#and i saw another girl who made a comment once i’ve never forgotten that made me feel so insignificant

[peppermintack]

you know what. i went to my high school reunion in an outfit i would never have worn in high school and i talked to people i thought i’d never talk to and i had such a great time

[xtinyslip]

demongemz​:

Will smiled softly he had always loved people who liked animals, especially dogs, so when he saw Kassie light up at his pack he couldn’t help but smile as well, it was clear they were very happy to see yet another person who’d shower them with attention like her did daily. “It’s been a while and what can I say Winston may have told everyone about the cool girl he and I ran into” he mused before waiting, he knew she was thinking about his question glad she didn’t feel the need to just immediately reply with that she was fine when he knew that wasn’t the case. “I’ve been doing alright myself, a little crazy at work if I’m honest so I just needed to take a break so to speak” He mused before whistling for Winston to come running over to give the girl a quick lick. “He is doing well and hasn’t left my side recently, but he has missed his new friend” he mused before chuckling softly “You would be the first person outside of your mother and aunt to have ever called me nice. But you know if you ever need me, you can request me, Not everyone who wears a badge is a good person” He replied before nodding his head “I did, Do you want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener” @xtinyslip​

kassie liked will. it wasn’t as if she had spent as much time around him as maybe she wanted to but he seemed nice. there never felt like there was any expectations with him, like she could just be herself and that was cool. plus, he had dogs and kassie had no idea how much she liked him till she’d met winston. “i am unforgettable.” her comment was a joke, regarding winston telling everyone how cool she was. the truth was, she hadn’t forgotten meeting them either. how could she? it had been a good thing amongst a lot of terrible things that had been happening. “they want your help catching those bad men? the ones with the traps?” it was pretty easy to overhear at the station, especially when everyone had basically made it their mission to act like she hadn’t existed. “you have to promise you’ll be safe. okay?” because her mom had always spoke fondly of him and she didn’t want her losing anyone else. hell, kassie didn’t want to lose anyone else. “hey.” beaming a smile at the dog as he came over, gently ruffling under his chin. “i’ve missed you guys too!” it was true. “but maybe i can help you walk them sometimes?” not that he needed help. “you are nice. i can tell. people aren’t very quick to say good things.” oh, but very quick to comment once someone screwed up. “they would have had to talk to me for me to be able to put any request in.” jerks, actual jerks. kassie, brought her hands together, playing with them nervously. “you won’t like what i tell you. no one does.” @demongemz

xtinyslip​:

KASSIE COULDN’T HELP BUT SMILE AT THE SIGHT OF THE DOGS. even though she’d never really been brought up around animals, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by their presence. there had been so much going on lately, it was like she got over one thing and then another five things grew in its place. no, she wasn’t proud of what had happened with the detective. at the same time… he really hadn’t needed to be such a jerk about it. “will! hey!” she liked him. he didn’t pick at her behaviour or prod and push her about her mother or anything. it was as if she could actually talk to him. of course, her eyes were on the dogs as she watched them, a small smile on her face. her delay in response wasn’t because of those reasons but she was trying to find an honest answer. “i’ve been okay i guess. how are you? how’s winston?” digging her hands deeper into her pockets. “you seem to nice to be a cop.” no, she hadn’t had the best experience with any of them. “… but you heard about that?” about her arrest. @demongemz

Will smiled softly he had always loved people who liked animals, especially dogs, so when he saw Kassie light up at his pack he couldn’t help but smile as well, it was clear they were very happy to see yet another person who’d shower them with attention like her did daily. “It’s been a while and what can I say Winston may have told everyone about the cool girl he and I ran into” he mused before waiting, he knew she was thinking about his question glad she didn’t feel the need to just immediately reply with that she was fine when he knew that wasn’t the case. “I’ve been doing alright myself, a little crazy at work if I’m honest so I just needed to take a break so to speak” He mused before whistling for Winston to come running over to give the girl a quick lick. “He is doing well and hasn’t left my side recently, but he has missed his new friend” he mused before chuckling softly “You would be the first person outside of your mother and aunt to have ever called me nice. But you know if you ever need me, you can request me, Not everyone who wears a badge is a good person” He replied before nodding his head “I did, Do you want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener” @xtinyslip​

[ms-starflower]

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

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

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

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

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

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

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

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

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn���t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

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

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

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

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

[fics-n-stuff]

A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.

[turquoisea]

Family reunion

Pairing: Dabi/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dub-con, Degradation, Brother/Sister Incest, Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, OOC, Smut

Contains manga spoilers. Minors DNI.

Words: 4130

Synopsis: You was kidnapped while on your way home from work. Turned out your kidnapper was someone you knew.

A/N: I don't own any of the characters. Please read the warnings before continuing and we're gonna jump straight to the scene after (y/n) had been kidnapped (because i was too lazy to write the former part OTL)

==============

Unable to escape from the kidnapper’s tight rope around your wrists, you helplessly let him carry you to somewhere that looked like an abandoned building. Not like you could exactly tell where it was, given the fact that your eyes had been covered ever since he captured you until you two “arrived” at the destination. Either had you been able to scream or to call for help, “If you decide to be a naughty little girl and make a fuss, or to even let a single person know about this and hinder my work, I can and I will burn your whole workplace while letting your watch every single second of it.” – the kidnapper had threatened, making panic surged within your body; the only thing you could blurt out to answer his “Is that clear?” was a simple “Yes.” Not wanting to involve any of your aquaintances, you decided to keep your mouth shut the entire time. You thought that it was a better idea to wait until you could learn about what he wanted, his motives behind this before trying to escape.

He placed you down on the floor after carrying you into a small room with the action being a little too gentle for a kidnapper, you thought and opened your eyes only to be met with a pair of turquoise gazes, slightly hidden behind his spiky black hair. Those reminded you of Shouto’s left eye color but they had a rather.. captivating effect, making you unable to tear your eyes off them. More like Touya’s eyes – the recollection passing your mind was quickly brushed off, given the harsh reality that Touya has been dead for more than 10 years. You cautiously opened your mouth to ask, still keeping eye contact.

"What do you want?"

“…What do I want?” He repeated the question before slowly taking off his black face mask. The way he did it was deliberate, elegant even, as if he was putting on a show to reveal what’s hidden behind the mask. In front of you was an abnormal façade: Purple skin lied under his eye bags, his lower cheeks and lower lip, all the way down to his collarbone; connected together with the normal parts of the skin by surgical staples. An audible gasp escaped your throat the moment you realized that the man who abducted you was the wanted criminal you saw on TV.

“League of Villains.. You’re.. You’re Dabi…”

“Dabi? Ah yes, people call me that now. But I thought you would recognize me now, you’re my family after all..” He trailed off at the end, as though he was rather hurt by your comment.

“Family? Stop joking now, we don’t even know each other!”

“You sure? Even when you used to call me Touya-nii with that sweet voice of yours?”

“I said stop!! Listen, I have no idea why you know about Touya but he’s not alive anymore, don’t bring him into this!” Your shaking voice resounded with rage. In the past few years you’d partly moved on from your brother’s death, even learned how to stop tearing up whenever someone mentions him. To say you was mad was an understatement, since the kidnapper crossed the line, pulled out those emotions that you’d tried so hard to hide them away. You couldn’t stay calm anymore. This villain and the audacity to even mention Touya, let alone making such an unbearable joke about him.

“(y/n)-chan,” The way he called your name was too familiar “you still have the habit of defending me after all this time.”

“Wh..What.. do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember? You were always there to patch me up every time I went out training on my own. Those nights that distress and hatred consumed me, you were the only one who was willing to give me a shoulder to cry on, to hear me rant about that stupid family. You were the only one who didn’t refuse to look at a “failure” like me while our father focused all his attention on that “masterpiece”. You made me feel like I’m not useless, (y/n)-chan. Sure you haven’t forgotten, right?”

“You’re.. lying.. Touya-nii is..”

“Yes, yes. Everybody thought so.” He interrupted. “But I escaped from the fire and as you can see,” He raised his hand to touch the staples. “I’m still here. If I’d died in that fire, I would have become a ghost, an evil spirit to haunt the hell out of Todoroki Enji.” The explanation ended with a snort.

But not for you, you couldn’t possibly laugh about it the way he did. You were nothing but speechless. The big brother you once thought wasn’t here, could never be here with you anymore was still alive and kicking. Thoughts of how Touya had managed to live since that day started to emerge your mind and probably because of the invisible connection, the blood connection between you two, you could feel his pain, his suffering, the dull ache that never go away in every single staple on his body… It must’ve been hard for a thirteen-year-old child to manage by himself after crawling out of a literal hell, you thought, mouth still agaped with astonishment. Tears neither stopped welling up, nor did they escape your shiny orbs when you looked at him through your blurry vision. You had so many questions to ask, but none of them could be voiced.

“But that’s the story for another day. Now, we have to celebrate the happy reunion of brother and sister, right?” He interrupted your thoughts before slowly approaching you. His tall body hovered over yours, enhancing the feeling of being small and helpless as your hands still being tied behind your back. He gripped your jaw with one hand, the other started to work on the buttons of your shirt while Touya’s slightly chapped lips met your own in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly turned passionate, sloppy with his tongue chasing every corner of your mouth.

“Touya..nii..” You panted between his kisses, trying your best to stop him from doing what you think he was trying to do. “We shouldn’t.. You shouldn’t do this.. We’re siblings..”

“Ah yes, you’re my favorite sibling after all, one more reason why we should do this, right?” His stapled mouth stretched into a huge grin, then he leaned back to take in the view of your body.

“My little sister has grown up.. To be honest, I didn’t have any of these dirty thoughts when we were children but now, I just want to fucking ravish you until all you can think of is me and my cock.”

His dirty talk sent a shiver thorough your body and you started to feel heat coiling up in your core. As if amused, turned on by your reaction, Touya grabbed one of your breasts and gave it a squeeze, causing a soft moan to escape your pump lips.

“What was that? Don’t tell me (y/n)-chan is aroused by her very own brother, hm? I’ve been stalking you for a while, my little sister. ‘Twas hard to find you since you don’t live at that house anymore. Can’t believe behind all those innocent act is a little whore who gets aroused easily by her Touya-nii.” He spat out, specifically emphasized the phrase you used to call him. Blue eyes looking down at you as if you were indeed what he said – a slut waiting to be bred.

“Touya-nii.. Please stop it.. I don’t want this..” Looking up at him through your wet lashes, you said with a whimper, begging him to stop.

Little did you know it had no such effect for Touya. Seeing your vulnerable face in a helpless state only boosted his ego; he felt as if he was the only one you could rely on, the only one who was able to decide your fate and damn, he could never get bored of this.

“What a pity, (y/n)-chan, because I, in fact, DO want this.” Touya murmured between kisses, leaving red spots blossoming all over your breasts, your shoulders, your collarbone. “Don’t you want to make your Touya-nii happy (y/n)-chan? You see, there hadn’t been a single day in which these staples stopped hurting me whenever I move. My tear glands were burned ever since the fire. I couldn’t cry because when I do, it hurts and blood flows out of my eye bags.” His fingers indicated the purple skin underneath his eyes as he continued. “I've lived with emotional numbness ever since. Your big brother doesn't feel anything anymore, (y/n)-chan..” Touya trailed off.

“But you, the only one who didn’t refuse to look at me... Having you here with me really makes me happy, and the kind little sister I know wouldn’t want to take that happiness away from me right?..” Turquoise orbs looked up at you through black strands of hair. As if wavering, as if pleading, as if he was asking you for your consent.

All to hide the fact that he guilt-tripped you into this.

And with him being a quick-witted, perceptive man, Touya’s tactics were never fruitless. He could tell your conscience would be troubled if you’d turned him down, especially when he phrased the words like that. He took advantage of the shocking state you were in, making you feel pity for him and overlook his immoral behaviours.

Touya waited with bated breath, eye contact still maintained.

“I..I want Touya-nii to be happy..” – your reply after a moment of thinking only caused a chuckle to escape his mouth and it’s almost like this was all he had been waiting for, all in his anticipation. This was the exact reaction that Touya wanted and as your best big brother ever, he couldn’t possibly put off anymore without his hands as your bra, nor could he wait any longer to secure this “happiness”.

“Knew my favorite sister would say that.” Touya couldn’t hide his triumphant expression when he quickly made his way down to your skirt, lifting it up so he could see what’s underneath. Gently, he palmed your groin before dragging his middle finger between your clothed slit only to find that your panties was already soaked.

“Oh? I already knew you were a whore behind your innocent façade but didn’t think you would be this shameless.. Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “Getting all nice and wet for your own brother. You said you wanted to make me happy but in truth, you just need to feel nii-san’s cock inside your hole right? Shameless slut.”

You groaned in exasperation and opened your mouth to protest but before you could even say anything, he ripped your white panties apart, making you squirm in awe. The rough pad of his thumb dragged over your clit while his knees spread your legs wide and held them in places. Touya’s finger slowly rubbed your clit in a circular motion and you couldn’t help but wanting more of those frictions, your hips involuntarily bucked forward.

“I was going to eat my favorite little sister out, but it seems like you can’t wait any longer huh? Look at this little pussy..” He said while using his index and middle finger to swipe at your entrance, gathering your juices on them, his eyes didn’t miss the way it clenched around nothing. “You must be so, so desperate to feel anything inside your pathetic hole, right? Will my fingers be enough to satisfy it?”

“Touya-nii..”

“Don’t be vague, (y/n)-chan. Sure you don’t want to hump a pillow like a dumb slut with her hands still tied while watching me masturbate to the sight of you right? Because if you don’t use your words now, I might let us do that for real.”

“Please, Touya-nii, I don’t want to! I want.. to be filled up by you instead..”

Upon hearing your words, Touya started palming the large bulge of his pants before unzipping the fermeture, gently pulled his boxer down to show you what’s underneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of Touya’s veiny cock. It was not as big as what you usually see on movies (not that you don’t know the porn industry isn’t anywhere near realistic), but rather thin and long as it was hard, practically throbbing in his palm whenever he stroked the shaft. However, what made you surprise was the shiny Prince Albert piercing located on the glans, signaling a hard time in the near future for your cervix.

Seeing your face expression only made Touya’s smirk grew wider and he looked like the cat that got the cream when he continued making you use more of your words, making you beg for his cock.

“And you want to be filled by what?”

As hesitant as you were after seeing his cock piercing, the way his fingers ignited sparkles of fire inside your core had your pride, your uncertainty wavering. You’d rather be fucked until your mouth can’t even form a coherent sentence than be left naked and needy while watching him masturbates until he cums anywhere that’s not inside your pussy. So you used your words, like a good girl should.

“By your cock, Touya-nii! I want you to fuck me hard!”

“Sure thing, my cute little slut.” He cooed. “Who am I to refuse to give my sister what she needs? I’m a good brother after all.”

And as a “good” brother he was, Touya even slide his fingers inside your wet pussy to prepare you for his cock. Despite having a fire quirk like your father, his fingers were cold and were only warmed up by the heat inside your core. They smoothly pumped into you, scissored you open, sometimes even curled up on purpose only to slightly brush against your soft spot, leaving you wanting more. His other hand found its way again on your clit, rubbing and circling along with his continuous fingering until you were nothing but a moaning mess, begging for your release.

He decided that he’d prepared you enough and retreat his fingers just before you could reach your climax. You whimpered loudly when he took the orgasm away from you, legs instantly wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. You had never felt this touch-starved before and all you could think of was only your Touya-nii, his captivating blue gazes, his touch, his voice and his pierced cock that somehow fits perfectly on his slim but toned body. You needed to feel him and you clumsily rubbed your pussy against Touya while trying to break free from the ropes tying your wrists together. But all that you could do wasn’t near enough so you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Touya-nii.. Please.. Please give me your cock.. I can’t take it anymore, I need your cock inside me..”

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.” Touya sneered as if he wasn’t the one who purposefully denied your orgasm before holding his cock, rubbing the swollen red tip at your entrance, feeling your juices mixing with beads of his precum then thrusted it all the way in. You both winced the moment you and your brother became one: you from the depth that his cock could go and him from the way your walls clenched around it.

“(y/n)-chan.. Your little pussy feels so tight.. Not that I mind how many people you slept with but damn.. This pussy's a keeper for sure..” Sighing with a shaky voice, he pulled out slowly only to slam back in ruthlessly. His hands used the dagger from before to release your aching wrists then started to rub small circles on them as if to soothe the pain. With your hands now free from bound, you wrapped them around Touya’s neck to pull him even closer, your lips moved under his to meet them in a kiss.

"Touya-nii.. Please move.." After a moment long enough for your pussy to stretch to his size, you broke from the passionate kiss to whisper to him; your tongue softly licked his lower lip, feeling the rough texture while your pussy clenched around his cock. You lifted your hips, inviting your big brother to bury his hot member deeper into you.

"Eager, aren't we?" To your plea, he only chuckled before moving his hand to grab a handful of your tits, squeezing the soft mound, toying with your swollen nipple. "Your wish is my command, my baby sister. Nii-san's going to make you feel really good now." His voice sounded so sensual when he moved his mouth close to your ear, whispered honeyed-words then nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to clench your pussy even more.

Touya's hands traveled down to grab both of your asscheeks, held them tightly in their places before he started thrusting his pulsing cock. "So good.. Touya-nii.." You moaned in rhythm with his hips whenever he bottomed out inside you; his cock piercing rubbed your walls every time he moved. The friction felt heavenly that you could feel your legs started to shake as if you couldn't control them anymore. He was different. His cock was different from anything you'd ever experienced. Touya filled you up so well, both physically and emotionally, making you feel good, feel loved, making tears well up in your eyes.

He let your legs rest on his shoulders as he continued claiming your pussy to himself, each thrust was hard and deep 'til the point that Touya's tip touched your cervix whenever he sheathed his full length in you. It hurt, but it hurt so good that not only did you not want it to stop, you wanted more and more of him, you wanted to indulge longer in this sinful pleasure.

"Fuck.. You're so tight around me.." He groaned as his pace became faster. A hand retreated from under you to hover above your neglected clit before he started stroking it softly, rubbing back and forth, drawing repeated circles onto your bundle of nerves.

Touya didn't leave anywhere on your body untouched: your tits, your belly, your inner thighs, your asscheeks, your clit, your core. His name fell out of your lips between heated moans like prayers and the pleasure kept building up that you felt like you're about to burst into bliss. Everything was so intense and you started to you wonder, is it because he denied your orgasm before or because his cock could actually bring you heaven? Those thoughts crossed your mind but you didn't know the answer. He'd fucked you dumb and now you couldn't think of anything else other than him and the tension deepening in your lower belly.

"Touya-nii.. 'M wanna cum.. Please.. Please let me cum.." You whined when you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, afraid that he would deny it again if you don't beg.

"Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you. And you should be.. Fuck.. grateful that I let you do it.." He didn't stop his assault on your clit as he railed you hard and fast, his thrust grew sloppier when your pussy clamped down on him. Wet noises echoed in the abandoned building along with your whines and the moans that Touya tried to hold back.

"Thank you.. Thank you Touya-nii.. for letting me cum.." was all you managed to choke out before you threw your head back, eyes squeezed shut causing tears of pleasure to fall out and your pussy clenched around him as you released your pent-up pressure.

"Attagirl, nii-san loves you.. Gonna officially mark you now, 'mkay? Gonna breed this little sister's pussy, gonna fill you up with my cum and put a baby in you.." Touya leaned over to whisper into your open mouth, planting chaste kisses all over your face while sloppily humping your body like an animal. You could feel him burry himself deep inside you when his brows furrowed and he muttered "Fuck" before Touya came inside your pussy. His thick ropes were hot as they spilled into your womb, painting your walls with his colour.

A moment passed with nothing but pants as you both tried to regain your breaths. You closed your eyes, basking in the afterglow with his cock still plugged in when you heard the clicking sound of a camera. Your eyes immediately shot open only to find Touya holding his phone in hand.

"Touya-nii.. Did you just.." You warily asked.

"Oh? Did I forget to tell you?" Touya casually looked up from his phone, a smirk tugged at the corner of his stapled mouth and he suddenly looked so strange, as if the person in front of you and the one who just came inside you was two different people.

"You see, there are two possible ways to completely break Todoroki Enji." He began explaining, his voice distant. "One, is to kill his masterpiece Shouto right in front of him by the own hands of his 'failure'."

"And two," His eyes locked with you as his smirk grew wider. "is to let him see his pure little angel being corrupted by the abandoned son." Touya finished his short speech, his hips pulled back so his now limp cock fell out of you with a wet pop. White cum slowly dripped out of your used pussy, all captured by the camera again.

You could see the flame of anger burning in his eyes when he mentioned your father's name and the tone of disgust in his voice when he spoke lowly of himself. There were so many problems that you didn't know where to begin with. All you could do was hang your mouth open, speechlessly watched him typing something on the phone.

"There, all done." Touya cheerfully informed. "Don't worry a thing, my baby sister, no one will get to keep those pictures except for me. I sent them to the old man using Vanish Mode, he'll see them for a few seconds before they disappear forever, just like how his little angel vanish from his life. Oh how I wish I could see his expression when he opens my messages."

You were absolutely stunned. You never thought your dead brother was able to come out alive, let alone to even have a detailed plan to destroy your father's mentality. There were so many things that your mind couldn't process in an instant.

"So you.. So you fucked me just for this?.." Your voice came out shakier than you expected. Your hands unconsciously moved to cover yourself as you hugged your own body, the world starting to crumble in your eyes.

"Partly, yes. But I wasn't lying when I said I love you." Touya planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

"E-Enough with all of this. I'm going home!" You raised your voice and wriggled out of his touch.

"Can't let you do that (y/n)-chan. The world doesn't know me as Touya, you're the first, the honorable one. Can't risk you leaking my secret right? And I plan to torture old man's mind repeatedly with more images of you, just like how he projected everything onto me when I was young." He tilted his head and laughed, and suddenly you couldn't tell whether his laughter was genuine or was an act of mockery. Probably both.

"Besides, I'm a little.. disappointed that my favorite sister actually wants to part so, so soon, especially when we just had a rather.. emotional family reunion, no?" His mood seemed to light up as he continued speaking.

"What.. do you mean by that? Just let me go already! I promise I won't tell anyone!" Tears started to form in your eyes as you slowly realized what the man meant. You were uncomfortable with the room's atmosphere; it's overwhelming you and you didn't want to stay any longer. You looked behind him, trying to figure out an escape path.

"Now, if you wanted to go so badly," - your actions couldn't escape his perceptive eyes - "I'm gonna escort you to a better place, 'mkay? They're gonna track down this place soon enough since I texted him with my phone. But don't you worry, nii-san won't let anyone hurt you, my (y/n)."

Touya had an almost-innocent smile when he approached you with his arms open, as if waiting for you to give him a hug. You backed away, but as stubborn as this Capricorn man was, he still wrapped his arms around you.

Ever since your childhood, Touya's body was warm, Touya's embrace was always comforting. But now, everything he did chilled you to the bone, making you start to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly you felt a sharp prick on your skin; followed by your consciousness slowly slipping away. Your vision started to grow blurry and all you heard before you drifted off was his voice, whispering to your ear.

"Now we won't be alone anymore."

The End.

A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed it! English isn't my first language so please be gentle with me QwQ. Thanks for reading!

[avnkin]

Not What It Seems ( d.m )

Summary: Draco starts spreading rumours about you and you demand to know why.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k ish

Warnings: angst and draco being mean

Author’s Note: here’s my first draco fic!!! i’m currently working on 4 others, one series, two requests and a one shot that i’m 8k words deep into,, please continue sending in requests i love hearing your ideas and writing them out!<3 PSA I wrote this in like an hour so it’s not my best work lmao I just wanted to post something since i’ve been so inactive (not my gif)

You and Draco had always had a sort of rivalry going on between the two of you. Everyday in class he’d throw a snide comment directed your way which you’d send right back with a remark of your own.

Everyone had gotten used it by now the teachers hardly bothering to intervene whenever you two were having one of your ‘arguments’ in class.

It had been a monday when the rumours had started. You’d been walking to your charms class when you noticed the abnormally large crowd of Slytherin girls stop and stare when you walked past, whispering in each other’s ears while they not so subtly pointed at you.

You’d thought nothing of it since most of those girls hated you and made damn sure you knew it so that wasn’t anything new, but the stares and giggles had continued on for the rest of the day and not just from the Slytherin’s but the other houses as well, what the hell was going on?

When you’d finally made it to your last class of the day you’d grown fairly sick of it. Hermione had taken a seat next you which was when you knew something was definitely up since she always sat next to Ron and you to Harry.

She’d given you a worried glance which you’d returned with one of confusion.

“Why is everyone acting so weird?” you finally asked noticing the lingering stares from your fellow classmates who quickly looked away whenever you made eye contact.

“I was actually coming to see if you knew” Hermione had hesitantly replied, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.

“Knew? knew what” you inquired feeling the tiniest hint of nerves as you watched Hermione bite down on her, lip carefully contemplating her next words.

“There’s been this rumour... about you” Hermione cautioned, it was obvious she didn’t feel comfortable telling you this but you didn’t care continuing to press on her. 

“What rumour?”

“Well it’s just people have been saying that you’ve been- uh sleeping around” she spoke the last part of her sentence quietly as she looked down onto her lap “please don’t think I’m judging you, I would never do that what you do in your own time is entirely your business and no one else’s, it’s just to bad nobody at this school seems to be familiar with the word privacy- but anyways, I just wanted you to hear it from me rather then anybody else”

Your eyes widened at her words and you suddenly became very aware of the students that we’re still staring now knowing what they were thinking made it ten times worse.

“What? why would anyone think that” your voice wavered even though you felt like you knew exactly who had started the rumour, Malfoy.

He’d seen you with a fellow Slytherin boy the other night, you knew that because you’d made very awkward eye contact with the platinum blond once you’d entered they boys dormitories.

It hadn’t been anything like everyone seemed to think, but you couldn’t go telling people that you were sneaking around with a boy who was helping you cheat on your tests.

You hadn’t been doing well in school so you saw no harm in paying someone off to do your homework or work on spells that would enable him to talk to you during tests and tell you the answers. Your family was wealthy which was why you knew they wouldn’t question the missing money.

You figured that Draco had been watching you whenever you’d sneak into the Slytherin common room but decided to keep it to himself until today apparently.

When he walked into the classroom accompanied by his usual entourage, you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster which he only replied too with a wink.

It infuriated you that he’d been spreading such lies about you, who did he think he was? Even if you had been sleeping with the boy it wasn’t his or anyone else’s damn business.

Since the teacher had yet to arrive you angrily stood up stomping towards Draco, wanting to get more than a few things off of your chest.

When you finally stood in front of his desk you slammed both your hands down on the wooden surface causing him to turn towards you leaning back in his chair his signature smirk resting on his lips.

“Anything I can help you with Y/L/N” his voice was smooth, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, asshole.

“You can stop telling lies about me for starters” you chided, rolling your eyes once you heard the ‘oh’s’ from around you, clearly you’d caught the attention of the rest of the class.

“They’re not lies and you know it” he challenged now sitting up fully in his chair.

“Yes they are and why do you even care Malfoy? Are you jealous” that sentence seemed to throw him off as he uncomfortably shifted in his chair his body language changing in mere seconds.

That’s when you realized you’d hit a soft spot, smirking before continuing “oh I get it, that’s it, you’re in love with me aren’t you” you teasingly pouted leaning forward on his desk to rest your chin in your palm smiling innocently up at him.

A bright pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he took in a deep breath giving you a warning glare which you ignored even though you knew you were skating on thin ice.

“Poor Malfoy can’t even get the girl he likes”

That’s when he seemed to snap, quickly getting up pushing the chair from behind him causing it to almost fall to the floor but Zabini’s arm had caught it just in time.

He placed his fingers on the desk in front of him, all embarrassment seeming to fade off of him as he looked you up and down, his signature smirk now back on his lips.

“Believe me Y/L/N, I don’t want you and neither does anyone else so any guy who says he’s interested in you beyond just fucking you is full of shit”

You’d been expecting him to say a lot of things but not that. You stood frozen for a couple of seconds, this was probably the first time you couldn’t come up with anything to say.

His words had cut deep and the chortles from the students around you weren’t helping at all. You felt tears beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes but you didn’t dare let them fall, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt so you just shook your head before heading straight for the exit of the classroom.

“That was a low blow Malfoy, even for you” Hermione glared at him before hurriedly standing up and following you out into the hallway.

Draco didn’t melt into the cheers and laughter of his friends like he usually did, instead he sunk into his seat ignoring everyone around him.

He knew what he’d said wasn’t true but he’d been so blinded by jealousy when he saw you enter another boys dormitory that he’d gone to Blaise and told him that he wouldn’t be surprised if you would have gone through the entire Slytherin house by the end of the term.

He truly didn’t know why he did it and a sudden guilt creeped onto him as flashes off your hurt face lingered in his mind.

Tears were now fully falling down your cheeks, you felt embarrassed and humiliated, he’d given all the students yet another thing to gossip about without a care in the world.

“Y/N!” Hermione’s voice sounded from behind you causing to you quickly stop and turn around gladly accepting the comforting hug she engulfed you in as soon as she reached you.

“He’s full of shit Y/N don’t you dare let someone like him be the cause of your tears. You are so much more than his stupid comments believe me” you nodded letting her wipe away your tears.

You stayed out in the hallway for a couple more minutes but when you saw professor Snape walking past you, you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for being late as well so you and Hermione quickly followed after him.

As soon as you walked into the classroom all eyes were on you but you ignored them keeping your head held high as you walked back to your seat not daring to look over at Draco.

After class had finished you felt much better having spent your time with ‘the golden trio’ letting them cheer you up, your embarrassment long forgotten as the four of you made your way into the Great Hall for dinner.

You’d been walking behind them having been to caught up in your own thoughts when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist pulling you into an empty corner of the hallway along with them.

You let out a yelp as you were pressed against a wall a hand coming up to cover your mouth. You quickly looked up at your assailant only to be met with a pair of grey eyes you weren’t expecting to see, Draco.

“Calm down it’s just me”

You immediately pushed him off of you “Is that supposed to make feel better? God you’re such an arse” you scoffed attempting to walk away from him but he grabbed your arm again pulling you back in front of him.

“Y/N please hear me out” he pleaded, the mention of your first name startling you a bit, not once in all your years at Hogwarts had he called you Y/N.

“Y/N huh, that’s new” you folded your arms over your chest glaring up at him.

He ignored your words as he fiddled with his fingers clearly trying to think of an apology good enough for what he had said earlier.

“Shit, Y/N- I mean Y/L/N, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said that it was stupid, I-I hope you know I don’t actually think that, It’s just when I saw you with him I got so mad, I don’t know why I-I didn’t mean it-“

“You didn’t mean it? Well that sure as hell didn’t stop you from saying it in front of the entire bloody class” you cut him off now resting your hand on your hip.

“I know, I- I don’t know what to say except that I’m really sorry” he shook his head before he turned to walk away from you, but just as he was about to round the corner you called out after him.

“I’m sorry for what I said as well”

He stopped dead in his tracks before slowly making his way back to stand in front of you, you were now very much aware of how close the two of you were and you almost invontarily backed into the stone wall causing him to take another step towards you.

“Well you weren’t exactly wrong”

“Oh so you were jealous” you teased looking up at the platnium blond who already had his eyes glued on you a small smile resting on his lips

Instead of answering he surged forward pressing you even harder into the wall, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips connected with yours.

Your eyes widened at his actions as you stood frozen against him which he seemed to notice after a couple of seconds quickly pushing himself off of you.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” you cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet your lips again.

He hungrily kissed you back his arms wrapping around your torso before travelling down to your hips pulling you even more into him.

“What on earth is going on here” professor McGonagall’s voice suddenly sounded from beside you causing the two of you to quickly jump away from each other.

“Oh- uhm sorry professor we were just- uhm” you tried to come up with an excuse turning your head towards Draco hoping he would help but he just stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Detention, both of you for the next two weeks”

[nikethestatue]

La Dolce Vita

Summary: Elain Archeron and Azriel - in love, in lust, in Italy

Modern AU *slight TOG crossover. If you read my stuff, you know it’s LONG

Warnings: bad language and THIS IS NSFW (not kidding, this is a story, not just sex, but there is a LOT of explicit material here. You can still read the story, but if you are sensitive or underage, skip the naughty bits)

Comments are always appreciated/wanted/needed. Anon or not, just do it! Obviously, reblogs are appreciated. 

Part I (Flowers)

 La Vie En Rose

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens (Of the man to whom I belong)  Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle l'a tout bas (He speaks to me softly) Je vois la vie en rose (And I see life in pink) Il me dit des mots d'amour (He speaks words of love to me) Des mots de tous les jours (They are every day words) Et ça m' fait quelque chose (And they do something to me) Il est entré dans mon coeur (He has entered into my heart) Une part de bonheur (A bit of happiness) Dont je connais la cause (That I know the cause of) C'est lui pour moi (It's only him for me) Moi pour lui dans la vie (And me for him, for life)

Now

Riding in a Ferrari, being enveloped in its supple, buttery leather, gulping in the cypress and cedar-scented air of Tuscany was everything that Elain Archeron had ever wanted. She never knew that this is what she wanted, because riding in very fast, very expensive, sleek Italian cars wasn’t on her ‘fantasy radar’, but now that she was in one, she suddenly came to the realization that this was perhaps one of the best experiences of her life.

The whole thing, so far, has been the best experience of her life.

Well…maybe not the best-best.

Her happiness was deeply intertwined with and caused by the man in the driver seat of the said Ferrari—Azriel. Azriel Archeron, as he loved calling himself. Even if this wasn’t his last name, he preferred using it over his family name, for a variety of personal reasons. There was nothing better, more sublime, more beautiful and more loving than Azriel. The perfect male specimen, if she could say so herself. No one would argue with her assessment either.

Elain

 They were introduced by her sister’s then-boyfriend Cass, who was giving her a lift one afternoon, and then suggested that they stop by Azriel’s car atelier, because he needed to pick something up.

Elain’s heard of the mysterious Azriel from her sisters, both of whom had claimed that he was the most handsome man that either one of them had ever seen. Elain chuckled at the exuberant praise, doubting its truthfulness. There was no such thing as the ‘most handsome’ man. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder.

She wasn’t sure what a car atelier was, and when Cassian pulled up to a modern-looking building, she said that she’d stay in the car and wait.

“Come on, petal, don’t be shy,” Cassian urged her, holding the car door open for her in a way that indicated that she’d have to get out and follow him.

They entered the foyer, a vast space with racing stripes painted on the polished cement floor, and a sea of model cars dropping from the ceiling. Behind a wall of glass, Elain spied a row of gorgeous cars, none of which were familiar to her. Some unique European models, fit for James Bond’s consumption. There were also neat antique cars, probably from the 50s. She immediately had visions of Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in one of these along the Riviera coast.

“What’s this place?” she inquired, looking around at the mid-century modern building that resembled a spaceship.

“This is Az’s baby,” Cass explained vaguely. “Conceived, conceptualized, restored, outfitted—all by the brilliant mind of one Azriel Bagarat.”

“Are you bragging?”

A deep, sensual voice, that could only be called ‘midnight’ sounded behind them, and Cassian’s handsome, tanned face broke in a mischievous smile. “Only about you, brother!”

When Elain turned around, her breath was knocked out from her lungs.

She didn’t know that it was possible, to be actually stunned by someone’s beauty, but there she stood, gaping, feeling the world slow and move in a different manner for a few moments.

Standing at a towering 6”4 or so, the man was at least as tall as Cassian, and Cassian was the tallest man Elain’d ever met. She was just as muscular, but not as bulky. Clad in all black, from expensive, well-tailored Diesel jeans, to a soft t-shirt that stretched over his sharply cut torso, emphasizing the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the narrow waist, true to her sisters’ word, this Azriel was simply exquisite.

Cassian draped his heavy arm around her shoulders and nudged her forward, just a bit, and said,

“Petal, say hello! This is my brother, Azriel. Az, this is my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, the one and only Elain Archeron.”

At the words ‘sister-in-law’ Elain whipped her head to Cassian, who grinned maniacally at her, nodding and answering her silent question.

“When? What are you talking about?” she exclaimed, Azriel momentarily forgotten. “What do you mean? You’ve only been seeing each other for like three months?!?”

“Baby girl, I don’t need three years to decide…Nes is Nes and she is the one for me.”

He shrugged with his usual ease, acting like they were discussing the weather or a good burger that he just ate.

“If Nes hears even a whiff of this, I will know it’s you, petal, and well, I am not sure what I will do,” he decided upon reflection, but then pleaded, “please, don’t tell her. This one,” he nodded towards Azriel, who was standing still, green eyes peeled to Elain, “I can trust. He hardly ever talks,”

“That’s because you talk for all of us,” noted Azriel with a smirk.

Elain chuckled, and turned back to face him.

He extended his hand to her, with an odd, tentative movement, and when she looked down, she saw old, mottled scars that covered his palm and part of his wrist and forearm. A vintage Patek Phillipe on his wrist.

“Beautiful,” she murmured, and he gave her a surprised look, unsure of what she was referring to.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet another Archeron sister,” he said with a soft smile, which made Elain lose her ability to speak for a good few moments, because she was finally able to take in that face that defied description. The sharp cheekbones and the mesmerizing amber and emerald eyes, almond-shaped and slanted hinted at a varied heritage, and unfairly, the man also possessed a perfect nose, and a full, sensuous mouth. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with skin of burnished bronze, which was so in contrast to his bright eyes and raven-black hair, cut in a fashionable undercut. The physique, as she already noted, quickly skimming over the body, matched the face.

“Yes, me too,” she said stupidly.

Graceful, like a courtier, he offered her his arm and said,

“Would you like me to show you around?”

She didn’t want to be impolite, though she suddenly felt sweaty and nervous, and completely out of her league. But she threaded her hand through his arm and lightly squeezed the firm, alarmingly thick bicep.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

She wasn’t sure what she was thinking him for, so she added, “yes, I’d love to see it.”

“Why haven’t we met?” he inquired, those green eyes watching her with such intensity that she felt almost undressed, bared under the gaze. It wasn’t unpleasant, because it wasn’t lascivious, and he didn’t strike her as someone who’d be disrespectful to women.

“I’ve been busy for the past half a year,” she explained.

“Doing what?”

They walked down the wide passage, past all the cars, which Azriel pointed out with a wave of his scarred hand, and dropped names like Pagani, BMW I8, Bugatti Divo, Bugatti Centodieci, Lamborghini Veneto, Koenigsegg CCXR Trevita and so forth. Elain might not have known a ton about cars, but she was not so unaware not to know that a Bugatti and a Lambo were expensive cars.

Cassian fell behind, gawking at the display.

“I was opening my own business,” Elain said, her head thrown back, looking at an entire toy racetrack mounted to the ceiling, with cars zooming by, and somehow, not falling on patrons’ heads.

“What sort of business?”

“Flowers,” she said absently, once they reached another space—a two story-restaurant, bar, and a patio outside as well.

“Flowers?”

“Oh, a flower shop,” she explained at last. Then muttered, awed, “this is really incredible!”

“A car enthusiast?” he smirked.

She didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, her hand migrated from the crook of his arm to his hand, and now, they walked along the walls lined with Ferrari posters, memorabilia and expensive everything. Walking and holding hands.

“I wouldn’t call myself one,” she admitted, “but I find cars aesthetically pleasing…Never got to ride in anything fancier than a Mercedes or a Lexus,”

“Well, we should remedy that at once!” he decided easily and then said, “pick you up on Friday at seven?”

That sobered her up a bit and she turned to face him. They stopped at the long, chrome-lined bar, and he said, “An espresso?”

“Um,”

But before she could respond, he was behind the counter, playing with a very fancy coffee machine that required a PhD to operate with all the levers and hooks and buttons, and in a few minutes, he poured her a tiny cup of coffee, thick with natural foam, and heady with its enticing scent.

He chugged his own in one go and she followed him, gulping her espresso in two sips. It was better than anything she’d ever drunk in her life.

“Like a date?” she finally asked, truly confused by the offer.

“Would you like it to be a date?” he leaned on the bar, biceps flexing, his arms covered in tattoo sleeves that reached all the way to his fingers. They were quite beautiful, the tattoos, the placement and the design, and Elain recognized the style, since Cassian and Rhysand wore the same kinds of tattoos, if not so extensive.

“Did you draw these?” she asked bluntly, touching her finger to a thick snaking black line, which was shaded with cobalt.

He looked down, at her hand and his arm and nodded, following her finger with his eyes.

“I did. For the three of us. When we made Navy Seals,”

“You are a Seal, too?” she exclaimed.

He smiled and nodded, “Well, we all grew up in foster care—not all, Cass and I,”

“I heard,”

“Until Rhys’s parents adopted us. But we weren’t the…best of boys,” he chortled, “so to get our heads straight, we were sent to the Navy after school. We figured we’d only stay a bit, but we stayed for a while.”

“So, you are retired?”

“We are vets,”

“How old are you?” she blurted. Then blushed and said, “I am sorry. I am usually not so impolite,”

He laughed, “I figured. But that’s alright. I’ll tell you on Friday, though. If you don’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t mind,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to her espresso cup, “but,”

“How about this—I take you on a drive in one of these fancy cars—and then you can brag to everyone that you’d driven in a,”

He paused and rubbed his chin,

“Any preference?”

“For what?”

“What car you’d like to go in?”

“I don’t know,”

“Throw something at me,” he urged, eyes glinting with feral delight.

Elain, blush deepening, finally said, “Do you have a Ferrari? I’ve always wanted to drive in a Ferrari.”

“Ahhh, a Ferrarista at heart!” he nodded with approval, folding his arms on his chest, “stick with the classic and the best. And yes, gorgeous, I do have a Ferrari or two.”

Gorgeous.

Azriel

The girl who’d arrived with Cassian, was not Nesta, but there was something vaguely familiar about her. The girl who’d arrived with Cassian was the most gorgeous creature that Azriel had ever seen. Gorgeous and completely unaware.

Women like her, if they were smart and cunning and ambitious, used their beauty for all things good and terrible. But this exquisite creature that Cassian was so blatantly hugging and teasing wasn’t one of those women. Azriel was all too familiar with the types—the maneaters, who hounded him like sharks. He was wealthy, and good-looking, and a decent person, if not exactly a saint. He hobnobbed with celebrities who came to order his cars, which he designed and outfitted based on their specifications and desires.

He was finnicky when it came to taste though. No matter how much rappers asked him to clad their Maybach in gold or some vapid Gucci print, no matter how many heiresses pouted and asked for a bubblegum or Barbie-pink Ferraris, he did not betray the essence and soul of the vehicle. Modify, define, sharpen, stylize—he did it all with precision and skill which was unparalleled. But Azriel Bagarat was known for rejecting even the juiciest of offers, if the request did not coincide with his aesthetic or the history of the car.

He was at his shop—that’s what he called it, though atelier sounded infinitely better and more expensive—that afternoon, knowing that Cassian was going to drop by and select a car for his grandiose proposal to Nesta. There was some concern that Cassian would not fit his 6”5 form into an Aston Martin or a Bentley, so they needed to make sure that the car was appropriate for the occasion and the occupant. Cass insisted on a British vehicle, feeling that Nesta would like something classic and timeless. So be it.

What Azriel did not expect to see that Tuesday afternoon was a girl--because he hesitated to call her a ‘woman’, since she looked so lovely and perfect and innocent--who took his breath away.

His breath had been taken away only once before, by Rhys’s cousin, who strolled like a ray of sunshine into their broken lives.

However, Morrigan chose Cassian. And then Cassian promptly impregnated her, causing a great discontent and strife between everyone. Morrigan, or rather Morgana d’Adda, though she anglicized her name, even if Morrigan d’Adda sounded funny, was just about disavowed by her family for tumbling, and being so stupid and blind as to get knocked up by a hulking nobody mulatto, as her father Keir called Cassian. Rather, sneered, at Cassian.

Even if Azriel didn’t impregnate anybody, he somehow got looped into the family bullshit and once he and Cassian turned 18, they were both shipped off to the navy. To the dismay of the entire Darling clan, Rhys followed them, tossing away his guaranteed admittance to Brown. An Ivy League school for rich stupid heirs. Only Rhys wasn’t stupid. Neither was Cassian a hulking nobody mulatto. And Azriel wasn’t just the ‘fucking weird kid, who might be a serial killer’. They served and they passed the insane Navy Seal training, and they proved themselves.

Nowadays, Cassian now ran security for the Darling conglomerate, while Rhys took over the reins when his father was killed in a car accident. Azriel found his own path, though the association with the Darling name certainly helped his exposure and in building relationships and meeting all the right people. And meeting all the women. The three brothers had gone through their share of wild times, but in the past 3 years, things began to calm down for them.

It began with Rhys meeting Feyre Archeron at an art gallery, where she was exhibiting some of her pieces. Azriel had tugged along with Rhys to see the exhibit, because Rhys was looking for some art for his new office, and he trusted Azriel’s taste and knowledge, and wanted a second pair of eyes.

Rhys followed Feyre like a dog throughout the evening—Azriel was there to witness the pathetic display—and then they ended up at a bar, doing shots and feeding Feyre virgin Cosmos, since she wasn’t even 21 yet. They went to some dance club, Azriel playing the third-wheel and ‘chaperone’, though by the end of the night, Rhys and Feyre disappeared together and weren’t heard from for the next three days.

… “What if he killed her?” proposed Cassian for 100th time, pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his long black hair. “Or what if she killed him?”

“I thought that I was the serial killer among the three of us,” drawled Azriel, sprawled on a sofa, watching a game. He wasn’t as concerned, having seen Rhys dripping with intense lust at the sight of the brown-haired teen. It was unusual, since at that time Rhys was almost 25, and Feyre only 19, and the three of them typically tried to avoid teenagers like the plague. But Rhysand Darling seemed genuinely enthralled.

“No, you are the guy with the sex dungeon,” corrected Cassian.

Azriel rolled his eyes, “serial killer with a sex dungeon, huh? Sounds like an interesting story. Alas, much as I’d like to, I don’t have a sex dungeon.”

“Aren’t you building one? In that new garage of yours?” Cassian shrugged.

“Only cars. No sex toys,” sighed Azriel, looking like that might have been an omission on his part.

“Gents, I think I am in love!” the door burst open and a wild-eyed Rhys appeared, his normally pristine hair in disarray, his cheeks flushed, wearing only a white t-shirt and jeans.

“Where the fuck were you for three days?” growled Cassian, showing considerable relief at the sight of his brother.

“Falling in love,” crooned Rhys, falling into a chair, a stupid, dazed look on his face.

“You look like Audrey Hepburn in ‘Sabrina’,” noted Azriel.

“I feel like Audrey Hepburn!” exclaimed Rhys. “She is perfect. Feyre is perfect.”

What the fuck? Mouthed Cassian in confusion.

“Feyre Darling,” whispered Rhys with delight, eyes closed, tasting the sound of the name on his tongue. “Feyre Archeron Darling. Or Feyre Darling Archeron?”

“You alright there, buddy?” Cassian frowned. “A little early to be talking last names?”

“She’ll be my wife,” announced Rhysand with his usually unwavering confidence.

And that was that.

Now, the ‘society wedding of the year’ was coming up in three months. Rhysand Darling and Feyre Archeron, the toast of the town, the power couple, the young and beautiful billionaires.

 Now, Azriel stood in front of the most stunning female he’d ever seen and for once, he felt like Rhys. His brain turned into a soupy mess, and he found himself tongue-tied and concentrating was suddenly difficult. He wanted to be a gracious host and a confident, formidable man, who had a reputation to uphold—though he wasn’t sure if Elain was aware of his reputation—but inside, he was a mess. All his insecurities, doubts and self-hate rose to the surface at once, and he hesitated to extend his hand in greeting to her. His mangled, horrible, revolting hand, which was sullied beyond its extensive scars. A hand that killed, and touched way too women, some of whom he probably shouldn’t have been touching at all.

“Beautiful,” she murmured softly, that gorgeous blush spreading over her rose-petal cheeks.

He was so taken aback by the comment, he was nearly flabbergasted when she didn’t pull away, didn’t frown or grimace in disgust, didn’t display any of the usual signs of revulsion that most women did when they saw his hands. Perhaps it was the Patek Phillipe, he tried to convince himself, but deep down he knew—she called his scars ‘beautiful’.

And then she took his arm, her hand strong, surprisingly calloused, if light, and small.

And from that moment on, Azriel became obsessed with that touch.

His body heated and as he led her to the bar, and showed her around his pride and joy, watching for the subtle reactions, for the gleam of wonder and appreciation in her eyes, he couldn’t release…wouldn’t release her hand from his. She asked questions, took in all the memorabilia and gawked at the cars, and then the guest area, and finally, when he sat her down at the bar and made her a coffee, he stepped closer. Trying not to scare her, or seem obnoxious, he couldn’t help invading her personal space, and stood next to her, pretending to take interest in his drink, while hoping that her arm would brush against his own. Skin to skin.

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t shy away.

He didn’t expect himself to ask her on what amounted to a date, because he wasn’t even sure how dates worked. His usual ammo consisted of a brief introduction, an even quicker seduction and then a hook up. That’s how he liked it. He preferred no-strings-attached approach to his involvement with women, and it’s been working rather well for him. He never had to sleep with anyone in the same bed, he never had to make anyone breakfast, there was no room for idle chitchat, and usually no second or third dates. It was so easy.

This fucking girl, with her caramel-brown eyes, her golden-amber curls, her soft lips and that damn blush on her cheeks—she was driving him veritably insane with her unique mix of immaculate beauty and a friendly, almost naïve, strangely innocent disposition. And he wanted to go on a date with her. Without an ulterior motive, because at it stood right now, he didn’t care to even get her in bed. That would come later. He was absolutely determined to have this happen later. But…later.

Cassian

“Alrighty, I think I am going with the Bentley,” Cassian sidled to the bar, and interrupted.

If Azriel was annoyed, he didn’t show it.

Cassian spied them at last, making his way through the cavernous entrails of the garage, with all its gleaming cars, the beautiful patrons who were discussing options with no-less beautiful sales people,  and even on-premises tattoo shop, which specialized in Azriel’s sketches and catered to those who didn’t have money to actually outfit their Bugatti to their heart’s desire, but could at least claim that they got a Bagarat tattoo inked on their skin.

Elain and Azriel were standing side by side, somehow melding together nicely, her pretty dress and high-heeled sandals and piles of loose hair in drastic contrast with Azriel’s all-black ensemble, his massive height and the span of his shoulders. But she did not balk from him. Cassian also noticed that she didn’t react to the scars, which Azriel was very self-conscious about, and seemed genuinely interested in the garage.

It was inevitable that the two would eventually meet, especially with the wedding coming up and all the wedding related brouhaha. However, Cassian wanted to have the dibs on gloating down the line, and reminding the two of them, forever, about how it was he who introduced them. Yes, Azriel fucked a lot of models and rich girls, for whom he, strangely, was a riff on a ‘bit of rough’, while being hardly ‘rough’ at all. Azriel was elegant and possessed excellent taste in everything, and he probably had the best manners out of the lot of them. But the tattoos, the cars, the aura of brooding mystery about him, and his generally quiet ways were like honey to the throngs of women who lusted after him.  

About Azriel, Cassian had no doubts.

Cassian knew Azriel probably better than anyone alive, and even that wasn’t saying much, but he was very aware of Azriel’s ‘secret type’ of woman. Basically, it was Elain. Everything about Elain Azriel would like—of that Cassian was certain. Elain was the elusive ‘ideal woman’ of whom Azriel dreamt, but never actually pursued. Slightly unconventional, soft, kind, generous—lovely, would be a good word—Elain was everything that Azriel never had with any other women.

Cassian could already see the hunger and flicker of completely besotted adoration in Azriel’s normally cold eyes.

He was less certain about Elain, having never seen her with a boyfriend. When he had asked Nesta about Elain’s situation, Nesta shrugged and said that Elain was beautiful, but naïve, dreamy and rarely dated.

“A Bentley it is then,” Azriel turned around, though his elbow still touched Elain’s arm. “You’ll fit, big boy?”

Elain giggled.

“I am not Rowan,” Cassian muttered. “I am human sized.”

“Only just.”

“You are the same height,” Cassian reminded him coolly.

“I am a little more human-shaped too.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, petal. While I love to stand here and listen to his insults, we gotta go.”

Elain’s face dropped into a sad frown only for a second, but she recovered immediately. Cassian noticed it, nevertheless. His petal of a girl didn’t want to leave his brother’s side.

“Bye Azriel,” she said, taking his hand in hers again, of her own volition, and squeezing it lightly. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said. His fingers wrapped over her palm, and he said, “I’ll walk you two out.”

So, his brooding brother didn’t want to release the newfound petal of a girl.

How interesting.

Once they were in Cassian’s Jeep, Elain looked out the window, a dreamy look on her face.

“Oh-oh,” Cassian chuckled, as he navigated the narrow NYC streets.

“What?”

“I know that look,” he winked.

“What look?” she frowned.

“The ‘oh gods, Azriel is so handsome!’ look. Oh, he is so gorgeous look. Oh, he is so sexy look.”

“He is handsome,” she agreed blandly, knowing that arguing would be silly.

“I hope that you gave him your number,” he said. “Because if you didn’t, I will.”

“It’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms on her chest, and Cass howled loudly.

“You are welcome, by the way,”

“You are ridiculous,” she muttered. “I don’t know how Nesta tolerates you!”

“Oh, Nes tolerates me and then some,” and winked again.

Now

“My love, slow down a bit,” Elain requested, as the road zigzagged among rows of cypresses.

“I thought that you wanted to make it to Florence before traffic hit?” Azriel squeezed her fingers and brought her hand to his lips.

“Seeing that we are already running late, we might as well enjoy the drive,” she shrugged.

A honey-coloured strand of her hair fell out from under the gauzy wrap that she wore around her head a-la Grace Kelley.

“Good.”

“Good what?” she turned her face to him and knocked him out all over again. By the Mother she was superb in every way, and she was his. He couldn’t believe his absurd luck. Things like these didn’t happen to him. Elain was not meant to be his. Yet, here she was, his lovely gentle girl, who loved him with incomprehensible passion and devotion. His.

The hefty, borderline outlandish ring on her finger was proof of that.

He’d worked hard on that ring, designing it himself, wanting to incorporate everything that he loved about her and about the two of them into the design. The result was this stunner that glittered madly in the Italian sun, sitting on her manicured finger, the skin of her arm kissed by a golden tan.

His beautiful girl loved flowers, and she loved him, so her ring, in its platinum setting was a remarkable rose, reflecting Elain’s green thumb and life’s work. He selected the diamond himself, and the amethysts that comprised the petals, even the tiny onyx inserts, to signify him and the black ink of his tattoos. The ring was both extravagant—especially in carats—but intimate as well, a flower that spoke of his eternal love for this woman.

“I am going to take you somewhere, which I think you’d like,” he teased.

“Where?”

“How does lots of flowers sound?”

She smiled. 

Azriel

For gods’ sake, he was nervous. Azriel was not prone to nervousness or panic or discomfort, but this date, or whatever it was, filled him with dread.

He shouldn’t have asked her.

He was stupid and blinded by her beauty, by her deliciously voluptuous body, by the long, slender legs, by her shy, sweet smile. Those blushes. For the love of everything, those fine, adorable, sexy blushes.

She was part of the family network—both of his brothers were now in love with her sisters. It was cliché and unrealistic and unbelievable that she and he would end up in the same boat. Besides, he wasn’t so lucky as to have someone like her accept him. So, he was making a huge fucking mistake. If this was all going to go sour—which inevitably it would, of that he had no doubt—he’d mess up the delicate balance that existed between the Darling, Bagarat and Cavalhe brothers and the Archeron sisters. She’d reject him and then it would be awkward. Awkward for the upcoming wedding, in which he and Elain were supposed to couple up and be together in the wedding party. Rhys said, ‘fuck it’ and asked both him and Cassian to be best men, while Feyre had both of her sisters as maids-on-honour. There was no escaping it. Therefore, it would be awkward for the wedding, and then for Christmas and all the summer BBQs and pool parties and…well, he might just have to find excuses to never attend anything, ever.

But here he was, standing in front of an old-fashioned, cute corner storefront in the Village. Flower displays spilled on the sidewalk, and the windows, along with the marble edifice reminded him of Paris. This was exactly how he’d picture Elain’ store—slightly whimsical, elegant, classic, but modern. Au Nom de la Rose – The Name of the Rose—perfectly appropriate for Elain’s store name.

She wasn’t waiting for him outside, and he circled the block three times before, by some miracle, finding a parking space and leaving the silver Ferrari, and then made his way back to the store, arriving 4 minutes late, which was completely unacceptable. The store was technically closed at this hour, but he knocked and heard Elain’s voice telling him to come in. Some internal pressure inside of him released at the sound of her voice.

He entered and whistled,

“That’s a lot of flowers!”

Yep, definitely a glamourized 50’s Paris vibe.

“Azriel, I am so sorry, I am not ready,” Elain came from behind the counter, looking a bit frazzled.

“It’s alright I will wait,” he assured her, but she shook her head and said,

“No…I just received a huge order. An emergency order for an anniversary party. Azriel, it’s my biggest order ever!”

“That’s excellent!” he found himself feeling genuinely happy for her, if not for her concerned expression. “What’s up?”

“I…I,” she stumbled. “Feyre or Nesta would usually come and help out if I need them, but Feyre is in LA, and Nesta…” she swallowed, “Nesta is indisposed.”

Nes is on her period and is feeling like crap, read Cassian’s text from earlier today. I am going fishing. Care to join? Or are you busy romancing a certain Archeron sister?

Nesta was indisposed indeed, though Azriel didn’t feel like he needed to know the details.

“It’s a 25th Anniversary, and I have to make 25 bouquets and 15 centerpieces. The couple’s original florist fell through and they contacted me, in a panic, and I agreed,” she babbled, tugging on her long braid nervously. “And it’s for tomorrow,”

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “what’s the problem then? I am here.”

She looked up at him, her gaze both hopeful and confused.

“You? What are you going to do? I am sorry, Azriel, I am so sorry, we’d have to postpone,”

“We’d have to postpone our drive, but I am here. Use me.”

“Use you?”

“Use my body,” he chuckled, and she giggled an amused laugh.

“I appreciate the offer,” and when he thought that she’d continue rejecting his offer of help, she did the right thing and was a smart girl, nodding at last, and said, “will you truly help?”

“I am not a flower expert,”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” she grinned.

He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and said, “Teach me, Archeron. I am an apt pupil.”

He was. Elain showed him model bouquets and thankfully, he wasn’t dumb or clumsy enough to screw them up, once he began copying the originals.

Night fell, and they ordered pizza and he went to get a bottle of wine from the store across the street.

Sitting on the floor of the store, surrounded by piles of flowers, vases, ribbons and twine, they ate pizza, laughing throughout the evening. She stretched her long, bare legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles, and he couldn’t get enough—the pretty toes, the pale golden skin and the sexy pink nail polish. He didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he snuck more than a few glances at her feet when she wasn’t looking.

It was well past midnight when they were finally done.

He stretched on the floor and tucked his arm behind his head.

She kneeled above him, at his side, and said, “Azriel, thank you. I can’t, honestly, thank you enough. You saved me. Maybe my business too!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he retorted gently, “but this was fun…and educational.”

“How can I repay you?” she asked.

“Well, well,” he drummed his fingers on the floor, pretending to think. “So many possibilities,”

At that, she flushed, and he licked his lips, loving the sight of that pink on her cheeks.

“Let’s make a bargain,” he proposed at last.

“A bargain?” her brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“For my exceptional assistance during your time of trouble and despair, you will agree to an outing with me, of my choosing. To do whatever I want.”

Elain stared at him, biting her plump lower lip.

“Are we going to do something bad?” she finally asked uncertainly.

He grinned and without thinking, cupped her cheek.

She didn’t recoil.

He drew his thumb over her soft skin and she leaned into his palm just a little bit. Gods it felt good. So good. So good to have her so near, so receptive, so unafraid. But he dropped his hand.

“You think I will take you to knock off a couple of 7-11s?”

“Well, if I am entering this death bargain with you, then who the hell knows?” she shrugged.

He laughed, “Death bargain? A little dramatic, are we?”

She was still sitting there, biting her lip, and all he wanted to do was drag his tongue over it. Kiss her large, brown eyes. Fist his hand around the thick mass of her hair, tilt her head and kiss her until she was breathless.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He never acted like this!

He never thought like this.

He was a rational, controlled, some said, cold man.

Not to say that he wasn’t able to find a woman immediately attractive, or want to fuck her, but this was different. This was unknown.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Fine?” he repeated, smiling.

“Don’t make me do anything bad,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he promised. “I wouldn’t lead you astray. But,” he sat up, draping his forearms over his knees, “where do you live? Let me take you home,”

“I can take an Uber,”

He gave her an incredulous look and she nodded without further arguments.

“Where do you live?” he asked, once they were outside, somehow internally thrilled that perhaps, she’d invite him inside. He wouldn’t expect anything, obviously, but it would be nice see where she lived, what her private space looked like. So far, he couldn’t pinpoint her style with any accuracy, an interesting mixture of vintage and modern, of flowers and thorns.

“Just two blocks down,” she said, as she locked up the shop.

He gave her his arm, and it seemed like she almost expected it, because she immediately thrust her hand into the loop and he smiled softly.

The little white shorts and the flowery top did things to him, and he was glad to walk side by side, so to prevent himself from staring at her long legs and her neat, lush ass. He was already a mess over her legs, over her bending and squatting in front of him for the past four-five hours.

It was dark and quiet on the street, and they walked in a comfortable silence, each thinking of something of their own.

And then,

Elain sprawled face down on the pavement.

She cried out, landing on her knees on the asphalt, just barely having the time to brace herself on her hand, and ripping the skin of her palm.

Azriel was instantly on his knees in front of her.

Tears glistened in her eyes. Possibly from pain, because as she flipped on her butt, they saw that her knees were torn and bleeding, as was her palm, or maybe from shock, as well as embarrassment.

“Shhh,” he cooed gently to her, “are you okay?”

She shook her head. A lonely tear spilled from her eyes.

“Tissues?” he asked quickly, surveying the damage. Bruises were already blossoming on her scuffed kneecaps, all around the wounds.

She wordlessly handed him her bag, allowing him to rummage through it and he found a packet of old tissues, which he gingerly pressed to her bleeding knees.

“My ankle hurts,” she muttered, reaching down to inspect it.

“Let me,” he took her legs and looked over her ankle. She glared questioningly at him, still in some sort of stupor, not understanding what had occurred, and why she was now sitting on the ground, bleeding.

“You broke your heel,” he nodded to her foot and she glanced down, finally realizing that her heel caught in a crack in the pavement. The impact was so strong, it actually fully detached from the sole of the shoe.

“I am sorry,” she mumbled.

“You should be,” he chuckled, “you gave me quite a scare. I thought you were shot; you went down so quickly!”

She pushed at his arm, half laughing, and have crying.

“Stop making me laugh!” she ordered, sniffling and giggling. “Auuu, it hurts...”

He was lightly pressing on her ankle, and then said, “it’s just twisted. You’ll need ice, but it should be okay…”

“Ok, Doctor Azriel,” she even rolled her eyes slightly and he laughed, flicking her nose.

“I am trained on how to treat combat wounds and catastrophic field injuries, I’ll have you know,” he said and then gave her his hand. “On your feet, soldier! Let me see if you can stand.”

Moaning and groaning, she managed to stand up, but putting any weight on her foot caused a yelp to escape her lips.

“Alright, come on now,” he stepped and opened his arms, “jump in.”

“Jump in where?”

“Jump into my arms, of course.”

“What are you planning to do? Swing me around?”

“I could swing you around, but I was planning on carrying you home, and then making you an ice pack and disinfecting all your cuts.”

Without waiting for her to decide, he scooped her off the ground and she gasped, and he wasn’t sure what the little huff meant.

“But it’s like two blocks!” she protested feebly, and unconvincingly, “I am heavy.”

“Ooohhh,” he groaned dramatically, hefting her to his chest, as they started off. “Sooo, so heavy!”

“I am the fattest of my sisters,” she argued, and even in the darkness he saw that she was blushing realizing how silly her comment was.

“Well, considering that Nesta is like 90 lbs. and Feyre 110 lbs., that’s not saying much,” he assured her.

She was soft and warm in his arms, and when, without prompting, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, he felt utterly at peace. Because the pieces of them fit. She fit him.

Blood still dripping, and her arms thrown over his neck, Azriel walked steadily, cradling her to his chest, until they finally reached a pre-War building, and she said, “There is no elevator.”

“Don’t tell me you are on the 6th floor!” he laughed, looking up.

“The third.”

“Guess I will have to haul the fattest of the Archeron sisters to the 3rd floor!” he sighed, and she smacked his arm, protesting,

“You can’t say that!”

He was laughing and she began to laugh as well.

“You said it first,” he reminded her.

 Her apartment was small, but she’d arranged the furniture in such a way that everything seemed more spacious, and orderly, without unnecessary frills. Mostly grays, turquoise, cobalt and creamy-white. For some reason, he thought that there would be much more pink and general fluff. This though, this he liked.

He sat her down on the sofa and went to the bathroom to find bandages and plasters and other items. She called out from her spot, telling him where to find things and he finally emerged and began working on all her wounds.

“Haven’t lost a soldier yet,” he told her with a chuckle. He kneeled in front of her, and his touch was firm, but surprisingly gentle, as he thoroughly washed every scuff and tear, and then disinfected and decided what needed bandages and what didn’t.

Elain remained mostly silent throughout the procedure, watching him from under her lashes.

“You are nice,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her and smirked.

“Not with anyone.”

“Everyone just says how handsome you are,” she lay her head on the back cushion, watching him. He gave her a painkiller, and it was making her drowsy. It was also late. She rarely stayed up this late. “But you are also very nice,” she added.

Elain

She woke up that morning, and was struck by the unfamiliar environment. And pain.

Her knees ached and screamed and hurt, as did her palm.

Light poured through the windows; the curtains still open.

She found herself on her sofa, haphazardly covered by a throw, and with her legs resting on Azriel’s lap.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He was here. With her.

He never left after last night’s debacle.

She was a clumsy cow, as always, but the incident was unusually embarrassing, even for her. She always spilled or dropped stuff on herself, tripped, stumbled, and fell on her ass at inopportune times, but last night…By the Mother!

The man was gosh darn saint. Not only did she screw up their evening plans, made him work and make bouquets with her, which, probably wasn’t the most exciting thing for him to spend the evening on, but she also almost ate the pavement, and then he carried her for half a mile! And cared for her when they came here. And spent, what must have been a horribly uncomfortable night in a half-seated position, with her, no doubt, pushing at him with her feet.

Yep, she was never going to see him again.

Good going, Elain. Fine job you did of this ‘relationship’. Now, for the rest of her life, she’d be forced to see him at family gatherings, probably with some stunning model of a wife, and he’d always remember her as the girl who tore her heel on the pavement.

She wanted to cry.

Not that she ever, even for a second, believed that this would go anywhere. Her and Azriel. That wasn’t possible. Things like these didn’t happen to her. She was strange and solitary and even if others claimed that she was pretty, going so far as to call her ‘beautiful’, she never felt like that. When Nesta got mad at her, she’d call her a ‘petty idiot’ and Elain felt like that more frequently than she cared to admit. And Azriel…he was cut from a different cloth. He was…

She looked at his face, still perfect, but ever so slightly relaxed and softened in sleep, his eyelids heavy and enviably long, thick lashes fanned over his golden-brown cheeks. He was funny, with a quick, dry sense of humour, intelligent and interesting, and when they talked last night, she couldn’t get enough! He told her fascinating stories from his time in the Navy, about his dream, which resulted in the creation of his beloved garage. It took him three years to open the place—conceptualize what he wanted, how to deliver it, the items to showcase. The result was not just the ‘garage’, but also the popular bar, and recently, a restaurant as well.

Scarred fingers touched her hand and he opened his eyes.

“Good morning,” he whispered, squinting at her. “How are you? How’s the pain?”

“Azriel,” she murmured, not even knowing how to thank him, but she attempted, “I want to,”

“Pancakes?” he asked eagerly.

She glanced at him with incomprehension.

“May I make you, or us, pancakes?” he proposed. “I’ve been sort of thinking about this all night. How I’d like to make you pancakes,”

“I want to thank,”

He lifted his finger and shook his head,

“No, no. My Italian mother would tell you that you should never thank anyone for providing medical help,”

“Why?”

“According to my psychotically superstitious Italian side of the family, the remedy or healing won’t take, if you offer thanks. Imagine, I was forbidden from ever saying ‘thank you’ to a doctor,”

She chuckled.

“So, you are Italian?”

“Mom’s side is half Neapolitan and half from Lazio—near Rome.”

He sat up and rolled his neck.

“Can I at least say that I am sorry that you had to be so uncomfortable and sleep on the couch?” she asked.

“It’s alright. Not the best night I’ve ever had, but not the worst one either. The company was nice too,” and he patted her legs.

A tiny flare of hope lit in her belly.

But she didn’t allow herself to have it take root.

Maybe not until he gathered her legs together on his lap and drew his fingers up and down her calf.

“But really, how is the pain?” he asked at last, watching her with his intense, warm eyes. The eyes didn’t warm frequently, it seemed, but when they looked at her—

He was different somehow.

Kind. Approachable.

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand, not wanting to burden him any longer with her dumb injuries.

Those long, scarred fingers glided over her skin, and a small smirk touched his lips, “May I kiss it better?”

She blinked at him.

“I hear that I am very good at making pain go away,” he added proudly, and then, his lips descended on her scuffed and bruised knees. She kissed each one, tenderly, and then took her hand and brought it to his lips, and pressed his mouth to the inside of her palm. Her breath hitched and she stared at him, wide-eyed, as he watched her, unblinking, gaging every minute reaction. He kissed her hand, inside and then out, and then kissed the other, even though it wasn’t injured, and then returned to her knees and kissed them again.

At last, “Better?” he asked.

She only mooed incoherently.

…Azriel, by the stove, flipping pancakes was the sexiest thing Elain had ever seen in her life.

Clad in dark slacks, in his white shirt from last night, with sleeves rolled up and the tattoo sleeves on full display, he stood in her kitchen, barefoot and flipped pancakes like a pro.

“You cook too?” she asked incredulously.

He laughed.

“Too? In addition to what?”

“I don’t know,” she was still perched on the sofa, like an invalid, but after she washed her face and brushed her hair, he ordered her to sit and not make unnecessary moves. “Everything?”

“My repertoire is limited, when it comes to the kitchen, but what I know how to make, I make well. Cassian is a better cook.”

“Cass?” she smiled.

“Nesta is lucky to have him,” Azriel added, somewhat wistfully.

Elain looked at him and nodded. “I think so too.”

“He is a good man. Maybe the best man I’ve ever known. Where my own family failed, he stepped in, though he is a year younger than me. But he taught me…how to be. Accepted me. Unconditionally. Taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to fight.”

“And you?”

“I? I helped him with his reading,” Azriel rubbed his chin, his stance a little tense.

She didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he felt like sharing more.

“It was neglected,” he said at last. “His reading and writing. So, we sat together, late at night, at our foster parents’ house and read.”

He then asked, “coffee?”

The moment of reminiscing was over, and Elain did not press.

She nodded to one of the cupboards and he pulled out a tub of coffee and grimaced.

“This is what you drink?”

“Hey, it’s good coffee! I buy it at Trader Joe’s!” she laughed defensively.

“Baby, we are drinking Italian coffee in this house,” he decided, and there was no arguing with that logic.

 That’s how Elain became Azriel’s ‘baby’.

In their house, they always drank Italian coffee.

 Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Thanks Nu,” Azriel greeted a lanky, very thin, very tall girl, who handed him two packages and then winked at him and disappeared wordlessly.

“My assistant, Nuala,” he explained, showing Elain two packages of Lavazza coffee. “This will do for now.”

Elain hobbled to the small butcher block island that she’d restored from a console that she found at a flea market. “You text someone and they just appear?”

He grinned and shrugged innocently.

“I know a guy.”

“Of course you do. Are you in the mafia?”

“First of all, rude,” he placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her and then poured her coffee, “second of all, I just know a guy.”

“Who knows where to buy Lavazza on a Saturday morning?” she wondered, tucking into the pancakes.

“I have a network of spies,” he winked at her.

She sipped on the coffee, perhaps not as good a cup as he’d made her at his garage, but glorious nevertheless. “Are you in the CIA?”

“Not in the mafia or the CIA. Just a lowly car guy.”

“Uh-uh.”

They toasted with their coffee cups and Azriel said, “not bad for a first date. Blood and flowers. Very romantic.”

It was that morning, that sunny Saturday morning, over a plate of pancakes and some Italian coffee that Elain Archeron fell in love.

She fell in love completely.

Utterly.

Irreversibly.

And forever.

Now

Azriel turned off to some side road and how he knew where to go, Elain had no idea, but she just enjoyed the scents and warmth of the day.

“You know,” she laughed. “We are literally under the Tuscan sun right now!”

“All your dreams are coming true,” he ran a loving hand over her bare arm and she tore her gaze from the scenery around her.

“My dreams came true when I met you,” she confessed. “That was the day.”

“So easily impressed!” he teased, but she saw that her words touched something in him. His face softened with happiness.

“Az, slow down,” she whispered, an almost painful pull to kiss him spreading over her. “I want to kiss you.”

He looked at her, eyes hidden behind his Aviator shades, but slowed down and she leaned towards him and planted her mouth on his cheek.

“Lips,” she murmured with audible desperation.

“Baby, I don’t want to bust up this nice Ferrari,” he laughed. “And you, who is riding in it.”

Pouting, she ordered, “Then pull over so I can kiss you!”

He laughed louder, throwing his head back, his gorgeous tanned neck annoyingly desirable.

She wanted to bite his vein, lick the salty skin of his neck, and then sink her teeth into his shoulder. Elain was a biter. And a scratcher. Good thing that Azriel was a benevolent lover, who didn’t care if she left his body marked with her love, and didn’t mind the pain. In fact, he encouraged it.

His heavy brown hand lay on her knee, under the hem of her summer dress and he said,

“Why don’t I do something nice for you… then you can kiss me…”

“But I want to kiss you now,” she frowned playfully.

His hand slid a little higher, up her bare thigh, and he pressed his scarred palm into her thin, tender skin, rubbing slowly, indulgently. This was just as much for her as it was for him.

She threw her head into the back of the seat, eyes closed.

Until she yelped softly, when his wicked hand slipped higher and higher, pushing her dress up as well.

“Azriel Bagarat,” she murmured, “what am I going to do with you? And your love for public nudity and lovemaking…”

He shrugged oh so innocently and said, “firstly, it’s Archeron to you, and,”

“Not just yet,” she wiggled her ring-clad hand in front of him, “not until we got the paper and all, to make us official,”

They rolled their eyes at the same time and then laughed.

“And secondly, who can blame me?” he leaned and kissed her shoulder. “You are very hot. And I sort of want to fuck you all the time.”

His long, very experienced fingers made their way even higher, until he drew them along the cotton of her underwear, lightly pressing into the cleft, teasing ever so lightly. She shifted against the fingertips, her thighs falling apart in silent encouragement.

Elain was a giving and a receptive lover, innately knowing what he wanted and accommodating both of their needs thoughtfully, and easily.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmured.

“To kiss you,” she insisted stubbornly.

He huffed his amusement, and then pushed his finger deeper, firmer against the cotton, whispering,

“How about this?”

“This is nice, I suppose,”

“Only nice?” he withdrew his finger in warning and she grabbed his wrist, and thrust it back in place.

“Maybe a little better than ‘nice’, huh?” he teased.

“A little,” she agreed, gasping when he cupped her fully, swiping his heel of his palm against the length of her folds, feeling the dampness against his skin. Bold, as he always was, he moved the strip of cotton to the side, and hiked up her dress ever higher, exposing her to his exploration.

He snuck a glance at her perfectly peachy, pink pussy, bare and succulent, like a ripe fruit dripping with its sweet juices.

He groaned and then hissed, “I am stopping, right now. I want you coming on my tongue in the next four minutes,”

“So confident, ombre?”

She took to calling him ombre or ‘shadow’, when, early in their relationship, he kept materializing in front of her out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows. He laughed, but didn’t mind the endearment. What’s more, it became a private thing between the two of them—he’d call her ‘rose’ and she’d call him ‘ombre’. It wasn’t nauseatingly sugary sweet and could be used in public without making people gag. Unlike, for example, the Darlings, who, for whatever reason called each other ‘my darkness’. Or Cassian, who sometimes went with ‘schmoopie’, braving Nesta’s wrath.

Azriel laughed, while incessantly dragging his finger back and forth over the wet slit, without doing much else, and making her gasp and squirm.

“That I can make you come on my tongue in 4 minutes? Fuck yeah! Want me to prove it?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she shook her head, “you don’t get to just do whatever the hell you want, when you want it. If I don’t get my kiss, you don’t get to,”

“What? Lick your pussy? I feel like the punishment is unreasonable,” he protested.

She gave him a sultry look, a look that only he was privy to, and then murmured, spreading her legs a little wider for him,

“Maybe I want to lick something of yours?” she proposed, her voice husky, pouring like honey over his ear.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” he choked out, finally parting the soft cushions of her folds and dragging his knuckles over the wet spread of her. The intoxicating scent of her arousal, mixed with the Italian sunshine and the smell of grass, flowers and cypresses was so heady, he almost swerved, stopping only quick enough to grip the steering wheel tightly in his left hand.

Gods, if he was going to make it to their next destination, he would be impressed with himself. But it was close.

Azriel

Elain loved getting fingered. That was the first thing he learned about her sexually—kissing and fingering.

In the privacy of their world, he fingered her constantly.

It was almost an obligation on his part by now, to have her wake up, tucked into his side, while gently, but thoroughly pumping her soft, indescribably tight center. No matter how many times he’d been inside of her, she remained tight, as tight as the first time. That was a blessing, but a curse as well, for all he could typically think about throughout the day, was sinking into that glorious tightness.

When she was finally semi-awake, she rolled on her back and spread her legs in front of him, so he could finger her in earnest. Two fingers first, nice and deep inside of her, as he knelt in front of her and watched her come undone before him. And then, there was always a moment when her eyes flew open, and her back arched, and he slipped the third one in. The plush, warm walls of her sex stretched and pulled to accommodate him, but he went slow and deep, only grazing the sensitive spot in her, making her moan low and begging, the pressure of his hand steady and firm.

She cried and cried into the pillow, head thrown back in utter extasy, her hair a tangled halo about her. She wasn’t permitted to move her hips, his only order in that early-morning game of theirs, therefore she was wholly dependent on him for her pleasure. If she ever did begin a sensual undulation of her hips around his hand, he’d allow her to continue for a few moments, aware that she was lost in her own pleasure, before cruelly yanking his hand out of her.

“Was my girl allowed to do that?” he’d ask simply, and amidst her disappointed panting, her pleading for more, her sweet, innocent “sorry. I am sorry,” she’d beg him to fill her again.

Then she’d lay still, eyes wide and pleading, her little opening vibrating at the loss, before he placed her feet on his shoulders and thrust in her anew. This time, his scarred, rough, brown, inked fingers disappeared in her completely. She buckled and let out a wild moan that reverberated from the very depth of her, because all four fingers were inside, and his thumb finally, finally began a gorgeously slow torment around her clit. She just lay there, tense and unmoving, watching him, the slurping, obscene sounds of his hand inside of her filling the sleepy morning air around them.

Elain came quietly. She moaned and twisted and gasped as he rubbed her clit, but when the waves finally descended upon her, when he felt the tight, silky flesh grip and pump all four of his fingers, which were now pressing up into her perfect spot, the exhale was soft and intimate. Only for him.

Now

“Don’t wreck the car,” Elain muttered, eyes barely open.

“Will this be the second one?” Azriel asked, while Elain wrapped her hand around his wrist and forcefully jammed his hand inside of her.

Four.

Four orgasms daily. That was his promise.

He’d provide her with at least four daily orgasms. So far, he typically exceeded expectations. It wasn’t particularly difficult, because he often played with her at odd times—when they were watching TV, he’d slip a finger onto her clitty and rub her slowly and leisurely, until she melted from the stimulation. She enjoyed it when he bent her over counters or sinks, and sunk his fingers deep and hard into her perpetually ready hole.

Elain, to his complete delight and fascination, was always just a bit aroused. Always, always just a bit wet, just a little damp for him. He’d make an unscheduled stop at her shop and if it was empty, he’d step behind the counter with her, and soon, she’d be splayed over the counter, his hand between her legs. Yes, they’ve been almost caught plenty of times, but Azriel had the ability to disappear into shadows as soon as he sensed someone coming. Sometimes, when someone would walk in the store, Azriel even pretended that he was a customer, buying flowers, watching her patiently, while she got his bouquet ready for him. Never mind that his hand might have been soaked with her slick, or that he smirked, watching her press her thighs together, while she wrapped the flowers, as she avoided eye contact with him, and handed him the bouquet which he’d inevitably bring home for her.

When he was around her, she jokingly complained that she was of constant need for him, and it was his very enviable and pleasant task to soothe the ache inside of her.

 Azriel

Their friends, family, found their relationship perplexing. But Elain kept her sisters firmly at an arm’s length when it came to the discussion of their sex life. No matter how they tried to pry, she gently, but firmly rebuffed them. Nesta complained and said that they were too obsessed with each other. That Elain was too in love and that Azriel was too dependent on Elain’s love for this to be normal. Elain only shrugged and didn’t argue.

 “It’s not normal!” seethed Nesta, watching Elain and Azriel wrapped around each other on the dance floor, Elain’s body shimmying and swaying around her, arms raised in the air, her hips swooshing to the beat, bumping into his pelvis.

“You think they are gonna do it right on the dancefloor?” Cassian contemplated quietly, not sure if this was outside the realm of possibilities.

“He would!” she spat and gulped down her Aperol spritz aggressively. “I am surprised he is not bending her over…more surprised she isn’t agreeing!”

“They never argue,” Cassian nodded.

“They never—never—argue. It’s not normal!”

The way Cassian saw it, as long as the two were happy, he had no right to judge.

Nesta was a hot pepper. Feyre, an apple—solid, tasty, dependable. Elain—whipped cream—a delicious topping over anything, but especially Azriel.

 Nevertheless, the word got around.

One day, Azriel, Rowan and Cassian were sitting in Elain’s flower shop, toiling diligently over a huge order of flowers.

They wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not to each other, or their women, but they quite enjoyed hiding in that flower shop and arranging flowers. They claimed that they were doing it for Elain’s sake, to help her out, so she didn’t have to hire additional help just yet, but,

Well, they liked it.

At first, Elain wasn’t sure if Cassian was cut out for the task, because the very first try was a little rough.

“Cass, these are not your enemies that you are about to smite,” Elain instructed gently, prying his fingers from the stems of irises, which he was clutching like he was about to throw a lance.

“Pfff, you look like you are about to choke a chicken,” Nesta teased. And promptly realised her mistake, biting her lip.

Cassian cocked his brow and murmured seductively,

“What chicken am I choking, sweetheart? My own,”

“Oh no,” Elain stepped in between them, hands on her hips. “No. No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Lainey, don’t allow Cass to choke his chicken in front of us,” begged Azriel, working quickly and deftly, and soliciting an envious look from Cassian, whose flowers were in complete disarray, compared to Azriel’s neat piles and methodical assembly line.

“Yes, no one is choking chickens, penises or each other in here,” ordered Elain sternly, while Nesta and Azriel were laughing silently.

“Hehe,” smirked Cassian, “Elain said ‘penis’!”

“Take your dirty talk and deeds,”

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, dirty deeds done dirt cheap

Cassian began rocking to his own singing, imitating the gravel of Brian Johnson’s voice rather successfully, headbanging over his babybreath, bluebells and irises.

Chicken choking forgotten for a moment.

 As Cassian fussed over a vase, working on each stem and arranging them just so, wearing a little white apron no less, he asked casually, “So, brother, four?”

Azriel was in his own headspace, and he didn’t even hear Cassian, as he was busy with his own flower arrangement.

There was, expectedly, a competition going on—who’d complete the most arrangements in an hour. Rowan, a veritable giant, and Cassian’s best friend, also wore an apron, but a long one, like a butcher, and was significantly ahead of the pack. That bothered Azriel more than he cared to admit. So, he was re-strategizing his strategy.

“Four what?” Rowan inquired, not taking his eyes off the flowers, working like a machine.

“Ask Az here,” Cassian suggested. He was catching up to Azriel with an alarming speed.

Azriel had never lost, so far. He wasn’t going to lose today.

“Stop speaking in riddles. What are you talking about?”

“Word on the street is that our Az here provides the flower girl with a minimum of four orgasms on the daily,”

Azriel started and finally tore his eyes from the flowers.

Both Rowan and Cassian were watching him, smirking.

“I guess it’s true then,”

“Fuck off.”

“If that’s true,” Rowan drawled, “good for you, man. Though you are putting us to shame with this ridiculous offer of yours. How do you keep up?”

“Easily,” Azriel shrugged. “But it’s freaking me out that you two are talking about my sex life so casually.”

“But fucking four? Daily?” repeated Cassian, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Elain, man,” Rowan rubbed the back of his head, mussing his silver hair, “who would’ve thought?”

Cassian nodded, “No offense, brother, but Elain doesn’t strike anyone as particularly adventurous in the bedroom,”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Azriel said simply.

“Very beautiful,” offered Rowan pacifically, “but…you know…Kind of like Elide, I guess. You wouldn’t know it, looking at her,”

Cassian was nodding. “Yeah, she looks like she eats macaroons and reads Jane Austen,”

“Macarons,” said Azriel.

“What?”

“It’s macaron. Not macaroon.”

“What the hell is the difference?”

“One is a French biscuit, made with almond flour and filled with a creamy filling. The other, is a coconut concoction that one usually eats at Passover.”

Rowan was chuckling. Cassian was shaking his head, grunting, “you would know. So, does she? Eat maca--,”

“No, she doesn’t even like macarons. And she doesn’t read Jane Austen. She reads espionage novels. She likes Daniel Silva. Any more stupid questions?”

Elide. Of course. He should’ve guessed.

Elain and Elide met through Rowan and it was friendship at first sight.

Azriel couldn’t argue—the two women were similar in many ways. Both were on a quiet side, polite, well-mannered. Elain—a ray of sunshine, tall, slender and curvaceous, smiling and affable, with piles of golden-brown locks and warm brown eyes. Elide—the opposite—small, pale, with perfectly straight, silky black hair and dark, midnight eyes. Both—crafty in the ways of the world, charming, when needed, capable of getting into everyone’s good graces, and therefore, getting what they wanted.

“No, no more stupid questions,” said Cassian. “Just don’t know how you two grumps attracted such lively girls,”

“Lorcan and I aren’t ‘grumps’. We just talk when we need to and don’t have the need for instant gratification or to be the center of attention. Something I can’t say about you,”

“It’s not about me,” Cassian protested, but Azriel stopped him, by raising his finger,

 “Now, if you are not going to shut the fuck up about my woman and me, I will spread a rumour amongst your women, that it’s not four, but six. Daily. Let’s see how you measure up then.”

Silence fell.

Azriel won.

His 36th win.

 Now

 “Yes, the second,” Elain nodded with a satisfied smile.

 Azriel

 Naturally, today, he woke her up properly, as he always did.

They stayed in an adorable little villa, near Montepulciano. It was everything a Tuscan villa was supposed to be…

including the dust that settled in its 800-year-old walls. And Elain coughed and coughed and coughed, surprisingly not coughing up a lung.

“We can’t stay here,” Azriel said, frowning.

“Where are going to go? We are in the middle of Tuscany and it’s 10 pm,” she reminded him.

Ever resourceful, he dragged the mattress off the antique bed and plopped it down on the floor of their small balcony.

“We sleep here. Under the night Tuscan sky.”

It was a lovely, if chilly night, and Elain would’ve enjoyed it if she didn’t fall asleep almost immediately and slept through the night.

She was still asleep, when the birds began their morning song and Azriel positioned her on her hands and knees, and carefully removed her nightgown, baring her to the dry, cool morning air.

“Someone will see us,” she murmured sleepily.

She tucked her hands under her cheek, and followed the direction of Azriel’s hand on her hip, rising her butt high up, and arching her back for him.

Azriel loved having sex out in the open. Especially if she was completely naked. He wasn’t overt about it, but the thrill of being found out, the titillating desire to be watched was always present. She knew it. She indulged his fantasies.

“I don’t think anyone would mind watching you,” he whispered hotly in her ear and lightly bit the apple of her cheek. “But it’s also like 4:15 in the morning. So maybe they are still sleeping.”

He settled behind her and she felt his hands on her back, smoothing over the sharp cut of her tight waist and then the soft curve of her hips.

“Spread your legs for me, my love, I want to play with you a little bit,” he guided her, and she followed his direction, squatting inelegantly on her knees, thighs wide apart for him. He cupped her fully in his palm and then pinched her clit, hard, twisting it and rubbing it between his two fingers, until she bit her forearm, trying to stifle her cries of instant pleasure.  He pinched again, then again, rubbing tightly, while he bit her buttock playfully, but hard enough to leave a pink mark.

“Mmmm,” she groaned, when he nibbled on her flesh again, tugging on the swollen clit with relentless dedication. She managed to twist enough to kiss his knee and whispered, eyes still closed, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my beautiful girl,” he leaned forward and kissed her wet, stretched opening, dragging his tongue around and around the rim, “and you are so nice and wet for me in the morning. My good girl, what do you want?”

“Only you,” she vowed. “Only you, my Az.”

“Let’s fill your pretty little hole then,” he licked on it again, and then slid one strong, long finger inside. As he began to pump her slowly, he proposed, “When I fill you with my cock later on,”

“Uh oh,” she moaned dreamily, smiling a loving smile, enjoying his finger to the fullest.

“I think I’d like to add a finger or two as well. What do you think?”

“I’d like that, I think,” she complied easily.

Elain was not a particularly imaginative lover, but Azriel was the opposite—he had too much imagination when it came to everything. Especially Elain, and what he liked to do with her sexually. What was absolutely fantastic, and he thanked all the gods for this phenomenon, was that Elain was willing to try anything. She was an absolutely willing and eager lover, who learned from him and learned of her body with readiness and joy. He dominated her completely, but that was the nature of their relationship, and they easily fell into their roles, from the very beginning. She was submissive, loved praise, and loved being guided and told what to do. More than anything else, she loved pleasing him. There was never any pull and push, no competition, no power struggles. Elain was made for him, created and carved from something that was innately his, whether it was his body or his mind, and they lived and loved harmoniously. He complimented her perfectly: her temperament, her needs, her wants. He treated her with admiration, gentleness, adoration and respect, and while his own expectations were high, she met them all with ease. She took control when she needed to. Received what she wanted from him, however she needed to. And he gave and gave.

Some, or many, called them soulmates.

Perhaps that’s what they were. Or maybe, they were even more than that.

Azriel stretched his legs on either side of her curved body and then added another finger inside of her sopping, slippery opening, reaching deep into her and pumping her firmly.

“Auuuu, babe, it’s good…” she squealed, “it’s so good.”

Unable to wait any longer, he pulled her buttocks apart with his available hand and swept his tongue over the tiny opening, causing her to seize with surprise and pleasure. Instinctively, she moved her hips against his tongue, pushing her backside into his lips. He licked the little hole in earnest, dragging his tongue back and forth between both of her openings, making her tremble and shudder every time his tongue reached one or the other.

As he sat to the task of licking and sucking her tight hole, he thrust a third finger into her dripping passage, feeling her shift against his face to accommodate the stretch. It was a lot, and she whimpered and moaned from the pressure, but he knew that she could take four, though he wasn’t in a hurry, and worked her diligently and steadily, his tongue laving the other hole just as eagerly.

She was shaking between his legs, her toes curling beneath her, rapid pants escaping into the morning mists, her hair draping the tiled floor in front of her, even spilling through the balcony rails.

Somewhere they heard sheep bleating and Elain laughed softly, before arching her back even further, not caring how splayed she looked. There wasn’t a part of her that he hasn’t seen, hasn’t touched or licked or kissed, not an inch of her that wasn’t caressed by his rough hands, not an orifice that he hasn’t penetrated with his magnificent cock. He’d burrowed inside of her so deeply, so wholly, he possessed all of her and she knew what it’s like to truly be part of another person, to be loved with egregious passion.

He fed another finger inside of her and she cried out, trembling and grunting, as she grabbed and squeezed his foot with mighty strength.

He tore his lips away from her bottom and grinned,

“Love, when you are in labour with our baby, I am fully prepared for the fact that you will break my fingers, maybe even my hand.”

“I am sorry,” she laughed, and kissed his foot, dragging her tongue over his toes.

There wasn’t a part of him that she did not love, did not worship with everything she had. No part of his body remained un-kissed, un-touched, un-caressed. A lazy Sunday, especially if the weather was crap and they had no plans to go out, was her favourite time—she could spend the day loving her Azriel. On those days, she pleasured him. And if she spent hours with his cock buried in her throat, or his balls between her lips, or her tongue in his ass, she was only too happy.

The tips of his fingers crawled into that hidden spot inside of her, curling just so, so he could massage and rub her into a frenzy. He stilled for a moment, to allow her to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, as she bit his foot, trying to stifle her screams. She leaked slowly over his hand, as most of it was situated in her clutching, hungry tightness.

“Very good, my baby,” he praised, kissing her buttocks and then giving her anus a few approving licks, “taking all four inside of you,”

“Oh my god, oh,” she groaned, “it’s so tight…Az, my love, I am so full,”

“I know, love,” he coaxed evenly, his hand beginning a steady, firm barrage of deep, pounding thrusts, “but it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeess,” she only managed, voice thin, pleading. She could barely hold herself up, so he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her ass up. She grabbed the balcony wrought-iron spindles, squeezing them tightly, forehead pressed into the mattress, as he pumped her harshly, keeping her on the verge of constant climax, but pulling back just so, for her to moan and beg him in a never ending litany.

“Baby, you want to come?” he teased, still busy with her butthole, which softened under his furious sucking and if they had more time and privacy, Elain would be ready to take him anally soon enough.

“Yes,” she grunted, “yes,”

“Ask nicely, and maybe,”

“Ugh, you are such a horrible tease,” she complained, biting his foot in spite, and he laughed, before slapping her firm, soft buttock.

“Biting a person who is making you come so nicely?” he slapped her again, and she yelped with pleasure, wiggling her ass, silently asking for more.

The walls of her passage clenched desperately over his fingers, and she made a choking, frantic sound in her chest, now beyond pleading or even moaning. He sucked, and slapped, and bit, and thrust, pumping her open, the sounds of the wet and the skin inside of her completely obscene, and music to both of their ears.

Azriel noticed a man, either a delivery guy or a grounds keeper, watching them wide eyed and shocked from a distance. Probably not something he expected to see at 4:40 in the morning. Not that he made a move to leave.

Azriel opted not to alarm Elain, who was coming violently on his hand, her body trembling and jerking, her beautiful, quiet orgasm sweeping everything in its path. His girl deserved a proper wake up, deserved and needed her climaxes, and deserved to be watched, because she was so beautiful. Her teeth and tongue clamped tightly on his foot, his toes, as she bit and licked, completely undone, turned inside out by his expert hand.

He still worked her hand in her, his thrusts shallow and not as strong, when she collapsed on the mattress at last, eyes closed, panting.

He smiled and finally slipped on the mattress alongside her, though he kept a finger between her folds, rubbing soothingly. She’d bite his head off if he removed his hand from her this quickly.

“Good morning my love,” he whispered at last, kissing her cheek.

“Mmmm, good morning,” she sighed with satiated pleasure.

“Some guy caught an eyeful,” he whispered, but she only snuggled to his chest.

“I don’t care…As long as you were watching me, that’s all that matters.”

“I wouldn’t mind sliding into your little bum right now,” he confessed, stroking her hip and her curvy backside.

“Do you want to take me?” she offered sweetly, eyes fluttering open.

He kissed her head and smiled, “So tempting, but not here and not now. Let’s jump in the shower and then be on our way. We’ve got a decent amount of driving to do today.”

She nodded.

“Did I tell you that I love you?” she stroked his cheek, the sharp, angular cut of it, the dark bronze skin.

“You did, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you, Elain.”

 Elain

Their day was long.

They had their cappuccino and cornetti at some café on the road.

Their trip had a purpose—they were actually driving to Maranello, to the Ferrari headquarters where Azriel had 3 days of business meetings.

When Az told her that he was thinking of going to Italy, it was no brainer to say ‘yes’.

It was the first time she was going to leave her business, her shop, for an extended period of time, but Feyre promised to oversee the operations, while Cerridwen, whom Elain recently hired as a full-time employee and who was Nuala’s sister, was going to be responsible for the day-to-day.

The last time Elain’s been to Italy was when she was barely 10 years old. A few years before everything’s went to shit. Back then, her father completed a very lucrative business deal and there was a lot of disposable cash, so the family decided to take a grand trip to Italy.

Little Feyre who was only seven screeched and begged to go to Disneyland, while Nesta and their mother voted for Italy. No one asked Elain, assuming that she’d go wherever she was told.

The trip was extensive, almost four weeks, and they hit all the glamorous Southern parts—the Amalfi coast, with their headquarters in a rented villa near Positano. Then they went to Portofino, and their father rented a yacht for a few days, the trip culminating in Capri. It was a whirlwind on sun and the sea, of lemons, eating grilled squid, at which Feyre stared in horror, though she liked the taste, amazing fruit, endless pastries and gelato. Even their mother yanking a few pastries away from Elain, hissing that she ‘grow fat and not find a husband’ didn’t mar the experience. Elain, always the plumper of the sisters, was used to the warning by then.

 This time around, Elain could eat as much pastry as she wanted.

They landed in Rome, spent four days there, since she insisted on going to the Vatican Museum twice, hear Mass at St. Peter’s, and she didn’t know if she annoyed Azriel with her endless excitement and tales of art, artists, and biblical stories, but she couldn’t help herself.

She was an Art History major in NYU, receiving a full scholarship to attend. She loved it. Didn’t like college all that much as a whole, but loves studying. When everyone was partying, drinking, fucking and skipping classes, she went to the Met and to MOMA and learned and enjoyed herself. She loved history of religion, of other cultures and though not at all religious herself, none of them were, her knowledge on the subject was thorough.

Azriel, it seemed, liked her passion, her excitement, and listened attentively when she went on long explanation of what this or that Saint did and what grizzly death they’d suffered. And what was the significance of the painting or sculpture of the said Saint. Obviously, he was very artistically inclined as well, though his preference lay in design and industrial art, but he enjoyed listening and discussing. They spent hours and hours meandering the halls of the museum, and of the cathedral, and both spent a good half an hour in front of the Pieta, staring in silence and quiet contemplation at the sculpture, holding hands.

It was when they were sitting at a café, sipping some bitter Campari cocktails and watched the sprawling vistas of Rome that Azriel confided to her. Told her of his childhood. She knew some of the details, but he never talked about his childhood, and she opted not to pressure him. It was clear enough that it was horrific in many ways, and bringing up all those memories didn’t make sense to Elain.

Told her how his father, who was rich and vicious, won custody of him from his mother, not because he wanted his son, but out of spite, to torment the mother. And then it was years of solitude and loneliness and emotional and physical abuse. Azriel’s only reprieve was drawing, making designs, sometimes with chalk on the pavement, sometimes on scraps of paper. His stepmother threw everything out as soon as he made it. He languished in his father’s world for 8 years, until a catastrophic event took place—his stepbrothers doused him, his hands, in gasoline and lit him up. They didn’t call the paramedics either, and simply stood there, watching, as he burned. Finally, the neighbors heard his screams and police and ambulance came at last.

Because he was young, he recovered most of the sensations and feeling in his hands, but the skin was permanently scarred and his father refused skin grafts.

He’d met Cassian at the hospital, who came there having been beaten so badly by his foster father, that he had a concussion, broken ribs and a punctured eye socket.

Mrs. Darling, Rhys’s mother, who was one of the biggest benefactors of the children’s hospital where they were recovering, heard their stories and thankfully, her wealth opened every door. Her influence and wealth were no match for Azriel’s father. Hence when she decided that she wanted to adopt the two boys, little could be done to dissuade her. Azriel and Cassian still spent some time in foster care, while the documents were being processed and all the formalities legalized, but at the end, they ended up with the Darlings, as their adopted sons.

Elain wanted to cry for him, for his destroyed childhood, for his tormented youth, for his injuries, for the lack of love in his life. For his sake, though, she didn’t.

Sensing that he needed her support, she didn’t release his hand for the remainder of the day.

And she told him how much she loved him and how happy he made her.

 They left Montepulciano, and then drove for a few hours and stopped at Orvieto, and explored its unnecessary enormous Duomo, which was situated on the hill, amidst the Umbrian lushness. The tiny town did offer spectacular views and great wine, which they enjoyed with lunch.

 Now

Azriel worked his fingers into the supple warmth of her damp pussy and looked down, before ordering, “wider, Lainey”.

She spread her legs wider, her knit dress folded haphazardly over the belly.

“Wider,” he said and she placed one foot on the seat, exposing herself completely to him.

It was never wide enough for him, for he liked to see everything, liked to spread and open and pull her wide apart for his eyes, for his exploration.

He pressed his thumb to her plump pink clit and began to rub.

She whined impatiently and he smiled,

“We are almost there…”

“I need you,” she moaned, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

“I need you too, my beauty,” he nodded, “but I think once we get there, you’ll forget all about me.”

She tsked and announced, “I don’t know if anything will impress me as much as your cock in my mouth,”

He started at the blunt words, her amused grin and then burst out laughing.

“Naughty.”

In a few minutes, he rounded a small green hill and Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, gods…Az…”

He was smiling.

He’d never been here before, but he’d done his research, finally finding the right spot.

A tiny hidden valley, nestled between a few rolling Tuscan hills, with a small turquoise lake sparkling in the late afternoon sun. In the distance, a mandatory Tuscan villa.

And poppies. Fields of poppies, stretching as far as the eye can see. A blanket of ruby-red poppies, gently swaying in the pine-scented air.

This place was a damn Walmart painting come true, and Azriel loved it for its kitsch, its predictability.

“It’s gorgeous!” she gasped. Then chuckled, adding, “Like one of those mass-produced paintings,”

At that, Azriel roared with laughter, killed the engine and they got out of the car.

“My thoughts exactly!” he nodded vigorously.

She ran into the poppies, brushing her palm over the petals, “But it’s worth it! No painting can ever do this justice! Az…it’s so beautiful!” she twirled in the field of red, her white dress a stark contrast to the vibrancy of the colours around her—the cobalt of the cloudless sky, the emerald green of the hills, the blood-red of the poppies.

He folded his arms and said, “I am glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!”

She inspected all the wildflowers that bloomed among the poppies, picking a few purple ones and a daisy and tucking them behind her ear. Another daisy she brought to him and tucked it into his hair.

“There is a blanket in the trunk,” he jerked his head towards the car, and unbuttoned his shirt almost to the navel, “if you want to picnic,”

“I want to picnic!” she squealed and ran to the car to get what she needed.

Soon there was a blanket on the grass and a few bottles of wine in a basket.

He slid down, stretching on the blanket, toeing off his shoes, rolling his shoulders. This was nice. He also relished her happiness, how her high ponytail bounced about as she ran through the field barefoot, and then began twirling, arms outstretched and singing loudly,

The hills are alive with the sound of

Griswold, he helped out.

“Are you coming here?” he called out, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“No,” she yelled, “I am picking flowers!”

“They’ll wilt,” he muttered reasonably, but she didn’t hear him.

Azriel dozed off, surprising himself. But the pleasant heat, the sunshine, the breeze, the birds—all lulled him into sleep. He stirred only when he sensed Elain near, and when he opened his eyes, he was treated by a lovely surprise. He propped himself on his elbows and watched his beautiful girl walk towards him completely naked, with a heap of flowers in the crook of her arm. What she did with her dress he didn’t know and didn’t care. But he drunk in the slim, curvy silhouette of her body, the long, slender legs and the toned thighs. Her smooth, pink sex glistened just a bit with her usual arousal, and full breasts bounced with every step. Her hair flowed behind her, unbound.

“I got hot,” she announced.

He grinned.

“I can see that. I like it when you get hot like this.”

She stood over him, her delicious slit taunting him and he made to touch it, but she dumped all the flowers on him instead and said, “get up”.

“Why?!” he frowned. “I am so comfortable.”

“I can make you a little more comfortable,” she promised, “but for that, you have to get up.”

With a groan, he got on his feet, only to have her slide on her knees in front of him. She looked up and murmured, “by the time you are done with me, I only want to have gelato to soothe my throat.”

He swallowed audibly, watching her unbutton his trousers and then his shirt. She removed the pants completely, but left the white shirt on, before placing a few soft, loving kisses on the thick slabs of muscles on his stomach. The well-defined outline of his Adonis Belt she traced with her tongue, inevitably making her way from his hip towards the final destination.

“And I want my knees bruised,” she added with a wicked smirk.

He flicked her nose and shook his head, “such filthy words coming from this pretty little mouth.”

She licked her lips with impatience, hungrily watching him fist his member and give it a few rough, preliminary strokes.

“Gods, your cock is gorgeous,” she gasped with admiration, watching him work himself with practiced determination.

“You like my cock?” he drew the thick, smooth head of it over her full lips and she whimpered with anticipation, nodding, kissing it affectionately, with slow, open mouth kisses, as he continued to pump it lazily.

She admitted, “more than anything. Az, Az,” she begged impatiently, as he smeared a trickle of liquid that dribbled from the tip over her lips, “please,”

“Please what?”

She rested her hands on his thighs, kneeling close enough so that her breasts brushed against them, “I want it in my mouth. Please.”

He lightly smacked the thick girth of his shaft over her half-opened mouth, making her shake with anticipation, smiling down at her. Her eyes burned with raw, overwhelming desire.

“But I like it when you ask me, baby. Tell me more,”

“That your cock is gorgeous and ridiculously huge?” she chuckled, relishing in his rubbing the tip insistently over her lips, as she licked the little slit.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

“That I love you and can’t wait to suck it?”

“Alright, babe,” she nodded at last, “I guess you’ll just have to suck my huge dick,” and with that, he slid between her lips.

She smiled around him and pulled on it deeper, dragging her tongue over and under the thick shaft. It was always just a little too big for her, so she gasped, as he filled her mouth more and more, sliding in steadily. She eased her throat as much as she could, accepting the thrust and feeling the smooth head dip down, brushing the back of her throat. He was watching her intently, every bob and swallow of her throat, making sure that she was comfortable enough to hold him in. “Big?” he murmured. Her eyes teared up, but she managed a small nod. Her hands squeezed his thighs nervously, tightly, stroking the backs of them, while he began to pull out slowly, before sliding back in.

Nothing was more exciting than Elain’s ability to mould her throat around his shaft, while those big brown eyes blinked at him, seeking approval. He put his hand over her head, stroking it, then caressing her face, her hollowed cheeks, while giving her mouth a few exploratory thrusts.

She readied herself and pulled back, releasing the cock with an audible pop, and then licking the underside, from the balls to the tip.

“Just like that, my love,” he nodded, watching her tuck her face in the crease of his hip and slide her tongue up and down the sides of his cock. “Is that good?”

“It’s the best,” she vowed, “I love licking!” she added enthusiastically, proceeding to do just that.

He always remembered that she was very innocent and whatever she knew, no matter how sensual, erotic or even perverse, it all came from him. He taught her—gently, firmly and thoroughly the art of the bedroom and whatever they did, he was completely assured that she enjoyed and wanted every moment of it. Thankfully, she was so innocent that she didn’t know how to pretend or fake anything, especially when it came to sex, and didn’t know how to play games. She was eager and loving and excitable because what they did together, with each other, pleased her, and for no other reason. Azriel cherished this level of honesty more than anything.

Therefore, when she said that she loved licking, she showed him just how much she enjoyed it, licking up and down voraciously, over the sides, watching him unblinking. He cupped the pouch of his balls in one hand and carefully eased it into her mouth.

“You are so good to me,” he groaned, as she wrapped her lips around the ball and began to suck eagerly, not caring if she was loud, smacking her lips, tongue working non-stop, caressing the flesh. She hummed appreciatively around the balls, sending a pleasant shiver down his thighs, her mouth completely filled with him. “That’s good, my girl,” he stroked her head, “just like that. Keep going,” his head fell back with satisfaction, and she swallowed hard around his balls, almost moaning at the sight of his neck, the expression of pleasure written on his face.

“Can I tell you a story?” he muttered huskily, looking back down at her, his eyes dark and his face tense. Elain nodded. He gripped his cock and then slid it back in her mouth, almost to the hilt, making her choke and gag at once, watching her eyes widen.

She was drooling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the pressure of her member in her throat, or from the visual display of his stunning body above her. The thick pectorals, adorned with black and blue ink twitched as he began to pump in and out of her mouth, hard and steady. He held the back of her head, but the clutch of his hand was light and casual, only keeping her in place, as his narrow hips flexed with each deep push. A delicious bead of sweat ran down the cobbled network of his abdominal muscles, slowly making its way to the deep V etched into his hips, towards the thick cock that he was currently ramming into her mouth.

She drooled. She licked and laved and lapped. She didn’t care how messy or ridiculous she looked, because her man loved her and loved her on her knees in front of him.

“I couldn’t stop watching you talk,” he grumbled, “the first time I saw you. Your plump lips…Oh fuck, baby, you feel so, so good,” he rode her smoothly, with deep, expert strokes, “you wore that rose-tinted lipstick…and all I could think of afterward was those lips wrapped around my dick.”

She smiled over his member, lightly shaking her head, as much as her current position would allow.

“I am sorry, honey,” he smiled at her, “this pervy mind couldn’t think of anything else but getting my dick down your throat.”

And demonstrating just that, and the resolution of his dream, he pushed further.

“Alright?” he asked, carefully holding her jaw. She blinked her approval. He was unable to take his eyes off her, her lush lips wrapped tightly around the dark mass of him, her beautiful eyes tearing from pressure. He wiped the tears with his thumbs and then gave a brief nod, “give me those flowers, baby.”

Obviously, she couldn’t glance down, so she blindly grabbed a handful of flowers and handed them to him, her expression amused, a little surprised.

“What’s more romantic,” he murmured, stroking her hollowed cheeks and then pulling out a little, before pushing back in, “than putting pretty flowers into my Lainey’s hair,” and he plucked a small poppy from the heap, and pushed in into her hair, “while she deepthroats me?”

He was heavy and thick in her mouth, salty, delicious and familiar, and as he began thrusting firmly, the thick head hitting the back of her throat, Elain settled in for a ride. She wasn’t kidding when she asked for her throat to be raw by the end of it—she liked being sore somewhere in her body from him, at all times. Between her legs, inside her rectum, in her throat—it didn’t matter, though it was nice if it was everywhere, but she loved being marked by him in some way.

The hum and rumble in Azriel’s throat, that of masculine satisfaction and some kind of primal dominance made her so wet, she leaked down her thighs. But he didn’t tell her to touch herself, so she didn’t. He just fucked her throat steadily, the audible sound of her choking and sputtering around his cock and the satisfied snarls emanating from him, the only sounds around them. His hips rocked hard, pumping deep, as he garbled endearments and praise to her, “is that so good, honey? You feel amazing…”

She squeezed his thighs in affirmation. As he worked on her, he kept putting flowers in her hair, admiring her sucking and his work, “so gorgeous, baby. My beautiful girl…Good cock?”

“Mmmm,” she only managed, saliva bathing her chin and chest, her eyes rolling back with pleasure and exhaustion.

“Can you handle a little more?” he begged, “I don’t want to come yet, my love,” another flower in her hair. “I love you on your knees with my cock in her mouth.”

He set a brutal rhythm, muttered, “choke, baby…” and she did, gagging and panting over his member, the lack of oxygen making her pliant and obliging, her mouth existing for his pleasure. When they played a little rougher, he could request to squeeze her throat a little with his hand, while he choked her with his cock, but today, he was feeling romantic, as was she.

Her hair dripped with flowers of all kinds, as he fashioned her into some kind of Summer Lady. Or maybe a Dusk Lady, since the sun began its descent and shadows spread over the pretty little valley.

“Fuck me, you are so beautiful,” he grunted, looking down at her. “My flower girl, with my cock in her mouth. Bob a little, love, show me how much you like it,” he encouraged and she immediately began to bob her head  up and down on him, drool sliding down his shaft, her eyes pleading for his approval, which he gave generously.

He gently, kindly stroked her face, her throat, feeling his cock deep inside it, moving in her, rubbing at the indentation with his thumb. Then, he cupped her face between his large hands and murmured, “open up”, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks, as tears slid down when he started to thrust intently, battering her throat. “My girl is sucking so well,” he was relentless now, pounding and pounding, an Elain thought that she might just pass out from the sensation, feeling lightheaded. Azriel had inhuman stamina when he was between her legs, but that also translated to when he was in her mouth, which meant he could ravage her completely. “I’ll feed you all the gelato myself, if you can suck a little more,” he promised with a smirk, pulling out completely. “Breathe,” he ordered, and she gulped in some air, before he thrust back inside, “are you tired?”

She shook her head ‘no’. She was never tired for him. She moaned, though his cock pushed down all sound with brutal, excited enthusiasm, as he cupped his balls tightly in his hand, readying to finally come. “Fuck, baby, you suck so well,” he squeezed her shoulder, stooping over her, the muscled of his abdomen twitching and tensing, his balls tight against her chin. Grabbing her shoulder with one hand, he cupped her under the jaw and kept her head still, as he exploded in her mouth. He poured down her throat with a pleased, blissful moan, throwing his head back, pumping harshly and erratically, filling her mouth over and over. She sucked and drank, swallowing quickly, gluttonously. Azriel always tasted heavenly, but perhaps it was something about being in Italy and all the fruit and wine that they’ve been consuming, but she couldn’t get enough of him now. He shot rope after rope down her throat and she lapped it all with pleasure. He dropped on his knees, exhausted, his cock still in her mouth, and she stroked and caressed his body soothingly, swallowing the last of him.

“Gods, Elain,” was all he managed, as he finally withdrew in an endlessly long pull from her lips.

She gasped, and licked her lips, before placing a loving, playful kiss on the pink, wet head of the shaft.

“Did you have fun, my love?” she cooed tenderly, as Azriel slumped on the blanket, head her on her lap.

“Baby, why do you spoil me like this?” he moaned, reaching for her bare plump breast and cupping lightly.

“Probably because I love you more than it’s prudent,” she smiled, her voice hoarse. “More than anything. Love you like I didn’t know I could love anybody. Also,”

“Yes?”

His chest constricted from her simple admissions, from the pure earnestness of her words, from the love that was shining in her brown eyes. He was undeserving of this woman, of her overwhelming love for him, of everything that she gave him so selflessly. But he listened and listened, because everything she told him was like a balm on all the wounds of his soul, and music to his heart.

Her lips were gorgeously, obscenely swollen, and he dragged his thumb over their plumpness. She added, “you are very hot.”

“Ahhh,” he chuckled. “So you are using me for my body?”

“I’d be stupid not to use you for your body. You got one hell of a body, my mysterious, shadowy Azriel.”

“Well, flower girl, you go ahead and use my body as much as you want, for anything you desire. It’s yours.”

He kissed her hand. Then, reached up and kissed her pretty pink nipple.

“As is my heart,” he added softly. “Anything you want. It’s all yours.”

She lay next to him, both of them sprawled in the blanket of flowers. She picked a poppy and stuck it behind his ear.

“Pretty boy Azriel.”

He propped his cheek and turned to face her. She was still covered in flowers, from all his handiwork.

“We are good together, aren’t we?” she murmured, laying her hand on his neck.

“We are. We are very good together, Lainey.”

She bit her swollen lip and then said, voice quiet, a little uncertain,

“Maybe you want to marry me?” she proposed.

He stilled, waiting for more.

She squeezed the back of his neck a little tighter and continued, no stopping her now, “I know we were thinking later, maybe next y-,”

“Yes,” he nodded, “yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Elain, I want to marry you now.”

She gasped, tears of joy moistening her eyes, “In Florence?” she begged.

“Yes. In Florence,” he cupped her face in his. “Let’s go get married!”

[hello-everyfandom]

“I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

Warnings: Light swearing

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Your love language is Gift Giving

(This is apart of my series “Love Languages”, please check it out!)

“Close your eyes.”

“Should I be worried?” George asked quite warily. 

“Will you just-” you huffed, “Please?”

“At least let me know what I’ve done wrong before you jinx my tongue to the top of my mouth.” George jokingly pleaded.

“If you know what’s best for you,” you lowered your voice to match his joke, “you’ll close your eyes.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you,” George placed a grin on his lips, the dimple of his left cheek becoming more and more prominent. 

“Now, hold out your hands,” you said feeling more and more excited.George hesitantly put his hands out in front of him and jokingly flinched when you touched him. His comedic flinch made you laugh as you scanned him over to ensure his eyes were shut. Satisfied with George’s compliance, you slowly reached into your bag to pull out a wrapped gift. When it was safely in his hands, George’s fingers crinkled around the wrapping paper. He opened his eyes and saw you looking excitedly from the gift in his hands and to his confused face. 

Instantly, George began to sweat. Had he forgotten an anniversary? Or a birthday? Or some other holiday? 

He cursed in his mind, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Go on then!” you smiled, “open it!”

George looked uncertain as he slowly unwrapped the gift revealing a small box. He lifted the box to see a small shaped coin. “It’s... uh.” He asked, picking it up and fiddling it with his fingers.

“It’s a coin!” you giggled at his confused reaction, “I bought it when I was in Russia over the summer to visit my cousin at Durmstrang.

“Oh! It! It is a coin! I love it!” George moved to pull you in a hug before you chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not just a coin. It’s a coin that has been enchanted.” You pointed to the head on the coin, “When you flip it, it’ll tell you whether or not someone is near you. See?” You took it out of his hand and flipped it in your hand, immediately it flipped to Heads. “For pranking, yeah?”

George looked at the coin in wonder and then again at your adoring face. “I... I love it.” He put a hand on your cheek and leaned to press a loving kiss to your lips. “But, I...”

“What is it?” you asked, holding his hand to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, love. I think I... I think I forgot our anniversary or birthday or... I don’t. I’m so unbelievably sorry!” George spewed out.

“What!” you exclaimed in surprise, “No! No, no. Our anniversary isn’t until October!” you began to laugh, “I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

George let out a breath of relief before feeling tense once again, “But, I didn’t get you anything...”

You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, “I don’t expect you to! It was just something for my love, that’s all.” you looked up to see George’s concern written within his brows, “Really! I just got it for you because I thought it would be nice.”

George shook his worry and began to smile, “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, I know. I’m the most glorious girlfriend in the entirety of the world.”

“And so humble as well.” George grinned before giving you another long kiss. 

George grew up with seven siblings. While he grew up with hand-me-downs and knitted clothing from his mother, you grew up on the richer side of the Wizarding World. He wasn’t used to receiving expensive gifts and frankly felt a little uncomfortable and insecure. All the gifts you had given him must have cost a fortune, something he would never truly acquire. And although he loved his family and his upbringing, he cannot help but feel shameful at the fact that he cannot shower you in gifts as you did to him. 

It began with a new quill, then some pranking supplies, and soon the smaller gifts like the flowers you collected for him and the ties you bought turned into new robes and wand adjustments from Olivander’s. He accepted them graciously and sometimes even refused gifts as they seemed to be too expensive. With your assurance, he took them with a smile on his face but his head hanging low. 

With your anniversary coming up, George could feel the hole in his pocket becoming larger and larger and the money he had saved up had gone to ensure the twins’ ability to start their own joke shop. 

“I have no idea what to get her,” George flopped down on the couch. 

Ginny, who was sat to his left, looked up from her book.“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow at her miserable older brother and looked to his twin who sat on his right.

“I mean,” George groaned and placed a hand over his eyes, “What do you get the most perfect girl in the world? What do you get her that she doesn’t already have?”

Fred began to laugh, “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I think it has,” Ginny chimed in.

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

“Georgie, can’t you see?” Ginny grinned teasingly, “You’re whipped.”

“Like Mum’s Christmas cream, you’re entirely whipped,” Fred added.

George sat up instantly and looked at his siblings with annoyance, “Well, we already knew that!”

Fred and Ginny joined together in laughter, noting how George’s vein is popping out of his forehead. 

“Will you two stop your bloody, dumb, shitty teasing and just-” George groaned again and flopped back on the couch, “Help me?” He asked almost pathetically.

“How much did you want to spend?” Ginny asked, quieting her laughing.

“I don’t know! I just know that I don’t have enough.” George moaned.

“A necklace for the lady, perhaps?” Fred suggested making George shake his head.

“She’s already got enough necklaces and jewelry to fill an entire block on Diagonalley.”

“New quill?” Ginny added,

“No, she’s got her school supplies shipped from some store in America.”

Ginny and Fred began to suggest more and more things to which George either did not like because they were not “you” or because you already had them.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “What the hell can you buy?”

Fred thought for a moment, putting his fingers to his lip as he usually did deep in thought. “What if you don’t buy her a gift?”

“And what? Don’t get her anything at all?” George said sarcastically, “Good plan, you bellend.”

Fred reached over the arm of his chair and gave his twin a good wallop on the shoulder, “No, you dickhead. Don’t buy her anything.”

Ginny caught onto Fred’s idea and nodded, “That’s actually not a bad idea, Georgie, don’t buy her anything.”

“Hello??” George yelled, “Are you two not thinking right?”

“George, stop being a smart arse,” Ginny berated, “Get her something homemade instead.”

George opened one of his eyes to look at his sister who stared back at him in annoyance. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Ginny mocked, “Make her something.”

George groaned again making Ginny and Fred roll their eyes. “But I can’t make anything but dung bombs.”

“Then, you’re out of luck,” Ginny stood up, dusting off her pants. 

Before she could leave, George bolted up and grabbed her wrist. “Gin!” He yelled, “You know how to knit, yeah?”

“Uhm,” she looked to Fred for assistance, “I guess, Mum tried to teach me once, but I-”

“Brilliant!” George grinned, feeling his frustration seep away, “Then you’ll teach me!”

“Georgie,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I don’t really even know how to knit myself, nevertheless be able to teach you.”

“But, you’ll help?” He asked, putting his puppy dog face on.

Ginny looked at her older brother, her weakness, and let out a sigh, “Fine, whatever.” George shouted in victory, “But, you have to also write Mum and ask her because she knows more than I do. And... you have to tell Y/N that the idea was mine.”

George reached up and kissed his sister’s cheek making her scream in disgust, “Yes, done and done! You are the best sibling in the entirety of the world.”

George turned sharply and sprinted up the stairs to write a letter to his Mum.

“What the hell am I then?” Fred crossed his arms, “Toasted squid?” 

The following days were spent with Ginny and George trying, and rather unsuccessfully, to knit a sweater for you. Fred watched in the background making witty and snide comments. Molly had written back with such haste that Pigwidgeon was nearly on his last breath before arriving at Hogwarts. She sent many words of encouragement and told him that he was the absolute “sweetest” which was in large contrast to Ginny’s frustrated and rather harsh criticism.

“No! You’re supposed to go over not, George! Have you even been listening this entire time?”

“Of course I have,” George said defensively, “It’s just confusing, that’s all.”

“Why can’t we just use magic?” Ginny whined.

“Because then it wouldn’t be homemade, hence the word, home, little sister.” George frowned, “What does it matter anyway? She won’t like it.” 

“Georgie,” Fred pushed off of the wall he was leaning on, “Stop being such a worry-wart.” He patted a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N is the sweetest girl, just because she’s richer than Merlin knows and can afford whatever she wants and doesn’t have to care about-”

“Alright, get on with it, Fred,” George warned.

“She’ll love it no matter what.” Fred finished, sending his twin a much needed reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” George sighed and picked up the needles once again. “Now, what the hell do I do again?”

By the time your anniversary approached, you were nearly bouncing with joy. You had gotten George the perfect present, something he’d never ever expect. Thankfully, your anniversary landed on a Sunday so you woke up and rushed to get ready in the morning. George waited, anxiously, on the stairs for you until you emerged. 

Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, George was nearly breathless upon seeing you. He gulped as you walked down, seeing the gold necklace your parents had gifted you for your last birthday and pearl earrings they’d given you after getting amazing marks on your exams. 

“Hi,” you said softly, locking your fingers with his.

“Hi, darling,” he said back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you sighed contently and began to walk to the portrait.

“Now, what shall we do on our momentous day of love?” George asked, swinging your joined hands. 

You pulled your bag up closer on your shoulder and smiled back.“I think,” you paused, “we should go on a walk. A long, romantic walk.”

“Then a walk we shall take!” George led the way, pulling you through the corridors making you giggle. 

It was a delightful day spent with kisses and fond memories. You snapped a few photos of your boyfriend with the old camera you had bought.

“Now, I’ll never understand,” George raised his eyebrow, “Why you have a camera older than time itself rather than one of those new, fancy-schmancy cameras.”

You looked admiringly at the photo your camera just printed. As it developed, you could see the two of you, cheeks pressed together, you with a shy smile and George with his tongue sticking out. Another photo you had taken moments before was a snapshot of George’s lips pressed to your cheek and you could just make out the blushing on your face.

“Well,” you looked back up at your boyfriend, “I just happen to love old, worn things I suppose. Why do you think I’m with you?” you added, teasingly.

“Oi,” he defended, “ ‘m only a few months older than you, love. And I’m not worn, I’m newer than a baby’s bottom. You’re the only girl ‘ve been with.” 

“Only? As in there will be more?” you asked, a taunting tone on your tongue. George looked at you, as lovingly and as gentle as he ever could, and thought nothing more of the life you two would have. Happy, content, any other words that describe a healthy and romantic relationship. His thoughts began to waver at the idea of how he’d only be able to afford a small flat, that is if the joke shop even took off in the first place. He thought of all the expensive things he could never afford and how you may resent him. As you looked at him, you thought of the happy children you’d have and the copious amounts of dogs and cats you’d care for. George swallowed harshly.

“Only.” He repeated. You blushed once again and leaned to kiss him. The feeling of your touch on his made George fall quicker, deeper, and madly in love. 

After dinner in the Great Hall, in which George absolutely refused for anyone to sit next to or in front of you in order to make it more “private,” the two of you were laid, cuddled on your bed. George could feel the anxiety and panic set in when he realized soon he’d be giving the girl of his dreams a disappointing gift. 

You hummed, sweet with content, and put your chin on his chest. “I’ve never been happier.”

“I’m so glad,” George ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the stray ones behind your ear. “But,” you said as you sat up, “I do believe anniversaries come with a certain type of exchange.”

“Oh?” George asked, sitting up as well. His fingers felt knotted and his throat was closing up. He had sneaked his gift in, awfully wrapped in some colorful parchment, and placed it under your bed.Be confident, George pleaded and tried his best to act cooly. 

“I’ll go first, may I please, please go first!” you begged. 

George bit his tongue, much preferring he’d go first in order to deal with the disappointment before anything and also give you a chance to dump his impoverished arse.

“Of course, darling,” he nodded making you squeal in delight. George breathed deeply and closed his eyes, holding his hands out as he usually did when you gave him gifts. In his hands, he could feel a box wrapped with a bow.

“Alright, go on!” you nodded eagerly. George let out a shaky breath before carefully removing the bow and lifting the lid. To his delight, he picked up a pair of wool socks that were embroidered with small hearts on the sides. “It’s-”

“Socks!” you finished for him, “Because you get cold feet, remember? Now, when you are playing Quidditch or cold at night, you can wear them and think of me!” George broke out in a grin and thanked the heavens for his girlfriend and all the luck in the world that it took for him to find her. “I love them.” 

“Really?” you asked, pointing at the hearts, “I did those myself!” 

“They look wonderful, I absolutely adore them.” He leaned and kissed you. 

The kiss was long as George put a hand on your neck to pull you closer. His lips moving against yours made butterflies take flight and your bones become weaker. As he pulled away, you rested your forehead on his trying to catch your breath.

“My turn?” George asked making you nod. George pulled out his crappily wrapped gift, that Ginny told him off for, and put it in the bed. 

“Oh! Wrapped it yourself, I see?” you teased. George nodded proudly, becoming more and more confident in his gift. 

As you lifted your fingers to rip the paper off, you paused and faced him with another sly smile.

“Alright! Okay, I was going to save it till the end of the night, but I simply cannot wait.” George’s eyes widened as you jolted off of the bed. “You didn’t think I only got you socks, did you?” you asked, moving towards the trunk at the end of your bed.

“No, wait, Dear, the socks are lovely, I don’t need another-”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it!” you sent him a wink, “Now, this one is the actual gift.”

“Actual gift?” George stuttered.Pulling out a large object, larger than your entire frame, George clenched his jaw. You struggled a bit to put it on the bed but managed and sat down in front of him.

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” your voice made him wince a bit.

You watched in utter excitement as George began to slowly unwrap his gift. Removing all the paper, George nearly fainted seeing his gift. A new broom, one of the best in the world, something he’d never ever be able to buy for himself. A broom, costing more than Merlin knows galleons. 

“So!” you bounced, “Do you like it? I saw at your other games, that bludger took out part of the tail end of your broom and I could not live with myself if you had an accident due to a faulty broom! I went and got it myself,” you said proudly. 

“And! It’s the fastest, rarest, and nicest type of wood, with a partially enchanted seat to help you stay upright!”

George’s hands shook, holding the broom.

“I-”

“Speechless? That was my entire goal!” you raised your fist in victory. 

“Y/N-”

“I know! And, not to mention, now you can wear your socks during the game! Two gifts in one!”

“Y/N-”

“I debated on getting you new gloves, but they wouldn’t be shipped in till middle of November and-”

“Y/N,” George said softly but firmly making you look at him with concern. You had never seen this facial expression on George as his eyes were nearly welled with tears and his lip was red from his biting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frantically, “is it the wrong size? I gave the shopkeeper your height and everything-”

“No,” George said, putting the broom to lean on the wall next to your bed. “I can’t take this.”

“What do you mean? Love, I got it for you!” you laughed, waving your hand.

“No, Y/N, I seriously cannot take this.” You frowned, 

George’s voice was shaky making your heart drop. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too expensive-”

“Nonsense, I saved up for it!”

“Baby,” George said, small and timid, “I cannot accept any more expensive gifts from you.” 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, leaning forwards to grab one of his hands, “the price doesn’t matter to me, I literally could not care,”

“But I care.” George protested. 

You nearly began to cry as you saw a tear dripped down George’s cheek. You sat up so you were sitting on your knees and gingerly placed your hands on his cheeks.

“My love, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?” you whispered, rubbing soft strokes with your thumbs. 

“I...” George struggled to find the words to describe how awful he felt, “I cannot take your gifts. And... and I’ll never be able to give you these types of gifts.”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you began to furiously shake your head, “George Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll never be able to give you expensive things like necklaces or pearls or nice perfumes or nice suppers at fancy restaurants. I’ll never be able to give you the gifts you deserve. You deserve to be treated like a princess or a queen or anything and I cannot give you that, I can’t.” George let out.

You thought of his words in utter disbelief. Never once did you ever think of George’s economic standing and neither did you care. 

“But you do treat me like a princess,” you encouraged, making George moan with more tears, “You do. You tuck me in when I’m all tired from classes and make me cuppa’s in the morning. You massage my shoulders when I’m stressed and you hold my hand when you know I’m anxious.” You pushed his head up so your eyes met, “I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t care if you cannot give me expensive gifts or fancy dinners or anything, I care that you love me and want me to be by your side.”

“But, you give me all these-”

“I do it because I love giving you gifts! I love seeing you smile. And not all my gifts are expensive, sometimes I give you flowers I’ve seen or biscuits from the Great Hall. My darling, you do not need to worry if I feel as though you cannot provide for me, because you provide more than enough for me. I don’t care about money or gifts or anything like that.” you assured. 

George went silent and you began to pepper his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses until he cracked and started to smile. 

“I’ve just got the best girlfriend ever, haven’t I?” George asked, pulling you onto his lap. 

You curled into his chest and nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was quiet between you two again until you chimed up, “Well... may I have my gift now?”

“Uhhh, it’s uhh,” George stuttered. “It’s not amazing.”

“Don’t care!” you grinned and picked up his gift. “I’m so excited, I could nearly pee myself.”

George jokingly shoved you, “Oi, blimey well don’t do that. Not while you’re sitting on me at least.” 

You shoved him back before opening his gift. George held his breath as you unraveled the present and saw his gift. Your heart nearly stopped. You picked up the sweater, moving the parchment aside, and placed it on your lap. The sweater was yellow and made with soft wool. On the front, there was a badly made daisy, the flowers you always got for him during the Spring. Touching the fabric softly, tracing over each petal you stared at.

“I know it isn’t much but-” Before George could finish his apology, you took him by surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. Pressing kisses on the crook of his neck, he could feel your smile.

“I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“With all my heart, I’ve never been given something handmade nor something so sweet.”

“I made it... myself.”You picked up the sweater and laughed, “I can tell. How long did it take you?”

George paused, thinking and smiling sheepishly, “A few weeks maybe.”

“And you made it all by yourself? No magic?”

“No magic,” George confirmed, “But, Ginny did help me... she and Fred helped me come up with the idea.”

You shifted in George’s lap, moving so you could toss off the blouse you were wearing and shrugging the sweater on. It was warm and smelled of honey and pine and the string he had used made you feel as if you were wrapped in a hug of his. 

“George... I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” 

George blushed a deep red as you kissed first his cheek and then his lips.

“You’re welcome, Darling. I’m just glad I’ve finally given you a good enough gift.”

“Well,” you kissed the skin of his neck, “I’ll wear it every day. But...”

“But?” George asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“But, I think right now, I’d like it off,” you suggested, lowering your eyes at him.

“Off?” George asked confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Oh, off!”

“You’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snorted before pulling George in for another kiss.  

[aciid-eater]

Tanaka Ryuunosuke x Black! Reader fluff/nsfw

Summary: when a special song turns a hangout into something more intense.

Warnings: Oral(receiving), great music, praise, body worship.

“Who?” Tanaka asked, laid out on y/n’s bed with his hands behind his head. The sun was beginning to set outside of her window, soft orange hues bathing the room in a nice glow. His shirt was thrown off somewhere to the side, forgotten along with his shoes.

Opening his eyes, he watched with full interest as y/n stood from her desk chair.

The sun had always been beautiful on her skin, turning a warm brown into liquid gold. It always made his heart flutter, counting the seconds before the sunlight would be on its way.

“Sza. An American artists.” Y/n clarified, voice low and smooth.

Tanaka liked the way she talked to him, the way she giggled and said his name.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to understand it.” He pouted just a bit, looking to the ceiling and closing his eyes again. His face began to rise in temperature as the feeling of a nimble hand appeared on his chest. A light finger traced the skin between his pecs, slowly going down until it reached the beginning of his happy trail. To keep from squirming, his eyes shot open, his face very well red now.

Y/n peered under her eyelashes down onto his form, eyes a warm honey color from the sun. She was absolutely beautiful. It was times like these that made him wonder how much longer he could torture himself like this. The longing feeling of wanting to hold and caress and girl who never saw him as more than a friend was eating him up inside. 

“She has sort of an accent while singing, I don’t think you would be able to understand even if you were better at English.” She mumbled.

“Move back.” He obeyed her word like law, using his palms to push himself back so his waist wasn’t hanging off the bed.

Y/n slid both of her warm hands up his chest and moved her leg over his waist. Tanaka used his hands to steady her, long fingers gripping her hips. She stratled his lap carefully, then she pulled her phone out the pocket of her sweatshirt.

Finally she tapped her phone screen a couple times, then a fluttering melody began to flow from the speakers.

“She’s one of my favorites. I play her music a lot.” Y/n commented, reaching out to run her hands over Tanaka’s collarbone. She was always so gentle when touching him, almost as if she thought he would break. He leaned his head back against the sheets, trying to take his mind off the pretty girl on his lap.

“Her voice does sound familiar.” He mumbled, closing his eyes.

Y/n smiled, reaching out her grasp his face in her hands. She began humming softly, running her thumbs over the skin on his cheeks and over his eyebrows.

She always felt lost at sea with him. As if nothing else mattered around them except each other.

Tanaka reached up, wrapping his hands loosely around her wrists and rubbing the inside of them. Opening his eyes slowly, he was once again breathless in awe at scene infront of him.

“The sun has always done you justice.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean by that?” She asked. His hands slid up and placed themselves over hers on his face.

“I mean you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” He said. Y/n’s heart skipped a couple beats. She held her breath, afraid that If she were to breathe, it would blow away this moment she didn’t want to end.

“Close your eyes for me one more time?” She asked. Although confused, Tanaka followed her instructions. And he was pleasantly surprised with the gentle kiss her plush lips left on his own.

It didn’t last long, she pulled away, rested her forehead on his and staring into his eyes. He pulled one of his large hands from over hers and softly grasped y/n’s chin. The way her lips molded over his was intoxicating. Opening her mouth just a little, she moaned when his tongue slipped inside. She tasted sweet, like chocolate. Her hand wandered down his neck, fumbling her fingers over his collarbone. After a few minutes, she finally pulled back, filling her lungs with air.

“Fuck...” she stated breathlessly, placing a hand on his chest and sitting up. As she settled her weight, she let out an abrupt whine as her damp underwear came in contact with the bulge in Tanaka’s shorts. Cautiously, she swirled her hips over his crotch, watching as his eyes rolled back and he let out a low hiss.

“Y/n.” He mumbled lowly in an octave that made her shudder.

“Ryu...” she whined, squirming over him a bit more to get her point across. His back arched off the bed just a bit, his hands reaching out the grasp her thighs. Her fingers toyed under the waistband of his short, using it as leverage to grind her desperate cunt down on him.

“Please.” She whispered, eyebrows scrunching up in need.

Tanaka’s breath caught in his throat, his brain getting fuzzy as his his underwear got painfully tight.

Then finally, with the looped song still strolling in the background, he picked her up with one swift movement and placed her at the edge of the bed.

“Whatever you want.” He mumbled into the crook of her neck, pulling at the hem of her sweatshirt. Finally pulling it off, he tossed it off to the side and immediately his lips attached to her jaw. He made slow work down her neck, testing ever single spot with his lips. He left little heart shaped hickeys in places that made her squirm with need.

“Ryu please, I need you-“ y/n’s fingers pulled at his shorts, trying to get him to take them off. But one of his strong hands caught her wrists and held them still, his other hand kneading into her hip.

“We’re gonna get there, let me take my time with you, beautiful.” He stated, somehow unclasping her bra with one hand. Something like this could either make their relationship, or break their friendship so he would be damned if he didn’t enjoy it while it lasted.

Y/n gasped as his mouth came in contact with one of her nipples. His mouth was so warm as he flicked it around with his tounge. She arched her back foward, rubbing her thighs together as Tanaka moved her wrists in the air above her head and switched sides. He left hickeys all over her collarbone and her chest. Leaning back, he smiled at his work, flicking one of y/n’s nipples softly. He snickered when she yelped.

Finally he let her wrists go and softly he pushed her back onto the mattress, pulling her little shorts off and tossing them to the side.

“Those little things have always driven me crazy.” He mumbled, leaning over and placing a kiss right in the valley of her breasts.

“Good, that’s what I bought em for.” She replied.

Tanaka’s lips traveled down her stomach next. Y/n squirmed in anticipation as he pressed his fingers against her clit through her underwear.

“You’re soaked.” He mumbled in astonishment. He wasted no time hooking his fingers under the fabric and pulling them off completely.

His mouth was everywhere but where she do desperately needed him. He placed kisses all long her her calfs, ankles, thighs and stomach. Y/n’s breath hitched everytime he made another bruise on the soft skin of her inner thighs.

“Ryu baby, I need you so bad, please just-“

Y/n’s hands balled up the sheets beside her in anticipation. She didn’t want to rush him but fuck, he was taking so long.

Tanaka chuckle, watching y/n’s face flush as she sighed. Finally relenting, he pulled both her thighs onto his shoulders. One hand reached up to intertwine with hers, and the other moved to hold her cunt open.

Y/n let out a long whine as as Tanaka’s lips wrapped around her clit. Her free hand immediately came down to rest on the back of his head, not pushing, but just a soft weight.

“You taste so sweet.” He mumbled teasingly, the vibrations sending shivers up her spine.

“Ryu..” Her moans were so soft and delicate, they made Tanaka shiver as he flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves. He was so hard it hurt, but he wanted to make her cum before he did.

Tanaka’s eye rolled back as y/n’s thighs clamped around his head. He lifted his free hand just to smack her outer thigh and hear her little Yelp.

And as y/n got closer to the edge her moans came out in shorter bursts. Her ankles locked behind his head, making Tanaka reach down and begin palming himself through his shorts. Various slurping noises could be heard just over the melody of the looped song. But it wasn’t enough to drown out y/n’s cry of relief as her release washed over her.

“That’s right, cum in my mouth pretty girl.” Tanaka moaned, slurping her up as her legs came down off his shoulders. Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Tanaka wiped the cum dribbling off his chin with two of his fingers. Y/n’s cunt clenched around nothing as he stood off his knees and lifted her chin with his opposite hand.

“Open for me.” He stated. She obeyed, opening and swirling her tongue around his fingers. Tanaka bit his lip, following the way her plush lips puckerered around his digits.

He wasted no time losing his shorts and letting his cock spring free. Pulling a condom from the pocket of his wallet, he slipped it on and ushered Y/n to lay back against the bed.

His hand rubbed over her hip as he tested the waters, pushing the tip in and out of her. Finally confident enough, he slowly pushed all the way in, catching one of y/n’s warm hands and interlocking their fingers.

She gasped at the feeling, she felt full as her walls clenched around him. His stroked started out slowly, fully in and out as he moved around for a spot he knew would have her weak.

Suddenly a loud moan was ripped from her throat, her eyes rolling back as Tanaka aimed to hit that spot again.

“You look so pretty like this...ngh taking my cock like a good girl.” He growled, speeding his hips up as he began pounding into her.

At the cry of his name, Tanaka leaned over flush with her chest to bite at her bottom lip. Her free hand clawed at his back, creating marks he knew he would have to explain to the volleyball team in the change room later.

“Fuck Ryu!” She cried, every sweet drag of his hips was sending her hurtling towards cloud 9.

“Don’t stop don’t stop, right there!” She squirmed under him, trying to stop herself from screaming into the air.

“You like it when I fuck you like this huh?” He smirked, slowing down just a bit.

“Yes!” Y/n cried.

“Say it.” Tanaka smiled. “Say it for me and I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.”

His hand trailed down the leg over his shoulder and slapped her ass.

“NGH- fuck I-I love it when you fuck me like th-this!” She cried, legs shaking as Tanaka sped his thrusts to be even faster than before.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” He asked, moving so hard that the sound of skin slapping almost drowned out the music.

“You are!” She yelled, head leaning back on the mattress as her back arched into his touch.

“Look at me, look at me pretty girl.” He demanded. Y/n lifted her head, catching his eyes in her half lidded ones.

“Now cum.” He said softly. Immediately y/n’s walls fluttered and she made a mess all around his cock, Tanaka following not too far afterwards.

He pulled out of her with a small ‘pop’. And after throwing away the condom, he put his boxers back on and threw y/n his shirt. Grabbing her phone off the floor, y/n pressed pause on the loop video. It was dark outside now, and well past 9 o’clock.

“So, what did you think about the song?” Y/n asked with a tired smile, leaning back on her pillows.

“It’s a beautiful song, though I like it better when the adlibs are you moaning my name.” He snickered, climbing on the bed and leaning his head on her stomach.

“That’s the power of Sza music.” Y/n yawned, letting her eyes flutter until she eventually fell asleep.

[madame-fear]

Hiya Darling

I’ve also been feeling kinda down lately idk with like my looks and just feeling unlovable yknow when ugh life. So like i know i just recently asked for a comforting josh templeton work but can i get another serving of some either jonathan or josh comforting reader. One of thos “no one would pick me in a room of girls” type of situations you get me. So sorry if this is too deep and totes ruining the mood right now my apologies.

~the super cool and amazing 🦈

Hello babe!! ❤ Ohh my dear, I don't like to hear that 🥺 No one should feel that way! You're amazing and so cool!! Remember that there's always there who truly loves you for who you are, and cares for you.

I understand how you feel, because I've felt that way before (and still do quite often), and it's horrible. So, if you ever need to talk to someone about it, feel free to contact me whenever you want! My DM's are always open 🥰💕

I originally was going to write this one for Gotham! Jonathan, but finally decided to write it for Josh Templeton bc I know (and imagine) you like reading about him 🥰

Here it goes, my dearest!! Enjoy your reading, and hope it makes you better🥺❤

WARNING: Mentions of self-hate (and speech), reader feels awful and is kind of depressed, and some slight cussing. Starts with Angst, ends with some fluff.

______________________________________

Bad Liar | Josh Templeton x Fem!Reader

Dreadfulness consumed your entire body, making you feel lifeless, not wanting to do anything else but just lay on your bed and stare at the roof on your now dark bedroom. You were having one of those moments where you felt entirely like shit, awful, unlovable...ugly, even. You weren't even able to look ar yourself in the mirror, you currently despised yourself.

You skipped a few days of school, since you had called in sick. You didn't have the motivation nor energy to get out of your house and deal with all the usual chaos of the school. You just needed some time alone to process all your emotions, hoping for this awful sensation to go away soon. You had received a few calls, which you assumed it was from your friends, but you never picked up the phone. The last thing you needed was to talk to someone, not even with your friends.

Taking a deep sigh, you shifted to your side in bed, and mindlessly stared at the window, even if you couldn't see anything outside since they were covered by the curtains. You weren't even thinking about anything, your presence was just there as you tightly hugged yourself. The soft, cold breeze hitting against your window.

Suddenly, the sound of your front door being open made you quickly sit in bed, and guide your eyes from your window to your bedroom's door. Adrenaline rushed in your whole body, unsure of what was yet to come. You softly gripped yourself from the lamp that stood on your nightstand, ready to hit whoever came inside your home.

"(Y/N)?" A familiar voice called, making you sigh with relief. You had forgotten about the fact that your best friend, Josh, had a key to enter your home whenever he wanted.

The strong grip you previously had on your lamp slowly softened, knowing that there was no threat to be aware of, sighing once again. It didn't take long until your bedroom door was opened, quietly creaking. His tall figure appeared through your door, and saw you sitting on bed, holding the lamp near your chest. "Fuck off, man. You scared the shit out of me." You softly scolded him, your voice tone was low and unexpressive. He simply scoffed at your comment, walking towards you, and immediatly plopping down on the edge of your bed.

"So..." you said, raising an eyebrow towards him. "What are you here for?" You asked, your voice and face were still expressionless. You didn't feel like talking to someone, but deep down inside, you were glad that he was there with you. It was as if you so badly needed him to be there, without you even being aware of it. "Why do you think I'm here? Because I'm worried about you, (Y/N)." There was something about his comment that made you feel...oddly emotional, it was like it made you drown with sorrow. You couldn't believe someone as sweet and caring as him could be worried about someone like you.

"Please, (Y/N). I know you're not sick, you're a really bad liar. I know there's something else going on. What is it? Tell me." He carefully grabbed both your hands, softly squeezing them. He placed one of his hand on top of yours, and the other one at the bottom, leaving your hands in the middle. You couldn't bare holding your emotions, you needed to release everything. These last few days you felt as if you couldn't let your emotions out, you couldn't even cry...but somehow, he made you feel overwhelmed with all the feelings you've held for so long. "It's just that..." You began speaking, taking a deep breath before you could continue. "Life is going on, Joshua!" That's it. You completely lost it, you couldn't hold it anymore. Without even realising, several tears began escaping through your eyes, and running through your cheeks.

"No one would pick me in a room full of girls!" You were now practically drowning in your own tears and sobbing. "I hate myself so much, Josh..." Some gentle sobs escaped your lips as you spoke. "I can't even look at myself in the mirror, I just feel so ugly and so unlovable, I'm so, so worthless..." Instinctively, not being able to look at him in the eyes out of shame, you looked down at your lap, as some tears left both your sweater and your pants with small wet spots from the tears, and began violently sobbing. He had never seen you this way before, which provoked his heart to drop at the sight of you in such a bad state. Without a single thought, he released both your hands, and quickly wrapped you in the warmth of his arms, tightly pressing you against his chest as you sobbed.

He softly played with strands of your hair, and rubbed your back in a comforting way. "That's not true. None of what you just said is true." He softly spoke, trying to soothe you. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his body, and hearing his soft voice speak made you calm down a bit. "You're the most amazing person I could ever met, I never stop thinking about how lucky I am to know someone like you, you know that?" His sweet words made you force yourself to stop sobbing. Even if you didn't want him to see your reddish face so messy due to all the recent crying, he placed some fingers under your chin and forcing you to look at him. His icy blue eyes pierced through your soul in a different way...like no one had ever done before in your life. With his other hand, he gently wiped away your tears with his fingertips. The closeness between you two made your cheeks get reddish.

"You only say that because you must pity me." Your voice was too weak to speak, breaking in the middle of your talking, your voice tone lower than usual. The way he deeply stared into your eyes gave you goosebumps, it made you feel weak under his touch. "No, I don't. I mean it. I love you so so much, (Y/N)." He briefly paused before continuing, noticing that your eyes widened at his sudden confession. "In a room full of girls, I would pick you. You're so different...different than most girls I've seen in my life. Your personality is so witty and enchanting, you're so unique. I wouldn't replace you for anything in the world." He was certainly getting into your heart, now. A small smile began forming on your lips as he kept talking, the blush on your face didn't fail to increase. "You're not unlovable, you're not worthless, and certainly, you're not ugly."

The tight your arms previously had around his body softened, and it was like you didn't feel overwhelmed anymore; you felt like someone truly cared about you. "You shouldn't compare yourself to other girls, and you shouldn't try to be like them. I love you just the way you are, and will always do. I promise I'll always be by your side, and I'll help you deal with the usual shitty chaos of life if you ever need to. Just... don't call yourself worthless or ugly, you're the best fucking thing that ever happened to me in this stupid world." You certainly had a broad smile on your lips. Your heart fluttered with love at the sweet, dedicated words he just told you.

Too perplexed to talk, you nervously licked your lips and looked down to your lap out of shyness, trying to hide your obvious flustered face. "You..." You paused for a moment, and looked up back again at him. "You really mean it?" Your question made him scoff, and a smile immediatly formed on his lips. He carefully grabbed your soft hand, caressing it with his thumb, and placed the other hand on your cheek. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, he gently smashed his lips against yours, causing yourself to tense up at the sudden moment. Were you imagining things? Well, actually, no. This was truly happening, and it was more real than you could ever believe.

It took you a few seconds until your body relaxed at the new sensation of his plushy lips against yours. Slowly closing your eyes, you gave up, and practically melted into the kiss. You placed on hand on his chest, and the other one ran through his hair, leaving it a bit more messy than it usually is. He, somehow, always managed to brighten up your days with a single smile, or just one touch, and to make you feel as if you were the only girl in the world...he made you feel so incredibly special, like no one had ever done before. At the feeling of his lips suddenly breaking apart the kiss, you slowly opened your eyes again, blinking a few times. "Does that answer your question?" He said. A sly smile formed on his beautiful face, while you just goofily smiled and tried to hold in your nervous giggles. "I‐I think that does...yeah."

His hand was still placed on your cheek, and he stared at you, just absolutely lovestruck at the sight of you being so awkwardly adorable. That was a whole new moment for you, which caused you to rub one of your arms up and down, trying to comfort yourself and make the nervousness fade away. "T-Thank you...for everything." You looked at his beautiful blue eyes, whom not even for second stopped looking directly into yours. "You shouldn't thank me, you deserve all the best in the world, only for you." A few giggles escaped away from your lips, which caused his heart to flutter with pure love. Without saying anything else, he threw himself on you, and embraced you in a tight hug, rocking your bodies to your sides in a sweet way.

"I think, I should call in sick too, don't you think?" He softly asked, his voice tone was low. You nodded in agreement, as you rubbed his warm back. "You should. Stay with me, please." He softly giggled at your comment. Slowly breaking apart the hug, he gave you a kiss on your cheek, provoking anlther blush to creep in your face.

"I'll stay with you. I love you, and will always do." He said, grabbing both your hands once again, as he deeply stared into your eyes.

Certainly, you were going to spend a nice and good time with him. You didn't feel alone or unlovable anymore...you felt accompanied with someone who truly cared and worried for you. His loving and warm presence was just enough to make you feel happy and comfy, and for him, that was all he needed. Only you, and your beautiful big smile.

[anxious2dsimp]

Reki, Miya and langa from sk8 ☁️♀

Hi anon! Thank you for requesting Sk8, I've been waiting for this one, turn it up >:) Since you didn't specify theme or format I'm just gonna write a random fluffy drabble for each!

Random Fluffy Drables! | Reki, Langa, & Platonic!Miya

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Pairings: Reki x Reader, Langa x Reader, Platonic!Miya & Reader

Flavor: Fluff ☁️

Reader: Fem!Reader (she/her)

Format: Drabbles

Warnings: None!

A/N: I decided Miya's is gonna be platonic bc I feel comfortable writting about him that way, sorry!

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Reki

If there's two things that are consistent about Reki is that he loves skateboarding more than anything and he's great at it. How you managed to change those two main things about the redhead not even a minute into meeting him is truly baffling. It was a sunny afternoon when Reki was aimlessly riding his skateboard around town, his eyes drifting around the relatively busy store-filled street. That was, until you came out of one of the buildings a couple stores ahead, because once he spotted you he couldn't look away. You were putting on your headphones, brushing the hair out of your face to reveal the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, features graced by the warm sunlight as your eyes were lost somewhere among the clouds. A million thoughts raced through his mind; would it be creepy to approach you, there's no way you'd notice him, maybe he could impress you with a cool trick? Unfortunately for him he had nearly caught up to you and couldn't make up his mind, but suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts by a thunk and a force propelling him forward. He was so busy looking at you he didn't notice the uneven sidewalk, his front wheels getting stuck and sending him flying only to land in front of you. "Oh my god, are you ok?" You asked worriedly as you crouched down before the stranger that had been catapulted by his board. "I- uh- hi?" Reki sounded more panicked than you were, and mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot, but the sound of your stiffled laugh made him stop that line of thought in an instant. "Hi, please tell me you're ok, or else I should really stop laughing," you commented wittily as you offered him your hand. "No, it's fine! I'm fine, you can keep laughing, it sounds so pretty you're making me feel better," Reki confessed as he took your hand and brought himself up, dusting his jeans before his cheeks begun burning a darker shade of red when he lifted his gaze to meet your flustered face. Did he really just say that outloud? He must have hit his head hard then. "Thanks! I'm (y/n), and you are?" God, you're smile was making his heart race more than S. "Reki," he said, probably a little to quickly, but at that point he didn't care. "Well, Reki, you should probably be more careful when you're skating," you teased, silently hoping your conversation didn't end there and he was as intrigued in you as you were in him. Little did you know that he would try his best to get to see you again, because in that brief interaction, you had transformed his world and what he thought he knew.

Langa

"Langa! you were amazing out there," you exclaimed breathily as you jumped into your friend's arms after him winning the S race. The pale boy squeezed you in response and thanked you, his smile still ecstatic from all the adrenaline. "We've been friends for so long, I can't believe this is the first race you ever invite me to," you said once he put you down, only half joking. "To be fair, S is kind of dangerous, but it surprises me too," Langa said truthfully, but before you could reply you heard some new voices behind you. "Who's the new slime?" "Langa brought a girl, he's learning from me!" "Well this is unprecedented." You whirled around to find a black-haired middle schooler, and three rather unique looking adults. Not really knowing what to reply, you were lucky your other friend Reki made his way past them and introduced you in the process. "This is (y/n), Langa and I's friend from school," the redhead said proudly. After they introduced themselves, you made some small talk with the group, but had to excuse yourself to reply to a phonecall. "So, Snow, what's up with you two?" Joe asked as he wiggled his brows. "What do you mean?" Langa replied, clueless as ever as everyone else stared in disbelief. "We mean that this is the first person you invite to S, and whenever you look at her your eyes sparkle like you're talking about skateboarding," Cherry attempted to clarify. "Or how during the race you pulverized the guy who was hitting on her earlier," Shadow chimed in once he saw Langa was still not getting it. "They're asking if you like her bro," Reki said with a rowdy smile as Langa turned totally red at the suggestion. "Wha- I care for her as a friend! Right? That's what friends do?" Langa didn't know why he was getting defensive, but he felt that his heart was gonna explode if they didn't change the subject. "Well, your slime buddy is getting hit on again," Miya said, slightly amused as he pointed with his head. Langa's body moved before he could even tell, and next thing he knew he was standing beside you as he silently glared at the guy he won against. "I'm sorry," the guy who was now clearly uncomfortable said as he lifted his arms in fake surrender, "I should have known you two were together." You just became a flustered mess, watching the guy leave as you turned to face your friend, stoic as ever but with a faint pink dusting his cheeks. "What was that about?" You asked. "You looked uncomfortable," he stated simply as he grabbed your arm, softly dragging you back to the group, who were all smiling knowingly. "Also, I wouldn't oppose to it y'know," his voice was barely above a whisper, but you were sure you heard him right, the sound of your heartbeat filling your ears immediately after. That night definitely was important for your relationship, just not in the "friendly" way you both initially thought.

Miya

Miya's gaze fell to the floor as his name was called to come up front for the freestyle skateboarding competition he was at. You had promised to come see him and support him like the good friend you were, but had yet to show up, leading the boy grit his teeth to bear the dissapointment that weighed him down. 'Of course (y/n) wouldn't show up, she's another slime, I should have known I'm stuck in a single player game,' Miya thought to himself as he walked up to the center of the area, readjusting his helmet while turning to face the judges. He was so caught up in his head that he didn't notice the commotion going on in the corner, where amongst the crowd whispered complains were heard followed by a seemingly neverending loop of apologies. Out of breath and hoping you weren't late you finally managed to squeeze past the group to end up in the front row before the area, seeing that much to your delight Miya had yet to start. However, your content smile at having made it in time despite your setbacks quickly vanished at the sight of his frown. Did he think you had forgotten? "MIYA! GOOD LUCK!" You yelled over the loudspeaker music and monotone sound of conversation from the crowd, the blackette's eyes instantly lighting up at the familiar voice. His eyes finally landed on you, and you could visibly tell he was holding back from grinning too hard as he gave you a small nod of acknowledgement; I'm glad you made it. After a great routine, he got off the judging area and headed to the water fountains, where you two had previously scheduled to meet. "I'm so sorry I was late, I had some problems that held me back, but I'm glad I made it on time! You were great out there," you rambled to your friend as he took a swig from his water bottle. "It's whatever," he replied contently, yet you knew something was up with the way his eyes avoided yours. "Miya, I can tell something's bothering you, y'know." After a hesitant glance, the boy sighed and finally looked you in the eye. "Sorry, it's just... I was scared you were gonna ditch me," he confessed, adding in a voice barely above a whisper, "like my old friends." Your heart broke at his words; though he kept up this unbothered facade, he did care for all of this stuff on the inside. "I would never, Miya. You're a great friend, and you deserve nothing less from me," you reassured him, giving him a tight hug that he barely reciprocated, but you knew him well enough to see that he appreciated it from the look in his eyes. "You better keep your word, or else you'd go down from being a friend-slime to a regular one," he joked, earning a lighthearted chuckle from both of you as the sadness cleared from the air around you two.

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[romioneficfest]

I knew it would be you

Title: I Knew It'd Be You

Prompt/Day: 9 - Head Boy/Head Girl

Tumblr Name:

Rating: K+ / PG

Brief Summary: Seventh Year AU when Ron and Hermione receive their final Hogwarts letters.

******

Hermione’s hands shook as she held the Hogwarts letter in her hands. Her nerves were bubbling up, threatening a wave of nausea that would empty her stomach of the light breakfast she’d just consumed.

Just open it, Hermione. What’s the worst that can happen?

Sitting on the camp bed in Ginny’s room, she tried her best to summon her Gryffindor courage to open the letter. She could hear shouts from the garden as the massive tent was raised for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Giggles filtered through the wall as Fleur and her family were getting ready for the impending nuptials later that day. It was ironic that Professor McGonagall chose today to send out the materials lists and assignments for the upcoming school year.

The whole thing was a miracle, really; the fact that the trio were able to return to Hogwarts. Sure, Dumbledore had perished in the final battle with Voldemort, but it was all so Harry could defeat him once and for all. It was pure luck that they could recover and destroy the locket, cup and diadem, but they had.

So, after all the material Horcruxes had been destroyed, Dumbledore lured Voldemort to the castle, sacrificing himself to kill the snake so that Harry could face Voldemort one-on-one. The details were still murky, but Hermione promised Ron she wouldn’t push Harry to tell them until he was ready.

“You know, I should be the one who’s nervous, considering my O.W.L. results are in my letter,” Ginny’s voice brought Hermione out of her reverie.

Hermione sighed heavily. “I know, I know, but what if—”

“You won’t know until you open it, but if you ask me, McGonagall would be mental not to give you Head Girl.”

Hermione felt her face flush red with embarrassment at Ginny’s words. She knew she was being ridiculous over the whole thing. With a deep inhale, she slid her finger into the opening above the wax seal and pulled, tearing it open. Hermione extracted the letter and carefully unfolded it, when a large badge unceremoniously appeared and fell out of the parchment.

“I knew it!” Ginny exclaimed with glee as Hermione stared wide-eyed at the badge in her hands. “Congratulations, Hermione!”

“Th-thanks,” she responded, her voice barely a whisper.

She’d done it. Six years of hard work, and she’d earned the distinction of Head Girl. An excited cry escaped Hermione’s lips as she tucked the badge into her pocket and turned her attention to the letter. Part of her hoped that the letter would reveal who the head boy was but wasn’t surprised when it didn’t. After all, the fifth year prefect letter hadn’t.

There was a tiny sliver of hope bubbling up in her chest as she wondered if Ron had been given the Head Boy badge. She needed to find him. Setting the letter down on the camp bed, Hermione stood up and headed for the door.

“Where are you going? We have to start getting ready soon.” Ginny asked as Hermione’s hand turned the doorknob.

“Just want to check in on Harry and Ron,” Hermione attempted casually, but Ginny wasn’t fooled.

“You just want to know if Ron got Head Boy,” Ginny sniggered. “Don’t make the same mistake from fifth year.”

“I won’t,” Hermione said as she shut the door behind her.

She climbed the stairs as fast as her legs would allow, and when she reached Ron’s room, she gave a brisk knock. To her surprise, it was Harry’s voice who let out an excited, ‘Come in!’

Hermione did as she was directed and looked around only to find the room absent of Ron's presence.

“Oh, hey, Hermione. I thought you were Ginny,” Harry sounded crestfallen.

Hermione eyed the captain’s badge next to his bed and smirked. “What, were you hoping to show off your Quidditch captain status?”

“Nah, I wanted to see if McGonagall named her reserve captain, given I received a warning that my ‘captainship will be revoked if I don’t stay out of trouble.”

“And you better, especially since there’s no more Voldemort threat,” Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. “Where’s Ron?”

“Er, he was out helping with the tent. Surprised he’s not back by now…”

Harry continued speaking, but Hermione didn’t hear the rest as she hurtled down the stairs toward the garden. Luckily no one was in the kitchen to stop her as she exited out the door and looked around. She saw several other Weasley brothers, but Ron wasn’t in sight.

“Everything alright, Hermione? Or should I say Head Girl?” George asked, a knowing glint in his eye.

Hermione was taken aback by George’s comment. How could he know? “How did you—Have you seen Ron?”

“He’s over by the oak tree,” Fred chimed in.

Hermione nodded in thanks as she made her way across the garden. She hoped the twins weren’t lying to her, but she didn’t bother to question their motives as she set her sights firmly on the large oak tree ahead — the one she’d taken to lounging under as her friends trained on the makeshift quidditch pitch. As she approached the tree, she saw Ron leaning against it, his letter in hand.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” Hermione said as she sidled up next to him.

He startled, looking around to the source of her voice as he tried to hide the parchment quickly. “Oh, er, hey.”

“What’s wrong?” Hermione frowned.

Things may have been better between them, but that didn’t diminish the sense of awkwardness that still hovered whenever they were alone.

“Nothing. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Hermione waved him off. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. It’s not like I’m involved in the wedding party or anything.”

“Er, yeah, right. I just thought—I didn’t mean—never mind. Did you come out here to share the news of your Head Girl badge with me, then?”

Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She hadn’t just come out here for that. It wasn’t like she was going to gloat or anything. “No, not exactly…”

“But you did get Head Girl, didn’t you?” Ron pressed.

“Er, yes, and Harry earned captain again! Although it sounds like McGonagall is keeping him on a tight leash…that’s a muggle expression, in case you didn’t know,” Hermione knew she was rambling as her eyes fixed on the ground.

It was then that her eyes caught a glimpse of Ron’s letter that lay open and forgotten on the ground next to his feet. The parchment was partially folded, but Hermione could make out the words, Congratulations, you’ve been appointed—

Her heart fluttered in her chest as hope surged throughout her body.

“Er, Ron, you wouldn’t happen to know who earned the Head Boy position, would you?” she asked tentatively.

Hermione took a chance and glanced up at him. His ears were burning red, and she was certain it wasn’t from too much sun exposure.

“Er, yeah,” he kicked the ground as he dug into his pocket to show her a badge of his own. “Not sure why they’d pick me, but—”

Hermione cut Ron off as she lunged forward and threw her arms around his neck, wrapping him in a tight hug. She was so elated that she couldn’t help herself.

“I knew it’d be you! I just knew it!”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he said through an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Will you stop it? You’re the most deserving of it, and you know McGonagall chose the person she thinks is best suited! I’m so glad it’s you.”

Hermione pulled back slightly to admonish him for his self-deprecation, realizing the implication of her words after the fact. That was when she became hyper-aware that his hands were gripping her firmly around the waist, and his face was close to hers. She felt breathless as she froze, all thoughts fleeing her mind as she noticed his eyes drift to her lips.

 She felt her mouth part slightly in response to his gaze. It wouldn’t be so hard to just lean in and...and then she felt her lips graze his cautiously and time seemed to stand still. When he didn’t move or reciprocate the gesture, Hermione was about to pull away in mortification.

But then, she felt him pull her closer, and he was kissing her back. Hermione wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, nor did she care. She was kissing Ron Weasley! Eventually, they pulled apart, and Ron broke the silence first.

“Think McGonagall will care if her Head Boy and Girl are dating?” Ron sounded hesitant as Hermione’s heart melted at his question.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she answered breathlessly, thinking of Harry’s parents.

Ron broke out in a wide grin at her response as Hermione matched it with her own. “Brilliant,” he said as he leaned in for another kiss.

Yes, brilliant indeed.

[weasleydream]

unfairness

here it is, my participation to @omgrachwrites​ writing challenge! once again, congrats for 1k love, so happy for you!!

the prompts were “I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.” ; “I really want to kiss you right now.” “Do it then.” and “This is all in my head. It’s all happening in my head.”

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

TW: the end can be a bit violent

masterlist 

We had realized our relationship wasn’t as bright as we had thought when an umpteenth rumor about us had spread between Hogwarts’ walls, at some point during our sixth year of school. It wasn’t the first, far from that, but it was definitely the worst because it also involved this Ravenclaw guy whose name was still unknown to me at the time. As far as I could tell, there had always been jealous girls that had tried to get Fred to dump me, and plenty of boys that wanted to convince me that they had more to offer than the Weasley boy. The only difference with this rumor was that Fred kinda despised said Ravenclaw boy because of a Quidditch match the year before, and he had turned his nervousness into a burst of anger I hadn’t anticipated. Problem is that, at the same time, I had heard Angelina telling Katie that Lee had told her that George had implied that Fred was seeing someone else, and just everything that had happened that year had gotten the best of me. 

Our first break up had occurred a week after we had heard about these rumours, and during the rest of our sixth year and most of our seventh until now, we had ended our relationship twice more. 

The worst in all of this was that I loved Fred. So fucking much. I loved him and I was ready to do anything for him, and I knew it was the same for him, but it was just not possible to keep a relationship as ours was. We didn’t have the same interests at all, Fred was obsessed with his shop project and me with the learning of defense against the dark arts (through Dumbledore’s army, of course). He was nonchalant and sometimes forgetful, I was fussy and very sensitive. When one of us was too busy, a date planned was quickly forgotten and the fight very likely to happen. 

That’s why, as I was in my dorm trying to choose what to wear, the main question in my mind was to know if it was worth it. A few clothes were scattered on my bed, and two pairs of boots were thrown on the floor. It had been almost half an hour and I only had twenty minutes left before having to join Fred who would probably be waiting for me in the common room. I had hoped this little preparation session would help me ease my terrible mood but it seemed that it was a fail. Finally opting for comfortable jeans and one of Fred’s sweaters - even though we were almost in June, the week had been a bit cold - I spent the rest of my time reading again some transfiguration notes. I headed downstairs exactly twenty minutes later only to find the common room completely empty. 

“Of course…” I muttered. 

As soon as the portrait opened, the noise in the corridors broke the silence I had been plunged in for an hour. Some people were talking about the coming exams, others about the next class they would have. Not once did I hear my name in a conversation, which had become quite rare with the time. I had learned the hard way that people always had something to say about my relationship with Fred, and if there wasn’t any tasty gossip, then inventing one wasn’t a problem.

I found Fred in the great hall, sitting with George, Ron and Harry. They were all talking about something that had to be classified as a defence secret considering how they suddenly became interested in everything that wasn’t me. Ron and Harry turned to Hermione, who was sitting at the table behind them, and George patted Fred’s shoulder before nodding at me and leaving without a word. It was usual, this taciturn behaviour George had when I was here; we had never gotten along that well, and if I was being honest, it was probably another problem between Fred and I. 

We headed outside and took the road to Hogsmeade. We were walking next to each other, our hands brushing every now and then without ever really touching. The distance had become natural, touches were rare now and it was in moments like these that I hated it the most. Hating on the happy couples we saw on our way was easier than trying to find something nice to talk about, so that’s what I did. Fred looked like he was lost in his world and he only gave me some attention when he pushed the Three Broomsticks’ door for me. We found a table against a window, which provided a nice warmth, and Fred put his jacket on the chair. 

“Butterbeer or hot chocolate?”

“You know the answer.” I said, playing with my sleeve.

“So it’ll be hot chocolate with chamallows for the damsel.”

He left with a smile to order our drinks, leaving me alone for a good five minutes. When he came back, a pint of butterbeer in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other, I had had plenty of time to ruminate over everything I had decided to talk about with him during the past two days. However, the chuckle that shook his shoulders when he told me about the guy who had just tripped with three bottles of butterbeer in his hands stopped me. It could be a good afternoon, and these were too rare for my liking. It happened of course, our relationship wasn’t absolute hell, but it had definitely worsened with the time. 

“Y/N, you okay? You look quite pale.” Fred was looking at me with concern in the eyes. “No, don’t tell me: I bet a galleon you’ve been working on your potion essay until very very late at night. How right am I?”

“Very right,” I muttered before passing a hand on my face. “I don’t get it. How can you spend so little time on your work without being at least a little bit nervous?”

“You know I don’t really care about all of this. I’ve got other priorities and bigger ambitions.”

“I know, but you’ll need this knowledge, won’t you?”

Fred was keen to avoid another argument, and he sighed loudly. 

“We’ve already talked about this Y/N, George and I can do without all this scolar stuff. Plenty of people have done that already.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’m sorry we’ve spent all that time arguing.” added Fred after a pause. “It’s not time we can gain back.”

“Maybe we can’t,” I began cautiously, “but we can try to do better. Try not to lose more time.”

“It’s not like we have more time to lose anyway.” Another pause. “Do you want to take a walk? Looks like it’s getting warmer outside.”

We got up and exited the pub. Indeed, the sun was higher in the sky and its rays weren’t hidden by clouds. The warmth on my face was more than welcome, and the pleasant sensation made me forget Fred’s last sentence. 

This time, he grabbed my hand and we exchanged jokes on the way back to the castle. We bumped into a few friends and even one or two professors, but most of the time it was just Fred and I. Until the moment we arrived near the castle entrance, that is. 

“Hey Y/L/N, how are you?”

A Slytherin guy stepped in front of me, obliging me to stop and pull on Fred’s hand. The least I could say was that he didn’t look pleased at all with the interruption. The Slytherin didn’t look like he gave a care and kept smiling at me. 

“I was thinking, we could go to Hogsmeade together one of these days. I mean, I guess you want to cover your back, so I’m here if-”

I wanted this pretentious git to shut up, and it looked like Fred had read in my mind because his fist collided with the nose of the guy with a disgusting noise of cracked bone. 

“That’s what you get for trying to ask my girlfriend out.” he muttered before grabbing my hand. 

I should have said something, whether thank you or are you crazy? but in all honesty I was trying to calm my heart, which was beating like crazy. It was rare to hear such words from Fred’s mouth or so it had become, but hearing him calling me his girlfriend, punching a guy that was hitting on me, that gave me hope for our couple. 

And it made it even more painful when, a few weeks later, Fred left Hogwarts with George on his broom without a word to me. Without something as simple as a glance behind. All I could do was watch helplessly as he saluted Peeves and flew away and try to process the fact that he was giving up on me. Did that mean that we weren’t together anymore? That he had decided on his own he had enough of me, that I wasn’t worth the effort? It’s right here, alone in this crowded corridor after the most crazy departure from the castle we had witnessed, that I understood the meaning of what Fred had told me back at the Three Broomsticks, during our last date. It’s not like we have more time to lose anyway. What an idiot I had been! Here I was, thinking he was talking about the war, persuaded that he was just being extremely pessimistic, when he was in fact confessing that he was going to leave the castle and basically dump me without having the decency to assume it in front of me! I got back to my dorm, trying my best to keep a neutral face as I knew most of the students I would bump into were going to search for the slightest ounce of pain on my face. I only let my walls crumble when I got to the common room, and the first sobs left my mouth when the door of the dorm was closed. 

I threw myself on my bed and grabbed the pillow that I wedged underneath my chest. The anger would come later; for now, I needed to cry as many tears as I had in stock. I stayed in my bed the rest of the day, did surprisingly well in faking sleep when the dorm filled, and spent an agitated night. When I got up the next morning, my first thought was to wonder why my head was so heavy and painful, and when I remembered, my second thought was that it was time for anger. I grabbed my prettiest shirt, slipped in a particularly fitting pair of jeans, and watched myself in the mirror, hoping to fool people enough to avoid questions. At the sight of my dull skin, my eye bags and my glossy eyes, I realized the most beautiful clothes in the world wouldn’t make me feel better, so I sighed, grabbed my bag, sighed again and left the dorm with one goal: forgetting Fred Weasley, my love for him and the pain he had caused me. 

_ _ _ 

A few months later, it had become very obvious that I had failed that goal. I was still full of resentment toward Fred and what he had done, and I was able to get really irritated when someone reminded me of him in any way. The fact that I had gotten involved completely in the Order and that most of his family was in it too didn’t help at all and it had led to a few encounters I would have given anything to avoid. Fortunately, he was busy with his joke shop and we never saw each other long enough to say more than hello. Well, that was before Mrs Weasley organized a diner at the Burrow with a few members of the Order, me included. 

She had been particularly pleased to see me, and Ginny had confessed it was because her mother was persuaded I would run away. 

“You know, because of the git I have to call my brother.” she had added with a disapproving pout. 

Ginny had been very disappointed in Fred when he had left, not because of school because she would have done the same if she could but because he had left me on the sidelines. She was a good friend and confident, and even though family was everything to her, she had assured me she would never forgive Fred for what she used to call “a very stupid mistake”. However, as I was squeezed on the couch between her and Tonks, all the support she could provide me wasn’t enough considering the fact that Fred was only a meter or two away and his eyes were fixed on me. I was repeating myself that it didn’t matter, I didn’t care, it didn’t matter, but his gaze seemed to be getting heavier as the minutes passed by. It took me a good quarter of an hour to gather enough courage to look directly at him with the idea of making him understand he was annoying me, but the strange sparkle in his eyes intrigued me more than it should and I found myself looking away faster than what my ego could accept. A few seconds later, his hand was on my shoulder. 

“Do you mind if we talk?”

Ginny’s elbow hit my ribs repetitively until I sighed. I got up without a word and lifted an eyebrow, which Fred interpreted as a positive answer and apparently as an authorization to grab my hand. 

“Don’t go too far.” I warned before removing my hand and walking toward the stairs. 

I didn’t know how this would turn out as we hadn’t had any proper conversation since he had left months ago. All this rancour I had built up was ready to resurface at any moment, and I wanted to do my best to avoid the disaster. That’s why I decided it would be better if this conversation happened on a ground as neutral as possible, which would be complicated considering the fact that I was in his childhood home, but not impossible. I settled for a room I was sure wasn’t the twins’, maybe Bill’s, and if he wondered why this choice, Fred never questioned it out loud. The door closed behind his back, and I was surprised to notice that it didn’t cause me any anxiety. 

“You look tired.” he finally said with a certain hesitation when he understood I wouldn’t speak first. 

Quite honestly, I had imagined a lot of things, but certainly not this. 

“I’m- what? What does that mean?” I added with a grunt. 

“It means I think you look tired. Is it that surprising?”

“That you’re concerned for my well-being? Since you left school without telling me and didn’t give me any news I have to admit that yes, it’s surprising!”

It was too late to contain my anger as it seemed, and I decided the best I could do was leave the room before exploding. It was without counting on Fred though, who visibly didn’t want me to leave. 

“Get out of the way Fred, there’s nothing left to say.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, there’s everything to say.”

We looked each other in the eyes for quite a long time, and I eventually sighed before looking away, too afraid of the heartbeat my heart missed. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry for what I did.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I wanted to tell you, really, I did, but things weren’t great between us and… I don’t know, I didn’t think that much.” I scoffed and took a step backward. Fred’s eyes were filled with what I had a hard time admitting was sadness - or regret, maybe? - and they followed every movement I made to sit on the bed. “Listen Y/N, back then I really loved you and I still love you now. But this thing between us… It turned out not good at all, it wasn’t healthy for us to keep it the way it was.”

“So you think you only had two options? You decided by yourself you had to choose between staying with me and keep suffering or leaving without a word?” My voice was maybe a bit louder than intended, but it was too late to keep my heart closed. He wanted a discussion, he would have it. “You never for a second imagined we could make it work again? Fred, what you did was breaking my heart, nothing else!”

“And I broke mine in the process.” 

“I- I don’t believe you. You’re the one who made the decision, you are the responsible. You are responsible!”

Fred looked away, and I could have sworn he was tearing up. All the words he could have come up with wouldn’t have changed my mind, but the tears that were now threatening to run down his face made my anger falter. It wasn’t pity but comprehension; these tears, they had covered my face so many times these last months and even before that I could recognize them undoubtedly. I was blaming Fred for leaving me, and even if I wouldn’t forgive him for the way he did it, blaming him for wanting a true breakup would be hypocritical. After all, hadn’t I thought about it myself? The only difference was that Fred had been brave enough to end it, not me. But that didn’t make the abandon any less painful, or these last months any less hard to think about. 

“Why now? It’s been months, why do you apologize now?”

Fred sniffed quietly and passed his hand on his face, wiping away a few tears in the process.

“Would you have let me apologize before?” Of course not, I would have punched him and left. “We were both hating me for what I did Y/N, and… I know I’m not pardonable, I just want you to understand that I regret and that no matter what happened, I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“I’ll be too Fred, trust me. But you’re right, you’re not pardonable.”

And I left without saying anything else, closed quietly the door between Fred and I, and it felt like it was the definitive end for us. 

_ _ _ 

Something like three weeks later, the situation of the wizarding world had worsened exponentially. Attacks from death eaters were getting more and more common, and this toward muggles, blood traitors and members of the Order. Two weeks ago, I had participated in my first real monitoring mission with Tonks, and that had made me a veritable member of the Order with all the dangers that it implied. My relationship with Fred had become a bit better after our conversation at the Burrow and he had been the first to show worry about me. An hour or so before my departure for the mission with Tonks, he had left the shop to find me and tell me to keep the Dumbledore’s Army galleon so that he could know if I was in trouble. I had accepted because I wanted him to leave but with time, I had concluded that having it with me was reassuring. I would have never admitted it in front of him though. 

A few days ago, Fred had invited me for a special evening at the shop that was organized for the presentation of a new product. He had refused to tell me anything about it and had assured me I would find it hilarious. I wanted to go but the thought of spending an evening with him still made me uncomfortable. Finally, I had accepted on the condition that Ginny was coming with me. 

The first thought that crossed my head when I apparated in Diagon Alley is that never in my life would I have thought it possible to see it so empty, so lifeless. Almost all the boutiques I had visited so many times were closed, some because the owner had stopped their activity for a question of security and others because of much darker reasons. My eyes found the only bright light of the alley and I picked up the pace to reach the twins’ shop quicker. All the customers were hurrying inside, they probably felt as oppressed as I did. 

“Here you are!” exclaimed Ginny when I reached the door. “I was beginning to think you had changed your mind. Glad you didn’t though, George told me what the new product is and it really seems fun.”

I hummed absent-mindedly as my eyes left the floor to wander around me. Trying to convince myself I wasn’t looking for Fred would have been stupid and a loss of time, so I just grumbled once more at my weakness and asked Ginny where her brother was. 

“Probably in the back shop preparing his grand entrance. Come on, let’s get closer to the stage.”

If she didn’t make any comment, I didn’t miss her smirk as she grabbed my hand to drag me through the crowd of customers. We finally reached the stage that was occupying all the space in this part of the shop, and I found an empty spot somewhere on the left. On the stage was a huge white cover that was hiding what looked like a board and a table one behind the other, and I barely had the time to think that it was a very simple installation before the twins made their appearance. Everyone cheered and especially the younger ones and Ginny. For my part, I adopted a small smile that widened when Fred winked at me - against my will, I promise. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Fred. 

“Dear customers,” continued George. 

“Let us present to you our latest product.”

“It is the result of a long work of research and development-”

“And your future darling, it’s a promise.”

George waved his wand and the cover disappeared. 

At first, the silence seemed very heavy, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in their heads to create such a thing in times like these. Then, a kid in the audience giggled, and it seemed to relax everyone; laughter burst and some were already shaking their wallet. Ginny was applauding and shaking her head. The twins’ smiles widened and they got off of the platform to reach out to their customers. 

It was fun indeed, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they truly measured the impact of what they had just done. 

_ _ _ 

“U-no-poo Fred? Really?”

Fred giggled as if I had just told him a very good joke he had never heard before. 

“You have to admit that’s pretty clever!”

“That’s not clever, that’s stupid and not fun at all and- and that’s dangerous Fred!”

His gaze softened, but he didn’t let go of that cocky smirk. 

“Y/N, would you happen to be worried?”

“No, I was just thinking your instinct for survival was better than that.” My averted eyes didn’t mislead anyone though. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for this Fred, that’s all.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” He hesitated for a second, and our eyes fell on the hand he had lifted and stopped above my shoulder. I didn’t say anything and he squeezed it gently. “These laughter earlier, that’s why we’re taking the risk. You have your way to fight the darkness, I have mine, that’s all.” I didn’t find anything to reply to that. “You know, I didn’t think you would come tonight, even Ginny was doubtful. And given the look on your face when I told you about it I thought you would refuse, really.” Fred paused and his fingers clenched lightly against my shoulder once more. “Why did you decide otherwise?”

That was a good question. Why? I had spent the last few days trying to figure out why the first answer in my head had been immediate and positive, why my heart had first beaten like crazy at the thought of seeing Fred again instead of aching as it used to, why I couldn’t hate him as much as I thought I did, as much as I thought I had to. Suddenly, some customer’s shoulder collided with my back with enough strength to make me lose my balance. The position we ended up in felt natural, as if Fred’s torso had always been there for me to rest my head on it and his hands were meant to be on my back. 

“I had missed this.” I murmured, and I felt his agreement through the vibrating of his body. 

I timidly encircled him with my own arms, and the feeling was so unhoped for, I had craved it for so long, that I found myself unable to move away from him. The more time passed by and the tighter our embrace was until it became almost difficult to breathe. 

“Maybe I should…” muttered Fred before loosening his hold, but without letting go of me. “Never again,” he added with a smile, and it didn’t take long for me to realize what it meant. “I’m not leaving you again.”

And as cliché as it could sound, I read the truth in his eyes. The pain, the regrets, the way he had been hating himself everyday for what he had done, but also comprehension because he knew I had been feeling the same. The Weasley sparkle was here too, bright and vivid and loving, and his smile was wider than every smile I had ever seen. I was probably looking the same, and if I wasn’t, I was definitely experiencing this euphoria that was shaking every cell of my body and making my heart beat so fast. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Fred’s voice was low, but it was the only thing I heard.

“Do it then.”

“Let me finish darling. I want to kiss you so bad, but I don’t deserve it, not after what I did to you. Give me some time to earn it, okay? We’ll make it work again, I’ll make it work again.”

I nodded, torn by two completely opposite emotions. I was grateful because Fred wanted us to become a loving couple again, and disappointed because I needed him, so much that it hurt. But after all this time, it wouldn’t have felt right, and after all maybe it was for the best. Suddenly, I became aware again of the noise in the shop: dozens of customers were still talking happily about their purchase and congratulating George.

“I should go back home. It’s… It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know, don’t worry.” Fred smiled and kissed my hair. I gave him my back and took barely two steps toward the door before he grabbed my hand. “Wait Y/N, I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home. It’s dangerous outside and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You shouldn’t leave your little party, Freddie. Don’t worry for me, I’ll apparate as soon as I can, okay?”

“You have the galleon, right?”

“Yes Fred, I have it, and yes I’ll warn you when I’m home.” 

He nodded and let go of my hand. I sneaked through the crowd of customers and reached the door. I was on the verge of opening it when Fred’s voice echoed. 

“Are you going to leave without a U-no-poo Y/N?”

“Who told you I needed one?”

Fred chuckled, and I only looked away when the door closed. The alley was still somber, and the same dying feeling was floating in the air, but my heart was lighter than it had been in months. I was so happy that nothing could have tarnished my joy, or so I thought. 

It’s my training as a new Order member that kicked in and made me dodge the first curse. As the only remaining window of Ollivander’s shop exploded, two dark silhouettes made their appearance between the twins’ shop and I, making it impossible for me to reach any safe place on this side of the alley. What I feared was confirmed when at least two other death eaters’ feet hit the paving stones. 

All of this had happened in a second, and I reached for the magical galleon in my pocket before anything else. An instant later, I was forced to dive to the ground with my hand still stuck in my jeans. I got up quickly and drew my wand. It was too late. Something burnt my back with such intensity that the heat spread to the core of my body. Through the excruciating pain, my dizzy brain noticed that there wasn’t a sound that left my mouth, and soon my knees hit the ground. My arms refused to obey and I found myself falling forward without anything to shield my head. The shock was brutal as the rest of the scene. The death eaters left without anything else, word or curse, and soon the noise made by their footsteps disappeared. It felt like an eternity before someone else arrived whereas it had probably been less than two minutes. Time definitely seemed to stop when I realized it was Fred. 

“Y/N, what’s- oh god, Y/N, can you hear me? Please tell me you’re still with me… Y/N!”

His arms slipped underneath my limp body. Even the heat he gave me as he was hugging me against his torso wasn’t enough to dissipate the icy cold in my bones. He was calling for help, desperate to be heard as it seemed like we were both glued to the paving stones. 

“Please Y/N, tell me- tell me I’m dreaming. This- This is all in my head, it’s all happening in my head...  Right? Y/N, say something, please!” I wished I could have reassured him, but my strength was leaving me. “I still have to gain back your love, Y/N you can’t leave me… You can’t…” 

Fred was almost sobbing now, shouting to whatever cruel god was watching him that he couldn’t live without me, screaming pleas and crying at this unfairness. His arms were still holding me, and even this feeling was slowly vanishing; soon, I wondered if I had ever felt it and the only answer I could get was the aching in my body that had nothing to do with the curse. 

Death wasn’t that bad, after all, less painful than life, and I wished Fred could read it in my mind.

[gayfrenchtoast]

Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

[mediocre-writerr]

all for us [the wilds girls]

the wilds girls x platonic fem reader

requested: I love your imagines a lot, you’re an amazing writer! I had a promt where maybe the reader is the youngest of all the girls and basically the younger sister they all never had and they all care and love for her very much (maybe short flashbacks with moments of her and the girls) and once their quarantine is over they realize she’s missing and it turns out she got internal injury or something else quite angsty and the girls do everything they can for her

*not my gif*

“So tell me about Y/N Y/L/N.” Agent Young says.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Leah asks and Agent Young nods, “Where do I even begin?” 

You were the youngest of the group. Not too much younger than them, but still younger. And just like regular siblings being the youngest had its perks and downfalls.

For one, you could never go anywhere alone. Even to pee, the girls would not let you out of their sight. 

But, you got away with almost everything. The girls couldn’t stay mad at you for too long, not even Toni could stay mad at you. And she could literally stay mad at anyone until the day she died. 

“I’m taking you and her were close?” Agent Fader asks.

“Yeah, she was close to pretty much everyone. She’s like a little bean we all wanted to protect. You just wanted to squish her cheeks ever time you see her.” 

“Leah? What are you doing up here?” you ask her, plopping down onto the sand further away from everyone. 

She shakes her head staring out at the sun that was just beginning to set, “Just reading the notes he left me...again. I know I’m pathetic.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” you reply and she looks at you wide-eyed.

“You weren’t?” 

You shake your head, smiling at her a little bit, “You were in love. I’ve never been in love before, but when you’re in love you’re in love. And he dumped you which wasn’t cool. I don’t support your relationship with him, but it’s only natural to be heartbroken over it.” 

“You’re wise for your age.” she says, ruffling your hair.

“If I ever meet Jeffery, I’m gonna kick his ass.” you warn her, looking at her dead in the eye.

“You probably can, if I’m being honest.” Leah states and she lets out a small laugh. 

Yes, mission accomplished.

You nod with your fists up, pretending to block, “Hit him with that one, two, punch. Pow. Pow pow pow!” you mimic, punching the air in front of you.

Your fake fighting causes her to laugh a little louder and harder. So you decided to take it up a notch, get her distracted a little more.

You get up from where you were standing. And lift one leg up, like Daniel did in Karate Kid, “Finish him!” you yell, making your voice a little deeper. 

Kicking your feet up in the air, however you don’t stick the landing. You fall onto your back letting out a small groan and the sudden hit. Leah starts laughing uncontrollably, releasing a little snort.

That small snort causes you to start laughing along with her. Jeffery long forgotten. 

“We heard from Leah that Y/N was close with everyone. Is this true?” Fader asks. 

“Oh yeah 100%.” Rachel says with a nod, “It was like having yet another younger sister to take care of. Or well...them taking care of me.” 

“You think you can beat me in a swim race.” Rachel asks, staring at you like you’ve just grown two horns.

You hum in response, “Yep!” 

“Fine you’re on! From this point to those rocks.” she says, pointing at the rock figures in the middle of the ocean.

“Who you got?” Dot asks, Toni.

Toni looks at her with a small smirk on her face, “I’m gonna bet on the underdog this round. I got my Diet Coke on Squirt here!” Toni gestures to you, using your annoying nickname that the girls named you after. 

They gave you the nickname after the turtle from Finding Nemo. You pretended to hate it, but you secretly loved your embarrassing nickname.

“You’re on!” Dot says, shaking her hand.

“On your mark, get set...GO!” Martha yells sitting along next to Marcus.

The two of you take off swimming. You start off a little slow at first trying to maintain your energy, but Rachel was the opposite. She was using everything in her power to get their as fast as she could.

When she finally started slowing down, that’s when you pushed on the gas. Moving your arms and legs in a perfect motion. Slowly, but surely you started passing her just as you made it to the rocks.

“Hell yeah!” Toni yells.

Dot groans before throwing Toni a Diet Coke. 

“How the hell did you do that?” Rachel asks you, out of breath as the two of you sat on the rocks.

“Honestly, no idea.” you say with a laugh and she rolls her eyes.

“Race you back!” she yells, jumping into the ocean.

“Cheater!” you yell before diving in after her. 

Dot was slurping down her milkshake. While the two agents waited for her to stop drinking. 

“Can I have another one of these?” Dot asks and Fader nods with a laugh. 

“Who do you think you wanted to protect most on the island?” Young asks after Dot finishes her ten course meal.

“Y/N, hands down. I think that would be every girls answer.” Dot explains, plopping another fry into her mouth.

All of you girls were relaxing on the beach. After two days of scavenging the jungle for any sorts of food and firewood. This was the first day all of you could just relax.

“I just came up with the best idea!” you exclaim. 

It was just you and Dot. The rest of the girls were scattered all over the beach, doing their own thing.

“What is it?” she asks as your eyes had that mischievous glint to them, “Oh no. I know that look!” 

“We’re already stranded on a deserted island, what if we pretended we were on an episode of Naked and Afraid?!” you say, excitedly.

She releases on of her famous hearty laughs, “You want all of us to strip down naked? You really think the girls would be up for it?” 

You nod your head, multiple times, “I bet at least 6/9 of the girls here have at least imagined one of us naked.” 

Dot raises her eyebrows at you, “Are you one of those 6?” 

“No comment...” you state.

After much convincing, you got the girls to have a pretend episode of Naked and Afraid. Everyone was stripping down of their clothes, looking at each other, trying to stifle a laugh. 

The air was awkward, yet comfortable at the same time. The only awkward part was standing there unsure of what to do next. 

“Y/N, you have a cute butt!” Fatin exclaims, giving you a high five.

Toni sidles up next to her to get a look, “Awe it looks like a little peach.” 

You throw your face in your hands, shaking your head as a chorus full of aw’s fill the air. 

Toni sat there with her arms crossed over her chest, not wanting to talk about anything to these phonies. 

“So we’ve been asking the girls their opinions on everyone else, we’re gonna go one by one on the list and you’ll say one word to describe them.” Fader says and Toni just nods.

“Leah Rilke?” 

“Over-thinker.” Toni replies.

“Rachel Reid?” 

“Driven.” 

“Dot Campbell?” 

“Resourceful.” 

“Shelby Goodkind?” 

There was a moment of silence, trying to find the right words to say, “Complex.” 

“Martha Blackburn?” 

“Sister.” 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” 

Toni laughs to herself softly, “Squirt.” 

You and Toni were out in the shallow waters of the ocean. Dot sent you and Toni on an experiment to see if watch she saw on TV actually works. Where you stand out in the water and catch a fish with your bare hands.

The two of you didn’t quite know the logistics on how it works, but you volunteered anyway. You were standing out, not too far away from the shore just reaching down trying to grab a fish to eat.

Each time you tried you came out short, “You look like an idiot right now.” Toni says, laughing at you flailing your arms in and out of the water.

“Shut up!” you say, splashing her with water. 

“You guys aren’t doing it right?!” Nora yells from the shore, “You need to stay still and patient so the fish will come to you.” 

“We literally picked the worst people for this job.” Shelby says and you and Toni flip her off from where you were standing, “You guys literally can not stay still for the life of you. And don’t even get me started on patience.”

“That’s rude!” you yell at her, “God can hear you! You’re supposed to be nice!” 

“I’m also supposed to be honest!” Shelby shoot back and you mock her actions, before she gives you the bird herself.

“Hey that’s not allowed!” Toni yells at her girlfriend. 

You start laughing with Toni, pushing her slightly. She pushes you back playfully, before it turns in to a full on battle to see who can get the other to fall first. But Toni being Toni decided to just tackle you. 

“Ahhhhhh!” you say letting out a little screen, “Something’s touching me!” 

“Pick it up! It could be a fish!” Toni exclaims.

You pick up the creature and yell a little louder when it bites you, tossing it in the process, “It bit me!!” 

“Y/N, it’s a baby turtle!” Toni exclaims, “You were scared of a baby turtle!” 

“Shut the fuck up.” you joke with her, but give her a serious look. 

Toni picks up the turtle examining the cute little guy. She looks at the turtles face and then back at you doing a double take. 

“It kinda looks like you.” she says, before letting it go back into the ocean.

“Fuck you.” you tease, tackling back into the ocean.

“We really picked the worst people.” Shelby says to Nora.

Both of them shaking their heads in disappointment.

“Thoughts on Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Oh intern for being the baddest bitch out there.” Fatin says with a smile on her face.

“Intern for who?” Fader asks.

“Me of course.” 

Nora and Rachel were currently fighting to the death. Neither you, Leah, or Martha knew what to do.

“Y/N come over here!” Fatin says, gesturing for you to go where she was standing, “Take this bottle of lube!” 

You catch the bottle of the lube she tossed you. And you raised your eyebrow up at her. 

“Just follow my lead.” she brings her toothbrush up to her mouth, “Nora has Rachel pinned on the ground.” she mocks an announcer you would hear on ESPN.

“But Rachel is not giving up too easily folks!” you go along with your guys’ bit, “I don’t know about you Fatin, but I have never seen a girl fight this interesting in my life!” 

“Agreed, usually it’s just a bunch of-HOLY SHIT that was a knee to the tit ladies and gentlemen!” she yells out. 

“Is Rachel out for the count?!” you add on watching the fight unfold in front of you. 

It’s probably not the best time to make jokes, but you all need to let loose once in awhile.

“Wait...she’s getting up!” Fatin yells.

“Oh my gosh she’s not...OUCH! That was knee to the twat!” you yell wincing at the pain that was just brought upon Nora.

“Y/N, how do you feel about this fight?” Fatin asks.

You shake your head, “I don’t know you have two amazing fighters going head to head for the very first time. We have Rachel, olympic diver, very strong and very determined. But then we have the underdog of the hour Nora who is small and scrawny, but she’s packing quite a punch. It could be anyone’s game.” 

“You’re absolutely right Y/N! But Rachel now as Nora pinned to the ground and she can’t seem to get up! This fight might be over everyone!!” 

“Hey there.” Shelby says, sitting down at the metal table. 

“Hello Shelby, can we get you anything?” the two men ask and she just sit back in her seat, shaking her head.

Fader nods, “Well let’s get started, shall we?” 

The three of them have a long conversation before Shelby ultimately decides to stop the interview all together. 

“Wait just one question!” Fader exclaims as Shelby stands up, “How do you feel about Y/N?” 

At the sound of your name Shelby freezes in her spot, “My favorite person on the island.” fear and worry start to fill her body at why the sudden question about you, “Is she okay??” 

You were trekking in the jungle looking for some source of food. All of you ate all the food when the rescue plane was coming, but it’s not coming anytime soon so here you were.

Shelby, Toni, and Martha said they were gonna go out looking, but none of them were to be found. So you decided to go on a little expedition to find them. You heard rustling coming from the tree up ahead, so you decided to follow the noise.

Only to see Toni and Shelby basically naked under a lychee tree, “Oh my god!!!” you yell, covering your eyes with your hand.

“AHHH!” the two girls scream, but you couldn’t see what they were doing.

You turned around facing towards the direction you came from, “Sorry sorry. I was just looking for you guys and food. I uh I didn’t mean to.” you say, shaking your head.

“Jesus Y/N you scared us!” Shelby yells and you can hear rustling. 

Hopefully, they were putting their clothes back on. 

“Damn it I was getting laid!” Toni says jokingly and you could hear a smack hit her arm.

“Leave our daughter alone!” Shelby jokes and you laugh softly.

“Can I turn back around now?” you ask meekly.

“Yes.” the two girls say and you release a sigh and turn around to face the two girls.

You look at their flush faces, “You guys couldn’t have gone a little farther away?” you ask, “Thanks to you I’m more traumatized than I already was.” you joke. 

“Oh c’mon you know you liked it.” Toni nudges your shoulder as the two of you walk back to the camp.

Your face flushes as you put your head in your hands, “Stop corrupting her!” Shelby yells at her. 

“Let me see her!” Shelby yells at the two men.

“We can’t let you do that. You girls aren't allowed to see each other yet. Not for awhile.” Agent Young says.

“Can you at least tell me if she’s okay?” she asks, looking at the two men with her eyebrows raised.

“She’s fine.” 

That didn’t relieve the feeling in Shelby’s chest that something could possibly be wrong. But she couldn’t do anything, even if we tried.

The girls didn’t know how long they were quarantined. It felt like months and it probably was a couple months. They finally let all of the girls hang out together in the small courtyard.

All of them hugging one another, super glad to see each other. Knowing that everyone’s okay. Well...everyone who made it.

“Y/N? Where’s Y/N?” Leah asks, looking at all the other girls.

“She was okay when we left. She should be here.” Dot adds on. 

Shelby face was flushed with worry, “They wouldn’t let me see her when I asked about her. I asked if she was okay, but they said she was fine.” 

Fader was standing there with a guilty look on his face. Toni’s blood was boiling at the look on his face. She runs up to him, pushing him against the wall, holding onto him by the collar. 

“Where the fuck is she?!” she yells.

Which causes Agent Young to burst into the room, “What’s going on here?” 

“Where is Y/N?!” Toni yells again, but at the other man.

Agent Young locks eyes with Fade and he subtly nods, “She’s in the infirmary. Her heart was in bad condition, so she needed open heart surgery. The surgeons are working on her right now.” 

“You told me she was fine when I was being interrogated.” Shelby says in between gritted teeth, “Did you lie?” 

The two men don’t answer. They just stare anywhere, but at the other girls. The silence spoke louder than any words did. Fatin scoffs at the men’s actions.

“That’s why you wanted to know huh?” Leah asks, her imagination running wild, “You wanted to know about her because you were wondering if she was worth saving. Isn’t that right?” 

Neither of the men decided to speak again.

“Let us see her.” Rachel says, staring at them intensely.

“We can’t do that. She’s in surgery right now.” Young says.

Toni pushes Fader up against the wall yet again, “You’re gonna let us see her when she’s out. No excuses. No bullshit. You’re gonna let us see our friend.” Toni threatens.

The girls sat in the waiting room of the infirmary. Leah paced back and forth chewing on her fingernail. Toni was trying to console a worried Shelby. While Dot, Rachel, and Fatin sat in the seats waiting impatiently.

Agent Young filled the girls in on your condition. You had a heart disease before you came onto the island. And your parents gave you a little trip to help because of the depressive state you were in. Little did they know you would be trapped on an island with none of the medication that was needed to help you survive.

All of the rigorous activity brought your heart to a weaker state than ever before. When the girls got saved, you were already experiencing symptoms of heart failure. And you were put under immediate watch when you reached the facility. You were getting better, but then your heart gave out and you needed to get an artery reconstructed.

“We already lost too much.” Fatin whispers in the tense silence of the waiting room. 

“Nora, Martha...” Rachel draws out.

“We can’t lose Y/N.” Toni adds. 

“The girl who loved the most has a heart condition. How ironic is that?” Dot asks.

“I’m scared guys.” Leah whispers.

“She’s strong, she’ll pull through.” Shelby says, trying to boost their hope, but she’s losing faith herself.

After God knows how long the doctor finally came out. All of the girls looking up at her. Tears brimming all of their eyes, scared for the answer they were about to get.

“She’s okay. We managed to repair it without too much trouble. You guys can see her now.” the doctor says and everyone lets out this huge breath.

A smile breaks out on Fatin’s face as tears spill from her face. The six girls walk into your hospital room where you were laying peacefully. Your eyes somewhat open, you had a soft smile on your face as you stared at the girls.

“Hey guys!” you exclaim, as excited as you can.

Dot lets out a small sniffle, “You scared us, asshole!” 

“Why didn’t you tell us about your condition?” Fatin asks, tears still streaming down her face.

You shrug, “We already were going through too much. I didn’t want to worry everyone more or get treated any differently. Rachel, if I told you about my heart would you have raced me?” 

She shakes her head, “No.” 

“Exactly.” 

Rachel, Dot, and Fatin take a seat on the foot of the rock-hard hospital bed. You scooted over so Leah could cuddle in next to you. While Shelby and Toni pulled up a chair right by your side.

Leah rests her head on your shoulder, “We thought we were gonna lose you Squirt.” Toni says, ruffling your hair. 

Shelby was still crying, looking at you full of worry. You look at the blonde beauty who was now bald, but she still looked beautiful.

“Come here.” you whisper to her. You scoot over closer to her Leah, making room for her.

She sits next to you, crying into your chest, “Hey. I’m okay Shelby.” you look at all of the other girls who still had worry on their face, “I’m okay guys. We’re all okay.”

But the girls don’t look convinced.

“Listen to my heart Shelby, it’s still beating. Just focus on that okay?” you tell her and she nods. Even Leah could hear your heart beating from here. 

“You’re really okay?” Shelby asks and you nod.

“I’m okay. I promise.” you say, giving each of the girls a look, They all nod with small smiles, “Now how the hell do we get out of here?” you whisper.

And each of you give each other a small smirk, “Time for the Great Escape.” 

[theeslytherinslut]

12 Grimmauld Place (3/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Remus Lupin x readers brother 

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: angst, language

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

It was the only room you’d seen thus far that didn’t have peeling layers of dark-colored paints, ranging from deep emeralds to smoky greys and jet blacks. Instead, it was painted likely the lightest shade of grey Sirius could convince his mother to agree to, but looking around, that was probably the only thing she would’ve approved of in this room. 

Laughing to yourself quietly, you had a stark, strangely sad realization: this was still a teenager's room. Scantily clad Muggle women postered the walls draped across expensive-looking cars, Gryffindor apparel was strewn everywhere possible, what looked to be a Quidditch banner hung from the ceiling, and various Honeydukes wrappings littered the floor. A large, expensive, very elaborately made chair stood in the corner of the room, buried underneath layers of dark clothing. 

“Sorry, probably should’ve cleaned up...wasn’t exactly expecting company though, not that you’re a bother! Merlin, it’s lovely to have someone so love--so...it’s nice to have someone else here.” Sirius finished, as red as the scarlet robes hanging from his canopy bed as he stuttered his way through his explanation. 

“This is...this is incredible,” you said, moving through the room to find a picture of Sirius and James with their arms thrown across each other's shoulders, laughing jovially as Remus shook his finger at them in the distance. Chuckling to yourself, you continued to look at the handful of old pictures that littered his dresser. 

Another picture nearby showed Sirius sneaking up on James as he very clearly flirted with Lily, her face lighting up with laughter as James jumped up in fright. 

“He was always so easy when Lily was around...” Sirius trailed off, smiling sadly at the photos before you. Looking to the other corner of the mirror, you saw three more photos shoved into the cracks. 

The first was a picture of the group of them lounged around the Great Lake; you’d guessed Peter was behind the camera because only the four of them smiled up at you. James’ head lay in Lily’s lap, hers rested on Sirius’ shoulder, who waved up cheerily at you. As Lily sat up to meet James halfway for a quick kiss, Sirius stretched out his arm and pulled in a sheepish looking Remus, ruffling the top of his head affectionately. You smiled at the sight of your brother with his friends. The happiness that radiated from this picture was intoxicating, you never wanted to look away. 

The next was of them in what must’ve been the Gryffindor common room. Being a Slytherin, you’d never seen the inside of anyone else’s common rooms. Large, comfy furniture was placed strategically around the room, drapings of what you’d assumed to be scarlet and gold draped the walls, an inviting fire dominated the center of the room. 

This picture was another of the group of them, but this time a frightened-looking James and a smirking Sirius were evidently getting scolded fiercely by Lily. You laughed upon seeing Remus standing behind Lily in a sort of gesture of good faith but seemingly offered no words to his insolent friends. 

“Hexed a fourth year Slytherin,” he explained, you turned to glare playfully at him, and he smiled, “The git tried to stick gum in my hair! I think there might’ve been an incident with myself and a girlfriend of his, though...Anyway, James caught him just before and...well, he was with Madam Pomfrey for a few days, I think. Lily gave us a right good telling off for that one, came close to Minnie’s scoldings,” Sirius sighed wistfully, likely reliving the day in his head.  

“Wait...” you trailed off upon seeing the last. 

The third picture was in the Great Hall; though many people were in the picture, the center focus seemed to be a group of Slytherin girls standing in the entryway. There, in the center of the photograph, laughing heartily, was you. Your Y/H/C hair was seemingly shining underneath what was likely a very sunny day, your teeth gleaming as you laughed at something someone had said. 

“Is that..?” you turned around, looking to find him sheepishly smirking at his feet. 

“Yes, I believe it is,” he said. A smile was on his face, but he was scrutinizing yours. “I think I nicked it off Remus at some point.”  

“Why?” you shook your head. Surely Sirius Black hadn’t been fawning over you as well? Surely you hadn’t wasted all these years apart because neither one of you had the bollocks. “You could’ve had anybody...” 

“Well, I could--and did,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not proud of my whorish boyhood--though it only seems fair having given my recent dating history, funnily enough, a dementor's kiss is not a hot thing.” he broke off when you let out a rip of laughter. “But all that is behind me. I can still hear James suggesting I settle down with a nice girl instead of working my way through the female half of our year. Remus gave up on that idea long ago, I think.”

His smile turned sad at the mention of his friend, and your eyes fell back to the picture of the two of them being scolded by Lily. 

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” you said honestly. “The last half of your life...it must’ve been awful. Losing your best mate, your brother essentially, and then being blamed and imprisoned in fucking Azkaban for a decade for it.” 

Sirius didn’t answer, merely looked darkly at the floor. You took your cue to steer the conversation in another direction. Tightening your towel around you, you cleared your throat. 

“So, this nice girl James wanted you to find, any luck thus far? Do I know her?” you asked, lightening the mood. 

“What do you think? This decrepit house isn’t exactly overflowing with options. Unless you count portraits of past, insane, family members, then I’m swimming!” he laughed, skirting around an answer.

“Nothing like a little pureblood incest,” you laughed in return. A draft of cold air blanketed the room, and you shivered. “So, er, I didn’t exactly have time to pack a bag on my way out; you don’t by chance have any clothes you wouldn’t mind me using, do you?” 

“Oh, right! Sorry, it’s absolutely freezing in this drafty old house.” Sirius commented, gesturing to your goosebump covered arms. He turned and clapped his hands, flying to his closet. 

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of my old school clothes in here...Seems dear old Mum had at least half a heart. This stuff might fit you a tad better,” he murmured, running his hands along the swinging clothes in his old closet. After a moment, he let out a barking laugh. “Here!” 

He threw you a maroon hoodie, and you gave him a look, knowing he was teasing you about the housing. Opening the balled up fabric, you smiled despite yourself seeing the front. It was a Gryffindor Quidditch sweatshirt. You grinned giddily as you turned it around and saw Sirius’ last name splayed across the back, complete with his number. What you wouldn’t have given to wear this years ago...

“Did you need pants, too?” Sirius asked, an odd look on his face as you smiled down at his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, no. That’s okay. This looks like it should cover everything--I’m a hot sleeper.” you explained sheepishly.

Turning, you padded softly over to the adjoining bathroom and clicked the door shut. 

What a turn of events. Standing in Sirius Black’s bathroom, you took stock of the night. 

You’d been attacked and almost killed by Fenrir Greyback, only just managing to escape what would have been a horrid death--or worse. After being mended by Madam Pomfrey, Sirius Black was to continue nursing you back to health. Sirius Black, your greatest childhood crush, and the way your heart hammered in your chest even now told you it might not be all the way extinguished. Never once did you think you’d see where he lived, let alone be undressing in his bedroom. 

And his bedroom...what a time capsule it was. It made you feel like you were in school again, hoping to catch him in the hallways between classes, always peering through the stacks of books as he and James teased Remus during his studies. And further, it seemed all that time you hadn’t been the only one watching. Sirius Black had been watching you almost as much as you had him in your school years. Evident in that hidden in his bedroom was a photo of you, a photo you didn’t know he snuck. A photo surrounded by the greatest hits of his school years, surrounded by those he considered family. 

Trying not to let it all go to your head, you groaned when you slipped the sweatshirt over your head. Though the pain in your body wanted to bring you back to reality, the full, uninhibited scent of Sirius sent you reeling once more. A sickly sweet, smoky scent was the most noticeable. Tobacco, maybe? Suddenly, the image of a young Sirius lounged beneath a tree on the skirts of the Great Lake was brought to mind, smoke rolling from his mouth as he brought his hand down from his lips. Of course, another inherently muggle form of rebellion, a double whammy to his family. 

Something woodsy lingered underneath, as if the hoodie had been swaying in the breeze of some forgotten forest for the last twelve years instead of shut up in this abandoned house. Head swimming, you gingerly stepped out into the bedroom before you got lost in your thoughts. 

“So, er, about the bed situa...” Sirius said, trailing off as he turned around to see you leaning against his doorway, sweatshirt draped to the tops of your thighs.

“Sorry, shit, I can put something else on if you want...don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. I mean, we’ve known each other all this time--sort of, anyway. I must be like a sister to you...this is probably super weird. I’ll just fetch a pair of pants,” you nervously rambled. Sirius’ face had not changed since he saw you, and you were beginning to feel incredibly anxious about it all. 

“No, no. Seriously, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sirius said, his old playful smile playing on his lips. Rolling your eyes, you damned the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“Here, I found you these," Sirius said, tossing you a pair of thick brown socks.  "I remember hearing you whine about your hands being cold all the time, figured the same might apply to your toes in an old drafty house like this.” 

“You remember?” you asked him. 

“Yes, well, I overheard you whining about it a time or two, and Remus was always mentioning you whining about being cold...I just remembered, that’s all.” Sirius said, his tone becoming oddly choppy. 

“Well, you’re right. My toes were positively popsicles, but I didn’t want to be a complainer or anything, though...” you trailed off, pulling the thick socks onto your ice-cold feet. 

“Ah yes, get attacked by a murderous werewolf, blast yourself into a wall, shatter a few bones, but lest you complain!” Sirius teased you, smiling once more. 

In the next second of silence that occurred, your stomach rumbled loudly, and you smiled sheepishly. 

“Bastard got me right in the middle of making dinner,” you explained. 

“Well, come on then. I’ll have Kreacher fix us something; what would you like?” Sirius asked, seemingly happy that he could help. 

“What’s he good at?” you shrugged, hungry for anything. Winking at you, Sirius barked for Kreacher as he led you down into the kitchen. 

“Yes, Master?” Kreacher croaked, bowing so lowly his nose brushed against the dusty floor. 

“Fix us some herb dumpling stew, won’t you? And some of those delicious little mince pies you make.” Sirius said, and at once, the elf nodded and stepped over to the stove. 

“And some apple pie?” you asked hopefully as you sank into the seat across from Sirius at the long kitchen table. 

“Whatever she asks, Kreacher,” Sirius commanded, smiling fondly at your excited state. 

“Of course, Master...Kreacher gladly serves those pure of blood...gladly...whatever she asks..” he agreed in his funny speech patterns. 

While Kreacher was cooking, Sirius reckoned it was time to alert Remus and the rest of the Order, and you couldn’t find a reason to disagree.Sighing, you watched him disappear to retrieve Remus.