charles' words as he spoke to you. You strained to hear him over the music, but all you could see were his lips moving in time with the beat. "What?!" you shouted comically with a grin, and he reached for the volume knob to turn it down.

"I said, it's only a matter of time before you're touring worldwide," he repeated with a small smile. You shook your head in amusement. Charles always had grand visions for your music career, dreaming of reaching the stars and achieving the highest goals even when you couldn't imagine them yourself.

“You’re only saying that to be nice,” you playfully bantered with him, knowing deep down he truly believed in your talent.

A wistful smile crossed his face as he replied, “I’m serious. Before you know it, you’ll be in L.A., living your dream and making music for the world.” His words had a bittersweet edge to them, causing your own smile to falter. There was truth in his statement - Charles had just signed with Ferrari and would soon be the busiest he's ever been in his career as a Formula One driver. You were endlessly proud of him and all that he had accomplished. It feels like just yesterday when you both were just kids with big dreams, but now here you are, actually making strides towards achieving those dreams. Even with a hit song on the radio and promising opportunities ahead, you still felt like you were ages behind in becoming someone big in the music industry. And the thought of possibly leaving your best friend behind as you pursued your dreams weighed heavily on your heart.

He noticed the solemn expression on your face, his eyes full of understanding and affection. "Ah, come on," he said gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You know I mean that in a good way." His voice was warm and sincere."L.A. is a hotbed for the music industry right now," he continued, his excitement palpable. "And haven't you always talked about wanting to go to the States?"

You nodded slowly, unable to contain a small smile at the thought. "Yeah, but...I can't even imagine us being apart for so long," you admitted with a hint of sadness. "We've never been separated for more than a week. And even then, you were blowing up my phone every day." You couldn't help but laugh at the memory.

His own laughter rang out, contagious and genuine. "So now you know that when you're in the U.S., you won't have to worry about us not talking," he reassured you. "Clearly, I can't get enough of you." His words made your heart swell with love and comfort. Despite any ridiculous or anxious thoughts that may cross your mind, you were always reminded that the bond between you two could stretch thousands of miles.

About a week later, you had hired a manager with the help of your parents and were looking at record labels to sign with. Your social media pages were blowing up with new fans anticipating and begging for new music. It was a rightful step for a singer who had just had a song blow up, to make more music.

After many phone calls and contracts, you decided on the best deal to sign with the record label you had always wanted. With a location in Los Angeles, Sony Music Entertainment was your new employer. 

As the days passed, the familiar childhood bedroom in Monaco slowly transformed into a maze of boxes and packing materials. The bittersweet scent of nostalgia clung to the air as you said goodbye to the people and places that had shaped you. It was early February, just before the newest Formula One season started, but Charles seemed to be swallowed up by his work, juggling the responsibilities of being their rookie driver. In those fleeting moments between racing events, he squeezed in time for you, knowing that soon you would both be consumed by your separate paths. On the last night together, you took a nostalgic drive around town, savoring every street corner and landmark. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you returned to your house - now empty and cold without all of your belongings. The silence hung heavy in the air as you sat side by side, cherishing these final moments together.

You both sat on your bed as you rested your head on his shoulder and asked, “How did this even happen?” 

“Your talent will always drive you towards success, how could it not happen?” He replied and it made your eyes water. You weren’t sure how you were going to adjust with your time apart. You’ll miss his advice and little jokes. You’ll miss your late night drives around Monaco with him, taking in the cool air.

As he turned to face you, his piercing eyes caught the glistening trails of tears streaming down your cheeks. His own expression shifted from concern to sadness as he took in the sight of your heartbroken state. With a heavy sigh, he reached out to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek and murmured, "Please don't cry." Your eyes met his with a solemn understanding, but your bottom lip began to quiver despite your efforts.

You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of tears in his own eyes, which only made your own tears flow even more freely. Together, you both sat on the edge of your bed, gripping each other's hands tightly as you cried until it became almost comical at just how much emotion was pouring out of both of you. In between sobs, he managed to let out a small laugh and said, "It's not even an actual goodbye, I'll see you again soon.”

You couldn't help but laugh along with him through your tears. "I know," you replied with a watery smile. "I'll see you before I know it.”

But as the night wore on and the hour grew late, the reality of tomorrow morning's early flight to L.A. began to sink in. Despite wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, you both knew it was time to say goodbye. You stood up and shared one final embrace, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug while yours rested around his neck. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne brought a sense of comfort amidst the pain of parting ways.

“Tu vas me manquer mon amour,” he whispered by your ear, which made you squeeze him tighter. 

“Tu vas me manquer davantage, Char.” You replied with a raspy voice, your cheeks still wet with tears. He blew you a kiss before walking out the door.

~ 5 years later ~

The electric energy of Los Angeles, California pulsed through the air as you walked towards the venue on the opening night of your highly anticipated second tour. Fresh off the massive success of your second album, fans from all over the world were eagerly awaiting your performance tonight. You could already hear their screams and see their signs, some bearing your name since the very beginning of your career. Your first tour had been small, just a few cities in the U.S., but now with your skyrocketing fame, this tour would take you to stages across the globe. The thought of performing for thousands of people in different countries sent a thrill through your veins. As you approached the entrance, excitement and nerves intertwined within you, ready to take on this new chapter in your music career.

As you nervously waited backstage, dressed in a stunning white gown for your highly anticipated opening night in Los Angeles, your mind couldn't help but wander to a familiar name: Charles. The two of you had been inseparable during your first year in L.A., constantly talking and supporting each other's dreams. But as time went on, his calls and texts became less frequent until they eventually stopped altogether. You found yourself relying on social media to keep up with him and were happy to see that he had found success with Ferrari, but also couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and confusion as to why he had suddenly disappeared from your life. You debated reaching out to congratulate him on his wins, but deep down, you knew it wouldn't make a difference.

The next years after that became hard, and you struggled to make genuine connections with anyone in the industry. You found that often other artists wanted to use you for their fame or publicity. But you had found one genuine person, your boyfriend. The two of you dated for two years, but two weeks before the opening night of your world tour, he broke things off. You were devastated, as he had become someone you loved dearly and could trust with your whole being. His reason was that he realized he couldn’t handle your level of fame and that it was becoming too much for him to handle. 

So here you were, backstage, reminiscing on your career up until this point. Your mind ran over the setlist a thousand times. “Birds of a Feather” hadn’t made the cut for this tour, and you stopped performing it all together once Charles had stopped communicating with you. You weren’t sure why he was on your mind so much for your opening night. 

As you stepped out onto the stage, a wave of excited nerves washed over you. But with each step and movement, your confidence grew until it radiated off of you like a second skin. The bright lights illuminated your white dress, making it glow against the dark backdrop. You knew this dress well, having spent hours upon hours rehearsing in it, mastering every twirl and flick of the sleeves. And now, as you sang and danced flawlessly, you felt like a true star. Every note was hit perfectly, every movement graceful and deliberate. It was as if you were born to be on that stage, commanding the attention of everyone in the audience. The familiar click of a metronome and the muffled directions from backstage played in your in-ears, guiding you through the performance like a well-oiled machine. You had become a masterful performer, honing your craft to perfection.

You wished you could remember every moment of this night as you went through the setlist. You performed “the 1”, a song from your most recent album. Fans speculated it was about the recent split with your boyfriend, but really in your mind you knew it was about Charles. Your fans mostly were unaware of Charles and the old friendship the two of you had. He rarely talked about you in the media, and you were never asked about him, even though the two of you were individually growing more famous by the day.

As the final song ended, you returned backstage, the sweat dripping down your face and your body heaving with exhaustion. This tour was more physically demanding than your last one, with intricate dance routines and high-energy performances. But it was all worth it as you heard the crowd's roar of approval after each song and saw their hands in the air, singing along to every lyric. The adrenaline rush and satisfaction of a flawless opening night kept you going despite the fatigue setting in.

You got a flood of compliments from your team and the crew backstage as you felt the dewy feeling of sweat on your forehead cool down. Your manager came up to and wrapped you in a big hug, congratulating you and updating you on the next steps for the tour.

“I know you don’t typically meet people after shows, but there’s actually a visitor here for you. He was pretty persistent.” She told you as you stood outside your dressing room. 

“Who is it?” You asked tiredly, not wishing for long interactions with people after the show. You were worn out, and typically napped or slept through the night after a long show. 

“He said his name is Charles Leclerc. Went on about how you guys were childhood friends. He showed his ID and credentials so we allowed it.” Your manager explained everything and as she was speaking your face became flushed. Charles was here, in L.A? And your management had allowed him to meet with you. You were partly in shock and partly frustrated with how easily he was able to persuade your team.

“Well…where is he?” You asked, and your manager pointed to your dressing room door. “He’s in my dressing room?” You questioned in a surprised voice, lowering your voice in case he could hear you.  

“We weren’t sure where else he could’ve waited. He made it seem like he needed to have a serious talk with you.” She explained further and you put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth, and thought that maybe she was joking. You thought that you’d open up your dressing room door and it would be empty, earning a loud laugh from her and a “Got you!”

As you slowly opened your door, still clad in your flowing white dress, your heart caught in your throat as you saw Charles sitting on the plush brown leather couch. The air was thick with surprise and a tinge of nervousness, evidenced by Charles' fidgeting hands rubbing against his pants. You could barely breathe as you managed to utter a breathless greeting, "Hi."

He stood up abruptly, his body language tense and unsure. “Hi,” he replied.

The silence hung between you like a heavy curtain as you asked, "What...um...what are you doing here?" Your fingers instinctively ran through your slightly tangled hair as you waited for his response, feeling both overwhelmed and curious about this unexpected visit.

As he stood before you, he seemed to struggle with his words, his voice catching and pausing as if trying to contain an overwhelming emotion. You gazed at him in awe, taking in every detail of his changed appearance. The dimple in his cheek still deepened when he spoke, the same crystal eyes sparkled with unreadable emotions. But now his shoulders were broader, defined muscles rippling beneath his shirt, and his neck had thickened with strength. It was clear that time had passed, but it had only enhanced his features instead of diminishing them. "I," he finally managed to say, his gaze never leaving yours, "I came here to apologize." You couldn't believe he was standing in front of you after so long. And in this moment, all you could think about was how much you missed him and how different things could have been if he had stayed.

“Apologize?” You repeated, awaiting further clarification. 

“I’ve missed you terribly.” He began to pour out, finally getting a grip on his words, “Every day we haven’t been together has haunted me. You’ve plagued my dreams, my every waking thought.” He took a swallow, “I see you online, doing amazing things, and I just feel this guilt that I’m not there with you.”

You could hardly believe the words he was saying. You felt the same, you missed him every morning you woke and every night you went to sleep. Yet you felt a tinge of resentment. He could have been there, he could have responded to your dozens of calls and texts. 

“I’m sorry, mon chérie.” He finished his speech.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and your eyes watered with emotion, your face contorted with hurt. Your voice came out breathless as you spoke, "Char, why didn't you call?" Your heart ached with longing and you couldn't understand why he hadn't taken action to bridge the distance between you. The unspoken desire between you was almost tangible, making the current situation even more painful for both of you.

“My ex-girlfriend, once we got together she saw how often we communicated and told me that I couldn’t talk to you anymore. And I thought I loved her so much that I was willing to do whatever it took. But…it turns out…” He paused, looking you in the eyes. 

“What?” You questioned, waiting for him to spit it out. 

“It turns out as the years went on, that I just loved you.” He said as he stepped closer. 

“You don’t mean that,” You denied shaking your head, a single tear running down your cheek. 

“But I do,” he grabbed your hand, “I think I’ve always loved you.”

You broke out into a grin while tears still fell, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. “What took you so long?” 

“I’m sorry mon amour, I guess I was just too stupid to actually do anything. But I love you, I love you so much.” His arms wrapped around your waist, kissing the top of your head. 

You pulled back and placed your hands on his face, admiring his mature features. He took his thumbs to wipe off the tears on your face. “I love you too,” You told him and he grinned. “Will you finally kiss me?” 

His lips met yours in a gentle, yet passionate, kiss. As your heart raced and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you couldn't help but smile as his lips moved against yours. It was your first kiss with the love of your life, a moment that you would never forget.

You had always known deep down that he was the one for you, but you had spent so long convincing yourself that a friendship was all it could ever be. But now, as you felt the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his kiss, you realized that the love of your life could also be your best friend - the person who knows and understands you better than anyone else in the world. And in that moment, you were grateful for every step that had led you to this perfect moment with him.

Charles had to return to his Formula One season, but the two of you called every day. He made it to shows on your tour when he could, and when you traveled to France to play your home show, he was there for every minute of it. 

The crowd knew that this show was special, and fans had picked up on the new romance between you and Charles. Everyone was loving it, and older fans finally put the pieces together on the connection the two of you had. So for your home show, you played “Birds of a Feather” for everyone as a surprise, with Charles in attendance. The song had only changed meaning slightly, as you sang it with more love towards him than you’ve ever had before. Headlines were soon filled with your name along with his.

As the next year rolled around and January came, the two of you were inseparable at award shows, him proudly by your side for every one of your achievements. His smile lit up the room and his hand always found yours in the sea of people. Even when you won your first Grammy, he was there in all of your acceptance speeches, his eyes sparkling with pride.

As the year went on and you took a break from touring, you joined him on the road during his racing season. The roar of engines and smell of burning rubber filled your senses as you watched him race with skill and determination. The paddock quickly became like a second home to you, with fans flocking to meet the both of you. The Ferrari team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. It was a dream come true to be able to share this passion with him, and you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your time off.

Charles never dulled your shine; in fact, he basked in its radiance. He was not intimidated by your fame, but rather, he reveled in it. As you both shared stories about past relationships, Charles' understanding became apparent. He may have been known for different reasons, but he knew the highs and lows that came with celebrity status. Together, you formed an unbreakable bond of understanding and support. Life had become akin to heaven with Charles by your side, a constant source of love and grounding amidst the chaos of fame.

Together, you moved into a luxurious apartment in the heart of Monaco. The spacious living room had been transformed into your personal music studio, with instruments and recording equipment scattered about in organized chaos. The walls were adorned with posters from your past tours and handwritten lyrics. Charles stood by the window, looking out at the stunning view of the city below, while you strummed your guitar on the plush couch. The sense of security and stability he brought to your life was palpable - his presence assuring you that he would always be there, no matter where your music took you. As you played him your latest compositions, his fingers effortlessly danced across the keys of the piano, adding depth and richness to the melodies. Together, you created magic in that space - harmonizing not just in music but also in life.

As you laid in bed one night, your head rested on the pillow turned towards him, you caught him staring at you. You grinned, “What?” 

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen someone more beautiful before in my life.” He told you in a low voice, smirking at you. You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing you should’ve expected him to shower you with compliments. 

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Je t’aime chéri.” 

You both settled into bed, cuddled up next to each other. He kissed your temple, “Je t’aimerai toujours plus.”     

[aftgficrec]

omg it’s finally open!!! so i’ve been looking for these two fics FOREVER, and i can’t find them anywhere :(

the first one was called “the way young lovers do” i think, and it was aaron and katelyn helping neil and andrew set up their new house, and it ended with neil and andrew dancing to the song in their yard. it was very cute and i can’t find it no matter where I look

and the second one was aaron meeting katelyns parents for the first time, and they are super conservative and hate aaron, so they invite neil and andrew to be there to take the heat off of aaron. i remember neil saying andrew bought him a cartier bracelet and he wanted the one in a different colour, and just being a brat in general?

also if you have any similar fics with the four of them bonding, i would love them!

thank you guys sooooo much for this blog! happy holidays <3

OK, so what we have for you is a collaboration where S instantly remembers every fic she’s ever read BY NAME, and A makes random connections you may or may not want. 

The first fic you’re looking for is fluffy, fun, post-canon andreil: ‘We Sat on Our Own Star and Dreamed,’ by fuzzballsheltiepants. The author has locked this fic since its original publication, so you have to be logged in to AO3 to find it. If you’ve ever wondered why some works are locked, check out this article from techcrunch.com.

The second fic you mentioned is ‘the roads I traveled with you,’ which is part 9 of a delicious post-canon series by Ominous that digs deep into the relationships between andreil, andreil + aaron, the twins, and katelyn/aaron, and the stitched-together family they become. I just checked, and part one of this series has nearly 5,000 kudos! -A

also see

the latest roundup of this group bonding (and not!) is our Neil & Aaron: quests, situations, friendship & slash ask here

‘awkward Twinyard/ katelyn & Neil double date,’ and ‘wholesome twinyard hurt/comfort’ here

‘The societies we despise’ here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

We Sat on Our Own Star and Dreamed by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated T, 3815 Words, Complete 2020, Locked]

Aaron & Katelyn have been too busy with their internships at the hospital to visit anyone, but Andrew and Neil just bought a house and they took a few days off to help them move. Fluff and introspection ensue.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

NB: if you love the relationship vibes in this fic, here are other asks where we suggested it:

more like ‘something in return’ here

new Katelyn/Aaron here

post canon long domestic andreil here

post canon andreil fluff + snark here

cute and happy andreil here

canon divergent low angst twinyards here

twinyards relationship focus here 

progress comes in small steps series by Ominous [Rated T/E, Series, Complete, 2020], featured here and here

Before Andrew & Neil and Aaron & Katelyn, there was Andrew & Aaron. This series tracks the ups and downs of healing a relationship that was broken from the word go. 

Part 9: the roads I traveled with you [Rated T, 35542 Words, Complete, AFTG Big Bang 2020] When his brother gets engaged, Aaron doesn't expect it to send his head spinning as much as it does. Marriage has always felt like a dream, or a nightmare, one he never thought either of them would be able to achieve. In that moment, Aaron remembers what he's always known, what keeps his head above water. He wants to be with Katelyn forever. That's never been a question. But marriage hadn't been brought up. For so long it was this abstract concept, a fantasy. He'd always reasoned with himself that it would happen, rationally of course it would, but now... Now Andrew has made the idea a reality, and Aaron has to confront his own wants for his future.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced addiction, tw: homophobia

NB: find art by @autumnalpalmetto here, and below are other asks where we’ve featured this series:

favourite new fics 2020 roundup here

domestic fluff w/twinyards bonding, Neil & Aaron friendship here 

Katelyn & Neil friendship here

let’s focus on Katelyn here

Katelyn-centric hurt/comfort here

Andrew & Katelyn rapprochement here

Aaron & Neil rapprochement here

angsty aaron fics here

Aaron accepting andreil here

fluffiest long post canon college fics here

best post canon fics w/happy ending here

staff fave post canon andreil here

canon divergent low angst twinyards here

healthy sibling rivalry here

twinyards relationship focus here 

Andrew & Aaron’s therapy sessions here

Andrew's pov of meeting Neil here

Neil's sophomore year and beyond here

romantic andreil/growing together here

andreil first time sex here and here

Andrew says no here

andreil getting married here

fics like 'only you' here

more like 'room 308' here

authors like willow_bird here

[url-is-under-construction]

𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 | 𝐉.𝐌 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Requested by the beautiful @jaywolf840 :

Hiya! I was wondering if you possibly wouldn't mind writing a (The 100) John Murphy x reader imagine? 👉🏼 👈🏼 Maybe John and reader stargazing one night (this takes place during season 1-2) and it's basically just a cute fluffy time between the two until they get caught up in a moment, nearly kiss and one of them nearly confesses their feelings but then gets too embarrassed and cuts the night off to go to bed. I hope that makes sense, I dunno I'm kinda tired 😂😅😅

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Fluff, mentions of like violence but very mild, tragic backstories but you guys know the drill.

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Ethereal. That's what it was. The beauty of watching the stars in the sky from the ground was utterly breathtaking, and with John there to view it with you the moment couldn't be more perfect, and neither could he.

𝐀/𝐍: I read this request and died thinking about how cute I could make this so I hope you enjoy it <3

Earth was beautiful. Ever since you'd landed you'd known that this was where you were supposed to be. The vegetation, the wildlife, all of it. You adored the world around you and the abundance it offered. You loved the way running water sounded, and the way it felt against your virgin skin. You relished in the way the wind would caress your face and sweep your hair back behind you. You got drunk on the feeling of the sun kissing your face in the early morning when you left your tent.

Most of all though, you looked forward to the stars. Looking up into the barren land you once called a home, and drinking in the beauty of it from a distance.

A twig snapping from behind you made you jump, pulling your attention away from the sky above you. You didn’t need to turn to see who it was, and a small smile grew on your face as he sat down beside you, wordlessly.

Murphy, or John as you were allowed to call him when only his ears were around to hear it. The privacy the blanket of the night sky offered beat any makeshift tent back in your camp, and every night the two of you would sit and enjoy each others company, stargazing as it was called.

Some nights you would speak to each other, other nights you would sit and enjoy each others company in silence. It didn’t really matter whether your words were involved or not - it meant something to both of you either way.

“The stars are out again tonight.” You commented softly, taking his mind back to last night when a thick cloud cover had obscured them from your view. You had still sat and enjoyed the night, but it wasn’t the same without those little beacons lighting up the sky.

“Mmm.” He just hummed, sounding tired.

Not bothered or annoyed by you, just tired. He worked hard around the camp, and despite was people saw on the outside he was more than a snarky dickhead. You hated to say he was different with you, but he was. Maybe it was because you had taken the time to look past the rude exterior, and you hadn’t let prejudice sway how you treated him when you’d first met him.

“Long day?” You asked, shifting your head to the side slightly to look at him. He looked exhausted, heavy bags and sunken cheeks. His face was downturned without emotion, and his eyes were empty despite reflecting the stars above you.

“Yeah.” He nodded, adjusting to lay down beside you. You followed him, allowing your head to rest by his shoulder, brushing against it gently.

You felt his arm come around your shoulders, holding you. To anyone who stumbled out you would look like a love struck couple, but this was just your friendship with him. It was open and soft and gentle, all the things that he wasn’t.

You loved him either way. You didn’t know what kind of love you felt for him, at first it was platonic but now you weren’t so sure. It didn’t really matter - as long as he knew how you felt.

“You ever wish you could still be up there?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“The Ark?”

“Yeah.” He turned his head to look at you, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

“God no.” You almost laughed. “Why would I?”

“It was easier up there.” He shrugged. “People hated me, but not the way they do down here. I didn’t have to worry about being speared through the chest and strung up as bait, or how I’d find my next meal.”

“I don’t think it was easier up there.” You admitted. “I didn’t have you up there.”

He squeezed your shoulder. “That’s why it would’ve been easier for you.”

He said it as a joke but you could hear the sincerity behind his words. It made you frown.

“You’re perfect, John. You’ve made Earth so much better for me than you can even begin to understand.”

He was silent at your words for a moment, averting his gaze from yours, looking back to the stars for guidance.

A doubtful feeling grew in your stomach, as you wondered whether or not you’d said the right thing. He opened his mouth, as though he was about to say something but he was cut off.

A large crack of thunder echoed throughout the small valley you called home with the rest of the hundred. Droplets of rain fell from the sky, splattering onto your face, increasing with intensity every couple of seconds.

“We should head inside.” Murphy said, standing abruptly. Rain shook from his hair and clothes as he stood, reaching down to offer you a hand up.

You’d expected him to walk in through the gates with you but as soon as you were on your feet he’d turned and walked off, a nervous, almost shy, air about him that you’d never seen before.

You looked to the stars one more time before heading inside, but they were gone, once again buried beneath the rain clouds.

A small sigh left your lips as you trudged inside, already looking forward to your next stargaze with John.

[faggotryandtransjesterism]

VegasPete Fic Rec Masterlist (Pt. 1)

favorites are marked with a (*)

Lost Pet by @clandestinegardenias | 12k | E

Vegas has very few things he truly allows himself to care for, in this life. Going through the routine of feeding his hedgehog, only to find that a second pet has left him in as many weeks, might finally be the thing that pulls him under.

i can't really point to why i like this one so much, but it was my first vp fic and i always come back to it.

spend the rest of your life (what could have been) by toomoon | 15k | M

“I have an idea,” Pete says slowly, and Pol looks up at him. “But you’re not going to like it.” “I’ll take anything at this point,” Pol tells him. “Tell me.” Pete tells him. Pol doesn’t like it.

Pete and Pol get put in charge of a surveillance operation on a potential business rival. The only way to avoid rousing suspicion is to take over a small family restaurant. Vegas is the only person in the Theerapanyakul mansion that can cook. It's all going smoothly until the restaurant actually becomes a success.

vegaspete running a restaurant, what can i say? i love the vibes and the premise of this fic so much. also features trans!Pete, which was a nice surprise.

Sustenance by @givemeunicorns | 14k | M *

His grandmother told him when he was very young that there was no love in the world so filling as a place at the table. That there was no greater kindness, no greater expression of devotion, than to feed another, no better way to make them whole.

As the smoke begins to clear, Pete waits and wonders.

i adore this fic with every bone in my body!! food as a love language my beloved. i remember feeling like i'd been punched in the gut when i first watched ep. 14 and pete said because I'm hungry, and this fic really taps into that reaction, and builds on it with some beautiful character study for both pete and vegas.

fuck it all back down by @syzyg3tic | 4k | E *

Everything about sex is performative. There is no such thing as fucking without an agenda, at least in Vegas’s experience. He wouldn’t have survived to adulthood if he was precious about shit like that.

Vegas and some of the men he sleeps with in his desperate, rage-filled attempts to be loved or hated--either will work.

unparalleled, genius, the Vegas fic. great character study and really influenced the way i perceive him. also sparked my obsession with big and also with vegasporsche friendship. (obligatory CW for vegas' psychosexual obsession with his cousin. Freak <3)

hoping at the gates they'll tell me that you're mine by puckbaes | 34k | E

Missing scenes between Vegas being gunned down and waking up again.

Pete takes care of an injured Vegas, what's left of the minor family's business and Macau. He's reminded that while he resigned from his job, the family that loves him are not going to abandon him.

Bamf!Pete, found families, and glimpses of life after Vegas wakes up.

nice little fluffy domestic vegaspete fic :) i don't read much fluff for this pairing for obvious reasons, but this one's cute.

Five-Star Southpaw by Anonymous | 106k | E *

When Vegas is handed the keys to a failing major family hotel and told to bring it back to life, he knows it’s not a gift, or a test, or even an opportunity to prove himself. It’s a taunt. It’s a way to set him up for failure so everyone can rub his nose in the shitshow he’s left with, defeated and inferior to his cousins like always. It’s the death sentence of his pride in a gilded cage.

But misery loves company and all that, and he finds a surprisingly fitting cellmate in an unassuming looking employee named Pete. Now if only he could get Pete to stop playing hard to get, this cage could become a lot more comfortable.

Obviously. We all know. this is The VegasPete Fic, it's glorious, it's perfect. i think about it at least once a day.

stay with me a minute (swear i'll make it worth it) by incendir | 2k | M

Pete hadn’t anticipated how much breathing would hurt.

[Or, an unseen moment in 1x13]

incendir is an author i read consistently, all of their oneshots are great, so definitely check out their page after you finish this one!

while I do my thing in the background by TheDameJudiWench | 1k | G

"I have a gift for you. This is Pete."

tankhun-centric vegaspete fic my beloved...

First Impressions to Love Expressions (Chapter 12) by @iffervescent | 6k | E *

this is part of a series of stand-alone kpts fics, but i think this is the only vp one. anyway, it's immaculate. the little delve into pete's backstory, his connection to vegas and the family throughout his life are all amazing. great writing, great characterization, highly recommend.

like a trigger (get me ready to shoot) by @veliseraptor | 6k | M *

sadism: psychosexual disorder in which sexual urges are gratified by the infliction of pain on another person. (Encyclopaedia Britannica)

As far as Vegas can tell, there are normal people who want normal things, and then there's whatever he's got going on.

another marvelous Vegas character study, beautiful characterization. lise is another author i read regularly, so you'll see a lot of them on my lists.

That's it for part 1! I'm just going through my bookmarks in reverse order, so there's no real rhyme or reason to the ordering here. If anyone knows of any more of these authors that are on tumblr, pls feel free to tag them!

[pristine-rose]

Ahh to lounge in the comfort of Signora's lap.

Curled up nicely in her arms, as she presses kisses against your forehead and cheeks. One arm wrapped tightly around you, the other holding up a book or perhaps a pen so she can keep working without having to let go of you. Most mornings the fatui who see you have looong given up trying to pretend they don't see the lipstick marks that cover your face, some just roll their eyes and move on, others gently wipe the marks away, which of course only leads to Signora giving you fresh ones to make up for it.

Being able to go out with her, and when inevitably your own coat doesn't prove enough, she just playfully rolls her eyes and opens her coat for you to snuggle up. Does it make walking a bit harder? Yes. Is it worth it? Also yes! Back pressed to her front, her own height and the heels she hardly ever takes off making the difference between you enough that from a distance people can only see Signora and your head poking out of her giant coat.

Anyone talks smack about it being unprofessional to cuddle while performing her duties as harbinger will count themselves lucky to be able to crawl away from the reckoning she brings down on them. Though not all can be handled so easily. Childe pokes fun, your own rather decent friendship with the man finds him making games with you to annoy Signora. The shared favorite between you two, but one she particularly dislikes, is when you are wrapped in her coat with her, your head half buried in the voluptuous fur. The game is simple, Childe throws snacks at you, and you try to catch them. Its a messy game, one that has Signora even considering kicking you off of her lap to protect her coat from the inevitable stains, but she can't stop herself from adoring your little giggles and cheers whenever you catch the snacks, chewing away happily at the small treats that have literally fallen in your mouth.

Buuut don't go thinking she'll forget about the stains left by the snacks you didn't catch. She can't do much more then insult Childe and move on. But you... well she's a loving owner, you'll get your chance to make it up to her. And she does so love watching her sweet little pet tire herself out while she grinds against her owners thigh and begs oh so sweetly for forgiveness.

~🐁

YOU ACTUALLY SENT THIS BEFORE I EVEN ASKED FOR SIGNORA COMFORT HCS . . . 😭 ILYSM

/ completely sfw & fluffy utc

this is just me adding stuff btw bc this ask absolutely sent me 😭 i think i died a little reading it bc 1. i have a weakness for concepts like this 2. i’m so so tired from this past weekend and i needed it and 3. 🐁 anon is just… so so good

lipstick stains . . . she truly didn’t know how much she liked the sight of them on you at first. if anything, her addiction to them started only because she just could not stop kissing you.

how could she ever stop, when your face was just there, laying right on her shoulder? your cute sleeping face as you doze off on her lap — she can’t help but lay little butterfly kisses wherever she can reach without waking you up.

it wasn’t until one day when her lipstick was still freshly done, and she planted a kiss on your forehead that was a little too firm, leaving a light red stain on your skin. she lifted her thumb to swipe it off, until she realized she kinda liked how it looked on you. soon, one mark turned into two, and so on, until she buried your face in cute kisses the moment you woke up <3

this part might be self-indulgent because i’m so so so tiny . . . and your coat concept really reeled that in </3

she feels so warm against you under her coat. her arms are secured around your waist as the coat dangles over her and both your shoulders. if one of her subordinates were to grab her attention, your eyes would peek out of the fur as she turns. it’s such a cute sight — one that makes her feel a little romantic inside, like she’s hugging some little plush in front of her

she loves it when you turn your head or peak out to giggle sometimes, because you’re just so cute to her. she finds herself smiling just a little whenever you pull the coat to adjust it, because it means you don’t shy away from her scent or touch

[majestyeverlasting]

What Happens in the Dark

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: As surely as the days change, people do too. This is a story in which Bucky and the reader are fully awakened to the fact that what lies between them is transcendent of the bounds of friendship. And as a storm comes to rest over the city, they find that they don't need a whole lot of words to express how they feel.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: There's nothing quite like a good friends to lovers story. This one is very fluffy and contains moments I hope you all find cute and enjoyable to read. I had so much fun writing it, and can't wait to put out more of my work in the near future. <3

The sky held promise of rain. Not any time soon, but surely by nightfall. From your place on Bucky’s couch, you casted occasional glances out the french windows to look up at it. The vibrance of the autumn leaves stood out against the pale gray as they moved in the breeze. An old sitcom rerun played on the TV, its laugh track erupting every few beats. But everything that lied unspoken between you was too resonant to attempt to pay any true attention.

Yet it seemed as though Bucky was making out fine, his blue eyes studying the characters on the screen. At least it was that way until you sighed, and started repositioning yourself with small grunts. You didn’t settle again until your legs were extended across the cushions to where he sat at the opposite end. You pushed your feet into his thigh. A small smile found its way to his face as he met your gaze.

“Yes?” His fingers wrapped around your right foot in a gentle squeeze. Even through your sock, the warmth of his palm registered against your skin.

Earlier that afternoon when he’d invited you over, you hadn’t given him a definite okay. The thought of being with him had scared you in a way you’d never admit felt pleasant. Your relationship dynamic had been changing for weeks on end. First, in discrete increments. But it seemed as though the hands of time had begun moving faster than you anticipated. Leaping and bounding towards a point when you’d no longer be able to consider each other friends alone. It started with the breakfast dates on the weekends. Then came the day he gifted you a bouquet of irises, claiming there was a special sale so why not. All the while, you’d been seeking each other’s proximity in ways like never before.

But neither of you ever said anything of it. You simply allowed yourselves to be guided by the unshakable impulses that seemed to spring forth from your innermost being. But you wanted to bring it up. Desperately. Just so it didn’t weigh in your chest like a million shining stars.

Bucky’s eyes never left yours as he waited for you to speak. Part of you wanted to hide. The other wanted to express that you couldn’t sit there with him for much longer. Not when he had his hair pulled back like that and appeared so comfortable with you an arm’s reach away. You needed to do something to get your mind off of how easy it was to be alone with him. Because you were moments away from making a move that only seemed right in your mind.

“Maybe we should go for a walk,” you said. “You know, just to get out for a bit.”

He hummed. “It’s supposed to rain.”

“Not for another few hours. We don’t have to go far,” you said. “Oh! We can go to that new thrift store. Maybe we’ll find something to liven up this living room of yours.”

His shoulders shook with a chuckle. “Alright. If that’s what you wanna do.”

Sometime between running your fingertips over small figurines and admiring a section of framed wall art, Bucky had draped his right arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. It was a thoughtless action, something he often did. But unlike before, it made your chest flutter. There weren’t a lot of people in the shop given it was evening, and scheduled to close soon. The interior was more expansive than the exterior suggested. The inventory included clothes, furniture, and everything else in between. Instrumental versions of classic hits flowed through the space. You hummed along to the ones you knew. The atmosphere as a whole was a stark contrast from the rather modern deli you and Bucky made the last minute decision to dine at before heading to the store.

Upon making it to an aisle stocked with seasonal decor, you strayed from Bucky’s side. Most of the items were fall related with a few Christmas knick-knacks sprinkled in. Something fuzzy caught your attention from between two ceramic pumpkins. It obviously was misplaced. Before Bucky knew it, you were taking a step closer to him and placing a cat ear headband on his head. Your fingers were careful as you made sure it was secured behind his ears. He made no attempt to push your hands away.

“Purrfect,” you quipped. You were laughing at yourself a second later. It was a musical sound that Bucky’s heart wanted to fall in rhythm with. All he did was shake his head with a fond smile.

An older woman happened to pass the aisle and spot you two. Even though she flashed a kind smile, Bucky’s face grew warm.

“Oh, how cute is that?” She gushed. The way you smiled at her would’ve made the sun jealous, he noted.

“Right?” You said, shooting Bucky a wink. “Very cute indeed.”

The woman chuckled. “You guys enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thanks, you too,” you said.

The woman went about her way, and the two of you browsed for a few more moments before making your way to the register. Your persuasion had led Bucky to settle on a few decorative pieces to set on his coffee table. The pattering of rain had become audible as the cashier handed him the bag. It wasn’t until you made it to the door that you saw how the sky had turned pink as the sun began to set. Darker clouds loomed.

“It’s coming down pretty hard. You can wait here and I’ll drive up to get you,” he offered. He’d parked on the street at the end of the block.

“No, it’s fine. A little rain won’t hurt.”

It had been quite some time since you last ran in the rain. The gentle rush of wind and cool droplets were like a blessing from the universe against the warmth of your face. There were certain areas in the sky where sunlight shone through the clouds in thin beams. Soon, your fingers were wrapping around the door handle of Bucky’s truck, tugging a couple times. It popped open on the third try, and you all but climbed into the passenger seat before pulling it closed behind you. A sigh slipped past your lips as you relaxed with a shiver. The air smelled like Bucky and carried an additional hint of spice.

Glancing out the window gave you sight of him. His head was bowed as he walked but his stride was no less collected than it always was. When he joined you in the truck, the first thing he did was offer you a smile as he placed the bag in the back. There were a few wet streaks on his face that he then moved to wipe away with the back of his hand. You mirrored his actions.

“I told you I could’ve picked you up at the door so you wouldn’t get all wet.”

“And I told you it was fine. I didn’t melt.” He breathed a chuckle as he started the engine. When he rested his forearm on the center console, your eyes drifted to his hand. It was larger than yours and strong. A few faint veins were visible. You almost reached out to take it in yours.

By the time you made it back to his place, a storm had settled overhead. You had planned to head back home, but decided to wait it out with him. He disappeared into his bedroom to change, and you ended up on his couch once again. Conflicted feelings crept back to the forefront of your mind. A sudden bolt of lightning split the sky, followed by a wave of thunder that shook the walls. With the weak flicker, the lights faded out. Only a fleeting hint of sunlight entered in to make a silhouette of your figure. The rain grew fiercer. Your heart was beating a little quicker.

Bucky sauntered back into the room with careful steps. “You okay?”

You found his gaze. “I’m all good,” you said. “Just scared me a bit. I wasn’t expecting the power to go out.”

“Me neither. It hardly ever does. I’m gonna go grab a couple emergency lanterns. ”

“Wait…” He listened, remaining in his place. “It kinda looks cool in here. Like, an ominous cool.” There was an almost giddy feeling stirring within you. You thought back to the thunderstorms in your childhood when the whole family would be together in one room telling jokes and attempting to ease any nerves.

“Until one of us stubs a toe,” he countered. “It’s gonna be completely dark soon. I can hardly make out your face now.”

Another bolt of lightning brightened the sky. Then came more thunder.

“But you know I’m right here.” You pushed yourself from the couch and went to stand closer to him. “Between the two of us, you would be the first to stub your toe.” With a scoff, he turned to seek out the lanterns. But you chuckled and grabbed his arm. “I’m kidding.”

“Good. Let me go.”

“Why? Are you afraid of the dark?” You smiled.

It wasn’t the dark he was afraid of. It was the feeling of your delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist. And the fact that not being able to see all of your features would’ve made it easier to kiss you without being reminded that you bore the face of a friend. Even as he attempted to pull away, your grip remained. He was almost convinced you knew what you were doing. But your giggles sounded sweet enough to be innocent. They were a contrast to the storm raging outside.

It was the little things, he realized. Perhaps it always had been. And with you, their culmination was beautiful and terrifying in a way that seemed to know no bounds. The desire they set ablaze was unlike any feeling he had ever known; unyielding and all-consuming. Yet his body welcomed it as if it were a friend. His heart opened itself, and his bones embraced the pleasant ache. With each passing moment, a seemingly forbidden confession inched closer to the tip of his tongue, threatening to push past his lips.

You let him go eventually, smiling at the way he stood still, gazing down at you. Irritating him proved fun at times, but you hadn’t realized he was far from irritated. You figured that out the second his hands cupped your face and his soft lips met yours. Every part of you was overcome with warmth. Even as your buzzing hands shook, you managed to place them on his waist.

“M’not afraid of the dark,” he murmured against your lips. “Haven’t been for the past century.”

In spite of yourself—in spite of everything, you laughed. Right against the lips you’d never felt before. And all the stars that once weighed upon you found their way into the air around you, finally allowing you to breathe. Not like in the same way you had before, but in a way made anew. Bucky kept kissing you, nice and slow, and more gentle than you could’ve ever dreamed. You jumped when a burst of thunder sounded.

He smiled. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” There was a hint of teasing in his hushed tone. When you two parted, he rested his forehead against yours, and you listened to the rain and each other’s breaths. “I think…” His sentence trailed off.

“What? What do you think?”

“That this happened exactly when it was supposed to.” His breath fanned over your lips as he spoke.

Your hands rose to cup his face, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your palms for the first time. Then you let them trail to caress the nape of his neck. His hair was still secured in a small knot, and it fell to his shoulders when you pulled out the hair tie to release. You secured the band around your wrist before running your fingers through the strands. He made a small, satisfied sound.

“I think so too.”

Bucky went on to retrieve the lanterns. When their light illuminated your faces, the people you saw each other as were different from who you were in the dark, and even before that in the former light. You were renewed, transformed, more sure of what was and all that could be. But rather than addressing it, you enjoyed what it felt like to be close to one another. Because that was enough. And when the storm let up, you made no attempt to prepare to head back to your place. Because in more ways than one, it felt as though you were already home.

-

Thank you so much for reading!

More fluffy Bucky fics here.

To join my "taglist," turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting

[the-modern-typewriter]

Say yes

So, thought I'd try my hand at fluffy YA ace romance. You know, to challenge myself because neither YA, nor fluffy contemporary romance are my usual tropes. As in, at all.

Obviously that means I decided to start small and write a novel.

This is the first three two chapters. Reckon it works?

Edit: Changed from three, to two, because since posting I’ve already seen a million structural issues with things I want to tweak and fix in Chapter 3. Ayy first drafts. This is why I shouldn’t get ahead of myself...

Chapter 1

“What about you, Astra?” Chloe asked. “Who do you like?”

Who do you like? It was one of Astra Sutton’s least favourite questions in the world, and it always seemed to sneak its way into parties. Astra twisted her drink between her fingers and searched for a way to be absorbed in another important conversation.

It was Laura’s eighteenth birthday, and the room was clustered with people, spilling out into the hall and the kitchen. There were plenty of conversational candidates. She didn’t even have to talk to them. She could stand awkwardly and listen, or drain her drink and pretend to get another, or go to the bathroom and hope her friends had moved onto another topic by the time she returned. She had options.

“Astra?” Chloe flicked a popcorn kernel at her. It hit her gently in the middle of the forehead, with an aim that would be impressive in other circumstances, and bounced off.

Damn it.

“Hm?” Astra turned back to Chloe, Ingrid, and Laura.

The three of them were crowded in one corner of Laura’s lounge, a huddle of laughter and secrets that had seemed so much warmer only moments before.

Chloe smiled at her, mischievous and full of curiosity. “Who do you like?”

“You know me,” Astra said, and tried for deadpan. “I hate everyone. Ew, people.”

Ingrid smirked.

Laura snorted, and nearly spilled her a cider with a flamboyant wave of her hand. “Oh, please,” she said. “C’mon. We all said.”

The three of them stared at her.

Astra swallowed and took another gulp of lemonade to buy herself time. She could feel her face heating, and she could just imagine them taking it for the flustered embarrassment of a girl thinking about her crush. She knew, of course, that ‘who do you like?’ wasn’t the worst question in the world. Her friends weren’t asking to be mean. Nobody was trying to trip her up. It was simply one of the questions that apparently came with being fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and apparently eighteen too. At seventeen, there was ‘what are you planning to do at uni?’ ‘which uni were you thinking of?’ and ‘who do you like?’

Astra wanted to study Psychology, her top choice could probably be UCL or York, and she liked…

“No one,” she said, and dropped the deadpan. “I don’t like anyone. Not like that.”

Astra had been friends with the three of them for years, in the way that people became friends when they lived in the same small place and went to the same school, day in and day out for about ten years. That made it sound like she didn’t like them – she did. Theirs was a friendship born of the battlefield of secondary school. They might go their separate ways come graduation and never talk again, but should they come to her with a body now, she probably would have buried it with minimal questions asked. With all of that said, she had never seen eye to eye with any of them when it came to dating.

Chloe and Ingrid loved talking about their crushes. When Chloe wasn’t seeing anyone, she liked the fizzing possibility that she could be. Every day was another chance for a meet cute and happily ever after. They’d first bonded over their love of romance novels and the hand touch scene in the Pride and Prejudice movie. Laura didn’t go into the whole dating thing as much, but that didn’t mean she was any less invested in knowing who liked who. Knowing was power.

“You have to like somebody,” Chloe said, more confused than accusing. “We’re not going to judge, or anything.” Her blue eyes were starting to cloud with hurt, with the sense that despite everything, Astra didn’t trust her. Astra could just imagine the internal monologue – Ingrid told us she liked Zoe, so what are you trying to hide? Is it one of us?

“Yeah.” Laura shifted her weight, leaning in. “You can tell us. It’s not like we care if you’re, like, gay or something.”

“I know,” Astra said.

Chloe, Ingrid and Laura exchanged glances. In hindsight, Astra would wonder if it was the glance that did it. It was the kind of glance that people did when someone was being weird. Not bad weird, exactly, just not normal. It made panic rise in her throat. It wasn’t the first time that the four of them had had this conversation. Usually Astra managed to dodge, or they let up with a roll of their eyes and indulgent smiles. Usually, they didn’t look at her quite like that.

Astra turned her head away, desperately scouring the room for an out and –

And Cade Wright walked in. He flashed their group a smile, all crooked at one corner, as he passed by.

Astra felt herself calm. She exhaled a breath. She looked back at her friends.

“Cade,” she said. “I like Cade.”

Cade was, probably, one of the most popular guys in their year. There were a few contenders for the spot. Cade was the tall, dark and handsome option. He was handsome, Astra knew that much. He had the cheekbones for it. More to the point, he had the eyes – pale green, and typically filled with some private amusement. He was in her some of her classes, and she’d enjoyed talking to him on the few times they ever had. He was quick. Sharp-tongued. He was, for all intents and purposes, her type. Therefore, if she said that she liked Cade Wright, they would believe her. Cade was the type of person that people had crushes on. No need for further questions, thank you.

Chloe and Laura’s expressions relaxed, that mischievous smile returning to Chloe’s face.

“He likes you too,” Ingrid said.

Astra’s stomach dropped out. All calm vanished.

“What?” Laura rounded on Ingrid. “How do you know?”

“It’s obvious.” Ingrid shrugged. “He was just smiling at you.”

Astra’s brow furrowed. “He was smiling at all of us.”

“He was smiling at you.”

“Lots of people smile,” Astra said. “It’s a friendly thing to do at parties. It doesn’t mean he likes me like that. I mean, god, what if we were all accused of fancying guys just because we smiled at them?”

“I mean,” Laura swigged her cider. “We kinda are. People definitely do that to women.”

“Okay,” Ingrid held up her hand, “I take your point. But, also. He likes you. Do you want to bet on it?”

“No,” the three of them chimed in unison.

Ingrid scrunched up her nose, disappointed.

Astra’s ears buzzed. He didn’t like her, right? He didn’t. People like Cade didn’t fall for people like her, not in real life. Ingrid was reading too much into it.

“Is it just the smiling?” Chloe asked Ingrid, “or do you have other evidence?”

The conversation, mercifully, moved onto whether it was wrong to assume someone fancied you just because they made a habit of smiling at you, and how exactly then one could tell if someone had a crush. Astra let the chatter fill her ears, tucking her knees to her chest. Her temporary calm had vanished again, leaving behind a swirling pit of uncertainty.

It was generally decided that Chloe was the prettiest of their friend group, with her hourglass figure and long red hair. Astra could see the appeal. Chloe was like summer personified in the body of a girl. Ingrid on the other hand leaned more into the androgynous style, blond and lean, with a truly awe-inspiring collection of heeled boots and long swoopy jackets she was rarely seen without. Astra really liked the boots. Laura was cute too. Wholesome looking. If Astra was gay, wouldn’t she have felt a stirring of something when she looked at one of them? She had tried imagining kissing them before once or twice, just to see if that sparked something in her brain, but despite the movie montage reel of possible scenarios it hadn’t clicked. She ended up getting more bogged down imagining the dialogue, the tension and the heartfelt confessions, without any particular face attached at all. Then she felt weirdly guilty for imagining kissing her friends. Like it was a betrayal, or something.

Astra looked across the room to Cade. He was mid-laugh, carding an artist’s fingers through his black hair. He looked so alive, so comfortable in his skin, so lovely that it almost hurt. She waited for a flutter in her chest, for fireworks, for the desperate hope that he would turn around and catch her looking. If he did, maybe she would look down, and pretend that she hadn’t been staring. They would both know, though. The air would crackle. She would busy herself with some other distraction, until it felt safe to look over again. She would find his attention already on her, waiting. He would smile. If she was bold, she would wander over with a quip. Or, maybe, before she looked over the second time, he would appear at her side. He would touch her shoulder, all casual like, and offer something perfectly snarky and charming all at once.

Astra’s chest ached.

He glanced over, catching her staring at him.

The ache vanished, replaced by mortification. She looked away so fast she got a crick in her neck, and caught Ingrid smirking at her.

“You know what,” Laura said, apparently catching Astra’s stare also. “I’m going to do you a favour.”

Astra’s eyes widened as Laura pushed to her feet.

“Wait—” Ingrid began, smirk dimming. “Laur.”

“Are you-?” Chloe began, more gleefully.

“No,” Astra said. Too late. Laura had appeared at Cade’s side while Astra was still pushing numbly to her feet.

Laura tossed her a reassuring, ‘you owe me’ sort of smile. Then she leaned down to murmur something in Cade’s ear as he looked bemused by her sudden presence.

“Oh,” Ingrid said softly. “Crap.”

Astra felt dizzy as Cade’s gaze snapped to her. She didn’t wait to see if he smiled, or laughed, or did anything to indicate what the hell Laura had said to him. She turned on her heel and strode out of the party, into the chill of Laura’s back garden. Her hands were shaking. Why were hands shaking?

Maybe Laura had been teasing. Maybe Laura hadn’t actually told Cade that Astra fancied him. Laura was drunk, she probably thought she was being funny, even when she really wasn’t. What if he thought it pathetic that she liked him? Even if she didn’t, she still didn’t want him mocking her for it.

God. She wished she could have said she was gay, for certain. Or straight. Bisexual. Anything for certain. At least then she could make a decisive stand on the matter. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have a crush on someone, even an unrequited one would be fine. It was just…she didn’t. At least, not in so far as she could tell. That stupid fantasy of glances across a shared room could have happened to anyone, she’d probably stolen it from a book, it didn’t have to be Cade. It wasn’t about him, not really. So where did that leave her?

Her father said that she had her whole life ahead of her to find someone, to fall in love, that high school was a fish pond. She would find her people somewhere else. Her mother said that sometimes love was learning to love someone, and that the whole love at first sight thing simply wasn’t true. Honey, she said, you have to give people a chance. What happens, Astra, if you meet the love of your life and you don’t even give them a chance? I just don’t want you to regret anything when you look back!

Was giving people a chance supposed to feel so hard? Wasn’t she supposed to just meet someone, hit it off, and know? Her eyes started to grow hot and prickly. She willed herself not to start crying. This was a ridiculous thing to cry about. It could all be so much worse. Her throat grew thicker.

The backdoor swung open behind her, and it was probably Chloe or Ingrid come to check that she was alright. To tell her that Laura had been a bitch, but a well meaning bitch.

“Oh bloody hell, it’s cold.”

That was not Chloe’s voice. Or Ingrid’s. Or Laura’s. It was low and male and a little rough.

Astra whirled around, hastily wiping her eyes.

It was Cade.

Chapter 2

Cade lingered in the doorframe for only a moment – Astra caught a glimpse of Ingrid and Chloe lurking somewhere behind him in the hallway, surrounded by curious faces, before he stepped out without a backwards glance and shut the door behind him with a quiet click. He leaned against it for good measure, as if to stop anyone from following, and folded his arms.

They stared at each for an excruciating beat.

Astra looked down.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was clipped.

Astra exhaled a steadying breath and turned away, to face the garden. She couldn’t see much of it in the dark, but she had been at Laura’s home enough times to be able to imagine the shape and structure of the lawn and plants in front of her. It was better than trying to look at Cade when she felt like such an idiot.

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and tried for casual. “You came to check on me? My hero.”

He must have got up almost the second that she’d rushed out, following with only the smallest of hesitations. If that. The thought made something warm rush through her stomach.

“I can leave if you want,” he said. “Send in the cavalry.”

“Thanks.” That sounded like she wanted him to leave. “Wait.” Didn’t she? ���No. I mean, I don’t mind. You can be out here. It’s a free country.” Wow.

Maybe not looking at him wasn’t such a good idea, because now she had no idea whatsoever what he was thinking. She turned again, and he was there, having apparently been moving to her side. They both froze, barely a foot between them.

Up close, his cologne filled the air around her, woody and enticing. Up close, those ridiculous green eyes of his were dark with anger or maybe concern. Maybe both. Her breath caught in her throat.

Was that having a crush on someone? Or was that just being glad that someone cared enough to follow? Or did that just mean she enjoyed the feeling of being important? She wanted to knock her head against a wall. Maybe then she’d stop.

“I know I can,” he murmured. “That wasn’t what I was asking.” He studied her face. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Oh god, did she?

“And you’re…” he trailed of. “Okay.” He gingerly set a hand on her arm. “Sit down, um—” He looked around the dark garden and alighted on the step. “Sit down.”

“I’m not going to pass out.”

“You’re breathing funny.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Wright.”

That seemed to startle him out of his admittedly chivalrous efforts of care. His lip twitched, that wicked smile, and the anger in his eyes softened.

She found herself smiling back, despite herself. “I suppose I can forgive you,” she said. “You’re not used to girls hyperventilating in response to having a crush on you.”

And…she shouldn’t have said that. It was a terrible line to blurt out. Probably great if she was trying to flirt with him, because it implied it did have a crush and she could see on his face that it was definitely registering on his face as ‘confession’.

Astra threw herself down on the step, and wished she could fling herself into another kinder dimension at the same time.

He hesitated, before sitting down next to her.

“Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you…didn’t want me to know.” He cleared his throat, a grimace twisting his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“They shouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want them to.”

“That’s Laura.” Astra tried for a shrug, for a smile. “Natural born matchmaker. Can’t imagine why anyone would keep their feelings to themselves ever.”

He frowned, the anger rushing back to his face. Damn it.

“Sorry,” she said, again.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Are you alright?” She wasn’t entirely sure why he was upset, but it was clearly written across the hard set of his jaw and his shoulders. His hands balled into fists in his lap.

“Me?” He seemed surprised, then he looked down and uncurled his fingers. It did nothing to make his posture radiate annoyance any less, but she supposed she could acknowledge the effort. He released a breath and shook his head. “I don’t like it when people push themselves where they’re not wanted. Your friends are dicks.”

“I’ll get over it. It will be hard, and require lots of therapy, but I’ll struggle through.”

He snorted. Their eyes met again.

Astra tipped her head back to the sky, searching for stars. Something enormous that might clarify her fate and put all of her problems into a proper perspective. It was, regrettably, cloudy. Still, whatever other horrors the night had wrought, it proved at least she had excellent taste in picking crushes. Even if he didn’t like her, he could have been so much more of an asshole about the whole mess.

“If it stops you hyperventilating,” he said, carefully casual, “I like you too.”

It should have been sweet. It almost made her panic again. What the hell was wrong with her? Should she turn around, now, and explain the misunderstanding? She should. If she did that, she would hurt his feelings. If she did that she would be right back to where she started, with the added joy of having to explain why she would have lied about such a simple question.

His hand moved down to her knee. It was the only point of heat in the evening air.

Her eyes flicked down to it, her heart hammering.

What if she did have a crush on him, and simply didn’t realise it? That could happen, right? She must have picked his name out of the hat for a reason. On paper, he was her type. He was perfect. If she had a crush on anyone, it would Cade Wright. Maybe it was like her mother said, and she simply had to give him a chance.

“Oh,” she managed, because she was being silent for way too long. “Cool.”

On the other hand, if he genuinely liked her, it was probably leading him on not to explain everything immediately. She didn’t want to do that anymore than she wanted to hurt his feelings.

“Cade—” She faltered. She didn’t know how to explain. What if the same look crossed his face that had crossed her friends’ expressions? What if he thought she was a freak? No one normal had to make up a crush. What if she scarred him for life, like one of those horrible people who asked people out as a joke?

His brow furrowed, studying her. Probably he was already trying to figure out why she was being weird. God knew why he would have a crush on her anyway. Could people get crushes from having a few debates in class? A few solid conversations? Maybe he was faking it too and would be really relieved if she said this was a game they didn’t need to play.

He could have simply said he didn’t like her, though. Nicely. To spare her feelings.

She looked at him, brain swirling, stomach in a knot. His hand was still on her knee.

This was it. This was the moment in every YA romance movie or novel she had ever read and silently squealed over. She should have been debating if she wanted to lean in and kiss him. No, she shouldn’t have been debating if she wanted to, she should have been plucking up the courage. Happily ever after.

“Right.” He looked away, into the garden. “You didn’t tell me for a reason, probably. Back to your friends being jerks.”

“I do like you,” she said. She was certain of that much. Just…how she liked him felt like much more of a minefield. “I’m being – um. It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay.” He took his hand away.

She reached out and took it, thoughtlessly, squeezing his fingers.

Their eyes met again. He looked hurt, because of course he did. Confused. She wasn’t following the script. She hated it.

She took a breath to steel herself.

“Yes,” she said.

His head tilted. “Yes?”

“Yes, I’d like to go out with you.”

“So formal,” he said. “Especially given I haven’t actually asked you out.”

Her world froze again. Heat rushed her face.

He smirked.

She scowled at him. “Bastard.”

“You love me.”

“Pretty sure that’s supposed to be a bigger thing, in like six months, where we agonise if we’re ready to say it.”

“Oh?” He laughed. “You’ve planned it out? And when on your timeline is our first date?”

“What – no – I didn’t mean.” She closed her eyes.

He laughed again. It was a contagious sort of sound, it filled the garden and, despite everything, it was such an easy thing. Cade Wright laughed like he could make you believe that everything was going to be fine. Some of the tension fell from her shoulders.

She was still holding his hand, wasn’t she?

She opened her eyes again, and he was watching her again – amused, curious, like he couldn’t wait to see what she did next. Possibly she should have been offended by it. She was strangely flattered instead. People didn’t, as a rule, look at her like that. A thrill ran through her stomach.

“How’s next Friday, for you?” he asked.

“Next Friday?”

“For our date.”

“Smooth.”

“I try.”

She wasn’t doing anything on Friday.

“I can do Friday,” she said, and found herself smiling.

That meant she must like him and want to date him, didn’t it? Or did she just want to date someone to see what it was like? She shoved the thoughts away as best as she could, and squared her shoulders. She focused in on him, on the gleam in his eyes that had replaced the annoyance, and the fact that he was interested, and had followed her, and was everything that she always claimed she wanted.

“Friday it is, then.” His head remained tilted, like he was trying to figure something out. He wasn’t radiating annoyance anymore either.

The wind blustered through the back garden, tugging at his hair. He shivered and let go of her hand to wrap his arms around herself.

“Bloody cold,” he muttered. “You ready to go back in there?”

Astra hesitated, and for a second her brain flashed to all of the questions her friends would have. They would want to know exactly what he had said. They would want details and to know why Astra had been so reluctant to just say she liked him.

Her hands were turning blue, without his to hold.

It really was bloody cold.

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.”

He gave her an odd look, raising his brows.

She shook her head.

He stood up and offered her his hand.

She took it, and when they headed back into the party, they did so together.

[genshin-impacted]

lost & found // Diluc x Reader (1/3)

Word Count: ~3.3k 

Notes: GN!Reader, Seelie!Reader, Diluc/Reader, what more can I say? You’re a cute seelie following Diluc around

Summary: Vaguely remembering the time when you were once human, you are a mini seelie roaming the outskirts of Mondstadt when you find Diluc and decide to follow him-- though he does his share of following you too, through the best and worst of your adventures together. 

“You’re more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren’t you,” Diluc says rather than asks you, though his fondness is clear to see. You can only do a bashful swirl in response. 

-

Alternatively: As a seelie, you’re terrible at leading Diluc towards treasure without running into hoards of hilichurls or enemies alike, but he follows you anyways. 

[Part 2]

.

.

You are a seelie. 

You aren’t quite sure what that is, but you know for a fact that the wispy reflection that you see in the lake is you. No hands, no legs, no head, no heart-- though you remember when you had all that before. You can feel yourself breathe, but you also know you would be fine without it. You touch the water and vaguely feel its coolness and register that it is wet, but you aren't sure what is touching the water or how you know what it feels like. 

You are able to fly. You rise, and you fall, and you twirl in midair, and you know you have never been able to do this until now. "This is nice," you find yourself saying, but your voice comes out garbled and high, so you stop. You suppose losing your speech is the price to pay for the power of flight.

You don't know how long you wandered until you find something familiar to you. In a land of slimes, aggressive flowers, and crystalized butterflies, it's hard for you to take everything in at once. But you can recognize a human when you see one. (It would be difficult not to. You were once human, too, if you can remember.)

The human is strikingly distinct as far as humans go. With bright red hair, the man in black leans against the tree by the lakeside and watches the water lap up against the short cliff. You don't make snap judgments, not usually, but when you see the man in black, you can't help that your first thoughts are that he looks lonely.

You float to him steadily from what you hope is outside of his sight, curious enough to approach and observe what you can of him without being seen. 

Except, the moment you fly near him, he looks directly at you. (Apparently, you glow, if the light that you shine on his face is not enough of an indicator of your bioluminescence.)

You freeze in mid-air, or as much as you can as a globby orb of light. You wait with bated breath as he watches you as intently as you watched him, and you take a glimpse at what your light has allowed you to see: bright red eyes to match his hair. (You've never seen so much red on a person. And red-red too, not just the orange-y red you've seen people with.) 

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to do a somersault. (You think if you were still a human, you’d attempt to crack a joke or start a conversation to break the ice, but alas.)

You expect him to start doing something-- anything. But the man continues to look at you, though with less of a guarded expression and more of a curious one instead. 

You almost feel offended by the strange look he gives you, but then you see his lips uplift into a small smile and you forgive him. For good measure, you twirl in the air and, when he simply follows you with his eyes, you circle around his head like a halo.

"You're a different type of seelie, aren't you?" He says, his arms still crossed when you fly down to smush your face against the red gem at his collar and the Vision at his waist. You loop around his legs and try to lift his fur-lined coattails, only for him to lift it up himself and shoot you a raised brow. "Did you want me to follow you?"

Follow you? You wonder, why would he want to follow you? You don't think you have anywhere to be, let alone anywhere to lead him to. 

Now how to convey that to him…

The red-head watches you as you shake yourself side-to-side in what you hope looked like the shake of a head. "Ah… That's a no, then. I see," he says. He chuckles when you chirp in joy, looping up again. 

He pushes himself off the tree and walks on the path, toward the mansion in the distance. You follow closely behind him. A few steps in, he turns to you-- and you almost feel bashful enough to droop in height.

"Are you following me on purpose?" He asks.

You swirl up and eagerly bob your head. You wish you could ask, but the only thing you can do is trill-- which seems to do the trick when you hear the man huff in amusement before beginning to walk again. "Well, hurry up then," he says, and you chirp once before speeding up to catch to him in record-speed flying. 

(If you accidentally crash into his back at your eagerness, you think the shake of his shoulders in his laughter is only good signs of the beginning of a friendship.)

.

.

.

You hope the man you’ve decided to follow doesn't mind that all you can do is trill and twirl in the air. You make for a poor partner in conversation, considering you cannot supply the words to respond, but you think he at least finds you amusing at least if the small smile on his face is anything of note. You think he looks rather charming like that, as opposed to his straight-faced somberness when he was alone. Very mysterious, you think to yourself, must be popular.

When you follow him and see groves of grapevines and a mansion of formidable size, you think perhaps his rugged handsomeness and broodingly mysterious nature aren’t his only charm points. 

(You wonder if you can eat. You press where you think your mouth should be onto a bunch of grapes only to be disappointed by a lack of action. 

"What are you doing?" The man's voice calls out to you, amusement laced into his words. You turn around and speed back to him, feigning innocence.) 

The two of you enter the confines of Dawn Winery-- or so you read from a sign. You watch curiously as your mysterious man waves his hand in greeting when a few maids bow respectfully and follow him into the back where a man waits by a wheelbarrow.

"Master Diluc," the man says, and you are elated to finally put a name to a face you've followed for a while now. The winery employee looks past him at you, and you instinctively hedge closer to Diluc, almost hiding behind his hair. "Is that… a seelie?"

"So it seems," Diluc replies, crossing his arms. He takes a look at you. "Though it has yet to guide me anywhere."

You let out an extended squeak of indignance that makes him laugh, uncrossing his arms before he turns back to the worker at hand to discuss business. 

You'll show him, you think huffily. You can guide him somewhere-- it's in your bones (metaphorically). You found him, didn't you? You reason, surely there is something innately Seelie about you that will lead him somewhere.

Most seelies, as you have learned from watching Diluc follow the larger blue seelies, guide people to a treasure chest or some kind of monetary reward for leading them back to their seelie courts. You wonder if they are programmed to know where they are supposed to go and if there is a natural pull to a certain place. You wonder if it's anything like your wandering curiosity similar to that of a child, hoping to see what lies ahead and barreling forth. 

Either way, you take the lead and Diluc follows you out into Teyvat.

And he follows you right into enemy territory.

The first time feels like an accident, and after Diluc destroys the encampment, he finds a box of artifacts as a reward for his battle prowess. (You've never seen so much burnt grass.) The second time you guide him into enemy territory feels like a coincidence. They were next to each other, and hey, Diluc is able to find an exquisite chest this time filled to the brim with mora.

The third time around, it is hard to argue otherwise.

"You're more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren't you," Diluc comments, settling down onto a log as you (metaphorically) bury your head into your hands. To convey such emotion as a seelie, you droop to the ground as flat as you could possibly be at his feet.

"I'm kidding," he says, watching with quipped lips as you rise from the ground moodily. "We did get some treasure out of it, so it wasn't a total loss." He reaches out with his hand to gently brush over your front as he would a cat-- and you react as a cat would, preening into his hand. He lets out a huff of laughter. "Affectionate, aren't you?"

You do a bashful swirl.

.

.

.

You realize soon enough that most people would not call Diluc private or stoic. Charming, a man with a way with his words, succinct, and pleasant are only a few things you've heard people say about him. And you were right-- he is a popular man if the eyes that follow him and the dreamy sighs that come after he leaves is of any indication.

The mysteriously cool Diluc you meet on the first day is vastly different from the man that everyone else interacts with on a day to day basis. He's not charming all the time, but he has a way about him that exudes confidence and almost an elitist composure. In some ways, you are glad-- you don't have to hide away behind his collar or in his hair (you still do this, if you're honest, just because his hair is so fluffy), afraid to mar his pristine reputation as a local bad boy. And in other ways, you are a bit smug, to know a side of Diluc that he shows to very few people.

Kaeya is one of those few people you have seen Diluc act anything less than amicable towards. 

"I was hoping one day you would have someone at your side but I have to admit, Master Diluc," Kaeya says, propping his face on his hand in amusement, "this is not quite what I imagined."

You let out a titter of laughter at the difference between the two men's expressions as Kaeya pokes at your little translucent ears. Kaeya looks at you with mesmerizing amusement as Diluc glares at Kaeya over his wiped-clean glass like he would like to do nothing else but break it over the other's head. ("It wouldn't hurt that much," Kaeya tells you flippantly. "Not as much as the hangovers his drinks give me.")

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

"Not really, no." Kaeya replies, feigning hurt, "Why, don't want me here?"

"Never."

Kaeya gives you a pointed look akin to a puppy. "His words are colder than my Vision, mini seelie," he says to you. "Careful not to get frostbite now."

"You have the privilege of having earned my ire," Diluc says shortly. "Also," he slaps Kaeya on the back of his hand when he goes to pull at your ears, "stop that."

"Protective, aren't you?" Kaeya chuckles, watching as you gaze up at Diluc adoringly. "I think you're one phrase away from telling me to get my own mini seelie."

At this, you let out a long coo, flying up to bop Kaeya gently on his nose before going over to Diliuc and rubbing your face onto his cheeks. You hear Diluc let out another breath of laughter, and you feel his hand press you closer to him. “Are you comforting me?” He asks in amusement, and for once, he does not berate Kaeya for joining in with his laughter. 

“The pair the two of you make,” Kaeya drawls, picking up his glass of Death After Noon. “You’d fight wars for each other, wouldn’t you?”

Of course you would, you think, though there was very little you could do as a seelie-- and you forget that at times. 

To be fair, most of the time, Diluc didn’t seem to treat you any less than his traveling companion. You’re only reminded when you float on your own when he’s cleaning up the tavern and get chased by cats and birds alike, only to come flying home to Diluc blubbering about your near-death experiences (though was it even possible for you to die?). And when you try to, in attempts to help Diluc out, scold a rowdy customer into behaving by slamming your body into their face rapidly without doing any damage whatsoever.   

The two of you-- Seelie and Uncrowned King of Mondstadt-- were a pair of renown. (“Two peas in a pod,” Venti would say the first time you led Diluc to him at Starsnatch Cliff, and “always together like bread and butter,” he said to you two the second time you find him near Starfell Lake. And “are you two following me?” when Venti walks into the tavern for the third consecutive meeting.) And if you ever doubted that Diluc cared for you, you had to look no further than when you were stolen from Diluc’s side by treasure hoarders who didn’t know any better.

It is in these moments where you are viscerally reminded that you are a seelie-- a being meant to guide people to treasures-- and not what you have been for the past few-- weeks? months? by Diluc’s side. You realize that you’ve never been hurt in this form before when you are kidnapped. It didn’t occur to you that you could feel any pain, and you wonder why not when you can feel the softness of Diluc’s hair and the warmth of his hand-- all gentle, loving gestures. Being squeezed by the treasurer hoarder’s hand feels suffocating, like your lungs being crushed under a massive, unrelenting weight.

It is not pleasant, to say the least, especially when they threaten you to take them to treasure that you know you cannot locate. 

Or can you? 

With convincing pulses of light, as though you’re approaching actual riches, you lead them where you lead people (or rather, just Diluc) best. 

The enemies of your enemies are your friends; you watch as an axed mitachurl spins around, chasing after the treasurer hunters who with varying degrees of fear, run away. They would have gotten away scot-free if they had not run into Diluc who had somehow found you before you could come back to him.

His phoenix burns bright especially in the moonless night, and Diluc takes care of two enemy camps that night. 

“Clever,” he says, making you preen, “leading them here. They really didn’t know what they signed up for when they started following you, did they?”

How did you find me? You trill, twirling around. And there should be no reasonable way for Diluc to understand what you’re trying to say, but he does anyways. 

“I just did what you usually do for me,” Diluc says, putting his hand up so you can gently land on it. Your glow illuminates his face in the softest shade of color. You watch as his lips turn up into a small smile. “I led myself to wherever the trouble was and knew I’d find you.” 

(Diluc will never tell you this for as long as you are a seelie, but the moment you do not come back to him when he finishes up his shift at Angel’s Share, his stomach drops. It shouldn’t have been hard to spot you, a glowing light, amongst the quiet, softly lit streets of Mondstadt, but he gives the city a quick lookover and cannot find you. 

He learns about the treasure hoarders from his connections and does not hesitate to take his broadsword with him and go looking for you. 

He runs into two other treasure hoarder camps and fights three groups of slimes before he finds the hilichurl camp you’ve led the hunters into, beyond relieved to see your familiar light in the distance.)

From that night, Diluc finds a mini seelie (you), sixteen anemo sigils, an old broadsword, mora, and a few treasure hunter insignias left behind. He gives you a sunsettia even though the both of you know you cannot eat, and you sit together at the edge of a cliff, watching the moon come out from its hiding place within the clouds. 

You have never felt safer.

.

.

.

You don’t really sleep, but every night you take your place by Diluc’s pillow and let time pass you by. Time feels different as a seelie, especially when you do not have Diluc to ground you to the schedule of a normal person. 

Though, if you were honest, it isn’t as though Diluc keeps regular hours himself. How many times have you bullied (read: squeaked at) him into turning in before dawn? How many times have you pressed your entire translucent body onto his face so he can take the hint to finally take a break? You vaguely remember being a human, and you think you should be abhorred by the amount of sleep Diluc isn’t taking, considering how good sleep can feel. 

On the bright side, Diluc has gotten more used to your antics that it only takes a little nagging from your end for him to turn the desk lamp off.

“You’re quite persistent,” he comments, following you with his eyes as you press your body into various spots in the ceiling above him. “I can’t tell if I’ve been blessed or cursed with you as some sort of guardian.”

Guardian seelie, you titter, spinning around with your ears outstretched as though you were an angel. Special isekai seelie, you laugh to yourself, and Diluc only watches you fondly as you float down. 

"’Stripped of all that the body once held close and the soul once held dear, song and memories are all that now remain of yesteryear,’” Diluc recites quietly as you look up to him. “‘The last singers-- the first Seelie-- they played their final tune in the halls of angels.’" 

What is that?

“It’s a song I remember hearing when I was a child,” he says, “about seelies and their origins. I don’t remember if there was anything else, but it came to me today when I was thinking of you.” You wait for him to continue as he dims the light, your glow the only thing illuminating the room other than the moon. “Most seelies want to go back to their seelie courts… but it doesn’t seem as though you want to.” He pauses. “Or is it that you don’t have a court to go back to?”

You stay silent. 

“Sorry, forget what I said. It doesn’t matter in the end anyways.” Diluc scoops you up from his lap to place you at your usual place on the other pillow by his head. You softly trill when he gently pets you, and whether you mean to or not, you glow just a bit brighter for a moment.

“Even if one day you decide to leave, the winery will always be open to you,” he says. “Adeleine and the rest of the maids will recognize you and let you in-- though I suppose the entirety of Mondstadt knows who you are by now so I guess I don’t have to worry about that, do I?” He smiles when you coo softly.

“Good night,” Diluc says to you, as he does every night, and sleeps knowing you cannot say it back in words, though he understands you regardless every time.

If you weren’t a seelie, would you have been able to be as close to Diluc as you are now? Would he still have cared about you to the extent he does now?

Even if these questions did not have the answers you wanted to hear, you think to yourself, as your heart warms (though you have no heart) from the sight of seeing Diluc’s even rise and fall of his chest, that you wish that you’d one day be able to say ‘good night’ back to him.

.

You can only watch the moon rise and dream.

[ghostdrew22]

hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO

Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺

Butterflies and Paper Hearts || D.M, H.P

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really Warnings: ANGST, swearing, Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him.

WORDS : 3864

First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this. I read the request when it first came in and I loved it but I’ve been struggling to conceptualize it, and then I fell into a bit of a sad spiral because of all the other stuff that’s been going on in my life, which is why I took me so long to complete it. Second of all, I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. Third of all, thank you so much for this request! It’s a lovely concept and I really enjoyed writing it <3

~~~

Butterflies.

Flying. Soaring. Alive.

The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.

It was butterflies erupting.

~~~

The first time that you noticed Draco was in your fifth year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in Charms together, as usual, and you’d accidentally sat next to him instead of Padma.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what happened this morn-“ You stop speaking the second you notice that the person beside you is, in fact, not your best friend but rather a scowling Slytherin. “You’re not Padma.” You frown.

“No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What gave it away? The green robes or the blond hair?”

“The snarky attitude.” You instantly reply and he looks taken aback for a second, “Who are you anyway?”

If you’d thought he looked shocked before, you were wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Who are you? What was so confusing about that sentence?” You raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not a Ravenclaw.”

He scoffs at your remark but answers anyway, “I’m Draco? Draco Malfoy?” He asks, a pretentious tone lacing his voice. “We’ve shared this lesson together since you got here last year?”

“Stalker much?” You ask with a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you Draco, I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” He replies simply as he takes the hand that you’d outstretched. “Some of us pay attention.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what happened this morning?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“You were about to tell me about what happened this morning.”

“Oh.” You respond in embarrassment and watch as his smirk grows.

“What? Am I not worthy of your great story?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t think it’ll interest you.”

“Try me.”

“Right, what’s all this then?” Padma asks as she stops in front of the desk with a confused expression.

You giggle at her obvious confusion, “I accidentally sat here instead of by our normal spot. Do you know this miserable boy?”

“Better than I’d like to admit.” She responds sourly before turning a harsh gaze toward Draco, “Daddy’s boy.”

“Wench.” He responds and she rolls her eyes.

“Are you coming to sit with me?” Padma asks as she turns back to you and you shake your head.

“Maybe tomorrow, I’d like to sit here and annoy him today.”

“I cannot possibly stand in the way of that, you’re doing the whole grade a great service.” Padma replies with a laugh as she goes to sit a few desks away from you.

~~~

Day 1 - 1 Heart

Hearts.

Fragile things.

It’s the next Monday when you have Charms again, and you decide to sit by Draco’s desk in hopes of him coming to sit beside you.

“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asks as he peers over your shoulder before sitting in the chair beside you.

“Origami.” You respond with a smile and he raises an eyebrow toward you. “That thing where you fold pieces of paper into shapes?” You ask and he nods in understanding.

He takes his seat with a sigh, “Sounds boring.”

“Everything sounds boring to you.” You roll your eyes before finishing up the origami heart.

“True.”

You give it a once over and smile in satisfaction before turning to Draco and handing it out him. “Here.”

Hearts. Absurdly fragile things, Draco thinks as he feels his own heart begin to race. Here you are, nonchalantly handing him a piece of paper, and he feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself at the gesture. Y/N, giving me a heart.

He rolls his eyes and takes the object from you with a scowl, “Why are you giving this to me?”

You shrug, “You’re not completely intolerable, you’ve earned it.”

He smirks, “Careful, people might start to think that you like me.”

You smile, “Maybe I do.”

Your smile reminds him of butterflies- bright, fluttering, inviting, warm, beautiful.

He rolls his eyes and makes a big show of tossing the origami heart into a nearby bin, and you fight to hide the hurt hidden behind your eyes. But what you don’t know is that at the end of the Charms lesson, once everyone else has left, Draco goes into that very same bin and pulls out the heart.

Day 20 - 20 Hearts

“Are you still doing this?” He asks in annoyance as you hand him another origami heart, the same way you have, every morning, for the last twenty days.

“Yup. I’ve got no reason to stop.” You shrug with a small smile.

“How about the fact that I think they’re stupid and I don’t like them?”

“You’re under the misconception that I care about your feelings.”

He chuckles and brings his face down to yours till you’re inches apart. “I think you care a lot more about my feelings than you’d like to admit.”

You swallow and look away from him, trying to avoid the warm feeling that’s creeping up your neck and settling into your skin. “You wish blondie.”

“Mhmm.” He replies absent-mindedly as he turns into the classroom, drops the heart into the nearest bin, and sits in his seat.

You try to look unbothered as you go to sit beside him, ignoring the disappointment that’s churning your insides.

Day 35 - 35 Hearts

You watch as Draco inspects the origami heart from the Slytherin table, hoping that he might open it this time.

“He’s going to break your heart, Y/N.” Padma whispers from her seat beside you in the Great Hall.

You shake your head and let your eyes drift away from the blond at the Slytherin table. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s a lot better than you think he is.”

“Y/N, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have and I know that this isn’t going to end well.”

“And why not?” You ask defensively.

Because you’re a muggle-born, Padma wants to say, but she knows that it isn’t her place to crush your dreams so harshly. She shakes her head instead and smiles sympathetically, “Nevermind, I’m sorry for overstepping.”

You don’t notice, too busy talking to Padma, that Draco tucks the little piece of paper into his robe with a small smile.

Day 50 - 50 Hearts

You don’t exactly know when you caught feelings for Draco, it’s like all the small moments just bunched up together, but you know that it wasn’t your intention. The hearts, the sitting together in charms, it had all just started as friendly gestures in an attempt to get the scowling boy to befriend you, but somewhere along the line things just got too messy.

And now, you’re utterly infatuated with him.

You take a deep breath as you pull out the small box from your bag containing Draco’s Christmas present. The train comes to a half at platform 9 and 3/4, and you quickly grab your belongings before rushing out of the train in order to catch the blond before he goes home for the holidays.

You catch him by the door and you smile at him. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Another paper heart?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and you shake your head.

“No, it’s something else actually.” You hand the box to him, wrapped in a mix of dark green and navy blue paper, and he accepts it with a skeptical glance.

“What is it?”

“A Christmas present.” You laugh and he nods sheepishly in acknowledgement.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t get you anything…”

“I didn’t want anything.” You smile again, “That’s not why I got you a gift.”

You watch as he nods again and looks out the window. “Then why did you get me the gift?”

“Cause we’re friends.” You shrug and he swallows.

If he were any other person then the erupting butterflies in his stomach would be an obvious sign to pull you closer and hug you till both your arms hurt. If you weren’t a muggle-born witch, and his parents weren’t watching him intently from outside the train, then this would be the moment that he seized to let your friendship blossom into more.

“We’re not friends.” He spits out coldly, and you’re taken aback by the sudden harsh tone.

“Okay…” You reply quietly, “Acquaintances?”

“For fuck sake…” He mumbles with a sigh, “Y/N, I don’t like you, at all. You’re annoying, you’re pushy, and worst of all, you’re a mudblood.”

Harsh words, words that taste of venomous denial, are running out of his mouth before he can stop them. The look of astonishment and sadness on your face has regret dancing on his tastebuds like the taste of tar, and he struggles to push that feeling down.

“You don’t mean that…” 

“I meant every word, and I can repeat it if that empty skull of yours didn’t catch it.”

You shake your head and look down at the ground, trying to blink away tears, and he nods as he turns to finally leave the train.

“Draco.” You choke out and he whips his head back angrily.

“What?”

“I forgot to give you this today.” You whisper as you hand him his origami heart and push your way past him toward the platform.

You feel sick, you feel sad, you feel disappointed. There’s a twisting and churning that’s going on in your stomach but it’s not like normal, it’s the opposite of what you’ve felt every time before.

It’s butterflies dying.

He watches you walk away as a lump forms in his throat.

Day 65 - 0 Hearts

Draco walks into charms half-expecting you to be sitting somewhere else, and half-hoping that you’re sitting in your usual seat beside him. He didn’t open the Christmas present, too much guilt weighing him down, and he hopes that you don’t give him any more paper hearts.

He feels an odd combination of anguish and comfort when he sees that you haven’t moved, and goes to sit beside you in silence. You turn to him and smile but say nothing to him, not then and not for the rest of the lesson. When you get up to leave he half-expects you to drop an origami heart on his books, and disappointment consumes when you don’t.

Day 75 - 0 Hearts

“Morning.” He mumbles as he finds a spot beside you, as usual.

“Morning.” You respond.

That’s all the conversation that you two have now. A part of you misses the way the two of you had been before, easy-going, sarcastic, in-sync, but an even bigger part of you understands why that had to be over. He could never allow himself to love someone like you without resentful undertones of disgust and shame, and you could never settle for someone who doesn’t love you regardless of your blood purity.

“Y/N…” Someone whines from ahead and you look up from your desk to find Harry stood in front of you.

You laugh at his childish behaviour, “Yes Harry?”

“Please help me with this assignment?”

“No.” You respond bluntly, just to mess with him, and he pouts at you.

“Please?” You shake your head, “Please?” You shake your head again and he pouts at you hopelessly, “Pleaseeee?” He begs once more and drags out his plea.

You laugh once again and nod, “Okay fine.”

“Thank you so much!” He exclaims excitedly and leans over the desk to hug you. You shake your head and giggle in his arms, and Draco has to look away to ignore the looming feeling of jealousy consuming him.

Day 103 - 1 Heart

“So, I know that we’re not friends or anything…” You start as you turn to Draco, “But Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I can’t resist the urge to give you one more.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but feels realisation wash over him as you hand him an origami heart, one that’s bigger than all the rest you’ve given him in the past. He nods and takes it from you, trying to pretend as though his heart isn’t swelling at the gesture. “Thank you.” He responds curtly before the two of you revert back to silence.

It’s only when he’s alone in his dorm room that night that he actually looks at the origami heart. It’s red, and you’ve written his name across it in cursive. He runs his fingers along it and allows himself to unfurl it, feeling shocked to find words written inside it.

I know you never read these, so I’m probably wasting my time, but I wanted to say that I miss you.

Ridiculous right? I even feel stupid writing it. But it’s the truth, I do. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way you would scribble nonsense in my book to distract me from the lesson, and I miss the way you’d get so frustrated when I did the same. I miss the way you’d make fun of me for being a nerd, and try not to look proud when you outdid me in tests.

I miss your jokes too, even though they weren’t really funny, and the way you’d always forget your textbook so we were forced to share and we had an excuse to talk. I miss you a bunch, even though I know that you don’t miss me nearly as much.

Happy Valentine’s Day pretty boy,

I wish you could’ve loved me the way that I love you.

He quickly jumps off his bed and walks toward his trunk. He pulls out the Christmas gift that he never opened and another small box that he’d used to store all of your origami hearts, and begins to go through them all.

Note 1 - You���re weird but I like you. Very defensive, I hope that I can knock down those barriers. Note 2 - Your hair looked really nice today, made you look like a famous movie star who pays people to do it for him. Do you secretly have a hairdresser in your room? Note 3 - Your eyes are a strange colour, a cross between blue and grey, it reminds me of the sky before a really pretty rainstorm.

He opens every heart, from the first to the last, processing every last compliment that you’d ever written. With every word he reads, he feels a mixture of love and guilt wash over him simultaneously. Love for you- because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and way too good for him- and guilt- for treating you so horribly because he was scared, when all he had wanted to do was kiss you, and hold your hand.

9 - I’m oddly very proud of you for beating me in the latest Charms assignment, you might actually be the bigger nerd between us both. 20 - I know you hate that I call you pretty boy but that’s what you are, you’re unnecessarily pretty! 26 - You’re very funny when you’re not trying to be. Your jokes are horrendous, but your impersonations and quips can be quite amusing. 35 - I’m starting to think that you don’t read these. No, I’m sure that you’re not reading these. Doesn’t matter though, there’s so many things that I love about you and I think I’ll explode if I don’t put them down somewhere. 47 - I’ve fallen very hard for you, it might be your dumb laugh or the way you tickle me whenever you walk into class, but I didn’t know that you could feel this much for a person. Damn you pretty boy. 50 - Padma thinks you’re no good for me, I agree, but I don’t care. I love you too much to give you up.

The last of the collection is the Christmas gift that you gave him. He’d refrained from opening it out of shame, feeling unworthy of a gift from you after being so cold to you that day on the train. He unwraps it and finds another paper heart, with a silver engraved ring above it. The words, ‘pretty boy’  are inscribed into the ring and he smiles at the sight, a few tears sliding down his face.

Pretty boys like you deserve a little more than paper hearts, I hope you like it.

He slips the ring on before getting off his bed, walking to his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper.

Day 104 - 1 Heart.

It’s Valentine’s Day and his palms are sweaty, for the first time in his life Draco has sweaty palms because of a girl.

You’re in your usual seat and you’re folding another piece of paper. His heart soars at the sight of you so focused, that goofy smile you always have whenever something demands a lot of your attention, and your hands working delicately against the edges of the paper. He stops in front of you.

He clears his throat and you look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, Draco, morning.” You respond with a small smile, obviously still apprehensive about him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Y/N.” He smiles back and slides an origami heart onto the desk, beside the butterfly that you seem to have been folding.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion as you pick it up and inspect it.

“You’ve made enough to be able to tell by now.” He deadpans and you laugh softly with a nod.

“It’s a paper heart.” You smile up at him, “Did you make this for me?”

“Maybe.” He responds curtly as he slides into his chair beside you, but you catch the shy smile he’s harboring.

“Thank you.” He nods, “I could’ve done better though.”

He scoffs, “That’s not a fair comparison.”

“And why not?” You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

“Read the note inside and you’ll know why.”

“There’s a note inside?” You exclaim excitedly as you start to unfold the heart and he yanks it out of your hands.

“No! Read it later when I’m, like, far away from you.” He says defensively and you furrow your eyebrows but nod in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll read it after school.” You take it back from him and put it in your robe. You resume folding the butterfly and smile when you see that it’s done.

Draco watches intently as you finish it, expecting you to hand it to him once it’s finished, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion when you set it down and scan the classroom.

“Harry!” You exclaim as you watch him walk from the door and toward you with a bright smile.

“Y/N.” He responds once he’s standing in front of you. “Is this for me?” He asks once he sees the butterfly on your desk, and Draco is about to scoff at the question but you nod your head eagerly.

“Of course!” You pick it up and give it to Harry, watching excitedly as he opens it up and reads the note inside.

Draco watches in silent envy as Harry laughs, at whatever you’ve written in the note, and brings his lips down to your forehead. “Thank you so much butterfly, I love it.”

You smile proudly and your eyes light up as you watch Harry cast a charm to make the butterfly flap it’s wings and fly down to his desk. “When are you going to teach me that? I’ve been asking for weeks now!”

“If I taught you then I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.” He smirks as he leaves to his desk and you shake your head with a laugh.

“You two seem to be quite friendly now…” Draco mumbles, trying to hide the jealousy in his voice. The butterflies that had been erupting in his stomach earlier that morning being trampled to death by Harry.

“Yeah, we’ve been-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as you catch a glimpse of the ring that you bought Draco, “You’re wearing it!”

He smiles at your excitement, thinking about how such simple expressions from you leave butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Yes.” He chuckles and you smile.

“I thought you didn’t like it.” You respond softly and he feels his heart break.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t want other people getting jealous.”

He smiles at you and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach, like rosh bushes blooming at the sight of the sun, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.

Later that day when you’re sat beneath a tree and reading Draco’s letter, you know exactly what that feeling is.

~~~

Y/N.

Beautiful, funny, kind, observant, utterly perfect Y/N.

I’ve spent the last three hours trying to come up with a reason for you to forgive me, I couldn’t come up with one. I also tried to find an excuse, any really, that could justify my horrid actions over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t find one. So instead, I settled on just telling you the truth.

I’m a coward.

You’re probably laughing right now and thinking, “He’s only realising this now?”, and the answer is yes. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re the brighter one between us two. It took me 103 more days than you, to realise what you knew the first day you made me a paper heart; the two of us are meant to be.

That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Doesn’t matter anyway, because in note 12 you said that you enjoy my cheesy anecdotes. I’m not sure why though, I’m not particularly sure why you love anything about me when you’re you, but I guess some mysteries can never be solved.

I’m sorry for those words I said that day on the train, I didn’t mean them. I was scared of what my parents would think if I fell for a muggle-born witch, but I forgot one important thing; it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you. If I could spend the rest of my life getting these perfect little paper hearts from you, listening to your sweet laugh, bothering you when you’re trying to get work done and buying you rings that match the ones on my hands, then I’d be over the moon.

I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you this; I love you Y/N. I know that I haven’t earned a second chance but if by some miracle you decide to grant me one then I promise to make it worth your while.

I would pick the stars out of the sky for you Y/N, if only you asked me to.

Happy Valentine’s Day from your pretty boy.

You look up from the letter and wipe the tears that had managed to escape, before getting off the grass and running back into the castle. When you find Draco eating dinner in the Great Hall, and see him flash you a shy smile, you instantly know what that feeling from earlier was.

It was butterflies reviving.

~~~

get added to my taglist <33

taglist : @purpleskymalfoy, @astoria-malfcy, @dreaming-about-fanfictions, @dracoscene

~~~

I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again.

anyway, love you all,

jean <3

[juliettecxi]

Hiii💫

Could you please write fluff/angst (srry i couldn't decide so it's up to you) prompt 3 for jordelia?

Prompt number 3: “Is that how you really feel?"

Fandom: The Last Hours

Ship: Jordelia

Genre: modern au, fluff, friends to lovers, cuddling on the bed, this one is really cute even if I say so myself

Prompt list | writing playlist

James’s fingers gently caressed Cordelia's hair while the other had her head on his shoulder. A netflix rom-com played on the laptop opposite the two, but the movie was forgotten to James, who could only focus on her.

He had been toeing the line between friendship and romantic feelings towards her, and it was on days like this that it uncontrollably washed over him, and he felt as though everything was tinted pink when he was with her.

She’d come over earlier, her face tear streaked. She didn’t even have to ask if she could come in and stay awhile before James dragged her to her room and gave her a box of tissues, before escaping to the kitch and grabbing some food and drinks. He’d then whipped out his laptop, playing the cheesiest movie he could find, before wrapping them both in a blanket and cuddling on the bed together.

He looked over at her now. His Daisy, the bravest and strongest girl he knew.

“The movie is on the laptop Jamie, not me.” she said, a small smile on her face.

James’s cheeks heated slightly and began moving away, an apology on his lips, but Cordelia held his hand and stopped him.

“Stay.”

“Alright.”

James breathed in deeply. He really liked her.

After a while she sat up and looked at him, gnawing at her lip, a habit he knew she did when she was nervous.

“Thank you, by the way.” she said.

“Why?” James asked with a small laugh.

“For everything Jamie. You’re always there for me, you don’t complain when I show up at your door like this,” she pointed at her face and chuckled. “I can’t imagine my life without you and..” she trailed off.

James smiled and grabbed her hands, holding them gently. “You’re never too much,” he whispered. “You’re like the buoy that keeps me afloat and stops me from going under.”

Cordelia looked at him now, her eyes shining. She took a deep breath.

“I love you James Herondale,”

James’s breath hitched. “What?” he asked, feeling giddy.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, more than a friend. You’re the first thought that pops into my head when I wake up, and the last thing to cross my mind before I sleep. You’re one of my closest friends and this is becoming increasingly awkward, please carry the conversation.” she finished in a rush, and James laughed.

“Is that how you really feel?” he said softly, heart racing.

“Yeah.”

“Daisy, Can I kiss you?”

One nod from her was all it took and James’s mouth was on hers, passionate and deep, and her hands wrapped around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. This was like everything he’d ever wanted, but so much better.

He broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you too.” he said, and Cordelia let out a happy giggle.

James had never felt more in love with her than in that moment, and he kissed her again.

A/N: This became way too fluffy and now I'm yearning ;-; I'm so sorry this got delayed anon! Anyways I hope you enjoyed! Lemme know what you thought and please like and reblog if you liked it! <3

taglist: @fortheloveofthecarstairs @writeforjordelia @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @themadhatter999 @ganseys-jane @arangiajoan @ghafa-dale @buttcrflys-rose (let me know if you would like to be added or removed via ask)

[plush-rabbit]

Bunny!Reader + Mr. Compress Headcanons

Request: hello there bunny! i've seen you've done rabbit quirk hcs for dabi and shiga in the past and i was wondering if you could do the same for mr compress? like a new member of the league having a rabbit quirk and all that mr compress is thinking about the first time he sees them is "bunny assistant" , and it doesn't help that he's getting a little enamored with them, always staying behind to watch their fluffy ears do a little bounce when they walk and the cottontail that he notices it wiggles when they get nervous so he knows when it's the time to cheer them up with a magic trick ~ just something cute about how he'd go about making them fall for him <3

A/N: bunny time bunny time bunny time bun-

When you’re first introduced to the team, Atsuhiro is hardly subtle about his interest in you. He may not have a romantic interest- he does find you cute, however- but he also thinks your quirk works rather well with him. Or rather, it compliments his showmanship personality. You’re plenty strong on your own- your quirk allowing you to have more than the physical attributes of rabbits, but also having some of the more useful tendencies such as a near 360 degree vision and having rather powerful nails and teeth. He’s quick to take your hand and show you around- just a way to make him seem more friendly than the others. He wants your trust- he knows how far that can go in this type of work.

It’s not uncommon for the two of you to go on missions together- or at least be in the same team. It’s easy to tell that he relies on you for the more physical fights seeing as he rather show off and leave the scene as quick as he can. Once the news outlets start to capture the two of you together, it hits a certain chord in him. You’re pictured beside him, your ears tense and face hidden behind a mask and in bold letters, you’re given the title of “assistant”. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted you to be his assistant- you fit well with the aesthetic even if he wasn’t dressed as a typical magician. But you aren’t just his assistant- you’re his partner in crime. You’re more than a simple assistant, you’re not the rabbit pulled out his hat- or marble in most cases- you’re the one who protects him when it calls for it, you’re the one who plays along with his idea of having you be his rabbit. Even when he throws away the paper, he can’t escape the fluttering feeling in his stomach at how he’s glad that the outside world realized how well you two fit together. He ends up pulling the crumpled piece of paper out of the bin and straightening out the image of you two.

Slowly, he starts to spend time with you outside of missions. You’ve always been close during missions since you had to be, but now, he seeks you out, asking if you’d like to practice a certain move that he or you might have stumbled on or even just sitting beside you and watching whatever is on the television. He grows to learn more about you- prying further until it’s late in the night and the board game between the two of you has been forgotten, his laughter infectious as he tells you a story of his past. He’s not exactly sure how you two have gotten so close- why he wants to be near you, or why he catches himself staring at you from time to time, or even why he’s suddenly so interested in you as more than just a partner.

Once you two start to do missions more out of wanting to, rather than necessary, he tries to take on a more protective role. He keeps you beside him- or at least in arm’s reach- and if you happen to move away from him, he rushes towards your side. There are a few places where he’s able to move around without having to worry about heroes or other authorities being called, and there is where he likes to take you. He likes to wander with you, letting you pick out whatever you want- sometimes even stealing if you don’t have enough- and will surprise you with it later. He’s sure that you know what he’s doing with the smile you give him, but you always hug him tight in your arms, and he isn’t going to complain about that.

He’ll realize with a moment of clarity, a small “oh” escaping his lips in a single breath, that he’s begun to see you as more than just a partner, but rather as something romantic. He found you attractive when you first arrived, that’s no lie, but he hadn’t thought of something romantic. Truth be told, he never expected something romantic once he became a criminal, he expected himself to be surrounded with those he considered close but never someone he considered a romantic partner. Because of these new feelings that have surfaced, he’s become a bit more. He’s seeking you out, wanting to spend more time with you than previously, even going as far as to insert himself in a conversation that didn’t include him.

Due to spending a large amount of time with you, he’s gotten to know you and your little quirks. He can tell when you’re starting to get nervous- the way your ears tense and how you always seem to hide your hands behind your back. He doesn’t understand why, until he happens to be standing behind you and he swears that he wasn’t trying to stare at your tail, but his eyes had landed there. It was easy to figure out from there that your tail twitches, while your ears stand firm. He tries to find a pattern as to why you suddenly grow so nervous around him or other members of the league and will eventually give up. He can’t prevent it, but he can help you relax afterwards. He’ll grab your hand and lead you to his room, and he offers to show you a magic trick- something simple and silly. He’s found that you lean when interested, your eyes wide and mouth slightly parted as he moves his hands, the object disappearing and reappearing behind your ear. You could call his laughter infectious, but yours is sweet, something akin to a melody that he doesn’t tire of hearing.

The hopeful part of him, maybe even the romantic part of him, likes to think that he’s the only one who’s gotten to know you. Your excitement is something that he can easily tell, the fidgeting that differs from you being nervous, the way you bounce on your heels and twitch your ears, as if adventure really is calling out to you. He once caught you doing a little dance in your room, your smile wide as you hopped in a circle and jumped up- pure energy that leaked out of you and infected your nature. You were so happy; and he wanted to see more of that. He isn’t proud to admit it, but he does lie to you. He’ll tell you that he needs a bit of help in order to do something, to pull off another trick or to practice a sleight of hands, and he’ll fail, miserably and falsely, but he just wants to spend time with you. Late into the night, as you both take deep breaths with sweat thin against your brow, you’ll lean towards him, the fluff of your ears brushing against his bare skin. He’s never felt something so soft, something that had a shiver run down his back and make his ears feel as if they are aflame.

As the friendship deepens between the two of you, the more personal you both become. He holds your hand more often, his gloved hand covering yours. While you have your fair moments of leaning towards him, he’s the one who’s more touch starved- he leans into you, his bicep pressed against yours and head tilted towards you as if you were the sun and he were nothing more than a flower crawling to be in your light. Past the more touch part of the relationship, he also gives you nicknames. He comes to you, a boyish smile on his face and hands holding one of yours, as he wonders if calling you “Cotton” would be a bit too much. More and more, “Cotton” switches to “Binky” to tease at your little jumps. Calling you “Binky” results in his arm getting playfully slapped, your eyes rolling as you threaten to eat his portion of food if he doesn’t be quiet.

In an attempt to make his feelings more apparent- and to stop the teasing from the other members- he becomes more and more present in your life. He wants you to see him more than just a partner-in-crime and an actual partner-in-crime. He brings you your favorite snacks, buying things that he knows you would like, and will often just show up unexpectedly at your door with a pocket full of marbles holding all things that you and him like. It’s tastical ploy on his end- showing up late and sharing snacks, having you grow tired and him playing the overdramatic close friend, leading him to spend the night in your bed. You two stuck strictly to your own sides, only for the nights to continue and the blanket to be stolen, for you to curl up to him, your ears twitch in your sleep and tickle at his nose. He does more and more for you, wanting to be close to you and letting you wear a mask of his when one of yours breaks. Later, he gifts you a mask- hand painted and made for you.

Waiting for you to get the hint is rather painful for the showman. While people may not have flaunted themselves towards him, they certainly did find him attractive and would at least show some romantic interest. Atsuhiro isn’t the impatient type, he can wait and play the long game, but he’s gotten so nervous around you. He racks his brain for the best way to confess to you- ditching flowers since he feels it might be a bit too ironic given his motif and yours. At the end of it, he stands before you, his hands held behind his back, as he confesses his feelings to you. He likes you- a lot. It stems further than just a simple crush, and into something more intense that leaves him aching for more, to want to spend more time with you. He stops midway, his words faltering to a whisper, as he frowns, realizing that perhaps he might have said too much. He starts to retract his words, wanting to dial it back, but the words have already been said and he only stares at you, his heart echoing in his ears and when you step close to him, he’s ready for rejection. When he feels your arms wrapped around him, your ears and tail twitching, he can hear your confession, your words muffled as you hold him tight. His smile is wide as he returns the hug, lifting you up and squeezing you tight, until you laugh and push at his shoulders.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Harry Potter falling in love with his muggle!friend... (headcanon)

Request: Can you do a "Harry falling in love with his muggle neighbour/friend" (Fem!Reader) headcanons please? <3 - anon

A/N: This is so fluffy and I love it very much. Thank you for requesting it, and I am so sorry for the wait!

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol, this is set post!war but it is so fluffy, kissing, pining, cuteness

You are his neighbour first and foremost.

The friendship started afterwards; after you had knocked on his door for the most cliche of reasons - you needed a cup of sugar. 

It had taken you a moment or two to work up the nerve to knock on Harry’s door for the simple fact that you have only seen him once or twice in the whole time he has been living in the building. 

Harry would be the first to admit that after the war, he preferred to be on his own. That way he didn't have to live up to the whole ‘hero’ stereotype.

Anyway, you needed a cup of sugar... to bake... not at all to spy on the neighbour you thought was somewhat attractive from the first time you clapped eyes on him. 

Harry opened the door; the beginnings of a beard and messy hair leading you to stutter through your question. 

Harry doesn't admit this to you until much later, but he rather enjoyed watching you stutter, finding it endearing, not realising the affect he had on people. 

In a stroke of genius on his part, Harry only offers the sugar if you bring him a taste of the finished product. 

Understanding the bribery, you laugh loudly, nodding and promising to bring him a taste of the cookies that were still needing sugar. 

It took a lot of effort to turn and walk away on your part, wanting to stay and talk more to the mysterious neighbour, but an excuse had been provided in the form of cookies, so you hurried back to your flat, finishing the mix and putting them in the over to cook. 

You found yourself knocking on Harry’s door, offering a small plate of cookies to him without saying a word.

“If you’re going to bring me more sweets, I’ll have to talk to you more.”

From there, a friendship formed between you both. 

Harry slowly came out of his shell; finding himself in your flat more than his own. He found that you brought laughter and light back into his life. Not that he hadn’t had that before, but you added more of it... all without having a lick of magic within you too. 

Harry had been shocked to discover you had no magic in you; everything about you screamed magical from the way you baked to the way you smiled at him when he caught you off guard. 

Harry realises he’s falling in love with early into the friendship, and to his surprise, he didn't lose his cool. He simply accepted it. 

The friendship he held so close to his heart never truly felt like a friendship anyway; it felt like it always teetering on the edge of becoming something more, but neither of you daring to whisper the very words that would send you both reeling. 

It comes to ahead only a few months after Harry’s initial realisation.

The both of you tipsy, but not drunk. There had been no real reason for drinking other than it being a Saturday with relatively good weather - a miracle in the UK at any time of year. 

The warmth of the day bringing out happier moods and leading to day drinking. 

Your face is flushed, as is Harry’s and without any real control over his mouth, Harry blurts out his feelings, confessing to you what he has felt for months. 

You follow with your own confession; blurting out how you feel the same, feel that the both of you were destined for more than friendship.

Something in Harry’s chest loosens at your words, relaxing his muscles and widening his smile.

He tugs you to him, dropping his head to kiss you but not before asking you. You answer by brushing your lips against his.

The both of you happy to have finally taken that jump off the edge together.

[wisdomofme]

Julie and the Phantoms Fic Recs

The JatP Fandom has gone above and beyond when it comes to good fics! I wanted to share with you guys a handful of my favourite ones that I think you might all enjoy (I won’t lie, most of them are Juke)

Don’t forget to comment and let the authors know exactly how much you love their amazing work!!

(all of these fics are on Ao3) ** most recently added

OneShots

a holy thing (to love what death has touched) by heartofwinterfell ** (Juke) (Soulmate AU) - Julie Molina’s words have been grey since the day she was born // I know we all love a good soulmate AU so here’s one that made me smile all the way through it!!

and i know i’ve kissed you before, but i didn’t do it right (can i try again?) by Ephemeral_Joy (Juke) (Modern AU)  - Luke and Julie break up, but if feels more like growing up // Look, LOOK. I know it’s hard to get past the angst of the break up but you gotta. Do it for me, do it for this 19k longshot, do it for YOURSELF. This is a masterpiece and you all better read it.

close my eyes and jump by HomebodyNobody  (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Julie and Luke talk and bask in the fact that handholding is now a possibility // Ultra fluffy cute! Immediately post season 1 Juke just loving the fact they can touch each other now.

favorite t-shirt by jellie_bean ** (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Luke drives Julie to distraction after their first real date // Luke writes Julie a song but it’s cute instead of sad for once and I loVE IT!!

Hallucinations by jatpfan ** (Family) (Post Season 1) - Ray starts seeing hallucinations of Julie’s band around the house. It’s weird // I loved this fic so much! I have a real soft spot for Ray so it was nice to see a fic in his perspective.

Here in Front of Me (Shining So Much Brighter than I Have Ever Seen) by 8ucky8arnes  (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Luke flirts with Julie while in class. It’s… distracting // I giggled my way through this entire fic! I could totally see this happening in the show if they really decided to pursue the Juke relationship. I mean, I can hope!!

i once believed love would be burnin’ red (but it’s golden, babe) by Ephemeral_Joy (Juke) (Post Season 1) - The boys try to figure out what their unfinished business is. It has consequences // A very soft fic that made me feel all the butterflies, if you like this one definitely check out the rest of Ephemeral_Joy’s fics!

I’m Scared of My Piano by emullz  (Juke) (Missing Scene) - Luke and Julie writing music together (between episodes 3 & 4) // Very adorable and made me WISH we had gotten this in the show! Absolutely adorable

Is it cool that I said all that? by smol_fangirl (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Julie can’t sleep but Luke helps // A super sweet fic that feels like being wrapped in the orbit of these two characters. Just a lot of small soft moments that kept making me smile.

i’ve had the time of my life by dearhappy (Friendship) (AU) - The ‘New Girl’ AU you didn’t know you needed but definitely DO! // If you know anything about New Girl then you know that the boys work perfectly as well… the boys. So funny and got me thinking of all my fave New Girl moments with the JatP crew.

Struck a Chord by Anonymous (Friendship) (Missing Scene/ Post Season 1) - Luke and Alex get into a fight. Reggie freaks out (Julie makes everything better) // A really bittersweet Reggie centric fic. Reading this made me hope for some amazing season 2 development for him.

try to change the ending (peter losing wendy). by lukesjulie (Juke) (Future Fic) - Julie falls in love with Luke but life moves on // OW! Like, real sad hours here guys. So, SO, worth the read but be ready for the rain before the rainbow.

unsaid julie by unsaidjulie (juggyjones)  (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Luke writes Julie a song about his feelings. It’s a process // Look, I won’t lie, this fic hurt me a little in ways I didn’t expect. But it was SO worth it. Pining Luke? Yes PLEASE!

we all got a second act inside of us by keep_swinging, rainstorm97 (Juke) (Post Season 1) - Luke’s curse doesn’t break // Seeing Luke in pain hurts but not as much as watching him try to cover it up. An amazing fic that I highly recommend.

MultiChap

A Lesson in Chemistry by Slytherin_Princess_Nysa ** (Juke) (Soulmate AU, Alive in 2020 AU) (Incomplete) - The first words Luke’s soulmate says to him are etched along his ribcage. He’s not too worried about finding out who they belong to // In this house WE STAN SOULMATE AU’s!! Get ready for some mutual pining here kids.

A Familiar Picture by captainkippen (Juke) (Alive in 2020 AU) (Complete) - a 5 + 1 of Julie realizing she loves Luke (and the 1 time she realized he loved her back) // I am such a SUCKER for these fics but REGGIE IS ALSO JULIE’S STEPBROTHER IN THIS?!?! Perfection. Literal Perfection.

Family Matters by morganoconner  (Family) (Post Season 1) (Complete) - Ray accidently adopts a few ghost kids // Okay, to start off with, Ray NEEDS more love and this fic GIVES IT. The best Ray focused fic I’ve seen (also technically has Willex and Juke but they aren’t the focus. Family is <3)

Feels like I’ve opened my eyes again by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK  (Juke) (Season 2 Speculation Fic) (Incomplete) - After everything that’s happened with Julie and her band, she’s tired. She doesn’t stop being tired // This fic is crazy good and has an INSANE update schedule (I have theories on where this may go and I hope they’re right!)

Give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around by smol_fangirl (Juke) (Missing Scene) (Complete) - Luke writes Julie an Unsaid Emily // This is one of the sweetest, saddest fics you will find. It takes place before the Orpheum and the FEELINGS that Luke has. This made me wish I could hug fictional characters. Now with a SECOND CHAPTER that RUINED ME even more!!!

Linger by apocalyvse, keep_swinging & rainstorm97 (Juke, Willex) (Season 2 Speculation Fic) (Incomplete) - Caleb vs Julie in (not) Ghost wars // The plot is so amazingly intriguing, every update gets me so excited!! (Julie with powers? JULIE WITH POWERS!)

Love Drunk by captainkippen ** (Juke) (Alive in 2020 AU) (Incomplete) - After a show (and a big night) in Las Vegas Luke and Julie accidently get hitched // Accidental marriage AU- ACCIDENTAL MARRIAGE AU! It’s here guys and it’s FILLED with funny/ sweet moments!

sweet dreams are made of this (who am i to disagree?) by juliemolina (nnegan13) (Juke) (Season 2 Speculation Fic) (Incomplete) - Julie and Luke share a dream after the events of season 1. It doesn’t bode well for Julie // The pure EMOTION in this fic gets me every time. Also, protective Luke is not something I knew I needed till I had it.

The Cheerleader Effect by Bluefire510 (Juke) (Post Season 1) (Incomplete) - Julie wears Luke’s clothes and it breaks his brain // This is like the quintessential Juke fic. Do you want fluff? Second hand embarrassment as Luke blue screens? Read it. 

Unfinished Business by captainkippen (Juke, Willex) (Alive in 2020 AU) (Incomplete) - Julie moves to a new school and meets ‘the boys’ // This fic has so much promise already and I can just FEEL how good it’s gonna get. I am DYING to watch the pining in real time.

Series

Julie the Vampire Slayer by pearlcaddy ** (Juke, Willex) (Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU) (Ongoing) - The adventure of Julie the Vampire Slayer, her ghost Watcher Luke and their Scooby Gang // This may be one of the best AU’s I have ever read. I didn’t think it could work but pearlcaddy does SO MUCH to bring it to life! You won’t regret reading this!

I have definitely missed a ton of amazing fics but I’ll do my best to update this list as I find more!

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Twenty ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1650

Warnings: None

A/n Hi! Sorry, I know I’m a day late -- I have family in town so I’m soaking up all the time with them that I can. This one is short (and a lil fluffy/angsty), and this chapter and the next are kind of a rest before we hit the next act of this story! Sooo gear up! I’m excited!!! 

I shut the door behind Orophin and Lavandil.

Cosima flops onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. “That was awful.”

I make a noise of general agreement. I hadn’t expected my brothers to take the news happily, but I didn’t think Rumil would completely shut me out. I have no doubts that he will eventually come around, but his reaction is still distressing.

Cosima raises up on her forearms, looking at me in concern. “Are you okay?”

I nod, making my way towards her bed. “It may take some time, but I know my brothers. All will be well.”

She scoots from the middle to the far side of her bed and pats the space next to her. I accept the invitation, lying on my back at her side. Vaguely, I notice that her bed is much larger and comfier than mine. I turn to tease her about it, try and cheer us both up, but she’s fiddling with her fingers. I guess neither of us is feeling particularly lighthearted at the moment.

“What is it?”

She sighs, staring up at the ceiling rather than at me. I nudge her arm gently, trying to prompt an answer.

She bites her lip. “You’ve said that you can make your own choices, and I get that, but I’ve got to ask—are you sure? You don’t have to stay with me just because you said you wanted to. I know what you’re sacrificing, and you don’t have to—”

I cut her off, kissing her forcefully. She sucks in a breath and I use that to my advantage, drawing her deeper into the kiss. She recovers from her shock quickly though, and slides a hand up my chest in that way I adore and is slowly becoming familiar. I pull away but keep a firm hold on the side of her face. “Please push these thoughts from your mind. Whatever the future holds, I am in it with you. And a future without you? I don’t want it. It would be different, had I never met you, but the Valar blessed me. They brought an impossible woman into my life. And I have no intention of letting her go.”

The sadness in her eyes breaks, replaced with a look of tenderness that I work hard to memorize. I let the hand on the side of her face slide to rest on her hip.

She places a kiss on my jaw, taking her time to respond, aware that she has my complete attention. “If I had to wake up in a different world with no memories, I am immensely glad you were there. Being with you is worth all that I’ve left behind. Even if I did remember it, I would choose you.”

I exhale slowly, basking in her words. I’ve never been vulnerable with someone before — bearing my heart and hoping they don’t crush it — and every time I open my mouth to confess something to Cosima, there’s the fear that she will shut me down, that she won’t return my feelings. But her words just now, as well as her actions from the past few days, help allay my fears.

“It’s getting late,” she breathes, face mere inches from mine. “You could stay the night?”

My hand on her hip tenses. No, I remind myself. I should go back to my room. But the words that come out of my mouth are not what I told myself to say. “I would not be intruding?”

“No,” Cosima smiles, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I would very much like it if you stayed.”

We are both adults. If she wants me to stay and I want me to stay, then there’s no reason to leave. “Then stay, I shall,” I murmur, dropping my lips to press against hers.

She kisses me languidly for a while before her lips shift into a grin. I pull back with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re the one who has to get up and blow out the candles,” she declares, her tone full of mirth. “That’s really the only reason I asked you to stay.”

I snort, but push myself off the bed, headed for the first candle I see. “I knew it couldn’t be because you love me. That’s too easy.”

“And pull the curtains,” she adds, lifting the duvet so she can crawl underneath it. I watch her slide her eyes shut, smile still spread over her face as she tries not to laugh.

Cosima and I have slept in each other’s company before, and we will do so again for the three weeks of our journey to Lothlórien. But I can’t shake the feeling that this is completely different. It will be the two of us alone, in a bedroom, when we have acknowledged our feelings for each other.

But despite the nerves and the gravity of the situation, it feels completely natural to spend the night with Cosima. I long for her presence during the day, and the night is no different.

And with precious little time together, shouldn’t I seize on every moment?

I blow out the candle nearest to me. It darkens the shadows in the room. I extinguish the remaining candles, close the curtains, and then return to the bed. Cosima has thrown the covers back on what I suppose is my side, making it easy for me to climb in next to her. After the slightest moment of hesitation, I do so. I reach for her, wrap my arms around her and cross them over her stomach, then pull her against my chest. It reminds me of a variation on what I did our very first day of training, an action that caused me no small amount of distress. But now it seems there is no limit to the ways I can hold her, and I plan to explore them all.

Cosima chuckles, evidently pleased with this development. “You remembered the human way.”

“I am capable of adapting,” I respond, dropping my face into her neck.

Her laugh turns into a sigh when I begin a trail of kisses there. “I have a question.”

I hum, continuing my pattern. “Yes, my love?”

She pauses to beam at the phrase. When she speaks, the smile is still in her voice. “Rumil asked if we had bonded yet, and then when you said no, he said there’s still ‘time’. What did he mean by that?”

My lips freeze against her neck. I sigh, shifting to lie on my side and pressing on her shoulder so she’ll turn to face me. I figured we would need to have this conversation at some point, but I hadn’t counted on now. And it’s not the potential for awkwardness that makes me wish I could keep my mouth shut — no, we could get past that — it’s the fear that, once she knows there’s still technically a step we have to take in order for my soul to perish once hers leaves me, that she will end this.

But it is not right to withhold information from her so, with another deep breath, I explain. “He was talking about the bonding of the fæs — in the literal sense. But I love you, I am committed to you, and nothing can change that, so Rumil’s whole notion of ‘time’ doesn’t really apply here.”

Her eyes narrow as she zeroes in on exactly what I’m careening around. “Say there’s some wiggle room.”

“There’s not.”

“But if there were,” she presses, obviously not interested in letting this go.

I sigh. “Traditionally, elves have used sex as a way to facilitate the spiritual bonding of the fæs. That’s what constitutes an elven wedding — that’s what represents and solidifies the commitment. Since we have not had sex, Rumil thinks our fæs are not bonded, so there is time to break the commitment between us without it affecting me.”

She sits up, opening her mouth to comment.

I hurry to sit up as well and cut off her words before she can take this idea and run with it. “But our situation is different. The whole concept of the fæs bonding is not a blanket statement that covers every relationship — there is a lot of choice involved, we are not without agency. And I have chosen.”

She smiles somewhat sadly, letting her fingers drum over my knee. “I wish I was an easier choice.”

I catch her hand in mine. “I quite like where my choices have led me.”

She leans against me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “I love you.” She shifts, lying down and tugging on my arm to pull me with her. “Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

I stretch out behind her, then twist the strands of her hair through my fingers. She’s silent, and I worry that, despite my efforts to reassure her, she’s still sad. I know she can’t help it, but I wish that we could leave all this struggle and moroseness behind. In my view, the future is set, my path is clear. Struggling over what that means will not halt the end, nor change it, so we shouldn’t waste time worrying over it. We should prepare how we can and then enjoy our lives together.

Cosima tucks her head into my neck and tangles one of her legs through mine. The action — so unexpected yet so natural — gives me hope that, soon, she and I can fall into a life together. Maybe Lothlórien is the key. Maybe once she can clearly see what our future looks like — a home, friendships, family, meals together at the end of a long day, exploring Lothlórien’s extensive forests and blue-green lakes, festivals, sunrises, all the wonderful things about my home, our home, she can allow herself to be happy.

And I will do everything I can to help her get there.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always so appreciated! Also, I think I made EVERYONE sad with that last chapter, I’m so sorry. But I LOVE that we all collectively love Rumil and want him to be happy forever, right? Soooo, c’mon, hit me with some happy Rumil headcannons <3

|next chapter|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande 

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows

*Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(*

[liquorisce]

High School Years, Ch 3: aftermath.

pairing: eren x mikasa (SnK)

rating: M. (nsfw)

Summary: for eren and mikasa, love was easy; they'd loved each other forever. but physical attraction? that's a whole other story.

read on ao3 | chap 2 | chap 1

The morning after the… “confrontation”, when they walk to school, they hold hands. It's a new dimension of their ‘relationship’, and the thought of calling it that, of calling Eren her ‘boyfriend,’ is something that makes her feel so many things.

“So um,” she begins, squeezing his hand a little bit, soft pink dusting her cheeks, as he turns to look at her questioningly. “... Are we going to tell the gang?”

For the briefest moment he looks confused, but when he sees her shy expression, not spelling it out because she doesn’t know how to say it yet, his eyes widen in understanding. “Ah that you and I...,” he colours, just a little bit, because it wasn’t until the words were literally at the tip of his tongue, that he realizes he doesn’t know how to say it either.

She’d said it last night, called him her boyfriend, and it did things to him, making his heart constrict with a nervous kind of excitement. Because he was Mikasa’s boyfriend, and that was something of an honour.

But another part of him, the part that recognizes what it means for a high school kid, just finds it completely lacking, he doesn’t want to announce that he’s ‘dating’ Mikasa Ackerman, the word simply does not do it justice. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to hear her name in the gossip rings, from the mouths of shallow, boring girls who have little better to do than keep track of their high school reality show or from the dirty whispers of teenage boys who can’t control their hormones (if Eren is one of them, he doesn’t acknowledge it).

“... Maybe we could just keep it quiet? Just for a little while…” He watches her expressions searchingly, and she does that thing that she does, hides into her bangs when she doesn’t want him to see what she’s thinking and he panics, just a little.

“Hey, listen,” he stops her by the wrist, before they round the corner onto the street of their school.  “... It’s not that I want to hide it,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers, because god forbid she thinks he’s embarrassed or ashamed or anything short of absolutely ecstatic, “You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes and she lets the waves of insecurity pass her by. Surely, there was nothing more to worry about. He’d made no secret of the depth of his feelings last night. “Mm-hmm.” She feels his minty breath cool on her lower lip and she reaches up to press her mouth against his. It’s tentative, the way she does it, reserved and shy but completely incomparable. It’s like everything she does, he thinks breathlessly, as he deepens the kiss. There’s no one like her.

She threads her hands into his already messed up hair, breathing harshly as she breaks away from his kiss. “I don’t mind,” she agrees, “... I think I’d like it to be just between us for a while…”

And because he’s so grateful that he’s in love with his best damn friend, who knows him and understands him like nobody else, he kisses her again… just because he can.

…

They know. He doesn’t know how they know, but they fucking know, and he mutters unhappily under his breath, “... fucking vultures, the whole lot of them.”

Armin smirks, not unsympathetically. They’d mutually decided to tell him (rather, he spotted them holding hands, and he’d almost cried in happiness), even though Eren had been somewhat sour about it, sulking when Mikasa had pointed out that they obviously needed to tell Armin. Eren was a brat, and a jealous one, especially where Mikasa was concerned, so despite having ample proof by now that the kiss between Armin and her had meant nothing, it remained a sore topic for him.

“Isn’t it easier this way? At least now you won’t have to stare down all the boys queuing up to ask for her number in the cafeteria.”

“... That’s not the point,” Eren sulks, even though he knows Armin has a point (he always does), the phenomenon he’d described was a canonical and frequent event that he actively loathes, because Mikasa was quite free with her personal details that way.

( It’s high school, Eren , she’d told him exasperatedly one day when he’d actually brought it up to her, if I don’t give them my number they’ll get it from someone else anyway. Besides, the block functionality is quite useful .)

Somehow Eren is fairly certain that knowing she was in a relationship wouldn’t be enough to deter potential suitors (/ fanboys) and as they walk towards their class, he spots the best example of this crass behaviour in none other than his horse faced friend chatting up his girlfriend, who seemed to be fairly liberal with her smiles.

Armin watches the scene from right next to him and snorts, barely able to contain his laughter. “... You’re so transparent, Eren.”

“Clearly the news hasn’t reached everyone,” he clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from the beauty and the beast, trying his best to remain civil and not scare his girlfriend away in less than 24 hours of them being, you know, together .

“This is what you wanted,” Armin reminds him, clapping his shoulder sportingly, barely able to contain his grin.

…

She tugs nervously at her hair, feeling ridiculously exposed despite the fluffy maroon scarf around her neck. She hadn’t been prepared for the events of yesterday, be it the emotional confession, or the heated kisses, or the possessive nips at her neck.

She certainly wasn’t prepared for the self consciousness that came with the marks he left on her, and had absolutely no knowledge of the make up skills required to cover it. (It hadn’t helped that it had taken Armin less than two minutes to spot the hickeys.)

But what she was least prepared for, is how almost everyone seemed to know, without her even having to open her mouth, and how they all seemed to have an opinion.

… Aw, but I was really counting on him getting back together with Krista… they were so cute…

… I wonder how long he’ll stay with this one…

… wait, Mikasa Ackerman? Aren’t they like practically siblings or something? Ewwww~

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to gag, or if she wanted to hide… or both.

She doesn’t hide. Because Mikasa Ackerman is a class act and despite feeling completely torn up listening to bitchy people talk about her like she does not possess hearing, she goes through the day looking outwardly untouchable.

But after trudging through the entire day of listening to absolute bullshit rumours and whispering, she’s pretty sure she feels a migraine incoming. Groaning to herself, as she takes out her notebook from her locker, she finds herself face to face with a chirpy voice that she once hated.

“... Hey,” Krista says, with a small smile. “... rough day, huh.”

Mikasa nods, it’s not that she dislikes the cute blonde in front of her (not too much, anyway), it’s just that today was not the day she wants to be visually reminded of her existence. Because watching her, in her white miniskirt and pink sweater, perfect blonde hair and her perfect smile, is reminiscent of all the days she hid in her room with only her insecurity for company.

“So um,” Krista begins, because Mikasa can be comfortable in her silence, just looking at Krista questioningly. “... Everyone’s talking about it, basically,” she blurts out, unable to help herself.

“And if you want to know whom to smack, it’s Hitch, because she says she saw you guys holding hands outside school and making out, and she snapchatted it to the whole world, because that’s what she does and,” - Mikasa’s eyes narrow and Krista takes a deep breath.

“Look, I just wanted to reach out, and you know,” she clears her throat, like it was obvious what she was doing here. Mikasa just looks blank, feels blank. “... Like, I don’t want it to be awkward or anything, between us,” Mikasa is genuinely confused at this point, because there didn’t have to be an us, between her and Krista, their social circles were comfortably distant enough to have as minimal interaction as possible. “... You seem like a great person, and honestly, I’m not even surprised you guys ended up together. It was just a matter of time, I guess.”

She smiles earnestly as she says this, and Mikasa finds herself liking the short blonde despite herself, and offers a smile back. “... Thanks, that’s sweet of you.”

“And um,” Krista offers, completely casually, “... I could lend you some concealer if you wanna… you know, cover that up.”

…

“Snapchat!” Sasha wails theatrically, “... I can’t believe this is what our friendship has boiled down to.”

Mikasa has the grace to look guilty. “Explain to me, bestie ,” Sasha can be quite scary when she has her manic face on, “why, I had to receive a snap from the school’s number one hoe, informing me of the fact that my best friend had finally hooked up with her absolute thirst trap of a roommate.”

She doesn’t have much to say to defend herself, she simply slinks lower into her seat. “... I’ll buy you lunch for a week,” Mikasa whispers, defeated.

“Oh you better,” Sasha declares, still fuming. “... Snapchat, are you fucking kidding me…” She turns around once more, sizing Mikasa up deliberately. “... What about that time I walked in on you guys, in the kitchen, and he didn’t have a shirt on?” Sasha narrows her eyes accusingly. “... Were you two already…? Did you lie to me back then?”

“No! God, no,” Mikasa vaguely wonders why she sounds so defensive and apologetic about her own love life, but she remembers that Sasha is upset and for what it’s worth, she loves her like a sister, so she says, “... I swear, there was nothing between us then. It only happened, like… last night.”

Mikasa blushes as she says it, and the twinkle returns to Sasha’s brown eyes. “You must tell me everything,” she commands, and despite her sighing and blushing and giggling, Mikasa does exactly that.

...

He waits for her as they walk back from school. This is new too. Well not entirely, they’d walk back together, the three of them, Him, Mikasa and Armin, everyday in middle school, but high school had brought them different routines, and a distance that he was happy to get rid of.

“So…” he says as he slips his fingers between hers. “So much for our plan to keep it quiet.”

She burrows her head into his arm, “... everyone knew. Literally everyone.” After a minute, she adds reproachfully, “The hickeys you left on my neck didn’t help, either.”

He grins despite the glare she gives him. Embarrassing or not, he didn’t regret it one bit, not the moments that led up to those anyway... the way she’d found herself on his lap, fitting so perfectly in his arms, and against his mouth. The way she’d gasped when he’d let himself explore the sensitive skin on her neck.

He understands her situation, but god, there was no way he’d apologize for the sheer sensation he’d felt in that moment.

Tugging at her scarf to see his own handiwork, he can’t help his disappointment when he sees only a faint outline of them on her pretty skin. “... I see you’ve covered them up.”

“Ah,” Mikasa grins, “... that was your ex, actually.”

She feels him still, letting go of her hand for a brief moment. “... What?” Eren blinks nervously. They don’t really talk about his ex, not much more than they did yesterday anyway, and he wishes they’d never have to, not now that he knows perfectly well how much it had hurt Mikasa.

“You… um, spoke to her today?”

Mikasa nods, “... She came by to say hello, yeah.” And because Eren looks extremely uncomfortable at the thought, she giggles and tells him, “She says she didn’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Eren groans, “... this sounds like the teaser to every high school drama ever.” But despite his sarcasm, he was worried because despite Mikasa’s unassuming popularity in school, she lived her life outside of the cliques, the gossip rings, the drama… and Krista, sweet that she was, was somehow always in the thick of it.

“Don’t worry,” Mikasa says sweetly, “... if you want me to tell you that we had a catfight over you, prepare for disappointment.��

He grins in relief and asks, “... Is it so wrong to indulge in the fantasy of you fighting with another girl over me?” And because he can’t help himself, he adds, “You’d win for sure, Mikasa.”

…

As long as she can remember, Mikasa had been in love with Eren. It wasn’t complicated, or confusing for her, she’d loved him and she’d always known it.

When she was younger she had less trouble expressing it, they played together all the time, and she shared her toys with him, her sweets, and promised his mom she would take care of him when he got into trouble.

During her darkest days (after losing her parents), he would look after her, keep an eye out for her, tuck her in sometimes and sleep by her side when she had nightmares. Back then it was easier to ask for his attention - Eren could you stay with me, she remembers her 12 year old self asking, sniffling in the night, with no inhibitions, just a young girl asking for comfort from the boy she shared everything with.

(He’d given her everything she asked for graciously, fussing over her in his own way, watching over her even when she didn’t notice.)

It’s the ‘how’ that increased in complexity, the way she wanted more and more as the years went by, until the point where her love for him was a complete stranger. It was frustrating when she first realized it, when she realized she looked at him more often than usual… when she realized she wanted him to look at her too.

Growing up they’d watch movies together, and she’d often wonder about the way the hero kissed the heroine at the end of the movie, and wondered if someday Eren would kiss her like that. Most of all she wondered if Eren thought about it too.

When he started dating, that became amply clear to her - he thought of kissing, and to her unfortunate attention, it became clear that he thought of much more too. Those months were incredibly difficult for Mikasa because not only did she have to go through life like nothing had changed - ostensibly nothing had, not between them - but she had to police every indiscrete thought when he walked around after his shower without a shirt on, she had to control her gaze every time it fell on his beautiful mouth, wondering exactly what it would feel like against hers.

And for the first time in the longest time, Mikasa could no longer love Eren the way she always had, openly and without shame, she could no longer ask of him his care and attention.

But it feels like overnight so much has changed, she can barely comprehend it. Eren is so generous with his attention (his love), she wonders if the last couple of years of distance was the doing of her own imagination.

He is so free with his touches, sometimes gentle on her waist, sometimes tender on her face, sometimes rough in her hair (this excites her most of all). She no longer has to wonder if he’d ever kiss her like in the movies, he kisses whenever he damn pleases, and it always, always takes her by surprise. And it is so much better than she has ever imagined.

…

He saunters in as she prepares the tofu carefully, and because Mikasa is a perfectionist in everything she does, she’s concentrating completely on flipping each piece at the perfect moment when they turn golden brown.

But because Eren finds literally everything she does impossibly cute, he wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her gleefully on the cheek. It has the desired effect, she gasps, dropping her fork, and he catches her in an open mouthed kiss.

He manages to distract her for a good couple of minutes until she smells the tofu becoming decidedly darker than golden brown. “Erennn,” she whines, “... my tofu is ruined!”

“I’m sure it’ll taste wonderful,” he says because she’s an excellent cook, but also because he’s slightly affronted that by the way she pulls away in complaint.

“Please. Go sit,” she swats him away, making him pout adorably. He does as he is told and waits till she plates the food minutes later, and he’s pleased to say that he was absolutely right, it did taste wonderful.

But he’s more eager to eat up as soon as possible and finish what he tried to start a few moments ago.

“What are you going to do after dinner?” The answer he wants to hear is I’d like to make out with my boyfriend , but just as he expected, Mikasa’s mind is on a slightly different wavelength.

“... Hmm,” she eyes him suspiciously, “... I guess I’ll finish cleaning up and read the latest chapter in English Lit before bed, and just drift off to sleep. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he states innocently. “... I’ll help you clean up.”

He changes the topic before they have a chance to linger, and does good on his promise to clean up as fast as he can. It’s ridiculous the way he’s acting, and he doesn’t understand it himself, but he can’t seem to help himself. He can’t seem to stop looking at her, can’t seem to stop craving her, whether it’s the closeness of her body or the taste of her lips, and he’s pretty certain the way he’s acting right now is downright embarrassing, but somehow since its with Mikasa, he feels emboldened.

Or at least that’s how he’d felt until recently. Of late there’s been just the slightest amount of doubt that’s crept in. He finds himself wondering if it’s just him who feels this way, this inexplicable urge, and he wishes that she’d be the one reaching for him more often.

“Thanks, Eren,” she murmurs, breaking him out of his intense internal monologue, when she reaches over and brushes a chaste kiss on his cheek. It warms him instantly, immediately making him want more.

He dries up and follows her out of the kitchen, and as she turns into her room, he grabs her wrist and says, “... Mikasa, wait,” and when she flips her head to look at him, he nestles her against the wall and whispers, “... I just wanted to say goodnight,” before kissing her full on the mouth.

For all that he internally complains about her not initiating their kisses enough, she responds beautifully to him, opening her mouth to him, and slipping her tongue inside, gasping when his fingers slip under her shirt, brushing softly above her ribcage. She slides one hand around his neck and the other clutches his shirt, pulling him so close to her, he revels in the feeling of her body pressed against hers.

He doesn’t even know how, or why, because he isn’t thinking when he’s kissing Mikasa, just going with it, running on the sheer feeling of it all, because he just gives into her - but she’s got both arms around his neck and he’s pressing her so firmly against the wall, tongue shameless in its exploration of her mouth, he slips one of his legs between hers.

She likes it, likes the pressure between her legs and she finds herself moving against him, grinding almost, embarrassingly, and she doesn’t even register consciously, until she feels him hard and pressed up against her thigh. She makes an embarrassing noise, something between a gasp and a moan, and suddenly his eyes snap open, all too conscious of their position.

She feels him twitch against her, and she can barely breathe with the excitement of it all, the newness… the feeling. He looks at her like a different person, green eyes heady and searching, holding her in a heated gaze. But in the most crushingly confusing move, he steps back and whispers “good night,” before turning towards his own room.

Quite frankly, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Any more of that and she would’ve melted into jelly all over the leg that was between her thighs. And instead of pursuing that intense, boneless feeling, she finds herself catching her breath alone in the hallway with a confoundingly novel ache between her legs.

…

He watches her at the tennis court the next day; he drags Armin with him.

He’s never cared much for the game itself, only knows the basic rules because Mikasa’s been playing for years. She has a practice match today, against Jean, and he’d claimed he’d only wanted to see ‘his girl’ crush that horse face to the ground.

But the more he sits next to Eren, the more Armin feels decidedly uncomfortable. “Oi, Eren,” he says, when he’s fairly certain he’s had enough. Eren looks at him annoyed for being distracted from the game. “... What?”

Armin pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking, because how does he say this politely? “... You’re staring.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t huh me! You’re literally ogling her,” he hisses under his breath, “... it’s embarrassing, so please stop.”

He feels his face burn as he splutters, “I, I’m just watching the-,” he’s quite literally red by this point, “... Armin, what the fuck?” He just wants to hide, and so he hides his face in his hands.

He was right, he was staring, and he knew this because his mind had memorized the way she looked in that outfit, white tank top low cut and body hugging and giving him an excellent view as she moved. And he didn’t even want to comment on the way those shorts hugged her curves and how it flowed perfectly into her long, glorious legs.

If he could kick himself he would.

“What’s going on with you?” Armin asks, after he gives Eren a moment to recover from absolute mortification. Hesitating, he says, “... This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you staring at her like this recently.”

He looks at Armin helplessly, because he doesn’t know how to put it into words. “You can talk to me,” Armin coaxes him, “... you do embarrassing shit in front of me all the time anyway,” he supplies helpfully.

There’s conflict in his green eyes as he considers just how to say it, if he wants to at all. He’s still not a hundred per cent over the fact that Armin was Mikasa’s first kiss and if anyone could hold a (pointless) grudge it was Eren.

“However if you still choose to not talk to me about Mikasa because you are hung up over a stupid drunk kiss, then that’s completely fine with me too,” Armin says, reading Eren’s mind cheerfully.

“... You didn’t have to bring it up,” he says sullenly. Armin rolls his eyes. “... You’re thinking about it anyway, so I might as well talk about it.” He’s known him far too long to not understand the very simplistic nature of Eren’s thought processes.

“... I can’t stop looking at her,” he confesses, deciding to gloss over the discomfort of their kiss and focus on the main problem instead. “I hadn’t noticed,” Armin quips dryly, and Eren glares at him - so much for ‘ You can talk to me, Eren.’

“I’m losing my mind here, Armin,” trust Eren to always be dramatic, without fail, “... You can make fun of me all you want, but everytime I look at her, I,” he inhales sharply. “... God, I feel disgusting. It’s Mikasa for fuck’s sake.”

And It’s Mikasa whom his friend had always been slightly unhinged for, but Armin thinks better of saying this.

“... I feel like I just don't know how to look at her respectfully anymore,” and he says

this almost choked, so distressed, that Armin tries very very hard to suppress a laugh.

…

She wishes she hadn’t done it.

In a rare moment of weakness that she now regrets, she had given into Sasha’s ever curious inquisitions into her love life. And by love life here, Sasha was explicitly digging for the good stuff.

“Eh?!?”

Mikasa waits patiently for Sasha to return from her high pitched look of disbelief.

“... What do you mean you haven’t slept together yet?” Sasha asks, a bit calmer this time, but still urgently distressed about the matter.

“We just… haven’t,” Mikasa explains rather unsatisfyingly.

“So… do you like, want to wait or something? I thought you’ve been in love with him since forever…”

No matter how much she’s accepted that fact herself, it still makes her blush when she hears it out loud. “... It’s not like, I want to, um, wait or anything,” she confesses. Because she’s found herself thinking of the same thing every night since the time Eren had her against the wall, pinned against him and his hardness. It’s almost like it created a monster out of her, a monstrous desire that has her eyeing him out the corner of her eye whenever she gets the chance. It makes her seek him out more often, seek him out after his workout, after his shower, innocently, by accident of course, and she’s ashamed of herself.

“... You just need to jump him,” Sasha says, with the utmost seriousness. Like she knew anything at all on this subject. “And boy have I got the perfect thing to help you.”

…

Mikasa Ackerman is a huge fan of Marie Kondo. It was one of the curiously annoying yet cute things about her that Eren has an impressively large list of.

She’s watched the Netflix show more times than he can count, follows her on Youtube, and once he’d seen her pray to her room or some shit before she started cleaning. It mystifies him, and he doesn’t care enough to understand more so he just goes along with it.

Today she’s decided she has way too many clothes and she will only keep what “sparks joy” in her, so she’s strewn out her entire closet and demanded in the sweetest way that he helps her with her mission.

(She throws in the offer of trying out all her outfits before she throws them out, and Eren is horny for a fashion show or the moments in between so he readily agrees)

“... I’m not sure about this one,” she says, eyeing herself in the green dress critically.

Eren’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “... You’re kidding, you look like a fucking goddess, Mikasa.”

She blushes happily with the compliment, but Eren isn’t exaggerating. It’s a slinky strapless number which was incredibly short. And it had a slit. According to Eren, the slit could not be emphasized enough.

“... Your legs look incredible,” he says, providing her the only decent compliment he can muster. The rest he does his best to convey with eyes.

“... It just doesn’t feel like something I wear usually, you know… so I don’t know if it sparks joy...”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, “Well, you should wear it. C’mere let me help you spark some joy,” he says, playfully pulling her down into the pile of clothes that made a poofy bed on the floor.

She giggles, settling over him happily, and for a moment his sappy little heart feels like it’s going to explode. He’s pretty sure her giggle is his most favourite sound in the whole world.

“... You’re insane,” he breathes, relishing in the way she feels on top of him, his hands sliding up her legs and resting just beneath the hem of her dress (just beneath her ass). She kisses him sweetly, tongue flicking gently on his lip and making him groan softly. His hands brush past her ass, caressing ever so softly as they come to rest on the small of her back.

She deepens the kiss, and he grabs her hips roughly, angling her mouth onto his in a way that suits him, gives him access and he sighs into her mouth. The view of her on top of him, is unparalleled, her thighs around his hips and her chest heaving temptingly with her harsh breathing. He closes his eyes and captures her mouth again before he makes a fool of himself in front of her again.

But she has her hands in his hair, and she’s pressing down, grinding down against his crotch, and he can feel himself pulse at every brush of contact, and he groans knowing fully well that there’s no way she can’t feel his length brush against her legs.

He doesn’t want to stop, or run away, because he’s ridiculously turned on at this point, and unwilling to let go of her, so he simply turns her around and pins her beneath him, taking advantage of the way she squeals, to slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her.

It’s so tempting having her beneath him like this, so he gives in and slips his leg between hers again, eager to have her rub against him like she did that day, with the faintest hint of a moan, like he hasn’t been able to forget.

His fingers entwine with hers and he stretches them above her head, wanting so much to just kiss her senseless, but they collide with a cardboard box and he spares a glance at it, in annoyance.

Until he squints and actually sees what it is. The label alone makes him blush, not to mention the contents that he could clearly see under the transparent plastic covering.

Mikasa looks up, dazed and a little bit disoriented from what was possibly the most intense make out session she had ever experienced. “... Eren?”

“Babe,” he rasps, choked, “... are you trying to tell me something?”

She follows his line of sight, and wants to hide, wants to die, wants to erase this moment from her very existence.

Her Sensual Pleasure kit, he reads, his mind effectively going numb as he comprehends the contents: a vibrator, a blindfold, some pink fuzzy handcuffs and what looks like a generous bottle of lube.

Somehow even though she forgot about this ridiculous thing, having stuffed it into her closet to forget all about the ridiculousness on her friend’s face when she gave it to her, it seems to have stumbled out into the light of day at the worst possible moment.

If she could murder Sasha and get away with it, she would.

“... I-It’s not what you think, Eren,” she mumbles, cheeks red and panicking, even though she has absolutely no idea what she wants him to think.

“I assure you,” he manages, “... I’m not really thinking right now, Mikasa.” Sure enough his mind had somewhat short circuited, barely able to handle the pressure of having his extremely sexy girlfriend beneath him and somehow simultaneously having discovered what appeared to be her sextoys .

Gingerly, he reaches for it, and he almost gasps, because the box had been opened and fiddled with. “Did you actually…”

He looks at her face, and it’s the colour of a tomato by this point, teeth biting her lower lip nervously, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or if he is even more turned on.

“The vibrator, Mikasa, did you…?” His voice is so hoarse just imagining, it superseded any fantasies he’s had up until this point. “... Eren,” she whines, embarrassed, hiding her face in her hands.

“Please for the love of god, Mikasa, please just tell me, baby,” he’s pleading because he really needs to know at this point. He needs to know if he’s been going to bed in the room besides her without the potent knowledge that she’s been using this to relieve herself at night.

When she nods, just ever so imperceptibly, he’s pretty sure he’s going to combust. “... What did you think of when you were using it?” His voice sounds like a stranger’s.

She looks conflicted, looks unbelievably embarrassed, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining it when he hears the faintest whisper from her saying, “... you.”

But that isn’t going to cut it, because he’s spent countless nights with a raging boner and raging guilt, as he jerked off to the most tantalizing moments he’s had with her… and he barely ever manages to look her in the eye the next morning. So he has to, no, he needs to know that he hasn’t been the only one in this absolutely ridiculous situation.

He kisses her hard, teeth grazing hers, mouth eager and greedy, and she responds to him with equal fervour. His head drops to her shoulder as he kisses her bare collarbone. “... If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you, you wouldn’t be able to look at me the same again.”

His words are a deep, throaty confession that he whispers on her skin, and it brings a tingle down to her spine and all the way to her toes. She thrusts her chest upwards against him subconsciously.

“... I think of you too, you know… all the time,” she confesses, forgetting the very meaning of inhibition. It’s hard to remember it when he looks at her that way, heat burning from his verdant eyes, his grip firm against her hips. She doesn’t want to; doesn’t need it, if it means she can be this close to him.

“... Do you think you can show me?” he whispers, barely thinking through his requests through his lust-filled haze.

He sees her hesitating, contemplating, and he finds himself praying as his fingers inch up the dress and dig into the curves of her ass, lips delicate against the tops of her breasts.

“Only if you show me how you touch yourself,” she murmurs, and he can feel himself twitch in excitement.

She backs up against her bedpost and slips out of her panties, and Eren is absolutely, positively certain, he has never seen anything more appealing than when she slowly, deliberately, hikes up that beautiful green dress and spreads her legs.

He’s so lost in the sight before him, he forgets what he’s promised until she says, steel eyes determined, challenging him almost, “... your turn, Eren.”

He shucks his pants off gracelessly, he couldn’t make it look as artful as she does even if he tried, but he’s happy to be free of the restrictive material as he springs heavy and erect at the sight of her. “... Could you um, pass me the lube,” he asks, and she does, but not before squeezing some onto her own hand.

It’s hypnotic how she rubs it into herself, wet, and pretty and pink, and he jerks into his hand, slick and wanting, as he whispers, “... God, you’re beautiful.”

His words only serve to enhance the needy pressure between her legs, the tingling feeling that her slow circular motions were only making worse. She picks up the vibrator and turns it on, pressing it to her nub, the way she’s done a few lonely nights by herself, wishing it was him against her skin.

It’s different this time, because even though it’s her and the silicone toy, Eren’s gaze is like liquid fire on her skin, dark and licentious, and almost greedy. She throws her head back, shivering with pleasure and gasping.

“... What did you think of when you played with yourself?” He asks again, and this time she knows he wants a more specific answer.

“Your fingers,” she mumbles, and she finds the pleasure makes her startlingly more honest. He could ask anything of her, and she would tell him.

The idea, the thought of it, makes him twitch happily in his hand, and he jerks erratically, feeling an unbelievable urge come over him. “... Did you get wet thinking of my fingers on you, Mikasa?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, blushing prettily, high off the vibrating sensations. Without planning to, he crawls over between her legs and kisses her deeply, murmuring on her lips, “... then let me touch you, baby.”

It was her who was being stimulated, but he nearly groans into her hair at the feeling of her soft wetness, the way it feels against his fingers, the way her arousal coats him so eagerly.

“... I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he murmurs hoarsely, rubbing delicate circles across her nub, diligently favouring the area she had favoured mere moments ago. “Then why didn’t you,” she gasps at the last syllable, at the sudden intrusion of his long finger having slid deep inside her.

“... Sorry,” he says, sounding far too turned on to be sorry, “... you’re so wet, Mikasa.” He’s in awe, almost reverent of how warm she is, how easy.

She hangs on to his neck now, teeth grazing his neck, whispering, “... I want you, Eren.” Her breath is warm and damp and he’s unmistakably certain of what she asks.

“... Are you sure?” He asks, panting, hoping to god she’s sure, because he’s so ready, he’s been ready for a long time now, and he can barely control himself from leaking onto his own hand, when she says, “Yes.”

He makes sure she’s comfortable, or as comfortable as she can be on top of her clothes, and he commits everything to memory, the way she looks beneath him, the way her breasts heave when he pulls off the entirety of that dress, the way her nipples stiffen against his warm kisses. “... Please,” she whimpers, when he takes his time with her, taking the peaks of her breasts into her mouth and teasing ever so slightly with his teeth.

“... I can’t help it,” he rasps, “I want to touch you everywhere, you’re so pretty, babe, I,” -

He chokes, cut off, by the feeling of her delicate hands circling around him, pumping slowly as she guides him to her entrance. “Shit, Mikasa,” he curses, closing his eyes as he feels the sensation of her warmth against his tip.

It’s not his first time, but he feels like a stumbling virgin, murmuring desperate things as he feels her sheathe him completely, pausing only to pay attention to her comfort. Barely coherent, he asks, “... you okay?” She nods quietly, and his eyebrows furrow, looking at her questioningly. “Feels… so full,” she manages, with a feeble groan, and he can’t help but grin at how irresistible she is.

“... That’s because I’m supposed to fill you up, babe,” he whispers, not caring how far gone he is, because he slides out just a little only to spread her legs for him again, and slide back in. He tests the rhythm carefully, watching her expressions for any sign of discomfort, but the way she squeezes her eyes, the way she throws her head back with a gasp, just makes him lose whatever little control he had.

“Please tell me if I need to go slower,” he tells her, but judging from her reaction, from her moans, she only seemed to be egging him on.

It’s too much, he thinks, too much for him to possibly handle, not with the way she bucks her hips, and definitely not with the way she clenches needily around him.

And in a moment that he’ll probably never live down, he groans, “Fuck, babe, I’m going to,” - barely realizing with some consciousness to pull out of her tight, wet, core, and spills onto her stomach.

Mikasa’s never seen him make a face like that.

When he opens his eyes, she’s looking at him in wonder. And he’s looking at the mess he’s made on her stomach, and even though a small part of him only feels arousal at the sight of that, today he just feels like a massive asshole. “Shit,” he curses, not happy with how this played out at all. He reaches for the panties she’d so easily discarded and mops up his sticky release, mumbling, “... God, I’m so sorry, Mikasa. This was your first time, I can’t even believe,” -

“Eren,” she interrupts, because she doesn’t have time for this, his self-derision can come later. “... I, um…,” she clenches her thighs together, and he suddenly realizes that he hadn’t yet completely fucked shit up, he could still make her feel good, and that’s all he wanted.

He settles himself between her legs and spreads her folds open for him, feeling a familiar twitch at the pretty sigh in front of him. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers earnestly, before she feels his mouth on her folds. He kisses her like how he kisses her lips, like he wants to consume her, and if she thought it felt good against her own mouth, it felt only a million times better down there. He’s generous with his tongue, probing circling, sending her into a frenzy that only he could have managed.

She threads her fingers into his hair, gasping his name, prettily, holding on to him as she rides wave after wave of pleasure against his tongue.

When he lifts himself up and looks at her, he grins, his mouth shining because of her juices, and she closes her eyes swearing to herself that she will never forget that sight.

He collapses next to her, this time of a happier countenance because somewhere in his mind he’s judged this to be a fair exchange, and because Mikasa knows him so well, she can’t help but giggle.

“I’m not usually like this,” he asserts, once he’s caught his breath, and she’s barely managed to catch hers. She raises an eyebrow at him, amused. Trust Eren to be bothered about the unnecessary mechanics of his ego, barely minutes after their first time. “... I swear, next time I’m not going to let you go unless you have at least three orgasms. Minimum.”

“I guess I’ll have to hold you to it, Eren,” she murmurs, chuckling. “And before you freak out about the other thing; I’m on birth control, so don’t worry.” There’s silence, remarkably guilty silence, because he hadn’t thought about it, and that’s ridiculous because he’d never done it without a condom before, and if he ever feels like the biggest idiot on the planet, it’s at this moment.

“... I fucking love you, Mikasa,” he says sincerely, thanking the gods and this insane goddess right beside him, and this time she can’t help but laugh out loud.

a/n: edit: two whole weeks after posting ao3, i finally got around to putting this on tumblr.

to all those who have been on this journey with me, thank you so much. it's been so fun with these guys in the hsy verse.

i can't believe the story is over; i'm not ready to let go. going forward i may or may not right 3 more chapters each focusing on armin, historia, and jean respectively. i'm still mulling over it :)

i've recently been made aware that some people who read my stories are minors and i should be more mindful. so the note below -

i'd just like to clarify that it's fairly normal to be 18 yo in senior year of high school (at least where i'm from), which is when this last chapter takes place, so i did not feel the need to write age anywhere. i just want to clarify this; im no one to lecture any body on the appropriate age to be sexually active - as long as the person who you're with treats you respectfully and honours your consent. and respect your own limits and body.

HOWEVER I WILL ABSOLUTELY TAKE THIS MOMENT TO LECTURE YOU ON THE USE OF BIRTH CONTROL - PLEASE USE CONDOMS. please discuss birth control or std prevention with a sexual partner. DO NOT BE LIKE EREN AND FORGET JEEZUS. i'm 27 when i'm writing this so the last scene was just meant to be funny, especially his unbelievable sigh of relief when he finds out she had the foresight to be careful.

anyway, see ya and if it might interest you pls check out my mikasa stripper au ;) i'm very excited about it.