#excuse some of the choppiness I tried my best
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red-moon-at-night · 2 months ago
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(Almost) Every time Aeneas shouts for Paris to get down from the mast in What Could Go Wrong: A Compilation (with bonus Paris falling off the ship and screaming at the end because why wouldn't I also include that it's hilarious)
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gunilslaugh · 11 months ago
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heyy, hope you are having a great day. im currently sobbing like a baby in the subway. could you please write junhan comforting reader after they had a huge fight with their friends etc. that would be really comforting thankcyou 🩷
Hello, I'm so sorry to hear about you crying :'(. Sending you love and hugs <3 <3 <3. I hope this helps you feel better!
Han Hyeongjun
Summary: Hyeongjun comforting you after you had a fight with your friends.
WC:588
Warning:none
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photo not mine credits to owner.
Tears spilled from your eyes uncontrollably as you made your way home. What was supposed to be a fun hangout with your friends somehow turned into a big blowout. Your emotions are an overflowing mixture of pain and anger. The status of your friendship is very unclear at the moment. 
Shaking of your hands made it increasingly hard to open your door once you finally made it home. Hyeongjun heard you arriving home and happily made his way to meet you. His happiness was quickly turned into concern when he saw your state. Tear stained face, bloodshot eyes, heaving, choppy breaths. 
“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asked you. You shook your head, unable to speak. He encases you lovingly in his arms. Leaving a gentle peck on your temple. “It’s ok,” he soothes. One hand rubbing circles on your back. His other arm wrapped snugly around your waist. You both stay like that for quite some time while you calm down. Starting to relax in Hyeongjun’s warm embrace. “How about I get you something to drink?” he offered. 
“Yes please.” Your voice was weak and hoarse. It yanked on Hyeongjun’s heartstrings. First he guides you over to the couch, making sure that you are comfortable.
“I'll be right back,” he excused himself. He then makes his way over to the kitchen to make you your favorite tea. He prepares it the way that you like it before carefully, but quickly brings it to you. “Careful it’s hot,” he tells you, handing you the steaming mug. He finds his place right beside you. His arm wraps around your shoulder when you naturally lean into him. His delicate fingers run through your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” he carefully questioned.  You took a sip of your tea, setting the mug down. 
“My friends and I got into this huge fight,” you told him. Hyeongjun reaches for one of your hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. 
“Friends fight sometimes. It’ll be ok,” he tried to reassure you. 
“I don’t know Hyeongjun. This fight was really bad and I-” Your throat tightened and tears pricked your eyes.
“It’s ok it’s ok. Don’t cry,” he shushed you, taking you into his embrace once again. Hyeongjun isn’t the best with words, so doesn’t know what to say. He hopes that you can feel his unconditional love and care through his actions. “Just give it some time,” he told you. 
“But what if things don’t work out? What if our friendship is really over?” you voiced your concerns. 
“It’s ok. Sometimes we have to say goodbye to friends. I know it’s hard, but you’ll be ok I promise. I’m right here for you ok? I’ll always be here for you,” Hyeongjun says. His words bring you a much needed sense of comfort as did all of the other things he did for you. 
“Promise?” you asked. 
“Promise,” he said. He brought your hand up to his lips pressing a kiss on it to seal his promise. 
“Thank you,” you showed your appreciation.
“Of course.” He smiled. You once more made yourself comfortable against his side. This time one arm is around your waist, drawing random little patterns. You picked a show to watch while you drank your tea. You couldn’t be more thankful than to have Hyeongjun and the solace that he brings to you. Hyeongjun couldn’t be happier than to be there for you wherever you needed. As long as you two were together everything would be ok.
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satans-helper · 5 months ago
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Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XXIV
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Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist
Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Word Count: ~4700
Warnings: a little angst, some mild sexual content
Well, my friends, we've made it to the last chapter. I never know when I'm going to end a fic, I just feel it out, and once the idea for this chapter kept rolling through my mind and growing, the definitive conclusion just seemed so right. I can't believe we've been following these two (three if you include Jake lol) since October! I love writing series so much and this is my first complete Danny x Sam series <3 I do have thoughts about reviving Gold Isn't Everything, if any of you remember my cowboy AU slash series...anyway, thank you all for reading and commenting and supporting! Vampire Danny x Juice Box Sam forever <3
---
Things were tense despite both of their best efforts. Danny remained on edge–it made him flighty and uncomfortable, and his stress rubbed off on Sam like a rash. Sam had been trying to make Danny feel better–feel more assured and safe. Nothing he tried was working. 
One silver lining was, Sam had been looking for an excuse to get away anyway, and Danny’s ongoing anxiety about being “caught” in Detroit motivated him to make a plan. Originally, it was just going to be the two of them camping–pitching a tent, hiking, tending a fire, cooking and drinking out in the woods was always something Sam looked forward to once nicer weather rolled around, and it would be the first time he got to do it with Danny. But of course, once the twins caught word of his plan they latched onto it and invited themselves. Sam had tried to protest but it was Danny who actually agreed that they should join. Sam wanted to protest that too, but ultimately decided that if his vampire boyfriend needed all of the distractions, so be it. He’d deal with it. Just as long as they had separate tents.
They went up north, where the groves of pine trees and fir trees became so thick and full that the dense green of them seemed endless; birch trees also surrounded their campsite, which was hardly anything more than a choppy section of grass and a crude fire pit in the middle. There was barely enough room for the two tents but they made it work–just enough, anyway. At least there was a creek flowing behind the site–that would help with some noise cancellation, Sam thought, because the entire drive he’d been thinking about how badly he wanted Danny to fuck him in their tent. Well, before the twins integrated themselves, he wanted to fuck Danny right on the dirt in front of the fire pit. A forcibly quiet handjob in their tent wasn’t as alluring, but he’d have to take whatever he could get.
He was a little nervous about all of it, he had to admit to himself. A little day trip to Detroit with walls of art to keep them mentally occupied was one thing–a camping trip where all of them were so together was another, and Sam’s thoughts kept drifting to Jake. He had no concerns about where he stood with Danny–he was confident that he really was Danny’s one and only–but he still had concerns about where Danny stood in Jake’s mind. They hadn’t really talked about it. Sam had just decided he no longer cared. But he did. Just a little. 
He certainly cared enough to intercept when Jake proposed a hike with just him and Danny, intending to leave Sam and Josh behind. No way was Sam ready for that to happen so, despite actually wanting to hang back at camp, strip down and explore the creek rather than a trail, he turned it into a whole group thing.
Josh led the way, a dislodged tree branch that he’d found not long into their journey fashioned as a walking stick. It was a hot afternoon and Sam could already see the sheen of sweat on the back of his brother’s neck, beads dripping down behind his ears. Sam was sweating too, even more so because he kept having to swat mosquitoes away. Jake, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease each time Sam looked back at him trailing behind and it was pissing him off. 
He also kept trying to walk in step with Danny, but Danny and Sam were walking together and there wasn’t much room leftover on the trail. So it was easy enough to keep Jake away from the two of them then, like Sam was keeping those mosquitoes at bay, but after the four of them ascended up a slightly rocky hill, the trail widened. Jake shuffled up to meet Danny’s side faster than Sam could even realize, too busy trying to catch his breath.
Whatever. It’s not like anything was going to happen as long as he was there, Sam decided, and it’s not like anything would happen anytime, anywhere regardless. Still, it was so annoying to have Jake fumble his way into their space and into their conversation. Eventually, he took Danny over entirely; Sam paused to wait up for Josh, who had fallen behind once he’d stopped to tie one of his boots, and scoffed.
“What?” Josh asked, and his unnecessary cluelessness only annoyed Sam more.
“Look!” Sam hissed quietly, gesturing at Danny and Jake hiking along, moving further up the trail without a care in the world.
Josh did look, then sighed as he laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Ah. Well, let’s move it along, Samuel. God forbid those two get out of your sight for even a single second.”
“I just want one day without an issue,” Sam said, keeping his voice hushed to a level the other two wouldn’t hear, though the birds and insects in addition to Danny and Jake’s own conversation were already doing a fine job of that. “I spent months trying to get Danny to be exclusive with me in that way. Then Jake decides he wants to bang my boyfriend–great!” Sam huffed as he tripped a bit over a root. “Now Danny’s all paranoid because of what happened at the museum. We planned this trip to get away from it all for a bit but you two just had to ruin that too.”
“Danny invited us,” Josh said, so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded smug to Sam, but before he could verbally retaliate, his brother went on: “I think you need to just take a step back and remind yourself that Jake and Danny are friends–as a matter of fact, we’re all friends–and if you can’t trust your boyfriend, you’ve got bigger problems.”
“It’s never been about me not trusting Danny–”
“I think it is,” Josh interrupted, catching Sam’s eye as they trudged onward, the heat graciously calmed for a moment by a cool, languid breeze. “Because you can’t chill out about it, and Jake hasn’t done a thing that you haven’t let him do.”
Sam clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. He wanted to argue, but maybe Josh was right. All this time, his focus had been entirely on Jake and how he didn’t trust his brother, but what was really stopping Sam from not trusting Danny just a little bit? Sam had, as he’d reiterated to Josh, had to deal with Danny being intimate with other people for months. Not sex, not while they were together, Sam knew that, but it didn’t matter how little Danny had done with those people–he’d done something with each of them. Even the mere thought of Danny flashing his flirtatious, seductive eyes at someone else filled Sam with envy and rage.
Danny wasn’t really thinking much of Jake being by his side during the hike. He was just happy to have all the extra company–Sam was amazing, of course, and he had no opposition to a camping trip with just the two of them. But when the twins expressed their interest, he’d invited them along without even thinking. Jake was a calming presence and offered a lot of intrigue–he shared things about literature and music that Danny didn’t know. He always felt like he learned something new from their conversations. And Josh was funny, vibrant and refreshing to be around because he was the only one totally unbothered, or Danny guessed perhaps just uninterested, in the vampire aspect of his life. Josh knew about it but didn’t care one way or the other–Danny had never encountered that before. In his experience, people were either terrified at the realization or they were entranced, like Sam and Jake.
He intrinsically knew that Sam didn’t just like him because he was a vampire, but sometimes Danny’s brain itched at him to think about that anyway. Because really, what would have brought them together and made them stay together if he hadn’t been such a wild fascination for Sam? When the twins had told Danny that Sam had never really had a best friend before, certainly not a boyfriend, that had soothed his soul a bit–but Sam had had girlfriends. Quite a few, apparently, whereas most of Danny’s experience had been short-lived and stale or, later on, only because he needed to eat. 
“You really don’t mind that we’re here?” Jake asked, steering Danny away from his increasing doubt. “Josh and I?”
“Not at all.” Danny flinched as a deer fly tried to assault his neck–he swatted it away and looked ahead at the next hill they had to climb, even more steep and rockier than the last one. “I like that it’s all of us here. I haven’t gone camping in a really long time. It’s nice to be with a group.”
“Your family doesn’t go?”
“They do. I just haven’t gone with them the last few times.”
“Oh.”
Jake sounded so dejected on his behalf that Danny felt compelled to say, “I should go with them next time. Now that I’ll be getting some confidence in my camping skills back.”
“You should,” Jake agreed, panting a little as they began to ascend the new hill. 
Danny had to focus on his own breathing–the incline was sharper than what he was accustomed to from the flatness of the rest of the state, and the rocks of varied sizes and sharpness made it imperative to watch only the way his feet were moving and where to step next. 
He was listening to Jake begin to say something about what they might cook for dinner when the sentence was interrupted by a grunt and a sudden low, dense thud–Danny looked to his side and Jake was no longer standing there. He was down on the ground, with one knee cocked, the whole leg a little twisted, and both of his hands flat against the rocks, like he just face-planted into the hill.
“Damn!” Josh called out from behind as Danny snapped into action. He crouched down beside Jake, who was slowly turning over to sit up.
“Jesus, Jake,” Sam said, and soon enough both of Jake’s brothers had circled him and Danny.
Jake’s knee was skinned and gouged. He groaned as he inspected the wound, attempting to use his hands before seemingly noticing for the first time that his palms were bleeding too. “This is what I get for wearing shorts.”
The breeze carried the scent of Jake’s blood straight into Danny’s nostrils as he crouched beside him. He realized how incredibly rare it was that he ever just got to smell blood like that, from an external circumstance and not one of his own making, and as the scent filled his nose, he could imagine the taste that he had once experienced. It made his mouth water.
“Can you walk?” Josh asked, making Danny also realize that he’d just been staring and doing nothing at all helpful.
“I think so,” Jake said, trying to get up without putting his scraped hands back on the rocks for leverage. Danny finally had a purpose then–he hooked an arm around Jake’s shoulders and aided him into a standing position, trying to ignore the scent of that blood. A shocking amount of it, really.
“We should go back,” Danny suggested, looking down at Jake’s wrecked knee again. “I brought a first-aid kit. Figured I’d need it for Sam though, honestly.”
If there was something in that kit to vanquish the jealousy Sam was feeling, perhaps he would find some use in it as well. He knew it was silly to be jealous of Danny merely helping his injured brother get up after what was sort of a pathetic and decently hilarious fall, but he still felt it. In his eyes, Danny’s hand lingered too long on Jake’s shoulder as did his gaze, even worse when Sam noticed where that gaze was lingering the most–on all the blood. 
“You guys could finish the hike if you wanted,” Danny suggested, making too-late eye contact with his boyfriend, then Josh. “Jake and I can go back and get him all sterilized and patched up.”
“No,” Sam said quickly–too quick and too sharp, he realized based on everyone’s expressions. He squared his shoulders with his hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack. “We’ll all go back.”
Back at camp, Jake sat on the bench of the picnic table next to the fire pit. Danny was on his knees in the dirt in front of him, gently wiping Jake’s knee with a damp paper towel while Jake cleaned up his own hands.
“I could do this all myself, you know,” Jake said, and Danny looked up just in time to see Jake glance over at a scowling Sam. 
“I don’t mind,” Danny told him after he tried to give Sam a reassuring look that didn’t appear to work. “I can finally put this kit to use. I’ve had most of the stuff for years but, like I said, I stopped going camping for a while there. Thankfully, I haven’t had to clean up any injuries at home lately either.” He went for the hydrogen peroxide next–Jake only winced silently as Danny dabbed that over his wound, then came the Neosporin. 
“Only because your saliva has healing powers,” Jake said softly and with a little smile. 
Danny chuckled. “Yeah. Fucking weird, right?” With the blood cleaned up from all of Jake’s little injuries, he felt some relief. Glancing over to his boyfriend again, however, he could see that Sam was still pissed. It was time to do even more damage control. 
“Are you still worried about the girl you ran into?”
Danny sighed and handed the Neosporin to Jake to use on his poor hands. “Not as much. I figure that nothing’s going to happen–it’s just been eating away at me.” Jake smiled again. “No pun intended,” Danny said with a small laugh. “I still wish I wasn’t this sometimes but there’s nothing I can do about it. As long as Sam is with me, no one else ever has to get hurt again.”
“May I remind you that you were very gentle with me, Danny. I didn’t get hurt. Sam never got hurt either.”
Danny patted Jake’s uninjured leg before he stood up. “I know. But you and Sam are the only ones who have ever wanted it. It terrifies everyone else.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, and kept his focus on his hands. “I get it, man–objectively. But you gotta remember there’s absolutely nothing terrifying about you.” Once he twisted the cap back onto the tube and put it aside, he looked up at Danny. “You’re a sweetheart through and through and Sam’s lucky to have you.”
Danny sighed again and crumpled the damp paper towels in his hands. “Thanks, Jake. Of course, he’s fucking pissed at me now.”
“Why? ‘Cause you played doctor for five minutes?” Jake looked over at Sam again, who had at least busied himself with collecting kindling, though he was obviously staying close enough to keep an eye on the two of them. Jake turned back to Danny and said, “You’ll smooth things over with him just fine. He’s a total sap for you.”
But Sam gave Danny the cold shoulder the rest of the afternoon and through the evening, so distant and frigid that Danny was lost as to how to approach him. The strange, tense quiet from him made the entire evening disconcerting–it seemed like Danny wasn’t alone in not being able to relax. Even the twins were rigid with their brother’s steady, silent anger, and Danny felt guilty knowing that if Sam was mad at one of his brothers, they would have hashed it out quickly and easily and they wouldn’t all be sitting around the fire awkwardly, like they were all just waiting to go to bed to escape.
When the twins announced they were going to settle in for the night, although it was still fairly early, Danny was still unsure of his next move. All he knew was that he needed to make things better before the morning, otherwise the whole trip would be a wash, and that wasn’t even the whole of it. So he stayed sitting next to Sam at the fire, wanting to touch him, wanting to offer all the right words, but Sam wouldn’t even look at him. 
Danny was looking up at the stars, going through the roster of nice, sweet things to say in his head as the twins tucked themselves into their tent. The flames crackled while there were also soft sounds of fabric being rustled and hushed voices; he tried to just focus on the glittering canvas above his head. Maybe he’d see a shooting star and he could wish to somehow be a normal person again.
“Why’d you have to do that?”
Sam hadn’t spoken in so long, the sound of his voice startled Danny. He brought his focus back to his boyfriend, although Sam was still looking into the fire and not at him. “Which thing?” Danny asked. “I feel like I’ve done a lot today to make you upset.”
Sam finally looked at him–or really, glared at him. “Jake could have taken care of himself. You did that on purpose.” 
Danny looked over at the twins’ tent, then motioned for Sam to lower his voice. “I chose to help him, yeah, but I didn’t do that to hurt you, Sam. I was being–”
“What?” Sam snapped, still at full volume. “A good friend?”
Danny stood up and grabbed Sam’s arm, hauling him out of the chair. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll both feel better after you can freely yell at me without them hearing.” He was surprised when Sam didn’t fight out of his grasp and make more of a scene right there in their campsite–Danny was able to steer him out of it and onto the road, walking with only the starlight and moonlight to aid their steps. The deep darkness of the trees around them would have been a little spooky if Sam’s fury wasn’t the most frightening thing in the world.
“You know I’d do the same for you,” Danny said, which prompted Sam to thrash his arm out of his hold. 
“That’s the problem!” Sam hissed, stopping in his tracks. “You shouldn’t do the same. That should be for only me. You should let my brothers deal with their shit on their own.” Sam turned away before Danny could read his face. “I’m supposed to be the only one.”
Danny reached a hand out but dropped it after a second of letting it linger in the air, inched away from Sam’s shoulder. “You are the only one, Sammy. How many times do I need to say it?”
“It’s not just about saying it. You need to show me too.”
Danny sighed, defeated. “I show you all the time. Don’t you see it?”
“I see when you have little secret conversations with Jake. I saw the way you looked at his gross, bloody knee. I see how easily you laugh with Josh. I see everything, Daniel.”
Really, Danny just wanted to make Sam see how petulant and ridiculous he was being, because truly, none of that meant anything to him. Danny saved the most intimate conversations for just Sam; he looked at Sam like he was made of the most precious diamonds and gold; and no one ever made him laugh like Sam did. 
But what Danny actually said, the words so instinctive and raw, shocked even himself: “Sometimes I think you like feeling this way, Sam. All jealous and wound up. Sometimes I feel like you only like me because there’s one special, fucked up thing about me that ignites all those feelings to begin with.”
Sam whipped around, his eyes blazing even in the dark. “You think I only like you because you’re a vampire? How the fuck could you think that after all this time?”
“I know it’s not accurate. But sometimes it just feels that way. Just like what you think–you have to know I don’t like Jake or Josh in the same way I like you. Because I love you. But your wacky brain keeps telling you that there’s something more there.” Danny made a real move again by pulling Sam into himself, his arms wrapped around his waist tight enough to where Sam wouldn’t be able to wriggle free even if he tried. “Feelings aren’t always reality. There’s nothing there for anyone else. Not a single fucking thing, Sam. All I’ve got, it’s all for you.” 
Sam’s face softened, and Danny was surprised at how quickly, all things considered, his hard feelings were being extinguished. “I know. I know that.”
Danny smiled and tapped Sam’s temple. “Then what’s going on up here all the time, baby?”
“Bullshit. Nonsense,” Sam replied with a scoff, becoming putty in Danny’s arms. “I don’t like feeling jealous. It’s exhausting. Jake just–he makes me feel crazy. I’m afraid that he still wants you and that he’ll always still want you and I fucked up by letting that thing happen.”
“I don’t think he does. That thing you did made him see reality,” Danny told him. He was sure that the bulk of his allure had drained away on Jake’s end–he looked at Danny differently now. The mostly-hidden longing was gone from his gaze, and the covert flirting that Danny had missed before was absent. Jake was a friend, and there were no more secrets as far as he was concerned. Only perhaps the scraps of lingering heartbreak that Jake would inevitably heal from. “But if you’re so worried, talk to him about it.” 
Sam looked away, scowling. “Maybe tomorrow. You and Josh can go for a hike or something and let me talk to him.” He sighed and brought his gaze back to Danny. “I’ll admit it’s been a little while since our last heart-to-heart and we probably need to like, regroup or whatever.”
Danny smoothed one hand across Sam’s lower back. “That’s a good idea. But you actually trust me with Josh?”
“Oh, come on. We all know Josh doesn’t care.”
Danny laughed. “Oh–ouch!”
Sam wiggled in his hold. “No, not like that! He doesn’t care that you’re a vampire. There’s no hard-on for you to chomp into him and suck his blood.”
“I know, I know. Okay. Good.” Danny embraced Sam in a complete hug, resting his chin on his shoulder and smelling the smoke in his hair and the sweet blood that was running beneath his skin. “Are we good? I want us to have a fun trip, but more than that, I want you to really, totally, finally understand how much I love you and only you.”
Sam pulled back and clasped the sides of Danny’s face. With such close proximity and the faint, ghostly light from the moon, he could make out more than enough to remind him of how perplexing and bewitching Danny’s beauty was. He couldn’t really blame anyone else for wanting his boyfriend–Sam just had to keep reminding himself of how lucky he was that Danny continued to choose him. 
“I understand, Daniel,” Sam told him, inching one thumb past Danny’s lip. Danny tried to latch on, but Sam ran it over one fang instead. “Now let me show you how I love all of you. Not just this.” 
In the depths of the forest, within a small clearing beneath the waxing moon, Danny and Sam fumbled on top of their own shed clothing, hands exploring warm, bare skin. As Danny tried to match the pace and intensity of Sam’s kisses, he was rolled over onto his back with Sam straddling his hips hard, wasting no time to hump and grind in the silent and chilly night air. 
Sam did show Danny how much he loved all of him, from the top of his head where long fingers raked through his curls to the arches of his feet that tingled with anticipation as Sam’s hands gripped his ankles and stroked up his legs. Every part of him was caressed, kissed and licked–utterly ravished, totally loved. And Danny returned that same devotion once he managed to get Sam under him, his hair fanned out in the grass, the curve of his smile lit up by the moon, the soft sighs and keening moans from both of them turning into a song in the night.
“That was hot,” Sam proclaimed once they were standing again and getting dressed. He felt totally better–how silly he’d been, he thought while he watched Danny pull his shirt back over his head, how needlessly venomous. He was ready to stir that fire at camp back to full flame and sip a strong drink beneath the stars.
“Just us and the coyotes,” Danny remarked, peering out into the trees. He looked back at Sam, moving in closer. “But seriously–was this sufficient?”
Sam chuckled and grabbed a handful of Danny’s hair to tug. “Fuck yeah, it was sufficient, Daniel. I know I’m…a lot sometimes. I know jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.” He let Danny’s curls go and sighed. “But you just rile me up so goddamn much.”
Danny smiled. “I like that. I like that I do that. There’s just nothing to be jealous of–you gotta relax.” He took Sam’s hand. “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”
“You need to relax, too. There’s no one hunting you down. And even if someone were, I’d rip their head off before they got anywhere near you.”
“You would. You totally would, Sammy.”
Sam held Danny’s tight while they walked back to camp. If there were monsters out there in the black forest, he’d fight them off; whatever monstrous people existed in the world, he really wouldn’t let them get close to Danny, ever. Real monsters, Sam thought to himself while squeezing Danny’s hand, were the people who lived without a care in the world for what they did and what and who they hurt. Danny wasn’t like that at all–never was, never would be. One day, Sam would get his beloved vampire boyfriend to fully understand that, just as Danny had made him fully understand that Sam was the only person on earth for him. And Sam didn’t feel deserving–Danny was too good for him. Too pure, had too much integrity, too kind, too reasonable–Sam was a fire roaring wild and wicked, unable to be tamed. 
Or so he thought. Because in the great expanse of the woods and beneath the infinite expanse of the night sky, Sam realized that Danny had tamed him. Not because he wanted to or because he tried, but just because he was the balance Sam needed. They went together so fluidly that they were meant to be together. Sam had known that from day one. 
A lantern was still on inside the twins’ tent when Sam and Danny returned; Danny looked at Sam and asked, “Should we get them out?”
“Let’s do it,” Sam concurred, stepping over to the fire. It was still hanging on, the embers bright enough to stroke back to life. “Let’s get this party fucking started. Finally.”
Before he went to the tent, Danny went to him and planted a fierce kiss on his lips while his hands gripped his hips, sinking his teeth into Sam’s full bottom lip–just enough for Sam to whimper and a little blood to soak Danny’s tongue.
“I just wanted a little taste,” Danny told him when he pulled back, licking his lips while he wiped the blood away from Sam’s with his thumb. “Something to get me through the night.”
Sam giggled. “I like it when you’re naughty.” He reached around and smacked Danny’s ass, which made him yelp in surprise. “But you know I can be even more naughty.”
Danny laughed. “It’s not a competition.”
Sam squeezed the muscle and flesh in his hand–all his, every part of Danny. “Everything is a competition, Daniel.” 
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cloudmakr · 9 months ago
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Going on a little haterade rant about south park snow day here 😋
I'm NOT excited for this game. There are MANY reasons.
Graphics
The argument for 2d graphics is overworked, but a lot of people have that opinion FOR A REASON! South Park creators have tried (and SWORN off) 3d games before, which all regarded lukewarm attention from most fans, especially those who love the simplicity of the original construction paper feel (aka me). It's just disappointing to see the studio reach for ANOTHER 3d game despite ALL of the past failures, and it's clear that it wasn't well thought through. The mouths and eyes have serious "early pokemon games" energy, with no thoughts behind them and a sticker-like feel, and the hair texture for some characters (like Clyde) is just abysmal. It's clear in some frames that the animators tried to make it look choppy like the 2d we all know and love, but it just looks a little lazy and not well thought out in my opinion. The shading makes everything look cast in shadows, which could have been a conscious choice, if it weren't for how muddy the colors and shapes become. It almost looks like it was made in the 2010s. Overall, it just seems like a terrible choice when all three of the last relevant South Park games were made (beautifully) in 2d.
Story
I'm a complete sucker for all things South Park, which you know if you have seen my page, like, ever, but even so, I just don't feel compelled by the story as much as I was by other games (this is coming from someone that really didn't mind the pip episode). Personally, the moment when I heard Prof Chao's evil monologue at the end of TFBW, I couldn't wait for a sequel about being a minion of chaos! But this…just is disappointing at best. I understand that this might not be a direct predecessor to SoT and TFBW, but I wish they would make that game before creating a whole new one in a different direction! The whole game (as far as I can tell) is based around just going to stans house? And in general just doesn't feel fleshed out enough to be as enjoyable. I think it would be really incredibly hard to work in the same charm and excitement that came from cut scenes and (even small bits of) interactable characters in both other games. Which were one of my favorite parts. I feel like going on missions and following a long plot with all of the kids was what made it really outstanding, and characters personalities, flaws, and humor really got to shine through with the old format! A trouble I really have with the storyline is the multiplayer aspect, and I just pray to the almighty Comedy Central Gods that they make up some excuse for having multiple new kids, but even so, having a game where YOU are set as the SOLE new kid gave opportunities and amazing moments to the story of the original two.
There are more gripes I have with this game but I don't want to be rude to the creators, who I think have a great idea! (For maybe a mobile game made after a TFBW sequel). In general, I just feel really uneasy about this, and hope they come out with another 2d game soon.
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moonchildstyles · 2 years ago
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l'amoureux
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weddings are beautiful, especially in Paris, but as the bride's personal assistant, y/n didn't expect to lose herself in the magic.
wordcount: 11k
—————
"(Y/N), I think I'm going to lose it." 
Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) tried to center herself before turning on her heel to face Priscilla. Finding her boss with the perfectly creamy and embellished bridal veil in hand, she could only imagine what kind of imperfections Priscilla believed she found in the accessory. 
"What happened?" (Y/N) chirped, the feigned pleasantry coming as second nature at this point with how hellish these last nine months have been.
Holding up the veil with the sparkling adornments facing her, Priscilla's hands were shaking. (Y/N) couldn't tell if it was the three cups of coffee she made herself before they'd even left the villa for breakfast or if Priscilla was three seconds away from a legendary tantrum. 
"I think they gave me honey pewter, and not the lavender pewter I asked for when I ordered," Priscilla rushed out, shaking the veil in (Y/N)'s face as if she could see the sparkles better if they were less focused, "Do you see that? That's going to throw off everything I had picked out for my bouquet!" 
"Hold on, let me see," (Y/N) indulged her, grabbing for the delicate veil before her boss could have a chance to rip it to shreds. Angling the crystals to the light, (Y/N) could see some warmth in the jewels, but she remembers specifically making the order for Priscilla and emphasizing how important it was that the crystals lean on the cool tone (it was easier for both (Y/N) and the bridal shop to just do it this way, no matter if Priscilla was difficult during the entire process). There was no way this could have slipped by, especially with the amount of email updates (Y/N) requested for Priscilla throughout the entire making of her veil. 
Pulling out her phone and swiping into her professional email, (Y/N) found the initial conversation with the bridal boutique owner, all the details of the order spelled out plainly before being verified by the owner. Inside the same thread, photos had been sent with very clearly lavender hued jewels stitched to the tulle inbetween the romantic pearls. Examining the photos further, (Y/N) couldn't help but notice that, aside from the crystals and pearls, this veil looked nothing like the photos she had received. 
Priscilla's veil was supposed to have a subtle sheen to the fabric, chosen for the express purpose of emulating the way the Eiffel Tower sparkled at night which was exactly where she wanted to have her bridal shoot the day before the actual wedding. Minimal lace detailing was meant to border the entire hem, matching the delicate bodice of the gown Priscilla planned to wear during the ceremony. The veil in her hand had none of that, something she was surprised her boss hadn't picked up on, but was grateful for nonetheless. 
Peeking over her shoulder, Priscilla was busy with her daughter, Lenore, as the toddler walked her around the room, pointing at every tiara and ivory gown the tiny boutique offered. At least she could count on baby Nora babysitting her mother when (Y/N) couldn't. With her boss distracted, (Y/N) went on her mission to find the salesgirl she'd just had a choppy, half-French, half-English conversation with. 
"Ex-Excuse me?" (Y/N) muttered as quiet as possible before the girl could disappear behind a curtain taking her to the back. 
"Oui?" she chirped, petite blonde brows raised. 
Holding up both the veil and her phone, (Y/N) did her best to remember the two semesters of French she took in high school. "Le... Le voile? It's not... It's non, not right," she struggled through, pulling up the string of photographs of the correct veil on her phone in her other hand, "We need this one." 
She watched as the salesgirl looked back and forth between the photos and the veil in her hand. "Comment tu t'appelles?" 
"Um—its for Priscilla King?" Despite the fact she knew she couldn't butcher Priscilla's name like the French she didn't know, (Y/N) didn't feel confident saying much of anything right now. 
"May I?" the girl asked in accented English, gesturing to the veil in (Y/N)'s hand. 
After offering it up, (Y/N) watched as the salesgirl's eyes immediately dropped to the ticket looped around the comb attached to the veil. It only took a moment for the girl to turn the ticket around, displaying a completely different name on the tag.
They gave her the wrong veil. 
"Je suis vraiment désolé," the girl bubbled off, muttering out something about bringing the right one before holding up one finger and disappearing passed the curtain.
(Y/N) let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. 
Priscilla had been a nightmare as soon as the real wedding planning started a year ago when she found out it was more than just looking at wedding magazines and telling her wedding planner what her budget was (there wasn't one). But, in the last few months especially, she had escalated into a territory that made even her fiancé cower when she was in one of her moods, and Nate was one of the most firm and level-headed guys (Y/N)'d ever met (he really had to be if he was going to be with Priscilla at all). And, unfortunately for (Y/N), since she was Priscilla's full-time personal assistant and part-time nanny, she got the brunt of it all. 
At least with this, she wasn't going to get her head ripped off, unliked when they found out the venue had accidentally ordered one case less of the very specific champagne Priscilla insisted on serving. That had been one that even had Nora asking why her mom's face was turning so red over some bubbly water. 
Stepping towards the case of the something blue's the bridal shop offered, (Y/N) caught Nora's attention first before her mom shot her a panicked glance when she noticed there was no veil in sight. 
"Everything's okay," (Y/N) shot off before her boss could say a thing, "They brought us the wrong veil on accident, but I showed her the pictures and emails, and she's getting yours right now." 
"So, no honey pewter?"
"Nope. And, there's going to be lace trimming." 
"Oh, thank god," Priscilla exasperated, looking much too relieved over this simple of an inconvenience. "(Y/N), I don't know what I would do without you; I'd probably lose my mind." 
(Y/N) refrained from telling her she most likely already did long before (Y/N) entered the picture. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and hoped they would make it back to the villa in time to take a nap before she would be on Nora duty while Priscilla and Nate had a final meeting with their wedding planner before guests started pouring in tomorrow for the start of the three day long celebration leading up to the actual wedding on Friday. 
"You know I'm always happy to help." 
————— (Y/N) sighed as she stood outside of the banquet hall's bathroom. As soon as the guests started pouring into Paris this morning, she had been on Nora duty while Priscilla and Nate ran around with the wedding planner, leaving her to entertain the toddler for hours. Now, she was left exhausted as she lent against the elaborately carved wall of the hall, watching as the bride and groom welcomed their guests in before a dinner and cocktail hour would be served to kick off the next couple days worth of celebration. 
"Nora, sweetie," (Y/N) called, turning to face the heavy wooden door to the restroom, "do you need help?" It'd been longer than five minutes, which was cause for concern for the easily distracted Nora. 
"No, I'm just wiping!" Nora chirped through the door, much too loud given the echo provided by the looming hallway of the banquet hall. (Honestly, the space was basically a cathedral, as far as (Y/N) was concerned. Stained glass windows were placed high on the intricate walls, tinting the vaulted ceilings in shattered hues. This place was much more than a banquet hall, especially if the deposit for one night was anything to go by). 
The sound of a huffed chuckle came from behind (Y/N), the laugh getting her to instinctively turn on her heel. She had an apology poised on her lips, a reciprocating smile that said "kids, right?", but as soon as she caught who was behind her, she stopped a breath short with her lungs stunted. 
Dressed in a raspberry blazer, gold accents stitched through the seams with curling brown hair held back only by a pair of large sunglasses, was Harry Styles. 
Harry actual Styles. In real life. 
(Y/N) didn't have a chance as soon as she caught sight of that curving smile, dimples and all, as he advanced down the hall to the men's bathroom just to the side of her. She was sure she looked like a guppy with the way she gaped her mouth open as if to say something before snapping it closed. 
Sucking in a deep breath, the air coming in prickles through her throat, she did her best to form a coherent thought. "Sorry, she's just..." (Y/N) breathed out, an absent smile plucking at the corners of her lips as he came closer. He really did have the smallest group of freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose. 
"'S alright, it was funny," he told her, voice deep and rich. It was familiar to her—at least as familiar as a voice could be when only previously heard through a pair of headphones or a speaker. 
With that, he slipped around her. A polite, lopsided smile was on his lips, as he disappeared into the restroom. 
(Y/N) stood in shock, watching at the bathroom door closed heavily behind him, only a flash of the blazer and the flare of his pants seen before he was gone. 
That was Harry Styles. 
What was Harry Styles doing in Paris? What was he doing at this venue in Paris? Priscilla and Nate had rented out the whole space for the entire night, so no one outside of previously RSVP'd wedding guests should be here. 
There was no way he had been invited to the wedding, though, right? Priscilla surely would have mentioned if she knew Harry Styles at all, let alone well enough to invite him to her one-hundred dollar per plate, per course, per person wedding. Right?
(Y/N) even helped her mail out invites and had passed along the final seating chart to the wedding planner, she couldn't have missed a name like his, right? 
Just then, Nora popped out of the bathroom, tiny fingers grabbing for (Y/N)'s hand before (Y/N) had even noticed she was there. 
"I'm ready now," Nora chirped, already tugging (Y/N) back to where the bride and groom were shaking hands and hugging guests, welcoming them into the space. 
Though her brain was still a bit rattled (she had literally been listening to his music just this morning as she got ready and now she was sharing the same air as him), (Y/N) escorted Nora through the fray of guests until they had reached her mom and dad by the entrance. 
"There you are!" Priscilla beamed as soon as she saw her daughter, reaching her arms out to pick Nora up and sit her on her hip. "Got everything taken care of, Nori?" 
"Yeah, now I have room for dinner," Nora smiled, nothing short of proud of her accomplishments in the bathroom. 
Priscilla only laughed along with the guests that were slowly shuffling through the entrance that had caught the exchange, bouncing her daughter on her hip before turning to (Y/N). As soon as she caught sight of her assistant's face, the dark arches of her brows came together in a pinch. 
"Is everything okay, (Y/N)?" she asked, stepping out of line and letting Nate field all of their relatives and friends for a moment. 
(Y/N) floundered as she tried to find her voice, her mouth suddenly dry as the memory of him was brought to the forefront of her mind. "I think... I just saw Harry Styles by the bathrooms." 
"Oh, is he here already? I don't remember saying hi." With Nora hooked over her hip, Priscilla stood on the toes of her heels, eyes scanning over the hall in search of the head of brown curls (Y/N) could probably point out from memory.
"You know him? He's really here for the wedding?" (Y/N) questioned, trying to keep her jaw from dropping. 
"Kind of," she shrugged, dropping her search to match (Y/N)'s wide gaze, "Nate knows him better than I do, but yeah. His firm reps Harry, but they don't see each other too often. It's mostly through his manager, but Harry's always friendly and super kind when he comes in; he's so good at remembering the weirdest things Nate mentions in passing. We decided to invite both of them." 
(Y/N) didn't want to admit that she knew exactly who Harry's manager was and was excited at the thought of Jeff also being in attendance of the wedding. 
"I can't believe you've never told me," (Y/N) gaped, "You've heard me listening to his stuff all the time, and you never said anything. I helped with the seating chart and I didn't even notice his name!" 
A soft smile worked its way onto Priscilla's lips. "I know, I thought that was weird, but I figured you'd find out soon enough. You should talk to him more; he's really nice, (Y/N)." 
"I can't talk to him," (Y/N) immediately shut her down, remembered the way she looked at him like a guppy during the whole two second interaction by the restrooms. A wonderful first impression. 
"Why not?" Priscilla pressed, painting a bright smile over her face when one of her relatives skated passed their conversation.
"He's Harry Styles, I can't talk to him," she reasoned though it sounded silly out loud. That thought was only reaffirmed when Priscilla gave her an arched brow and a quirked smile. 
"Whatever, (Y/N)," Priscilla sighed with affection for her assistant, "We'll be here for a few days, so I doubt you'll be able to avoid him much, but I'm excited to see you try." 
Shaking her head, a short smile tugged on (Y/N)'s lips. "You want to see me suffer." 
"No, I would never," Priscilla waved off, "Nora likes you too much for me to torture you. But I enjoy seeing you torture yourself over silly things like this." 
Before (Y/N) could give any kind of smart remark back, Nate beckoned Priscilla back to the fray, where an elderly couple (Y/N) remembers as Nate's great-aunt and uncle was waiting to greet the bride. Priscilla gave them a wave before turning to (Y/N) one last time, something wicked turning the very corner of her mouth. 
"Have fun." 
With that, she walked back to join her groom, Nora on her hip waving to (Y/N) over her mom's shoulder. 
—————
"This way, this way, s'il vous plaît!" 
Tearing her eyes from the Degas painting hung up high on the gallery wall, (Y/N) followed the guide that was touring their group through the Louvre. With Priscilla, Nate, and Nora spending the day with their families before the craziness of the pre-wedding shoot tomorrow and the big day on Friday, (Y/N) was given somewhat of a day off of all her duties. After forwarding Priscilla everything she might need while filling out some of the marriage paperwork that went along with having an abroad wedding, she was left to either go on the wine tasting at one of the beautiful vineyards outside of Paris, or on a guided tour of the Louvre—both booked and paid for by the bride and groom so their guests can enjoy a taste of Paris as a thank you for spending their special day with them. As much as (Y/N) would have loved to get a little day drunk at a French vineyard, she didn't trust that she wouldn't be on Nora duty later in the evening. Instead, she packed herself onto the shuttles with some of Nate and Pricilla's family and friends that would take them to the art museum. 
Now, almost an hour into the tour, (Y/N) wished there wasn't a guide telling her when to move on from each room and where to go next. Of course each room was teeming with people just as excited to see the classics as she was, but that didn't diminish any of the magic she felt staring at the pieces, a tiny plaque next to them detailing out the title and materials used with a famous artist's name attached. She was currently entranced with the Degas paintings of all the tutu clad ballerinas—dramatic in the value but tender in each stroke—and didn't want to go before she had a chance to get a look at each and pretend she was there in the opera house watching those girls perform. 
But, as she had found during the beginning of the tour, the guide wasn't going to leave without all members of the group with them. He would stand at the threshold of the next room, mega-watt smile on his face as he waved his little orange flag above his head, beckoning the group to come this way, this way! It was easier on everyone if she said her quiet goodbyes to her favorite pieces with a lingering glance and a photo on her phone before joining her group. 
Before she could pout any at the loss of the Degas paintings, the guide directed everyone with a bright smile into the next long hallway. In here, marble statues and sculptures were dotted around the space, standing proud and glimmering in the sunlight filtering through the open windows. The space was otherwise sparse, leaving all attention onto the legendary figures planted across the room. Though she heard the tour guide spouting off facts and details about how important these statues were, how they came to be in the Louvre's possession, and some of the techniques that helped them come to be, (Y/N) didn't hear anything coherent. She was too busy trying to keep her jaw from dropping. 
How could anyone manage—especially with tools that weren't anywhere near as advanced as what was at an artist's disposal now—to make stone appear soft and pliable, full of curves and gentle give? Nothing was as breathtaking as seeing the hand of a sculpted man holding his lover by the thigh, his fingertips denting deep against her flesh, only to be reminded from the glimmer from the sunlight, that this was nothing more than stone manipulated to mimic human skin. 
As soon as she heard the guide announce in his accented English that the group was free to roam around the hall, take photos and explore the pieces, she all but bound away from the group. She made a beeline towards the statue that caught her eye the second they slipped into the room. 
Large, sprawling wings sprouting from Cupid's back almost looked large enough they could graze the ceiling as the marble swooped down in the shape of a muscled arm as he cradled his lover. Pysche was wrapped in nothing more than a sheet, the marble somehow looking thin and delicate like the silk that was meant to be draped over her waist in a cradling hold. Cupid held her gently as he craned his neck, trying to reach her lips and revive her with a kiss as the title of the piece suggested. They were trapped in that one moment, not close enough to share their kiss, but just near enough (Y/N) could see and feel the anticipation shared between the two mythological figures. 
"'S crazy, isn't it?" 
The same deep voice that made her breath catch not more than twenty-four hours prior brought (Y/N) back to the real world in the middle of the museum. Whipping her head to the side, she saw Harry Styles once again sharing the hall with her. 
He wore wide legged jeans with holes over the knees and a faded, vintage looking t-shirt with bunnies graphically printed along the bottom hem. A brown tortoise clip disrupted the flow of the line of rabbits as it was pinned to the bottom as well, bunching the fabric enough to reveal the waistline of his Gucci branded pants. The same large sunglasses she had seen him with last were perched on the top of his head, holding back the iconic brown curls he was known for. 
"What?" she asked, the sound of her blood pumping past her ears having drowned out everything he had to say the second she realized who he was. 
"The sculpture," he smiled, nodding ahead to the marble gods, "'S crazy people can look so real when they're made out of stone like that. Even the blanket she's wearing looks like 's about to float away, even though 'm sure 's easily over a hundred pounds." 
"Oh," she chirped, clearing her gaze with a blink before she turned back to face the sculpture that had captured his attention. Neurons fired in her brain, pushing her to find something to say that wasn't about how much she loved him or oh my god, you're Harry Styles, what are you doing out of my phone screen?! "Y-Yeah, definitely. I've always thought it was interesting the way these people were able to make rocks look so soft. I don't understand how, but I like looking at it." 
A dimple dented his cheek, that much (Y/N) could see from the corner of her eye. His arms crossed over his chest made him appear even broader than photos granted, even as he shifted his weight on long legs that toed at the ground with a hip pushed outwards. "I know what y'mean. I've tried painting something like this a few times, and I can't even get something that's actually soft to look the way this marble does. I don't think 's real; we're not supposed to touch, only because if we do, we'll find out 's all actually made out of sponges or something." 
A smile quirked (Y/N)'s own lips at his joking, a stifled laugh exhaling from her nose so as to not disrupt the quiet that filled the hall. "I think you might be on to something," she told him, exaggeratedly looking around the hall as if trying to spot eavesdroppers, "I'd be careful with that information, if I were you." 
A peek of his white teeth appeared from between his raspberry lips as he nodded to her joke, leaning into the secrecy they were creating over the subject. A short silence fell between them as they resumed looking at the sculpture, (Y/N) peeking at the plaque beside the statue though she couldn't comprehend anything knowing who was standing beside her. 
"You're friends with Nathan and Priscilla, right?" Harry asked, side-stepping into her space though he crooked his head, making it apparent he was looking over her shoulder at the plaque. 
"Yeah, I guess" she mused, impressing herself by how normal she was appearing through this conversation despite the rattling of her heart in her ribcage. "I'm Priscilla's personal assistant, and sometimes nanny for Nora. We're basically family at this point." 
"Oh, so you're (Y/N), then." Harry pulled his attention from the sculpture, looking to her with a bright smile and something like recognition going through his gaze as he trailed his eyes over her face, placing her for the first time. 
"I am, yeah," she smiled back, feeling her skin warm at the fact Harry Styles knew her name and had some idea of her existence. 
"Nathan's mentioned you a few times. Supposedly, y'keep Priscilla's head attached to the rest of her, and keep her from biting off Nate's when she's had a day." She couldn't help but think he sounded almost impressed. If only he knew what it was like to work with Priscilla day in and out, then he really would be impressed. 
"I wouldn't say that...," she trailed off, feeling a little too proud to completely deny the hard work that went into her job. "Nate's very good at calming her down, too. So is Nora. I'm just the first one she goes to with her problems." 
"See? That says it all," he pressed, dimples denting his tanned cheeks, "If y'weren't so good to her, she wouldn't go to you before finding Nathan." 
She liked when he said it like that. It made her feel important, even if she was nothing more than a little speck in Priscilla's grand life. 
"I guess so," she whispered.
Flicking his gaze from the statue back to where she stood beside him, he offered his name in a low voice: "'M Harry, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself even after I creepily guessed your name." 
The loud laugh that bubbled out of her chest had little to do with the joke he tacked on the edge of his introduction, and more to do with the fact Harry Styles had just offered out his name as if she was one of the point-two percent of people in the world who wouldn't already know who he was. He was just as polite as all the twitter threads and articles suggested. 
"Nice to meet you, Harry," she reciprocated, trying her best to keep her face from warming the longer she looked at him. His nose really was just as perfect in person as she'd seen in photos. 
If she looked at him long enough, pretty features on a broad body hidden under soft tufts of clothing, (Y/N) could see him blending in with the perfect statues around them. Fluffed spikes of marble would emulate the curls on the top of his head, hard corners carved from the stone would be the only thing could could accurately display the quiet strength in his form. Even the length of his pink shoelaces wound through his worn Vans could be perfectly carved from small strips of marble. He would blend right in with Cupid himself, only missing a pair of fair wings drawing from his back. 
Before their conversation could go any further, (Y/N) was broken out of her stupor at the sound of the accented English of their gallery guide calling for everyone to reconvene at the other end of the hall. She swore Harry's gaze lingered over her for just one extra moment before he followed her eye towards where that same little flag that was being waved over their guide's head as their group was directed "this way! this way, s'il vous plaît!".
It was an unspoken moment as they fell into step with one another going towards the threshold to whatever was next on the agenda, (Y/N)'s strides much slower as to match Harry's that was lingering despite the length of his legs. 
"Bummer, right?" he offered in a quiet tone as they were still steps behind the last stragglers of their group. 
"Hm?" 
"I was hoping he'd let us stay in here a little while longer. I was having fun," he told her, the curl on his lips just as secret as his muted tone. 
"Maybe he'll let us roam around on our own at the end, and you can come back," she told him, trying to rein in her hammering pulse from the way he seemed to be sharing something secret with her. 
"And, you'll come with me, right?" 
(Y/N) didn't have a hope in the world to stop her rattling heart and stunted lungs at his request. 
"Of course," she said in a pitched tone, heart racing too fast to listen to anything their guide was saying as their group was directed towards the next room, "I wasn't done looking at them, anyway." 
Harry ignored the hooked thumb she threw over her shoulder in the direction of the couple of myths suspended in marble they had spend their time in front of. Instead he had his gaze pinned on hers, seemingly ignoring everything else.
 "Me neither." 
—————
(Y/N) was relieved as she stood behind the line of the camera, watching as Priscilla posed and primped in front of the lens. The Eiffel Tower stood in the background, large and just as romantic as Priscilla had gushed over the second she pitched the idea of a bridal shoot in front of the landmark. With the right editing, the phots were going to look dreamy and worthy of being splayed across bridal magazines for the next decade, at least. 
Plus, when she was busy being pampered over, Priscilla didn't have time to continue the inquisition she had started the second (Y/N) climbed into the taxi that morning. 
Somehow, word had gotten back to Priscilla that Harry Styles and her assistant had spent almost all of the tour of the Louvre together, giggling and whispering over quiet jokes and fonding over the same art pieces. And according to Priscilla, that meant they were in love and had been keeping the secret from her. 
That's why (Y/N) treasured this reprieve behind the scenes, stepping back whenever a makeup artist came by to touch up the powder under her boss's eyes or a hairstylist perfected the waves that rippled her dark hair. She didn't need Priscilla feeding into the crush that was beginning to take ahold of (Y/N)'s heartstrings every time she thought of how she spent her time the day before. 
That is until her name was shouted across the set. A flash of Priscilla's dark hair was all could be scene as she disappeared into the impromptu changing stall that had been set up by the team hired to perfect the shoot. 
(Y/N) sighed before resigning herself to standing outside the stall while Priscilla shouted to her through the sheet, asking for more details of the 'date' she had been on the day before.
"Yes?" she called to her boss once she was on the other side of the familiar stall while Priscilla was helped into her second wedding dress (she had three looks all together that would be shown during the big day, and she wanted to make sure she had wonderful pictures of each of her gowns). 
"Tell me what happened in the sculpture room again," Pricilla demanded, "I want to know exactly what he said. And how he said it. And where he was looking when he said it." 
Remembering the way Harry had stood beside her, admiring Cupid and his love (which she later found ironic considering he had a role acting as his own version of the god) brought a shiver to her heart. The sound of his voice dropping next to her ear was vivid enough in her memory that she couldn't believe Priscilla hadn't already heard it with the way it echoed in her head. 
Still, even with her hammering heart and uneven filling of her lungs, (Y/N) shrugged. "I've already told you everything he said. We talked about the sculpture and then how I knew you and Nate." 
"And that was what had him following you through the rest of the museum?" Her tone was incredulous, (Y/N) not needing to see Priscilla's face to know how scrunched and petulant her features probably were. The spitting image of Nora when she was having a tantrum. 
"I guess so." 
A loud groan could be heard alongside the sound of a zipper lacing together. "C'mon, (Y/N)! Give me something fun!" she called, "It's my wedding week, and this is how you treat me? Not giving me even a little crumb of what it was like flirting with him in the middle of Paris?" 
"That's because we didn't flirt, Pris. We talked about paintings." 
Drawing the curtain aside in a harsh pull, Priscilla was unveiled in her second dress of the day, this one large and tulle filled with sheer panels on the bodice. Despite being dressed like an angel, the grump on her face was the perfect juxtaposition that described her boss. 
"Then why did Nate tell me his cousin saw you two huddled away while everyone else was looking at the Mona Lisa?" 
(Y/N) tried to recall when they had even visited the Mona Lisa, but every memory after the sculpture hall was more focused on Harry than anything else. She couldn't help but see him in every billowing piece of art, abstract or realistic. 
"Oh my god," her boss chirped, features lighting up at something (Y/N) must have missed. 
"What?" (Y/N) asked, about to look over her shoulder. Maybe the Tower had sparkled to life early? 
"You made a face!" Priscilla bubbled, reaching for (Y/N)'s shoulders before giving her a little shake, "That's what I was looking for! You don't even remember seeing the Mona Lisa, do you? You were too distracted by your new boyfriend." 
"He's not my boyfriend—I don't even have his number, or anything." 
"But you were distracted with him, weren't you?" The silence (Y/N) offered was enough to have Priscilla rocketing with glee. "I knew it!" she beamed, clasping her hands together with her manicured nails gleaming in the French sunset, "Are you going to dance with him tomorrow? I can change the seating chart with Adelina and make it so you're seated together for dinner if you want. Oh my god, I cannot wait to tell Nate 'I told him so' when he finds out you're seeing Harry." 
(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at the miles and miles ahead of herself Priscilla was getting. "I don't think you can tell Nate anything considering the only place I'm 'seeing' Harry is at your wedding tomorrow." 
"Exactly," she cemented, trailing over to where the photographer was calling to his muse to resume her posing, "You should be thanking me for getting you a date to the wedding. So last minute, too." 
Before (Y/N) could offer any kind of retort, Priscilla slipped into the same thing that had earned her her fortune in the first place—modeling. (Y/N) could only stand behind the photographer and the line of lighting equipment, stewing in the heat that reached her cheeks at the idea Pricilla put in her head of dancing with Harry tomorrow at the reception. 
Sure, maybe he would say hi at the ceremony tomorrow, but she couldn't see herself as being more than someone to spend the tour of the Louvre with, to him. Even if the idea of knocking elbows with him on accident while they ate dinner got her heart bubbling with a rush of blood through her body. 
Paris was perfect for dreams, lovely romantic ones especially, but there was no reason to think Harry Styles was going to be anything more than a perfect addition to those dreams. 
—————
"Why aren't you in your white dress?" 
(Y/N) tucked Nora in front of her as staff from the venue rushed passed them through the hall, arms laden with bouquets of flowers Priscilla was sure to through a fit over if she saw they still weren't set up. In front of her, Nora almost tripped over herself as she looked over her shoulder at (Y/N), a fluffy lavender dress on her toddling form.
 "Your mom is the only one who gets to wear white today, remember?" (Y/N) prompted, pulling Nora to walk again at her side with her hand outstretched for the little girl to wrap her palm around her fingers, "She's the one getting married, so she gets the special dress." 
"Oh," Nora sounded, bright blue eyes shuttered by an owlish blink. "When are you getting married, then? Are you going to wear white, too?"
Despite having started coming around just when Nora was getting into her curious phase, non-stop questions flooding from her mouth with little filter, (Y/N) never tired of her prodding. Drawing her into one of the many private rooms attached to the venue where Nate's and Priscilla's families were gathering before joining the main hall before the ceremony, (Y/N) tried to figure out how to explain to the toddler there wasn't a wedding of hers that needed to be worried about.
"I'd have to trick someone into marrying me first before I have those answers for you, sweetie," (Y/N) joked with a soft laugh, a tease that went right over Nora's head as she looked up at her with her Bambi eyes. 
"Why would you trick someone like that?" 
(Y/N) stammered, mouth dropping into a guppy gape as she tried to talk her way out of a bad joke to tell to a toddler. "I—It was..... You're right, Nori," she relented, walking to where the little girl's maternal grandmother was waiting with a bright smile on her face at the sight of her granddaughter, "That would be mean of me." 
"Yeah. My mommy told me you have a boyfriend too, so it would be mean to trick someone else into marrying you when I'm sure he would want to marry you." 
Priscilla was lucky she wasn't here, otherwise she could be getting a glare full of daggers for telling Lenore something as silly as that, especially knowing who Priscilla was telling the toddler was the boyfriend in question. 
Before (Y/N) could say anything to dispute the case, she passed Nora off to her grandma. As she fielded questions about Priscilla's state the morning of the big day, (Y/N) decided she would have to wait on gently scolding her boss until after the ceremony at the very least. 
—————
(Y/N) did her best to keep her tears at bay as she watched Priscilla and Nate exchange vows, Nora sat in her lap with her eyes pinned to her mom and dad finally marrying after hearing about this impending wedding for two years (though (Y/N) was sure she could only really recall the last year's worth of memories with Priscilla running around frantic and Nate following in an apologetic wake). Vials of sand that represented each family member were now swirled together in a jar beside the officiant, symbolizing the union of their entire family through this marriage, one that couldn't be separated. The weather was perfect out in the vineyard Priscilla snagged a year and a half in advance of the date, just warm enough so she could blame the heat covering her skin on the sun and not the lump forming in her throat. 
As hard of a time as she gave Priscilla and the chaos that had filled her work for the last year, her boss was one of the closest people in her life. Seeing Priscilla so happy with someone like Nate—her perfect counterpart—, being married in the most beautiful place, her dream wedding come to life, was enough to have (Y/N)'s eyes sopping with unshed tears. 
Watching them be announced husband and wife, Nora joining them on their descent back down the flower petal studded aisle, (Y/N) finally allowed her tears to fall. Her eyes followed them along with the rest of the guests as the little family disappeared inside the winery. Gentle instrumental music struck up before ushers made their appearance and began herding the guests to the east side of the rustically French building, ivy and lavender sprigs clinging to the siding that would be the backdrop for the cocktail hour that would commence while Priscilla and Nate reveled in the newly married bliss and took a few photos before the reception started. 
These moments were the hardest part about going to family events with Priscilla: the mingling. As familiar as she became with certain figures in her boss's life, it wasn't like these were her family and friends. Her closest friends in this whole ordeal were tucked away in the bridal suite while (Y/N) was left to snack on cucumber sandwiches and tiny flutes of wine, lingering by the side of the winery while pretending to clack away on her phone. Here and there, familiar faces greeted her, chatting about the beautiful ceremony and how cute it was for her to keep ahold of Nora while her parents were busy otherwise. (Y/N) of course thanked everyone, reiterating that the ceremony was very beautiful, yes, Priscilla's dress was gorgeous, wasn't it?, and the menu for dinner sounded better and better the longer they stood out in the Parisian countryside. As soon as the dead air appeared, they would share goodbyes and chat with you later! before heading off to another group of people to share the time with. 
Of course, this was the one hour during the entire week that Priscilla wasn't in dire need of her, leaving her to her own devices as she read the same three emails over and over to busy herself. 
Until, of course, her name was called from one of the small cocktail tables a few feet over, a head of brown curls popping up over the crowd as she searched for her caller. A ringed hand waved to her just as one of Pricilla's college roommates moved out of the way, a giggling whisper shared with whoever it was that was at her side when the woman caught sight of who she was blocking. 
Harry, clad in a creamy white suit (he was very lucky Priscilla hadn't caught him, otherwise that ensemble would have been stained red with wine or something even harder to get out of the fabric) with a bright smile on his face, dimples deep in his cheeks, as he called to her. At his side was Jeffery Azoff, who (Y/N) was almost as excited to see in person as she was when she met Harry himself. He beckoned her to him with a wave of his hand, green nails sparkling in the golden hour sunlight. 
"Hey, you," he greeted her, a grin with his two front bunny-like teeth on display, "Been waiting for m'turn to talk to you since the ceremony ended." 
(Y/N) couldn't contain the smile that spread over her lips at his words, his eyes pinned to her with the full of his attention, the same way everyone always described when meeting Harry Styles. No distraction could pull his attention from someone he deemed worthy of it. "Really?" she asked, hoping he didn't pick up on the dreamy quality of her tone. 
"Yeah, was jus' telling Jeff all about all the fun we had with Jean-Pierre the other day," he teased, the green of his eyes glimmering with inside jokes they had tittered over in the marble halls. 
"He hasn't shut up about it for the past forty-eight hours, actually," Jeff chuffed, mirth in his eyes as he glanced at his friend, sipping from his wine, "I was hoping you could take him off my hands. At least you'd get all the jokes he's telling." 
"I don't know," (Y/N) shrugged, tension releasing from her muscles as she folded her arms over the surface of the table, "I don't get half the jokes he tells, either." 
Feigned offense piqued on Harry's features as he looked between them, mouth dropping open though he couldn't quite erase the slight curl on the corner of his mouth. With the single strand of hair that fell over his forehead, he looked entirely too dreamy in the middle of the French countryside. Once again, (Y/N) found herself grateful over the fact Priscilla hadn't caught him in his ivory ensemble—having a deep red wine stain on his suit would surely ruin the effect.
"Heyyy," he whined, a pouting crease forming between his pinched brows, "That's mean." 
"You've told the same jokes for the entire time I've known you, H," Jeff pressed, a fond smile on his face as he gazed at his friend though he didn't stop his teasing, "and every time you tell them, I still don't get it." 
Before Harry could interject any more pouting, (Y/N) chirped up with a matching quirk to her lips. "Yeah, he did tell the same joke twice at the museum. A little bit of a repeater, he is." 
"Oh, not you, too," Harry whined, dropping his head to be right in her line of sight. His smile was a little too bright, dimples a little too deep, eyes a little too clear to be convincingly offended. "You're supposed to be on m'side, (Y/N)." 
The sound of her name wrapped in his voice was something that echoed in her head for the last forty-eight hours since she'd seen him. "I am, he just has some good points. Sorry, Harry," she told him, speaking low enough as if she was sharing a secret with only Harry. 
Over the swirls of curls on the top of his head, (Y/N) could see the way Jeff was eyeing the interaction before adverting his eyes with a smirk on his lips before they were hidden by a cup of wine. 
"Y'could make it up to me, you know," he murmured to her, his folded hands coming up to smush against his tanned cheek, altering the layout of the soft smattering of freckles on the center of his face. 
"How?" 
"Save a dance for me." 
(Y/N) felt her lashes tickle her brow bone with the way her eyes widened, rounding and softening as she processed his request. She was sure that if someone showed her a recap of this moment, she would look like a moony teenager setting eyes on her crush for the first time. 
Swallowing around her suddenly dry throat, (Y/N) nodded her head. "I-I can do that." 
The way his grin stretched across his lips and the smallest dusting of pink coloring touched at the tip of his nose, could have had (Y/N) on a stretcher if not for the interruption that came in the form of one of the venue's staff tapping on her shoulder. 
"Ms. (Y/N)," the staff member greeted her with a tight smile that did little to sully her accented English, "The new Mrs. Davies is requesting your presence very urgently up in the bridal suite. If you wouldn't mind excusing yourself, I can escort you up right away." 
"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, deflating some at the fact she was going to have to leave Harry so quickly, "Okay, yeah. Give me just a second." 
The staff member gave her a strained smile, but nonetheless took a step back. She felt for the girl, really; Priscilla was a piece of work when she wanted to be and (Y/N) had a feeling she was walking into something gruesome in that bridal suite. 
Turning back to Harry, (Y/N) jerked a half-hearted thumb over her shoulder. "It sounds like I'm needed, so..." 
She trailed off, not wanting to be the one to say bye. Harry seemed to feel the same as he ducked his head, obscuring her view of him with the cover of his hair. "I'll see you later, though, right?" he prompted her once he matched her gaze again, the blushing green peeking through the length of his lashes. 
"Definitely," she cemented, taking the first reluctant step away from the table. Though her eyes lingered on Harry, she made a point to divert her gaze to her new friend of the day. "It was nice to meet you, Jeff." 
"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)," he offered politely, a sly smile stitched to his features she had a feeling wasn't going to dissipate. 
With one final wave, (Y/N) was beckoned by the staffmember back to the winery, hasty steps having (Y/N) all but tripping over herself to keep up. Just before slipping through the doorway, she couldn't help but toss a glance over her shoulder, finding Harry with his arms crossed over the cocktail table, grapeleaf-green eyes pinned to her. It took a matching of his gaze and a punch to his shoulder from Jeff before Harry came to his senses. In the waning light, his already golden skin was amplified, but (Y/N) could still see the tint of pink that dotted his cheeks and touched at the tip of his nose.
—————
"Thank you," (Y/N) muttered as she left the kitchen with a lukewarm plate that held her dinner she should have eaten hours ago. 
Trudging through the reception hall, music drifting through the room with the raucous laughter of both tipsy and sober guests clashing against the melody, (Y/N) couldn't decide if her head was going to pop first or if her feet would give out before then. She knew that wearing these heels gifted by Priscilla for her last birthday, red-bottom and all, wasn't going to be the most comfortable and arch-supporting idea, but that had been before she knew she was going to be more of a planner than a guest to this event. 
While Priscilla was spending treasured moments with her husband, both behind the bridal suite doors prior to the reception and in the guest-filled banquet hall, (Y/N) was filling every role she could to help. Fussing over Priscilla was a given, so carting glasses of wine back and forth and directing the photographer on what shots her boss had specially requested be taken was something she had prepared to do. But, it was when Nora was passed off to her during Priscilla and Nate's first dance, and never quite passed back once the toddler started having too much fun at a grown-up's table, that (Y/N) knew she wasn't to have a moment to herself for the rest of the night. Just when she thought she was in for a slight reprieve when dinner was served, something she could enjoy while also taking care of Lenore, Adelina, the wedding planner, had pulled her to the side. (Apparently, there was something awry with the wedding cake, but Priscilla didn't need to know about it if everyone wanted to keep their heads). That was how she ended up passing Nora off to her grandparents and her first course back to the kitchen staff, asking them to keep it warm for her so she could have it later, after she dealt with the tiered spongecake that had melting buttercream and slouching fondant decorations. 
It seemed that one favor she did, signed her up to be Adelina's assistant for the rest of the evening—or at least until everything settled down with only drinks and snacks being enjoyed among the guests. She was kept busy with every minute detail that began to run off the rails, things that didn't need to be shared with Priscilla but were much too important to leave alone. Even the photographer, the ever careful Frenchman who had the fear of God in his eyes every time he looked at Priscilla, had asked for her opinion more than once with (Y/N) practically directing the day's photos by the time ten-thirty rolled around. 
That was something else that tugged her muscles down by the root and threatened to drop her through the floorboards if her exhaustion grew any heavier. One of the perks of this venue—and the hefty deposit Priscilla made on the space—was the lack of clear out time. Wine and food were just the things to persuade guests into lingering on the property, which is exactly what they did, especially when additional courses of finger foods and desserts were brought from the kitchen and the bottles of wine and champagne were endlessly supplied by the vineyard. Looking out onto the dance floor and the semi-full tables surrounding the space, (Y/N) didn't see an end in sight.
But, Nora had been taken back to the hotel and tucked into bed by Nate's parents, leaving at least one responsibility off her plate. The photographer seemed to find his footing the more he realized Priscilla preferred her left-side and would enjoy any photograph of she and Nate kissing. Adelina had calmed down the second most of the traditions of the wedding were filed through—the garter-toss was one of the most nerve-wracking moments for some reason—as guests began reclining and holding separate courts at all the tables and others dotted the dancefloor to indulge in wine-induced dance moves. Priscilla had even settled well as she slow-danced with Nate, especially after changing into her third and final dress for the event, the fringed hem dropping to the mid of her thigh and sparkling under the romantic lighting draped across the rafters. (Y/N) lingered, on-edge, for an extra half-an-hour before finally treating herself with the task of picking up her food from the kitchen and settling in one of the back tables that had been vacated as children's bedtime had approached. 
With a barely filled glass of red wine and a lukewarm plate of pasta in front of her, (Y/N) dared to slip her shoes off under the table before folding her legs underneath herself. 
She didn't even know how long she had been menially scooping up her food, not even tasting the fine ingredients and expensive spices or how well they paired with her given wine, too exhausted to really process much other than finally having some subsistence in her body. That was why she barely noticed the knock of someone's knees against the underside of the table as they slipped into the spot beside her, the gentle voice having to call her name twice before she perked up. 
"Sorry, what did you need he—Oh, Harry," she smiled, pleased to see him when she had been expecting another person that needed her help. 
"Hi," he greeted her, the word coming out breathy and merlot-tinted. That would explain his messy hair and glassy eyes. The flush that tinted his skin looked perfect with his suit.
"Hi," she reciprocated with a small smile, "Have you been enjoying the reception?" She had a feeling she knew the answer to that one.
Nonetheless, the floppy nod Harry gave her, curls skimming his forehead, still made her heart bounce. "A lot," he told her on a breathy laugh, before his expression turned sour with a downturn to his lips, "But, y'said y'would dance with me, and I've barely seen you. Had to dance with Nathan's great-aunt five different times just to feel something." 
(Y/N) choked on the sip of wine she had tossed back while he spoke, clapping her hand over her mouth as she fought to keep from spitting it out. Once she recovered, a choked bunch of air filling her lungs, she shook her head at him. "I'm sure you did feel something," she teased, twirling a meaningless bite of pasta around her fork, "she's practically in love with you. I heard her talking to Priscilla's cousin all about you and how she was somehow going to fit you in her pocket and take you back to the hotel with her." 
"I wouldn't put it past her," Harry started grimly, fully believing Aunt Rosie's besotted threat. 
"And, I wouldn't blame her," (Y/N) muttered, the words falling out before she had any clarity of mind to stop them. 
A brilliant smile woke up Harry's grapejuice softened features. "Really? Want to take me home in your pocket, too, then?" 
Caught, (Y/N) didn't have it in her to pull her eyes from her plate of food though she shrugged in response. "I don't have any pockets, so I'll have to fit you in my tote if that's alright." 
"I can work with that," Harry shot back immediately, sitting up in his chair before scooting closer to (Y/N), folded arms settling on the table. "Do y'have extra room at your hotel, or will I have to sleep on the floor?" 
Her face felt hot as she couldn't help but take his intoxicated flirting right to her heart. "I don't have lots of space, but I'm sure I could figure something out for you." 
He seemed all too pleased with her response, bunny-teeth trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. Unable to draw her gaze away from his mouth, the very middle of the pillows tinted plum from the wine, (Y/N) draped her eyes over the faint freckles dotting the pink skin. Cute. 
"If you're not too busy still, maybe I could redeem m'promised dance once things slow down again?" Harry's voice was only a whisper that hung in the air between them, almost drowned out by the loud laugh that originated somewhere on the dance floor. 
"Yeah, yeah," she rushed out on a breath, hoping Harry wouldn't notice how eager she was to agree incase it was just as embarrassing as it sounded, "I would really like that." 
She would think she would be used to the look of his bright smile by now, with the amount of times she'd been granted the sight throughout this week, but it still threaten to knock the breath out of her to have it directed at her. 
"I'll keep an ear out, then," Harry told her, leaning back in his chair with his gaze going to the dance floor, staying true to his word of keeping watch, "Y'finish eating, though, before someone has a chance to steal y'away again, saying they need help with the music again or something. Barely had a chance to eat tonight." 
A pinch collected between her brows as she canted her head to the side. "How did you know I had to help with the music?" 
Another heart-stopping smile worked its way on Harry's lips though he kept his gaze attached to the dance floor. "I've been paying attention to you all night, (Y/N)."
—————
(Y/N) perked up at the change in tempo that sounded from the front of the banquet hall, a handful of couples still occupying the space while others were retiring to tables as the night drew on. Priscilla and Nate seemed to be in their own world wrapped in each others arms with no sense of time. But, for the first time in the last twenty minutes, their slowdancing finally matched the song that filtered through the speakers. 
Dropping her fourth glass of wine onto the table, the alcohol sloshing dangerously close to the rim as she clumsily stood up. "Harry, Harry, hurry," she bubbled off as she fumbled to put her shoes back on her feet, "We can't miss this one." 
"Miss what?" he asked lamely from where he sat, mouth dropping to a gape as he looked up at her. 
"The song—listen! We missed the last, like, three slow songs I think. We can't leave until I make it up to you for teasing you earlier." 
Harry's memory seemed to come back together at the mention of the song, his ears all but physically perking up for the time since he dropped the ball on his job of keeping an ear out for a suitable song to pull (Y/N) to the floor with. "Oh, yeah," he blinked, standing up with his knees knocking the table in his haste, "Get your shoes on. Hurry."
"I am, I am," (Y/N) badgered him, squishing her toes into the silk covered shoes. 
As soon as she was upright on the stilts of her heels, she grabbed for Harry's hand and tugged him to the dance floor. The other couples made a small space for them to join, even if they were clunky on their feet while others had sobered some through the night. (Y/N) tried to recall everything she remembered about slow dancing with a boy as best she could, middle-school rules coming to mind first as she placed her hands on the broad of his shoulders. A breathy laugh fell from her partner's lips as he tugged her closer, setting a gentle grip on her waist. 
"This alright?" he asked her, looking down at her with glassy eyes though that didn't fog the crystal green of his iris. 
"Yeah, thank you," she peeped, enjoying the press of his rings through her dress. "I should probably tell you I don't know how to do this, so I'm going to step on your feet at least twice." 
Harry didn't seem at all bothered by the shortcomings of his partner, instead dropping his head with a brush of his forehead against hers as he laughed. "I don't even think I'll notice." 
It was with that, Harry started swaying her off-beat, going against the grain of the rhythm the couples around them had curated. Neither of them paid it any mind, (Y/N) honestly not even noticing until she caught sight of Priscilla and Nate twirling out in a completely different flourish than what Harry had her doing.
"I think we're going the wrong way," (Y/N) whispered with a giggle, using her grip on Harry's shoulders to tug him down to her level. 
"Are we?" he beamed at her, not even daring to look around the floor, his eyes pinned her with no sign of removal. 
"Mhm," she hummed, biting back her smile despite the way it still stretched across her cheeks. 
The only movement of his eyes came as they dropped down the planes of her face, charting every dip and curve before settling on her lips for a lingering moment. "Should we change that?" 
"Maybe."
Just like the placing of her feet (though she'd only stepped on his toes once so far, that she knew of), (Y/N) wasn't even aware as she tugged him down with her grip on his shoulders, making his face level with her's for a breath. A skim of the tip of her nose against his was the final touch before she was pressing her lips to his. The wine they had shared from her glass was now sipped from each other's kiss, plummy and warm. (Y/N) drank from his lips as she sealed a kiss against his lips, tipping her head just right to get a little more of him without getting too ahead of herself in the middle of her boss's wedding. 
Harry's hands on her waist was the anchoring touch as they resorted to just soft sways out-of-time with the song picked by the DJ. Warm breaths that were exhaled out of his nose fanned across her skin, with every matching tilt of his head. He didn't want to pull away, that much she knew from the way he clung to her form and the shallowness of his breaths the longer they kissed. 
If not for their location, (Y/N) would have tried to figure out what the wine tasted like from his tongue. Instead, she forced herself to draw back, Harry following after her though he only managed to touch his forehead to hers. 
"My boss is over there, otherwise..." (Y/N) trailed off, her lashes threatening to tangle with his from the proximity. 
Something a little too smug curled at his lips. "Otherwise? I can work with otherwise." 
Just in time, the set changed, turning into something much more uptempo that had Harry dragging her from the dance floor. (Y/N) swore as they passed Priscilla and Nate that her boss gave her a raise of her brow and practically-staged glimmer in her eye. 
The privacy of their little table in the back washed over them as Harry made a point to drag her original seat to sit right beside his, the legs getting crossed over one another. That made it all too easy for him to drape her leg over his knee, just where he settled the warm palm of his hand. Now that the wall was broken, the flirting having opened a gateway with the kiss being the perfect key to get through, Harry didn't hesitate to touch over her skin. 
'When are you leaving Paris?" he asked her, his filter gone along with the boundary they had burned on the dancefloor.
Reorienting herself as she reached for her glass of wine, (Y/N) tried to remember what day it was. "I think I'll be here for another week or something. Pris and Nate want to have some of their honeymoon with Nora before I need to take her home and they can be newlyweds." 
He hummed as he took in her words, his tongue peeking out as he swiped the tip of it along the plush of his now swollen bottom lip. "Then, I'll leave in a week or something, too." 
(Y/N) blanched at his proposition, not quite following where he was going. "What?" 
"Y'won't have Lenore all the time, right?" (Y/N) shook her head. "Maybe those days, I can keep y'company instead. There's a lot of Paris I haven't seen yet, and 'm sure you've been too busy to explore either." 
Though she doubted that Harry Styles—world-touring recording artist who was known to slip away to foreign countries for weeks at a time without being spotted—had anywhere left in Paris to explore with her, the idea appealed to her nonetheless. It wasn't like the Louvre was the only art gallery and this winery the only vineyard. 
"Really?" 
Harry nodded his head with a set in his jaw. He was determined when he was tipsy. "'M sure we'd still see each other back home, but I don't think 'm ready to leave Paris if you're not going as well." 
The implication that he would still reach out to her once they stepped back on home soil, that he was sure they would see each other then no matter what, was enough to have a warmth hitting her features that the wine could only dream of inducing from her. 
"Ye-Yeah," she nodded, her heart bubbling in her chest, "I can let you know when Nora is with her parents and we can meet up. Maybe not tomorrow morning because I think I'm going to be a little hungover and exhausted, but everyday after that. If it's alright." 
The way he leaned across her draped legs, hand cradling the hinge of her jaw, an intoxicating kiss to her lips was enough of an answer. (Y/N) didn't bother to ask again even after he pulled away. 
Priscilla was going to have a field day with this. 
—————
ive had so many feelings and ideas about weddingrry for so long so im super happy I got to get some of them out w this one! thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any requests or ideas of your own please send them in!
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beauvibaby · 2 years ago
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2 years – b.bradshaw “Rooster”
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A/n: idk what this is, it’s random and a little choppy but enjoy ☺️
Word count: 3.1k
You gasped as the ice cold beers tipped back on your tray after someone accidentally jabbed you with a pool stick. “Shit.” You cursed as it soaked your shirt, the one time you didn’t have a backup in your car. “Hangman!” Everyone groaned in unison as he turned around at the impact and your startled gasp. The beer bottles poured over the tray and down your chest, your eyes lifting as the culprit, Hangman, you assumed that was his call sign, began to try and help you stand them up so they stopped spilling. Penny watched from the bar with a sigh, Hangman was a good customer, but boy was he an idiot some of the time. “It’s fine, I’ll be back with some fresh ones.” You shrugged him off, feeling uncomfortable as your white shirt was now see through, you dropped your tray at the bar and groaned as you grabbed a rag, doing your best to at least get the sticky feeling off your skin.
“Here.” You heard, glancing back and seeing the one guy out of uniform shrugging his unbuttoned shirt off. “No, really it’s fine.” You tried, but he shook his head, “seriously, take it, you need to get out of that.” He motioned to the top without looking directly at your breasts, you cocked a smile at that. “Thank you…” you trailed not knowing his name, “Bradley, or Rooster, that’s my call sign, everyone calls me that.” He explained, a shy smile twitching on his face when you took the shirt. “Well, thank you, Bradley.” You said, nodding in the direction of the bathroom, “I’m gonna go change now,” you stepped from the bar and he watched with a nod. “My name is Y/N, by the way.” You called as you could feel him watching you walk away, he grinned at that, not even caring that he was being teased by his team when he returned to the pool table.
***
You’d been waiting and waiting to see him again, your excuse, to give back his shirt. Your reasoning, to get his number.
But finally after two long weeks you saw him enter the bar again, another somewhat cheesy Hawaiian vintage looking shirt hanging off his body, you briefly wondered what got him into that. “Hey, Bradley!” You called, cupping your hands around your mouth for volume, he looked over the edge of his sunglasses at you. Yep, you were already wrecked for this man. “Y/N.” He spoke, walking over to the bar top, “glad to see you haven’t run into Hangman yet.” He quipped, you gave him a chuckle as you placed his neatly folded shirt on the counter, “thanks again.” You mumbled, he took the shirt and shoved it in his back pocket, “anytime.” He gave you that smile, that goddamn smile was already one of your favorite things.
“Would you want to go out sometime?” He asked daringly, but on the inside he was scared to death, “no smooth talking?” You retorted, used to holding your own when you worked in a bar, especially a bar frequented by Navy folks. “I’m sure I could come up with something if you’d like, but I think you deserve better than some pickup line that I’m sure you’ve heard in here before.” He spoke with ease, hanging his sunglasses from his white tee, you gave him a once over, “well played, Bradley.” You smirked, “hand over your phone if you truly want a date.” You wiggled your fingers, watching as his facade broke a little and he nearly fumbled his phone to the ground in a rush. You entered your number, handing it back to him, “I’ll be waiting.” You winked, before heading to the other side to take some orders. Bradley smiled, you were painfully his type and he could only hope he didn’t mess this up.
***
“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” Bradley hollered, nodding over at you when he caught you looking, Penny had filled you in, especially after her on again off again lover, Maverick had come into town and Bradley had pulled away slightly after an amazing couple of months together. A serious relationship building for the both of you. “So Maverick and Bradley’s dad used to sing this?” You asked Penny, the woman nodding, “and Carol, Rooster’s mom, she was a gem, you would’ve loved her.” Penny sighed, you now knew everything Bradley had been through, grateful though that he had been truthful when you asked about his dad after hearing some stuff around town when Maverick showed up.
You weren’t expecting to be arguing outside the bar a couple hours later, but here you were. “You’re defending him and you don’t even know him!” Bradley snapped, frustratedly tugging on his hair. “That is not what I’m doing, I said maybe you two should talk, he’s clearly not forgiven himself for what happened, and I don’t think he ever will if you don’t forgive him first.” You explained calmly, your boyfriend of two months looked over at you, unsure on how he should react. “Penny told me, the gist of it, at least.” You whispered when he tried to figure out how you knew what Maverick was feeling. “My dad is dead, he died with him, how am I supposed to just forgive that?” He muttered, flinching when you laid your head on his back, arms draped around his torso. “I don’t know honey, but I think you should try.” You kissed him through his shirt, “can I say something? From my perspective?” You asked him after a while of silence.
He slowly stood up straight and turned to face you, he nodded slowly when he could feel the nerves bouncing off of you, “yeah baby.” He finally mumbled.
You glanced at your feet for a moment, “your mom-“ “Y/N.” Bradley instantly sighed, he knew you were right but he didn’t want to hear it. “Bradley, listen to me damn it. I don’t know your mom, I wish I could, I really do, and your dad too, but I know they would want you to forgive Maverick, they both did a long time ago.” You paused, “I can’t imagine how it felt for your mom when she found out, I really can’t,” you choked on a small cry, the first time he’d ever seen you cry. “If she could forgive Maverick, and still care for him and want him in your lives, then that shows it was an accident, a horrible, terrible accident and all Mav wants is to not lose the little boy who felt like family to him.” You concluded, surprised to be crying the way you were, but now even only two months with Bradley, and you couldn’t imagine if you had to find out something happened to him while training, or on a mission.
“Y/N, baby, don’t cry, come on.” He sighed, moving to hug you, “why’re you crying?” He asked softly into your hair, your tears landing on his shirt. You shook your head, worried if you said it, it would scare him off, but realistically you knew this was different than an average relationship, you both needed to trust quick and hard with the turbulence of his career. “I’m afraid.” You whispered when he asked again, he leaned away and cupped your face, “afraid of what?” He questioned, thumbs stroking your cheeks, brushing away the tears, he didn’t even care that you sniffled loudly before talking, he was worried about you. “I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt out there because you’re too busy holding a grudge against Maverick to think clearly.” You spoke, finally getting it off your chest. “You don’t need to worry.” He tried to coddle you but now you were getting mad. “I do need to worry! Bradley, I worry every goddamn day you’re on base, there could be a training accident, a mission accident, there are so many things that could go wrong and when I know that you’re trying to be all macho you’re not using your brain is even scarier!” You snapped, he faltered, “this is why I didn’t want to be in a relationship.” He sighed, and you took it to heart. “What the fuck does that mean?” You hissed, “Jesus, Y/N, not like that ok! I love you and I don’t want to be the one to destroy you if something happens to me!”
Turns out you both had been harboring feelings.
“You love me?” All the anger left your body in an instant, Bradley raised his eyebrows, “yes, I thought I made that pretty clear when I just shouted it.” He couldn’t help but give some sass, “don’t be a smartass.” You retorted, “I love you too.” You added, hugging him tightly. He felt relieved, and he took your words to heart, he knew everything you said was true, hell he worried about you when you had to work alone in the bar, he understood why you would be even more worried about him at work. “I’ll talk to Maverick.” He whispered, hoping that it could really work out between them, because he wanted someone who really knew his dad and he wanted to make you happy.
“Thank you, Bradley.”
***
You entered Bradley’s apartment with a sigh, a rough morning putting away the delivery at the bar for Penny while she was on vacation with Amelia, “babe, I’m here!” You called, only then noticing the other pair of shoes by the door, your eyebrows furrowed as you heard two sets of laughter. You walked further in and saw Bradley and Pete sitting on the couch, looking at old photos. Your heart warmed, and you began to feel your extra worries melt away, “hey.” You spoke again, this time they heard you as they looked back. “Hey baby.” Bradley smiled, “hi, Y/N, how are you?” Pete asked politely. “I’m good, captain.” You responded, sitting beside your boyfriend of four months now, “please call me Pete, or Maverick, you don’t need to be formal.” He explained, Bradley kissing your temple in a greeting. “Alright, Pete.” You chuckled, “what are you guys up to?” You asked, sparing a look to your boyfriend, he had an emotional but happy glint in his eyes. “We were looking at old pictures of my dad.” He spoke up, pulling one out of the album on the coffee table, you gasped, “is that you?!” You shrieked, not expecting him to have bleach blonde hair as a child, he was sitting on his fathers shoulders and they were grinning at the camera. “Yeah.” He laughed at your reaction, “you were so cute.” You gasped, “hey.” He quipped, “oh hush you’re still cute.” You rolled your eyes, flipping through the pictures. “These are amazing.” You whispered, there were hundreds of them, and suddenly you realized why Bradley always wanted to take pictures with you.
After a couple hours of hanging out, Maverick said his goodbyes and headed out, leaving you and Bradley alone. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered, you were sitting on your knees beside him, leaning on the couch while you played with his hair. He gave you a soft smile, you knew it was hard on him but he’d been putting in the work the past couple of months with Maverick and it was paying off. “Thank you for telling me to do this.” He sighed, closing his eyes when you kissed him softly. “That’s what I’m here for.” You shrugged after pulling away. He kissed across your face before tugging you down to lay with him for a while, and if you two took a nap that would keep you up all night, oh well.
***
Things had changed drastically over the last two years, you and Bradley were now married, and Pete took a promotion to be a permanent teacher at Top Gun, with the stipulation that Bradley would be stationed here as well, you thanked Pete over and over when he told you, tears falling from your eyes as you knew you wouldn’t have to uproot your lives. At first Bradley had been a little nervous about that, but once he got his assignment, test pilot, he was thrilled, still getting to do the thing he loves but not needing to leave his family.
“Penny is going to freak.” You laughed as you and Bradley pulled up to her and Pete’s now shared house, Amelia was visiting her dad in Hawaii so she would find out later which worked for the best as this was a very personal announcement and question. “I know we’re married but I’m afraid she might castrate me anyways.” Bradley joked, Penny treated you as her daughter and you respected and loved her like a mother as you didn't have your parents around anymore just like Bradley. “Doubtful.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand as he was about to open the car door, “hey,” you whispered, “are you absolutely sure you want to ask Pete this?” You held his gaze. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured you, leaning over and pecking you quickly. “Now let’s go before I ruin the big reveal.” He added, rushing around to open your door for you, he gave your butt a light slap as you climbed out.
“Pete, Penny? We’re here!” You called, instantly smelling the food coming from the kitchen, Bradley followed you like a lost puppy, trying to keep cool. “Hi honey.” Penny grinned looking over from the stove, “you look nice.” She added, you gave her a bright smile, “thanks, do you need any help?” You offered as you set down the box on the counter, Bradley giving Pete a hug as he walked in. “No, no, it’s almost done.” She wiped her hands off on the towel before greeting you and Bradley properly. “Hey kid.” Pete quipped, giving you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “What’s in the box?” He added seeing the way Bradley was guarding it like the items inside would jump out. “We have a little something for you guys.” Bradley spoke up, you walked over to him, Penny and Pete sharing a look. Bradley slipped his phone out of his pocket as the two opened the box and gasped, the sonogram pictures and a little navy onesie laying in the top of the box that was filled with crinkled paper to throw them off.
“You’re pregnant!?” Penny jumped up and down, nearly knocking you over in a hug as Pete spotted the card and picked it up. “Penny.” He called, you saw his eyes well with tears as he read it over and over again, she rushed back over and read the card, three times herself before they both looked at you.
“I can’t wait to meet everyone in just 6 short months, my grandparents in heaven handpicked me just for mommy and daddy… but I might be more excited to meet my Grandpa Mav and Grandma P, if I can call you that? Well, see you soon!
Love, baby Bradshaw”
Penny burst into tears and Pete looked up with them already running down his cheeks, “Bradley, are you–“ “It’s what we want, it’s what mom and dad would’ve wanted.” Bradley cut Pete off, cutting the video after that. “Oh god, yes, obviously we want to be grandpa and grandma.” Penny finally spoke when you two looked at them with raised brows, you laughed happily at their confession and welcomed their hugs, Penny already interrogating you on just about everything.
***
The team was having their annual summer meetup, down at the beach obviously, you were showing now, especially in your two piece bathing suit, your four, nearly five, month bump starting to pop. The big surprise, they didn’t know you guys were doing a gender reveal today. Only Pete and Penny knew as they were tasked with buying the powder cannons. “Y/N, oh my god! You look fantastic.” Phoenix cheered, hugging you and rubbing your little bump, “thank you.” You grinned, placing your hand over your stomach, you two greeted everyone else, everyone sharing their excitement and guesses when you said you were doing a gender reveal today. Mostly everyone said boy, aside from Phoenix and Bob, they were team girl. “Can we just–“ “Take a moment to realize I got them together because I hit Y/N with a pool stick.” You cut Hangman off, “you say it every year man, gotta find something new.” Payback retorted, the blonde groaned at you two for poking holes in his fun.
“3,2,1!” They all counted down, Penny recording as you and Bradley eagerly twisted the cannons, pink powder flying out, you shouted in excitement jumping up and down as you tossed the cannon down and hugged your husband. Bradley was hooting and hollering as he picked you up, he had been team girl too, very openly might you add and it made your heart swell even more. “I knew it!” Phoenix shouted through the cheering.
***
“Yeah, princess, two very important people are coming to see you.” Bradley whispered as he cradled the newborn, her swaddle a pale pink and a white bow covering most of her head, you set your phone down, “Penny said they’re in the elevator.” You giggled, making granny hands for Grace. “Hi my love.” You murmured, nuzzling your nose against hers, she wiggled and grunted in protest making Bradley snicker until you glared at him. “Knock knock.” Penny called, peeking around the curtain to make sure you were decent before coming in with Pete. “Hi.” You spoke softly when they walked in, Pete holding a pink stuffed giraffe, your favorite animal and it was heavily influenced in Grace’s nursery. Penny sat on the edge of your bed, opening her arms for the baby, while Pete pulled Bradley into a hug, they embraced a little longer than usual and you saw Bradley rub his eyes when pulled away and that’s how you knew Pete probably said how proud his parents would be of him.
“Oh, Y/N. She’s beautiful.” Pete smiled, kissing your cheek, “how are you feeling?” He added, and you chuckled softly, “like hell but it’s worth it.” You answered, Bradley shot you a concerned smile when you met eyes, you mouthed “I’m ok” before going back to Penny and Pete. “Are you going to share, honey?” Pete remarked when Penny walked around the room speaking to Grace. “I suppose.” She sighed dramatically, carefully passing the baby to Pete who was in awe as he held her. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m grandpa Mav.” He whispered and you were grateful for the candid photos Bradley was taking, the nurse came in to check on you, smiling at the older couple as they cooed to the sleeping baby. “Happy grandparents.” She murmured, “would you all like a photo together?” She asked with a bright smile.
“Yes please.” You answered, Bradley sat beside you on the bed, and Penny on the other side and Maverick beamed while standing beside you all while holding a sleeping Grace. It was your new favorite photo.
Tagging @eberles @srry-itshockeyszn
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tom-holland-parker · 3 years ago
Text
I Wanna Wear Your Tie
Request: Can you please do a professor tom x student reader, she’s of age of course, and he takes a liking to her for being so smart and he can barely contain himself with every outfit she wears. And one day after class he asks her to hang back and things get very SMUTTY?
Warning: 18 + SMUT (oral, choking, vaginal sex), student/teacher relationship, cursing, age gap (legal)
Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader
Word count: 4081
Masterlist
Tom knew from the first time you walked into class he was going to have a hard time. Not because you were a trouble maker, he heard from your other professors that you were an extremely bright and well rounded student, but because you liked to wear the shortest sundresses he’d ever seen. Tom knew he fucked up by developing a crush on his student. It was immoral and he could lose the job he worked so hard to get. 
Tom had been staring at the email all weekend, debating all his choices. He knew the right thing to do was to report it and let the school handle everything, but a big part of him told himself to do otherwise.
Dear Professor Holland,
I want to wear your tie while you fuck me
Love Y/N
Tom let out a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes, refreshing his inbox once more in hopes you had sent another email, an explanation or maybe even an apology, anything that would avoid him having to send the response that he had drafted Friday night after he received your message. Of course as the hours passed he knew that hoping was pointless, Tom sighed looking over his drafted email for what seemed like the 100th time before hitting send. 
Ms. Y/L/N
In regards to your last email I have no choice but to report it to the school. I do, however, acknowledge that you are one of my highest scoring students so it is only fair that I give you a chance to explain yourself. Please meet me in my office Monday after class
Professor Holland
Little did Tom know you were freaking out, spending Saturday nursing your hangover from partying Friday night. It was a drunken mistake, you would’ve never sent the email had you been sober but leave it to the vodka to let you do something stupid.
You had one day to come up with some apology and still couldn’t find the right words. Countless drafts saved in your notes app, but none good enough to express the regret you felt by sending that email. Of course time wasn’t on your side and the hours moved faster than usual. Finally it was Monday afternoon and you sat in your door waiting for your final class of the day, his class
“Maybe if you just tell him it was a mistake he’ll understand” Your roommate Kendra laughed as she looked at your computer, you’d been rereading the email for hours, hoping it would go away. Glancing at the clock you sighed, “I have his class in an hour, how am I going to face him”
“You could skip”
“I’m already in enough trouble as it is I can’t skip class” You sighed, closing the laptop as you moved to put on your shoes, “I’ll just give the best apology he’s ever heard of and hopefully it’ll all work out”
Kendra chuckled, “who knows maybe you’ll get exactly what you wanted”. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll text you after class”
///
Tom watched as you entered class, his eyes trailing over your outfit, you were wearing his favorite dress, white with blue flowers. He chuckled at your innocent appearance but frowned when he noticed you taking a seat in the back instead of your usual seat in the front.
You showed up to class right on time, looking at your feet to avoid any eye contact with Tom. It was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was that stupid email. It didn’t help that he was wearing a tie today, the same tie you’d imagine him gagging you with on most nights. You shook your head trying to focus on forming an apology that wasn’t absolutely pathetic
“Alright class is over, If you have any questions about the assignment you can” his gaze shifted towards you, “email me”
Your eyes widened as you distracted yourself by putting your things in your bag. As if the universe wanted to see you completely embarrass yourself in front of the teacher you’d been crushing on all semester, you piled out the class with the rest of the students, trudging down the hallway towards his office. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, pacing back and forth as you tried to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you knocked on the door 
“Come in” You heard his muffled voice from behind the door. You took a deep breath as you twisted the door knob walking into the well lit office. 
“Hi Professor, you said you needed to see me” You say trying to seem innocent. He cleared his throat pointing to the leather seat in front of his desk, “Please have a seat” 
Slowly you make your way to the seat, placing your bag on the floor as you stare at him. Tom took a deep breath, opening the email as he passed you his laptop, “When I get an email from my brightest student I expected a question about her latest essay not this”
Your face heated in embarrassment as you handed him the laptop, “Professor I’m so sorry I was very drunk Friday night and I know that isn’t an excuse but I didn’t mean to send that. If I could take it back I would just please don’t report this”
Tom watched as tears slowly began to trail down your face, “y/n I’m not going to report you”. 
You looked at him in disbelief, “Seriously”
“but you’re not getting off that easily” He closed his laptop, “You’ll be spending the week and your weekend helping me grade papers”
You let out a sigh of relief, “thank you professor I’m really sorry it ever happened”
Tom chuckled, “You’re one of the smartest girls in my class. I would hate to see you get in trouble because of one drunk mistake” You wiped your tears away, feeling yourself relax now that you knew you weren’t going to be in too much trouble. “After all you’re only young once, just try to keep your thoughts in a diary and not your emails”
You chuckled, picking up your bag as you got up to leave, “will do professor”
///
Tom instantly regretted his decision. Don’t get him wrong, having the extra help was amazing but it was hard to concentrate when all you wore were short dresses. He spent all week sitting at his desk, too afraid to get up for fear that his body would betray him and you see the hard on he was trying desperately to get rid of. Seeing you in class was hard enough but when he watched you in what seemed like your natural element it changed something in him.
He watched as you sat on the couch in his office, your hair tied back and your glasses slowly sliding down your face, every once in a while you had to push them back in place. Tom couldn’t help but smile at the faces you made while reading the essays, a look of annoyance when you read over an obvious mistake or the way your eyebrows furrowed when you wrote the feedback. He tried his hardest to keep his laughter inside whenever you got distracted and drew little faces in the margins. He hated to admit it, it made him feel terrible, but he was a professor falling for his student
“Professor I’m not sure about this” You said getting up from the couch as you walked towards his desk. Your voice knocked him out of his trance as he watched you hand the paper to him, “See the evidence goes along with the topic sentence but the explanation is still choppy” 
You watched as Tom took the paper from you, your breathing hitching when his hands grazed over yours. You shook your head reminding yourself that you were already here because your stupid feelings and if you kept letting yourself indulge in what was supposed to be your punishment you were going to end up in the deans office.
“I see what you mean,” Tom said looking over the paper, “just circle the paragraph and place it in the pile and I’ll look over it later.” He looked up, surprised to see how close you were to him, your chest inches away from his face. It was just his luck that you decided to wear a low cut dress today.
“Okay” You replied, taking the paper from him as you slowly moved back to the couch. Tom glanced at the clock noticing how late it was getting, “Well it’s getting late and you probably want to spend the you weekend somewhere way entertaining than here so you can leave, punishment over”
“Are you sure? I still owe you two more days and it doesn’t feel fair to end my punishment early” You said, grabbing another paper. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stay because it actually felt unfair or if you really just wanted an excuse to keep spending time with him. 
“Well if you insist, '' he chuckled, a part of him happy that you weren’t eager to leave, “But we can finish this tomorrow afternoon, I’ll walk you out”
You gathered your things, meeting Tom at the door where he waited for you, his hand resting on your back as he guided you out the room, locking the door behind him. “It’s dark, I’ll walk you to your car, Where are you parked?” Tom said looking at the parked cars on the street
“I don’t drive” You said awkwardly, “But my dorm is only a few blocks away from here I don’t mind walking”
Tom shook his head, “No way I’m letting you walk, it's too dangerous, I’ll drive you.” You watched as he took his keys out his pocket unlocking the black BMW parked across the street.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way” you looked down on your feet, here you were again too flustered to even look at him. Tom chuckled at your nervousness, “Don’t worry about it. I insist on it.” Your breath hitched as he placed his hand on your back again, guiding you towards the car.
It only took a few minutes for him to get to your dorm building, “well here we are” He said, parking his car before looking at you. You glanced at him nervously, “Thanks Professor”
“Call me Tom” he chuckled, “But only when were alone”
You wanted to punch yourself for feeling butterflies but you couldn’t help it. “Well Tom” You laughed, calling him by his name felt weird, “thank you”
He watched as you moved to grab the door handle but froze, “Oh I forgot to ask you about your assignment”
“What’s up?” he shrugged. “Well I know you wanted us to write about how the author uses the women in his novel to display power but I can’t write about that. The author clearly doesn’t see the woman as symbols of power he sees them as sex objects, which is shown multiple times throughout the text so I can’t write about something that isn’t true”
“So you don’t believe sex is a form of power?” Tom questioned trying not to smile at the way your brows furrowed in concentration
“Of course I believe sex is a form of power but for the author to display women having sex as a symbol for powerful femininity the woman would have to own their sexual desires and wants”
Tom chuckled, “If you really feel so strongly about that then write about it, I’d love to hear more about what you have to say about owning your sexual desires. Seems to me you know a lot about that” 
“Oh my god” You hide your face in your hands, “I didn’t even realize-”
“Don’t be embarrassed, if you can’t joke about it then you’ll let it eat you alive” Tom chuckled
“Well” you smiled, “I should probably get to writing”
“Yeah you should”
You both didn’t even noticed the way you both began to slowly lean into each other, the tension in the car growing thick
“Goodnight professor”
“It’s Tom” He said with a smile
You scrunch your nose, “Goodnight Tom”
Your faces were inches away from each other. He couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at your lips before looking back at your eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do the same, “Goodnight y/n”
You both stayed silent, letting the tension take over. Your lips grazing over each other. The kiss was slow at first but it soon progressed into passionate open mouth kisses, both of you giving into your desires.
Your hands reached to grab his face, shocked at how soft his cheeks felt. “Wait wait wait” Tom said, pulling away slowly. 
You caught your breath, wiping your lips as you moved back into your seat, “I should probably go”
Before Tom could say a word you were out the car rushing towards the dorm building. “Fuck” he said to himself as he leaned back into his seat. He knew he’d fucked up, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he kissed you.
///
When you knocked on Tom’s office door the next day you were even more nervous than you were Monday. You were too embarrassed and instead of facing the problem head on you did what you did best, ignored it. 
You spent the afternoon on the couch, headphones on as an excuse to block out Tom. If you had a question you didn’t ask it and when you had a comment you didn’t say it. It was pure torture for you and Tom, yet you both chose to ignore the elephant in the room.
As the hours passed and the sun began to set Tom’s patience was growing thin. He couldn’t pretend like the kiss never happened, and if he was being honest with himself he wanted more.
You sighed in frustration, as hard as you tried to concentrate on the papers in front of you, you just couldn’t. Thoughts about last night flooded your brain making it hard to concentrate on even the simplest sentences. You threw the paper on the couch, ripping your headphones off, “I’m sorry but this silence is killing me, can we just get this awkward conversation over with”
“Alright well” Tom stared at you, unsure what to say. Yes he felt wrong but he also didn’t care. He got a taste of you and now he wanted more, “I apologize for what happened, it was completely unprofessional on my part”
You cleared your throat trying to find the right response, “yeah, well, I'm sorry too, we were both in the wrong and it shouldn’t have happened and I’m really hoping we can just move past this” 
“Yes I agree” Tom nodded his head, “So how are those papers coming along?”
You shrugged, sitting down in the exact leather chair you’d sat in on Monday, “There needs to be a study group or something, I mean if this is the writing skills of our future world leaders I’m honestly a little concerned”
Tom chuckled, his hands instinctively reaching for his tie, something you noticed he did subconsciously. Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fluttered, “god get a grip girl” You thought as you blinked your lust filled thought away.
Tom smirked, noticing your reaction to the way you reacted to him, “Yes well not everyone has an easy time with writing as you do”. He touched his tie again, this time tugging on the knot a little.
Your breath hitched as your brain went foggy. A low chuckle leaving his mouth as you shook your head, “Well I’m not that great of a writer, I mean I have countless drafts that no one sees”
“Really?” Tom played with his tie, loving how much the simple habit affected you, “How many drafts did you make before you sent that email?”
Your eyes widening in surprise, “no drafts. Drunk me is the best writer”
Tom smiled, getting up from his seat as he moved to stand in front of you. You watched as he leaned against his desk. You bit your lip as you leaned back into the chair, enjoying the way that Tom seemed so much taller than you.
“You know you probably shouldn’t say that to your professor”
You smirked, “There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t say to my professor” You were playing with fire but the heat felt too good, it made you want to know what the burn felt like. “Fuck it, what’ve you got to lose” You thought to yourself as you smiled.
“Oh yeah?” Tom’s eyebrow raised in question as he leaned down towards you, his face only inches from you, “things like what?”
You smiled bringing your lips close to his ear, “Like how much I want you to fuck me”
The groan that left Tom had your thighs clenching together, “Yeah you definitely shouldn’t tell me that.” You chuckled as you leaned back in the seat, Tom’s eyes moved over your body like you were a work of art, “but then again as a teacher I probably shouldn’t want to fuck my student so badly”
Your lips parted in surprise as Tom smirked, his fingers gently trailing up your thigh. Your breath hitched in anticipation but a disappointed sigh left your mouth when his hand didn’t move past the hem of your short dress. “If this happens no one can know”
You nodded your head as his hand grabbed your chin, keeping your head in place and forcing you to look into his eyes, “Words darling”
“No one finds out” You gulped, your body frozen. You could feel yourself getting wet from the power he held over you. The feeling of his having control over you was intoxicating
“And you understand that I will never use this against you? You can leave right now and I will forget this ever happened and we can go right back to our normal professional student-teacher relationship”
“I understand professor” You nodded, wanting nothing more than for his hands to be all over you. 
“Good girl” He smiled, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “Now go sit on my desk and spread those legs”
You smiled, quickly doing as you were told. Tom chuckled, amused by your excitement. You watched as he got on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he places kisses up your thighs, occasionally leaving a mark that would stay for days to come. “You’re so wet, all this over a couple of kisses?” He teased
Before you could answer Tom moved your underwear aside, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. You moaned, your hand instinctively reaching for his hair. “I knew you would taste good,” He said, licking his lips. He ate you like you were his last meal, licking and slurping you like a starving man. 
You’d never been more thankful that the school was empty on Saturdays, no one around to hear the moans that Tom was coaxing out of you. “Oh god” Your hips shamelessly bucking against his face as he pulled your legs onto his shoulder.
“Tom please” You whimpered as his tongue slowed down to a teasing pace. He groaned, his large hand slapping your thigh, “It’s professor.” His voice was demanding and powerful. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers stretched you, toes curling as he effortlessly found your g-spot. “Professor please I’m gonna cum”
“Cum for me baby” He moaned, “I want your cum all over my face”
His fingers moved faster as you reached your breaking point, loud moans leaving your mouth as your back arched. You could feel Tom smirking against your clit as your legs began to slightly shake. 
“You sound so pretty when you cum” Tom said as he stood up, your cum making his face glisten in the last bits of light that came from the windows of the office. You couldn’t help yourself, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer as you licked your cum off his face. 
“Someone’s eager” He joked as you kissed down his neck. “Hmm I can’t help it, you just look so sexy with my cum on your face. Plus I’ve been wanting this all semester so are you gonna give me what I want or am I gonna have to get it from someone else”
Tom’s jaw tightened as he grabbed your wrist, “Don’t be a brat or I’ll edge you all night and leave you with nothing”
You whimpered as Tom pulled you off the desk, “Now if I remember correctly,” you watched as he loosened his tie, “You wanted to wear this.” You nodded your head, watching as he took off the blue and white tie, taking a deep breath as he placed it around your neck. 
“And as much as I love you in this dress, I think I’d prefer for you to be out of it” He smirked. You chuckled, turning around so he could unzip the dress, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Tom’s arms snaked around your body he pulled your back into his. His fingers playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling the sensitive area. You bit your lip, rubbing your ass against his hard on, your pussy desperate for more attention.
“Professor” You wined, “I want you”
“So needy baby” He chuckled against your skin as he kissed up your shoulder and neck, “Don’t worry, you’ve been a good girl I won’t tease you too much”
Your head rested against his shoulder as his hand twisted the tie, making it tighter around your throat, “Is this okay?” You nodded, wincing when his hand roughly slapped your ass, “Come on sweetheart you're smart enough to know that when I ask a question I expect an answer. Now use your words”
“Yes Professor” You said moaning as his hand gently rubbed the area he’d just hit. Tom quickly unbuckled his pants, pushing them down as he aligned himself with you. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock on your clit, loving the low whimpers that escaped your mouth as your hips jolted up. 
Tom’s grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down into the desk as he bottomed you out. You moaned loudly as he began to thrust into you, “This is what you wanted right? Your professor fucking you like a slut”
You gripped the desk, trying your best to keep your balance. Tom gripped the tie again, the fabric pulling your head back. “Faster please Professor” You begged as you moved your hips. 
His hips sped up as his hand moved in front of you tracing figure eights on your clit. You became light headed from how tight the tie was but you couldn’t care less it all felt too good. “Sir Please It’s too much I’m gonna cum”
“Go on baby cum on my cock, give it to me” Tom sped up, becoming needier as he came closer to cumming. He pulled your body into his, fucking up into you as he kissed the harsh line where the tie met your skin. The sensation was too much for you as you came, your walls squeezing Tom, milking his cock of all his cum as he came shortly after you.
Your body went limp, leaning against the desk so you didn’t fall to the floor. Tom sighed, pulling out of you, groaning when he saw his cum leaking out your abused hole. “You did so good” Tom whispered as he kissed up your spine, “Such a good girl for me”
You slowly got up, turning around to face him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom smiled, picking you up and moving you to the couch, where you sat cuddled in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, still placing kisses all over your body
“I’m cold” You said, your head resting against his shoulder. He chuckled, quickly grabbing his jacket from his chair before returning to your tired body. You laid in his lap with his jacket wrapped around you, Tom’s hand running up and down your spine as he kissed your forehead.
You glanced at the clock, “it’s getting late”
Tom sighed, “let’s just stay like this for a little while, then we’ll get you dressed and I’ll drive you to your dorm”
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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years ago
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Teacher's Pet
Aizawa's got eyes for his new teacher's assistant. Reader was is a former student of his.
tw: smut, noncon, drugging, yandere-ish, penetration
AN: My computer deleted the original version of this fic so I anger-rewrote it. Not edited.
You were always Aizawa's favorite. Never rude or lazy. And you always trusted his decisions. That's why - after a few years - when you decided to try your hand at teaching he volunteered to train you has his Teacher's Assistant. You looked the same, just a little more mature. You still looked at the man with the same doe eyed expression, waiting for his next direction. You were no longer his student and he didn't need to keep his mind from wandering.
Aizawa invited you over under the guise of grading papers. In attempt to make the task less boring, he poured two glasses of wine.
"Aizawa-sensei, how late is it?" You yawned.
Your mentor glanced at his phone, "You know you can call me Shota. It's only going to be 9, if you're tired we can finish this another day."
Nodding you attempted to stand, but plopped back down because the room began to spin. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with your exhaustion but your body felt heavy and sluggish.
"I didn't realize you weren't much of a drinker," Aizawa laughed, extending his arm toward you. "Here, let me help you up."
You managed a few steps before taking a break to collect your bearings. On second thought, it couldn't be the wine, you only had a single glass. Then the room began to shift. Aizawa had picked you up. He was talking to you, something about being worried for your safety. You weren't fully listening, it was a pain just trying to concentrate.
When did you get on a bed?
You felt the mattress shift as Aizawa sat beside you. "I think you should just sleep it off here, I know you're pretty tough but right now you look like a confused little kitten."
Taking a deep breath you tried sitting up, "No, I shouldn't-"
The older man was on top of you. Tendrils of his hair reached down to graze your face. He smells so good, you couldn't put your finger on it but he smelled like comfort.
You snapped out of your trance when you felt a tug at your waist. Aizawa, your mentor, was pulled off your pants. When had he removed your shirt?
"Sensei, stop-"
Aizawa smashed his lips against yours. He had one had tangled in your hair to keep you from squirming away from his attack. "Are you gonna be a good girl and open your mouth for me?"
Heat was coursing throughout your body. You were embarrassed, upset, scared, but also curious. Of course your body was feeling good, but this wasn't what you wanted. You shook your head before he caught your lips again. You kept them firmly pressed together, denying his tongue entrance. But then dug his nails into your soft hips so hard that you had to cry out in pain. After exploring with his tongue he pulled away from you.
"See, that's not so hard."
To make everything worse, he had skillfully removed your bra while you were distracted.
He licked his lip as you took in your body, the only thing left was your underwear. Kneeling on the bed, between your spread legs, he place a hand under either knee. With a quick pull he dragged you toward him. Your ass was elevated, resting on the top of his thighs; gravity making your breasts perkier than they already were. If he had drugged you it must've fully kicked in because no matter how hard you will your arms, they wouldn't move.
His knuckles grazed between your thighs making tears escape your eyes.
"Oh kitty, you've soaked through your panties," he pressed a little harder against the material. "You always caught the eyes of so many of the boys. I wondered if you knew. If you acted naive around them as a way to tease. How many of them succeeded?"
You didn't respond.
Hooking a finger under you panties he moved them to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. Whimpering you begged him once more to stop. Maybe if you told him you were too tired he'd leave you alone.
"I know honey, once we're done it'll be bedtime. If you avoid my questions we're gonna have to stay up later. Tell me how many boys you let crawl between your legs. What'd they do that made you feel good?"
All the while his hand never stopped rubbing against you.
Your words came out choppy, between tearful gasps, "Please, Aizawa sensei, I don't want to. I promise, I never-"
A shiver racked your body when he began rubbing circles around your clit. You jerked away from him. You think you were strong enough to pull away but maybe he just wanted an excuse to reposition you. He leaned forward, giving your body a break and smiled against your neck, "Is my kitty a virgin?"
Humiliated you nodded your head. You never really stopped to think about your lack of a sex life, none of your peers ever caught you attention in that way. You just wanted to become a pro and prove yourself to your role model, the man on top of you.
"How perfect are you," he cooed. He moved to sucking an nipping at your breasts, leaving a trail of marks from your neck like a map. "How about we go slowly. I know they taught sex ed but real life is always different from a text book. Let me know if you have any questions, you know I'm a good teacher."
A calloused finger slid inside you. You focused on your breathing, everything was okay. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He moved his finger slowly, taking in how tight your felt. He didn't want your first time to be unnecessarily painful. You were mortified when he removed his finger from you and brought it to his lips. He groaned as his licked two fingers.
"You're doing so good, baby. Can you take a big breath for me?" Two fingers slid inside you, there wasn't much resistance but you felt the pressure change. You couldn't help with whine. "That's my good girl. We're gonna do three now, okay?"
Fuck. Three was too much. You felt like you couldn't take any more. Then, with his fingers still inside of you be began playing with your clit again. Your body tensed as electricity coursed from your core. The moan that poured from your lips was involuntary. More juices pooled beneath you. You kept shaking while Aizawa withdrew from you.
"Such a messy girl," he kissed you. "That's exactly what we want."
Becoming acutely aware that his erect cock was resting below your belly you looked for the first time. You weren't sure what to expect when it came to the size of any dick but certainly not what was before you.
"Wait, can we stop," you found your voice. "It's too big, I don't think I can do it."
"Trust me, it'll fit. It may be a little painful at the beginning because it's your first time but then it'll feel good. Just like how I made you feel good with my hands."
The anticipation was killing him. Aizawa was trying to keep your attention by praising you while he teased around your soaking entrance with the head of his cock.
You hissed, pushing weakly against Aizawa's chest, as he entered you. He moved slowly, frustratingly slow. He wanted nothing more that to push in to you, to make you hurt in the best way. Your walls felt so tight and warm against him that if he was a less experienced man would've already finished him.
Finally at his base you earned more praise, "Fuck, kitten, you're taking me so well. Already making me feel so good and it's only your first time. I'm gonna try to go slow but - fuck - tell me if it starts getting to rough."
After a few moments you began to acclimate and the pain eased up. But every time his hips fully met against you you were reminded his girth. You involuntarily jerked against him as that feeling of electricity began to manifest in your core. He was beginning to pick up the pace and couldn't keep from arching against him. Sparks shot through your body as he bit into your shoulder. Your walls spasmed around him. You could hear him praising you as almost completely pulled out just to thrust back into you. Repeating the motion and filling the near silence with the sound of your wetness.
Maybe something in your broke or maybe it was a defense mechanism but your started to rationalize the situation. You body did feel physically good. And lord know's you always had a thing for the hero. This would be perfect if he had gone about things the right way. You wanted some sense of control so you did the only thing you could think of.
"Sh-Shota," You moaned into his ear. Your nails digging in to his back.
"Fuck, say it again," he growled. No longer able to control his pace he moved harder and faster. Tomorrow there would be plenty of proof on your body that Aizawa had been there. "Be my good girl and say it again."
You weren't going to, but you were speaking before you realized, "Shota, I can't-"
If he kept going like this you knew hit your third orgasm of the night. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
"You're going to. Show me that you can be a good little whore and listen to teacher."
As if on cue you were seeing stars. Aizawa moaned into you neck and buried his cock deep inside of you. There was a new sensation and your realized that he wasn't wearing protection. His hot cum was filling you to the brim. "Wait, I'm not on the pill"
After a few more pumps he froze inside of you, "That's so fucking hot."
He pulled out and a mixture of both your fluids followed. He rolled to the side of you and brought you close to his chest.
"I'm so proud of you, you were such a good girl."
You interrupted, maybe he hadn't heard you, "I'm, I'm not on the pill."
"That's okay, I wouldn't want you to be, you're all mine. You need to sleep, we can take a bath in the morning."
You were tired, even though it felt like your mind was beginning to clear. Like a cornered animal you felt trapped. Aizawa kept whispering as you closed your eyes. He mentioned something about next time feeling better for you. That he was going to take such good care of you. How he didn't share.
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sugamamacustard · 4 years ago
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Feral Animal
Pairing:  Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani x Omega! Reader
Genre: Fluff
Request:  Hi! I love your abo blog! I was wondering if you could write about Alpha!Kyotani with an Omega!Reader, where their first encounter catches everyone by surprise? Like, Reader has a traditionally alpha scent (like burning/smokey wood) and can usually get away with being mistaken as an alpha at first glance? It’s fine if you’re asks are full or you don’t want to do this but thanks for your time 😊 —Sno
Summary:  You just wanted to get the boys to practice on time. You weren’t prepared to deal with this.  Good thing you had a gaurdian angel- or should we say, dog. 
Author’s Note: I love Kyoutani so much. Like he’s in my top three people I simp for. 
Requests: Open!
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Kentarou Kyoutani
➵ No one gathered in your way when walked down the hall. You smelt strong enough to put them on edge. 
➵ Peoples hackles were constantly raised when you were around, and truthfully, you didn’t know why. 
➵ You were still you. You were still an omega. 
➵ You still ached to reach out for touch, to scent someone, to just have the smallest bit of attention from anyone that wasn’t Iwaizumi.
➵  You and he had met when you were young, and he took to being your personal guardian—since he was a year older than you.
➵  You were thankful for him and his friendship, but that was all it would ever be. You both tried dating in your first year of middle school (Dating being a loose term), but it was obvious you were better off as friends. 
➵ You both still hung out constantly though, and eventually he grew to be an older brother to you.
➵  When you got to high school though, you quickly realized that with Iwaizumi came Oikawa. You had known him just as you had known Iwaizumi, but the other male seemed to keep his distance from you.
➵ It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was keeping his distance with you. When you and Iwaizumi explained to him there was nothing between the two of you, nor would there ever be, he calmed down. 
➵ The fellow omega (Oikawa is an omega ass bottom change my mind. Unless it comes to requests. Then he’s an alpha for you :D) grew to be close with you as well and if one or the other was being idiotic you stepped in as the shoulder to cry on. 
➵ You were happy for them, truly, but you knew sooner or later you were going to be out of the picture.
➵  They were third years, and you were a second year. They had a relationship that ran deeper than any thing you could offer them.
➵ And that was okay.
➵ Facing the obvious, it’s clear that, because your best friends are those two dorks, you’re into volleyball. Or in the very least, know of it and how to play. Because of this, you’re elected manager.
➵  No more choice. 
➵ You don’t fawn over Oikawa constantly, you can handle Iwaizumi’s outbursts, you were calm with the first years, and you don’t put up with any fan girl’s bullshit. 
➵ You didn’t get the chance to refuse honestly.
➵ “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, Oikawa-Senpai is busy at the moment- “
➵ “Please, just- Let me see him! I won’t be long!” The Alpha pleaded, trying to appease to your sense of empathy. Unfortunately for her, that was dried up before the second girl even looked at you to ask the very same thing. 
➵ You were tired of girls, obviously not getting the hint, trying to confess their undying love to Oikawa every other day. How did they not see he was an Omega? 
➵ Yeah, he had suppressants out the wahzoo but, good golly, his mannerisms were all Omega.  
➵ Apparently this alpha though her and Oikawa would be the ultimate power couple.
➵ “Like I said before, he is busy. Any time you take up is time wasted.” You snorted, turning tail and shutting the gym door, ignoring the screech of anger behind it. You were used to it.
➵  Most times you locked them out, they’d throw a bitch-fit, turn and bad-mouth you to their friends for a few days. 
➵ They’d tease you for your scent—which was a, frankly lovely, pinewood and amber scent—and poke fun at you, saying how ‘you’ll never get an alpha smelling stronger than them” with a sneer. You’ve learned to ignore those types of girls.
➵ What you didn’t expect however, was for her to scream some more, banging on the metal door.
➵  It was ripped open in your moment of shock, making you turn on your heel to face her. 
➵ Her hair, though still relatively upkept, was frizzy with fly-a way’s running out occasionally, but her eyes were what scared you. 
➵ They were constricted to ball point bulbs that were locked onto you, fangs poking out as she snarled at you.
➵ Of course. Because why wouldn’t a feral Alpha be part of your day today?
➵ You growled yourself, trying to reign in your scent but it was getting harder and harder as she stalked closer.
➵ No one else was in the gym, as they were changing in the club room, but you figured you could handle her.
➵ You hoped at least.
➵ She tried pouncing on you, your arms quickly crossing in front of your face to shield yourself, but instead of an angry alpha trying to claw your eyes out, you merely got a gust of wind.
➵   Peeking open an eye—you couldn’t recall closing them, but whatever—you frowned at the face staring back at you.
➵  You hadn’t talked to him, personally, but you knew who he was. Kentarou Kyoutani. 
➵ He was incredibly strong, a worthy advisory, and worst of all…
➵ A ticking time-bomb of an alpha.
➵ He had the resting bitch face to end all resting bitch faces, and the attitude to go with it. He had only said one word to you ever and it was ‘move’. His voice was gruff and angry when he said it, but his eyes softened when you looked up at him. 
➵ He waited patiently for you to gather your things before moving. That was the first, and what you thought, last time you’d ever see the alpha. He entranced you though, so you wouldn’t ever necessarily be opposed to seeing him again. 
➵ Just maybe not in this circumstance.
➵ Kyoutani held the alpha by the collar of her shirt, his lips poked up in a snarl with his canines gleaming dangerously in the sunlight
➵ . Contrary to popular belief, he’d only ever gone feral once in his life. His stepfather, an awful, awful, excuse for an alpha had raised a hand to his Mama.
➵  He refused to let anyone ever raise a hand to omega that day and stuck to his grits with it.
➵  Many people often feared him because of his careful eye and quick reflexes. 
➵ They claimed he was close to going feral because they never cared to admit they were planning on hurting someone. He didn’t care.
➵ At least he didn’t. When he saw you simply turn and close the gym door, he felt his heart skip a beat. 
➵ Maybe it was just the fact that you didn’t relent, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care or bend or submiss in the absolute slightest, or maybe it was the waft of the most calming scent he’s ever smelt before.
➵  He knew the other alpha’s scent, as she had practically reeked all over him while asking him for things Oikawa liked before he snapped on her, so this was all you. And he…liked it. 
➵ He hated scents that were too sweet or too ‘exciting’ in a way, but this? This was calming and euphoric all in one and he wanted to straight up bathe in it.  It smelt that good.
➵ He watched the alpha screech, stomping her foot—he could guess she was the very definition of daddy’s girl with her reaction to being told ‘no’—and before he could growl at her to leave, she was forcing open the door and snarling. 
➵ So, he dropped his bag and ran to make sure you were okay. His alpha pawing at him to hurry up. 
➵ He had felt the very same as they day he ran his stepfather out of his life, but this time…This time, he would be sure not to go feral. That would scare you and he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk that.
➵ When he got there, the alpha lunged and he had barely enough time to grab her. You looked shocked to see him, or maybe it was residue from when she broke into the gym, but you didn’t say anything.
➵  He took that as a good sign, turning tail and dragging her to where he dropped his bag. He grabbed it quickly, instead dropping her and rushing back to the gym.
➵  You closed the door behind him, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa quickly locking it. In the time, between Kyoutani dragging out the feral alpha you had the chance to text Iwaizumi, sending choppy and shaky, but succinct, messages to let him know what was going on.
➵  The rest of the team were on their way anyway, so they merely hurried their steps. When they turned to lock the door, you stopped them, crying for them to just wait for a minute.
➵ Kyoutani had run in seconds after your plea and the door was quickly shut. 
➵ Scents were going insane in the gym, but his was most discernible to you. He smelt scared.
➵  Before anyone had a chance to mention it though, he was turning to you and reaching for your face.
➵ you flinched but that didn’t stop him. His fingers were gentle, more so than you could expect from him, and he was so soft while turning your face to observe the damage. Iwaizumi tried to get close, but he was growled at as you were held to Kyoutani’s chest. 
➵  The team could only watch, flabbergasted, as you were hugged and scented by their mad dog. Even more so when you began laughing and purring, placing your hands around his neck.
➵  You whispered something (They were ‘Thank you’ and appreciation whispers) into his ear, making his shoulders visibly relax. No one could really understand what had happened, but they weren’t sure if they wanted to question it just yet.
➵ Well, most of team didn’t at least.
➵ “Aw, Mad dog-Chan! How do you know our little Chibi-chan?” Oikawa laughed, leaning off Iwaizumi as he spun a volleyball on his pointer finger.  
➵ Kyoutani grunted, abruptly pulling away, only to growl and pull you back when his alpha snarled. “Don’t.”
➵ “Wait- wait, wait. Hold on.” Hanamaki snorted, holding his hands up. “So you, Mad dog, most vicious alpha this side of the equator, just decided fuck it, and chose to not only save an omega you’ve never met, but then hog her? I don’t know, Mattsun, seems kind of sus to me.”
➵ “Very sus.” Matsukawa agreed, snickering. He yelped however, when Kyoutani turned to snarl at him, only for you to hold him back. Matsukawa had never felt more scared for his life in that very moment, and he owed you a whole ass chapel.
➵ It stayed like that for the rest of the practice, with you calming Kyoutani down ever time he needed a ‘time out’ and over time he got much better at controlling his anger.
➵ No one was surprised when you walked in two weeks later, a small, thin leather choker clipped on around your neck with a hand-made moon charm hanging from it.
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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago
Text
The Power of Luck [Chapter One]
Read The Power of Luck on AO3
Masterlist [All Works]
Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]
Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects
The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.
Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.
No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.
Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.
The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.
Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.
Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.
-----
At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.
There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.
Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.
Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to
"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"
Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"
"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.
"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."
"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.
"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.
Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.
-----
Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.
"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.
Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"
There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"
"Yes."
"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"
Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"
Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."
"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."
Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."
Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."
Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.
"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.
Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"
Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.
"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.
"I wished to apologize."
"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"
The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."
"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."
"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.
"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."
"You could have googled me."
Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."
"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."
"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."
"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."
Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."
"You're different than everyone else here."
Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped
Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."
"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.
Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."
It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."
"What?"
"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."
Damian nodded. "It's a deal."
Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.
@maribatmarch-2k21
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under-the-cherrytree · 3 years ago
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so you do au swaps right ? could i request the twins and teru in a (royal/medieval/fantasy) au ?(sorry but i forgot what it was called haha) but maybe they sneak out the castle one night and then they meet and befriend the reader. sort of like those cliche love stories where the prince falls in love with one of the village people
Princes Amane Yugi, Tsukasa, and Teru x reader❣︎
Warnings: None that I can really think of
A/n: I LISTENED TO A 10 HOUR PLAYLIST OF MEDIEVAL MUSIC YEAHHHHH!!
I had too much coffee while I’m writing this-
This is like small oneshots so...
Anyways! Enjoy and have a great day!
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You walked down the empty street, carrying a small basket as you slowly approached your home. You looked at the moonlight as you walked humming to yourself. Instantly a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alley.
“Give me all your valuables…” He said, causing you to shiver. You didn’t say anything which caused him to slam you against the wall.
“I said give me all your stuff you damn pessant!”
“O-okay! Please d-dont hurt me!” You shouted, taking off anything that was worth something.
“I won’t have to hurt you if you give me what I want!”
“It's not nice to hurt a lady.” A boy jumped down. He had dark, choppy hair but I couldn’t see his eyes. In his back pocket, he started to pull out what looked like a kitchen knife.
“Hehe… and who the hell are you kid?” the stranger asked.
“I’m the prince and future king!” The boy's red eyes shot up at us “Prince Amane and I demand you let this girl go!”
The strange back way from your figure, a scared expression on his face.
“Whatever man! You're crazy!!” He yelled before running out of the alley. The ‘prince’ approached you and smiled.
“I hope he didn’t do anything too bad to you” He softly spoke, putting out a hand for you to grab which you accepted. You studied his facial features and he laughed.
“Checking me out already I see~” He cooed and you blushed.
“N-no! I’m just making sure you are the prince and not some random homeless guy!” You said flustered.
“Haha, I’m just teasing… and I am the prince, isn’t it obvious?” He smirked. You looked at his clothes which were basically glowing.
“I’ll walk you home.” He pulled you out of the alley.
“Okay…”
I turned to Amane and he was looking up at the moon with a soft smile on his face.
“Uhm… do you like the stars..?” You asked.
“I do, I love them so much. They are really a great escape from reality.” He looked at you momentarily before looking back up.
“Escape?”
“Yeah… you know I’m becoming king soon… My parents have been really strict with me about becoming a king and all…” He trailed off into a small rant “It's just stressful sometimes, I don't want to be a king but everyone expects me too.” Your eyes softened looking at the boy.
“I think you will be a great king some day!” You smiled.
He turned to you and his face flushed slightly.
“I-I shouldn’t rant!” He nervously chuckled looking back up. “The moon is beautiful tonight...”
Soon you two approached your house.
“This is my stop Amane!” You smiled and turned to the boy. “And… I think you will be a great king! King of the stars and moon! I think you will do great! I believe in you King Amane Yugi!”
His cheeks turned warm as he heard you.
“Thank you… it really does mean a lot…”
“Of course, I should be going inside now. Thanks for earlier-” You were interrupted when he grabbed your wrist. A grin formed on his lips and he broke the distance and kissed your cheek. Your face turned 50 shades red.
“A good luck charm for you~” He chuckled at your flustered form.
“H-huh?!?!” He let go of your arm and waved to you.
“By Y/n! I know we will see each other very soon~” He said before vanishing.
‘Wait… how did he know my name..?’
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You looked up at the bright sun and squinted your eyes. Your feet were tired. You are currently running to the marketplace with your best friend, Yashiro. Well, more like she was dragging you.
“Come on y/n!!! Prince Teru doesn’t go out too often to go shopping!!” The creamed haired girl squealed. She had a bit of a crush on the prince… well I mean of course, who wouldn’t want to be a princess. I almost fell on my face when she started to pick up the pace.
“Slow down Nene!” You yelled at her “He’s going to be here for a while, it won't matter if we are a couple minutes late!”
“I know but I want to look at his beautiful face as long as I can!”
‘Simp…’ You thought and puffed your cheeks. Yashiro suddenly stopped which caused you to almost fall backward.
“There he is!!” Hearts filled her eyes. You looked to see the blond haired boy surrounded by a couple knights and a small swarm of people.
“Why does Teru even want to go to the marketplace..?” You asked and Yashiro put her hand to your mouth.
“Fanservice!” She looked at you seriously causing you to sweetdrop. You looked at the blond boy and watched his figure as he looked through different stands. Every once and a while he would slip something in his bag and pay the owner of the small shack. For a brief second he looked over to you and made eye contact. You couldn’t help but blush and he chuckled and turned back to what he was doing.
“Let's get closer!” Yashiro grabbed your hand and started running again.
“N-Nene-!” You started but was interrupted when someone abruptly bumped your shoulder causing you to fall.
“ACK- Ow!” You rubbed the back of your head and everything went silent. All you heard was small murmuring. In confusion, you looked up to see a small crowd around you.
“Are you okay?” A majestic voice asked. You looked up to see the one and only prince Teru with his hand out for you to grab.
“A-ah! Yea, I’m fine..!” Your cheeks slightly turned red due to the embarrassment but you stuck out your hand for him to take. He pulled you up with a firm but gentle grip. You looked down at his hand, it felt warm and soft.
“Well, that’s good.” He chuckled. “Are you here with anybody?”
“I a-am actually… with my friend Yashiro…” You looked over to see Nene with a red face and stars in her eyes.
“Oh well then, I’ll let you get going now. Bye!” He waved and continued on.
‘Did you just talk to a prince?!!?!” You shouted in your head. Before you could think anymore, you felt someone shake you.
“Y/N YOU TALKED TO TERU!!! PRINCE TERU!!! WHAT DID HIS EYES LOOK LIKE?! WHAT DID HIS HANDS FEEL LIKE!? TELL ME!!”
“Lavender and the ocean…” You said in a daze.
“LAVENDER AND THE OCEAN?!?!”
Once Teru finished his monthly market shopping, Yashiro was finally ready to leave. You went home and changed into a more comfy outfit. You opened your balcony and breathed in the fresh air. You heard rustling and looked down to the noise. You started to back up until a figure emerged from the shadows. You were about to run back inside until you started to recognize him.
“Hey.” The prince looked up at your balcony.
“U-uhm… hi..?” You looked down “You want me to let you in!?”
“Oh I can come in!” He smiled brightly.
“Yeah! Let me get the door-” You were interrupted when a line of red beads acted like a hook landing next to you. The prince used these beads to climb up to the balcony.
“Y/n, right?”
“Yeah! And you are Prince Teru!” He laughed when you said prince. He took his red beads and they turned into a bracelet around his wrist.
“WOAH! How did you do that?!?!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and examining it.
“Magic.”
“Magic?!”
He laughed.
“You are very interesting y/n…” He looked into your eyes. Before you could say anything else, you heard a knock on your door. You turned to see your mom opening the door and Teru leaning on a wall not wanting to get caught. You turned to him and he had one finger over his mouth.
“Y/n, who are you talking too?” Your mother opened the door.
“Oh! Uhm, no one!” You nervously smiled.
“Alright… But if it's one of those imaginable men again…” She sighed and closed the door.
“EXCUSE ME?!!?” I blushed hard “I DON'T HAVE IMAGINABLE MEN! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!” You heard Teru laugh which made you face him.
“Hey, a young lady shouldnt be inviting boys in her house if her parents don’t know about them…” Teru smirked, causing you to blush hard.
“E-excuse me! I’m not the one who put my finger up to my mouth telling me to keep it a secret!” You pointed at him and he laughed.
“I’m joking. I would never hurt you, I swear.” He walked closer to you. You felt comfortable around him. You two spent the night chatting and laughing. It’s been around one hour and Teru looks up at the moon.
“It's about time I get going…” He started to take off his red bracelet and tied it around the balcony. You were kind of sad when he said he was going to leave.
“Oh… will I see you again..?” You watched him go down. He stopped and looked up at you.
“I’ll be here tomorrow night. Same time. Kay?”
“O-Okay! See you tomorrow!”
Did you seriously meet the prince?
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You walked around the village as you looked through all the stands. You hummed to yourself as your dress flowed in the wind. You stopped when you heard screaming from one of the booths.
“Stop!! Thief!!” The owner screamed as he tried to chase after a boy. He was wearing a hood so you didn’t get a good look at his face. Before you know it, you made eye contact with the hooded boy and he ran behind you.
“Do you know this thief?!” The guy asked before glaring down at the boy. Even though he was wearing a hood, you could see his visible grin. 
“U-uh- no sir! But what did he take..?” You asked.
“He stole an apple and pear from my shack!”
‘All this fuss over an apple and pear..?’ You thought as you sighed. You pulled out two coins from your bag and gave it to the man.
“That looks like it covers it… keep the change.” You grabbed the boy's hand and sped away. 
You glanced at the boy who still had a grin on his face. Before you knew it he started running and he was dragging you.
“W-wait!” You shouted at him. Who the hell is this guy..?
He turned the corner into an isolated area and let go of your wrist.
“Hey! You know I did pay for your shenanigans!” You pulled his hood down to see a boy with choppy hair and golden eyes. He chuckled and leaned in closer to your face. He looked familiar but you didn’t know where from.
“Thanks for that by the way~” He hummed.
“Yeah whatever..!” You backed up, creating distance between the two of you.
“I’m Tsukasa Yugi! Prince Tsukasa Yugi!” He smiled.
“Wait, the prince?!” I pointed to him “Why the hell would a prince steal?!”  
“I just wanted to see what he would do it I took some of his stuff”
‘Wow… he seems nice…’ You thought.
“You can take the apple and pear though! I don’t really need them.” He handed you the fruit.
“EH- you steal it but you won’t take it?” You scoffed. “Aren’t you afraid of getting caught? You are a prince”
“Yeah but everyone looks at Amane, I can do whatever I want and get away with it~!” 
“I feel bad for Amane then…”
“I got an idea!” He looked at you. “We should run away together! It would be great!” 
“Excuse me…” I glared at him. 
“Well that's what I was already doing, I was running away but no one in the castel noticed yet. We should run away, just you and me!”
“I didn’t even know you that long… I can’t just run away! I have a life, a family!”
“Oh…” He trailed off “Well I do hope you change your mind! I’ll come visit you again~!” 
“Wait- visit me?!” You asked but he ran out of the alley way.
“Thank you beautiful girl~!” He smiled, turning to you one last time before running off with an apple in his hand.
“Did he take the apple-” I looked down to just see the pear.
‘Oh this guy…’ I sighed ‘I’ll definitely see him again.’
Part two
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rhettjmc · 3 years ago
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R and L are detectives. McLaughlins’ been on the beat for over a decade. Neal is his rookie partner. They got off on the wrong foot and can’t seem to stand each other. Now they’re forced to be on a stakeout, stuck in a car together for hours on end. What do they do when the tensions get too high?
I asked for prompts ages ago and I only just got round to writing some of them! Here's one of my favs, from one of my favs @soho-x!
“Why do we have to sit in the back?”
“So they don’t see us if they approach from the front.”
“What about if they approach from the back?”
“The rear window is tinted.”
“You know everything, huh?”
“Yup.”
“So what happens when we-“
“Neal, be quiet!” Rhett hissed, cutting off his partner almost instantaneously, his eyes darting out of the window to check their surroundings.
“What, I’m not allowed to ask questions now?!” Link protested.
He knew Rhett wasn’t fond of him, the taller man had done nothing but snap at Link all day. Link wasn’t stupid, he knew that some might find him a little overbearing - but he loved his job, and he was desperate to learn. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been thrown into the deep-end and placed on a stakeout with McLaughlin, of all people.
“No, the whole point is that we stay quiet, we have a criminal to catch!”
“Well, you don’t have to be such a jackass about it! A couple’a kids stealin’ lawn ornaments is hardly criminal!” Link retaliated, sinking further into his seat with a stubborn pout.
Who did this guy even think he was? Sure, his reputation proceeded him, his quick wit and ability to bluff his way out of any situation made him a damn-good detective - but, his social skills were diabolical. It didn’t help that he was incredibly attractive, honeyed curls pulled back from his face and thick eyebrows knitted tightly together. If he wasn’t such an asshole, Link knew he would’ve been on his knees in seconds.
Rhett huffed, scribbling a few notes onto his notepad with a small, blunt pencil. Link tried to peek over his shoulder to see what he was writing, but it was no use, Rhett’s scrawly handwriting was indecipherable.
The pair sat in painful silence for a while, a plethora of unanswered questions sat heavy on the tip of Link’s tongue - but his pride got the better of him. Annoyance and indigence sat thick in the air between them, stagnating with every moment that passed.
Just ask Link opened his mouth to say something, he jumped with fright as a car sped past them, shaking their own vehicle recklessly. The younger of the two leapt over to Rhett’s side of the car, his hand clutching desperately at one of Rhett’s thighs as he attempted to steady himself. He felt McLaughlin inhale sharply, his thigh tensing under Link’s grip.
“Sorry- I- I didn’t-“ Link stumbled over his words, quickly scooting back over to his side of the car.
“Goddamn rookies,” Rhett muttered bitterly, fiddling with the paperwork in his lap in an attempt to disguise his burning cheeks.
“Hey! I’m trying my best!”
“You’re gonna blow the whole case if you’re not careful!”
“This shouldn’t even be a case, just tell the damn woman to buy a new ornament for her lawn! It’s kids havin’ fun!”
“You think I want to be sat here with you?! I’m the best detective they have, I solve real crimes! Not babysitting a dumbass who cant tell a tinted window from a normal one!” Rhett snapped, balling his fists tightly on his thighs.
Link visibly shrunk away from his partner, pulling his jacket tight around his chin to hide his trembling bottom lip. He didn’t want to be a huge baby, especially not in front of Rhett, but he couldn’t help the muted sob that caught in his throat.
He was trying his best.
Just as he eyed the door handle, considering making a quick escape and running back to the station, McLaughlin spoke again.
“Link - Look, I’m sorry,” he sighed, rubbing his palms over his face. “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m tired of this case too but it’s no excuse for being a jackass.”
“S’okay,” Link mumbled, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket.
“It’s not - Come ‘ere, I’ll show you how to take down the notes properly.” Rhett suggested, patting the space directly next to him. They fumbled awkwardly to find a comfortable position that allowed Link to see the files, and this time, it was Rhett’s hand that accidentally settled onto the other’s thigh.
“S-sorry!”
“S’okay,” Link repeated, a devilish grin tugging at his lips this time, enjoying the feeling of his small thigh engulfed by the warm palm.
Rhett let out a breathy laugh, quickly extracting his hand back to his paperwork, his appled cheeks burning red.
“C’mon, you can’t be embarrassed by that, you just spent the past hour yellin’ at me!” Link guffawed, knocking his knee against his partners’.
“Wh- I’m not - I’m not embarrassed!” Rhett protested, shifting to stare at Link to prove a point.
“Prove it.” Link shrugged, a new found confidence filling his veins.
Rhett’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion, “Don’t be stupid, Neal.”
“I’m not, you clearly have a lot of built up… tension,” Link gestured vaguely towards the larger man whose fingers were curled impossibly tight around his pencil, “And we probably have a lot of time to kill.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly.”
“I- I don’t even-“
“Jesus, Rhett - Do you find me attractive?”
Rhett’s reply was instant, “Well, yes.”
“Great, now would you rather be doing paperwork or foolin’ around with me?” Link asked simply, wetting his bottom lip discretely in anticipation.
Rhett grunted, exasperated, before snaking an arm around Link’s shoulders and roughly pulling him closer until their lips were just inches away. “Will you shut up already.”
Link grinned, his eyes still shiny from the momentary meltdown less than five minutes ago. His own hand boldly shifted underneath Rhett’s jacket, latching onto his waist as he finally pressed their lips together. Emboldened by the quiet whines falling from his student’s throat, Rhett sunk his fingers into the dark, choppy hair, tugging roughly.
“Shit!” Link gasped, panting as he pulled away for air. “I woulda pissed you off weeks ago if that’s all it took to get you riled up.”
“Less talking,” Rhett grunted, pulling Link’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pushed him down to lay out on the backseat.
Link squirmed on his back, opening his legs to allow Rhett to slot on top of him, greedily accepting the heavy weight on his chest from the man above him. “Wait, we won’t be able to see t-the suspects if we’re down here,” Link protested, flustered under the feeling of his partner mouthing as his throat.
“Don’t care,” Rhett huffed, licking a filthy stripe up the side of Link’s neck, “Like you said, it’s a stupid case anyway.”
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somethingwittyandweird · 3 years ago
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So, I’ve once again taken up the pixel pen and put together 30 days of swords for Swordtember! I feel like I’ve improved a lot since last year’s offerings, and I felt a lot more confident working with the program and trying more complex things. I even tried my hand with some more animations this year!
Once again, this year’s offerings are a mix of existing swords from various media, redesigns of old swords I drew years ago, and new swords made specifically for this challenge.
Blurbs for each sword under the cut!
Shadow: A long katana-like weapon wreathed in shadowy tendrils. My first attempt to adding an ‘effects’ layer. Shape evokes the yin.
Light: Another katana-like sword with radiant light shining from the tip. Design evokes the yang. Obviously, meant to be the perfectly balanced counterpart to Day 1′s sword.
Insect-Like: A sword that evokes a bee/hive motif. I sorted through a lot of various bug designs that I wasn’t really feeling, but I finally settled on this one as one of the less creepy-crawly kind of bug.
Ghostly: A spectral, animated pirate scimitar. The concept of a ghost blade made me ask what a dead blade returning to life would look like. I settled on a broken hilt with an animation of the ethereal weapon appearing in place of the lost blade.
Lava: A sword with a motif of a river of lava running down its length. I spent a long time staring at Zelda fire temples to get the look of the ‘rocks’ floating in the river of lava to look right.
Snow: A chilling, translucent icicle blade with a snowdrift design on the hilt. I decided to try and create a light reflective effect to sell the ice aspect, and I’m really surprised at how good it turned out in the end.
Storm: A bronze blade with a detailed painting of a thundercloud and choppy seas on the blade, and wind designs in the background.
Anchor: A blade made in the shape of an anchor, with a detail of seaweed wrapping the hilt. This one is certainly better at bludgeoning than slicing- I took a cue or two from armor-breaking blades with similar top-heavy designs.
Summoned: A collage of the prior 8 blades, plus a new broad blade, emerging from several portals. These were initially all new blades, but I felt it was cooler to reuse the prior swords for the background blades. Inspired by the “Gate of Babylon” ability from the Fate series. I’ve never seen the Fate series.
Banished: A long blade being broken apart and drawn into a void portal. This is the only sword where I filled in the background of some sort of room, but I felt it was helpful to emphasize the vanishing point.
Dwarven: A short blade with angular, detailed designs on the blade and hilt.
Elven: A recreation of the Master Sword from Zelda. Because it’s my favorite sword to draw and I wanted the excuse. Hylians are close enough to elves for my purposes.
Delicate: A sword made of glass. Once again very proud of the light reflective effect. Very sharp, but not very durable....
Aquatic: A colorful blade with a motif of kelp, coral, and a clownfish hilt. Definitely the most visually popping sword of the bunch.
Forest: A longsword with vines wrapping the crossguard and roots twined around the hilt. Enchanted leaves swirl around the blade. A very druidic blade.
Broken: The delicate sword, shattered into pieces. Maybe glass weapons weren’t the best idea.
Bone: A recreation of Blutgang from Fire Emblem: 3 Houses. The Crest of Maurice, this blade’s associated crest, is visible in the background.
Floral: A long, elegant blade with a lotus motif in the guard and hilt. I really like the palette on this one. 
Musical: A sword with a staff design on the blade, clefs on the crossguard, a piano keyboard for a hilt, and a whole note for a pommel. Probably makes noise when you hit things with it.
Blessed: A golden, hallowed blade surrounded by holy light and angelic figures. I’m very pleased that the shape of the angels reads so clearly despite being pretty small in size.
Eyes: A shadowy blade covered in glaring red eyes, with a toothy smile for a crossguard. Inspired by Pride’s shadowy tendrils from FMA:B. 
Alive: A recreation of the Mimicry blade from Lobotomy Corporation. A wicked cleaver covered in exposed, warped flesh. An unexpectedly nasty blade, I think I’ll steer clear of more horrific elements in future.
Multi-purpose: A recreation of Leon (Squall’s) gunblade from Final Fantasy VIII. Gunblades are a little silly, but fun.
Vampire Hunter: A longsword with a cross on the guard and a wooden stake inlaid in the blade (so it’s effective against its quarry). A looming bat-shaped shadow glares from the background.
Translucent: An ancient-looking hilt with a cracked, green gem. The blade is made of energy and flickers in and out in time with the gem pulsing. This is a relic of an age past, and the magic that once powered it is all but drained away...
Stone: This is a pointed, angular obsidian blade with a tigers-eye gem for a pommel. One of a series of elemental swords I designed a while back.
Cosmic: This is a broad, star-studded blade with a green glow emitting from the blade. The palette is directly inspired from the 3AM Dress aesthetic from Homestuck, and the symbol of the Space aspect is visible above the grip. I make no apology.
Mechanical: A large blade that folds out segment by segment to its full extent. I had this idea early in the month, and worked on getting it just right by the end. Things that can fold up into a convenient size then fold out to a full extent are very much my jam.
Wind: A blade that curls into a spiral evocative of a gust of wind. 
Ornate: A bejeweled blade adorned with filigree, with a crossguard in the shape of a crown. A truly ostentatious weapon.
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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago
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3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian
Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374
Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.
Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.
Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.
“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”
He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.
For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?
He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.
Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.
“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”
He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky’s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.
“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”
“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”
“But you called back.”
“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”
“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”
Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.
“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”
“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.
“Coulda.”
Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.
“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”
“Not a very tight seal.”
“Guess not,” Sam agrees.
“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”
“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”
“You and those wings.”
“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”
“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.
“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”
“So it was illegal?”
Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.
“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”
“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.
“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.
“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”
“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”
“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.
Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.
“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”
“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.
“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”
“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”
“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”
Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.
“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”
“I have my system. My rules.”
“Oh yeah? What rules?”
“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”
“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”
“Don’t. It… helps.”
And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?
“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.
“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.
“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”
“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.
“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.”
“You wanted me in Tunisia?”
“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?
“Not like that.”
“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”
“Right. Can’t do any of that.”
“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”
“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”
Sam snorts.
“You were old-fashioned then.”
“I assume you had a team on the ground.”
“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”
“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”
“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”
It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.
Sam shifts in his seat.
“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”
“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”
It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.
“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.
“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”
“And that’s not a date?”
Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.
“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.
“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.
“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”
They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.
“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.
“What do I have to make amends to you for?”
“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”
Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.
72 notes · View notes
ookami-tsun · 3 years ago
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Foolish
Ajax x reader
Hi hi~ I am Tsun and I am going to say that this story is possibly horrible, my lack of confidence appeared again~ I feel like this story kinda ooc, what do you think?
"A-achoo!"
I stopped for a moment to sneeze as I couldn't handle the cold well. I can't believe that I managed to come all the way here to Dragonspine to enjoy the scenery.
I am a photographer and despite being one, I have never been out of Liyue frequent enough to enjoy the view outside before.
My compositions are getting worse each second I stay inside, it is time that I come out and learn of the outside world!
I have covered quite a big amount of space while avoiding those dangers here, I can't believe that it is not like what everyone said, it is super safe... Just not from the cold. What dangers could this place contain?
There are no sign of living...
...Just that the path I walk looks like a fresh battlefield, and it reminds me of him.
I once saw him fighting energetically while I attempted to sneak out and away from the bodyguards that my father hired for me. The chaos that he brought made my heart beat, what a beautiful scene...
"I am so glad that I came here, maybe I should sneak out to here more often!" I exclaimed as I walked pass the area into an area with big blueish tree in the center
Frostbearing tree
"What a beautiful scene this is! I should take more images, I can feel inspirations filling up inside me!"
Without knowing the dangers the more I travelled deeper into the dragonspine, I rush towards the tree with the kamera...
Filtering out all the sounds that entered my ears, I got absorbed into my hobby.
...Without knowing that soon, I will regret my action.
A huge shadow covered my sight causing me to lose my focus.
"Who the heck is trying to ruin my focus..! Ugh...!!" I turned around as I cursed, wanting to show that person my temper and wrath for ruining everything, but I instantly realized after finding out who was behind me that I might actually be the one that is going to bear their wrath for ruining the piece and quiet in this ever snowing place.
Without waiting, I ran. I shall go to wherever my legs bring me to, just let me leave this huge white hilichurl away!
...
"I am sorry...!" I screamed as I try to get my ass away, I have been running for a long time, more than I have ever tried in my life just to run into another one of them noticing me and started to target me
Why did I think that this place is super safe for a moment?!
I squat down at the realization that I will not be able to escape, maybe I should have prepared my coffin and will (I have no possession that I can pass on though...) before heading out to such place alone...!
My legs that have never let me down before actually let me down at this timing, nothing else I can do to raise them any further... I should have been serious when my parents told me to exercise..!
"I will be a good person and stay out of your sight, please let me off..!"
However, no matter how much I begged, those two monsters will never understand and I can only close my eyes and wait for all this pain and horror to start.
At this moment, I suddenly heard someone running before painful groans sounded from both sides.
"Little girl, don't open your eyes till I tell you to" a super energetic and trilled voice sounded out and it gave me a sense of safety as I guessed what happened
It is alright that I did not prepare coffin and will... I might not be dying today. I am glad that I am very lucky to encounter kind soul that will help me out of this predicament
"Ok..." the comforting voice ran out again as I heard his footstep approaching me "It is safe right now, please open your eyes."
Opening my eyes, I saw a handsome guy who have short, choppy orange hair and dull blue eyes. They seem to pull me deep into them before I snapped out of that embarrassing state of daze.
I never thought I would encounter that beautiful set of eyes outside of Liyue!
"Nice to meet you, I hope you are not scared by those... Well, why are you doing somewhere so dangerous when you do not own any vision?"
I glanced away while thinking of excuse while thinking of how to escape this question
"L-look at the weather, isn't the sun beautiful?!" I said as I took some photos with my slightly damaged Kamera which suffered when I was running crazily.
"Hahaha! You are amusing!" He smiled in amusement as he pulled me up to stand. "My name is Childe, it is a pleasure to meet you, young lady, may I ask for your name? If you are free, can I travel with you?"
I feel like he will disrupt my trip despite how nice he will be if I can take a picture of him... I better get rid of him, but the safety if I have him around...!
"I am Y/N, and nope, I am busy and I will be going now... Thank you very much for helping"
While refusing to be accompanied, I handed some berries to him as a thanks while walking off, it is the best my socially awkward self can handle!
"Wait, young lady.. You are not going to explore this place by yourself right?"
I froze as he hit the mark and that started the whole you chase me while I try to run
"Wait for me, I shall accompany you!"
"I am fine...!"
As he chased me around, I somehow got out of Dragonspine and was found by my father who was surrounded by the bodyguards and was pulled by the ear as I was reprimanded by him.
Feeling upset, I tried to look for the culprit who cause me to leave the place early and made to be grounded without having the chance to take more pictures.
But I turned around and saw no one around..
...
I got home and have an earful of scolding before getting told that guy was asked to help and find me as I disappeared in a way that was different from before, proving that it is might be worse than any other normal disappearance moments of mine.
He...! I will not let him off this easily the next time I see him..! He let me get chased for so long before saving me...!
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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
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war paint | 4 | encounter
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pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader
length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters
summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)
tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut
After that, Nishimura wouldn’t stop antagonizing you.
He seemed to blame you for his loss on the training pitch, growling loudly to Hasumi about how slow you were, how you stumbled around like a defenseless lamb, how you refused to meet Bakugou’s blade with your own until threatened with discharge. He wasn’t wrong, but you still felt like his loss was his own doing - if he were as good at swordwork as he claimed, he wouldn’t have needed a partner to best the captain.
This didn’t stop him from ratcheting up his hostility, however. The bugs in your bed soon became small animals, and it seemed that every time Captain Bakugou’s back was turned, you found yourself tripping over an ankle or stumbling from an elbow in your back.
You’d borne his antics quietly up until now, for fear of Captain Bakugou finding you out and delivering on his threats from the mess hall. But when Kaminari and Sero began tossing you anxious, worried looks, you knew that Nishimura’s actions had to stop. If other soldiers were catching on, it would only be a matter of time until Captain Bakugou took notice, and then both of you would be done for.
One evening, you pulled back your covers to find a rat splayed in your sheets, and that was the moment you snapped.
“Nishimura,” you growled, using a shirt to grab the rat and throwing it at him in disgust. “Outside, right now!”
You stalked out of the dorms, out into the still evening air of spring. A warm breeze blew around you as Nishimura exited the dormitory after you.
“This stops now,” you said, seething.
He ran a hand through his dark hair and pinned you with a disinterested look. “Or what? You’ll run to Captain Bakugou?”
You gritted your teeth. “Bakugou is the last person we need finding out about this, which is why you need to knock it off. What happens if he conducts a random bunk check and finds those?”
Nishimura smirked and your temper flared. “Scared, L/N?”
Your hands balled into fists. “Nishimura, you’re going to stop this right fucking now or I’m going stop it myself.”
Nishmura raised a dark eyebrow. “I look forward to you trying. You do anything to me, and I’ll do much worse to you.”
A frustrated noise escaped you and you opened your mouth to reply, but you were cut off by the soft tread of a boot nearby. Swearing, you shoved Nishimura back through the door, following him quickly and pulling it closed behind you. Soldiers weren’t allowed out of the barracks after hours and you had no doubt you’d be subjected to a punishment worse than extra training if you were caught out fighting with Nishimura after dark.
Nishimura scoffed and turned his back to you, striding back down the hall to your shared bunkroom. You lingered near the door, listening closely for any sound of the person outside. Silence rang in your ears, and as long moments passed, you finally felt yourself relax. You took a steadying breath and leaned heavily against the wall.
Suddenly, the door handle was ripped from your grasp, swinging wide open.
“Going somewhere?” Captain Bakugou smirked down at you, his crimson eyes bright even in the dark. Even a step down, he still stood half a head taller than you, and again the power of his presence rolled over you like a thunderstorm.
You felt your mouth drop open and you scrambled upright. “N-no, Captain! I was just...uh…”
He raised a blonde eyebrow, and the shift of his features distracted you. You were suddenly struck by the ridiculous thought that he was so terribly handsome - or would be if he wasn’t so utterly terrifying. You wondered dumbly why this man was unmarried, shouting after a battalion of guardsmen when he could just as well be tucked up in his marquisate with some count’s pretty daughter.
You doubted he could be so horrible to his fellow noblemen, not if he didn’t want to start an armed conflict, so surely his personality wouldn’t be such a deterrent to the ladies of the court…so why then was he here?
“Sure are taking your sweet time to come up with an excuse, pretty boy,” Bakugou leered down at you. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about two people arguing outside just now, would you? Something about not wanting Captain Bakugou to find out.”
You gaped at him. “S-sir?”
Bakugou leaned down, smirking, his mouth hovering by your ear. This close, you could feel the heat of him, and smell something sweet and smokey. Your brain emptied in a combination of fear and, stupidly, the thrill of a man so close.
“You have five seconds to get back to your bunk, soldier,” he said softly, his breath whispering over the shell of your ear. Your thoughts slammed back into you with a sudden urgency and you scrambled back from him.
“Yes, sir!” you yelped, turning tail and sprinting back to your room. You stumbled over to your bed in the dark, climbing into it with your heart hammering. Your mind raced and you strained your ears to listen for him, wondering wildly if he would follow. He’d overheard your conversation, or part of it. He couldn’t know what you were hiding from him, though, could he? Otherwise he would have followed up on his threats from the mess hall, wouldn't he?
Silence settled over the dorm, however, and you sat there, staring into the dark. The only sound was the puff of your own nervous breaths, and after what seemed like hours, your heartbeat began to slow again. Minutes more and you finally released a sigh, letting your body relax into your sheets. Exhaustion washed over you like a warm wave, and despite yourself, your felt your eyes flutter shut. You turned your head to the pillow, and let yourself be tugged carefully into sleep.
As you finally drifted off, you thought you noted the soft snick of a door closing.
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You left the barracks late the next evening to begin your patrol, glad to see Sero’s friendly face waiting for you in the palace courtyards.
If anything, Nishimura had been more unbearable the day after, hovering over you incessantly and tracking your every movement with a hawkish eye. Similarly, you felt like Bakugou lurked behind every corner, ready to spring closed like a trap over you and Nishimura, a discharge on his lips and an explosion building in his hand. As the day passed, you felt the tension mounting at your temples, and when evening finally rolled around, you were unbearably relieved to finally be separated from Nishimura, both of you assigned to separate patrol routes within the palace.
“Why do you look like this patrol is the happiest moment of your entire life?” Sero wondered as you approached, grinning widely.
You scowled up at him, knocking into his gangly arm. “I can’t be happy to walk the castle with a friend?”
“Aww, we’re friends,” Sero cooed, patting your head condescendingly. “Thanks, little guy.”
You brushed him off. “Ugh, I take it back. Don’t talk to me for the rest of patrol.”
He chuckled, falling into step beside you. His choppy bangs fell over his forehead in dark spikes. “Something on your mind?”
You sighed, fingers picking absently at the end of your sleeves. “Nishimura’s been more awful than ever and Captain Bakugou’s on to us. I think he overheard us arguing outside last night.”
Sero nodded thoughtfully. “He hear anything specific?”
You bit your lip. “I’ve been running the argument over in my head. We didn’t explicitly talk about fighting. I think he just overheard that we didn’t want him finding out,” you let out a heavy breath, “which could be worse…”
Sero gave you a sympathetic look as you rounded the corner into the castle proper. “You’re still here, though, aren’t you? Maybe he’s giving you a final chance.”
You snorted. The day Katsuki Bakugou gave anyone a chance, you would strip naked and announce your gender to him yourself. A snowball had better chances in the inner circles of hell than you did of receiving Bakugou’s mercy.
“He’s probably waiting until he can think of the most painful way to slowly torture a confession out of someone,” you said and Sero winced.
“It was nice knowing you, L/N,” he said. A silence fell over you after that, both of you contemplating your unfortunate fate at the hands of your captain. You trudged companionably through the halls, peering into offices and saluting nobility as you passed them.
You couldn’t help but notice the nobles within the castle looked a different class from Bakugou altogether - their clothes bright and their faces round with good food and easy living. Bakugou, however, seemed to live in well-worn boots and the starched collar of his captain’s uniform, and the angular planes of his face spoke to years of hard training and meticulous service. The only thing that seemed to put him on equal footing with these nobles was his natural aura of incredible command.
You were wondering again what drove him to become the commander of the castle forces when you and Sero peered into a darkened office. The room belonged to the master of coin, and even in the dim light you could see it was lavishly appointed, with a huge oak desk that dominated the center of the room, vaulted ceilings, and ornate gold molding creeping along the walls.
You gave the room a cursory once over, then turned to make your way back to your route, until a quiet rustle disturbed the silence. You halted, grabbing Sero’s lanky arm.
He gave you a wide-eyed look, and you both turned back to the desk. There was a quiet sound, like a careful breath.
“Hello?” Sero said. “Is anyone here?”
Silence pressed down on you.
“Come out and we won’t hurt you,” you tried, feeling your hand sliding over the hilt of your sword.
There was another rustle, and a dark shape materialized from behind the desk. You bit down on a swear.
“Who are you?” Sero asked, but the figure stayed silent, simply standing there.
You unsheathed your sword, wincing at the loud ringing slide of the metal cutting through the ominous silence. “It could be the spy. Get the captain, Sero.”
Sero looked at you nervously. “I’d rather not leave you.”
You brandished your sword. “You’re faster, and we need to take them in. Be quick.”
He regarded you for another moment then took a step back, slipping out of the room. You heard the loud slap of his boots as his pace picked up in the hall, leaving you alone with the figure.
You peered closely at them, noting the way their dark hood fell over their face. It completely covered the figure, revealing no detail except their height and general shape. They were reasonably tall, and you thought they must be a man, judging from their square shoulders and imposing stature.
“Who are you?” you asked again. They stayed silent and still before you.
“Why are you here?” you tried again. They said nothing, but they took a slow step out from behind the desk, the dark fabric of their cloak swishing softly.
You took a step back. “Stay where you are.”
The figure paid you no heed, taking another step toward you. You held your sword out in front of you, feeling your pulse jump in your throat.
Almost faster than you could see, the figure’s cloak moved. There was a flash of something bright red in your vision, and then they were whipping out a sword, striking out at your own blade.
You gasped as the shock of their strike rang up your arm and you pushed them off with all your strength. They took a step back then raised their arm overhead for another blow, coming down on you fast. You parried, ducking out of the way.
You tried to force them onto the back foot but they were just slightly too quick, catching the swipe you aimed at their side. There was a clatter from the hall outside the room, and the figure’s head raised, angling towards the door. They whipped their sword up, slamming into yours with unbearable strength, and knocked you clean to the floor.
You scrambled onto your hands, grasping at your sword to defend yourself, but they were already whirling around, the tails of their cloak snapping the air behind them.
“Stop!” you shouted, but they had already raised themselves onto the desk, leaping onto the sill of the large window behind it, kicking it open and breaking the lock. Then they leapt, disappearing off the ledge into the dark night.
Swift footsteps sounded in the hall and Sero’s gasping breaths came at the doorway.
“L/N!” he said and you whirled around, breathing heavily yourself. A head of unruly blonde hair appeared at Sero’s shoulder, and Bakugou's eyes darted quickly around the room before narrowing in on you.
“The window!” you shouted, gesturing at it. “He knocked me down and jumped out.”
Both their heads whipped up to look at the clattering window panes, the latch hanging loosely from the left side, flapping limply in the breeze. Bakugou crossed to the window, planting a foot up on the desk to push himself onto the ledge and peering outside.
You tried to ignore the way his thighs bunched powerfully in his breeches as he did so. Now was so not the time.
“You okay?” Sero asked kindly, helping you to your feet.
You nodded. “Yes. He didn’t have enough time to hurt me, just pushed me over and ran.”
Bakugou turned back to you, fixing you with an unblinking crimson stare. The hair on your arms stood up at the intensity of his focus. “What did he look like?” he demanded.
You shook your head. “I couldn’t see. He wore a cloak and it covered everything. He was tall, maybe just shorter than you, but that was all I could tell.”
Bakugou’s mouth twisted in a scowl. “How did he move?”
You thought for a moment. “He was faster than me - trained in basics, I think. He used a lot of the standard strikes we go through in drills. And he was notably...violent? He put tons of power into each blow, he was definitely trying to kill.”
You could feel Sero shudder behind you.
Bakugou regarded you impassively, eyes flicking up and down over you. “Every time something happens, it seems like you’re involved, pretty boy. Want to tell me why that is?”
Your heart leapt into your throat. “What? No, I didn’t--! Sero was with me, I--!”
Bakugou leapt down from the desk, prowling over to you. “Not the whole time he wasn’t.”
Your eyes widened. “Captain, no! I didn’t--you think I let him escape?”
Bakugou leaned into your space, his face inches from your own. Your breathing shallowed and you froze up, locked in place as if by some unseen force. His eyes were so, so red, burning into you like hot embers. You felt like he could see straight through you to your skeleton, the ferocity of his focus carving through you like a hot knife through butter.
“You tell me, pretty boy,” he said, so quiet that you could barely hear it, even scant inches from him. It was a disturbing turnaround from his usual violent screaming. “I hear you begging your little heart out to keep me from finding something out and then this happens?”
Your stomach dropped. “Captain, I swear I wouldn’t.”
He smirked. “Or maybe, you’re just so incapable a soldier that you couldn’t help but let him escape. Which is it?”
Anger crashed over you like a river breaking through a dam. “I did my best, sir," you said slowly, meeting his eye. "I didn't choose to let him go.”
Bakugou considered you for a moment, scarlet eyes darting over your face like he was cataloguing your every feature. Finally he drew back from you, pushing you into Sero’s chest.
“Take the shrimp back to the barracks,” he said dismissively, turning back to the room. He scanned over its contents with a keen eye. “I’m done with you.”
Sero saluted, gently taking your elbow. “Come on, L/N,” he said quietly.
You bit your lip and let him steer you towards the door, trying to quell your anger. Before you could exit, however, Bakugou called back over his shoulder.
“Careful what you do next, pretty boy,” he said, the hint of a sneer in his voice. “I’ll be watching you.”
With that, Sero tugged you from the room and you followed him closely back towards the barracks, Bakugou’s threat weighing heavily on your shoulders.
Fucking great.
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