#and they just snuck that little announcement in there before the absolute madness of OH YEAH AND NON-NRC GUYS CAN HAVE CARDS TOO NOW

[egophiliac]

lostinthebookwithstitch.jpg

this is all I can muster right now, too busy having my brain absolutely melted by the September schedule, what is happening

[muchadowriting]

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus: JLT Prompt

Tom Hiddleston x teacher!reader

Masterlist Words: 1.7K

Prompt:    My fav Christmas prompts were number 5,12 and 17. If you feel like it I'd love to see one of those (or all of them lol, you just do your thing and bless us with your writing)Thank you and have a great day/evening 😄❤️

Thank you @mm2305! I loved knocking out #5!

*One shots, dialogues, and prompt responses are not in chronological order and are not necessarily part of the “Just Like That” canon.

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“Daddy!” came the whispered exclamation of a little girl, sneaking into her father’s study. 

Study was a grand term for the only room in the Hiddleston’s household that hadn’t completely been taken over with toys or the incessant sound of Bluey, which at certain times seemed to haunt Tom’s dreams. It was a shared office of sorts for both you and Tom. Every other room was fair game when it came to your six year old twins. Typically they knew to knock, but it seemed there was an urgent matter to discuss.

“Bea!” Tom whispered, matching the enthusiastic whisper of the brown haired child. Bea, short for Beatrice, was technically the oldest of the twins by a whopping minute and twenty seconds. And, boy—did she play up the eldest child bit as much as she could. Six years old and already telling everyone what to do. Much like another lady in the house…

“Daddy,” she began again, brows knitting tightly together as she closed the door behind her, checking to make sure no one was going to follow her in. “This is serious business.” Already chiding him, ah yes—this child certainly did have your genes.

“Oh. Quite right then. I’ll behave,” standing up a bit straighter from his seat, moving around the desk to kneel before his little girl. “If this is about your presents, your mum and I won’t tell you where they are hidden.” It had been a constant interrogation by the children since the first Amazon box was delivered right before Thanksgiving. It got to the point that Tom would have them delivered to the studio and he’d sneak them into the house once the children were fast asleep.

Bea didn’t seem to care about Tom’s comment, shaking her head comically fast. “Me and Will found them a while ago, Daddy.”

He opened his mouth to say something–questioning how in the world those two rascals found them when even he didn’t know where you had stuck them. It was established that once the kids could talk and ask to see the presents, Tom was not allowed to know the location. Will had been allowed a sneak peek and threw a tantrum for a solid 24 hours until he could open them. Only stopping to sleep, even then he sniffled in his dreams. Nope. Tom was not allowed to know the location.

“You know when Santa came?” she asked, placing her little hands on her hips, a stance he had seen more than once over the years. And yes, he recalled what she was referring to. Every year, Benedict would dress-up as Santa for the Hiddleston children and listen to their Christmas lists and read them a story. It started off as a bet lost, but now had turned into a holiday tradition. Tom’ heart ached at the prospect that his baby was coming to him to let him know she was in on the secret. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that just yet.

Bea took a large breath, her whole body lifting with the motion as Tom knew was a sign he was about to get the child’s version of a soliloquy. “You know when you tucked us in last night and I said I had to pee and you said to go so I didn’t have a accident and I went?” Granted, not one of her longest stints, but she was just warming up with only time for Tom to give a nod. “I didn’t go pee and I snucked downstairs to see Santa again…”

“Beatrice Marie Hiddleston…,” he scolded, but couldn’t hold the tone for longer than her name. He had resigned to his fate of being an absolute pushover for the rest of his years. 

“No! No! Don’t get mad at me. Get mad at Mommy!” she announced, giving a little jump at the end making her green Loki shirt ride up just slightly. It seemed these two were always growing out of clothes.

Reaching over to gently tug down his daughter’s shirt and give her tummy a tickle in the process (which Bea was outraged that he would do such a thing when she had important business to discuss with him)--- “What did Mommy do this time?”

One little finger crooked, motioning for Tom to scoot in closer—his heart melting at such a request. Whatever she wanted, he’d give it willingly. He never felt like loving you was a choice, it happened so easily. It wasn’t until he became a father did he truly realize what unconditional meant. 

“I saw Mommy kissi-ing Santa,” in the most dramatic of whispers.

Now, his first response was to give a hearty laugh, but one look at the little girl’s face would make anyone fearful for their life. This indeed was serious business. “Oh. Dear. That is a problem.”

“Mhm. He kissied her too!” Her blue eyes widening as she clutched onto Tom’s cheeks with both little hands, her own version of the word kiss that you and Tom had encouraged since she could talk.

That did get Tom’s attention. “Santa kissied Mommy too?”

“Uh huh! Not like she kissies you, Daddy.” There was some logical explanation, he knew this to be true. Yet, here he was, sitting down on the floor to get intel from a six year old.

“What do you mean? I kissie Mommy all the time,” which earned a crinkle of a small nose. His informant was going to have to toughen up.

“This was a special kissie.”

Taking hold of the tiny hands, he brought them down to rest in his large palms. If he spent too much time contemplating the size difference between his hands and Bea’s he’d be asking you for another baby despite your apparent adulterous behaviors with old St. Nick.

“What made it special, baby?”

Another dramatic learning in, checking to see if her mother was going to walk in at any moment. “She kissie him on the cheek. He kissie her on her cheeks too.”

Brows knitting together tightly, he needed more information about why this made the kiss special. Obviously Bea could read her father’s expression.

“That’s where you give me kissies,” pointing to her own chubby cheeks. “You always say they are the best kissies ever!”

Tom’s frame began to relax and he was beginning to understand the confusion here. He didn’t realize that Bea equated cheek kisses with something special. So now he had essentially made her think that anytime you kissed someone’s cheek in greeting or thanks, including his best friend, you loved them. Perfect. Only took him six years to mess-up his kid.

“They are the best kissies ever,” he finally agreed, planting a firm kiss on her cheek, her squeals of delight filling the room. “Let’s go find Mommy and your brother. I’ll have a chat with her.”

“Are you going to put her in time out?” she asked, as the two of you left the study. The thought alone made Tom groan. The mere suggestion of putting you in time out would either be a complete turn on or grant him the ability to spend the next few nights on the sofa. The question was left unanswered as the two went in search of the other half of the family. 

Immediately, Tom’s senses were hit with the familiar smell of popcorn rounding the corner to the living room. Will came bounding out of the kitchen with a bowl as big as he was, it seemed, filled to the brim with popcorn. 

“Bea! We’re gonna watch Kermit Scrooge!” This was unspoken code for A Muppet Christmas Carol—a favorite that had been passed down since you were a child. “Mom’s making cookies too,” already making that adjustment away from the term ‘Mommy’, which actively broke your heart each time your baby boy said it. 

Brother and sister plopped onto the oversized couch that replaced Tom’s cool leather love seat ages ago. You both wanted a place where you could do exactly this—pile together and watch a movie together. Beatrice seemed preoccupied with the popcorn to carry through the interrogation with her father, so he was left to confront you in the kitchen.

Christmas music was playing in the background as you bounced around the kitchen, covered in flour—your natural state whenever you were in the kitchen. However, it had been ages since you actually made cookies. For a fleeting moment, Tom hoped these weren’t guilt cookies…

“Our daughter claims you’ve been kissing other bearded gentlemen,” he stated cooly, slinking up behind you.

Turning around, spoonful of cookie dough in your mouth, your expression was one of confusion, having no idea what he was referring to. 

“She alleges she saw Mommy kissing Santa,” sliding an arm around your waist, assessing how much cookie dough was up for the taking.

When you understood what Bea had seen, you began to shake your head, dipping your finger into the cookie dough and bringing it to your husband’s lips. “She threw me right under that bus, didn’t she?”

“And backed it up for good measure,” he added, taking the dough willingly with his lips. 

“Luckily we don’t keep secrets in this house for very long,” and there was something a little off about your tone with that statement, as if you knew more than you were letting on.

“Damn, I can’t remember the last time you actually made cookies. Years, right?” taking the spoon you had used previously to dip out another dollop for himself. “There was that one Christmas when we stayed cooped up in the house, baking every cookie known to man,” he recalled as you stayed relatively silent with nothing but a nod.

“It’s not like you and Ben to do the polite cheek kisses. You’ve always given me grief over them. Making fun of the British. Were you simply thanking him?” Tom inquired half distracted by the dough and rubbing circles on the small of your back.

“Oh, you know—he was just congratulating us.”

Finishing off another bite, Tom questioned, “For what exactly?” He was met with no answer, until he looked over at you. Still, you were quiet, gesturing towards the different types of cookies throughout the kitchen. That’s when he realized the last time you had made homemade cookies—you were pregnant with the twins.

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Tag List: @help-i-need-a-social-life @sleutherclaw @lharrietg @clavorhavor @weallhaveadestiny @sunshineintherainstorm @maluisamarvelfan123 @austynparksandpizza​ @mm2305 @simply-a-butterfly @overitall2018 @lunatic-luna @allexiiisss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @handwithquill @lilywrose @twisted-monster @ilovetardis @immersed-in-mischief​ @sammy-13

[pinktintedmonocle]

I posted 532 times in 2022

That's 63 more posts than 2021!

92 posts created (17%)

440 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@allvalley100

@lulamadison

@pinktintedmonocle

@pohjanneito

I tagged 502 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#cobra kai - 107 posts

#daniel larusso - 88 posts

#johnny lawrence - 80 posts

#lawrusso - 80 posts

#terry silver - 68 posts

#cobra kai fanfiction - 52 posts

#allvalley100 - 50 posts

#the karate kid - 50 posts

#cobrakaifanfic - 46 posts

#cobrakaifanfiction - 46 posts

Longest Tag: 112 characters

#and that bobby looks like he's being supportive of dutch while tommy just drips melted popsicle into his hair 😆

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A second one for the prompt ‘Foolproof’ - @allvalley100

Johnny’s plan was foolproof. Granted, said plan had been devised at 3am after seven bottles of Banquet, but it was still definitely a good one.  So he snuck into Miyagi-Do before the sun had risen and promptly walked into the rock.

Daniel raced outside. “What’re you doing?”

Johnny staggered sideways. “I’ve come to pick up my stuff.”

“You didn’t leave anything here!”

“I did.”

Daniel folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.  “Oh yeah? What?”

Johnny strode forward, grabbed a startled Daniel by his hips, and lifted him up.  

“You, twerp”, said Johnny, before leaning in for a passionate kiss.

61 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#4

For the prompt 'Cute as a Button' - @allvalley100

“Holy shit, you’re so hot”, Johnny murmured as Daniel crawled into his lap.  He cupped the side of Daniel’s face with one hand, thumb caressing his cheek.  “Hot and cute.  Cute as a baton.”

Daniel blinked, lust glazed eyes regaining focus.  “Cute as a what?”

“A baton.  You know, like that nerd in marching band has.”

Daniel laughed.  “It’s cute as a button, man!”

“What is?”

“The expression!”

Johnny frowned.  “What’s cute about a little round metal thing?”

“What’s cute about a long thin metal thing?”, countered Daniel.

“Just shut up and kiss me, LaRusso”, Johnny growled.

Daniel happily obliged.

85 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#3

For the prompt 'Ghosts' - @allvalley100

“He’s definitely watching me”, Johnny claims, frowning at the portrait of Miyagi’s ancestor.  “I can feel his eyes following me around the room.”

“Probably still mad that you called him Shrimpo”, Daniel replies, grinning.

One night, when he’s the last person left in the dojo, Johnny leaves a bottle of Coors Banquet beneath the picture as a peace offering.  Returning the next morning, he finds the bottle gone, replaced with a note written in Japanese.

He gets Robby to run it through a translation app on his phone.  The note reads:

You are forgiven, Johnny-san.  But next time, bring sake.

88 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#2

For the prompt 'Handle With Care' - @allvalley100

The first time he and Daniel spend the night together Johnny doesn’t know where to put his hands.

He knows where he wants to put them; he wants to dig his fingers into Daniel’s hips hard enough to bruise, wants to manhandle his perky little tits.  But spread out beneath him, Daniel looks so petite, so delicate, so perfectly formed, that Johnny is overcome by the need to handle him with care.

Then Daniel wraps his legs around Johnny’s back and flips him over with surprising ease, and Johnny remembers that, despite appearances, there’s nothing delicate about Daniel at all.

100 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

For the prompt ‘Lost and Found’ - @allvalley100

Johnny’s junior prom may have been an absolute shitshow, but his senior prom was a significant improvement.

“LaRusso and Ali just broke up!”, Tommy announced breathlessly.  “I saw it all go down in the parking lot-”

Johnny rushed outside to find Daniel scowling at a smoking yellow car.

“Come to gloat, huh?”, Daniel asked him.

Johnny stared at his flushed face and full lips, and, at last, something clicked into place.  He grabbed Daniel by the lapels and crushed their mouths together, and Daniel melted into his embrace.

After a year of losing, it felt good to finally find something.

107 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[constantlyunlightening]

Peeping

Kinktober Day 3: Voyeurism w/ Kirishima

Other kinks/Trigger warnings: masturbation/mutual masturbation 

Third day strong! (Still loads more to go but writing is hard, ya’ll). Also, if you happen to have suggestions/prompts for fluffier stuff, lemme know. I’m probably going to do Chisaki for tomorrow and if that’s what happens, we’ll need some sweeter stuff to wash it down with afterwords :) This one is pretty sweet compared to my other 2 so far though!

Disclaimers: Read/interact only if you’re 18+. Characters are all 20+ 

Kirishima was home! A buzz of excitement jolted through you as you had to stop yourself from squealing as you saw his boots in the doorway. 

His hero work always kept him so busy, especially either the last week or two. You've hardly even seen him. He hasn't been getting home until well after it was time for you to sleep, but today, he was home before you? 

He had messaged during a break earlier in the week that he was going to be getting some time to rest soon but you hadn't realized he meant today! A smile was gracing your features before you could stop it and you were quick to rush through the house to find him. It was with reluctance that you went through the hallways quietly in case he had taken to having a nap - you could only imagine he was exhausted. You didn't want to be the reason he woke up, but you were positively buzzing.

After taking a peek into the living room and the kitchen, just to be sure he wasn't lounging around somewhere, you made your way up towards the bedroom and that's when you heard a feral little grunting sound that stopped you in your tracks. 

It was soft, but you didn't have to sit here and analyze to know what sort of noise it was. You had heard it so many times; right up against the shell of your ear. You've heard the low rumble fanning over your skin before as his face tucked away against your body. You're baby Eijiro was in there and he was working on getting off. Was he….

The bedroom door was cracked open just enough to have temptation grab you and suck you in. You tiptoed your way to the door and, against your better morals, peered inside to have your breath taken away with the scene before you. It had been much too long since you last touched your boyfriend, because seeming him lounged on the bed with his cock out and in his hand instantly got you needy.

You must have been dating an actual Greek God - he sure was built like one in any case. He hadn't bothered to take off his hero uniform with the exception of his belt - you assumed he had tossed it off to the floor somewhere but you were a bit too transfixed to make that confirmation yourself. His hero uniform put all those toned muscles in his arm and chest on display and, while they were incredibly fun to ogle on television, it was much more fun to see in person. Especially now with the way his body had a thin sheen of sweat clinging to him. 

His legs were hung off the edge of the bed, spread wide and putting the shaft in his hand on open display. You always noticed how big Kirishima hands were but his dick was even bigger. Even as he clenched and stroked his hand over himself, you could make out the color and thickness of it, you could spot glimpses of that dark vein running along the underside. You busied yourself with taking in every inch of his form, taking pause at the tensing of the arm he used to prop himself back and up on the bed, the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he worked himself up, the clench in his jaw and the baring of fangs as a stroke his particularly well. 

Your hero had you in a spell. The mere sight of him not only made your thighs clench and squirm, but it also took away the logical part of your thoughts that would have told you that maybe you shouldn't be secretly watching him - no matter how good the clench of his strong hand looked around his cock. Maybe he would get angry with you, but it wasn't like you hadn't seen all of these parts of him before. Besides he's had you touch yourself in front of him a couple time before, so maybe it was his turn to show himself off. Although maybe you should announce yourself and then watch. Or maybe you should waltz over and ride on him for your own relief as well as his. You were starting to drip. 

Another growl of pleasure from your red head had you legs anchored into place. You would be on that dick some point tonight if you had your way but for now, you wanted to watch. Kirshima always declared it was some form of manliness by focusing on your pleasure over his - he always made you cum first and he loved making you cum a lot. But this time, you were getting to watch him enjoy himself, touch himself for his own sake. You were getting to see him get off on his own terms. May as well let your hero focus on himself for round one, right? 

You weren't above touching yourself in the meantime though.

Your own hand had snuck down past your waist band and into the fabric of your panties, letting your fingers trace along the slit of your folds as quietly as you could manage. You hadn't wanted to get caught anyway, but even less so with your hands down your pants like this. You just had to be quiet. You could do that, right? Besides, it'd be easy enough to match your motions with his, hide your ragged pants under the guise of his own grunts and smacking skin.

You fanned over your sweet spot a couple times, but quickly decided to switch lower. Your body was clenching around air - may as well give it something to attend to. As you noticed Kirishima switch to a slower stroke, you timed your motion with his own, slipping two fingers into your waiting sex as his hand rode down the length of his.

Biting on the inside of your cheek was the only way to stop your sound. Gotta keep quiet. But even the thought of his hard cock riding into you was enough to send a wave of pleasure straight through your core. His quirk was hardening, but he didn't need it to get himself up and leave a dent. You practically felt like you had imprints left inside you with the way he would drive into your body - he shaped you out perfectly for himself… You missed that feeling. You missed having him written into your body, missed having the marks of sharp bites hidden on your skin, missed being enveloped in his smell and in his arms. He didn't indicate any signs of spotting you, but as if he could read your mind, he was suddenly picking up the pace and you moved in tandem. Each pump of your own fingers, you pretended it was him inside you instead and your back arched with the fantasy. 

Pleasure wrapped your vision and you had to force your legs to keep from shaking as you picked up with each increase in tempo Kirishima gave. Your biting into your cheek got a bit tougher to. He was getting close and you could tell from the way he was straining to keep his voice down. He had a habit of suppressing his own groans and grunts when he was close to orgasm. When you had pouted after a session and asked him why, he claimed it was because he didn't want anything to muffle the sound of your orgasm. He wanted to hear every single sound from the loudest, neediest scream, to the softest, blissful sigh. It wouldn't be very manly of him to steal the spotlight from star of his show, right? And apparently, that habit carried over to his solo sessions, because now as his hips rocked up into his hand - muscles tensing- his voice was strained, jaw clenched as he tried to suppress his sounds. You weren't used to withholding your own noises, but you were trying real hard now as you worked yourself up, wanting to cum with him. For an added little boost, your free hand snaked up your shirt and found its way to your chest, tugging at the closest peek it could as your sight lost focus of anything else other than the motion over his cock. So fucking close.

You were so ready to see stars, so transfixed in your own bliss. Then you heard Eijiro's voice speak up again and it almost made you wanna cum on the spot - he said your name. It wasn't exactly surprising, you were his girlfriend after all. But something about him still touching himself to thoughts of you even when he was alone? The fact that it was your name on his lips when he was at the cusp of orgasm? Damn.

You were ready for that last push- that last shove to push you over your peak. 

But then his hand stopped.

His hand stopped and you wanted to cry. Was he edging himself? Or what was he…

Suddenly you heard you name again - strained from a stolen orgasm but this didn't sound like it was said from the sheer ecstasy, this sounded like it was being directed. Directed at you.

With the hand at his cock at a full freeze and your heart leaping into your chest, your eyes nervously darted upwards and you were met with two crimson eyes staring directly at you from the bed. A shark tooth grin aimed your way.

"Pretty shady of you to be a peeping tom like that, babe," his voice came out playful but the edge in it from his little edging stunt had your body absolutely jolting. You came to attention in your shock, but you didn't miss the way his eyes seemed to follow your hand as you pulled it out of your pants - now deliciously wet. "But it'd be even worse of me to keep the best part to myself when I know you're over there waiting for me - c'mere."

Definitely not mad. Oh, no. He sounded eager in fact, and despite the heat flooding to your face at being caught, his call had you beckoned to him like a moth to a flame. How were you to resist?

The next moment, your bodily shakily carried you to stand between his legs and he wasted no time dragging you in by the swell of your hips. "Besides, I've been holding myself back this whole time until I could get to you again. I got a lot of love to give. Come get your fill."

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

omg fred requests are open🥰🥰 can you do a fred request where he meets the reader at the world cup and they bond, but during the whole voldemort thingy they get separated n stuff so hes sad, and then maybe she's a transfer student from illvermorny going to hogwarts now so he sees her the first day of school? im ravenclaw but it can be any house. tysm I hope u have a good day :)

This is such a good idea thoooo

You were watching the game with your parents. You recently moved from Massachusetts to wherever the fuck you were now. You grumbled in your seat. "Y/n at least try to enjoy yourself, maybe meet some people-- why don't you go get us some snacks or something!" Your dad suggested. "Fine." You muttered before getting up and walking to the concession stand. You paid for food and a boy walked over to you. "Uhm... Can I help you?" You asked. "... You're not british?" He asked. "Really? What was the give away? My accent or my lack of sarcasm? Because I've got one of those." You said sarcastically. The boy chuckled. "You're standing in front of the straws Love." He said. You moved and he noticed you looking at the arena with a spiteful glare. "What's with you?" He asked. "What?" You asked. "You seem mad." He said, poking the straw into his cup. "Just moved here. Didn't want to come here because it's not really my scene." You muttered. "Ah." He nodded. "Why do you care?" You asked. "Mm. Probably because it's more interesting than hearing my little brother drool over Viktor Krum." He replied.

You smiled and Fred did too. "Pretty smile you've got there." He said. You chuckled and shook your head. "Got a name Princess?" He asked. "Hmm. I think I like that name better." You joked making him smile. "What about you lover boy?" You asked. "Lover boy hm? Interesting guess but my name is Fred." He said. "Is there any particular reason why there's another you walking over?" You asked noticing an identical boy walking over. "Oh this is George." Fred introduced

"Who's this?" George asked. "A mystery apparently." You said. George noticed that smile on his brother's face and smirked. "Fred loves mysteries." George said. "George what are you--" "Shhh the adults are talking." George hushed Fred. "I'm older than you by five minutes you asshole." Fred said earning a laugh from you. "Had enough of Ron's blabbering on about Krum?" Fred asked George. "Absolutely. And we saw Malfoy." George nodded making Fred roll his eyes. "Who's Malfoy?" You asked. "Pompous rich kid." Fred replied. "Mm. We have a funny little saying in America for people like that." You replied sipping on your soda. "And that is?" George asked. "Eat the rich." You replied making George's eyes light up. "Oh that's good." He said. You chuckled and Fred looked at you. "Wanna prank this guy?" He asked. "You barely know me-- you don't even know my name!" You said. "And? I can see the mischief in your eyes. You know you wannaaa" Fred teased making you smile. "....Alright fine." You said. "That's the spirit Princess!" Fred said with a smile, taking your hand as you, Fred and George ran.

You snuck under the stands, sneaking something into a drink this blonde boy had. You snuck back out and you were laughing the whole time walking back. "God, you two are fun." You said. "Mm. Game just ended." George said leaning back so he could see what was going on. "I should find my Dad." You said. "Wait, my family has a tent, you should hang out!" George said making Fred look at him. "I don't want to intrude--" "Trust me you aren't." Fred assured.

You and your dad did meet his family, sitting around in the tent. "So how do you know my daughter?" Your mother asked. "Met her at the concession stand." Fred said. "Any clue what her name is?" George asked. "She made us promise not to say it, sorry." Your Dad said. "Wha- why!? Is it a terrible name?" Fred asked. "Nope. Just testing fate." You said with a smirk. "She does this all the time." Your mother said. "she gives them a fake name, she has this weird idea that if you're meant to know her name, you'll find out sooner or later without help." Your dad said. "Weird. But I tend to like weird so you're lucky." Fred said making you smile.

"So what brought you here?" Harry asked. "Mm. Dad works for the ministry." You said. "Yep." He nodded. "Mom's an archeologist." You added. "A arche what now?" George asked. "They dig up old artifacts to study history." You explained. "Ohhh." "So... Grave robbing?" Fred asked. "Aha... No?" Your mother said before mouthing. "What the fuck?"

You looked at Fred and he smiled at you as the group talked. "Like something you see princess?" He flirted making you chuckle. "Maybe I do." You said. "Do you have any water?" Your mother asked. "Fred, Y/n why don't you get something to drink!?" George said.

"You're pairing us up on purpose aren't you?" You asked as he shoved both of you off. Fred rolled his eyes and you chuckled. "Your brother is something else." You said. "Good wing man though." Fred said. You smiled and shook your head. "So you are something with me." You chuckled. "Actually I find you to be very beautiful and I was hoping for a date." He said. You opened your mouth but halted when you heard screaming. You stood up and Fred rose a brow.

Fred's father, Arthur walked out before coming back in. "Death eaters!" He gasped. You frowned. "We need to get out of here." Your father said. You nodded and your mother sighed. "Nice meeting you, try to stay safe." She said before you all ran out.

Fred assumed that would be the last time he saw you... Until today

He sat in the great hall and tapped his fingers on the table absentmindedly. "Don't tell me you're thinking of this girl AGAIN." George noticed. "I swear to God I thought I saw her this morning." Fred said. "You've finally lost your mind." Ron huffed. "what about this girl made you so attracted to her?" Ginny asked. "Besides her beauty? She was witty as hell, she seemed smart-- She was a total package and I blew it!" Fred grumbled.

"If I could have your attention." Dumbledore announced.

"I just wish I could see her again." Fred muttered.

"I'd like to introduce a new student"

"What would you even do if you saw the girl again?" Ginny asked, unaware that you were about to emerge

"I don't know, I just want to see her!" Fred said.

"Y/n L/n." Dumbledore said before George's eyes went wide.

"What's with you?" Fred asked as George pointed. Fred looked and gaped. "Y/N!?" Fred gasped. You looked over and smiled, giving him a small wave. When he noticed you were in Gryffindor. "OH MY GOD." Ron gaped. "So he's not completely off his rocker." Ginny said as you walked over and Fred swallowed looking at you.

"Looks like fate didn't want us to part just yet." You said with a laugh. Fred noticed a new scar on your cheek. "What happened there?" Fred asked. "Little altercation from a death eater. You should see the other guy." You said making him smile. Fred hugged you and you smiled against him. "Still want that date Fred?" You asked. He pulled away looking at your face with a wide smile. "Absolutely."

[celestialholz]

... I know, right? ‘Where the hell have you been, woman?’ I hear you all shouting from the rafters, and to that I say: the world has fucked me, and not in a good way. I don’t have a job any longer, I probably won’t have an apartment shortly, but what I do have is the ability to write good and ridiculous Qcard again thanks to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest and I’ll be damned if I squander it! For the uninitiated, the contest aims to find ‘the worst opening lines in all fiction that will hopefully never be complete', and naturally I took one look at this and went ‘inspirational, stunning, fantastic, drown me in it’ because I am absolutely wild. So with my grand thanks to the genius that is Mr Archer, welcome thusly to a little thing I like to called Timed Out. :D

Have missed this, honestly... (Selma, I know you’ll want in, and thus @q-card ^_^)

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

Q of the Continuum hovered in silence, peering dully through a galaxy-wide nebula of dimness, with the exact same grimace he’d been sporting since he’d accidentally destroyed the phenomena known as time, twelve centimetres ago.

“Well, it could be worse,” he thought aloud, rationale not quite keeping up with his inner mutterings. “Who even needs time? I’ll just... I’ll just pretend it never happened. No one will even notice, it’ll be absolutely fine!” 

He sighed deeply, dispelling particles of nebula across light... inches? Furlongs? Something non-timey, he imagined. 

His siblings were going to kill him. 

“It could be worse, it could be worse,” he murmured as a sort of enigmatic mantra, wincing at the sheer chaos; trillions upon trillions of threads were scattered where they’d once led to individual worlds and lives beneath the blankness, the grandest and most horrific tangle of wool in the knitting box that was the universe. “I can absolutely fix this, completely -”

He tugged at sixteen ribbons simultaneously, all of which crumbled to atoms beneath his touch. Well, what was sixteen mortals having no perception of their own mortality, or their wedding anniversaries, or their children’s birthdays? Who would even notice? Certainly not them... 

Were entities supposed to covet large quantities of stiff alcohol? Perhaps Jean-Luc would have something relevant, a nice dose of mental clar -

Oh stars, he realised silently. Merde!

He snapped instantly, summoning his beloved captain; Jean-Luc Picard stood stock-still, frozen in a moment, brow ironically risen as he stared unknowingly into the dust of shattered time.

“Well, mildly awkward,” Q began at a man who definitely couldn’t hear him, feeling a practice run may be in order. “You see, dear, this was the linear progression of the universe, but you know of course that I like to tinker whilst you’re at work...” He cleared his throat pointedly, started again - that would hardly pass.

“’What’s this, darling?’ I hear you enquire affectionately, not at all furiously... well, my precious captain, I’m glad you asked! This was time, and now it’s slightly... exploded, but -”

His head spontaneously fell into his hands, a moan of sheer despair rising in an anguished muffle. Maybe he should summon an impenetrable wall, hide behind it for the rest of... space, he assumed. Perhaps several billion metres’ worth.

Never mind his siblings, his husband was going to murder him fathoms before they even realised his cataclysmic idiocy.

What is it humans say, Q - ‘rip the band-aid off’? 

He stood a little straighter, grimaced painfully, concentrated, and clicked; Picard’s physical form miraculously began to ignore the fact it was outside the time that no longer existed, though he seemed rather surprised at his position in open space, and even more astonished at what was before him.

“Q? What in the name of - where are we?” He snapped. “I’m rather in the middle of something -”

“Oh, I’m sure you were absolutely swept off your feet,” Q breezed, “but you’ve no need to worry about that any longer, I assure you... or possibly ever again.”

There was an awkward pause, charged by the most caustic of glares.

“What the hell have you done?”

He should vanish, Q knew in the protracted few millimetres, or send him home, find a way to fix it alone, because how in the cosmos’ name was a mere human meant to help with this, however extraordinary he was? 

‘Communication is key to this relationship’s success, Q - if we are to flourish, you must explain your actions when necessary, and I mine.’ It had been whispered against his human shell in the dead of evening, a soft understanding, and he’d shivered against the silent vow of the promise his eyes offered.

“You’re going to grievously overreact, Jean-Luc.” 

“That is a distinct possibility, yes.”

How very reassuring. He swallowed, spun the man to the madness before him.

“So, once upon a -” wonderful phrasing there, Q... “That whole ‘time’ thing, mon capitaine, the one you really enjoy following the regular mortal pathway of?”

Picard paled four distinct shades, and Q absently checked he’d oxygenated him sufficiently.

“That’s... time?!”

“It was,” the god corrected, wishing the thankfully intact fabric of reality would swallow him, essence and all, where he hovered. “It’s a comprehensive mess, now. We are thoroughly timed out. Out of time, my dear. Do hope your uniform’s a timeless fashion -”

“Fix it,” Picard commanded simply, eyes ablaze with the fires of supernovas. Q rolled his own in exasperation.

“If I could just fix it, do you think we’d be having this conversation?”

Fury and despair in flawless equilibrium met him, and he subtly shifted in discomfort.

“Are you trying to suggest that time itself is irreparably fractured?”

Good galaxies, they’d gotten to raised voices... “Well no, not quite. I’m trying to suggest that it doesn’t exist at all. No connections, threadbare, mostly gaseous... a comprehensive disaster, if you will.” He cleared his throat, chancing a glance at his livid husband. “You’re not appreciating the flippancy.”

“Indeed not,” snapped Picard. “You will fix this, dammit!”

Q was glad one of them had some level of confidence, at least. “I’m going to try very hard, Jean-Luc. What would be helpful is a good mortal perspect -”

Ah, he realised. I’m in love with one of those.

He levelled the still-enraged captain with his most curious gaze, glimmer of a smile tugging at lips. “How good are you at sitting still, dear?”

Picard pursed lips primed to throw the most toxic of statements at his usually beloved before Q tilted his head in deferrence.

“... Might be for several hundred light-kilometres... fear not, I faithfully promise to keep you alive!”

“Consider me reassured,” Picard spat, before letting loose a frustrated sigh that sounded rather more like a snarl. “Will you at least grant me a seat, then?”

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

“Right!” Q muttered three weeks on, having finally reestablished the concept of a week in the past several light millimetres. Seconds had almost reappeared - he estimated it would take an extra quarter-parsec or so. “Almost done, dear - did you perhaps need a break? I could chill some wine -”

No, Picard thought at him coldly, unable to do much else whilst he was viewing the whole of space-time through a wide-angled lens - ‘I need someone who understands linearity, dearest! An electron microscope of simplicity. I avow you shall forget everything you ever learned!’ He took a brief second to twitch just slightly, to pointedly sharpen a dulled glare of utter rage. Finish the damned job!

“Duly noted, just thought I’d ask...”

... He was definitely going to be sleeping on the couch for a good while to come, he knew in defeat.

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

“Well, that was educational,” Q had murmured eventually, withdrawing from his husband’s mental space completely at last. It had been two million, four hundred and nineteen thousand, two hundred and six seconds, a concept that finally made complete sense again. He could divide it down to the yoctosecond, round it up to the closest eon, meet himself in the middle and long-multiply the distance in working days from Saturn to the lower atmosphere of Betazed at warp three and a half.

It might well take at least that long for Jean-Luc to forgive him, he thought dully.

Well, at least they had the luxury of allowing him the time now - and if he snuck in silently next to him once he was asleep, altered his mass to nothingness to remain undetected, he wasn’t about to mention it.

“Goodnight, Jean-Luc,” he announced mildly, readjusting a blanket slung haphazardly across the couch.

“I hate you,” his husband replied frostily. “Lights.”

He knew better than to click them out. “Oh, you don’t.”

“I really wish I did, sometimes.”

Q grinned merrily, hiding it behind the covers of Shakespeare’s complete works.

[legolasoftherings]

Good Together

Legolas x reader, Legolas x Tauriel

Word Count: 1,225

Warnings: Angst, a redemption arc?

A/N: Oh my lord this is gonna be a heartbreaker. This fic was inspired by Good Together by Shallou and Ashe. I definitely suggest that you listen to it in order to get in the mood? I guess? Italicized words are direct song quotes.

“We couldn’t love from a distance; it took some time, but I realized you and I are better off missing each other's eyes,”

Y/n found herself pacing back and forth on the floor of the quarters that she shared with Legolas… again. She couldn’t stop thinking about him: the way he smiled when he looked at her, his eyes when he was enjoying himself, his firm but gentle way of holding her, it was all too much.

At this point, he had been leaving for extended periods of time for decades. His duties demanded that of him, but it broke her heart every time he walked out the door. She loved him too much to tell him not to leave, to spare her the continued heartbreak, but she knew that it would have to end, for her sake and his. Every time he left, Y/n knew that he might lay eyes on a woman more beautiful, more intelligent, and more charming than herself, and the thought of it tore her apart.

Finally, Y/n pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote her heart out, spilling many tears on the black ink. At the end, she signed her name and placed it on his side of the bed. She knew he wouldn’t be back for a few days, so she packed up her clothes and things in little boxes. She asked her parents if she could move back in with them, which of course they said yes to, seeing how distressed she was. Back in her old bedroom, she locked the door, and didn’t come out for hours. Y/n’s body wracked with sobs, and no one could bring her comfort.

“A box of your things is covered in dust, and I can't bring myself to open it cause I wanna wear something that you once loved,”

A few days later, when unpacking her things into her closet, Y/n realized that one of your clothing items, a tunic, was Legolas’. Y/n snuck back to his quarters, seeing as he hadn’t returned yet. She ran into his bedroom, keeping her eyes barely open, so as to not see anything that might set off her grief, and threw the tunic on the bed.

Running out of his quarters, she heard the unmistakable announcement that the prince was back from wherever he went this time, so she had to act fast. Y/n sped back to her parent’s quarters, and not a moment too soon. She almost made eye contact with the elven prince, but barely slipped inside the door.

Legolas was beyond excited to return to his love, and flew through the obligatory pleasantries that had to happen when he returned from routine journeys. As he passed through the halls, he nodded with smiles at elves that he walked by, just happy to be home. When he reached the door to his chambers, he knocked lightly, grinning. No answer. He let himself in, slightly surprised, but not put out of his good mood. The rooms were dark, and Legolas’ joy quickly seeped into anxiety. Did something happen to Y/n?

As he ran around his quarters, he almost overlooked a small piece of paper lying on his bed covers. He snatched it up in a hurry, skimmed it, and felt his heart splinter into a thousand tiny pieces. Collapsing onto the bed, the tears began to fall without him trying, and there he sat, for many hours, refusing all outside contact.

“Did you read the letter that I left you? If I know you read it, then I'd feel alright.”

7 MONTHS LATER

Legolas brooded through the halls of the palace, one of the rare times when he wasn’t locked in his chambers or out of the kingdom. Elves that made eye contact quickly looked away, as if they knew something that he didn’t. Y/n was his known ex-lover, but they had been parted for a while now. Legolas’ thoughts began to overcome him; the anxious and grieving thoughts that he had tried to suppress for many months. He quickly shook his head, effectively clearing it, and continued on his way.

As he passed a long hall, he took a double take. Legolas saw Y/n giggling and holding the hand of an ellon that he had seen in passing before as they snuck around the halls. The ellon leaned in for a gentle kiss, and she didn’t refuse him. Legolas’ heart skipped a beat, and slightly gasped.

“You look so good together, I can't even be mad. I'm so glad that you're happy like we were then, when I was yours.”

Y/n opened her eyes at the slight noise at the end of the hall, and saw Legolas. She stepped back from the ellon suddenly, causing him to ask, “What is wrong, meleth nin?”

“Nothing, love,” she said as Legolas stumbled out of her view, and returned to her new lover’s eyes.

Legolas practically ran back to his dark quarters. The worst had come to pass. Y/n had moved on, without him. It was his turn to forget about her, and he knew it.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Legolas chuckled as he ran down the hall, chasing Tauriel, who had scared him half to death during target practice.

“I’ll get you next time!” he called after her retreating back.

As he strode around a corner to return to his chambers, he almost ran straight into Y/n.

“Legolas!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’m so sorry, my lady,” Legolas answered, distracted, but looked down, “Oh, Y/n.”

“Yes?” you asked, a smile lighting up your features.

In truth, the two of you had barely spoken in a year; although an elf year seems like a blink of an eye, to Legolas, it had seemed like forever and a day. He suddenly had absolutely no idea what to say, but he knew he had to say something to fill the silence, “How have you been?”

Y/n laughed in earnest this time, saying, “You were always one for conversation. I’m doing very well. How have you been doing, Legolas?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing fine,” he answered looking down, and kicking the ground with the toe of his boot, “I see you’ve found someone new.”

Y/n sighed, and pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “Yes Legolas, and his name is Beriedir. Are you with Tauriel?” she asked suddenly.

“Wha---no, well, um,” Legolas stuttered, unable to answer.

“Legolas, it’s okay to move on. I have, and you should too. Take your time, but she’s cute!”

“I know, Y/n,” he said, with a laugh, something he had not done in her presence for what had seemed a very long time.

She gave him a reassuring smile, and began to walk away. She stopped short, and turned around, saying, “I know you can do it, mellon.”

Legolas smiled back, feeling confused, but a good kind of confused. Y/n had barely spoken to him, but now, she’s calling me a friend? “I’ll take it,” he thought to himself, smiling. Legolas turned around, and walked in the direction that he saw Tauriel run towards, a new hope in his healing heart.

“If I had to choose better weather, I'd choose you every time. We were the summer but you're fallin' for someone else and that's okay.”

[kahnah23]

Princess Fiona

Am I too late to the party? Yes. Does that stop me? Hell no!

My entry for Fiona week is a beautiful collab with Pistachio!

We actually joked about adding Fiona to the multiverse weeks ago and when Fiona-week came around... oh, we knew what to do! In this royalty timeline Geoff adopts little Gavin but Jack? Oh, Jack adopts someone else and when Geoff and Jack marry? Well, Gavin has now a little sister he can love and take care off!

And they get along like a house on fire.

|Read on Ao3|

Absolute stunning art by this wonderful person:

https://bizarepistachio.tumblr.com/

Deep Water

“You know what Geoff’s biggest mistake was?”

“Leaving us unsupervised?” Fiona ventured.

“We are supervised,” Gavin reminded her only for both of them to break out into immature snickers.

“As if the maids he sent with us have any control over us! They are all asleep already!”

Which reminded them to maybe lower their voices a little, but it wouldn’t take long until they would rise again. There was something you couldn’t quite stifle about laughter after midnight.

“Geoff’s biggest mistake was expecting we wouldn’t find his secret stash,” Gavin told her wisely. Pointing towards the cabinet that hadn’t really been hidden, but rather forgotten.

Sneaking into Geoff’s study hadn’t been a hassle and once the two of them had been dumped here, there hadn’t been much to do but search around the property for something to occupy them with. 

Because oh, the mighty Kings Geoff and Jack Ramsey were busy with the rulers of Agptek visiting and maybe, just maybe, Prince Gavin and Princess Fiona had been a little too excited about it all. Maybe they had been a tad too enthusiastic preparing the festivities that Geoff had found it easier to just get them out of the picture. 

Like far away. 

Like a mansion in the middle of nowhere that neither of them had even heard about.

So here they were; and for the next week, they better made the best of it. Breaking into Geoff’s old stash of wine and liquor was only the first step.

“When did Geoff stop drinking?” Fiona asked. “You think this stuff has gone bad?”

“No way! Alcohol just gets better with time!”

He pulled a bottle out and blew dust from it. Well, maybe it was older than he had expected, but that didn't stop them. He pulled on the cork, but the damn thing wouldn't budge.

"Are you for real?" Fiona whispered and snatched the bottle from his hands. "What kind of man are you? Look how it's done."

She held the bottle between her thighs and pulled pretty unsuccessful on the cork.

"You need to wiggle it!"

"I don't need to wiggle it, I need to pull it out!"

"If you wiggle it, it'll come out."

"Bullshit. You're so full of bullshit, Gavin!" She yanked some more on the cork until giving up and glaring at the thing like that would help. At least until she reached for the rapier at her hip. Alarmed, Gavin snatched the bottle back.

"Bad idea!"

"You don't tell me what to do, you're the master of bad ideas! I can just cut this thing open!"

"And have all the shards in the wine?"

Fiona shrugged as if that was a risk she was willing to take, but before she could protest further, they were interrupted by steps. Someone was walking outside the room and down the hallway, probably a servant. 

Both of them fell silent. It was like a lifelong game, like being ten years old again and hiding from the next lecture about economics. And just like back then, they crouched behind Geoff's desk, pretending that no one could ever find them there.

It woke long forgotten memories. Fiona, younger than him and so much smaller, always gripping his hand tight, having a hard time keeping up with his long legs. How she had pushed herself in the space beneath the desk, hands clamped over her mouth to not make a sound but cheeks bright red in excitement.

Now she just looked determined, like she wanted to dare whoever would find them to try and stop her. It made Gavin laugh and she quickly shushed him.

The steps faded and they waited for a moment longer before relaxing again.

"Let's get out of here," Fiona proclaimed. Gavin didn't refute. Who was he to deny his little sister?

They made their way out of Geoff's study and snuck down the stairs. Traipsing out the door with no one the wiser. The gate to the garden was easy to open, carelessly unlocked. They’re greeted by a gust of wind; it’s the height of summer, so it wasn’t cold. Actually more pleasant than being inside. Out here, in the garden, it smelled like flowers, herbs, and fresh grass.

Distant cicadas still buzzed under the moonlight. When Gavin looked up, the sky was clear and brilliant with stars. Geoff would love it here, Gavin had noticed a telescope up in his study, but back at home, he was probably too busy with the visitors to even notice the clear nights. Maybe Jack would remind him; because Jack was good with things like that, but who knew.

"Come on," Fiona whispered to not disturb the wildlife. She didn't look up, more focused on the world around them than the unreachable stories above. Something she had gotten from Jack, this more realistic approach, and more than once it had snapped Gavin out of his headspace.

Gravel crunched under their boots, otherwise their movements were silent. Fiona had exchanged her pompous dresses for a white tunic and simple pants before conducting mischief. It helped her sneak around, unbothered by excessive finery.

The garden wasn't as big as the one at home, though it was still fun to explore a new place. There were more flowers here, but not as many herbs or bushes, and while he couldn't quite see their colors in the pale moonlight, he knew they had to be beautiful.

Water. Gavin could hear it; distant and near soundless. His grip tightened around the bottle. He wasn't comfortable with open water; probably never would be.

Fiona knew it too, though she didn’t mention it. It was a hard thing to hide while growing up together. No, she just slowed down until they were walking next to each other, hands brushing occasionally. 

There was strength in that, in the proximity of a familiar person and courage. Courage because even though they weren't of the same blood, she had been his little sister even before Geoff's and Jack's marriage. He had to be steadfast for her.

It was a lake at the edge of the garden, a perfect mirror in the stillness. It reflected the clouds, moon, and stars with all their stories. Fiona didn't hesitate to let herself drop on the edge of it.

Gavin followed a bit more reluctantly.

When he pulled on the cork this time, it popped open without a problem. Probably because this was the right time and space. Better than Geoff's old study anyway. Out here the wine would taste so much richer.

They shared the bottle without a word; out here silence reigned. Though that rule fell as the wind picked up; the reeds around the lake whispered, the frogs and toads croaking began anew, and the lake lapped at its shore.

"Do you mind?" Fiona asked after a while. She had kicked her boots off, to let her feet dangle in the water and Gavin envied her for the freedom.

"I don't," he assured her because he knew what she was really talking about. They had turned to this conversation so often, that he had dreams about it.

"You are the firstborn. You are more Ramsey than me," she said. "I'm the daughter of the King's husband, not of the King himself. That's what they always say."

"And still not a lot of people protested when Geoff announced you his heir," Gavin reminded her. It would be foolish to pretend that hadn't hurt, but he wasn't mad at Fiona. No way, after thinking about it, he was fine with it.

"Some people are still protesting it. They want to stay with tradition."

"People like that will never be happy. Neither of us is from Geoff's blood. For them, the Ramsey name will die with Geoff." Gavin shrugged. "You're more popular than me and also more than capable. I'm the weird boy who gets too interested in blasphemous things like science."

"You are a weird boy," Fiona agreed happily and handed him the bottle.

"They rather want their fierce warrior princess!"

"Oh please!"

"I mean it!" Gavin scooted closer, even if it meant nearly touching the water. "Let's just keep this kingdom safe. Who cares which of us gets a fancy hat out of it."

Fiona cocked her head, the midnight light silver on her skin as she smiled.

"In the end, that's all we have to do, isn't it?"

[youarejesting]

Femme: 29

[MASTERLIST]

Recap: Work is finished for the year. After yet another mishap walking home, Joon asked to speak with you. He had been stressed from a big case at work so you decided to try and relieve him. A blow job later, you visited Yoongi’s home studio and he helped you finish before helping himself. Jimin returned home, dinner with the fam. Once they leave you decided it is a good time to talk about your kinks and preferences as a group.

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature Themes.

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Blow job, Squirting, Masturbation, daddy/baby girl, praise kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, group sex, first time, deep throat, over stimulation, forced orgasm (if you squint really hard across a football field, you might see some Yoonmin), (if you turn your head ninety degree’s and shut your left eye, and then shut the right you might read some KookieMonster/NamKook), (If you shake your head back and forth and wave your hand in front of your face between you and your phone you might read some dirty talk)

Length: 4.2k words

Announcement: I just picked some standard kinks from a website that I thought weren’t too crazy or too boring.

“Alright well let’s go to the table and do this seriously, because it is going to be a long discussion” You breathed heading to your room to collect your paper. When you stepped out you saw Yoongi making coffee and hot chocolate while Jungkook was putting out some snacks.. You decided to sit at the head of the table and Namjoon took the opposite with his laptop. Looking around you started addressing some issues. “Nobody is allowed to make fun of, laugh or shame anyone for anything, feel free to add anything to your lists whilst we sit here because if I hear something that sounds interesting. I won’t hesitate to add it to my list.”

“What if something in our ‘Yes’ column is in your ‘No’ column”  Hoseok looked pretty nervous, you reached over the table taking his hand. Telling them all that everything is subject to change. They all seemed a little nervous looking around wondering who was going to read theirs first.

“Well I guess I will start, just so you can get an idea, let’s begin with the ‘Yes’ column. Everything leading to sex is not only okay but I would say required, that includes kissing and touching foreplay business” They all nodded, you could see Jungkook and Seokjin’s neck and ears going red. Namjoon was typing on his laptop agreeing with your words. “Oral both giving and receiving. Threesomes and group sex. Voyeurism and exhibitionism. Bondage and rough sex, both being tied and tying my partner up sounds fun. Female domination now i’m not saying I am good at it, but I am comfortable with trying it.”

Pausing letting your words sink in. The boys were shifting in their seats looking anywhere but at one another and fiddling with their paper. You smiled when you caught Namjoon’s eyes across the table, he nodded for you to continue. 

“Dirty talk and trying Experimental positions. Impact play, more specifically the idea of spanking seems fun, I don’t know about paddles or whips and I would currently at this moment limit the area’s of impact to my thighs ass. Role Playing sounds like a lot of fun. Lingerie makes me feel very pretty so that would be a nice experience. Sensation play, like music, blind folds or feathers seems very sensual. Shibari and Kinbaku, sounds like something I want to try. Daddy/Baby Girl and Kitten play. Toys are welcome. And the one I really like the idea of but you all may not is watching you boys together” 

You waited for Namjoon to catch up with typing and you looked at the boys who all looked a little weirded out at the mention of them being intimate with one another you giggled. A few however looked thoughtful contemplating the idea, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

“Things that are in the ‘Maybe’ column as I am unsure if I will like them or they are something I would request you ask before trying and perhaps even ask before every time you wish to try. Include Anal Sex, Foot fetishism, Orgasm Control. Humiliation I may be fine with you calling me a degrading names but if you take it too far I might get upset. Gagging, I am scared I might actually vomit if you actively try but I am more than happy to try.”

“For The ‘No’ Column. Wax and Fire play, seems messy and dangerous. Electrostimulation. Water sports and Scat play. No way in hell am I wanting to use biological human waste in the bedroom it is messy and very unhealthy. But I would also like to say accidents happen and I understand that. I damn near cried when I thought I had peed myself this afternoon.”

“You were cute though, covering your face and apologizing. If it happens accidentally we would never be mad and we would still love you baby” Yoongi smiled up the table running his fingers along his bottom lip.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked trying to look between you and Yoongi.

“Namjoon was stressed so I gave him a blow job and Yoongi returned the favor to me, in the studio.” You said quietly and Taehyung’s mouth fell open.

“How was it?” Hoseok grinned asking Namjoon

“Amazing, better than anything you could dream of” Namjoon said “Women are amazing”

“She is so cute, and tastes amazing” Yoongi licked his lips moaning under his breath remembering the events from

“Very sensitive” Seokjin smiled

“You too?” Taehyung whined pointing at three of his hyungs “Baby bear me too, me too”

“Ya wait your turn I am the next oldest” Hoseok said and you laughed wholeheartedly at their argument over who got to be with you next.

“We only made out, with a bit of touching nothing more” Seokjin huffed “I should get a proper turn”

“I am not following a particular order. I am just living in the moment and trying to forget my worries about being intimate. If something feels good, I will try to let it happen, if I am not busy” You ran your hand through your hair watching them. They went around adding in new things they wanted to try, you added a few more to your list, your favorite was cock warming. 

“That sounds lovely, I would love to fall asleep that way.” A few of them seemed to squirm once more at the thought. You had established a safe word, looking fondly at the bracelet around your wrist. The safe word was ‘Bangtan’ which made Jungkook’s heart fluttering.

“And that’s everyone” Namjoon smiled saving the document to an external hard drive so he doesn’t accidentally get it mixed with his work documents. He printed a copy for the filing cabinet, in his office. 

“Well I am going to head to bed. Oh and I don’t work until after the New Year, Something about people not eating Ice Cream during Winter which is barbaric if you ask me?” You laughed trying to make your escape. Hoseok grabbed your arm pulling you onto his lap. You could feel how turned on he was just from the discussion. “Hey you can’t be selfish, if you do this in front of the boys you have to be willing to share” 

“We can share, isn’t that right boys?” He grinned running his hands up the front of your shirt, standing up you slipped away from his wandering hands. He looked curious after you, hoping he didn’t offend or scare you but still smiling brightly as part of him could tell from your body language you were being playful. 

You moved across the table to sit on Jungkook’s lap smiling at Hoseok. He pushed his tongue against his cheek at your action. The youngest was also sporting a rather large bulge in his pants and was rather flushed. Noticing their hungry eyes fall on you, a heavy feeling filled the room like a thick layer of pheromones calling out. Jungkook had his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade, panting heavily the hormones rushing to his head and frying his brain from all thoughts.

You were trying not to panic, your earlier promised to not worry was gone. This anticipation between the actions and words was hard to deal with. You weren’t in the moment enjoying yourself, you were worried about how to initiate this. They all seemed to be waiting for you to make a move or do something.

Busying yourself with cleaning up all the mugs from the table as nonchalantly as possible. Jungkook joined you packing away the snacks and throwing away any rubbish. “Kookie you should take a shower, you were working out”

“Don’t have too much fun without me?” He looked absolutely defeated his eyes turned down like a sad bunny, you could imagine ears flopping down by his head. Catching his arm before he could retreat down the hallway.

“We won’t do anything without you Jungkook” You assured him pulling him down for a kiss. He was quick to show enthusiasm and with all the practice he had every morning before work. He knew what you liked and wasn’t afraid to exploit it.

“Shower with me?” he whispered against your lips 

“I can, but we have to invite the other boys too” you thought for a moment squeezing his biceps.

“What are you two plotting?” Hoseok huffed

“Anyone who wants to come for a shower, let’s go” he gave a boyish grin at his hyungs throwing you over his shoulder and smacking your butt. “Come on yeobo, your our leading lady”

“I am so dirty, I was traveling all day on the train” Jimin shot out of his seat.

“I should probably shower too” Seokjin said heading to the bathroom, you couldn’t see them anymore as Jungkook continued down the hall.

“You already had a shower?” Taehyung accused the older male, you were laughing as Hoseok snuck up behind Jungkook and gave you a kiss whilst you hung from the maknaes shoulder.

“I got sweaty making dinner, and it’s bad for my beautiful face to be sweaty” The older male said dramatically appearing in the hallway

You were placed down in the middle of the bathroom. Jungkook stepped back unsure. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon were the first to remove their shirts. Jungkook backed away behind the braver three, slowly pulling off his own shirt. Telling himself it was just like at the gym, some guys go shirtless when working out.

Yoongi noticed your expression stepping closer, turning your back to the boys to give you some privacy “Tell me what’s got you worried?” His eyes scanning your face, Yoongi had spent most of his life observing never really participating and he learnt a lot from, enough to know that you were worried. 

“I am just nervous when everyone gives me time to think, If someone initiates this, I will be fine” You hummed it was stupid but you were just so unsure these were the boys you were to be with forever and you loved them to pieces, you didn’t want to ruin anything.

“Initiate how?” your cheeks flamed in embarrassment from his question, but he looked at you sincerely. His thumb brushing the pink tint on your cheek.

“Just if someone starts kissing me, I will be distracted and feel more confident to get undressed”

“Hoseok, c’mere” Yoongi’s Daegu accent slipped out and you licked your dry lips.

“I like your Daegu Satoori, it’s sexy” he nodded his mouth pressed together in a line Hoseok stopping beside you.

“I will keep that in mind kitten. Hobi, kiss her with everything you got” Yoongi slapped Hoseok’s ass. Hoseok reacted like he was a race horse at the starting gates. Lurching forward and pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed back feeling the anxiety melt away. 

Yoongi stood behind you his cool fingers were unbuttoning your shirt, sliding the material off your shoulders kissing your exposed skin. “Our kitten is very shy, she says that she gets anxious when she has to initiate things, she likes to be distracted because that’s when she becomes most confident”

You began removing your jeans and Hoseok moved to your neck. In the mirror, you saw the boys watching each had removed their shirts. Yoongi and  Namjoon were removing their trousers. You beckoned them all. Taehyung bounded over like a puppy turning in Hoseok’s arms. He enveloped you his big hands splayed across your back.

 He dove in for a kiss and you met him enthusiastically, pulling off his shirt and letting your hands trace his body as you had with Hoseok. Taehyung started trying to remove your bra but was struggling, you couldn’t help giggling into his mouth. 

He was pouting and whining about you laughing at him. Apologizing you reached behind you removing the offending brassier, tossing it behind Taehyung at the boys. His eyes widened comically and he froze staring at your breasts. A few of the other boys tried to look around Taehyung to get a glimpse.

The shower started running and it was then you noticed Yoongi had disappeared his clothes dumped onto the tiles where he once was standing. With a grin you ran your hand through your hair and headed to the shower opening the glass door, removing your underwear before stepping inside.

“Kitten you look delectable” Yoongi said under one of the many jets of water that seemed to come out from every angle. The shower seemed fitting for the eight of you. You stood under one of the water jets and wet your hair, the trickling of warm water eased your tense shoulders.  

“I see why the shower is so big now” Namjoon muttered stepping into the shower. Making sure not to look down just yet. You didn’t want to freak any of them out by staring at their junk, “how else would we all fit”

Jungkook was pushed in by Hoseok who was massaging Jungkook’s shoulders telling him to relax. Jungkook’s hands covering himself, everyone followed like an impromptu conga line. He must have been rather nervous he was the youngest and had already told you he felt inferior to his hyungs. Walking over you place your hand on his back leading him to the warm water. Pulling him against you feeling, his boner pressed between you and his lower abdomen. 

He kissed you like he would everyday at the park, his lips traveling to your neck you noticed all the guys watching and your thighs tightened around nothing. You had your work cut out for you. Seven hot blooded young men with healthy sex drives. You pressed him to sit on the built in shower seat, it was a long tiled bench that ran across the bottom half of the wall.

Dropping to your knees and breaking away from the kiss, you took him in your hand. He let out a small mewl at your touch his stomach muscles contracting. You saw him looking at the others nervously. 

“Don’t look at us, look at her, trust me you won’t want to miss it” Namjoon sighed, placing his hand behind Jungkook’s head and tilting it to face back down. You moaned at the sight.

You kissed his lips and telling Jungkook what you wanted to do. “Is that okay?”

“Yes” he said breathless before correcting himself “Uh please if you want to” 

He was so hard. Wrapping your fingers around his length, running your thumb over his head. You massage him slowly not in a teasing way but just fast enough for him to get used to the feeling, not wanting to rush him. Pumping his cock you lean down tasting the beads of precum that begin leaking with a long lap of your tongue. A groan gets caught in his throat for a second before rolling from his chest.

You finally feel like seven men isn’t such a challenge. Not when they make you feel so sexy. With your new found enthusiasm, you take him into your mouth trying not to send him over the edge just yet, but he is young and his groans become louder and more frequent. He bucks his hips and he can’t control himself burying himself deeply searching for warmth. You moan and try to relax feeling your gag reflex start to put up a fight but you breathed slowly through your nose and hummed trying to soothe the reaction. 

Your nose was pressed against his pubic bone the burn in your throat was like drinking Yoongi’s whiskey. A few stray tears mixing with the water from the shower. Grabbing his hips trying to control his pace so you had adequate time to breathe between thrusts. He was close, growling an animalistic sound as he came. The sight of him coming undone, made your own arousal spill down your thighs.

He let you go, his body shuddering as he was calming down and you coughed slightly, noticing Namjoon watching him. You sat beside Jungkook, kissing his neck and whispering to him making sure what he had experienced was okay. Once you were sure everything had gone well you looked up at the six pairs of eyes staring down at you. The throbbing between your legs becoming almost painful. They had been watching you and judging by each of their hard members they had liked what they saw.

Some of them were languidly stroking their hard cocks, while others were trying not to spoil themselves instead patiently waiting their turn. Seokjin makes eye contact winking at you, he steps over when Jungkook shakily stands. Some of the guys complain that it should be your choice who is next and he turned.

“Who is the oldest me or you?”

“You” they chorused

“So who should go next me or you?”

“You” they chimed again

He turned to you a devilish smirk on his full lips, he kisses you before he slips onto the floor in front of you. You blush causing him to chuckle. “You are so amusing, one moment you are a fiery minx, and the next you are blushing looking so innocent” he smiled opening your legs, shuffling forward he kissed you. His thumbs pressed along the undersides of your breasts and he squeezed them swallowing your whimpers.

He bent his head down to your chest. Seokjin’s tongue circling around your nipples. He took each in turn, you were unable to sit still as every pinch, lap and squeeze sent a buzz through your core. You were not quiet, making such provocative noises that bounced off the tiles. He smirked kissing the valley between your breasts and journeying south, pulling your hips forward for easier access.

He kissed your thighs, you saw Yoongi move out the corner of your eye. Turning to see him swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours. A sharp pain spread through your thigh and you looked down Seokjin had sunk his teeth against your smooth skin. 

“You keep your eyes on me, I am not a patient man, I don’t like when people interrupt me while I am enjoying my meal” He soothed the mark he left with his tongue. Leaned down, his broad shoulders bumping your knees. He sighed against you, the heat of his breath so close to your heat made your stomach clench almost doubling over. He muttered about how his wide shoulder getting in the way. He tried again and frowned before grabbing your ankle and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

He dove between your legs, his tongue swirling around your clit as he buried his face between your folds. You noticed his hand between his leg, tracing his fingers along his length. He moaned a low ‘fuck’ and groaned so deeply the vibrations made your back arch,Your fingers curling into his hair as he smirked up at you. He was taking his time with himself but he didn’t waste a second with your own pleasure.

“What does she taste like, Jin-Hyung?” Jimin asked

“Sweet like Peaches and vanilla” he said against you, it wasn’t long before you shuddered, thighs quivering threatening to close on his face. your voice warning him but he continued pressing his tongue harder against your clit, his hand squeezing around his dick. He came quietly breathy, you were the opposite coming loudly. He panted laying his cheek against your thigh and closing his eyes for a second to catch his breath.

“I want to go next” Taehyung said you took a deep breath swallowing trying to relieve your dry throat. 

“We should probably hop out of the shower soon, we have used a lot of water” you muttered

“Taehyung rushed over, Wait I want to try with you in here please” you nodded  he sat beside you kissing you his tongue fighting with yours. He pulled a funny face, “you taste like Kookie”

You moaned against him as he kissed you he wasn’t slow, he was all about chasing pleasure and you liked that. He reached between your legs, slowly played with your clit, his fingertips were slightly calloused you suspected from growing up on a farm. He pressed a single digit inside of you. One finger became two and two became three, you winced slightly. Curling his fingers forward, your body twitched against his palm, he moved his fingers quickly. He was not precise he was just creating a mess. His lips were pressed to your neck biting and sucking the flesh creating deep bruises against your skin.

You felt the familiar pressure you had felt with Yoongi. But he stopped causing a cry of despair to paint your lips, he lifted his head from watching his fingers getting sucked inside of you to look at you. His warm breath fluttering against your neck. “Can I, be inside you” he asked

His cute phrase contrasted his dark look, you nodded letting him lift you onto his lap, your hands gripping his shoulder. One hand around the base of his cock the other guiding your hips down against him.

He pressed against you, but it wasn’t quite right, reaching between you to move him to the correct place. He tried to pull you down onto his lap, but stopped him removing his hands from your hips placing them on your breasts. “No, Tae. Go slow otherwise you could hurt me” You said taking his lip between your teeth and biting it, as you moved on your own.

Taehyung’s low moans were delicious, they alone had you clenching around him. Soon you were seated on his length resting your head on his shoulder. You moved yourself slowly leaning back so the curve of his shaft would press against your most sensitive sweet spots.

“Go ahead” You breathed he gripped your hips helping you ride him, you were glad you had stayed in the shower as this was messy. Your hips bouncing in the air wildly. He was growling to himself, words you couldn’t understand but the gravel in his deep voice was sexy. He finished inside you throwing his head back panting. He continued muttering against your skin leaving more marks behind, you began to comprehend what he was saying.

“So tight, ah”

You lifted yourself from his lap and felt his cum run down your inner thighs. Hoseok sat down beside Taehyung instantly pulling you onto his lap. Your back resting against his chest, he kissed your neck and spoke to you not quiet or subtle. He outright asked if he could fuck you. Lifting your hips as an invitation, he positioned himself at your entrance. impaling yourself on his hard cock with an ‘oof’. Namjoon turned off the shower, the steam kept the room warm as did your activities.

“Can you use your mouth pretty girl?” Hoseok asked you nodded telling him you would love to. He squeezed your thighs “Anyone want to try this pretty mouth?”

They looked at each other Jimin stepping forward making sure no one protested. You kiss him hard, his plush lips were so soft, his tongue brushing yours. He pulled back and you eagerly leaned forward and took him into your mouth. Hoseok set the pace, it was a strong rhythm and they both kept perfect time. 

They were in sync but totally different, Hoseok wanted to go faster gripping your hips and picking up the pace with grunts and agile hip thrusts. Jimin was whining. As much as he loved to get rough he wanted your first time together to be slow. Wanting to savor the feeling of you, wanting to tease you.

Yoongi hissed at the sight, as Jimin gripped your hair tightly, he was very attractive his features stunningly androgynous, Yoongi felt watching you both was becoming too much. Jimin’s eyes scrunched tight his head thrown back leaving his throat exposed, “I can’t” he whined “It’s too much”

Jimin was cumming, his body vibrating, you swallowed happy to watch him come undone. Yoongi had staggered over as Jimin rode out his orgasm. Yoongi’s accent thickened his words incoherent, it sounded like he was in pain his body straining to stand upright.

Jimin’s moans were like a throaty velvet and his whines were like a beautiful choir song echoing through the bathroom. Yoongi tried to say something again but got choked up as Jimin let out a long moan letting his head roll forward once more. Yoongi came hard, some landed on your face but most of it landed on Jimin’s abdomen. Removing Jimin from your mouth you licked his abdomen tasting Yoongi. But what you weren’t expecting was Jimin running a finger up his stomach and tasting him as well. The sight brought you to the edge, your walls clenching around Hoseok. Squirting over his lap, Hoseok’s hips stuttered and he came with a praise leaving his lips before laying his head back against the cool tiles.

Namjoon, walked over gently picking you up from Hoseok who looked absolutely spent. Before sitting you on his lap, he started talking to you, running his hands over your wet hair, moving it out of your face. “Hey baby, you did so good. You think you can take one more?”

“Of course daddy” You breathed slowly as he lifted you onto his dick, you were going to be sore tomorrow.

“Look how pretty you look stuffed with my cock, baby. I am going to fill you up so much, does that sound good?”

You squirmed as his thumb rubbed against your sensitive nub, you tried to pull away the sensations too much after just finishing your second orgasm of the night. The boys started the shower again and jerked off while watching you. “I can’t come again”

He ignored you and continued “I know you can, you can come again, your such a good girl”

You felt the tightness begin in your belly, you couldn’t sit still every touch, every thrust sent after shocks from your last orgasm through your body. 

He tried a few different techniques and soon, had you on the edge, he smirked praising you some more promising to fill you. Your orgasm hit you almost painfully, crying out, it wasn’t as nice as the first or as powerful as the second. This was forced but still amazing in it’s own way.

After the shower was a daze, you were dried and dressed with the help of the maknae’s and when you stepped out heading to bed you saw the lounge room had been converted two large mattresses covered the floor with blankets and pillows piled up. Hoseok put on your favorite movie and you fell asleep in Taehyung and Yoongi’s arms.

Femme Media 29

Next Chapter

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[heyyyharry]

Chapter 11: When The Morning Comes

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry has a special surprise for his girl.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Chapter 10: Only Us - Harry’s in Paris but his heart’s in Holmes Chapel.

Wattpad link

[ANNOUNCEMENT]: I have an exam on Friday, September 13 so I won’t be able to update next week (Saturday, September 14). The next chapter will be posted on Saturday, September 21. 

(I also created a Spotify playlist for this trilogy! Check it out!)

- Love, Allie.

.

.

.

⌲ Facetime?

⌲ Bambi: Wait, I thought you were going out?

⌲ Nah. Plans canceled.

⌲ Bambi: Oh no :(

⌲ Are you still with the girls?

⌲ Want to see you.

⌲ Bambi: Nope, I got home an hour ago. Wait a sec.

Harry lied back on his bed, peering at the bright screen in the darkness while his heart was pounding like a drum. What should he say to her? How should he begin? He had mentally prepared a script on the ride back to the hotel, but now he'd forgotten every single word as all these negative thoughts were eating away at him.

He couldn't forgive Ruby for the fucked up thing that she'd done. But what about himself? Could he forgive himself? Y/N might have kept a secret from him, but he was the one that owed her an apology. It was sad to think about all the smiles she'd had to fake to convince him that everything was fine. The worst part was, he'd believed them all.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as FaceTime rang and he accepted the call, only to be greeted by a black screen.

"Turn on your camera, Bambi," he said, frowning.

"Shhh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Harry was even more confused when he heard rustles in the background. "What are you up to, kid?"

Y/N finally removed her hands and stepped away from her laptop, giving Harry the full view of the dusty blue dress she was wearing.

"This is my bridesmaid dress. I want you to be the first one to see it on me."

"Jesus Christ..." Harry muttered, smiling so big that his cheeks hurt.

Words couldn't describe how gorgeous his girlfriend looked right now. The fancy floor-length dress should've contrasted her bare face and messy hair, but on the contrary, it intensified her beauty. He wished she could for once see herself through his eyes, maybe then she would love herself as much as he loved her.

Y/N looked straight into the webcam as she adjusted the spaghetti straps and stepped closer to show him the gorgeous lace details on the bodice.

"You're perfect," he sounded almost breathless. "Gosh, you're perfect."

His reaction got her blushing but she couldn't stop grinning now.

"Do I look like a princess?" she asked and gave him another twirl with both arms rounded above her head like a ballerina. Now as an adult, she was still obsessed with tulle dresses, and Harry thought it was absolutely endearing.

"You do, baby, you do. You're my little princess."

"My prince." She bobbed a curtsy to him like the exuberant little girl he'd grown up with. And he would kill to see her like this every day, for the rest of his life.

"You shouldn't be allowed to be at the wedding, you're gonna steal all the attention away from the brides."

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky remark and plumped herself into the spinning chair. The Ruby problem still hadn't slipped his mind, and he was still mad as hell, but this certainly wasn't the right time to talk about it. She was excited, and he didn't have the heart to take that away from her.

He beamed, showing his teeth. "Maybe I'll show up as a surprise guest and steal all the attention from you."

Y/N only snorted as she assumed he was kidding. For someone who owned a private jet and big houses in so many cities in the world, Harry wasn't as free as people might think. He had to be on set almost every day for the rest of his stay in Paris, so if he wanted to attend the wedding, he would have to duplicate himself.

But a wise man once said, 'there's no problem, only solutions.' This time, Harry might have found the perfect solution.

The next morning, as he got on set, everyone wondered if something had happened to him the night before. He was talking to everyone and cracking jokes, and Evangeline, the director, told him, "keep up with that attitude and today might be your lucky day."

He hoped she was right, but so far, his day had been pretty mediocre. Sure he'd had a few happy and memorable moments during scenes and in between. But overall, mediocre. It was the thoughts about what he would do after finishing work that kept him motivated.

Acting with Ruby might be the only challenge of today. It wouldn't have been so hard if earlier that morning she hadn't had flowers sent to his trailer with a note saying she was sorry. How could she simplify what had happened with a single bouquet? Their issues were way bigger than that and too much for him to handle, so just like those flowers from her, he tossed them in the bin. Out of sight, out of mind.

At around 5 PM, Harry left the film set. Instead of going back to his hotel, he asked the driver to take him to the airport where his private jet was waiting to take him back to London. By the time he got back to Holmes Chapel after a four-hour drive, it would've been almost midnight.

As his car moved over the country road, lights on full beam, he finally understood why Y/N enjoyed long night drives so much. This was his time to let his brain roam free. He felt like the only person in this world as cars drove past him without knowing who he was. The idea of being a nobody excited him. When the morning came, he would return to London and fly back to Paris, pretending that tonight had never happened. Because tonight, he wasn't Harry Styles the movie star, he was just a nobody from Cheshire going home to visit his girl.

Meanwhile, Y/N was home and wide awake. During her first two years of college, she had spent almost every night at a different party or a club, just trying to find meanings for her life by doing crazy meaningless things. But her mindset had changed after a year without him, and now she preferred spending time alone, and of course, with him.

It was nearly half-past eleven. she was sitting on the bed, with her laptop on her lap and Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac blasting through the Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand. She couldn't call Harry for he'd told her he would be out with his team, so she decided to reread his notes and maybe write something. She had expected it to be hard to be inspired after having taken such a long break from writing, but then she ended up sitting for hours in front of her laptop, typing away effortlessly.

When the first few pebbles hit her window, she was too caught up in her own fictional world to hear it. But that was only until the biggest one nearly broke through the glass and caught her attention. She bounced off the bed and dashed to the window to see what was happening.

"Harry?!" Her eyes were wide with shock. She had to lean outside a bit further to make sure the streetlight wasn't playing tricks on her vision. But then he called, "Bambi!" And she knew she wasn't insane. He was.

"What the hell?!"

"Juliet would never use that kind of language!" He chuckled.

"And you're not Romeo," she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Oh, wait, you know what? From this angle, you do look like young Leo in 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"Told ya!"

"Or maybe it's just the bad lighting."

Harry held up his middle finger as she tossed her head back and laughed.

"Just get down here before your dad wakes up and kills me!"

"Shit, you're right. One minute!" Giggling, she threw on a jacket over her PJ and snuck out of the house. The moment she burst through her front door, she leaped fast down the steps and straight into his strong arms.

There was the kind of hug that was brief and gentle; then there was the kind of hug that was suffocatingly affectionate, like this one, her favorite. She stood on her toes, arms draped around his neck as she inhaled the familiar scent from his shirt to make up for the last few days she hadn't got to feel him. As he leaned down, she stretched her neck for an open-mouthed kiss, clumsy yet impassioned. He nearly lifted her off the ground completely and squeezed the air out of her, but she didn't complain. She could stay like this, right here with him, until sunrise.

By midnight the darkness was almost absolute. The moon had shrunk to almost nothing and the tiny little stars scattering across the sky looked little specks of dust on a black velvet blanket. With the flashlight on their phones guiding the way, she snuck him into her backyard, and they climbed over the new fence to get into his yard. He went first and then held onto her hips to get her down.

"Have you done this before?" she asked when he turned on the outdoor lights on his back porch.

"Done what?" He arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"Sneak into someone's backyard."

"This is my backyard though."

"You don't live here anymore. It doesn't count."

"Okay, then no. Have you?" Harry wetted his lips, hands on her hips as he backed her up against one of the square columns supporting the porch. She stood with her hands behind her back and her back against the wood, her face lifted as she stared into his dark green eyes.

"Nope." She shook her head, letting him lean heavily against her and bury his face into her neck.

"Another first for us," he mumbled.

She sighed and pushed him away by his shoulders, their eyes meeting again. Her eyebrows furrowed as she told him, "you're crazy."

"Yeah," he said happily. "I’m crazy for you."

Y/N didn't say anything else. She didn't ask him why or how or when or what or any other questions relating to him showing up here. She knew he couldn't stay for long, so they shouldn't waste their time together on excessive inquiries.

"Come." He stepped back and grabbed her hand. "Wanna show you something."

Bemused, she followed him toward the fence separating their two houses. The porch lights illuminated almost two-thirds of his garden, giving them a good view of the whole lawn. Right exactly where their treehouse used to stand, was now a sapling planted in a patch of soil.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed and squatted down on the grass to observe the tiny tree as he did the same, and then she looked up, blinking her inquisitive dark eyes.

"How long has it been here?"

"Last night." He crossed both arms on top of his knees. "You said no expensive gifts, so...I bought you a tree."

"From Paris?!"

The way she screwed up her face had him chortle. "No, silly, from the shop near our school. Mum helped me plant it."

"It's so cute, baby!" She clutched her heart. "I love it so much!"

"Yeah? We can build a new treehouse on it once it's fully grown."

"But we will have been sooooo old by then."

"Then we'll build it for our children."

Harry was completely unaware of what he'd blurted out until he saw the look on her face. Her forehead creased as her lashes fluttered. Oh shit, what had he done? Why would he say that?! He had literally flown across the ocean and driven four hours back here to scare off his girlfriend with his spontaneous one-sided future plan for them. What if this freaked her out? What if she hated him? What if—

"Was that a proposal?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just indirectly propose?" she softly rephrased the question, smirking as a blush crept up his face. "I think our children will love it."

"Did you just indirectly said yes?" He released a throaty laugh.

"Maybe," she said at last, her cheekbones lifted high.

That one-word answer filled him with elation as he started grinning like a Cheshire Cat and plopped down on the grass, crossing his legs. Y/N subconsciously mirrored his posture.

"I used to dream of marrying you under that tree, right here in your backyard," she admitted, even in this light, he could still see her cheeks turning pink. Maybe that was why she couldn't look him in the eye as she spoke and had to distract herself by fidgeting with a wild flower. She went on, "I remember having this long discussion with Celine about our dream weddings during one of our sleepovers in fifth grade. We both agreed to marry the love of our lives right where we first met them, and now, ten years later, her dream is finally coming true."

"What about you?" His tone was low and cautious as he hesitated, "do you...do you still want a wedding in my backyard?" It was just him indirectly asking her if she considered him as the love of her life.

"I indirectly said yes, didn't I?"

Harry's heart leaped with joy when he heard the answer. He got up on his knees, pinned her down on the grass, and kissed her mouth desirously. They didn't mind getting their clothes dirty as they were sprawling across his yard, kissing and caressing one another. The night was young and so were they. Right now it was just them and the infinite sky above. They felt so small, but at the same time, like they could conquer the world. Was this the kind of love people would write songs and books about? The kind of love that made you feel powerful and capable of anything? Harry hoped she felt the same way because now there was fire was burning underneath his skin, but it was the type of burn that left him yearning for more. He didn't want to say goodbye, even just for another week. Could he just wrap her up in a blanket and take her with him wherever he went? He couldn't prevent that selfish thought, but he kept it to himself. She would yell at him if he suggested that she let him fly her to Paris, since she didn't even let him spoil her with expensive souvenirs.

"Do you like the gift?" he asked, and she brightened.

"I love it as much as I love you."

"Wow, that's a lot."

As he pretended to be shocked, she giggled and said, "I know."

He placed a few more pecks down her neck before rolling onto his back, holding her hand. Both turned to look at each other at the same time and dissolved into laughter at the cute little coincidence.

The next question slipped out of his mouth before he could reconsider asking. "If you're unhappy, you'll tell me, right?"

"Why would I be unhappy?" She pondered and turned to the side as he did the same, facing her.

"I don't mean right now. Everyone has those days, especially you," he said and booped her nose. "But you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

He sighed in relief when she hooked her pinky to his.

Anyone would've called him mad for putting his faith in a pinky promise, but in their world, a promise, big or small, should always remain unbreakable. So he trusted his Bambi to keep her word.

"We need to get used to each other's absence," she changed the subject after a moment, glowering at him. "It's easy to travel back and forth between Paris and London, but what will happen when you go on press tours?"

"We'll figure out a way. Don't you worry."

"I don't want to trouble you."

"You could never trouble me, kid. I don't mind traveling halfway across the world to see your face."

He ran his thumb across her pouty lip, wanting to ask her what was wrong, but she went first, "are you scared of it?"

"Of what?"

"Absence."

"Well, yeah, I am," he exhaled. "All the time." It was hard to admit it, but it did feel much better to get it off his chest.

"You know," she trailed off and bit her lip as her face relaxed. "There's a saying that 'absence is to love as wind is to fire: it extinguishes the little flame, it fans the big.'"

"Are we the big flame or the little flame?"

"We could burn this whole town down," she said, her big round eyes twinkled like stars.

Harry spread his arms and Y/N automatically shifted in to rest her head on his chest. The night air cooled their skin as soft breezes blew through their hair and clothes. His limbs gradually went numb and he was almost paralyzed from his neck down, but in a good and soothing way. He felt like he was floating and only felt like this when he was home.

"What did you get me the other day?" Her voice was clear and soft.

He looked down, beaming at her face. "Why don't you guess?"

"Shoes?"

"Christian Louboutin."

"Cheeky bastard," she snorted. "Have you returned them?"

"No, I keep them in case you change your mind. They're in my car actually."

When she narrowed her eyes, he expected a grumble, but then she gave him a shrug and said, "fine, I'll wear them to the wedding."

"That's my girl!" He pulled her right in by the arm and showered her face with kisses until she pushed him away, breathless from laughing so much. Y/N flipped onto her stomach, resting her cheek on her knuckles as she smiled down at him and he stroked her face tenderly.

"Don't forget to tell the wedding guests your rich boyfriend got you those shoes," he said.

"Oh, you mean my sugar daddy?" The corner of her eyes crinkled. "How about I tell them I met this eighty-year-old man and became his sex slave so he could pay my rent?"

"Sounds like a cool guy. What's his name?"

"Howard Stein."

"Oh God." He tossed his head back and cackled. "Imagine saying that name during sex."

"Oh, fuck me harder, Howard!" she moaned loudly, and they dissolved into laughter.

Only an hour ago it was pitch dark, but now the mist was visible, luminous. Harry knew it was time for him to go. They climbed over the fence and headed back to his car parked on her driveway. They kissed goodbye and held each other for a bit longer to make up for the lost time. He didn't forget to give her the nude Christian Louboutin pumps he'd bought in Paris. She could say she hated them but the glow in her eyes gave herself away. He was more than satisfied with that reaction.

With one last goodbye and a kiss on the cheek, he got in his car and drove away. As exciting as the journey last night had been, the one from his hometown back to London was almost depressing. The sky was cloudy and grey, probably sympathizing with what he was feeling right now. Tall buildings emerged from the mist as the city became closer. It didn't take too long for him to arrive at the airport.

Paris welcomed him back with sunlight and a clear sky, but also a crowd of fans and paparazzi waiting outside his hotel. He stopped to give a few photographs and took some photos with fans, trying his best to ignore rude questions shouted at him, such as "where did you spend the night?" and "were you with your new girlfriend?" and even worse, "did you stay with Ruby last night?"

He turned a deaf ear to them all and said goodbye to the ones who actually loved him. It was almost noon when he got to his room and shrugged off his jacket. He collapsed on the bed, arms and legs spread, thoroughly whacked out, but he couldn't fall asleep without texting Bambi.

⌲ Just got back to the hotel.

⌲ Bambi: Get some rest. You have to be on set in the afternoon, right?

⌲ Right. Fuck me.

⌲ Bambi: Later.

⌲ Gosh, you're dirty.

⌲ That's my girl.

Harry's smile slipped when an Instagram notification popped up on the top of his screen. He quickly tapped on it to open Isaac's latest post, which was a beautiful photo of the silvery skyline at dawn, probably taken that same morning. The caption said "Holmes Chapel", and both Y/N and Celine had liked the photo.

[jungkookiebus]

Chemistry | knj

This is part of the BSC 1st Anniversary Drabble Request Exchange!!

Scenario: hybrid au + Namjoon + hybrid him and hybrid reader go to a school for hybrids, they’re vice president and president and maybe they both have a crush on the other but dont know about the other’s crush (some jealousy would be cool 🥰 thanksss 💜) Word count: 3.6k Pairing: hybrid!Namjoon x hybrid!reader Warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe!), little bit of ol’ dirty talk

You pulled the poster down angrily as your tail twitched furiously behind you. Ears laid flat, you stood, fuming, in the middle of the hallway.

“____?” Haeun asked, nervously. “Everything okay?”

“Absolutely not.”

Haeun, being a bunny hybrid, was timid in comparison to your feline attitude. You were the only panther hybrid in your school, and everyone was afraid of you. You weren’t sure why, but that was just how the gavel fell. Haeun had been your friend since childhood, enduring the hardships of being hybrids together. Even now, hybrids were segregated to their own schools.

You were currently in the running for senior class president with your arch enemy, Namjoon, a wolf hybrid. You had been at odds for years, vying to be on top of your class and each time he seemed to get the best of you, even though you were equally matched.

“Why does he feel the need to try for everything I want?!” You crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it into the nearest trashcan.

“I think he knows it gets to you,” Haeun interjected.

“Of course, he knows it gets to me. Smug jerk.”

You spotted him across the cafeteria laughing amongst the rest of the baseball team and sneered at his stupid, boyish smile. For someone so cute, he was the most annoying.

“I’m getting this.”

The next week called for a student council meeting of the current board and to establish rules and school functions promoting the election. You crossed the mostly vacant room and planted yourself in a desk closest to the windows, hoping to avoid talking to anyone. You were staring out of the window waiting for the others to arrive when you felt the downy swish of a tail brush against your arm. Before you even turned your head, you were painfully aware of who had just sat next to you.  

“_______,” his smooth voice swept across your mind like rain.

Twisting in your seat and narrowing your eyes, you flattened your ears and looked at him through pierced eyes.

“Namjoon,” you said with a snarl.

“You’re cute when you’re pissed.” You knew he was messing with you, egging you on and trying to get a rise from you.

Your ears perked back up and your tail wrapped around your midriff as you turned back towards the windows.

“Hey, come on, it was just a joke. How about we try getting along for once?”

He reached out to touch your arm and you immediately withdrew and snarled at him.

“Not likely, Namjoon.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity, but he didn’t seem deterred by your behavior.

“You don’t scare me.”

“What?”

“Everyone is afraid of you. You keep up this façade,” he said gesturing towards you, “but you’re not as scary as you look or Haeun wouldn’t be friends with you.”

“What do you know?”

“I’ve known Haeun for years and she’s not friends with just anyone.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.”

“No thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he said as he settled back into his seat, tail swishing lazily across the floor.

The rest of the weeks were pure torture as the election went on. Polls were not in your favor and you were trying your hardest to at least win something over Namjoon for once. No matter how much you smiled, talked to people, or tried your best to win them over, your numbers were not going up. Wholesome, all-around Namjoon was stealing your votes and you couldn’t understand how.

One day, you decided to approach him as he walked to his car.

“Hey, Namjoon!”

He turned in surprise at the sound of your voice and smiled widely.

“Is the pretty panther talking to me for once?”

“Cut the shit. How are you doing it?”

“Doing what?”

“Getting all of the votes.”

“Uh, well, same as you, talking to people and working events.”

“But you’re winning.”

“Look, ______,” he said with a sigh, “I’m going to break it to you, you’re not the nicest person.”

You looked at him, affronted.

“Okay, fuck you.” You turned to walk away, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and you felt the goosebumps rise on your skin.

Turning back, he was looking at you seriously.

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Forget I asked,” you said walking away. Namjoon didn’t call out, nor did he follow you.

Your forehead hit your desk with a thud as the results were announced over the intercom. Namjoon had gotten president and you had gotten vice. Yet again, Namjoon had beaten you. Haeun chewed on her bottom lip but didn’t say a word because she knew better than to try to comfort you. You were short-tempered and your feline instincts were to act in disdain and anger.

“This isn’t going to affect me,” you said as you rose from your desk.

“Wait, you’re not mad?” Haeun was quickly following behind as you made your way to first period.

“I’m fuming.”

Haeun stopped in her tracks and didn’t follow you further as you walked to chem. What sucked about all of this was that you had first period with him, and he was your lab partner. The universe was a cruel mistress when it came to your fate. You slid onto your stool next to him without a sideways glance as you dropped your bag on the floor.

“Congratulations.” His deep voice resounded in your ears.

“Same to you,” you said still looking ahead to the front of the class.

“Going to the dance this weekend?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to have casual conversation with him right now.

“Maybe I’ll see you there?”

“Maybe.”

“Absolutely not,” you said as Haeun held the black dress out to you.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s egregious.”

“You’ll make Namjoon look twice.”

You did a double take as you stared at her with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, _______,” she said flopping down on your bed, “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

You sputtered as you tried to quickly defend yourself, not making it look better.

“I do not like him. We hate each other, why would you say that?” You were pacing around your room, flailing your arms and all Haeun could do was smirk and lie back on the bed, watching you flounder.

“Look at yourself, you’re so flustered you can barely talk.”

“Okay, he’s cute, but that’s it.”

“Suit yourself, but you should really wear that dress.”

Haeun gave you a smug look as you resigned and walked to the bathroom, dress slung over your shoulder.

“I feel ridiculous,” you said as you walked into the crowded gym. You pulled at the hem of the dress, willing it to magically become longer as you slouched.

“Stand up straight, you look like a sick giraffe.” Haeun wore a cute pink dress that accented her equally cute personality. Her soft, furry ears glistened in the low lights of the gym and her nose twitched excitedly.

You stood to full height, a good foot over Haeun, and glanced around the gym. You spotted Namjoon right away with a pretty junior you recognized but couldn’t bother to remember her name. You felt a flush course through you that felt oddly like jealously, but you quickly dampened it.

“Let’s get a drink,” you said pulling Haeun along behind you.

The crowd parted as you made your way through, receiving ogling looks from both boys and girls alike.

“Told you that dress was a good idea,” you heard behind you.

“Shut up, Haeun.”

You heard her laugh as you reached the table, grabbing two cups and handing one to her.

“Prince charming is coming this way.”

Before you could turn around you heard his low voice behind you.

“Well, hello, Miss Vice President.”

His eyes raked from the tips of your toes to the tips of your ears.

“Can we help you?”

“I was just coming to say hi.” The small cat hybrid beside looked at you with disgust, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“Hello and goodbye. Looks like your date is pissed.”

Namjoon looked at the girl beside him like he had just remembered she was there. “Ah, well, enjoy your evening ladies.” Haeun nodded and raised her cup as he walked away.

“He just eye fucked you hard.”

Your drink almost came out of your nose. “God you’re crude.”

She shrugged before continuing to drink and scanned the dance floor.

“I’m gonna go see if Yoongi wants to dance,” she said setting her cup down.

“The fox hybrid? That’s, like, a natural enemy to you.”

“Oh my God, I can’t with you, bye.” And she was off before you could protest, basically hopping as he sidled up next to Yoongi.

This night couldn’t get any worse for you. You quickly dipped into the shadows of the perimeter of the gym and snuck out the doors leading to the empty corridors of your school. Why you had agreed to come to this stupid dance was beyond you, but it was expected of the class vice president after all. You ducked into the all too familiar chemistry classroom you had every first period. Sighing, you walked to your normal table, sitting down to breathe. That was when you heard the door click shut softly behind you. Hair raised, you turned in the direct of the sound only to find Namjoon looking at you curiously.

“Are you following my every move now?” you asked him, annoyance evident in your voice.

He held his hands out defensively as his ears laid back.

“Whoa, no, I was coming to check on you.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“I’m not saving you.”

You both stared each other down for a few seconds too long.

“Why are you here then?”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Like I said, I was checking on you.”

“Thanks, now you can go,” you said turning back around in the stool.

A few seconds later and you felt the ghost of his breath against your neck, causing every hair on your body to stand on end.

“You look really good in that dress,” he whispered.

You gulped audibly as his fingers ghosted up your arm and came to rest on your shoulder. You couldn’t help the shiver that ran through your body and he noticed right away.

“Am I reading the signs wrong or are just as into me as I am into you?”

Your mouth felt parched, as if you hadn’t had water in years. Was this really happening right now? You were supposed to hate Namjoon. Your hands gripped the edge of the table nervously as you laughed; the sound coming from your mouth very unconvincing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered. Your tail flicked nervously behind you, brushing against his legs.

His hand came around to cup your jaw so that he could turn your face towards him.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he said as he placed a small kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Involuntarily, your mouth fell open and he turned his head to fully envelop yours with his, tongue immediately moving against yours. He moaned as he got the first taste and he was not disappointed; the sweet, tangy flavor of the punch was still on your tongue as he flicked against it. You turned in the stool and grasped the lapels of his blazer as you pulled him closer to you, spreading your legs as much as you could in the dress and pressing him against you.

“Feisty, huh?” he laughed against your lips.

“Just shut up,” you said kissing him once more. His hand traveled the length of your thigh but stopped at the hem of your dress. Throwing all caution to the wind you spread your legs further, causing the dress to ride up as well. He squeezed your inner thigh as his lips moved to your neck, your head moved to the side to give him more area. Brushing his fingers lightly against the fabric of your panties, he sucked and bit into the skin below your ear.

“God, I want to fuck you,” he moaned.

“Then do it.”

He seemed surprised as he pulled back to look at you.

“Don’t act like there hasn’t been sexual tension between us.”

He looked at you as if to say you weren’t wrong. Maintaining eye contact and quicker than you were able to notice, he had two fingers shoved into the side of your panties and into your awaiting cunt. You had already started to get wet, but this sealed the deal as he pushed his fingers in further, watching your reaction as you gripped the table with one hand while the other was still buried in the fabric of his blazer.

“Fuck, Namjoon, warn a girl.”

“I wanted to see your face.”

“What…w-what about y-your date?” You were finding it hard to form words as he pumped his fingers in you as he lazily brushed his thumb over your clit.

“Oh, her? She’ll be okay.”

Only the after hour emergency lights lit the room and Namjoon loved the way he could see your face half-shrouded in darkness, almost as if he were watching a noir film play out in front of him. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and casted soft shadows.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said as his lips brushed along your cheekbone.

Your ears twitched in embarrassment as your tail came up to wrap around your waist. His other hand grabbed it softly and pushed it away as you relaxed.

“Don’t be so tense.”

You sighed as his lips came to yours, fingers still working you open slowly. His lips were gentle, soft against yours and you wanted to fall into the feeling forever. In the back of your mind you wondered why you hadn’t given in to this type of pleasure sooner.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered.

Your eyes rolled back, and your cunt clenched down around his fingers as he asked you the question.

“I don’t care,” you said breathlessly.

“Oh, come on,” he tutted, “use your words.”

He curled his fingers upwards against your g-spot and you gasped loudly; the sound seemed to echo in the empty room. Your palms began to sweat as you grasped at the slick surface of the lab table, thighs quivering, and your feet slipped off the rung of the stool.

“I want you to bend me over this table so that every time we have class, I think about it.”

Namjoon groaned and you felt his cock, hard in his pants, brush past your knee.

“Fuck, if I knew you had such a dirty mouth on you, I would have tried to fuck you sooner.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, grabbed your wrist, and jerked you upwards into a standing position. His lips were on yours once more as he pulled your tight dress up past your hips as you shimmied your underwear off yourself. You fumbled with his belt for a few seconds before you were pushing his pants down.

“Wow, no underwear?” you asked as his cock sprung free immediately.

“Didn’t feel the need,” he purred.

You grabbed his cock in your hand and reveled in the growl burning at the back of his throat. Just as languid as he, you worked your hand over his cock until he pushed into you. His hand came up to your throat as kissed you in a rush, tongue exploring as he pushed you against the lab table.

“Turn around,” he demanded while grabbing your hips, helping you along.

He pushed, hard, into the middle of your back, forcing your upper half onto the table as he spread your legs for a wider stance. Holding the base of his cock, he rubbed it between your folds, gathering the wetness that was now threatening to drip down your thighs. You moaned at the feeling of him rubbing against you and you wiggled your ass to hurry him up.

“I can’t wait to be inside of this pretty pussy,” he said bending over you, hand on the table beside your head, and slowly thrusting against you. “You know how many times I’ve thought of taking you in various places around school?”

Every inch of your skin was aflame as if a fire had been lit from within. A mix of embarrassment and arousal rushed through you like a wave; he was being so open with you and you weren’t sure how to respond.

“Dogs aren’t supposed to like cats,” you said looking at him through your peripheral.

He laughed as he bent down some more, nose in your hair, sniffing lightly before rubbing his face against yours.

“Well, I like this particular kitten.”

You both groaned in unison as he entered you. The stretch was far from uncomfortable; this was the best you had felt in ages. His hand was still planted firmly on the table as he began to fuck you with purpose. You felt his tail twitch and brush against your calves at each thrust. His face was in your hair once more, inhaling deeply as he moaned.

“You smell so fucking good. I’ve always wanted to be this close to you. Did you know you give off the most intoxicating pheromones?” His thrusts slowed but hit deep. Your eyes rolled back as he brushed against your g-spot.

Your hands slid across the smooth tabletop as you tried to hold yourself; your palms leaving sweaty prints in their wake. Namjoon lifted your right leg up behind your knee to deepen his already dangerous thrusts; it was almost like he had known your body forever.

“I need you to fuck me harder,” you begged.

Namjoon looked around him and to one of the lower tables that was wheelchair accessible.

“Move,” he demanded as he slipped out of you and pushed you towards the table. He guided you to lay flat on your back, legs hanging from the table. He positioned himself between your legs, grabbed your ankles and pushed until the heels of your feet were on the edge. He wasted no time before he was sliding back inside of you once more, hands back on your ankles as he pulled your legs to his shoulders. You cried out as he thrust faster, balls slapping against you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked through gritted teeth.

You tried to grab onto something, anything, but all you were hitting was a discarded textbook and the knobs of the built-in sink.

“Fuck.” You felt as if you were gasping for air, your body trying desperately to keep up with what was happening.

“Touch yourself.”

You popped three fingers into your mouth before bringing them down to your clit and rubbed fast circles. Your back arched off the cool tabletop as he gripped tighter to your legs and buried his cock as far as it could go.

“I’m gonna come.” You were practically in tears. Namjoon was watching you in such sharp focus that everything else around him seemed to fall away. In that moment, neither of you were enemies nor being two different species of hybrid mattered. Your ears were flat against your dark hair and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You clenched down hard around him as you came, mouth falling open and then closed again as you ground your teeth together to stay quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm and slowly pulled out of you.

“Look at that, you creamed all over my cock, baby,” he said as he started to pump himself, using your cum as lube.

You sat up on your elbows to witness the mess you had made before looking at Namjoon who was completely fucked out and fucking himself into this own hand. You reached forward, grabbed him behind his head and brought his mouth down to yours in a hard kiss that was less methodical and more chaos. Your post orgasm high had you moaning into the kiss as Namjoon’s hand worked over himself faster and faster. Images of you coming around him spurred his orgasm to a quick peak as he came, hot, on your cunt and thighs. His moans came out almost as a deep growl as his cum leaked down your skin and he backed up; steps almost faltering.

“Fuck,” he laughed. “I never thought this would happen.”

You sat up, reaching into a drawer on the table that you knew held paper towels. “Yea, well, neither did I.”

Namjoon grabbed the roll from you, pulling several off before wiping you down.

“So where do we go from here?” he asked.

“Back to the gym?”

He laughed once more as he gathered your belongings. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, back to being mortal enemies I guess.” You pulled your underwear back on as he did up his belt.

“_______,” he said, exasperated, “I’m being serious.”

“I like you, okay? As much as I hate to fucking admit it, I like you.” A triumphant grin spread across his face at your admission. “But I’m not jumping into this.”

“Uh…I don’t know what you call this,” he said gesturing between the both of you, “but I think we already did.”

“Relationship wise, you goose.”

“You know, I’ve never met a goose hybrid.”

You slapped his shoulder as you pushed your way past him and to the door. You pulled it open and turned to look at him, hand grasping the wood. You made direct eye contact with him and then looked over towards the table before looking at him once more.

“See you in chemistry on Monday?” you asked rhetorically as you walked out, leaving a smiling Namjoon behind.

[stories-from-a-gaming-addict]

The Last of Us part 2 (Spoiler heavy) review

Man oh man, where to even begin with this one. This is gonna be a long one.

The Last of Us (part 1) is one of my absolute favorite games of all time. I recommend it to everyone and anyone who ever asks me for a story driven game that makes you feel. I’ve played the first part probably 4 or 5 times, and still find myself crying by the end. The announcement “trailer” they showed at PlayStation Experience in 2016 gave me chills. I even tried to order the almost $300 Ellie edition (It was sold out, so I settled with the collectors edition instead). 

I put the game in my PS4 thinking about traveling to Seattle (my hometown) with Joel and how excited I was to see their interactions along the way (silly me). I managed to avoid all the leaks and spoilers so I did not know anything this game had in store for me. 

As sad as I was to see that Ellie and Joel’s relationship had obviously become  strained since the end of the first game, the first time I cried was obviously the most shocking part for me. As I watched Abby bashing Joel with a golf club, tears streaming down my face, I waited for Ellie to swoop in and save the day. Only that didn’t happen. Instead the screen cuts to a headstone with Joel’s name on it and I had to turn the game off. Oooh man, I was absolutely heartbroken and angry as hell. I have never wanted to kill a video game character the way I wanted to hunt down Abby in that moment. Revenge on a video game character was what motivated me to turn the game back on. But then we watched Ellie kill Nora... then Owen... and Mel... each time you can see the emotional toll this is having on Ellie.. Watching Ellie deal with her PTSD was just as traumatic as watching Joel die at the hands of Abby. 

Then, the game switches to Abby’s point of view and I did NOT like it. I was so mad that this game was making me play as Abby that I basically did a speed run of her part (which I regret now). After rushing through Abby’s section, I came across the second part to make me cry. The Ellie boss fight. This game was making me play as the hated Abby against my beloved Ellie. I turned the game off a second time, never having felt this betrayed by a video game before in my life. I kept thinking how could they make us fight against Ellie? But my feelings of revenge were still strong, so I turned the game back on and sobbed while I snuck up on Ellie from behind. 

Finally, we make it to the farmhouse and after a lot of thinking, I decide that this is what I want. Forget Abby, I just want Ellie heal from her deep psychological turmoil and live as happy a life she can with Dina and the baby. My heart hurts to see she’s still having nightmares and flashbacks, but at least she can focus on healing now... right? Only Tommy shows up with information on where Abby is and gets angry when Ellie and Dine tell him no. I was so sad.. Could Tommy not see how much she’s hurting and going through? So Ellie decides to go to California, where it’s believed Abby is living. I was surprised to find myself sad that Ellie was going. I reluctantly move Ellie through the section of the game thinking about what I wanted to happen. I wasn’t so sure I wanted Ellie to kill Abby anymore.. Did I change my mind about wanting to get revenge on Abby? Finally we come to the part I’ve been waiting for. My motivation throughout this whole game. My chance to get revenge on Abby. Only it hurts. It feels wrong. Why am I crying? After the saddest fight I have ever seen, Ellie lets Abby go, seemingly giving up in the water. I was surprised to find myself relieved. The game ends with Ellie going back to the farmhouse only to find it empty. She picks up the guitar but can no longer play because of the fingers she lost during her fight. Ellie lost so much during the course of this game.. and was it worth it in the end? 

After finally finishing the game, I was emotionally exhausted. This game was brutal on my emotions and I didn’t feel like picking up any video game for a little while. I just needed to think about what I’d just played. I have NEVER played a game that affected me as much as this game has. And the most amazing part to me is that this is exactly what Naughty Dog wanted. They created a character and situation (Abby) that made the players so thoroughly hate this character, and then forces us to look at it from another perspective. Forces us to really think... do any of these characters actually deserve any of this? They make us hate but then they make us rethink everything. This game is truly amazing. For all the emotional toil and heartbreaking story (The rocket scene is arguably maybe the only happy scene in this entire game) this game succeeds in every way. Neil Druckmann is truly an amazing storyteller and I am so glad I was able to experience this. 

[valor-selfships]

little villa in sicily ch 2 - jjba sorlato babyfic

Ao3 Link -- Tag on my Blog (read the rest here!)

Summary: "Gelato..." Sorbet says. His voice hovers just above a whispering tone. "Oh my God. I could've lost both of you."

"And I could've lost you," Gelato says back. He's not a man to cry, never has been, but damn is he on the verge right now. His eyes burn, and he blinks to clear them. "Even -- even if they hadn't killed me, too, I could've lost you. And I swear, I swear to God I had no idea that I was -- that I might be --"

It's still hard for him to say it out loud.

After narrowly escaping their own deaths and finding out something shocking, Gelato and Sorbet do the only rational thing: they up and run off. Too bad Risotto Nero has incredibly strong paternal instincts, and Pesci can't keep a secret.

Notes: because there’s not enough sorlato in the world and i have yet to find a single fic of them with a baby, biological, adopted, or otherwise???? like officially, at least. there’s plenty of “team as family” but i haven’t seen any where they’re officially adopted soooo. have this. and yes, title is a play on “little house on the prairie.”

Wanna know more about this AU? Boom! Click this link.

There will be a mildly detailed birth scene later in the fic, so if that bothers you, feel free to not read.

I'm a trans guy myself! No hate comments.

Chapter Two - And I Would Walk 500 Miles...

A little under two weeks ago, Italy, 2000. La Squadra headquarters.

"You've gotta be shitting us. You're shitting us, Pesci. There's no way it was that easy." Formaggio's shocked voice rings out through the for-once completely silent headquarters. "You're tellin' me that Sorbet just... straight up texted you his location?"

Although his voice is far more shocked than accusatory, Prosciutto shoots the other man a withering glare from across the room should he dare change his tone. Formaggio pretends not to notice him despite the obvious shudder he gives.

Pesci, on the other hand, looks nervous, but what else is new? Even so, they all have to admit that it's a little bit different this time. For months, they've been searching for their missing comrades on and off with no success. And then, suddenly, out of the blue, Pesci gets a text from Sorbet's number with an address in Sicily?

"This feels like a trap," Ghiaccio squints from where he sits on the couch. From next to him, Illuso nods.

"You two do have a point, but if they were trying to bait any of us, why would it be Pesci?" Melone points out. "It's not like he's the leader, or even close to it. It'd make more sense to send it to Prosciutto, or Risotto himself."

"He's still a member of the team," Prosciutto growls. "Regardless of whether or not you personally think he's important or worth being here, him being a part of the team means that they could still use him to get to us."

"Well, uh, I'm pretty sure it was Sorbet, though," Pesci says. He sounds uncertain, and Prosciutto presses his finger to his nose.

"You're pretty sure, or sure? We don't have time for pretty sure, here," Prosciutto says. Though his voice is undoubtedly irritated, it lacks the same type of venom he uses with everyone else. "You need to be absolutely positive before we make any moves."

Pesci gulps, and then nods rapidly. "N-no, no, I'm sure it was him. I got another text right after, it looked like he'd sent it real fast 'cause there was a ton of misspelled words." Ready to show them the proof, he pulls out his little phone and opens up the text he got from Sorbet's number. "He was begging me not to tell anybody about the address, but I couldn't keep it quiet. I-I didn't wanna make anybody mad -"

Finally, Risotto holds up a hand to stop Pesci and announce he needs to speak himself. "That wouldn't have been possible, given the circumstances. Either you would have kept lying to us, or you would have had to reveal what Sorbet sent you. But you chose the best choice." He narrows his eyes a little. "I am not sure what drove them all the way to Sicily. I have... a small theory. But it may not be true. So there is no reason to voice it right now." His tone signals that he's not willing to continue discussing it at the moment, so the rest of the team decides not to pry. "But... as I said, this is the best outcome. Now that we know for sure where they are located... we can finally find them and ensure their safety."

"And, preferably, figure out why they fled in the first place," Prosciutto adds. "If it was something involving gang business, they should've told us. We shouldn't let them off the hook, Risotto."

Risotto presses his lips together and shakes his head. "I never said I would. But what I ultimately decide to do... will depend on whether or not my hunch is correct."

Somewhere in the Sicilian countryside, about a week ago, 2000. In a little villa.

"What're you doing up and on your feet, mio caro? You should be resting."

Gelato looks over his shoulder from where he stands in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge. Drat. He could've sworn Sorbet was still asleep when he'd snuck out of bed, but then again, given how heavy on his feet he is these days, he supposes it wouldn't be all that surprising if he did wake him after all and simply didn't notice.

"Just getting a snack," Gelato sighs. "Honestly, tesoro, you worry far too much. The baby isn't due for another week."

Sorbet steps up next to Gelato, puts his arms around his waist so he can rest his hands on his belly. "I know. But you do need to try to stay off of your feet. There's always the chance she could come a little early."

Gelato snorts. "I'd be lucky if that were the case. Then I might finally be able to get some sleep... decent sleep, at least." As if proving his point, he yawns and stretches, closing the doors to the fridge. He doesn't move his feet, though, just rests his hands on top of his husband's and leans into his touch. It's warm, and secure, for the moment.

Suddenly, he lifts his head a little, like a dog on alert. "Car. Pulling up outside," Gelato says under his breath. Sorbet stiffens, carefully stepping away from him and towards the front door. "Sorbet -"

"Just stay right there," Sorbet tells him. There's no hint of fear or wavering in his voice; instead, he sounds strong and steady, a real change from only a few months back. He's completely determined not to let anything put his family in jeopardy again, no matter what that is. Even though his mind is racing through the worst case scenarios right off the bat, he doesn't let it show on his face as he puts his hand on the doorknob, unlocks the door --

"YYOOOOUUUU ASSHOLES!"

As soon as he unlocks the door, it swings open and nearly smacks him square in the face. Luckily, his upcoming fatherhood hasn't dulled his reflexes, and Sorbet leaps back out of the way of the door...

Only to then get body slammed by a small, very cold, blue-and-white blur. A very familiar small, very cold, blue-and-white blur.

Despite the fact that he's now lying flat on the floor, Sorbet allows himself to relax for the first time in several months, a laugh leaving his lips all on its own. "It's nice to see you again, Ghiaccio."

"Eat shit!" Ghiaccio frowns down at his target, then stands up and brushes himself off. As expected, the rest of the team files in after him, apparently satisfied that there's no danger based on what's going on. Even so, Ghiaccio isn't done, and he keeps right on talking even as Risotto parts from the group and goes around Sorbet. "You two scared the hell out of us, what the fuck, man?! If you wanted to leave or whatever, you could've at least told us! They say to "forgive and forget" or whatever, but I for one -"

"I was right, after all."

Despite not being nearly as loud as Ghiaccio, the deep rumble of Risotto's voice resonates through the room. He's standing in front of the couch, looking down at the person sitting on it. Immediately, all of the team's eyes are on their leader first, then they look towards who he's looking at.

Gelato looks rather unimpressed with the whole situation as he uses the fork he's holding to grab a chunk of the chocolate cake he's got on his plate and shove it in his mouth. At first, what he's referencing isn't obvious to the team, until he speaks again.

"You must be due any day now, am I right?"

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it gets in the room.

And then, as per usual, the silence is shattered by Ghiaccio screeching out: "He's pregnant?!"

Gelato chooses to ignore him, and the resulting echoes of "what" and "oh my God" in favor of answering Risotto. "Yeah. I'm supposed to have a week left, so they say."

"Mmm... wouldn't bet on that," Risotto says. "Don't take my word for it, it's just a feeling. Either way, I hope you don't mind if we stay here for a while. We haven't gotten a hotel."

Gelato gives a little sigh. "Do you want me to be honest?" Risotto nods, and Gelato looks around at all of the sudden new house guests. "Stay as long as you'd like, as long as you can distract Sorbet from me for a little while."

The argument that ensues only goes to prove that, while you may be able to put distance between yourself and your family, some things never change.

[etjwrites]

OC Backstory Week 2 - Friends

Who were your OC’s friends, when they were young? Was it a group or a single individual?

 Write any short drabble about an important past friendship.

@yourocsbackstory

Aaaand we're back from commercial! Hopefully our lovely hosts have picked a safer topic for us to explore.

(No I'm not trying to be insulting, it's not my fault TCBNN didn't pre-screen their questions. Fine, I'll behave.)

Who were my friends growing up? Same as any kit's: my schoolmates – yes, we have school in the Hinnom Forest – my fellow Igis Chosen, my dad's friends' kits, but the two people I ended up sticking with the most were Kenton and Seri.

Yeah, I know in the previous story I said I hated him – I was what, six? by the way you humans reckon years, and we're obviously friends now – how we got to be so is a story for another day, but for now I'm gonna tell you about the time the three of us got in big trouble with the Innah, Auntie Praha, and the rest of the council. We were all around ten or eleven and bored to death of being cooped up inside for hours on account of it being Frix season. . .

“I'm bored!” Bo announced, throwing down the ball of spinner-floss he'd been batting about.

“Nyss said as much when he dropped you off earlier,” Seri said. She didn't look up from the game she was playing with Ken. 'Chess,' he called it, and had been trying to get Bo to play for the longest time. But the ugly carved pieces and the game's overly complicated rules were all too. . . human, for Bo's  tastes.

“I'm not bored.”

“Yeah, 'cause you keep winning,” Seri muttered as she moved another piece, scowling and lashing her tail when Ken plucked it from the square wooden board and added it to his ever growing collection.

Bo pointed an accusing finger at her. “So you admit it! You don't wanna play Ken's silly game either.”

“Well Ken doesn't like playing 'humans and klia'ans,' and there's nothing else to do.”

“Wrong.” Bo grinned at Ken and Seri. “We can hunt frix sprites!”

“Outside? In that storm?” Seri's eyes went wide and Ken shook his head. “We'll get in trouble; I don't want to spend hours doing chores 'cause we left the loft when Mother said not to.”

“We won't be out long enough for her to notice we're gone,” Bo said, and turned pleading eyes on Ken. “All the stories say if we catch one, we'll be frix proof like Hinnom Trees.”

“No one's ever seen one in real life.”

Bo shifted into s'hinoian form and growled at Ken, glossy black fur shining in the light cast by the frix dancing on the leaves outside the loft's window. “Then we'll be the first.”

Ken and Seri shot searching looks towards the spinner-floss curtain separating their room from the Innah's.

“I am curious to see what a frix sprite looks like,” Ken admitted and started gathering up his chess pieces.

“But Mother–”

“We won't go far from the tree,” Ken said, interrupting his adopted sister's protests. “If we don't see a sprite within a few minutes, we'll come right back, okay?”

Seri chewed on her bottom lip, but nodded and grabbed some frix proof jackets for herself and Ken. Bo shifted and shrugged on his own, along with the gloves Zha'ar had given him for his birthday before second frix, and quietly they snuck out of the loft and descended the Tree of Elders.  

“All I see is frix sparks,” Seri said, crossing her arms tightly. “Can we go back now?”

“You scared?” Bo teased, giggling when she bared her fangs at him, pinning her ears flat against her head.

“I just don't want to get in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, we heard you the first time.” Bo had to admit that Seri was right, however. The thick canopy of the Hinnom Forest caught a good amount of frix and rain before the crackling mix ever hit the forest floor, but the heat rising from the muddy ground turned into a thick steam, and Bo couldn't even see the loft of the next tree over.

“We're not gonna find frix sprites just standing around,” he said, striking off into the forest and ignoring Ken and Seri's cries of alarm. “C'mon.”

“Not far from the tree, that was the deal,” Ken said, catching Bo's arm.

“We can still see it!”

Just then, lightning cracked across the sky, and Bo couldn't help himself, he jumped, shifting in midair and landing on all fours. The log he landed on pitched beneath him, sending him tumbling down the banks of a slippery hill. Ken fell with him, having lost his balance when Bo suddenly changed forms, and Seri had been just startled as Bo, resulting in all three of them sprawled in a heap at the bottom of a steep gully.

“My jacket!” Ken cried in dismay, looking at where it had torn in three places. The flashing frix showed his normally pale face had turned an almost mushroom white. “The Innah's going to be so mad at me.”

“I don't care if there are frix sprites out here,” Seri said, starting to cry, “I want to go home and not be wet and muddy and gross.”

“Fine,” Bo said, trying to pretend he wasn't bothered by their sudden fall. “Doubt there's any down here anyway.”

Seri jumped towards the top of the gully, but it was too high and she slipped back down with a squelching thud. Bo tried next, but failed just as miserably.

“Stand on my shoulders,” Ken suggested, and stood with his back to the bank. But Bo was only able to claw his way a paw's length over the edge before sliding back, jacket smeared with leaves and slimy wet dirt and worm casts.

“I can't do it,” he said, and Seri started sobbing in earnest, great wailing gulps which had Bo flinching and Ken putting an arm around her.

“What if no one notices we're gone 'til it's too late?” she said between sobs. “We'll all die out here, 'cause you couldn't, couldn't be happy playing chess in the loft.”

Bo shrugged, huddling under his jacket when the wind shifted and blew stinging frix into his face. “Least I'll get to see P'rraa again.”

Seri cried harder at that, inconsolable no matter how much Ken – badly – purred at her and tried to convince her that someone would notice them missing and come looking.

“Sorry,” Bo muttered, trembling a little at the thought of being trapped out in the frix until it finally wore through his jacket and gloves and then through his fur and skin. He suddenly wanted to cry himself.

“Hey!” he shouted instead. “Somebody, help! Help us! Help, we're stuck, hey, hey, help!”

Ken started yelling as well, and they screamed until their voices went hoarse. But nobody came, and Seri kept crying and Ken joined in, and Bo couldn't stop the tears that trickled through his fur.

They really would die, alone in the wet and mud and frix, all because he'd been bored. Stupid frix sprites. Why couldn't they come out between frix seasons, when the air wouldn't be so steamy and prickly, nor the ground so slick? Bo imagined it, the three of them getting hungrier and hungrier until they wasted away, nothing but their bones left by the time his brothers and the Innah found them.

“I'm sorry!” he wailed, clutching at Ken and Seri. “I just wanted to see the frix sprites, I didn't mean to get us killed.”

“Over here, I hear them!” a voice called, and Bo jolted upright. That sounded like Nyss. Seri was still sniffling loudly, but he could make out the sounds of tramping boots and bodies moving through the frix. The noises grew louder, and moments later his brothers, the Innah, and Auntie Praha all appeared at the top of the too-tall embankment.

Nyss began to growl at Bo, but the Innah stopped him with an upraised hand.

“I know Bo greatly frightened you, dear child, but there will be time enough for reprimands later. Besides, I think this little misadventure has taught him and Ken and Seri quite enough about the dangers of wandering heedlessly about during second frix. Let us see the little ones home safe, and be glad there is nothing worse hurt than feelings.”

Nyss ducked his head respectfully at the Innah's words, and though Bo sensed his big brother was still awfully cross with him, he couldn't help clinging to him once he'd been lifted out of the gully, shifting and burying his whole face in Nyss' arms, kit-like. Ken and Seri likewise clung to the Innah, who ushered the entire group back to the village where all three of them were bundled into blankets and their wet things laid by the fire.

“You know,” Bo whispered to Ken after Seri had fallen asleep to the comforting murmuring of the adults in the next room, the fur under her eyes matted from all the crying she'd done, “maybe I will try chess after all.”

In hindsight, the whole thing is absolutely hilarious, as we only ever made it about fifty feet past the village outskirts.

But long story short, we had to do double chores for a full month after that, and we still got up to all kinds of mischief 'til we got old enough for Igis. Mostly prompted by me, I'll admit. But we never played outside in second frix again.

Oh, and I'm now Tribe Osinan's Chessmaster, match me if you dare.

@igotablankpage @musicofglassandwords @whatsanwritepocalae @elaynab-writing @sheabutterskyes​

00 - Intro || 01 - Family || 03 - Rivals || 04 - Skills || 05 - Loss || 06 - Home || 07 - Free/Secrets

[rubyredsparks]

Blossoming Souls Ch. 16

Relationship(s): Romantic Logince, Moxiety; Platonic every other relationship

“Tags” for the whole story: morally grey!deceit, Deceit, Remus, Thomas as a character, Romance, Minor violence, someone’s potty mouth, Foul language, Minor homophobia (it’s not that bad), Miscommunication (this one is though), Friendship

Chapter Summary: The end of the beginning

Thomas couldn’t believe his son was here in the flesh. The son that he lost thirteen years ago. The son that he thought was dead was here, standing in front of him.

“Remus- Remus, is it really you?”

“Ah, ah, ah, daddy dearest, it’s Captain Amaryllis Hollyhock now.” Remus gave him a sweeping bow, mocking smile playing on his lips. “Captain of the Wormwood Cabbage, at your service.”

Thomas was in total shock that his only thought was, “Cabbage?”

Remus shrugged, “Inside joke. Don’t get me off topic! I’m here to kill you!” He laughed gleefully, taking out a knife from a scabbard that Thomas did not want to know where it came from.

All hope that he could have his son back peacefully died when Remus stabbed the knife at the air in front of him. “Why?”

“Because Daddy Dearest, you ruined my life!” Remus said with a manic smile, and Thomas absolutely refused to acknowledge the pirate name. “There I was, an ickle ten year, bright eyed and bushy tailed, getting ready for the banquet and festival and tourney, absolutely ready to join in some swash buckling and swords flying.

“But you said no, that I was too young to participate. Took away my sword, the thing that I spent so long saving up for.” He growled, the dagger getting dangerously closer to Thomas’ face as he stepped back, hitting his desk.

“So I snuck out! No one noticed, or no one was supposed to. Imagine my surprise when Papa found me, taking me back by ear. Boy, was he mad! But guess who found us?” Remus looked expectantly at him, eyes gleaming red.

Thomas didn’t know if he was supposed to answer. He didn’t remember any of this happening. He never got word about this. Virgil told him that the two got kidnapped by pirates.

“Guess!” Remus shrieked, dagger catching on his cheek, blood trickling down. “Oops,” he giggled. “My bad, well if you won’t guess, then I’ll just tell you, though it isn’t as fun.”

Remus licked the blood from the dagger, eyes glazing over thoughtfully. And Thomas took his time to fully examine his son that he hadn’t seen in over thirteen years.

His son was taller now, a man’s build that he only felt like he remembered was a young boy the other day. He supposed it was just the other that he thought Remus was a child. Now his son was twenty three, barely half an inch taller than him and threatening him with a knife.

Times changed.

Remus was wearing a green long sleeved tunic, belt tied around his waist with what looked like an octopus as its buckle. His trousers were blue or black, Thomas couldn’t really tell at this angle, white strings keeping it up.

He was tanner than Roman, clearly being out in the sun more. And Thomas had to take a metaphorical step back as he remembered that his son had probably been turned into a pirate. It made his stomach turn in guilt.

Remus’ hair was shorn short on his left side, longer hair growing out to the side that it nearly covered his eyes as he flicked it to the side. Curiously, Thomas noticed the grey streak prominent in the middle of his hair, heart clenching when he thought about what must have happened for that to get there. He even had a scruff of a beard, something akin to peach fuzz around his mouth.

“-- And so I told him that the A and H stand for Asshole. So he could stick his concerns up my asshole for all I cared. I was going to conquer the nine seas if his life depended on it, so I stabbed him.” Remus ended his tangent with a little shrug, picking the undersides of his nails with the dagger.

“That was…” Thomas swallowed, “graphic.”

Remus’ eyes lit up, more brown than the red it was before, “If you want, I can tell you something really wild. Now, no spoilers but it involved an octopus and several men and one sword.”

Thomas really didn’t want to know that story. He opened his mouth to say something before he felt his knees buckling, staggering to lean his weight on the desk behind him.

“That must be the poison!” Remus said cheerfully. “Though it worked slower than I was promised,” he pouted. “I’ll have to kill the merchant. Shame, he had such a handsome dick.”

“Don't you mean face?” Thomas asked, face paling. Please mean face, he prayed. He really did not want to hear about his son’s exploits.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I suppose. But his dick. I mean that cock was just-!”

“Please,” Thomas said, clamping his both of his ears with his hands as the blood drained from his face, “do not finish that sentence.”

“Spoilsport,” Remus’ pout deepened. “You’re the killjoy I remember you being, Daddy dearest. Ah well, you’re about to die anyway.”

“If the dagger’s been poisoned shouldn’t you be dying as well?”

“What a fun question!” Remus’ eyes lit up. “Of course not, I’ve built up quite an intolerance to poisons in all these years that I’ve been gone, Daddy!”

“What happened to Papa?”

The good mood in Remus’ eyes vanished. “Died protecting me from the pirates I now lead. Oh, papa, at least you tried. Unlike you.”

Thomas’ stomach left him as all hope vanished. With Remus standing in front of him, he could delude himself into thinking J- his husband was still alive. But all of that disappeared by the hard look Remus gave him. He couldn’t hold his weight anymore, sliding to the floor.

Remus leaned over him, mouth near his ear. “Enjoy hell, daddy. I’ll enjoy ruining your kingdom.”

The door slammed open, and Remus tore himself away from Thomas, hand outstretched after throwing a knife. It made a thud against the frame, Roman peeking out from behind the door.

“Darn, that was my last knife,” Remus whigned, stamping his foot slightly. “Guess, I’ll have to make do with swords instead.”

He pulled out a sword from somewhere again that Thomas definitely didn’t want to know came from, and swung it in his hand lazily as he waited. Thomas wondered how it could be Roman when he distinctly remember that Roman was at the tourney.

The door opened wide, Roman holding his sword at the ready, still decked out in his armour, face furious. Thomas couldn’t see his face as he stepped closer, obscured by Remus stepping in front of him.

Roman stalked forward as his eyes settled on Remus and his grip faltered. “Rem-rem?”

“Hello~ Ro-ro!” Remus sang, swinging his sword jauntily.

“You’re a pirate?” Roman said in disbelief, taking in his attire and figuring out much quicker than Thomas did. “Why would you be a pirate? Pirates ruined our lives. They took you and Papa away from us!”

“No, they saved my life!” Remus threw back. “Papa died, saving me, and I became a pirate for him.”

“That’s a bit of flawed logic,” Roman scoffed.

“Oh suck a dick,” Remus growled. “Daddy dearest over there ruined our lives. He let Papa die!”

“Father did no such thing!” Roman yelled, sword arm swinging. “He searched for the both of you for years! He mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

“Well, I’m alive! So stick a finger up your asshole!”

Distantly, he noticed that Remus had stalked forward enough that Roman was able to crowd him away from Thomas and more toward the window he came in. He heard quiet footsteps, “Hello, your Majesty.” Logan said, hushed. “It’s me, Logan. Help is on the way.”

Thomas grabbed Logan’s hand in gratitude. He wondered if the dizziness he was feeling was the poison making its way into his heart. Poisoned twice in a row. Virgil was not going to be pleased.

“Don’t think I don’t see your boy toy, Ro-ro,” Remus taunted, and Thomas’ grip on Logan’s hand tightened.

“Don’t call him that,” Roman gritted out, his hand a flurry as his rage got more intense.

“What is he then?” Remus pointed out, stabbing toward Roman. “He’s your Intended. Daddy announced it at the ball. Your Destined as they call it in Aowhea.” Remus chanced a sly look at Logan, and Thomas could see the fury in Logan’s eyes. “Or is he just another toy you’re stringing along. You’ve got a listful of them after all.”

“You’ve kept track?” Roman asked, spinning to dodge an attack.

Remus tensed, stabbing forward mercilessly quick again. “NO!”

“You did, baby brother, you do care!” Roman laughed in delight, neatly dodging Remus’ furious attacks.

“Stop calling me baby brother!” Remus demanded. “You’re barely a minute older!”

“Still older,” Roman sang. “And, it seems I'm taller than you too, Rem-Rem!”

“Half an inch!” Remus growled, lunging in anger. “I’m Captain of the most feared pirate ship in all the nine seas! What have you done? You couldn’t even kill the Dragon Witch!”

“I thought we said we were never going to talk about that!” Roman screeched as he dodged. “Besides what kind of name is Hollycock anyhow? Are you calling yourself a chicken.”

“It's Hollyhock, And at least I’m getting cock,” Remus leered, and Roman flushed red, glancing away.

Which was his inevitable downfall. Because Remus swept his leg under Roman’s, making him fall hard on his butt on the floor. Logan cried out in shock. “Oh, shut up, boy toy,” growling as he kicked Roman’s sword away.

Remus towered over him, sword pointing at his neck and foot resting on Roman’s chest. “Finally after thirteen years, I get to slice that obnoxious face of yours to pieces.”

“We have the same face!” Roman protested, the heel of Remus’ boot putting more pressure on his chest.

“Mine is better,” Remus sneered. He lifted his sword, ready to swing.

Roman braced himself, eyes screwing themselves closed without his meaning to. Only for a loud clang to reverberate throughout the room.

Roman opened his eyes to see King Ernst standing over Remus’ unconscious body with a disgruntled look, dropping the metal vase with disgust. “Well, that was tedious.”

“What?” he asked at the varying degrees of disbelief staring at him. “You left the door open. He should’ve been paying more attention to his surroundings.”

“Father, what’s this about me being someone’s Destined?” Logan asked, fury prominent in his voice despite its evenness.

King Ernst had the grace to look away to hide his guilty look. Deliriously, Thomas thought that he was still the same man Thomas remembered meeting over twenty years ago.

“I’m still poisoned, I hope you realized.” Thomas said weakly before vomiting.

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

“So, I guess the wedding’s off?” Virgil asked, staring at the pond.

“I don’t think so,” Patton said thoughtfully. “Prince Logan is furious with his Father, but he understands why his Father did it the way he did. He might not agree with it, he may be very furious with the decision, but he understands. What about Roman?”

“I think the idiot Prince is in love with your Prince,” Virgil said with a shake of his head. “He might be willing to do a longer courtship now. Take the slow road.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair, especially after all they’ve been through.” Patton nodded his head, hand absentmindedly feeding oats to the ducks surrounding them. “What happened to Remus?”

“They’ve thrown him into the stocks three days a week for two months,” Virgil said, watching Patton coo over ducklings feeding from his palms. “He’s left doing the grunt work, scuttling around to make up for his offenses. He’s cuffed, can’t go anywhere without at least three guards. He’s been stripped of his prince’s station, but he’s still royalty, just lower in rank. A duke, I think.”

“His Majesty?”

“King Thomas is going to be fine. Healer Brian said that the poison Remus administer to him was a low dosage. He’ll just be incredibly sick for the next two weeks.”

“Can you believe this all happened when we’ve only been here for almost a month. That was a wild b-ride from start to finish.”

“Pat,” Virgil said annoyingly fond, “that was terrible.”

“Thank you!” Patton beamed. “I couldn’t tear myself away from that pun! I’d rather book it than let in lie in pieces.”

“Patton, please,” Virgil begged.

“Ah, there you two lovebirds are!” An annoyingly flamboyant voice startled the two, making them jump apart.

Virgil sighed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What do you want Roman?”

“Can’t I hang out with the two of you without any secret motives?” Roman blinked innocently.

“You clearly have one, you don’t come around to me without one.”

“What if I wanted to talk to Patton?” Roman pouted, crossing his arms.

Virgil raised his brow, and Roman deflated. “Okay, I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to talk to Patton too, but mainly you.”

“What’s up, kiddo?” Patton took pity on him.

Roman glanced nervously over at Logan, who was obliviously reading under a gazebo. He took out a small velvet box, and Patton gasped, hands on his cheeks and pushing his glasses up.

“Is that-?”

Roman shushed him, looking around to make sure Logan didn’t see anything. “I don’t want Logan to know.”

“Merciful Lady, Roman, is that a ring?” Virgil asked in exasperation.

“It’s my something small,” Roman defended himself. He opened it up, showing the two the ring.

It was cast in a soft coloured gold, small blue sapphires and rubies encrusted into the metal. It was nothing fancy, simple but luxurious enough that it was obvious Roman spent time and money into this. Patton inspected it closer, noticing something inside the band. “Are those-?”

Roman nodded fondly, “Asters and wisterias. I’ve been reading up on them, the languages. Wisteria means welcome or welcoming and asters have a whole slew of meanings, but I’m going to use the universal one: which is symbol of love.”

Virgil snorted, “How very you.”

The Prince only preened, not taking any offense. “I’m going to give this to him now.” he said, standing up.

Patton waved, out of duck feed, “Good luck.”

Roman nodded determinedly, he walked over to Logan’s side, procuring a bouquet of light pink and dark red roses from nowhere. He looked nervous as Logan looked up.

“You think they’ll be alright?” Virgil asked out of the blue.

Patton hummed, giving it some thought. His hair fell in front of his eyes as he turned to face Virgil, “Yeah, I think they will.”

“And… and us?” Patton could practically taste Virgil’s anxiety in the air. He heard a shriek and hid a smile.

He dug in his pockets, pulling out something small. “Here, something small, right? That’s how you Eiehdens do it around here?”

Virgil looked at the object in Patton’s hand with a little hint of confusion. But he took the small beaded bracelet with charms carefully, holding it reverently in his fingers.

“I’ll help you put it on,” Patton said with a small smile, taking the purple bracelet and looping it around Virgil’s wrist.

He wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder carefully, feeling how he tensed. “I think we’re going to be alright.”

He glanced back, seeing how Roman and Logan were hugging the life out of each other. Patton smiled, wide and broad.

“I think we’re all going to be alright.”

A/N: and that marks the end of Blossoming Souls. Thank you so much for reading!

Masterpost | Previous

[rather-impertinent]

The Girl Next Door chpt 11

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since I updated this fic, but now that I am free from the shackles of academia, I decided I wasn’t quite finished with this. This chapter is for Vicki (@hopefulfridays), who has been the loveliest beacon of positivity the last few months, thank you for everything gal!

This fic jumps ahead from the previous chapter by about 2 months, but it could also stand alone as an AU so reading the others isn’t necessary imo. Appearances from like every other character too! Much love xo

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

The soft peachy glow of the morning sun snuck through a gap in the thick hotel curtains. Caroline sighed and checked the time once again, wincing as the harsh glow of her iPhone blinded her tired and hungover eyes.

“It’s just after half-past six,” she announced, snuggling back underneath the covers and yawning widely. “I should probably go before someone catches me coming out of your room,” she pointed out with a chuckle, but made no attempt to move.

“You should probably should,” Dwight agreed, holding her a little tighter. He ran his hand along her smooth back and thought about how lovely the past two months had been. “Did you have fun last night, my love?”

A soft smile graced Caroline’s face – Dwight had only recently started using a pet name for her and although she usually found them vulgar and cringeworthy, she was pleased that Dwight had chosen such a dignified and lovely one. His soft dulcet tones and the way the words rolled of his tongue helped a little, too. “Mhm,” she hummed, cuddling into him more, evidentially abandoning her attempt to sneak out.

Last night was very fun, she reflected. The wedding itself had been beautiful and a lump had even formed in throat as Emma and Sam exchanged their vows, which was ridiculous, of course, since she probably knew them least of all of Dwight’s friends. Though, of course, Dwight’s friends were now also her friends. Especially Demelza. Oh, what fun they’d had dancing to their favourite childhood songs – it seemed Emma had impeccable music taste. And little Geoffrey Charles had asked her to dance. Caroline immediately felt a little awkward as she had next to no experience with young children, but Francis had simply set Geoffrey Charles securely onto her hip and they had danced to a Maroon 5 song. Dwight had elected to dance with little Julia, letting her stand on top of his shoes, claiming that a certain other young man had stolen his dance partner. The bride, having drank more wine than was probably sensible in order to cope with her nerves, only realised near the end of the night that she had forgotten to throw the bouquet. The single female members of the party had all enthusiastically flocked to the dancefloor, all except Caroline, who only made it after an incredibly encouraging shove on the back from Demelza. To her absolute mortification, the bouquet had fell into her arms, despite every attempt to avoid it. Everyone had been very excited for her and Emma came over to tease her about whoever the lucky man would be. Caroline had been so focused on not meeting Dwight’s eye that she had missed the subtle look that Demelza had given them both.

Silently reflectively on last night, too, Dwight smiled softly as he thought of how he and Caroline had comfortably, if a little bashfully, danced to ‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse. It was strange, Dwight thought, how the world could narrow down to two people, no matter how big the surrounding crowd. “You looked beautiful last night, by the way, incase I haven’t already said,” Dwight whispered into the comfortable silence.

Caroline smiled; he had said so, many times. She would definitely have to wear red more often. “You cut a mighty fine figure in a suit yourself, Dr Enys,” she purred in reply.

“Do I?” Dwight asked, feigning ignorance. He had gathered she thought so by the way she practically ripped the garment off his body about seven hours ago.

Caroline shot him a glance but leaned in for a kiss anyway. “You do,” she confirmed, with an suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Before she could breathe out a laugh, Dwight’s lips had met her own, his hand cupping her face. She sighed at the action, he was such an attentive kisser. Taking the sigh as an encouragement, Dwight smoothly pulled Caroline on top of him, half-sitting up so as not to break the kiss.

Caroline’s heart began to race as Dwight began to kiss her breast, but the daylight that now came flooding in through the curtains was a nagging reminder of how long she had spent in his room and how long she had been since she last showered. “Dwight, if we have sex one more time today, I don’t think I’ll physically be able to walk to my room,” she said, half-laughing as she moved off him. Her resolve likely would not last long, so perhaps it was time to sneak off to her room after all.

“Are you saying I’m good in bed?” Dwight teased as he reclined back against the plump hotel pillows.

“I’d be more worried if you weren’t good in bed, what would be the point in dating a doctor if he didn’t even know where the clit is?” she said seriously. Dwight threw his head back, roaring with laughter. Caroline placed a hand over his mouth to quieten him, though found herself giggling too. “Shhh!” she hissed with a grin as he clutched his sides. “People will think you’ve gone mad, laughing to yourself all alone in here.”

A tear leaked from the outer corner of the doctor’s eye and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked at Caroline, whose face was mere inches from his own. Her eyes were still remarkably blue, even when cloudy from excessive alcohol consumption, not to mention the dim light of the room. “I will never get tired of your blunt sense of humour,” he vowed, chuckling still. “I–,” he paused, catching himself. Maybe he had gone a little mad. I love you. “I will honestly never get tired of it.”

With a smug nod of agreement as to her own impeccable sense of humour, Caroline released him and stood up, fetching her black strapless bra from the floor and putting it on. Dwight sat up in bed and rubbed his tired eyes, sighing as exhaustion coursed through his veins as the adrenaline began to wear off. Last night had been worth it though, he thought to himself.

Zipping up her dress, and with a wry purse of her lips, Caroline teased: “Well, I hope you don’t miss me too much in the forty-five minutes I’ll be gone.” She bent down to straighten her black, satin heels before stepping into them.

Dwight got up to walk her to the door. “How ever shall I cope in your absence until breakfast?” he wondered aloud, a sarcastic smirk on his face.

The smirk earned him a gentle tap on the arm and a quick kiss. And another. And then another.

Caroline giggled against his lips, feeling the beginnings of his stubble brush her cupid’s bow. “Okay, I really am leaving now. And you need to shave,” she told him with the arch of her bow.

Dwight scratched his jawline and hummed in agreement. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said with a grin as he opened the door for her to leave.

They both froze immediately at the unexpected sight before them.

Ross and Demelza Poldark stood, if a little drunkenly, in the hallway in front of Dwight’s door with victorious smirks and cocked eyebrows. They high-fived each other enthusiastically before immediately beginning to argue about who had guessed that Dwight and Caroline were in a secret relationship first.

Dwight grabbed his friends by their arms and tugged them into the room and firmly shut the door. “Do you two think you could be any fucking louder?” he hissed at his dearest friends, both of whom wore fixed smiles. “There is a reason we were trying to keep it a secret, but you go ahead, tell the entire hotel!” he invited, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t tempt me because I will,” Demelza warned in a singsong tone. She then squealed and threw herself into Dwight’s arms and then into Caroline’s. “I’m so happy for you both!” She grinned at the couple, her happiness and enthusiasm genuine and infectious. She enveloped them both into a bone-crushing hug once again.

Dwight ducked his head a little, blushing. “Thanks, Dem,” he said a little shyly.

“Thank you, Demelza,” Caroline echoed with a genuine smile.

“Congrats, it’s about fucking time!” was all that Ross commented, though he did look pleased, proud even.

Dwight flashed a smile, before realising that he was standing in front of everyone shirtless and in his boxer shorts. “Thanks mate. Now could all you please get out so I can shower?” he asked rhetorically, leading the three of them to the door.

Ross glanced at Caroline and then at Dwight. “I bet you need one,” he taunted with a suggestive wink.

Redness instantly bloomed on Dwight’s cheeks. Expecting Caroline to be similarly embarrassed, he tentatively glanced at her but was met with an expression of… pride?

“Fucking right,” Caroline stated confidently. “And so do I! You’d think he was a footballer with that stamina, not a doctor!”

Ross burst into peals of laughter as the three of them entered the hallway. He casually threw an arm over Caroline’s shoulder as they made towards their respective rooms. “You know, Caroline, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Ross said philosophically.

Dwight couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight before him. “I hate you both so much,” he called after them. Demelza shot him a sympathetic, but genuine, smile over her shoulder. He closed the door with a sigh, a shake of the head and an irremovable smile.

Almost an hour later, freshly-shaven and suitably-dressed, Dwight arrived downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was quiet, naturally, given it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. His eyes searched the room for a familiar face, and he noticed Demelza’s fiery curls sitting at a table near the back. Making his way there, he passed Morwenna, Drake and Joy having breakfast together at a small table. They exchanged warm smiles and Dwight blew a quick raspberry on Joy’s cheek before promising to catch up with the Carnes later.

“Morning all,” he greeted as he pulled out a chair to sit down. “How are we all this morning?” he asked with a chuckle, feeling he already knew the answer.

“I think I might actually fucking die,” Francis groaned roughly, staring miserably at his untouched scrambled eggs on toast. He pressed the heel of his hands to his forehead. “Elizabeth, why did you let me drink so much?”

“I drank a bit too much myself,” came Elizabeth’s hoarse reply. “I’m starting to feel a bit better now that I’ve eaten though. You should have some toast, Francis.”

Francis shook his head firmly at the mere thought of consuming food. His tired, half-shut eyes met Dwight’s. “How are you, mate?”

“Surprisingly fresh,” Dwight admitted. “It’s amazing what a shower can do!”

“Amen to that,” Ross echoed, cutting a hash brown in half. “I feel completely sober and fresh after a shower. How are you doing, love?” he asked Demelza, who always suffered from terrible hangovers.

“Okay,” she said cautiously, as though trying to convince herself. “I think I’m just tired. I’ll probably go for a sleep in the car on the way home.”

“Mummy, when we go home?” Julia asked as she ceased eating her bowl of cheerios.

“Soon, my lamb,” Demelza answered, cutting into her poached eggs on toast.

“When?”

Demelza sighed wearily. “In a few hours, sweetheart,” Ross elaborated. “You can play with your cousin for a while,” he offered, glancing over to Drake and Morwenna’s table.

Julia seemed very happy with this offer and resumed silently eating her cereal and colouring in her new colouring book, which had been the most incredible distraction both last night and this morning. Demelza made a mental note to google the creator of colouring books and lay some flowers at their grave one day.  

“Morning everyone,” Caroline greeted evenly as she entered the dining room. Her face was fresh and make-up free, her hair tied loosely into a messy bun and she wore a fleece and some black sweatpants.

“Oh, my God, that looks so cosy,” Demelza gushed with envy, now wishing she had brought her favourite loungewear with her. 

Caroline briefly wrapped her arms around herself, giving herself a quick hug, enjoying the soft fleece of the sleeves against her bare arms. “It is.” She pulled out a chair opposite Dwight and reached for a bowl and some fruit. 

A teasing smile spread across Ross’ face. “Doesn’t Dwight have a similar one, too?” He wondered aloud between mouthfuls of his breakfast being silenced by an under-the-table kick from both Dwight and Demelza. 

“Perhaps my incredible fashion sense has infected you from across the hall,” Dwight offered casually, shooting a teasing look at Caroline.

She tossed her hair in retort. “You wish, Dr Enys,” she scoffed lightly. “I got it in a vintage shop a few weeks ago, actually. Regardless, I think we can all agree I wear this look better,” she said as she stabbed her fork into her fruit salad. 

Dwight masked his smirk with a bite of toast - he knew full well it was, in fact, his jumper. He had been wondering where it had gone just last week. Their eyes met and she winked at him. 

Elizabeth took a sip of orange juice, frowning and wincing when she realised it had bits in it. “Caroline?” she said across the table. Caroline looked at her, her eyes curious. “I went by your room last night, but you didn’t answer.” 

“What time did you knock?” Caroline asked smoothly, while Dwight inwardly begged his ears to stop burning. She reached for a slice of toast from the middle of the rack and began to butter it. 

Elizabeth contemplated Caroline’s question for a moment. “Around midnight, I think. It wasn’t like you to leave a party so early, so I just wanted to check if you were okay,” she explained with a gentle smile. 

“Aww,” Caroline said, genuinely a bit touched by the gesture. It was really quite lovely to have friends. “That’s so sweet, Elizabeth. But I’m fine, I was fine, just a bit hammered. I was probably just fast asleep.” 

“Or not...,” inferred Ross quietly under his breath, which earned him a glare from Dwight. 

“Stop it,” he hissed in warning, meeting his best friend’s eyes. 

Ross simply chuckled and continued eating his mammoth sized cooked breakfast. Dwight’s stomach swirled uneasily. He couldn’t understand how people could eat such greasy food so early in the morning. Toast, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter, and Dwight could easily polish away an entire loaf of bread if he wanted to. 

“Unca Dwight?” Julia piped up, her hazel eyes round and innocent as she looked at her unofficial uncle. 

Dwight looked at her expectantly, a soft smile on his face. “Yes, sweetheart?” He took a bite of buttery toast. 

Julia broke their gaze to resume colouring in a fox, which happened to be purple and green and resembled an alien as opposed to a mammal. “Do I get to say ‘aunt Cawoline’ to Cawoline now?” she asked with a casual innocence. 

Silence fell across the large table. Demelza’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open slightly, Ross attempted to stifle his laughter, Dwight had seemingly turned to stone and Caroline stared at her bowl of fruit with undying interest. Perhaps a two-year-old cannot be trusted with a secret after all, Demelza mourned guiltily.

“What’s this?” Elizabeth asked eagerly, loving to hear a bit of gossip. “Caroline? Dwight?” 

When neither of them answered, Ross announced, with unbridled glee at the day’s turn of events, “Dwight and Caroline are a couple.”

“Awww! Congratulations, that’s so lovely!” Elizabeth gushed. “Isn’t it lovely, Francis?”

“Spectacular,” Francis mumbled, his spinning head resting on his folded arms as he stared at the pine of the table. 

“What’s spectacular?” Drake asked as he approached the table, having heard Elizabeth’s excitement. 

“Dwight and Caroline are together,” Demelza chimed in with a bright smile. 

“Nice!” Drake commented as he grinned at them both and beckoned Morwenna over. 

“So I guess we are just telling everyone now,” Dwight said quietly, laughing, blushing. 

“Is that a problem, Dr Enys? Are you ashamed of me?” Caroline challenged him. Her expression was the epitome of nonchalance and teasing but there was a hint of seriousness in her eyes. 

Dwight smiled softly. “Of course not,” he murmured sincerely, holding her gaze.

Retching noises came from the direction of Ross Poldark. “Eugh. I feel like I’m in a teenage romcom,” he taunted. 

“As you can tell, Ross is the epitome of romance and I am a very lucky woman,” Demelza joked to the breakfast table, causing a chorus of laughter to echo in the large room. 

“What’s all the commotion about?” asked Morwenna with a smile as she came to stand beside Drake, with little Joy sitting peacefully on her hip.

“Caroline and I are seeing each other,” Dwight explained, a bashful blush appearing on his cheeks. 

Morwenna looked at them both with such a genuine grin of excitement that Caroline immediately felt ashamed for the bad feelings she had briefly harboured towards the young woman. She also lamented that Grey’s Anatomy boxset she had thrown away out of spite that day. “Aww, that’s lovely. We must congratulate uncle Dwight, mustn’t we, my love?” she told Joy, moving round the back of the table to give Dwight a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Joy melted into Dwight’s shoulder for a hug before Dwight then manoeuvred her to rest on his knee, where he encouraged her to practice standing up. The baby stretched an arm out across the table in Caroline’s direction. “Oop! It looks like someone’s got her eye on your watermelon, Caroline,” Dwight pointed out with a laugh as he bounced Joy lightly on his knee. 

“Well, she’ll just have to look elsewhere because it’s mine,” Caroline said seriously, to which everyone laughed. She glanced at the baby, who was admittedly almost too cute to believe, with a degree of unease as the infant stared back at her. Caroline had almost no experience of dealing with children or babies and had no idea how to communicate with them. Should she give Joy some of her watermelon? Can babies with so few teeth even eat watermelon? Horace isn’t allowed. 

Caroline’s glance flickered to Morwenna. “Can- does she- should I give her some?” 

Morwenna smiled and shook her head slightly. “It’s alright, she’s just eaten,” she answered softly, moving to take her daughter from Dwight. “Someone is just being greedy!” she cooed, tickling her tummy. 

The rest of the morning went smoothly, almost the entire wedding party electing to stay at the breakfast table to chat, which resulted in many hastily packed suitcases and rushed showers. 

Dwight Enys 10:45am 

Ready to check out? X

 Caroline Penvenen 10:47am 

Almost! You haven’t seen my earrings, have you? Xx

 Dwight Enys 10:47am

Yeah you left them in my room, I’ve put them in my bag xx 

 Caroline Penvenen 10:48am 

I hope you wrapped them nicely in something, they’re Chanel!! If they’re broken you owe me a new pair Dr Enys xx

 Dwight Enys 10:48am

Well it’s a good thing I know how to harvest organs then xx 

 Caroline Pevenen 10:49am

You’re such a geek xx

I’m outside your room btw, I require your assistance with my massive suitcase x

 Dwight locked his phone and grabbed his own small suitcase, tapping all of his pockets in search of his room key on his way towards the door before remembering that he put it in his wallet. He opened the door and sure enough, Caroline was standing there and had put on her signature pink lipstick since he last saw her. He stared at her for a moment and she smirked at him, as though able to hear his thoughts. He then regained his cool and mocked: “does milady need help with her luggage?” 

Caroline rolled her eyes theatrically but failed to contain a smile. She curtsied in reply. “Yes, please, thank you, Sir,” she teased, her tone overtly prim and proper. 

~~~~~~~

Caroline sighed heavily as the beautiful manor house grew smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror of Dwight’s car. “I wish this weekend didn’t have to end.”

Dwight smiled as he turned the radio down a notch, before joining in her in a somewhat sad sigh. “I know, me too. It was lovely,” he glanced sideways at her, taking his eyes off the road long enough to note the smile in her eyes as she looked at him in agreement. “It doesn’t have to end, you know,” he continued, not aware of the words coming out of his mouth. “I mean, the weekend has to end, but the loveliness doesn’t: you could just come with me to all the future weddings I get invited to – and any other events.”

“Is this a proposal?” Caroline taunted mischievously.

“What?!” Dwight spluttered, nearly veering off the road. “No! No, no. No, it’s not,” he stammered, his hands gripping the wheel. “I- I just meant that it might be nice if you wanted to do something like this again. It’s fine if you don’t – completely fine – it’s up to you, I was just saying– shit, I’m sorry you must think I’m–“

“Dwight!” Caroline interjected, laughing tenderly at how tongue-tied he’d become. “I was joking.” She put her hand on top of his, which gripped the gear stick, and squeezed it for reassurance. “I’d love to – do something like this again, that is,” she added pointedly, her lips curved into a gleaming smile, her eyes laughing at him.

He chuckled and smiled warmly at her. The world narrowed down to the feel of her hand on top of his. He noted that her bare left hand rested comfortably on her thigh.

One day, Dwight thought wistfully. But for now, her company, the soft hum of the radio, the morning winter sunshine and the warm, companionable silence that filled the air between them, was all that he needed