#I only skimmed this once after I bought it at the library
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swagphilosopherdragon · 5 months ago
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You ever look for something really hard, stop looking, and then it pops up right in front of your face?
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ilkkawhat · 2 months ago
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tagged by @room-665 and @judyalvqrez, thank you both!💜💜💜💜
last song: Children of the Elder God by Old Gods of Asgard--in full. After that I was skipping through songs as I pulled into my neighborhood and driveway lol. honestly still seems like AW soundtrack music is like, the one thing I never skip since I got into it last November.
favourite color: Purple!
currently reading: House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, have been for a while lol I gotta get back on it. My mom got a bit of a kick out of seeing me moving the book around and flipping to the back and such 😂
currently watching: Series wise, nothing really since I finished Sorjonen...I've been just kinda watching a lot of youtube videos or movies. Been thinking about getting back into Only Murders in the Building (I watched the first two seasons I think? Maybe the 3rd? See I just gotta start over lol) and then watching Poromafia for my next Ilkka series (beyond just skimming), and I'm probably gonna start Interview With a Vampire sooner or later cause it's all over my dash EDIT: FUCK i forgot I'm watching Star Trek Enterprise! very slowly, I watch it while I chill downstairs with my dog when my parents go out shopping (he's got bad separation anxiety and is not allowed to go up the stairs anymore for his safety so I just go to him)
last movie: Rewatched Hell House 2 in full, started watching Butterfly Kisses last night but couldn't stay up to finish it. Trying to get in the mood for spooky season and last year I got really into the found footage sub-genre.
sweet, spicy or savory: Savory...not good with spicy (lol says a woman who works with chipotle peppers. We mill dehydrated pods and it was so strong the other day I legit threw up on my way out) but on a mild level I'm okay with it. Do like sweet stuff but I do have limits with it.
relationship status: Single, probably always gonna be that way and that's fine lol. But if I happen to meet someone maybe I won't be as much of a coward as I have been with other potential relationships I could have had...it also sucks cause I can't say I'm surrounded with the most pleasant relationships (my parents especially)
current obsession: Primarily Alan Wake, secondary Ilkka Villi and really just the Remedy Verse as a whole--I think work's just beating me down too much to enjoy really anything right now but god do I just crave for the atmosphere and aesthetic of Alan Wake 2 right now
tea or coffee: Coffee though I'm not against tea at all and will admit I haven't drank as much coffee as I used to, I stopped during one summer cause it was too hot and I think I may have lost my idk taste? tolerance? for black coffee but I do get iced french vanilla coffee from mcdonalds like once a week lol. (really I just drink a lot of celsius for my daily caffiene fix)
the last thing i googled: Rune Factory 5 cause I saw it's on sale on the Nintendo e-shop and I'm debating getting it even though I have tons of other games I should be playing and let's be real, I'm just gonna continue playing Alan Wake 2 for the tenth time tomorrow instead of even playing the recently bought Star Wars Outlaws 😂😂 but RF5 is like, 20 bucks and that's the cheapest I've ever seen it so it can't hurt just to get it in the library and maybe start it later
breaking the tag chain but if anybody wants to do this, go for it and say I tagged you
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televinita · 2 years ago
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First library sale of the year! Their bag sale, specifically. I initially went on the first night but I was so exhausted from work that I legitimately did not enjoy myself; I found no proper treasure and only bought 2 things, not least because I was surprised to find hardcovers were $2 instead of $1. So instead, I hatched a plan to come back for the $5 bag sale on Sunday, because I had a lot of fun with those in 2021 and didn’t really go to any in 2022 because I was already way over capacity with my regular buying. This time I had a great excuse!
My bag sale objectives are twofold: one, scoop up pretty books to dump in my HPB “sale fodder” bag (left side pic) -- I do not feel bad about this as long as I’ve given people who might genuinely want them at least a full weekend day plus a bag sale hour to pick them up first -- and two, grab whatever even mildly catches my eye once the bulk has been picked over, because hey, $5 whether I take two books or twenty-five, and *slaps reinforced paper sack* this bad boy can fit so many books.
I’m including the stack on the left just for general interest if anyone’s curious what kind of things I found. I don’t know any of these titles and am not interested in reading them. EXCEPT “Sold,” which I don't need a physical copy of but do love, and am probably going to buy as an e-book at some point because the writing is so profoundly moving. Might even just put that one in a Little Free Library, so strongly do I believe in its literary value to portray a harsh topic in teen-appropriate ways.
Below the cut, photos exclusively of the much-less-pretty, mostly-ex-library books’ covers from the stack on the right, along with extremely and unnecessarily long winded commentary.
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(hmmm, I did not arrange these in the same order I wanted to talk about them, but I guess I’d better follow the pics)
Adult Fiction & Nonfiction
1. Spill Simmer Falter Wither - Sara Baume (2015): Will I love it, IDK. Will I keep it...even less sure. But it’s about a solitary older man who adopts an unwanted dog, and it seems very introspective and beautifully written without being too heavily literary. This is almost always a trap in literary fiction, but what if it wasn’t.
2. The Distance Home - Orly Konig (2017): Ooh! on my TBR for like 5 years now, because horses + women’s fiction, everything in the summary appeals to me. Grabbed partly to ensure I have access in case the last copy gets weeded after this, and partly because there’s a good chance I’ll want to keep it.
3. The Escape - Lisa Harris (2020): would not have paid for this on its own, but on bag sale day I grabbed it for convenience just to read because “two air marshals transporting a dangerous prisoner crash-land in the mountains and everyone except them dies and now they need to catch the bad guy on the loose” really ticks all my law-enforcement-character-loving + wilderness setting + thriller preferences. [edit: it was exactly what I expected, nothin’ special. but to my delight, the library stickers actually peeled beautifully off this one so now it’s going in the sale pile]
4. Cold Day in the Sun - Sara Biren (2019): Oops, this one’s YA. Anyway, still haven’t read her books but I suspect I might like them, and they are so unpopular here that the library only has 1 copy left; it won’t last much longer. So, convenience again.
5. Wanderer - Sara Leon (2016): I skimmed through this last year when I was looking for pianist/composer characters and it wasn’t quite what I was in the mood for, but it’s slim and at some point I will be in the mood for “a novel that explores the stifled, unspoken feelings of a music teacher and his former student, and the damage done by their years of silence.” And the library weeded BOTH of its remaining copies at once in this sale so yeah, tucking this safely aside for later.
6. Leaving the Pink House - Ladette Randolph (2014): university press published memoir, I don’t know if I will really like her but there are no local library copies left and I love houses so much that this immediately grabbed my attention: on September 12, 2001, Randolph and her husband bought a dilapidated farmhouse on twenty acres outside Lincoln, Nebraska, and set about gutting and rebuilding the house themselves. They had nine months to complete the work. The project, undertaken at a time of national unrest and uncertainty, led Randolph to reflect on the houses of her past and the stages of her life that played out in each, both painful and joyful.
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Children’s & YA (mostly)
7. My Friend Flicka - Mary O’Hara: One of two I bought on Thursday. Not the most beautiful copy but not a bad one either, 1960s ex-school-library and fairly clean pages. Because I was just thinking about how odd it is that I neither own a copy of this very famous novel, nor ever see copies of it at these sales, despite owning the latter two books in the trilogy. I’d like to reread it, and haven’t since childhood.
8. I Tell A Lie Every So Often - Bruce Clements (1974): OH HEY, one of the long-weeded-from-local-libraries titles from Lost Masterworks of Young Adult Lit?? Instant snag! I’m always interested in reading those for myself, even though this one does not look nearly as exciting as hoped. Will probably read & release.
9. Vinyl Princess -- Yvonne Prinz (2009): I don’t remember this title well but I remember it fondly, and every time I look at it on Goodreads I think about rereading it, not least because she was really ahead of the curve in writing about a modern day teen who thinks music sounds better on records. I always promised myself I’d buy it if the library ever weeded its last copy, and that day has come.
10. King of the Screwups - K.L. Going (2009): actually, nah, this one’s going in the sale bag as originally planned. While sorting them I caught enough in the jacket summary about a complicated father/son relationship to make me wonder “Loki vibes?” and consider trying it, but upon further examination this just looks like an awful time. Trashy teen boys are not where it’s at for me.
11. More Tales for the Midnight Hour - J.B. Stamper (1992): I bought Still More Tales for the Midnight Hour as a teen and have loved it ever since; with this one I think I might finally have the full set o’ spook.
12. Both Sides of Time - Caroline B. Cooney (1995): I read so many of her books in high school, but I remember this one being one of the best. Mass market paperback is a very convenient way to store access. Plus, Laurel Leaf imprint is my favorite paperback imprint. very nostalgia/comfort.
13. Call it Courage - Armstrong Sperry: an elementary school fave I’ve almost forgotten, bought to revisit briefly and then I’ll release because holy hell is this cover ugly, and the too-stiff binding basically made to crack and dump the pages out.
14. Vacancy - K.R. Alexander (2021): THE children’s horror author of the modern day. I’ve actually read a couple of his books recently because the covers alone were so creepy, and had a blast, so I’d like to read this one too and then I’ll let it go. Much better in print than as an e-book, but library only has it on Libby.
15. Nop’s Trials - Donald McCraig (1985): Ending where we began, with an adult-fiction dog book set in nearly the same region... Except this is much better. It’s the other one I bought Thursday, and the closest to treasure in the set, because I read this in high school and 5-star loved it and have been looking out for a cheap copy ever since, but only ever saw it in a huge and heavy oversized hardcover. At last, the mass market paperback of my dreams/same as the one I originally read is mine.
BONUS FUN FACTS: 
(because I love to talk books and literally cannot shut up about them)
1. I spent an hour walking around and it was honestly fascinating to watch the number of books shrink in real time, circulating volunteers constantly consolidating sections and folding up/removing emptied tables. Practically a time lapse vid.
2. I donated a full grocery bag of books to this sale myself, and I was so excited by how many I saw on Thursday that were gone by Sunday. I also took back 3 of them (not pictured above) that had not been taken by an hour before sale ending time, because I was Personally Offended about it -- one of them was a horse book! i just accidentally had two copies of it -- and went, “fine, I’ll bring them somewhere they’re appreciated!”
(joke, but I really do plan to donate them to another sale and hope they have better luck in a new county. I don’t know for sure what the Friends do with unsold stock after these sales and I don’t want to, but I’d rather not risk ones I like being thrown out / donated anywhere that will pulp stock en masse if I don’t have to.)
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thorntonkrell-blog-blog · 3 months ago
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They have a way of returning do our beloved departed.
My father was always giving me books that he bought second, third, fourth or fifth hand.
I read a lot of them and passed them on to third, fourth, fifth and sixth hands.
Some of them I kept but never rea. I stashed those in the "some day" but not today" category in my reading list.
"Some day" came to one of them yesterday. I was heading down to our community pool. I wasn't there for the lapping. I was there for the chilling and for some Xanax reading. I needed a book that wouldn't mind getting wet and maybe even ruined by an errant kick from an upside down kid aiming their toes at the clouds and kicking out too close to me.
Before heading out the door, I stopped into my office and took another look at the shelves of my library. Hmmmm. Oh yeah, there's one that fits the bill. It's a some day that can handle a drenching and if drowned wouldn't be missed as it had lingered for decades on the shelf, unopened.
The Art of Fiction by John Gardner...1991 edition.
I like to write about reading but not such a big fan of reading about writing as my dedication to metaphysiction would only serve as a good example of bad writing in the eyes of many a teacher so screw'em I say, I'm not gonna read you needer.
I took Gardner with me to the pool. I skimmed through the pages and got a few ideas that I will eventually misinterpret due to the fact that I thought that I understood what they were expressing.
I was more interested in the blank pages at the beginning and the ending of the book. On the blank page at the beginning, my father or someone like him had affixed a version of my families coat of arms.
Yup that's my Dad did that.
Then I got to the back to what was once a blank page.
That once blank page was covered with a poem that my father had affixed to the page in the same way that the coat of arms was affixed to the front blank page.
The poem is called The Bridge and the author is Will Allen Droomgoogle which may be a real name of an obscure poet or the obscure pen name of the real guy who was my father. Either way I read it and decided to steal it.
Here it comes.
Here's what my father decided someone should need to read if they ever came across this book:
An old man going on a lone highway,
Came at the evening cold and gray
To a chasm vast and deep and wide
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim
The sullen stream had no fears for him
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.
"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim near,
You are wasting your strength with building here,
Your journey will end at the passing day
You have crossed the chasm deep and wide
Why build you this bridge at even tide??"
The builder lifted his old gray head
"Good friend, in the path I have come. "He said
"There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way
This chasm that has been naught to me,
To that fair haired youth may a pitfall be
He too, must cross in the twilight dim
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him."
I read the poem and felt the presence of my old man. Why had he chosen that poem and put it iin that place and what should I do having found it.
So a few moments ago, I looked up Will Dromgoole and disoverd that he was real person who lived in Vermont in the nineteenth century and was most well kown for his poem "The Bridge".
To me he was just another guy that I had never heard of until somehow I did and he thunderclapped me as soon as we met which is what obscure artists are born to do even if by some accident they become famous enough to look up on the internet.
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pisupsala · 2 years ago
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One for The History Books [Chapter 11] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]
[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.
[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc
[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.
[Words]3.9k
[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Epilogue
[Library]
One for The History Books - Chapter 11: Ripples You are curled up under Bradley's arm on the couch—the movie you were watching is almost over. You didn't exactly see much of it—you're not even sure which movie this is? It doesn't really matter either way.
You remember the important stuff. Bradley in low slung Navy sweatpants effortlessly twirling you through your living room to the soundtrack of the Breakfast Club. Him shamelessly taking a bite from your slice of pizza. His fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, skimming your thigh near your hipster shorts while watching TV and casually sipping his beer.
It doesn't even feel awkward—although you don't think you've had time to process anything enough to feel awkward about. Bradley makes things feel easy with his natural charm, and you are all too happy to go along with that.
“What time are you getting up tomorrow, sweetheart?”
His question shakes you out of your reverie.
“Oh, like 7?” You glance at your phone quickly, it's a little bit after 11 PM. It's not that late yet. You snuggle into him. “Why? Are you due back in Virginia Beach?”
“Not until Monday.” His words hang in the air for a moment too long.
“I mean - God,” You start before he can continue. “We're doing this whole thing ass-backwards anyway. Why don't you hang out here tomorrow while I'm at work, and we can go out after... or something? If you want.”
You clamp your mouth shut. Wow, like, all your good sense and morals just go out of the window where Bradley's concerned, eh? You are not ready for him to leave yet. What if this is a lightning in a bottle moment? Shouldn't you get to enjoy that for as long as you can?
“Is this a subtle hint that you want me to take you out on a date?” You can hear the mirth in his voice. You look up at his handsome face, grinning down at you.
Your face is growing hot. For all his sweetness, Bradley enjoys teasing and needling you a bit too much.
“Well, yeah, but it also just makes more sense this way.” You try to reply coolly, only partially succeeding, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction he can get a rise so easily out of you each time. You've fallen apart at his hands (and mouth...) multiple times now, you'd do well to try to save at least some of your dignity.
“Ah yes, it's the rational approach, of course.” Bradley's voice is sarcastic, as he pinches your thigh.
“And we've never been on a date.” You add, deadpan.
“I bought you ice cream.” He counters easily.
“That wasn't a date!” You wrinkle your nose in indignation. “That was a turn of fortune after a - oh fuck.”
You quickly sit up, pinching your nose. Shit, your nose has stopped hurting hours ago (more like you stopped thinking about it hurting), but it was clearly still sensitive. And that was a wrong move. Bradley doesn't waste time, and has grabbed you some kitchen towels, bunching them up and holding them under your nose.
“Is this why your sleeve was covered in blood?” The mirth has gone from his voice, he's calm but serious. You just make an affirmative sound, wanting the bleeding to stop quickly and not run down the back of your throat.
“Don't lean back, darlin' - tell me what happened?” He sounds concerned now. Okay, now you actually feel embarrassed. Because it's so stupid.
“I dropped a box.” You say tiredly, and your voice sounds muffled, as Bradley is still holding the wad of kitchen towels against your face. He's silent. He wants to laugh at you. You just know it.
“You dropped a box?” To his credit, Bradley's voice sounds neutral. You look at him from the corner of your eye—he's schooling his features, but you can just see in his eyes how much he's about to laugh at you.
“On my face.” You add, flatly.
“On your face.” He repeats slowly. “How?”
Is there no end to your torture?
“The shelf was too high. Don't laugh at me!”
That is of course the trigger that sets him off. Bradley, in his 6' and then some glory, is probably rarely too short for something. He's laughing at you heartily, still holding the towels to your face. You push his hand away, and get up off the couch.
“Fine, laugh at my pain and misfortune while I go wash my face.” You say haughtily, lightly slapping his shoulder. He playfully slaps your ass in return, still laughing. You yelp and laugh, too.
It's almost an hour later, after brushing your teeth, and you settle into bed together. You are exhausted, mentally and physically. As soon as you cuddle up, you feel your eyes falling close. It feels so nice.
For now at least, everything else feels far away. Work. Your busted car. The pit you would feel in your stomach when you'd lay in bed by yourself at night, where your insecurities and inadequacies would flow out until you felt you were drowning, is suddenly and thankfully absent.
If this really is just a lightning in a bottle moment, you fucking deserve it.
As you drift off, you don't notice Bradley stay awake, absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's early morning when you walk up to the bus stop. You got yourself an extra large coffee to go, because pinching yourself definitely didn't wake you up. You were convinced you'd wake up in an empty bed this morning, alarm clock blaring, feeling worse than ever before because that was the clearest dream about him you ever had.
But instead, you got woken up by gentle kisses on your shoulder, hands traveling down your body... you blush taking a large sip of your coffee. Nope, those fingers wrapped around your throat and his voice in your ear—oh jesus fuck the bus is here.
You hop on quickly, clutching your coffee. You're going to have to keep your wits about you today. At least while cleaning the storage, there's not that much that can go wrong, unless you drop another box on your face. Getting there, however...
As the bus approaches your stop, you start feeling apprehensive. You have to walk the gauntlet getting to your department. The Pentagon rumor mill is hungry.
Hold your head high, smile and don't stop walking.
You keep the smile on your face as you greet the guards at the metal detectors, handing over your ID card. The guard leans over to you conspiratorially.
“So miss Williams, yesterday...”
“Was very warm.” You cut in quickly, smile still on your face. “Yeah, it's unseasonably hot—I'm looking forward to winter!”
You grab your stuff and start walking to the elevators with a firm pace, waving over your shoulder at the guards. Don't give them an inch. You dodge the next few attempts at interactions by forcefully changing the topic and high tailing out of the situation—your cheeks hurting from keeping the smile plastered on your face. Yeah. Cleaning the storage solo really doesn't sound so bad now.
The smile disappears off your face completely when you reach your office door to drop off your things. An obnoxiously pink post-it is stuck on the handle, with flourished handwriting simply stating:
You're welcome <3
Oh, God. No. How could you be so blind? How did Bradley get into your locked office yesterday? You were so preoccupied with him being there period, you didn't consider how he got there. And that he really wasn't supposed to be there. Part of your work is classified, which makes your office off-limits to outsiders. Hell, to most of the team, even.
He's really going to be the end of you, and not in the sexy way.
But first. Leanne. You need to stop that girl before she blabs. Or blabs more than she already did. You rush through the hall to the small kitchenette, where you hear the voices of your co-workers. As you turn the corner, you spot Leanne, leaning against the counter. The moment she sees you, a big smile spreads on her face.
“Leanne, with me. Urgently.” You say sternly. Her smile falters as she follows you. You don't bother to look at the surprised faces of the team as you march back out into the hall.
“Darcy—what happened? I thought you'd be happy!” She jogs up to you, face concerned.
Quickly looking around, you see the hall is empty.
“Are you trying to get fired, Leanne?” You hiss at her, voice low.
“What? - what are you talking about?” Leanne seems genuinely baffled. You just hold up the crumpled pink post-it.
“Did you let Lt. Bradshaw into my office?”
“Yeah...” She seems hesitant in admitting it, and you can see she is not comprehending the issue. You pinch the bridge of your nose. Such a good start to the day, such a headache it's turning out to be.
“Okay, Leanne, listen. Please.” You keep your voice level—there's no use in getting angry at someone who doesn't understand what they did wrong, although part of you kind of wants to strangle her right now.
“You cannot let people into my office when I'm not there. Ever. There is classified material in there, and it could get very serious.”
“I thought... he's an officer... and he said he was your friend.”
You don't miss that Bradley apparently referred to you as his friend. Filing that information away for later to pester him about, you just sigh.
“I know you know better than that.” You look at her, still stern—she looks genuinely scared. “A uniform and a pretty smile don't mean anything for security clearance—don't let people into my office when I'm out, and for the love of all that's holy, don't tell anybody about this, okay?”
She nods, eyes downcast. You might not have taken the most diplomatic route, but this urgently needed to get nipped in the bud.
“Keep your head screwed on straight, Leanne.” Advice you should really be taking yourself, but you are trying to be kind to her. “Just focus on doing your job.”
Again, advice well suited for you too. Leanne nods sadly. You pat her on the shoulder to encourage her. You are curious what kind of tale Bradley spun poor Leanne, because she might be impulsive, but this is kind of a lot, even for her.
But then again... it's not like you behaved rationally after he showed up looking like a cool tall drink in those service khaki's. Underpinned by the fact that Bradley was asleep in your bed this morning, naked, when you left for work. Can you really judge?
You both start walking back to the kitchenette, and Leanne seems to regain some pep in her step again.
“So you and Lt. Bradshaw are-” Leanne flashes you a cheeky grin. Of course, her curiosity got the better of her.
“If you dare finish that sentence,” You cut her off firmly, voice forcibly light. “So help me god.” 
“Duly noted.” Leanne nods solemnly and ducks back into the kitchenette. You don't miss her wink at you as she wishes you a good day. This is promising to be a long day.
You slink back to your office, hoping not to run into anyone else. Check email, hide in storage room, wait for the day to end. Turning on your computer, you sink back into your chair. Best to get this done quickly.
You enjoy the relative quiet of your office as you focus on firing out emails. A bit too focused, perhaps.
“So are you to tell Birch yourself, or shall I do the honors?”
You look up. Riks is casually leaning against the doorway, looking like a cat that got the cream. Great.
“About what?” You don't bother to smile or go out of your way to be polite. Best to have him spit out what hell has got him going this morning, so you can avoid him for the rest of the day—or time, preferably.
But he just stands there, an almost scary smile on his face. Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral.
“Oh, I don't know.” He waves his hand, clearly enjoying having the upper hand in the situation. “Something about inappropriate relationships, withholding evidence to cover for your paramour....”
Paramour? Ew.
“Did you rehearse this?” You ask tiredly. Don't take the bait. A short flash of anger passes over Riks' face. Hah, that got to him.
“Nice deflection Williams.” He bites out. “But you're not denying it.”
“Denying what?” Spit it out already, Corporal Cunt.
“You withheld that incident report about Bradshaw starting a fight because you were sleeping with him, and he wouldn't get washed out of the mission.” Riks accuses you, tone steely.
You stare. Your brain seriously not comprehending where Riks is going with this. Why would you withhold that report (which wasn't relevant, and no one was punished over the indecent) so Bradley could go on a mission that could kill him— and nearly did, actually —because you were sleeping with him? Just. What?
“You should get fired over this.” He concludes. “And you will.”
“You are... insane.” You exclaim in disbelief, barely stopping yourself from laughing. “Jesus, how long have you been working on that theory? It's flimsy, even for you.”
“You're still not denying it.” He gloats undeterred. “And about the whole DoD knows about the Naval aviator that picked you up here yesterday.”
You roll your eyes obnoxiously. “And then what? It's been over three months since I recused myself. Hardly a breach of ethics.”
“Perhaps, but why did you recuse yourself?”
Shit, you might have overplayed your hand there. Stay calm. Riks doesn't have proof of anything. He wouldn't drag this out otherwise; he would have gone straight to Birch months ago. If he had anything solid to go on based on Bradley being here yesterday, he would not stop to gloat. He's fishing for evidence because he sees an in. Play it cool.
“You don't rate that information.” You brush him off, shrugging lightly. “That's between me and the boss.”
“I don't rate -” Riks scoffs loudly. “You sure like talking the talk, without having walked the walk.”
“Because you have?” You retort, getting annoyed now. Not this again. You don't belong here because you are civilian, bla bla bla. “You're working in the same place I do Riks, for as long as I have—only difference is you went to boot camp. So you can cut the crap after all these years.”
Riks suddenly storms up to your desk with such speed and anger, rage etched on his face, you are convinced he's going to punch you. You jump out of your chair and stumble back, actually scared now. That clearly hit a sore spot. He circles around your desk like a predator, seething.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch.” Riks is still stalking up to you, fist balled at his side. You almost trip backwards over your bag that you left on the floor. This is the time you need to stand your ground. He is trying to intimidate you. Don't let him. You are terrified he's actually going to take a swing at you—you've never seen Riks this mad. But he wouldn't. Would he?
“You are so fucking pathetic.” In your panic, you are near yelling just to compensate for how completely freaked out you are. “You have the whole prestige project to yourself, but you are so incredibly inept, you still come after me.”
Cheeks burning and eyes blazing, you plant your feet. You are not going without a fight. You endured years of bullshit with Riks, him cutting at your confidence, undermining you, and being plain rude under the guise of jokes. And you took it all with a smile, never wanting to take the bait. But now you will, and you're going to strangle Riks with the line.
“How incompetent are you, exactly?!” You are screaming now. “You have no proof, an insane theory not worthy of critique, and all you've done is waste time looking for a way to undermine me!”
“Because you don't deserve to be here!” Riks is yelling back at you, red in the face. “You fucked your way in, and you are using Bradshaw to fuck your way up!”
“What the- you are completely fucking unhinged! On what plane of reality-”
The door to your office flies open with such a bang it rattles the painting on your wall. You yelp. Riks quickly straightens up, still seething.
Birch is standing in the doorway, hands folded behind his back and a look that spells thunder. You are stunned into silence, swallowing dryly. Riks opens his mouth to speak, but Birch just shakes his head as he marches into your office, looking back and forth between both of you.
“This is the second screaming match in your office in two days, Williams.” Birch remarks, voice entirely too calm for his demeanor. You lower your eyes, knowing better than to speak up now. There's really nothing you can say anyway, because his statement is true.
“It would behoove both of you to behave like professionals and set an example befitting your role.” His voice booms through the room, leaving no room for argument. Shit, this is so embarrassing. The whole department probably heard you. Twice.
He stops in front of Riks, who is standing to attention nervously.
“You.” He prods Riks in the chest with a finger, voice steely. “If you ever suspect someone of misconduct, you follow the chain of command, which means you come to me.”
Riks opens his mouth again to speak.
“Shut the fuck up, Corporal, I don't want to hear it.” Birch continues without missing a beat. “Under no circumstance, you start investigating and accusing people on your own team like a piece of shit. Everything goes through me.”
Riks nods.
“Dismissed, Corporal.” Riks, stubborn to the bone, looks like he wants to say something again. “Get the fuck out of here!” Birch orders loudly, his booming voice filling the whole room again. You feel like the soundwaves are physically pushing you back.
Riks hightails out, not sparing either of you another look.
“And you.” Birch thunders as he legs it up to you, his fingers pointing in your face. You flinch back.
“Unfuck yourself.” He hisses. You blanch.
“Unfuck yourself from whatever tailspin that stick jockey has you in.” You flinch again, face burning in embarrassment, wanting to defend yourself, minimize the accusation, amend the circumstances.
“Fuck it out of your system, elope—I don't care how you do it. Quite frankly, I don't want to know.”
Your heart is beating in your throat. You don't think your face could get any redder. Did your boss seriously just say that to you?
“But you are going to show up on Monday, head clear, and you are going to do your job and not make your personal life a problem for me anymore.”
You look at Birch, nodding mutely. Shit. At least you're not fired? But this definitely ranks among the worst and most uncomfortable workplace conversations you ever had. Birch sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“A new senate committee is being formed to investigate a failed mission.” Birch looks up at you. “I recommended you as the lead archivist for that. Can you handle that?”
“Ye- yes, of course.” You stumble over your words. “Thanks boss.”
“Let me make one thing very clear. This is your first and final warning.” He thunders, looking at you sternly. “I catch you lying to me again, skating responsibilities, having another screaming match in the office—I might have to start taking an interest in the exact timeline of events between you and Lt. Bradshaw.”
“I understand, but please believe me-” You start hurriedly.
“Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up already!” Birch exclaims angrily. “I just told you not to lie to me. And don't say anything that could potentially incriminate you, or worse, me. I don't want to know, and don't make me find out.”
Stunned, you nod. Was Birch really going to let this whole thing slide by just having you never mention it? Could you really be that lucky? That would take all ammunition out of Riks' hands (not that he had much to begin with...).
“Thanks again boss. I'll finish up in the storage today.” You say softly, forcing a smile on your face.
Birch puts his hand in his pocket and shakes his head.
“Go home for the day, Darcy.” He sounds tired. “Go figure out your shit, and come see me Monday first thing for the senate committee.”
“Will do. Have a good weekend.” You smile a little wider. Birch looks like he needs a stiff drink. You could use one too after the morning you've had. He bids you goodbye, and marches out of your office. You hear him mumble something about 'fucking kids these days'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is only a little bit before noon when you barrel into your apartment. Your brain is in complete overdrive. You need a drink. No, you need to lay down. No, splash some water in your face. A large coffee and a pint of ice cream. Something, anything to stop the million different thoughts running crazy through your head.
Loudly dropping your bag next to your shoes in the hall, you let out a loud exasperated sigh as you walk into the living room, rubbing your face.
“Oh shit, how long was I asleep?”
You stop dead in your tracks. Bradley. He's on sprawled out on the couch, rubbing his face. Was he asleep there?
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” You smile softly.
“No, it's fine.” He says, yawning. He looks adorable when he's so sleepy—hair mussed up, voice thick. “What time is it?”
“Like noon.” You shrug as you walk up and sit down next to him. Bradley pulls you against him, tucking your head under his chin. You close your eyes for a second. This is good. Just focus on this.
“How come you're back already?” Bradley's hand is rubbing circles on your back. “Are feeling okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.” You mumble, suddenly embarrassed. It feels really weird to admit that you have been sent home to, as your boss put it, unfuck yourself.
“Are you skating because you want to go on a date really bad?” Bradley teases. You giggle despite yourself.
"No, this was sanctioned." You reply vaguely. Should you tell Bradley?
You sit up and regard him for a moment. He has a right to know, you concede. You suppose you'd want to know if he were dealing with something similar.
“Darlin', what's going on?” Bradley's face turns serious. You crack a smile.
“It's kind of a long story, but it comes down to my boss telling me to either fuck you out of my system or marry you.” Bradley's eyes widen, and you let out a nervous giggle. “In short, I need to unfuck myself before Monday.”
There's a moment of silence. Was that too much? Did you make it really awkward now?
Then Bradley bursts out laughing. You decide then and there it's your favorite sound in the world. Chuckling softly, you rub your forehead.
“I'm going to make us some coffee, babe.” You smile as you get up. “And then I'll tell you how I got into this mess, so you can laugh at me some more.”
Maybe this day will still turn out okay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[note] next chapter will be the date-time! Living for all the amazing comments I have been getting <3 you guys are the absolute best.
[taglist] @ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 | @turningtoclown | @mell-bell | @mak-32 |@avis15
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mirclealignr · 3 years ago
Text
HOW YOUR FIRST KISS WITH THE MARAUDERS + CO. WOULD GO ;
requested by anon—i hope you like it <3
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James Potter ;
James would probably go down a traditional route.
He’d know immediately that he liked you and wouldn’t waste any time in asking you out, hoping desperately that you’d accept.
He’d take you on a simple date, probably to Hogsmeade where you’d walk around together, going into any of the shops you wanted to.
James would most likely insist he bought you something, anything, really—he just wanted to buy you something.
But there wouldn’t be anything you wanted enough that you couldn’t pay for yourself—like some sweets from Honeydukes.
He’d definitely take you to the Three Broom Sticks and sit you down in a little booth in the corner.
He’d flirt with you, laugh with you and exchange funny stories, enjoying every second of it, more than he thought he could.
You’d catch yourself staring one too many times, tuning out his words and focussing only on the way his mouth moved.
After the date was over, he’d walk you back to your dorm, his hand tucked into yours.
Having your back to your dorm room door, you’d smile sweetly, focussing on how close he was and the thumb rubbing lightly against your knuckles.
After a moment, the movement would stop and he’d untangle his fingers from yours, brining one hand up to your face.
He’d lean in slowly, waiting to see if you might move in closer too.
When you started to lean in, he’d quickly catch his lips with yours, pushing you back against the door and cupping your face in both hands.
Eventually, you’d pull away reluctantly, staring at him breathlessly. Another quick peck to the lips and you’d say goodnight.
His hand would remain perched on the doorframe as you closed the door behind you, resting on it once more with a smile on your face and fingers tracing over your lips.
On the other side, James’ forehead would be rested against the door before he turned around slowly and saw Sirius at the top of the stairs grinning from ear to ear.
“Enjoyed that, then?”
James would laugh, but wouldn’t deny it, of course.
Remus Lupin ;
Remus would probably have a hard time working up the courage to kiss you.
There’d be so many times he came close but backed out at the last minute, fearing you might back away and laugh at him.
It would be a running joke with his friends, including bets being made on when he’d finally manage to do it.
They’d always be very encouraging too though, because they weren’t as blind as Remus.
It would finally happen on a normal day, doing something completely ordinary and usual for you—maybe studying in the library for an assignment due in.
He’d glance at you from the corner of his eyes, finding it hard to concentrate when you were right there, sitting next to him, close to him.
Merlin he’d be a mess, shifting in his seat, incessantly tapping his quill and making countless spelling mistakes.
You’d be aware of it all, trying not to react in case it made him more nervous, but it would be getting ridiculous.
He’d only be nervous around you at certain times and you couldn’t understand why, or what was so important about those times.
You’d get his attention by staring at him, waiting for him to explain himself.
“What?”
He’d barely be able to hold eye contact until you said his name softer than anyone had said it before, at which point he’d be caught in a stare.
“Rem, I’m going to do something, okay?”
He’d simply nod, wishing it might be what he’d been trying to do for weeks now.
You’d lean in close, looking him in the eye and then darting down to his lips. You’d wet yours with your tongue before looking him in the eye again.
Remus would keep eye contact, afraid that if he looked away he might wake up from a dream.
Your lips would be soft against his, and immediately his hands would cup your jaw, bringing your closer and falling in deeper.
His eyebrows would scrunch together as his lips moved against yours, and even after he pulled away.
Remus wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile from his face as he walked into the dorm he shared with James, Sirius and Peter.
He wouldn’t be able to get the feeling of you out of his head the whole way there.
“So you did it then?”
“Actually, they did.”
James would groan loudly, pushing his face into his pillow while Sirius laughed heartily.
“Pay up, fool.”
Still planted into his pillow, James would slam his hand down on the table beside his bed and throw some money at Sirius.
Sirius Black ;
Sirius would be a wreck for days; he couldn’t understand what he was feeling and wouldn’t given himself enough time to figure it out.
If he ignored it, it might go away.
But you wouldn’t.
It took him some time to realise that the feeling was attached to you, like invisible string had tied his heart around your finger.
He’d kissed people before, sure, but he couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to kiss you—he was almost afraid.
He’d have half a mind to bury the feeling and you along with it, friendship gone and forgotten about.
But he couldn’t do that, he wanted you too much. He needed you.
Out in the courtyard was where he’d asked you to meet him via a little note beside your bed.
He’d wait there, pacing back and forth and then sitting down while his leg bobbed up and down.
He wouldn’t hear you approach, his thoughts too thunderous to hear anything outside of them.
The tap on his shoulder would startle him, until he realised it was you.
He’d try to talk, to explain things and what was going on with him and why things seemed different.
In fact, you’d be surprised Sirius wanted to meet you anywhere, he’d been oddly distant lately, but not in a cruel way.
Almost in a way that suggested he was frightened.
He’d sigh, “You know I can’t talk about things.”
He’d link his pinky with yours, looking down to the stone pavement you were standing on.
You’d reach up and brush the hair from his face, smiling up encouragingly.
He wouldn’t be able to take it anymore—you were so gentle, so patient and he needed to tell you, or show you.
He’d lean in quickly, his lips just skimming yours, but he’d wait there, close and asking.
When you didn’t move, he’d close that extra inch, gliding his lips over yours almost desperately.
His hands would roam from your waist, up your back and along your jaw, aching to just hold you.
He knew then that the feeling would never go away, but he wouldn’t mind it so much anymore.
Lily Evans ;
It wouldn’t even be a thought for Lily, it would probably happen by accident.
You’d be sitting against a tree on the grounds of Hogwarts, reading or just talking and soaking in the sun.
You’d have said something funny, something that made Lily laugh more than she had done in a while.
She’d turn her head against the tree trunk and watch you laugh and how there were crinkles beside your eyes.
She’d watch how your cheeks plumped as your smiled stretched further.
After a minute, her smile would fade as she continued to stare at you as if the world was about to implode and she had to look at you and memorise everything before it was too late.
It was intense, she could feel it in her stomach, her heart. But she’d push it down when you looked at her, careful not to reveal everything too soon.
And when your eyes met hers, she’d just…kiss you, like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.
It felt like it was, but it also felt new and exciting—a rush would wash over her, making he slightly dizzy.
She was drunk with the thought and feel of you.
It would be a quick reciprocation from you after you realised what was happening.
Your hands would tangle into her brazen hair, and for that moment on a sunny day under the cover of green leaves, everything would be utterly perfect.
Lily would smile against your lips, unable to hold in the happiness she was feeling that it was all real.
Resting her forehead on yours, she’d sigh contently, and you’d stay that way for a minute or two, just soaking up the image of each other.
The wind would pick up, blowing a strand of hair across Lily’s eyes, so you’d brush it away, tucking it behind her ear.
Taking the opportunity, you’d kiss her cheek, slowly moving across to her nose and back down to her lips where you’d give her a quick peck.
Lily would laugh, eliciting your laugh once more before she pulled you flush against her and dropped to the soft grass below.
Marlene Mckinnon ;
Marlene would know she liked you pretty quickly. She’d know herself and what she wanted.
And oddly enough, for Marlene, it would be harder to approach the subject than she thought.
Usually she’d have no problems going after what she wanted, but with you she seemed to stumble a little bit more.
Instead of looking or trying to create the perfect moment or the perfect way to ask you out or kiss you, she’d decide just to wait and see what happened.
When the right moment came to her, she’d know.
It would probably just be a normal evening, just you and her talking together in your dorm or the common room.
No one else would be around, which both you and Marlene would always take advantage of when it happened.
She’d be watching you talk rather than listening.
How your mouth moved and how sometimes, when you weren’t sure how to put your thoughts into words, you’d bite your lip.
How your hands moved with the plot of the story, signalling when you were happy, angry or for an action of something you were describing.
You’d probably catch yourself, realising Marlene wasn’t really paying attention and apologising for talking too much.
Marlene would laugh, telling you there was no such thing and encouraging you to carry on.
And she’d realise right there, that it was the moment she’d been waiting for.
She’d been sat admiring you and almost didn’t notice how perfect the moment was to finally kiss you.
“Y/N.”
It would sound soft, almost lazy, and you’d immediately quieten down, staring at Marlene who’d just interrupted you.
“I really want to kiss you.”
Completely dumbfounded, you wouldn’t know what to do or say, but you were sure that when you looked back you’d know exactly what you should have done.
Marlene would lean in to see what you thought, since there was no response that indicated a mutual feeling or rejection.
You’d stay impossibly still, worried you might do something wrong otherwise.
But she’d hesitate, just for a moment, questioning whether she was doing the right thing.
And the idea of a future where she hadn’t kissed you then wasn’t something you wanted to bring into reality.
And that’d be how you knew that you wanted it to, and knowing exactly what to do, you’d lean in quickly and capture your lips with hers.
Regulus Black ;
There wouldn’t be any admittance to feelings before your first kiss.
Regulus would be sceptical, cautious to enter into a relationship, especially when he didn’t know if he would be able to be there for you the way you deserved.
He’d be used to you finding him in the Astronomy Tower, tucked away from humanity and left with his own mind—for better or for worse.
Usually your presence would be a welcome comfort, unless things were particularly bad, at which point you knew to leave.
But it would be a time for you and Regulus to just be you, to share deep and dark secrets or laugh at something that had happened in class.
It would serve as a sanctuary for whatever you needed, so it was fitting that your first kiss would take place there.
In a place you’d learn to call yours together with Regulus.
You’d probably approach him on a particularly bad night, but he wouldn’t send you away.
He thought by doing that, he’d only allow for damaging, cursed thoughts to fill his mind and taint his heart, corrupting him from within.
Your company would ease it all, slow it down if anything. It would provide light and safety in places where the shadows couldn’t reach.
At this point, Regulus would glance at you, how the wind caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up, how it bit at your skin, but that you still wore a gentle smile upon your face.
He’d realise that every night you spent up in the tower alone with him, paved a path from his heart to yours—he’d know that they’d finally met.
He’d finally realise that he had no expectations to live up to, no one that he had to be but himself; you’d willingly spent your nights with him, not just to wallow or brood but to laugh and talk about yourselves.
After admiring you both in memory and in the present, Regulus would place his hand over yours that rested on the railings.
It would be cold from the night air, but it wouldn’t matter to him.
You’d look up to Regulus, the person you’d given up countless nights for, just to be with him because you couldn’t think of a better excuse not to sleep.
He’d look at you differently, not like he ever had before and it was send waves of butterflies to the pit of your stomach.
He’d lean in slowly, whispering your name as if it was a question, waiting for your response in the quiet night.
It wouldn’t be an audible answer, but rather shown in movement as your face inched closer to his before finally your lips met in a slow and tender kiss.
His hands would cup your face, bringing you impossibly close, wishing for you never to leave.
But you would, your lips would part and a smile would break out over them, just like it would on Regulus’—mirrored emotion speaking words better than either of you could have formed them.
- - -
forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann / @lillict / @savingpluto / @lunarmoon8 / @theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @queen-asteria04
harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04
marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @iamninaannaisreading / @i-wanna-b-yours / @sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a
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ncssian · 3 years ago
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty-One
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.
***
The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?
The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.
By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.
Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.
Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.
“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”
Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”
“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.
“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.
Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.
Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.
“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”
As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.
Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.
Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.
“What?”
“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.
“I agree, but—”
Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”
Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”
He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.
Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”
He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.
Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.
***
Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.
“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”
“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”
When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.
Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.
Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.
“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”
“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”
“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.
“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”
A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.
“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”
Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.
Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”
“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”
“Guys!” Nesta snaps.
Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”
Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”
“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”
Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”
“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.
“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”
“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”
“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.
“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”
“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”
“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.
Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”
“But it’s what he’ll think.”
“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.
Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”
“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”
“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”
Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.
“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”
Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.
Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”
Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”
“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”
Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”
“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”
“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.
There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”
Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.
In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.
When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.
“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.
“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.
A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.
“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”
Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.
Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”
“I can hear you,” Azriel says.
“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”
“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.
“So can I,” Emerie nods.
“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”
Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”
Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”
“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”
She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”
“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”
Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”
She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.
God, having friends sucks.
Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”
***
Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.
Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”
“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.
“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.
“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”
“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.
“What tone?” Cassian repeats.
Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”
“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”
“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.
“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”
She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”
But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?
He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.
Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.
Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.
“What are you doing?” Nesta says.
“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”
Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.
Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.
“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.
Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”
“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”
Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”
Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.
Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”
Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.
Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.
Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.
“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”
Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.
“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.
“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.
Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”
Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.
When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.
Az starts, “What a fake little—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”
Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.
“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.
Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.
“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”
Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”
Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”
He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.
“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.
“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.
Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.
“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.
“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.
“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.
Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.
Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”
Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”
Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”
Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”
Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”
“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”
That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.
Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.
God, sometimes having friends sucks.
***
a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland
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welldonebeca · 3 years ago
Text
Be Ours (XVIII)
WC: 3.1k words Warnings: Smut, teacher/student roleplay, anal sex, sex toys, dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, blowjobs, cunnilingus, tweed kink apparently, praising kink, multiple orgasms.
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Be Ours (The Series) - Masterlist
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Dean’s thick fingers were delicate and stable over Cassandra’s hair as he brushed it back, gathering everything and making a high ponytail, before wrapping it with a hot pink scrunchie.
“Gorgeous little thing,” he mumbled to himself, looking down on her. “You’re going to be a treat for Sammy, won’t you, princess?”
She just giggled, eyeing the pair of cheap pom-poms he’d bought along with a little - very little and very slutty - cheerleader costume.
“Sammy?” she repeated, giddy and a little cheeky.
Dean raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him.
“He’s my little brother, princess,” he tapped her on the nose with a single finger. “I get to call him that. It’s professor Samuel to you.”
She smiled.
“Professor Sammy,” Cassie said in a teasing tone, giggling more.
Her boyfriend shook his head, reaching for her and adjusting the sleeveless top on her shoulders.
“Are you wearing anything under that?” he asked, fingertips skimming down her collarbones to her breasts.
She wasn’t. Cassandra’s outfit was composed simply by a little skirt that barely covered her ass and the back of her thighs, and a top that was a little thin and showed her nipples to anyone who would look.
“I thought you liked looking at my tits, coach,” she teased him.
Dean licked his lips.
"So you decided to flash the whole school?" he raised his eyebrows.
She just giggled, and skipped to her pom-poms, bending down, extremely dramatic and showing him her naked pussy, only standing straight after hearing her boyfriend hissing.
"We gotta see professor Samuel, coach," she answered simply. "We can't be late."
Cassandra left his room before Dean could say anything, looking behind her shoulder and walking to the library that existed in the bunker before they had even started living them, opening the door to find Sam seated behind a desk, reading a book dismissively.
She knew all too well he wasn't reading it for real, but her eyes quickly averted to his body once she realised she wasn't the only one wearing a new outfit.
Cassie never knew Sam looked that goo in a tweed jumper. Had she known, he would be wearing them far more around the bunker.
She blushed and sucked in a breath when Dean's big hand moved to her ass, caressing her skin.
"And that is why I'm the favourite teacher in the school," he said smugly by her side, finger slipping down to caress her fold. "Right, sweet thing?"
She nodded, humming positively and letting her lips fall open at the soft pleasure.
"That and your oral skills," Sam put his book aside, raising his eyes to them. "Right, brother?"
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "And here I was, trying to surprise you, little prick."
Cassie yelped when he turned her around, moving his hands to flip her skirt up, but she stepped away from him quickly.
"Coach Dean!" she exclaimed. "I need to talk to Professor Sam!"
Dean chuckled, and crossed his arms, looking over at Sam and letting her turn to do the same.
"And what do you need, Miss Cassandra?"
She moved on her spot, a little uncomfortable under his very intense stare.
"My last essay, sir," she mumbled. "You gave me a really bad grade."
He smirked, chuckling.
"Well, if you weren't so busy bouncing on Dean's cock, you could have studied and gotten a better grade."
Cassandra pouted.
"But..." she tried to protest. "I..."
"But, but, but... you?" he repeated, so mockingly. "You want a better grade."
She lowered her eyes.
"You deserve a better grade," he pointed out. "You are just a lazy little slut, and if you want to earn anything, you have to prove that you deserve it."
Dean's hand touched the middle of her back.
"I think she can show you how much she deserved a new grade, Sammy," he declared. "She can be so good."
Sam became silent for a moment, and stood up, crossing his arms.
"What's her body count?" he asked.
"Just me," Dean affirmed, smug. "She's faithful."
Sam laughed.
"A faithful slut, Dean?" he asked, condescending. "That is so you. You're gonna tell me you took her virginity?"
Cassandra raised her eyes, cheeks red and hot, and Dean laughed loudly.
"Oh, she was so adamant about keeping her purity," he told his brother. "But so dumb at the same time."
Dean moved his hand to her skirt again, and instead of just flipping it, he straight up unzipped it, yanking it down and exposing her lower half as it fell down and pooled at her feet.
"Dumb slut here thought putting the tip was like fingering," he chuckled. "And that she'd still be a virgin after that. It's the oldest trick on Earth."
Cassandra's cheeks were burning, but she just allowed herself to be pushed towards the desk, bending down when Sam pressed down on her back.
"Truly dumb, then," he moved his finger down her back, caressing her spine gently. "No wonder she is failing every class but yours."
"She can't fuck each and all teachers," Dean noticed. "Well... she could. But she's not that slutty."
Sam scoffed soundly, and she jumped when his finger moved down her ass-crack.
"Good thing I have a good rep with the staff," he sighed. "I'll ask them to give her some extra credit, and then she can be a proud C student."
Her eyes widened in surprise at how simple it sounded.
"Really, sir?" the woman moved.
Sam's hand pressed her down again.
"If you earn it, yes," he warned her. "If you're good enough, I'll answer them for you myself, what do you think?"
Sam's finger stopped over her asshole, and he hummed in satisfaction when he realised the surprise she had in store for them.
"She picked the plug herself," Dean chimed in. "What do you think?"
Sam gripped the end of the plug, pushing and pulling it and making Cassie moan.
"How good is her ass?" he asked his brother, completely ignoring her.
"I wouldn't know," Dean answered. "I never had it."
The room fell into silence for a moment until Sam straight up laughed.
"Lucky me, then," he slapped her rear. "My own little virgin ass."
"Consider it an early birthday gift," Dean said simply.
She whimpered and felt Sam rubbing circles on her skin.
"What is it?" he asked.
Cassie licked her lips. This wasn't just a role. She never had anything more than a plug or fingers in her ass.
"Sir, I'm afraid," she mumbled.
One of them breathed in soundly, and her eyes opened quickly when Sam spoke again.
"Yellow," he said.
Sam pulled her up, as Cassandra just let him, learning closer when Sam sat her on the desk, cleaning her cheeks from tears she didn't realise were there before then.
"Baby," he whispered. "We don't need to do it."
Dean walked to them, taking her hand.
"We can just do it like always," he assured her.
Cassie shook her head.
"I want to do it," she affirmed and giggled, still nervous. "And it is way better to do it with Sam, cause, Dean... you're big. And very thick."
He chuckled.
"That I am," he agreed, smug.
"I don't know if I should be flattered or embarrassed," Sam chuckled.
"Sam, you destroy my cervix every night," she looked at him. "If you are gonna spear through me, at least my ass has more space."
Her boyfriend laughed.
"Princess, that really doesn't sound as sexy as you think."
"Good," Cassandra looked at his face. "Because it is not supposed to. I'm just being realistic."
She breathed in deeply.
"I want to do it," she told them. "And you can degrade and humiliate me through all of it. But I don't want it to hurt."
Sam nodded slowly, agreeing.
"Okay. We will make absolutely sure it doesn't hurt," he assured her. "So... no spanking?"
She shook her head.
"Not today."
"Alright," they said together.
Cassandra closed her eyes when Sam leant in, kissing her temple just as Dean did so with her knuckles.
"Okay, let me bend out again," she stood up.
The boys chuckled, and she returned to her previous posture, breathing in deep.
"I'm green," she announced.
"Green," Dean agreed.
"Green, then," Sam caressed her back.
Sam's fingers moved down to her ass again, and he twisted the plug, making Cassie moan.
"Did you put it on all by yourself?" he asked, voice tone so condescending it didn't even feel like the same person she was talking with just a moment ago.
"Yes, sir."
He hummed positively.
"And do you like it, Miss Cassandra?" he pulled gently on it, slowly fucking her with it.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to get pressure on her clit.
But Sam wasn't satisfied and moved his free hand to spread her legs again.
"No tricks, princess," he commanded. "Answer me. Do you like having it in your ass?"
"Yes, sir," she whimpered.
"And I'll be the first cock you have in it?" he asked.
"Yes, Mister Winchester."
Sam hummed, and moved his free hand to her pussy, pushing two fingers inside.
"Did you touch her pussy before this, Dean?"
"Nope," his brother declared.
He rubbed her clit with his thumb.
"You're wet for me, then, Miss?" he hummed. "Got wet by having your teacher playing with your ass?"
"Yes, sir," she moaned.
Sam slowly pulled the plug away.
"Let's make sure your efforts are valued, then," he decided.
She could hear the plug being thrown away and moaned when she felt him slipping the head of his cock into her hole.
"Fuck," she hissed.
Sam stood there quietly, inside her, but not moving.
"Sam," she whined.
"Shh," he hummed. "Can't hurt you, princess. You're a virgin there, after all."
He pushed his cock a little bit, slipping in less than an inch.
"Please," she whimpered.
Sam ignored her cried, pulling back and pushing in once again, fucking her slowly, though shallowly.
Fuck, it felt like it would never end.
"What do you think?" Dean asked, moving closer and standing in front of her.
"Give me the lube," Sam hissed.
His brother chuckled, and she opened her eyes in time to see him pulling a small bottle of lube from his pocket and giving it to his brother.
Cassandra sucked in a breath and whimpered when the warm liquid spread over her asshole.
"Open your mouth, baby," Dean commanded, fingers undoing his pants.
Sam pushed his cock into her a little more, and grabbing her hips with his hands and adjusting her so that her torso would be resting completely on the desk.
"Careful," he told his brother.
Dean scoffed, and moved his thumb over her lower lip, caressing it.
"I've been fucking this whore for a while now, Sammy," he pointed out. "I know she can take it."
Sam said nothing, pushing more inside her, and Cassandra moaned.
"But I'll be gentle," he decided.
Dean pulled his cock from his pants, and she watched as he slowly stroked it.
"Open up, princess," he repeated. "Don't make me ask again."
Cassie moaned and stuck out her tongue, slowly taking his cock into her mouth and yelping when Sam pushed himself completely into her.
That was it. He was all in.
"Look at that," he hissed. "Stuffed with cock from your mouth to your ass, just like you deserve."
She sobbed softly, eyes crossing, and one of the brothers chuckled.
"I bet it was so easy for coach Dean to get into that pussy," he hissed. "Are you sure she was really a virgin, Dean? Such an easy pussy, can't be this innocent."
Cassandra whimpered, and Dean pushed his fingers into her hair.
"She wouldn't lie to me, Sammy," he hissed. "She's too dumb for that, remember?"
She jumped when Sam pulled back and thrust into her again, balls hitting her wet folds, though she just wanted them to give her pussy any touch or friction.
"I can't disagree with that," he laughed. "Little dumb bimbo is giving her ass to her teacher to get a miserable C."
Cassandra's pussy squeezed around nothing, leaking wetness down to her own thighs, untouched and just burning in need, and she just moaned with Dean's cock inside her mouth, fat length stretching her lips and heavy on her mouth.
"Desperate little thing," Sam pushed his hand up to her hair, pulling on it. "Just a stupid little fuck doll."
A tear fell from her eye just as wetness just coated her more.
"Dumb baby slut," Sam hissed. "Squeezing my cock like that."
"That pussy must be so wet," Dean accused, fucking her mouth slowly. "Do you think she can cum from that?"
The two moaned, and Cassie squirmed, reaching down to try and rub her own pussy, yelping when Dean grabbed her wrists and pinned them down.
"You are a toy," he hissed. "Just a little plaything. "Toys don't play with their pussies."
"I thought you said she was well-behaved, Dean," Sam hissed.
"I thought she was," he squeezed her wrists. "Can't even learn how to be a good fucktoy. Just stupid."
"It's okay," Sam squeezed her hips. "We'll teach her."
She whimpered, crying softly as her muscles tensed as pleasure took over her, crying softly, swallowing down Dean's dick, tasting salt from his precum.
"Fuck, that's a good mouth," her boyfriend hissed. "You'll love to have it."
Sam chuckled.
"What do you think, Cassandra?" he squeezed her asscheek. 'You'll suck me off too? Maybe I can write you a recommendation letter if you do."
Cassandra tried to speak through the cock in her mouth, and Dean moaned.
"What would he even say, sweetheart?" he asked. "Miss Cassandra is proactive. She'll spread her legs and offer her pussy to any professor who'll offer to fuck it in exchange for a mediocre grade."
Sam's finger tightened in her hair.
"She's very good at multitasking," he added. "Can take cock in her mouth and her ass at the same time."
She whimpered, closing her eyes, just completely lost in bliss.
"Her pussy gets wet for anyone who will tell her how much of a whore she is," he continued. "And she loves being called slut."
Their thrusts got harder and faster, and their breaths were loud as they grew breathless.
"And she'll swallow cum like a pro," Dean groaned.
His cock throbbed in her mouth, and Cassie just sucked him more, taking in as he came down her throat.
When Dean pulled away, Sam was still fucking her, so hard that the desk was moving under them.
"And her greatest task," he panted, thrusting into her through the words. "Is holding your cum in her ass all... the fucking... day!"
He stopped, breathing hard, and she felt the moment he spilt his cum inside her, growling and pressing her face to the desk.
Sam relaxed his grip, letting her rest and pant in her place, and rubbed her shoulder gently before pulling away.
"Come, baby," he whispered. "Let's get you up."
Cassandra let herself be lifted and sat on the desk, panting into Sam's neck.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
She rubbed her legs together, feeling completely used, though in a good way, blood pumping in her ears.
"Can I cum?" she whimpered into his neck. "Please, Sam."
Dean rested a hand on her thighs and she heard as he dropped something by her side.
"Of course you can cum, princess," he caressed her knees.
"Do you want Dean to eat you out, baby?" Sam offered, rubbing his nose over her cheek.
"Please," she whined.
Her boyfriends spread her legs, each holding one of her thighs and keeping her open and available for Dean's lips, and she moaned out loud when he licked her pussy and clit, feeling him pushing two fingers into her and bashing her in pleasure.
"Dean," she sobbed, and whimpered when Sam moved his hands to her tits, pinching and playing with her nipples.
"So good," Sammy whispered into her ear. "Baby, you behaved so well for us. Took our cocks so prettily."
She whimpered, panting and crying in pleasure. Cassie had been on edge for so long, she wasn't sure she would take much longer to cum.
"Our perfect little princess," he nosed her neck. "You did so well, baby."
Cassandra cried through her orgasm, shaking and trembling, bracing herself on Sam's shoulders, quivering, and started squirming when she came down.
"Do you want to cum again, baby?" he whispered into her ear. "Dean can make you cum again."
She squirmed.
"It's too much," she protested.
Sam caressed her tits more.
"Just a little more," he kissed her cheek. "Let us make you feel good, baby. Please?"
Cassie panted, clinging to him and practically howling when Dean curled two fingers into her g-spot, sucking on her clit.
When she came again, Sam swallowed her moans into a hungry kiss, resting his forehead over hers as she quivered with her eyes closed.
"Another one," he pleaded. "Give us another, princess."
Cassie cried softly, resting completely on Sam's grip, sniffing as her body just became soft, and he squeezed her tightly.
"Sam," she whimpered weakly. "Dean!"
Dean's lips moved faster, and his big hand held her thighs tightly as he hummed something against her.
When Cassandra came again, he pulled away from her, kissing all the way up her stomach, gently caressing her skin through the aftershocks of her pleasure.
“There you go,” Dean whispered, moving up and kissing her lips softly. “You were amazing, baby.”
Cassie nodded and wrapped her arms around his shoulders when Dean pulled her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and letting him carry her away and into the room they were sharing.
Sam was right there when he put her down, and Cassandra let him wrap a blanket around her.
"How do you feel, baby?" he asked softly.
"I'm good," she mumbled. "Tired."
Dean's lips touched her neck, and Cassandra waited as he wrapped an arm around her body, covering his hand with hers.
"Why don't you have your nap, and then I can cook you a nice and filling meal?" he offered.
Cassandra giggled.
"You spoil me," she yawned, resting her head on Sam’s chest.
"We are your Doms," he pointed out. "It's our job."
She chuckled, burying her nose into his neck.
"Okay," she yawned. "We can do that."
"Okay, baby," Sam kissed her forehead. "We'll wake you up in half an hour, okay?"
"Okay," she mumbled. "Thank you."
Dean kissed her shoulder.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
. . .
. . .
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xamassed · 3 years ago
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⟬ @bucketfullofocs​ ⟭
[Aya @ the brothers] Aya had texted both Beel and Mammon, asking them to meet her in the library. They'd find her in a somewhat hidden corner, facing away from them and towards a table stacked high with colorful manga volumes, taken out of their boxes and neatly organized. Her head was tilting, looking at something she was holding in her hands.
At the sound of footsteps, her head raised and she turned to face them. It was obvious that she had been crying and had since stopped, eye still red and puffy. "Oh, um, good, you're here." Her voice was soft as she spoke. "I... um, do either of you know who bought these?" She gestured to the stack behind her.
She had asked them here because, out of all of the brothers, they were the ones who knew the most. The ones who listened to her stories, her past. The two who she trusted above all others in the house. "I, um, I found them sitting here, and...," she trails off, looking at the book in her hands.
After a moment, she reaches out and offers it to them. Volume 61 of a manga called 'One Piece'. "Well, um, if you wanted to know more about my world... apparently, um, apparently it's a story, here. I, um, I never thought... I, um, I mean - I knew the people on the cover. And, um, and I know people have joked about my world sounding like an anime. I, um, I just didn't expect it... it actually would be."
Did either of them know about the books? She truly doubted it - they would have told her if they had. But maybe they had heard something from one of the others?
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Neither of them questioned the request, but both threw questioning glances at one another when they met in the foyer. The obvious questions arose, but the fact that neither of them new the reason for her summons meant both of them feeling a sharp rise in concern. Beelzebub and Mammon cared for her in different ways, but that didn’t mean one cared more than the other. Quick as they could without the help of their wings, both demons made for the library.
Finding her didn’t alleviate their worry. It exacerbated it, making the pits in their stomachs grow larger and deeper and heavier.
“Uh. . .”
Beelzebub looked to his older brother, but he only shook his head.
“Dunno. Looks like somethin’ Levi would buy, but I ain’t seen ‘em before.” Mammon shrugged and strode forward. He noted the puffy eyes, but didn’t know how to tactfully broach the subject. Beelzebub was equally as lost, but it didn’t stop him from standing behind her. Doubled over, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and nuzzled his face into her shoulder. For once, the older of the two didn’t cringe or demand they quit being mushy around him.
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“They were just sitting here?” Beelzebub kissed once at her shoulder, but let his eyes roam along the stacks of manga piled on the table. The offered volume was snatched by Mammon and flicked through rather quickly. He wasn’t reading it, clearly, but he did skim through the images. He recognized the people inside — the bouncy captain, stony face swordsman, cunning navigator, bastard cook, adorable doctor, wise archeologist, boisterous shipwright and jovial musician — as did the sixth-born. Both felt the oddest chill down their spine when Aya put the truth into words, but neither wanted to believe it.
“It sure as all Hell wasn’t one’a us!” He could say with absolute confidence that this wasn’t their doing. Both were capable of being insensitive, but they both adored her too deeply to consider hurting her this way. It was too cruel for soft-hearted atrocities like them.
“I don’t think it was any of our other brothers either.” Beelzebub countered. “They all like her, and Aya’s been nice to a lot of people.”
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“Yeah, but ain’t that kind of a double-edged sword thing? Some demons’ll appreciate it, but it makes other demons hate ya.” Mammon clicked his tongue and reached up to ruffle at his own hair. “I dunno who thought this would be a good joke t’play, but we’ll find ‘em. Right, Beel?”
“Mhmm. We should ask Lucifer for help.” The hungrier demon squeezed harder at Aya, then moved in to lay a single kiss on her cheek.
“I’ll do it.” Mammon rarely wanted to seek out the help of his older brother, but the idea that he would willingly approach the oldest and strongest about this meant he disliked the idea of someone messing with his sister. If that didn’t prove to her that he cared, nothing would. “Ya gotta stay with ‘er.”
“I will.”
“Ya better. Hey.” He crouched beside the chair and gave Beelzebub’s arm a nudge. He unraveled himself from around her, but only barely. Once given room, Mammon tapped a finger under Aya’s chin and turned her eyes towards him. “Don’t worry, yeah? We’ll get this figured out. Lucifer’s got a stick up his ass a mile long, but he ain’t gonna let someone mess with ya like this. Just gimme some time, and let Beel take care’a ya.”
He spoiled her with a quick kiss to her forehead, stood to clap Beelzebub on the back, then left the two alone. Once he was out of sight, the remaining demon returned to nuzzling at whatever parts of her he could reach. “Do you want to talk about it?”
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munsnz · 4 years ago
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I’m Not A Princess — Cedric Diggory
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Warnings: None!
Summary: You’re a 6th year ravenclaw who lives in the books and studies of Hogwarts. As you pushed yourself to strive for the best for your pureblood famil, you catch someone’s eye, someone who you thought never watched you.
Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader
Note: I no longer write for Harry Potter,, I’m sorry :(
Lydineo Radio: Lovers Do — The Brummies
Masterlist — Requests open !
A mess. That’s what you considered yourself as. As a 6th year Ravenclaw, you seem to have a messy life as a pure blood as well. Your parents set high expectations for you and so you never got anytime to hang out with your best friends, Fred and George Weasley, the pranksters of the school. You three were such an unlikely trio in the school, but clicked so well. It was a wintery day in Hogwarts, a typical day at the library while everyone went to enjoy their Hogsmade weekend. You picked up your herbology and potions books, you walked to the entrance and saw that the library was closed due to a few bookcases being blown up. You knew who did that for a fact.
“Looks like the Miss Know-It-All missed out on her session huh?” A pair of familiar voices called behind you. Fred and George, your best friends since third year.
Hitting both of them with the books, you nudged them, “Stop this! I have to study and my parents-“
You were shushed by George’s finger being placed on your chapped lips, ”Oh come on! You’re the only gal in our year who doesn’t have a Yule ball date!”
Hearing that made your stomach drop, you forgot. Your mom had bought you a pretty silky rose-gold dress to wear, you hadn’t thought much of the event since you were caught up on finishing extra credit work. Realizing, you quickly grabbed George’s hand and asked, “Will you come with me?”
”No luck princess, I’ve got a date,” He shoved your cold hands away.
”I’m not a Princess, George,” You pushed his shoulder.You turned to Fred, but before you said anything he answered for you.
“Sorry love, I’m bringing Angelina,” Fred pat your back, giving a smile, “Maybe Diggory would be your next pick?”
You scoffed at the words at the thought of Cedric Diggory, the most popular Hufflepuff. He was also a Triwizard Competitor, he could never go with someone so..... different like you. You shook your head, “Please, Cedric is so out of my league. You two were my lowest standards.”
”Ouch!” They both synchronized and playfully place their hands onto their chest, signaling that they were “hurt” by your words. You waved goodbye and headed back to the common room where it was your home. As you walked over there, you realized that you were so different and disconnected to the social community at Hogwarts. No one hardly knew you or what you were although you were a pure blood witch with a high intellect. Tears filled up in your E/C colored eyes, dripping one by one, holding your books tighter you sat down in the courtyard full of bumbling first years. They all turned to you and were somewhat feared you. You gave a comforting smile and began your study process.
After half an hour later, you noticed a group of girls as in Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecome, and another girl whom you didn’t know that were cheering her on while they walked towards a group of boys. You had thought Cho Chang was going to the Yule Ball along with Cedric. I mean, she had everything, popularity, friends, the looks, and the smarts. Maybe you have been asked out by two guys, but turned them down due to your lack of studying for assignments. Seeing them talk, made you feel left out. You had been friends with Cho, ever since first year. But when she slowly grew into popularity, she seemed to may have ditched you, leaving you alone by yourself until you met Fred and George.
As you stated at the group, you haven’t noticed that the group of guys pointing at you and laughed. Seeing them laugh at you, made you get up from the bench and flipped them off to run away. You heard the faint voice of Cedric Diggory calling behind you.
”Come on, leave the poor girl alone.”
”Ooh does Diggory like her?”
”Haha, imagine??? Wow look at his standards go down!”
Those words hurt like a buttcheek on a stick (Jkjk), it made you feel extremely insecure and charge towards the hallways to find an empty place. Hearing footsteps behind you, made you run faster. The person behind you caught up at tugged on your thick robes, almost making you fall.
You met your eyes with a chocolatey brown pair. Cedric Diggory, THE Cedric Diggory was looking for you. Avoiding to overthink, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked at your shoes.”What do you need? And for your information, I’m not doing anyone’s homework at the moment.”
”Oh, I didn’t come to ask that,” He let go of your robes that were tangled between his fingers, “I’m sorry about my friends, they just think life is about popularity, and looks.”
Did he pity you? Was he trying to make you feel bad? The thoughts were rambled in your head and you shuffled a few feet away from him. “You pity me don’t you? You just feel bad for me because I can’t be like any other girl in the entire school.”
”What? Of course not,” His voice was gentle yet firm, it sounded like a sweet melody. The words that tumbled out of his mouth were like pretty notes being played. As you wondered, he held out a notebook, full of your drawings. Your drawings. Oh no, you were screwed. He smiled, “I didn’t take a peak.”
”Thanks I appreciate it,” You shivered and snatched the book out of his hands. You flipped through the pages to check if everything’s okay.
“Yeah, anytime.”
There was an awkward silence between the two of you. The sound of the students speaking rang in the empty hallways where you were. The crisp wind blew through your brittle hair, it seemed like the world stopped for the two of you. You breathed and just gave him a small grin. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
A weird instinct came to you to open your sketchbook again to look at your drawings, the papers full of sketches and drawings of people, book, scenery were presented below your eyes. As you skimmed through it, you found a green piece of paper with a strange lettering on top of the drawing of Fred and George.
Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me? - C.D.
Watching the note in your hands, you were shocked and read it about twenty times. You have never talked to him, only once because Cho asked you to tell Cedric something about her reciprocating crush on him. You turned back to see him giving a sheepish smile directed to you.
”I thought you asked Cho,” You began from afar, telling him to walk next to you.
Soon, he catches up to you, he proceeded to talk, “I never asked her and slightly persuaded me to. So I decided to bring someone like you. You’re really intelligent from what I’ve seen and have such a humble personality coming from a pureblood. I really liked you but never got to talk to you.”
Those compliments you were getting made you a tad nervous, you have never heard someone talk to you like that. It made you feel special, welcomed, and warmed. Smiling, you glanced up at him, “Wow, thanks. And sure I’d love to go.”
“Spectacular! Can’t wait to see the Princess awaken in you,” He joked, fixing his scarf being wrapped around his neck.
”I’m no Princess Diggory,” You went upstairs to the Ravenclaw Portrait entrance.
”You will be and you are already,” He smiled as you pat his shoulder to leave.
”Thanks Ced,” You smiled and went inside to your common room. As no one was anywhere beyond your sight, you began to squeal and jump up and down. You didn’t believe it and ran to your room, now maybe these last years of your studies at Hogwarts weren’t going to be so bad after all
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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago
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Young Hearts Divided (1/?)
Pairing: Sirius x reader / James x Female!Reader (this comes later- the tea)
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.6k (she short~think of it as an introduction)
Part Summary: Y/N is a fellow Gryffindor Fifth Year with the Marauders. She has always been close with the boys, especially Sirius, but sometimes they can be bad influences... 
A/N: as always, thank you for reading! If you guys have any suggestions or requests you’d like to see, let me know! I’m down for anything rn :) 
Masterlist
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Late! Late! Late! I’m late! I hurry down the steps of the tower into the Common Room. I suppose this is what I get for staying up late listening to muggle music with Marlene. How kind it would’ve been of her to wake me up too when she probably rose like a peaceful princess this morning. I at least would expect Lily to help a friend out! Nope, instead, I’m sprinting through the halls of Hogwarts with one shoe on, my hair disheveled, and my books hardly staying in my hands. I completely missed breakfast and now have to run straight to DADA across the bloody castle! 
Professor Flitwick stops writing on the board and peers over his shoulder when I stumble into the room. My peers whip their heads back and stare at me like a fish in a bowl. Sirius and James are sitting right in front of me with childish grins across their faces. Sirius starts giggling and Remus leans across the aisle to swat him on the arm. 
Professor Flitwick clasps his hands together with a deep exhale. “Miss Y/L/N, it’s on you to join us. Take your seat,” he instructs, gesturing to your empty seat next to Marlene toward the back of the room. 
“Sorry Professor,” I mutter, swiftly sliding into my seat directly in front of Sirius. 
As I pull out a roll of parchment and get settled, Marlene begins to bombard me with her questions. “Where have you been?!” 
“Sleeping!” I snap in a whisper. “No thanks to you!” 
“Dreaming about Bowie?” Marlene giggles, nudging me with her elbow. “Told you he’s stellar! We should listen to him again tonight!” 
“And keep me up all night?” I snicker, looking ahead to scribble down Flitwick’s notes. 
“You still haven’t heard this one group! My cousin sent me-” 
Marlene is cut off as a crumpled piece of paper hits the back of my head. Knowing exactly who it’s from, I ignore the wrinkled ball on the floor by my ankle to catch up on my notes. Marlene picks up the paper, much to my annoyance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance back at Sirius as she unravels the ball. I continue to listen to Flitwick, hoping he doesn’t write me up for being tardy. 
“Want me to read it to you?” Marlene asks, all gushy with enthusiasm. 
“Does what I say matter?” I sass in a grumble, knowing she’ll read it anyway. 
“He wants you to meet him at the tree by the lake after class,” she informs as she scans the sheet. 
“Can’t,” I answer plainly. “I have potions.” 
Marlene sighs in disappointment, glancing back at Sirius with a frown. On my behalf, she writes down my answer and hands back the note. Turning back toward the front, she fiddles with her quill not even attempting to take notes. I, however, am writing like a lunatic struggling to make up for lost time. 
“Oh come on Y/N,” Marlene whines quietly. Her silence lasted about ten seconds. She tugs on the sleeve of my shirt while glancing upfront every so often to make sure Flitwick isn’t looking.  “You haven’t missed a day of class yet this term! Skipping one class won’t kill you!” 
“You’re right,” I mumble, keeping my attention ahead. “But what if McGonagall sees us or literally anyone else? I can’t get written up again! I’ve been to detention twice now this year because of the Marauders. Friends don’t get friends in trouble.” 
She huffs, dismissing my reason as not good enough. “You’re only young once Y/N! It could be fun!” 
“Why don’t you meet him then?” You suggest sarcastically. 
Suddenly, I feel another tap of a ball of parchment this time hitting my back. I take a deep breath to compose myself. If we anywhere else, even the library, I would probably smack the boy. Taking note of my frustration, Marlene cautiously reaches for the ball resting between the back of my chair and my back. She raffles the paper and skims the sheet. 
“Do you want-” 
“Ugh, just read it!” I bark under my breath, but loud enough for Lily and Alice to turn around in front of me. I mutter an apology and they face forward again. It takes every bit of me to ignore the stifling laughter of Sirius and James behind us. 
Marlene clears her throat, making the duo quiet down. Then, she recites Sirius’s note. “We will not be seen. James gave me the cloak.” 
I snicker, shaking my head at the words. “Ha, yeah okay! How does he plan on making Slughorn not mark me inexcusably absent?” 
“He… um…” Marlene stutters. “Good point.” On that note, she scribbles down my answer and leans back to hand the paperback. 
Sirius won’t have a valuable answer, thus will leave the matter alone. He will enjoy his free period doing who knows what with James while I go to potions. Shall I recall the two times I got put into detention because of Sirius Black? Okay, here it goes...
The first time was really for all of the Marauders. I suppose it’s my fault I’m friends with them. They were out late sneaking around with their stupid map to jot down a hidden tunnel Remus had discovered that day. I played watch and distracted Filch long enough for them to run into the Common Room. What that got me was detention from Filch. The boys felt remorseful and thankful that I didn’t throw them to the wolves, especially Remus and Peter. Sirius bought me chocolates and placed a rose on my bed every day for twelve days until I had a full bouquet. 
The second time was after the Gryffindor v. Slytherin quidditch game a few weeks ago. There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room after the win as per usual. Sirius was drunk and wanted to go for a swim in the lake. I had been rather intoxicated myself, but not enough to jump into a lake filled with all sorts of creatures! Alas, Sirius dragged me from Gryffindor tower and we snuck around the castle to get to the lake. Filch and some of the Prefects were on their rounds, so we had to hide around corners. Sirius would slowly turn the corners first, holding onto my hand to keep me close, just in case. Then, he would glance back at me with a mischievous smirk before booking it down the clear halls. Jump ahead half an hour and we get caught in the Black Lake in nothing other than our underwear by a very disappointed McGonagall, not one of my proudest moments. 
I remember her words exactly. “Mr. Black, why must you pull Miss Y/L/N into your shenanigans? Two weeks’ detention, both of you! You’ll be cleaning classrooms until they’re spotless!” 
The two longest weeks of my Hogwarts career. Well… at some points. Sirius had his moments when he made the hours slip by. There was the time we were cleaning Slughorn’s classroom and had a water fight. We got all of the textbooks wet that Slughorn left out on the desks. Sprout heard us from the hall and walked in on us dripping wet head to toe. Sirius was standing behind me, holding a now-empty bucket over my head. Her face was priceless! 
“Y/N? Y/N!” Marlene pokes my side, snapping me out of my daydreaming. “I’ve been saying your name!” She huffs, holding a new note from Sirius. “What do you want to say?” 
I frown, “what does it say?” 
She rolls her eyes, “I just read it to you... I guess somebody wasn’t paying attention.” 
I mumble an apology and look up at the chalkboard to see that Flitwick has jotted down at least ten more points. I check out for two minutes tops and he does all that?! Forget it, I’ll just copy Lily’s notes later. We all know she’ll have them perfect. James copies her every day during lunch anyway. I sit back in my seat with a sigh of defeat and contentment. I accept my defeat and call it a day. Looking over at Marlene, waiting for her to read me the note again. Impatient, I take the paper for myself and look over it. 
Have Lily tell Slughorn you’re not feeling well. I have something I want to show you…” 
Thinking it over for a moment, I consider the pros and cons. Cons: I could get caught and three strikes don’t look great on my transcripts. I want a career at the ministry, I can’t risk ruining that. Pros: it could be fun. Whenever I allow myself to have free time, Sirius and I have the best time. I mean, even in detention we had fun. He’s one of my best friends here. In fact, he was one of the first friends I made, after Marlene. Leaning forward in my chair, I pick up my quill and scribble down my answer. Marlene peaks over my shoulder, eager to see. 
Okay. 
Keeping a close eye on Flitwick to make sure he isn’t looking, I fold up the paper neatly in my lap. When the professor turns toward the board, I reach my arm behind me, handing the note back to Sirius. While I keep my attention, I feel Sirius’s warm hand glide over mine to take the folded parchment. It lingers there for a mere second, his fingertips grazing as far as my wrist unnecessarily. A faint, uncontrollable smile forms across my lips at the feeling of his touch. Marlene is right, we’re young, I should be living more. I think Sirius can help with that. 
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indecisiveauthor · 4 years ago
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Fact or Fiction || Darth Vader x F!Reader
Summary: An elementary school teacher winds up getting her hands on a mysterious book, which ends up being the reason she is sucked into the Star Wars Universe. Recognizing she is no longer “in Kansas anymore”, she later learns that her life was not what she originally thought it to be. Now everyone is after the most valuable person in the galaxy... Her.
Warning(s): None for this chapter!
Word Count: 1,258
Chapters: Only this one for now!
Date Created: Dec. 10th, 2020
A/N: Let me know if you guys want me to keep going. This was just an idea that popped into my head one day. (Side Note: For those who don’t know how x reader fics work... Y/N = Your Name and Y/L/N = Your Last Name!)
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Chapter 1: The Page Turner
     A red pen twirled in your hand, your eyes skimmed over the last paper in your stack left to grade. You felt pleased as there was nothing to mark, "I'm so glad they're improving." You mumble under your breath. Adjusting your swivel chair, you begin to smile, "This calls for stickers." You look to the side, reaching out to pull the small drawer to your left open. What kind of teacher would you be without rewarding your students with stickers? You grab your sticker sheet, which has a variety of stickers that are shiny, colorful, and some even scented. In the back of your mind, you wished your elementary teacher gave you these as a kid. Once each paper had a sticker, you take the stack of graded work and clip it with a small silver paper clip, shoving it into a vanilla folder that said "finished" at the top. 
     You let out a small laugh at your younger-self, as your thoughts wander. A picture sketched on the top of a paper reminded you of your big plans to become a pet shop owner as a child. You let out a small chuckle, “Little did I know that ‘adopting every single animal in my pet shop for free because I own it’ is not how it works." You glance at the clock which hung on your classroom walls; surprisingly, you still had time to stop by the Library on your way out. You made it a habit to stop by the school’s Library when your work was done. Wasting no time, you began to gather your things, shoving them in a large bag you brought with you to work this morning. Once finished, you turned the lights off and made certain that you locked the door when you left. The silence you witnessed walking down the hall was enough to make you feel rather fortunate. It reminded you of the teachers of your past, who were forced to wear heels as dress code. 
     Luckily, the school you currently taught at was pretty lenient when it came to dress code and the teachers were permitted to wear sneakers and jeans that were of course- in compliance with dress code. You couldn't imagine wearing high heels to school everyday, honestly you could barely walk in heels as it is. You promptly shoved that thought out of your mind as you opened the Library doors, causing a light rush of air to hit your face, enhancing the scent of old books. It was quiet, just as a Library should be. You turn to your right, where a long desk sits, along with an older woman. The older woman you recognize as Lori, looks up from her desk to wave at you. 
     "Well good evening Miss. (Y/L/N)!" She smiles, her eyes a glittering chestnut. Being on a first name basis, you chuckle at her formality, "Good evening Mrs. Davis." You mock her formality in a playful tone. Finding it amusing, Lori rolls her eyes and laughs, "The book fair went very well for your class I'd say." She states, getting up to grab a basket that was full of books. Your eye widen in surprise by how many books were piled in the basket. Lori sets the basket down on the desk, her cinnamon skin looks soft to the touch. You couldn't help but wonder what kind of moisturizer she uses. "Lots of students and parents dropped by to donate books they've bought from the fair to your classroom." She informs, looking pleased. She walks back around to her side of the desk, where she sits on her chair once more. 
     Your eyes meet hers, "Thank you Lori, this is great. Do you think I can find a seat somewhere and sort through these books while I wait for the rain to lighten up? I made the unfortunate choice of leaving my umbrella at home today." You ask with a small laugh, shaking your head at your error. She gives a nod, "Course you can sugar, go ahead and sit anywhere you'd like. I'll be hanging around here for a while anyway." With another thanks, you take the basket of books and decide to sit on the cushioned chair in the back of the Library. "Now... Where should I start?" You hum quietly, picking up a few books and sorting them by genre. Your brows furrow as you pick up an odd looking book, "There is no way this is fourth grade level." You mumble, analyzing the front cover. It was completely black on the front, piquing your curiosity.
    You open the cover, flipping to the title page. "Star Wars..?" You raise your brow. Sure your class likes Star Wars as much as the next one, but there was no way a young adult novel would end up in the fourth grade reading section at a book fair. "Maybe someone was trying to be nice and get me a book too?" You ponder; yet you would be extremely embarrassed to find out that someone outside of your close friend circle knew about your overwhelming love for anything that related to Star Wars. Then another thought intruded, this book wasn't like any of the Star Wars books or novels you have read and you would know! You have read all of them.
      "All of them except this one." You sigh, looking around to see if Lori could see you from her seat. To your luck, she couldn't. So you indulged yourself. "I've already done my grading, I might as well take a break and relax for a while." You shrug, ready to jump into a whole new story in an entirely different galaxy.  "I wonder if this book will finally open the door to understanding the complex politics surrounding Star Wars." You joke, admiring the title page for a little while longer. "As much as I love this franchise, I can't wrap my head around the politics." You finally turn to the next page. It was blank.
"Hold on..." you furrowed your brows, flipping through the pages.
These pages were blank.
     A strange sensation jolted through your body all at once, if someone were to ask you how it felt, you would say it compared to the feeling of when your legs go numb.  "W-what's happening?" You ask no one. Panic sets in as your body becomes paralyzed. Your world becomes just like the cover of the book you opened, black.
~~~~~
     "(Y/N)? Sugar? Are you still in here?" Lori calls out, walking past all of the shelves in search for you. Not a peep was said in return. When she was about to give up the search, the basket she gave you earlier caught her eye. Walking to the back of the Library, she studies the basket and the scattered books on the floor. "A bathroom break perhaps?" She hums. The seat where you once sat was dormant; not a soul was in sight... Not even the little black book was present. Lori shrugs, "I guess I'll leave a note on the door for her when I leave. She'll come back eventually."
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vibraniumwing · 4 years ago
Text
what once was mine.
a neville longbottom x reader wherein the reader catches a disease that everyone fears to get, and when the former realizes what was happening, it was all too late.
WARNING: angst, hanahaki!au, mentions of death, major character death
A/N: okay so this is my own entry for my writing challenge !! the chaotic eggs were talking about hanahaki fics and i just couldn’t shake this idea off. i hate writing angst for this little bean but i JUST can’t let this go. 
prompt: healing incantation from tangled.
word count: 3.2k
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---
Neville walked through the path of what was once his safe haven, the chilling air biting into his skin as he reached the only tree that was in the middle of the vast land that was littered with flowers.
For the beautiful place that once brought him joy, also gave him despair.
---
You and Nevile got along quite well due to the fact that the two of you grew up next to each other and that you’ve always had this special bond over plants— whether it be magical or just the normal kind— meaning that you mostly bonded over tending to the plants at the greenhouse and helping Professor Sprout during your free time. 
He would usually teach you the magical properties of the plants you’ve studied for in Herbology while you teach him certain meanings and symbolisms for flowers that you’ve studied in your free time. 
---
Neville was making his way to the greenhouse when he heard a gentle voice through the window, peeking through, he saw you gently spray the pots of dittany with water as you quietly sang, 
“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”
He mesmerized by the way you carried out the song, capturing him in a trance as you continued to sing and tend to the plant, unaware of his presence,
“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”
Your voice growing more silent as you ended the song, only noticing his presence as you turn around and see him looking at you with a rather dazed expression, amazed at what you’ve performed in front of him.
“Nev! how long have you been there?” You question, nearly dropping the watering can, cheeks flushed at the realization that he heard you singing. 
He smiled at you shyly, “Just enough to hear you sing, why have you never told me that you sing so well?” he questioned, jogging to the door and entered the greenhouse, the smile still evident on his lips. 
You shied away from his gaze, “It just never came up as topic, besides my singing abilities aren’t that good.” you now answer, walking back to the table to return the canister and face him, crossing your arms as you lean on the table. “Now I’m guessing you want an answer to why I was singing to them?” Questioning him, motioning to the plants that was in front of you. 
He sheepishly nodded, genuinely curious at your habit. 
Taking a deep breath in, you started to explain, “When I was young, my mom would always sing me this song when she’s healing the small wounds I would get to distract me from the pain, telling me that this song helps to revive what once was in agony.” You answered, walking back over to gently hold the leaves of the magical plant in front of you.
“Then when I started to grow my own garden, I would sing the song to the flowers in my garden when they would show signs of wilting, as if to help them grow back. It’s silly, I know, but I just believe that it helps them in a way.” You finished explaining, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression, still in disbelief that he had finally caught you.
He looked at you incredulously, shocked that you think he would shame you for such a habit. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing, I honestly think it’s adorable.” tone filled with sincerity as he rubbed the nape of his neck, “I would love to learn that song too.”
That was your turn to look at him with disbelief, did he really want to learn the song because of you? 
A huge grin soon came over your lips as you pulled out a tattered leather journal from your bag, handing it over to him. “I might consider teaching you the song if you learn these flowers with me.” You persuaded him, his hands now opening the notebook to see the hand-drawn flowers you’ve designed on the pages, it’s names and meanings beside it.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 
---
“Hey (Y/N), what do these flowers symbolize?” He asked you one day, pointing to the page that had carnations decorating the page, the name and its meaning missing. 
You leaned over and smiled sadly at the drawing, “Those are red carnations, Nev.” You started off, leaning on your chair as you continued, “You can see that the red varies from a light red hue to a much deeper and rich one, right? Well, the light red carnations symbolizes admiration while the deeper ones mean deep love and affection.”
He eagerly listened to your explanation, nodding once as he motioned for you to finish what you were saying, you bring your hand towards the white and striped variations of the same flower, “The white ones represent pure love and good luck while the striped ones are for the regret of a love one cannot share. “ You finished, giving him an accomplished look as he was amazed. 
“Who knew a single flower and its colors have tons of meanings.” He commented, fingers gently grazing over the surface of the page as he looked at it with awe. 
“Everything has meaning if you look at enough, Nev.”
---
As days passed by, you’ve bonded over the simple journal filled with flowers, spending hours upon hours showing him what they could mean to a person and how you can care for it. 
as the days passed, you also felt your heart slowly sink in deeper into the emotions you swore to never tell. 
---
You were passing by greenhouse when you heard a familiar tune carry out from the windows, stopping by the very last one, you peek to see Neville carefully tending to his Mimbulus Mimbetonia that he bought in that same year, gently watering the plant as he sang.
“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”
Admittedly, his voice wasn’t that good but the tenderness in every word he spoke had you swooning; your heart swelled with adoration as he continued to sing, unaware of how you were silently watching him.
You’ve made yourself content with that, just admiring him from the distance; loving him silently from the side.
---
The two of you were in the Great Hall, immersed yet in another session of flowers and symbols, you were explaining to him the meaning of Camellias when you’ve noticed he seemed to be out of focus, staring off into the distance.
You followed his gaze to the group of students who proudly wore their house color of blue, landing on a certain blonde girl who was eating her food quietly, caught in-between two chattering girls.
Upon realization, your throat started to itch, making you wince at the feeling. “Hey Neville, are you still with me?” You asked, clearing your airway as to ease out on the uneasy feeling stirring inside of you.
He instantly snapped out of it and looked back at you with a grin, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You were saying?” motioning you to continue, eyes now glued to the flower you had recently drawn. 
“There are called camellias. Generally, they would symbolize love, affection and admiration to a person. However, like what I’ve explained before, the colors vary what their purpose.” You explained, hand reaching over to scratch your throat as the its irritation intensified, “For example, red would mean love and affection.” 
Neville silently nodded, not noticing how you were struggling with your words, “and these are?” he asked, pointing to the pink ones that were alone by the corner of the page.
“Those are pink camellias, those signify a longing for someone,” You finished.
“Your knowledge on these never ceases to amaze me.”
---
Weeks passed and the irritation just worsened, confusing you to no end about what you may have eaten to cause such a state. 
Until you were walking alongside with Neville until you coughed, feeling a rather foreign object in your mouth. You covered your mouth and looked at your friend with wide eyes before running to the lavatory, stumbling to the sink as you release whatever was in your mouth.
It was petals, and not just any petals, it was striped carnation petals.
You stared at the bunch in your hands, rather terrified of the beautiful red to white design it had. 
---
Seemingly enough, every time you would cough up these little monsters, it would be whenever Neville would be looking or talking to Luna. 
Your eyes looked at the amount of petals you had coughed up in just a week, filling the little jar you had hidden halfway through already. Everyday would be a new struggle for you as your breathing would get restricted more and more each time. 
You sat by the window of your dorm and watched how the glass reflected in the moonlight, gently shaking the jar as you watch the petals flutter inside the case, remembering how you 
You had some alone time after telling Neville that you would stay back at Hogwarts rather than go down at Hogsmeade, telling him that you were feeling a little under the weather for such activities. 
He offered to stay back but you said no, telling him to go have fun and enjoy the rest of the day, to which he reluctantly agreed to and left with Seamus and Dean.
You wandered into the library in hopes at you would find something that would answer what you had been currently suffering with. Eyes quickly skimming through the various books until you came across one that explained muggle ailments and illnesses. 
Scanning through the pages, your eyes had caught a picture of lungs that were slowly being filled with petals, “Hanahaki Disease...” you read out loud, your head pulsating at the realization of what you had caught, its severity causing you to tear up. 
‘This disease is stemmed from a love you cannot receive back, the petals usually appear from a certain flower and reminds them of the person they hold dearest.’ You silently read, blinking through the tears as your fingers played with the carnations that laid rest inside your pocket. 
“It’s severity may vary from petals to coughing up the full form of the flowers, the only known cure for this is aside from the reciprocation of love is the removal of the petals, however the devastating side-effect includes the loss of emotions for the said person. This is severely fatal for those who decide to leave it be, death be their mark for those who pretend not to see.” you whispered, fear creeping into your mind at the realization if you get this removed, your love for Neville will also leave
That’s when you’ve decided to leave what you have as it, choosing to endure what may come rather than to lose Neville.
Your hand clutched the container as sobs soon followed, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, “I’d rather fight and endure the pain may give me than to lose the love I have for you, Nev.”
and for the first time in what seems like forever, there were no petals that night.
---
You’ve decided to keep a notebook to keep track on the days you’ve survived with this living hell, writing down what happened within your day and if you have coughed up any petals; small bits and pieces of how you adore your best friend. 
You were by the Greenhouse, hugging your cardigan closer to your body as you admired the beautiful flowers of a rather wilted aconite, drawing the plant as you quietly sang to yourself, 
“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”
Bringing comfort to your rather irritated chest as someone joined along, your head whipped to where the sound came from, seeing Neville walk towards you with a rather warm smile, the same smile that you found comfort in, the same one that caused you to be in the predicament that you are right now.
“What are you drawing there?” He had asked, attempting to peek at the notebook which you closed rather quickly. 
You shook your head and hugged the notebook close to your chest, “You can’t look into this yet, Nev. Not yet.” You had said before coughing once more, a single petal escaping your lips. 
He looked at you with concern etched on his face, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’ve been coughing a lot lately, (Y/N), are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry as you nodded, giving him a smile as you held onto his hand.
“I’m all good, Neville, don’t worry. It’s just a cold that’s been sticking around for longer.”
---
You crossed out another date on the calendar you’ve made on your journal, signifying you have yet lived another day with this treacherous disease. It’s been three years since the first day you’ve coughed up petals and you still can’t believe you’ve lasted this long.
The longest record for this was for just 5 months, yet here you are now, marching on your way down to the Great Hall with your heart pounding at the realization that you were about to walk into another battle aside from your own.
As chaos soon ensued, you and Neville were on lookout by the other end of the wooden bridge, on the lookout for the pack of death eaters that were bound to invade the castle that way. You were both staring out into the rather pitch black valley, you were chewing the inside of your cheek as your hands grip on the railing, “Nev, before we both get into this, I just want you to know-”
You were about to confess what you felt for him when a loud rumble of feet interrupted, making you both alert and grip onto your wands as you looked into the distance. You grabbed his hand the moment you saw the death eaters viciously towards the entrance when three of them just obliterated into nothing making the rest halt in their tracks,
Neville gave you a knowing look, a rather victorious smile on his lips, “Yeah?! You and whose army?!”, taunting the large crowd who stopped in their tracks. Yet when a single flare landed on Scabior’s want, you immediately tugged on his sleeve, “Nev, we have to run.” as the death eaters rushed inside the gatehouse. 
You instantly took the lead, the both of you fleeing the bridge while avoiding the spells the snatcher was casting on the both of you while Neville casted a few spells to blow up the bridge. 
You were the first one to the end, watching how the bridge fell as your friend disappeared from your sight, “Neville!” You shrieked, Seamus holding you back as you coughed, your throat not handling the rather strenuous thing.
You struggled in Seamus’ grip, sobbing at the thought that your friend might have plummeted to his death when his want re-emerged from where the bridge cut off, his head soon popping out as he supported himself on the ledge, “That went well.” He groaned. 
You wiped your tears and ran towards him, helping him up as you cupped his face, eyes searching any bruises he might have. “Nev, don’t ever scare me like that again.” You sobbed, not minding the fact that every time you had to take a sharp inhale, it felt like glass was being pushed into your lungs because of the flowers growing within your chest. 
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, breath heaving in lots of air as he felt the adrenaline course through his veins, “I’m okay, (Y/N/N). I promise.” he assured, smiling at you rather happily. 
“Hey I hate to break your moment but we have to get back inside the castle now” Ginny spoke up, motioning the two of you to go and stand up. You both looked at each other and stood up, running along with her into the school as you maneuvered through the sea of students trying to flee the scene.
“What were you trying to say earlier, (Y/N)?” Neville had finally asked, glancing at you as he bumped into another student again, you shook your head, choosing not to speak up about your emotions in a time like this, “I’ll tell you once this thing is over, just promise me you’ll stay alive” You said back, giving him a smile which he mirrored, understanding what you meant.
“Ginny! Neville! (Y/N)!  Are you alright?” Harry’s voice soon rang in your ears, watching how Harry took the lass by his side and looked at the both of you with expectancy. You gave him a mere nod while the other spoke up, “Never better! I feel like I could spit fire! You haven’t seen Luna, have you?”
Harry looked at him confused, “Luna?” “I’m mad for her! ‘Think it’s about time I told her since we’d probably both be dead by dawn!” Neville exclaimed, giving you a small pat on the back as he ran up the stairs.
You suddenly felt your airway constrict more as you violently coughed, hunching over as a bunch of petals escaped your mouth, a bit of your own blood trailing down your mouth as you looked at Ginny who was talking with Harry. Despite the painful ringing in your ear and your ragged breath, you shouted at the both of them, “I’ll go this way! Be safe, the both of you!” before running off into the distance, fighting your way through the crowd.
You didn’t know where your feet would take you as you ran until you reached a deserted hallway, making you finally collapse on the floor as you spat out buds of the beautiful carnation and even the flower in its full form. 
With a shaky hand, you grasp onto in, heaving in your last breath before blacking out. 
---
When you woke up next, you heard a voice quietly sing albeit the hoarseness present in it, you found the sense of familiarity in every word, 
“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine”
The song was cut off by a sob, causing you to stir as your vision was invaded by the bright light, looking down at what seems to be a distraught Neville. “H-Hey.” You managed to croak, wincing at the pain it caused you. 
He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, crying harder as you brought your hand up to wipe his tears, silencing his sobs as you sang for one last time, 
“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fate's design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine”
Tears of your own spilled as you realized that you have finally reached your end, that with every inhale that you took the exhales got shorter. You weakly cupped his cheek, smiling softly. “I didn’t want you to worry so much, seeing you happy was enough for me.” You explained, eyes exploring the ruins of the Great Hall for one last time.
“Because I’d rather die knowing that I loved someone as great as you, Neville. I’m sorry.” your answer cut off by coughing up the final camellia that escaped your system, giving it to him as you softly sang before drifting off, the cries of what once was your first love floating away.
“What once… was mine.”
---
TAGS: @theweasleyslut​ @violetravens​ @eunoia-kth​ @starlightweasley​ @minty-malfoy​ @glimmering-darling-dolly​ @slytherinsunrise​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @dogweedanddeathcaps​ @pastanest​
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crushzone · 4 years ago
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relationship hcs for akiteru 🥺🥺🥺
Hi yes yes YESSS! More love for Akiteru, here we go! 💕
Being in a Relationship with Akiteru Tsukishima 🥰
Let me start off by saying this: if you ever find yourself in a relationship with him, then congratulations, you have very great taste and a wonderful boyfriend. 😘
How it all began:
You met Akiteru at your university. As someone who greatly values academic and genuinely enjoys going to classes, you always wake up a little earlier than you had to, just so you can get a head start. Little did you know that you’d run into the cutest fellow early bird on the first day of your second year.
As expected, the building is peaceful, so quiet, as the only sound are echos from your shoes. But to your surprise, you come across a silhouette of a tall male, sitting with his back to you, in front of the massive window that overlooks the empty university.
When your footsteps come to a stop, he turns to you, lowering the book that he’s holding on to his lap. “Are you here for World War 2 in Cinema?” He asks with a smile.
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His smile widens when you respond with a nod, turning around to fully face you with an arm outstretched. “My name is Tsukishima Akiteru! But you can call me Akiteru.”
You walk up to him and shakes his warm hand, as you can’t help but be infected by his genuine smile and warm demeanor.
Also noting how calloused his palms are. Hmm, what could’ve caused that 🤔
From that day on, you two would come to class even earlier; from 10 minutes, to 15, even up to 20, just so you can chit chat.
He’d bring whatever he thought was cool to show you before class too. For instance, he’s gone thrift shopping with his other friends once, and came across a children dinosaur book. It made him very nostalgic as it reminded him of Kei, but he’s also way too excited to share it with you, so he bought it on the whim.
His friends totally gave him a weird look, but they’re like: ok, yea, Akiteru’s just being hella nerdy. The usual.
You would also bring cool things to share with him before class as well, and it makes him really happy when you do.
He’d come home everyday, since the day he’d met you, with a fuzzy feeling in his chest. So he likes to snuggle his side pillow with his warm cheeks squished to it with eyes closed, day dreaming about you.
In a way, you remind him a lot of younger Kei; when he’d have someone to share his interests and passion with. However, he’s well aware that you are not his brother and that his excitement to see you every morning is way too intense for it to be something that’s just platonic.
Is also a very observant person; if you’ve gotten a haircut, re-painted your nails, or is wearing something new, he will instantly compliment you on that. And the bizarre thing is that he’s not even trying to suck up to you, it’s actually how he felt and his eyes automatically notice new things about you, even if they may be subtle.
He’s usually the one asking a lot of questions; he wants to know more about you, where you’re from, your family, your passion, hobbies.
So you were pretty surprised when you found out he’s on Kaji Wild Dogs Volleyball team. You didn’t even know what a Wing Spiker or anything is because you were never really a big sports fan.
When you frankly told him that you do not know much about sports, but is still fruitlessly trying to come up with questions, just so he can talk about his passion some more, he just laugh, a wholesome grin on his cute freaking face. 😩
“It’s okay, Y/n-san, It means a lot to me that you’re trying to understand the sport that’s meant so much to me, but that doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to speak about it for my sake. I have other passions too, and I’d rather speak about what makes the both of us happy.”
Ughh, like how are you so observant!! It’s the big brother intuition, I tell ya. Since Kei barely communicates with him verbally, he’s gotten really good at observing micro-signs.
Which MEANSSS that this man KNOWSSSS you are into him and that he’s got a chance. Oh yea, he knows bby, and he may or may not have denied it for a day, before he’s like, nah dude, I like them too, so I’m going to go for it.
Your name keeps popping up in conversation with his friends, even without his awareness. BUT if there is ever a chance for him to promote you in a conversation, he will not hesitate, and totally go all out.
He is addicted to your smile, and he wants you to keep doing whatever makes you happy.
Will go out of his ways to support your hobbies; e.g. staying up late at night to brainstorm paper ideas with you, and he’s not even in the class your paper’s for.
Speaking of assignments, you guys are the POWER STUDY BUDDY. Like wow, you know those times when you meet up with your friends for a study sesh, but it turns into a distracting mess. No no, not with you two smarties.
There’s this mutual unspoken agreement, the moment he’s asked you to study with him at the library during mid-terms. You’ll be chit chatting about anything in the world on your way to the lib, but the moment you’ve found your work desk, you’re both completely silent as your eyes skim through the pages of your textbook, while his hands scribble like flaming wheels on his notebook.
The only time one of you would speak is when you’re hungry, and you want to stop by the library’s cafe. He will always ask you if you want anything, even if you already have your sandwich in front of you.
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And even if you’ve said no, he’ll still buy something extra for you anyway, cuz he knows it’s going to be a late night at the library.
Knows your class schedule by memory, will always walk or offer to drive you home. And he’ll always make sure you actually enter your apartment before leaving.
On days when he cannot be there to drive you home because of practice, he can’t relax until you send him a photo of your cat at home or something haha.
He’s basically your main ride for almost anything, including groceries. He just enjoys spending time with you in general, it doesn’t have to be anything grand, just as long as you are with him, something as dreadful as waiting at the DMV no longer sounds as bad. 
There was never really a distinct moment of when your first date was, because your relationship started off with a very stable friendship of shared interests.
It’s likely that he’ll confess his feelings for you even before he’s officially asked you on a date, because you are so comfortable with each other’s presence. And you’re cool with that, you’ve always wanted a relationship with an S/O who’e like a best friend anyway.
When he confessed, he did it at least expected moments. It was when you were on your way back from grocery shopping together, you noticed a cheesy-looking Halloween shop, so you asked him if he’d be down. You didn’t even have to beg, he’s already turning his car around.
Can I also add that he’s a very smooth and calm driver?
You’ll be trying on the goofiest looking costume, and he cannot help but smile at how perfect you are to him. Then it slips.
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You: Look at me, I’m a cat meow meow. Akiteru: *laughs* Wow, what an accurate imitation. You: I know right? I’m not as cute as my cat though. Akiteru: You are very cute to me. 😳
Wow okay, but was that like platonic cute, or romantic cute. You know? Sometimes, people are vague, what can I say. But not Akiteru.
Akiteru: and I meant it. I like you a lot, Y/n-san. He confesses, looking at you with a smile. Like how are you going to say no to that.
Earlier stages:
Congratulations, Akiteru is now your boyfriend. ✨
A lot of the things that had been mentioned above still remains: he’s still just as attentive and observant as he had been from the start.
He has a list on his phone, of all the things you would eye when you go window shopping, the food you crave when you are extra broke that month, and the different things that make you smile so widely, he could’ve sworn your cheeks were about to explode.
He may not be the richest person in the world, but he will go out of his way to bring your cravings/wishes to fruition. For instance, you were craving some vegetarian Ethiopian food, but it was way too pricy for you to splurge, and you can’t decide on just one. Akiteru will go out of his ways to gather all ingredients, and cook everything from scratch, just so you can experience it as identically to the original thing you had craved for.
You also like to cook together a lot, and he’s pretty great in the kitchen. Loves chopping things for you, especially onions, because he hates the way it makes you tear up. 🥺
Calls you pet names that are inspired by all the children books and anime he’d read and watch with Kei, such as “Olive Baby (Olive Oyl from Popeye the Sailor), Dokin-chan~ (From Go! Anpanman), and Lil Tweety (Warner Bros.) ”
He will just text you with “Cuddle Bug? 🐞” and that’s just code for “I want you to spoil me with cuddles right now.”
It’ll usually happen randomly, but you’ve been noticing him doing that a lot after you’ve had a long day at work or after studying. You often wonder if Cuddle Bug was actually meant to be for him, or if it’s because you looked like you needed one. Regardless, you are grateful.
You can never say no to his cuddle requests because he gives some of the best ones you’ve ever experienced.
His favorite cuddle position is when you are laying on his chest, as he bring both arms to wrap around your shoulders, tucking his nose to your hair as he ingrains the memory of your scent to his mind. The feeling of your warm hand on the dip of his broad chest, makes his heart beat a little faster, as he relishes in your presence.
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But on days when you know he needs Cuddle Bug most, are when he’d return to university housing after his visit home.
On those days, he will be the one to lay on your nape, face down, as his long arms wrap around your waist, and underneath the curve of your back. Automatically, your fingers find its way to his honey hued hair, running it through his soft strands, massaging his scalp, as you occasionally brush his temple with your thumb.
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You could’ve sworn he purrs like a cat whenever you do.
When you ask him how his visit home went, he always assures that it went well, but you wonder if that was the entire truth.
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He always seems a little silent after his visits, not being as playful about his teasings, and his smiles being a little less energetic than what you’re used to. 
You were so concerned, you even asked some of his volleyball friends, and all they know was that Akiteru’s brother gives him a hard time, sometimes.
Strange, because Akiteru had only ever said great things about his brother to you: how Kei is a regular player in the team, and that he is killing the game at his blocks. Whenever he talks about his younger brother, his eyes sparkle and his voice booms proudly.
Knowing him, you decide to leave it at that, and not pry further into it. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you himself.
He’ll include you in all of his social events, as long as he’s allowed to, and likes to bring you with him whenever his friends want to hangout.
You felt a little bad, because you didn’t want to take away his guy time, but his friends genuinely enjoy your company. They even ask him how you’re doing sometimes, and for him to say hi for them.
Long term:
Okay, so when I say long term, I mean that it’s past the honeymoon phase.
At this point, you guys know each other so well, like it’s the back of your hands.
You also live together now, in a two bedroom apartment, where you turned one of the bedrooms into both your study rooms.
A very adventurous couple: would go hiking and camping all the time. But he’s also kind of a big introvert, so he’s totally down for chill movie nights at home.
And when you watch movies at home, you both SPRAWL out ALLLL over the couch, doesn’t even matter if you are short or tall, you both will take up every inch of the couch.
He’ll occasionally surprise you with some spontaneous dinner dates at home too, because he knows how badly you wish your cat could join you for all the dates you’ve gone to.
On those spontaneous dinner dates, you’ll come home and he’ll greet you in some nice button ups, 3 buttons undone, black trousers, and black dress shoes. When he draws you in a hug, you can smell the faintest cologne on his neck: a mix of caramel, and something subtly spicy but refreshing.
You also understand volleyball a little better now, and is always there to cheer for him to the fullest extent of your lungs, jumping up and down in excitement every time he score.
Whenever he’s feeling a little too exhausted than he intends to, all he needs is to look over at you, and just like that, he’s instantly recharged as he jumps up and down to your wave with a peace sign.
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Is also not a clingy boyfriend at all, he trusts and respects you, and you are both very independent with your own set of interests. He’s totally fine not seeing you ALL the time during the day, but you ALWAYS make dinner together a thing (or if not, at least you’ll spend one of your meals together.)
He may not be the best at communication, such as when something’s bothering him, but that is just his way of protecting you of his burden.
And being around Mr.Perceptive, had taught you to be one as well. You pick up on subtle micro-signs, such as when he would count the grains of his rice with chopsticks, before pulling one grain to his lips at a time. You KNOW something bothersome is plaguing his mind when he plays with food.
He opens up to you about his past mistakes and the reason why Kei no longer talks to him very much. He’s very bothered by the way his little brother holes up in his own room when he visits, it makes him feel like a phantom, a walking failure that just occupies his parent’s home.
And every time his facade shatters, you instantly pull him into a hug, just the same way he’s always liked, his long limbs on top of yours, with your digits entangled in his hair.
You got him to work on his communication, clearly expressing the importance of it to you. And though he struggles sometimes, he’s still doing his best to improve.
Is a very clean person, kind of obsessed with keeping the kitchen clean; he cannot enjoy dinner until everything is in place.
Not that uptight about it though, there will be days when he lets it slip. But then he’ll be right back at it, after you’ve gone upstairs to prepare for bed: quickly washing the dishes and wiping everything down.
If that is not some husband energy then I do not know what is. 😩🥰
You jokingly told him how sexy he is, whenever he does home chores, and it’s now become an inside joke. Every time one of you wipes down the counter or puts the dishes away, you’ll turn to each other and wiggle your brows suggestively, before bursting into laughters.
At this point, if you were never good at teasing, you bet you’ve improved significantly just from dating him.
You’ll really worry when Akiteru gets home late from practice, so sometimes, you’ll stop by with his dinner to find that he is alone in the gym, just practicing his spikes.
When that happens, he’ll sit outside to eat with you, stargazing. Then he’ll return to the gym to lock it up,
But on days, when you’d stop by to say hi at the gym, in the morning, his team would great you very warmly. They’re pretty much your family now, and you like to host them at your apartment for potlucks.
Now, every time Akiteru visits home, he’ll bring you with him.
His mother LOVES you, she finds you to be one of the loveliest person she’s ever met, and keeps thanking you for taking such great care of her son.
With you there with him, he no longer feels lost when he’s home, he’s got you! And anytime he gets to see Kei for dinner, he’s just grateful.
Speaking of Kei, he suppose he does not mind you. You share a lot of similar interests with him — well, that would make a lot of sense because you and Akiteru does too, and that man had such a big influence through Kei’s adolescence.
Sometimes, Kei will chill with you and Akiteru at the balcony, your favorite music playing softly in the background as Kei watches his brother practice. You can’t help but smile, when you see that the brothers are slowly reconstructing their relationship.
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Kei totally hates how you and Akiteru cheers so loudly at his matches though. Now he has to deal with another person embarrassing him at the stadium lol. (Though he is low key happy you both do 🤭)  
You spoil Akiteru with head massages every night, without fail. And in return, he gives you foot rubs every morning. 
Here’s how it usually goes: You’ll give him a head massage for a good minute, before patting his head, leaning down to gently pucker your lips against his forehead. Then he’d lift his chin with eyes closed, and that is when you’d give him three gentle pecks on the lips before crawling under the covers beside him. “Thank you”, he’d breath gratefully with a content smile, eyes still closed.
You no longer cuddle every night, especially during the hot summer, but you will link your middle and ring fingers as you both drift to sleep, bodies facing each other in a fetal position. 🥺
And on days when he’d wake up before you, he’ll spend a minute studying your adorable sleeping face with a smile. He wants to protect you from the world, to keep you safe in his arms as you both grow stronger together as individuals.
He has no idea how he’s ended up with you, but he thanks the sky every day for granting him your existence. He loves you so much, way more than he could ever put to words. With a gentle kiss to your forehead, you stir awake to see his warm smile, you’ve grown so accustomed to.
“Good morning, y/n-san. I love you, my lil Tweety.” 😘
---------
Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life
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realcube · 4 years ago
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rainy girl || kenma kuzome x reader
summary: soulmate au! kenma finally saw his soulmate in his dream but something doesn’t seem right..
songfic! rainy girl by andrew mcmahon and the wilderness 
tw// swearing, angst, reader death!, (she/her) reader, unedited lol
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.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
‘rainy girl, i can’t wait to meet you.’
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
A smile didn’t leave Kenma’s face that whole day, he had finally seen his soulmate; her beautiful (h/c) hair, her (s/c) complexion and the school uniform with a red tie which complemented her gorgeous figure - unfortunately he didn’t get to see her face though.
However, beggars can’t be choosers. He was just happy to see her, after all these years of waiting and being told that boys usually see their soulmate in a dream closer to the beginning of puberty and he’s a lost cause. On his 16th birthday he was even told by his mother to stop hoping for a soulmate dream because it was simply ‘never going to happen’ and she didn’t want him to be disappointed. 
Kuroo had his soulmate dream when he was 13 yet he wasn’t too infatuated with his soulmate at the time - unlike most teenage boys - but a few months ago he noticed a resemblance between his soulmate and a Brazilian bikini model and he would not shut up about it. What he didn’t know was that the model was in her 30s and it would be very criminal if she was in fact his soulmate; Kenma was aware of this though, he just didn’t want to be the barer of bad news. 
Anyway, more to the point, Kenma grew up around people who had their soulmate dream at a very young age so by the time he was 14, he was convinced that he’d never have a soulmate dream, hence he doesn’t have a soulmate.
So you can imagine the amount of serotonin and relief he felt after he woke up one day and he realised that he did have a true love out there and he wasn’t destined to spent the rest of his life alone. It was as if he finally knew what it felt like to be in love.
Now, he was impatient to meet her - no matter who she was, what she enjoyed,  what she dressed like, what her life goals were; Kenma just knew that he’d love her unconditionally.
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
‘i can’t wait to hear your name, sing it to the skies above.’
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
However, there was a problem.
It was common knowledge that you’d meet your soulmate in dream where you are sitting underneath a tree, your soulmate would approach you and you’d learn their name along with their appearance, then you’d wake up.
But in Kenma’s dream, he was falling slowly towards the Earth with her by his side - he didn’t see what she looked like as the air resistance caused her hair to fly in front of her face and he didn’t learn her name either, all she said to him was, “I hate the rain.”  in the most calming, soft voice.
Kenma acknowledged it was a weird take on the classic soulmate dream as it seemed like he was falling through as endless sky, there was no rain in sight so he wasn’t sure why she’d mention that. He didn’t get to learn her name either but the comment she made helped Kenma give her an appropriate alias; ‘Rainy girl’, cute, right? He came up with it himself.
(’Rain girl’ was a close second but when he actually gets to meet her and he tells her about the little nickname, he didn’t want her to think that it was after a Yaeji song.)
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
‘Rainy girl, wash away my memory.’
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
Curiosity got the better of him so he borrowed a book from the library about soulmate dreams to investigate the causes and/or reasons why his dream was different to that of others. 
And yes, he did try to google it but the people on WikiDreams used big, professional language which he simply did not understand - plus, if his mum sees that he is reading a book, she’ll think he is studying for a change. 
Also, going to the library to get a book was a good way to bail of whatever plans Kuroo had for the pair of them. It’s not that Kenma hated Kuroo, it’s just that the rooster-man was uncapable of shutting up about his soulmate and he would always make the most elaborate plan for ‘guy days’ with Kenma, all of which drained Kenma’s social battery so quickly.
Anyway, he skimmed the index page for a chapter heading which best suited his current situation, “Delayed soulmate dream, no soulmate dream, can’t find soulmate, undesirable soulmate, food soulmate, decomposed soulmate..”  Kenma read the chapter headings aloud, each situation sounding worse than the last - making him feel lucky that he was just a late-bloomer rather than someone who had to watch their soulmate get devoured by a titan during a dream.
“Ah.” He let out faint hum of success as he found a chapter which accurately described his circumstances, “Falling beside your soulmate.” It was the very last chapter in the book and it was very specific which reassured Kenma slightly as it must mean that lots of people deal with/ dealt with this issue, so it’s not like he is a one-off case.
Kenma flipped to the page listed and began mutter the words as he read because it helped, that’s just what he was used to after doing gaming streams, “A dream in which you are falling beside your soulmate to a differing destination is quite rare - out of 1000 dreamers, only 3 are expected to have a falling dream. Studies show that those unfortunate souls who have this sort of dream have a deceased soulmate they have yet to meet and unless they believe in the afterlife, the experience of falling next to their soulmate will probably be the only opportunity they have to meet each other..”
His words slowly drifted off and as soon as he processed what he had just read, he slammed the book shut. Beads of sweat started building at his forehead, his breath hitched and he actually felt his heart tear apart, “I-” He started, choking on his own words as he gulped, having to swallow the air to convince his lungs to take it in.
 “No..she can’t be..” He panted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes both from sadness and the fact he stopped paying attention to blinking as his mind was focussed on the fact he received information that will probably ruin the rest of his life. 
 “She can’t be dead. She- she can’t be dead.” He repeated, pressing the book closed as if there were demons in between the pages - which was hardly accurate as he feared the news that lay inked onto the paper more than he’d ever fear any demon. 
“I loved-” He cut himself off, allowing himself to toss his head back in despair and let the stream of tear flow from his eyes, down his cheek and onto his red hoodie which he bought a week ago, along with 3 other hoodies which he got with the intention of letting you wear them whenever he met you in real life. 
“-you too much.” he whispered to himself, aggressively throwing the book across his room before going to bury his head into his pillow to muffle his wails. The worst part wasn’t the fact he was grieving the death of someone he never even met - it was that he didn’t even get to say goodbye. 
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
‘swimming through infinity, for you will be my love.’ 
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
If you asked Kenma year ago if it was possible to love and cry over someone you haven’t even met, he’d ask you to define ‘love’. 
Now, he was laying on his bed, eyes damp and tear-stained while desperately trying to read over the last chapter of his book over and over again in hopes that perhaps he missed something and his dream didn’t mean what he thought it meant. 
It was no use though, the book kept telling him that his soulmate was dead but he knew that simply could not be the case.
He resorted to the internet again but that far from helpful too; he couldn’t comprehend what most of the articles were on about and as for the studies, they just reinforced the idea that his soulmate was gone. For good.
At this point, all Kenma could think of doing was sleep. Sleep and hope he’ll wake up and realise that this was all just one, big, horrible nightmare. His soulmate will be laying next to him - alive and well - reassuring him that it was just a nightmare and nothing but imagination.
His closed the book, placing it on his bedside table and attempting to pull his blanket over him but it got caught under the mattress so it didn’t pass his ankles. He was way too tired to fix it so he simply glanced at his Switch, wondering whether or not he could be bother to do the chores still pending on his Animal Crossing Island like he usually did before bed.
Today though, a wave of sleep washed over him before he could even make a decision. 
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
 ‘sometimes when i’m falling in my dreams, i can feel you falling next to me.’
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
Kenma’s eyes flew open upon the familiar sensation of the wind lacing through his hair as he fell through the endless sky, his back towards his final destination but he simply couldn’t bring himself to turn around because for now, he wanted to enjoy the sight of the clear blue sky and bask in the feeling of gracefully falling to his doom.
“Kenma!” 
His basking was cut short as he heard his name called from right beside him, so he whipped his head around to see who it was and of course, it was none other than the Rainy girl; his soulmate.
She was also facing him this time and her hair was tied up into a cute, messy bun so he could clearly see all the facial features he once missed out on. Her shiny (e/c) eyes which both had a slightly red hue to them, her flattering eyebrows and her tinted pink lips.
“Wh-who are you?” Kenma stuttered out due to his peace of mind suddenly being ruined not only due to the fact he generally got nervous when talking to girls but also since this girl in particular was his allegedly dead soulmate.
“(y/n) (l/n). I was supposed to be your soulmate but I think you already know why that can’t happen.” Her voice was soft, almost inaudible compared to the loud sound of air resistance burning Kenma’s ear - but he still understood what she said and what she most likely meant by it and the harsh reality made Kenma’s heart sink.
“Oh, yeah.” Kenma mumbled, biting his lip and keeping his voice low to resist the possibility of him bursting out into tears right in front of you - but apparently he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it as you immediately reassured him, “You can cry if you want, anybody would be heartbroken if they were in your shoes.” 
Kenma shook his head rapidly, unable to fight the tears which know spilled from his eyes, the ones which weren’t glued to his face being left in the path above him. “What-” He sniffled, turning completely on his side to look at you, thus he noticed the single tears resting on your cheek. “What happened to you?”
You looked Kenma dead in the eye, admiring his golden irises as you seemed to find safety in them - the scary part being that it might just be your last chance to do so. “Oh, nothing- well, I mean, it was kinda my fault; never walk home on your own at midnight in the rain, I guess.” You stumbled over your words, eyes widening at you remembered the event. 
Kenma’s blinked rapidly, as curious as he was, the sight of you being saddened from talking about it made him realise that he probably shouldn’t pry. “I am so sorry.” He muttered, averting his gaze back to the sky. “So- will I really never get to see you again?” He frowned at the thought, he wasn’t sure how he was able to become so emotionally attached to someone he had only seen twice since he was barely able to chat with his classmates whom he has known for years.  But with you, the words seemed to just pour from him mouth - as if he subconsciously knew that he was free of judgement, no matter what he said; you were his soulmate, after all. 
You giggled, the sweet sound which left your mouth being something that Kenma realised he’d  never forget. “Well, yes, you won’t see me again for a while.” You began, your attitude clearly improved from a few seconds ago as you now wore a kind smile on your tear stained face. “But I promise you, I’ll still be with you - that is, if you want me to.”
Kenma’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, at this point he didn’t care if he was with you in the physical world or just in spirit, he’d do anything just to be with you. “C-could you do that?” He asked, his heart skipping a beat as your soft hand wiped a tear from his cheek, slowly leaning into your tender touch.
 “Of course, anything for you, Kenma. Just please, don’t be sad for too long - I want you to live your life to the fullest! Could you do that?” You hummed, not sure if you were asking for too much as perhaps he now thinks that you were trying to vicariously live through him but that was not the case. Your intentions were just that you didn’t want Kenma to die was as many regrets as you - it was more like advice than a demand but your worried that maybe you didn’t communicate that clearly enough.
“Sure.” Kenma replied, the simplicity of the answer bringing you great relief. “I’ll try--what’s happening?” He tried to add to his previous statement until the speed at which he was falling slowed down until he had reached a complete halt mid-air. Fortunately, it appeared as though you had done the same. “I don’t think this is how gravity works.” Despite the abnormal nature of his current situation which piqued his curiosity, he still couldn’t bring himself to look down. 
You sighed, tugging down the skirt of your school uniform as you tossed your head back in exasperation, “I think you are waking up.” You turned to look at your soulmate one last time, shooting him another warm smile, “This is somewhat of a goodbye, but not really. I’ll always be there if you need me, Kenma.”
Kenma wasn’t sure how that would work just yet, but your charm made him believe wholeheartedly in every word you said. “Thank you, (Y/N).” A grin made it’s way onto his face, it was nice to know a part of you will always be with him. And although was presumably all occurring in his headspace, this encounter will is definitely not something he’ll let his mind forget. 
He slowly began to feel more light-headed and the hand which was resting on his cheek began to lose it’s density along with (Y/N)’s whole figure. Kenma knew he had to do/say something quickly but he had so much still left to ask yet so little time, hence he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind and probably the most important statement he could make, “I love you, (Y/N).” The word felt weird rolling off his tongue so smoothly and what was even weirder is that he meant it. 
“I love you too, Kenma.” 
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
‘i guess we’re going everywhere together, rainy girl.’
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆.
Kenma thought as he woke of from the best nap of his life. 
“Oh, wait.” He muttered to himself as he looked at the time displayed on his LOZ clock sat on his beside table. It was 6 in the morning, probably the earliest he has ever woken up before. 
“I guess there is no harm in getting changed then.” He spoke, picking up an outfit on the way to his bathroom to have a shower. Talking to himself was an embarrassing habit he had developed after doing so many streams and he’s been trying to force himself to stop but now that he knew that you were with him, he felt less ashamed as it was like he was talking to you.
He halted in his tracks as he got to the door of his en suite, her words suddenly ringing in his head as he thought out his plan for the weekend; which would usually consist of: gaming, a livestream, binge eating or no eating, depression naps, watching TV, avoiding people at all costs and procrastinating homework.
“Live my life to the fullest?” He repeated to him, knowing full well what she meant by that but without a single clue where to start - he was sure that something in his daily routine would have to change though as at the moment, even he was aware that he was barely living. If (Y/N) saw his daily routine, she would - understandably - be disappointed. 
“If I were to die tomorrow, what would I regret not doing?” He asked himself in attempt to get the ball rolling with ideas for what to do today. He hummed in thought as he tried to imagine his mindset if he were deceased. As he thought, he realised that there was quite a few things he would’ve missed out on if he died tomorrow but one of them was arguably more important than the rest.
He strolled over to his bedside table, unplugging the charger and picking it up, immediately opening IMessage to send Kuroo a text.
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Kenma sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning on his heels to go and take a shower, expecting to be able to get changed before he getting a response from Kuroo but surprisingly enough, as soon as Kenma turned around, he heard his phone vibrate behind him. 
Grabbing his phone, he clicked the notification and of course, it was from Kuroo. After typing in his password, he read the message he had just received. 
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Kenma smiled, which was weird because usually when Kuroo texted him the last thing he wanted to do was smile. But now, (Y/N) gave him a whole new outlook on life in a few minutes. Now, he actually wanted to enjoy the company of the people that made him happy because if anything, (Y/N) helped him realised that life is too short; also, that he shouldn’t walk home alone in the rain at midnight. 
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Text
A Peculiar Flower
Viorel doesn’t remember much of his childhood personally. His older brother has told him stories of what he was like when he was younger, how much of a brat he was, how demanding he’d be when it comes to food, and other things, but he doesn’t recall behaving as such. He assumes it’s part of the typical banter and teasing that comes with living with each other for quite some time.
It certainly doesn’t help that his unique magic doesn’t work on his brother. And it also doesn’t help that he was only left with some necklace to remember him by after being enrolled into Night Raven College.
With the necklace came a small, old note. The writing in the middle clearly more faded than the rest of it, indicating that someone must have been rubbing the spot on the parchment fondly over the years. Slightly singed at the tip, Viorel read the text carefully.
‘Dearest Viorel,
Please take this necklace as a gift from us. Purple flowers have always been your favorite, and we hope that these would appease you this time. Though I suppose it is rather befitting to favor your kind. Be safe and be good.
- ☲☶’
He examines the accessory, two sprigs of some cool-toned flowers suspended in a clear polymer of sorts, held by a gold chain. The flowers were preserved with the help of magic. It’s one he’s never seen before, and even if he did, he doesn’t speak the so called, “language of flowers” to understand its significance. Not like flora has ever been a common sight to see where he’s from. Perhaps he’ll add it to the list of things he’d like to learn at NRC.
————————————
After a few days on campus, Viorel has managed to find the library. The lack of students surprises him, considering the workload given in his class, though he supposes he shouldn’t have expected otherwise. He wanders the facility before finding a textbook that would aid in his endeavor. Though a book explaining the language of flowers is not available, he peruses a catalogue of all known flora in its stead.
He skims through the pages, taking note and sketching the various flowers and plants that catch his eye with their graphics in his newly crafted sketchbook. ‘I could use this someday…maybe not now, but soon.’ He thinks.
He stops once he’s seen a familiar flower. The very flower that, although not always, has been plaguing his thoughts for a quite a while now. “Sweet Violet,” it says. He takes note of its structure, it’s possible color variations, it’s native location, and the like. But it’s location puzzles the first year. Though he supposes it’s not impossible, pollen could travel to great distances, but given the circumstance that his home land is quite far from its native place…
He rules out the possibility of it being bought, his brother could barely afford to put food on the table all those years ago, so he couldn’t have purchased it overseas. He doubts it was from their parents, though he’s not quite sure, as they couldn’t have afforded to go on any excursions before they passed. Flowers also barely grew in the East end of the Land of Pyroxene, so it was unlikely the flower had been grown and preserved there.
Perhaps it’s not the same flower.
Settling on this conclusion, and no longer interested in thinking too much about the matter at hand, he closes the book, and returns it to the shelf he found it on. No amount of speculation will get him anywhere, he says, and promptly leaves the library yet he finds himself still oddly drawn to the text from earlier.
‘Although not particularly rare; Sweet Violets, much like roses, crocuses, irises, lilies and larkspurs, are native to the Isle of Lamentation, particularly in the colder spots of this region.’
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Mwahahahahahaha, character building— I’m uh, probably never going to make a full fic about Viorel and how he fits into the narrative…at least not now haha. Time is a bit of a luxury for me these past few days.
Anyways, thank you for reading this far, and have a good day/evening.
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