#genuinely have been kicking my little legs and giggling and twirling my hair about it for weeks now. y’all are lucky im holding back details
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stinkybreath · 7 months ago
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yaaaaay I get to do extremely lgbt shit later today, the first day of pride, this is an excellent omen
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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years ago
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the photoshoot: tom holland imagine
a/n | i got this idea from a facebook post i saw and ran with it! i’ve never included a photo story in my writing so i hope i didn’t botch it! my WIPs are all pretty angsty so i figured i’d fluff it up a little for y’all (also this gif amirite)
summary | you are picked for a social experiment: a couples’ photoshoot where you don’t meet the person you’re posing with until the beginning of the session.
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tom x fem reader | contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff | word count: 2.1k | enjoy!
“My god, just pick a dress, y/n. We’ve been here for hours.”
Your friend stood with her arms crossed as you studied yourself in the dressing room mirror, making faces of content then unrest, unsure if this dress was the one to go with- or if it could’ve been any of the last 15 you’d tried on.
“I can’t decide, maybe I just need to go through them again-”
“No!” your friend said, grabbing the pile of hanged clothes off of the hook on the wall and holding them out of your reach. “You’re overthinking this, it’s just a photoshoot! You don’t even know the guy! And the one you have on is obviously the best choice.”
You turned back to the mirror and stared at the starchy white fabric of the dress, its eyelet lace design making it a tight fit that accentuate your curves. You sighed in resignation. “Fine. But if the pictures come out and I look like a ghost, I’m blaming you.”
You took the outfit home and laid it out in preparation for tomorrow, kicking yourself for having signed up for this in the first place. After a long week, you only wanted to stay in your sweatpants in bed tomorrow instead of getting all dolled up to go take photos in cliche poses with a total stranger. You sent your friend a passive aggressive text about it, since she was the one who made you sign up for the ‘social experiment’, and all you received back was an annoyingly curt “you’ll thank me later”. You threw your phone aside and went to bed early, crossing your fingers that tomorrow would go by as quickly as possible. 
You arrived to the shoot location the next day- a vineyard an hour away that you got turned around twice trying to find. Once you stepped out of the car, the photographer came to greet you, a friendly woman in her mid thirties wearing all black and a massive camera swinging around her neck like an oversized necklace.
“Ah, y/n, thank you so much for coming! It seems like your partner is running a little behind, so we’ll just have to wait for a few,” she smiled bleakly, running away to ridicule one of the men setting up the reflective umbrellas.
“We want to capture the people, not the sun, Nicholas.”
You leaned against your car already annoyed at your partner for failing to show up. You had woken up two hours early to curl your hair and do a full face of makeup, and this is how you get rewarded? You swore up and down that you’d smack your friend when you saw her later. The photographer, whose name you learned was Karen—typical—brought you into a tangle of grapevines to test the lighting and shoot some practice photos. You were already horribly uncomfortable when it was just you standing alone, and couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be when another clueless anti-model had to pose next to you.
“Doll, just put your hand on your hip, like this-
“Well no, not like that—uh, Nicholas, can you go pose her?
“Just smile, dear. You look...really unhappy.”
It was nightmarish. 
You were saved by the bell as another car pulled into the lot and a guy of average height wearing a crisp blazer stepped out, wearing the snobbiest looking pair of wayfarers you’d ever seen. 
“Oh, great! Tom’s here,” Karen cheered, happy to rush away from the agonizing one-on-one session you’d just had. You looked at Nicholas, trying again to fix the umbrella.
“Tom?” you asked, and he just nodded. 
“Yeah, Tom Holland. Don’t know how she managed to get an A-lister out here for this, but that’s Karen,” he responded, walking away.
Wait, what?
Karen waltzed back over to you with him in tow, a smile plastered on her face so big you thought the one she flashed you earliest must’ve been entirely insincere.
“Great! Here we are! y/n, this is Tom,” she said, pushing him forward to stand in front of you. He gave you a bright smile and stuck out his hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, love.”
You shook his hand without speaking because you literally had forgotten how to breathe. This was your stranger? You’d had the biggest, most incurable crush on Tom Holland since you were a teenager, and all of your social skills that you’d picked up as an adult had clearly just evaporated in the sun.
“Uh, hi-” Karen and Tom shared a laugh at your starstruck expression. “Sorry, do you two know each other?”
“Yeah, Karen and I go way back,” Tom said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tight. “She taught me how to model.”
“Well, it’s not hard when you have this face to work with!” She pinched Tom’s cheeks and grinned, then looked you up and down, reminding you with a glance how hard it had been just to get you to smile for the camera without looking deranged. Ouch, Karen.
“Okay, well, let’s get started then,” she skipped off back to the rows of vines lining the field and Tom ushered you with his hand. “After you,” he smiled. 
You tried not to stumble over your heels stepping in the uneven earth below you, and Karen brought the camera up to her face with a squeal. “Alright, sweeties, let’s make the camera think you’re falling in love!” Karen, you decided, was an extremely over-the-top human. “This is your meet cute. You’re just seeing each other for the first time. Make it sparkle.”
That was all she gave you direction-wise, and you and Tom just stood staring at each other a few feet apart as the camera started clicking. The shade of your cheeks made it look like you’d just run a marathon and you just started giggling out of sheer nerve, making Tom start to work up a laugh, too. 
“She’s a bit much, isn’t she?” he motioned with his eyes so Karen couldn’t pick up on his comment.
“I don’t even know what she wants me to do.” you said, concentrating on a bushel of grapes instead of Tom’s dreamy face because you were worried if you spent more than three seconds looking into his eyes, you’d pass out cold.
“Well I’m basically a pro at this, so let me help you, okay?” he said, reaching out for your hand again. You took it as your heart did somersaults in your chest, and as he exclaimed “ooh, nice nails”, you genuinely smiled, giving Karen exactly the shot she wanted. 
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Your hand was shaking, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m absolutely clueless!”
Tom shrugged and looked off to the side. “Well, you said it, not me...”
You gasped and feigned offense, whipping your hand out of his. “How dare you!”
He laughed and tried to take your hand again, but you dramatically swiped your arm out of his reach, and the camera picked up a series of shots that made it look like you and Tom were playing ninja. 
“Uh, what are we doin’ here, folks?” Karen questioned as you and Tom ran in circles around one another, him trying to get at your hands and you doing everything in your power not to let it happen. Your nerves melted away as the endorphins kicked in. Eventually Tom gave up and decided to grab hold of you, pick you up and twirl you around, in the chaos yelling “We need to please the Karen!”. You were laughing and out of breath from running around, and you slowly lowered your head to his, the look in his eyes reading that he was about to kiss you...
“That was amazing!” Karen squealed, shaking you from Tom’s mesmerizing stare, pushing the moment past you. Tom let you down to the ground, both of you shocked that he’d made such a bold move in the first place. He wiped his hands on the legs of his pants and cleared his throat as you fiddled with some of the curls that had come loose around your face. Karen couldn’t be happier; the money shot came out looking like a magazine ad.
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 Tom gave you a sheepish smile. “Uh, sorry if that was too-”
“It wasn’t,” you batted your lashes at him and could’ve sworn his cheeks were tinted just as pink as yours.
Karen’s loud voice pitched in as you had ended up standing still, a photographer’s worst nightmare.
“Okay, so we’ve met, now show me that chemistry!” she shouted, getting an eye roll from you and a snicker from Tom at your reaction. 
“Is she expecting us to fall madly in love now that we’ve known each other for more than five minutes?” you asked, fluffing out the skirt of your dress.
“Weirder things have happened,” Tom shrugged his shoulders and winked at you before turning around and walking towards a cluster of vines, picking off a grape and popping in his mouth with a satisfying crunch.
“Oh, are we allowed to eat them? I’m dying out here in the sun!” You followed his pattern and picked a few grapes out of the brambles, noticing a few rows away that there was a small table with two glasses and a bottle of wine. Tom followed your gaze to the alcohol and looked back at you, his expression reflecting exactly what you were thinking.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.
You collectively ignored Karen’s remarks as you wandered to the table and filled the glasses.
“Are we sure this is here for us?” you looked around skeptically. 
“I have no idea, darling. Cheers.”
You sat down in the grass and clinked the flutes together, still unable to believe this was really happening to you. You and Tom started to talk about nothing, already feeling a thousand times more comfortable around each other, bonding over this shared weird experience—and the fresh off-the-vine wine certainly didn’t hesitate to calm your nerves.
As Tom was leaning closer to you, gaze notably flicking from your eyes to your lips, Karen snuck up to you—pretending to be a grape?—and snapped photos of your impromptu picnic. 
“Just adorable,” she murmured, and you almost spilled your wine because of how startled you were. Damnit, Karen, you keep ruining the moment. But she didn’t think twice about the interruption; she almost had tears in her eyes because of how perfect the shots were.
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You both sat up and away from one another, feeling stiff now that a lens was pointed at you.
“Well, don’t stop on my account!” she chortled, wholly unaware her debut was what killed the vibe.
Tom stood up and offered his hand to help you stand, not immediately letting it go as you wandered to a different part of the sunny vineyard. You pushed the photographer out of your mind as you chatted again, bumping each other’s shoulders as you walked and not minding it a bit. Every time you saw a certain glint in Tom’s eyes, any moment he caught you looking, there could’ve been a spark there that ignited something more. But you were constantly interrupted by shutter clicks, yells at Nicholas, and annoying directing interjections by the appropriately-named Karen.
At one point, Tom had clearly had enough of the pestering, and took your hand, pulling you into an array of closely packed trees so you couldn’t be found. 
“Woah- what are you doing?” you asked, confused at the sudden change of scenery.
“Guys? Where did you go?” You heard a shrill voice coming from outside the trees, and Tom attempted to shush you by pulling you close into his body and covering half your face with his hand. 
“Shut up shut up shut-”
You heard Karen’s voice grow quieter as she searched in the opposite direction.
“Tom!” you chuckled, prying his fingers off of your cheek. “You’re going to smear my makeup!”
“It’s not like you need it, y/n,” he said without thinking, attention still focused on hiding.
Your whole face grew hot and you couldn’t help but smile like a complete fool. When he looked down at your reaction, he noticed the weight in what he’d said, and made the cutest giggle you’d ever heard, trying to avert the focus from his compliment.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t handle another photo directive being shouted in my ear,” he breathed while pushing his hair back out of his eyes in some devilishly handsome way. You were still clutching the hand that had been on your face, and Tom looked down to interlock his fingers with yours.
“You do know we’re at a photoshoot, right?”
He playfully shoved your shoulder with his free hand at your sassy comment.
“Just saying, I thought you were a pro-”
You heard the photographer’s voice come into the foreground again and you abruptly ran as fast as you could with heels on, still holding Tom’s hand as you trailed behind him. You found yourselves in an even more tightly packed bramble of trees, facing each other with barely a grapevine’s width between you. 
“Oh, you have a stick in your hair,” you whispered, reaching up to pick a tiny branch out of his curls. As you looked from his hair to his eyes, he was staring deeply into yours, prompting you to leave your hand resting at the back of his neck. 
Wordlessly, he leaned in and kissed you in one fell swoop, and you thought you might implode on the spot when his lips came in contact with your own. He tasted like cologne and crisp grape juice and it was a mixture of scents you hoped would never leave your nose—just the way he kissed you so sweetly made you want to bathe in the stuff.
When he pulled back, he brought your intertwined fingers up to cup your cheek, and you let your hand rest on the back of his as you tilted your head to instigate another kiss, still enjoyably dizzied from the one before. 
Tom let his mouth linger over yours after another long kiss before coming up for air again, and you could see his eyes wrinkling at the corners, knowing he was smiling without being able to see the rest of his face.
“You know, I was hesitant to do the whole ‘stranger photoshoot’ thing, but now I’m pretty happy I was able to be convinced.” He sighed contently.
“This was more of a stranger hide-and-go-seek than a photoshoot, I feel like,” you spoke from your lighthearted chest in airy breaths and moved to lock lips again, unable to get enough of your stranger. He put his hand on the small of your back and leaned you backward, deepening the already electric hold he had on you.
“I don’t want you to be a stranger anymore, darling,” he mumbled against you, sending vibrations through you with his voice. You just whispered a soft “okay”, lost for words, as his mouth touched your cheek, your jaw, and then back to your lips for more of your wine-infused kisses. You were wishing this moment could last forever, Tom holding you and sending shivers down your spine, right as you heard a click and saw the bright white flash of a bulb. 
“Jesus, Karen!”
But she didn’t care that you were mad; her experiment had worked, she’d gotten her strangers together—and just look at that shot.
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cosmicbash · 4 years ago
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I'm hesitant to post this, because??? Honestly?? I'm not 100% sure I haven't already posted it. I was perusing my Google docs trying to relabel stuff as posted and such to better organize and found this, which @lemon-coke and me both can't figure out if I ever posted. So.
Better to repost it and give you all something to reread then not post it all I assume.
Sorry!
It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?
A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it. 
He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.
By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.
He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room. 
It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees. 
Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.
But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.
It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.
So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."
The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.
How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?
But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays. 
The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.
He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.
"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly." 
Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.
"Y-yeah."
Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though. 
Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol. 
A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.
It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.
The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.
But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst. 
Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.
He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.
“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.
He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.
A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy. 
Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop. 
The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“
Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.
It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk. 
“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”
He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.
The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.
“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.
He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is. 
The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet. 
It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.
It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.
"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-" 
"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"
When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.
It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair. 
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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years ago
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For A Greater Good Epilogue
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Not my gif
Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.
Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc
Masterlist
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]
[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]
[Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18]
Warnings: mentions of sex
-
The game had started as a simple distraction while Charlie slept. Back at their cabin in Romania, almost two weeks after the incident in London and receiving confirmation that Voldemort had returned, Charlie and Kate forced themselves to do something they were both terrible at: spending an afternoon doing nothing.
Charlie had managed for the first time in months to take a short nap. 
Kate couldn’t. 
With her wand she had levitated a pillow and was spinning it in the air when another one identical to this one joined in. Her partner had woken up and without saying anything, they started a fight over their heads.
At some point they turned around in bed, trying to distract each other from their target and now they were side by side, with their feet towards the head of the bed.
Every now and then, Kate would look down at Charlie’s bare legs, but it wasn’t enough to lose the fight. Luckily, he was wearing a T-shirt. Knowing this, and taking advantage of the cotton shorts she was wearing, Charlie let his right leg fall on her own.
He saw out of the corner of his eye how she shook her head and before he could anticipate it, Kate twisted her arm so that she could cover his face with the back of her hand. Neither of them lost sight of their flying pillows.
After a while Kate tried uselessly to escape from Charlie’s leg and get the hand he had kidnapped against his chest back. Meanwhile, he decided to keep playing dirty.
Releasing her arm, and taking advantage of her concentration, he slightly pinched her waist.
Her torso jumped like a spring away from him, lifting her light green tank top, but she couldn’t go very far because of the weight of now Charlie’s two legs.
He smiled to himself. Without warning, he began to pinch every exposed skin he could reach, making Kate squirm like a fish out of water.
She was laughing, against her will, and the pillow began to twirl around the room following the erratic motion of her wand. She began to slap his hands away, but it was useless. Sticking out her tongue a bit to the side, Charlie noticed, she gained control over her pillow again and with a sharp motion of her wand it fell right onto Charlie’s face.
The tickles stopped for a second, and Charlie froze in place. The other pillow fell to the floor with a soft thud and Kate held her breath, waiting for a reaction.
Her mouth filled with air, making her cheeks round, as she tried as best as she could to control the laugh that was trying to escape.
Charlie grabbed the pillow and threw it in her general direction, effectively hitting her in the face, and she couldn’t resist puffing her laugh out. It all happened so fast; he was suddenly above her, benefiting from her distraction, and the tickles began again.
Both knew that Charlie was strong enough to stop Kate from moving, yet he let her throw herself on him and anchor him to the bed.
“Stop now if you don’t want a kick on your chin.” She wanted to sound threatening, but the cheeky grin that was plastered on his face made her snort despite herself.
“You started.” She scrunched her nose and pressed it against his, a mocking expression whose sole purpose was allowing her to touch his face. “I like hearing you laugh.” He murmured.
Charlie pulled away some locks of hair that had cascaded over her eyes and appreciated how the light coming in through the window created an almost angelic halo around her head.
“Ron hasn’t written yet?” she asked.
Charlie exhaled and dropped his head back.
“Can we for once not talk about...anything?”
Kate frowned, she was tired of tiptoeing around the theme of Voldemort, of Harry, of Sirius.
Kate had proposed bringing Harry to Romania for the summer, thinking that he would take his mind off his godfather and not have to return to his horrible Muggle family in the process. Everyone refused, including him.
She moved to get off Charlie, anticipating an argument on the subject, but he grabbed her by the waist with both hands, preventing her from leaving him.
“We agreed on one evening. One afternoon without thinking. If it’s not today, you will owe me one.”
Kate reluctantly nodded, knowing that he was right, and leaned forward to rest on his chest. She plunged her face into his neck and stayed there, trying to stop her mind while Charlie hugged her to him.
Why had Dumbledore waited so long to tell her he had the list? Why did no one want her to bring Harry with her? How was he doing? Was Corentin mad at her because she left without saying goodbye? She sent a letter saying she almost died, but he hadn’t replied…
“I can hear you, you know?” Charlie whispered. He felt the faintest of smiles against his skin and then a soft peck behind his ear. 
Sorry
“I don’t think I’ll get used to this. It’s scary listening voices that are not your own.”
“Welcome to the club.” She hummed when his hands started lazy patterns on her back, and despite beginning to feel sticky from the heat, she pressed herself further against him.
His breathing, his chest going up and down, the hand that moved to massage her hair and the soft kisses on her forehead made her start to drift to that promised sleep she hadn’t been able to get that afternoon.
“Am I crushing you?” She was genuinely worried he might have been uncomfortable, but a long and loud kiss to her cheek reassured her.
“You can crush me anytime.” He grinned against her skin and she reciprocated it with a huff so lazy that couldn’t be considered a laugh.
A few knocks on the window startled them. Seeing the owl, Kate pressed her face back into Charlie’s neck and grunted. The bird was insistent and began a series of angry taps to the glass. With a sigh and little desire, he untangled Kate’s body from him, leaving her face down on the bed.
“Katie.” Charlie closed the window after seeing the owl leave and sat down on the edge of the bed. Slowly, and with her eyes closed, she rolled over a few times until she made contact with his back. She came up behind him and on her knees wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top on his head.
“News from London?”
“No. From Durmstrang. And it came with this.” He handed her the letter and a small package with the school’s emblem on its seal. “Maybe it’s from your friend.”
She used her nail with most delicacy, trying to keep the beautiful seal intact, and smiled when she saw Corentin’s signature at the end of the paper. When she finished, she left the letter on the bed and unwrapped the package.
“He says he sent me ‘something that always comes in handy’. What could that be?”
“Hm, I don’t know… I hope hair ties” Charlie raised his forehead challenging her, and she flashed an innocent grin.
Kate took out a delicate bottle with a label from a small cloth bag. It looked empty and foggy, but as she moved it, the contents swayed with it.
Bottled ghost breath.
She threw her head back with her laugh, leaving a stunned but appreciative Charlie staring at her.
“An inside joke?” he asked with a small chuckle. She simply nodded and crawled to her bedside table, where she left her wand and mail.
Taking advantage of her back to him, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled until she was sitting between his legs.
“Hey!”
After some giggles, they sat like this, chest to back, swaying to the rhythm of non-existent music. Kate rested her head back and stared at his lips, asking for something more.
He smiled before the kiss, the kisses, and hummed in contentment.
“In spite of everything... Do you miss Durmstrang? Being a teacher?” he inquired after a while.
“It was fun, yes...”
“I’m sure you were brilliant.” Kate scrunched her nose at that and shrugged.
“I always thought you’d be the teacher... and write a thousand books about dragons, and people would line up to get into Professor Weasley’s lecture and you’d have all the girls behind you...”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” He snorted, making her laugh too.
She put her hands on his forearms and caressed her way to his hands. She placed them over his, aligning their fingers, and started swaying their arms.
“And you will open a hospital, which will have your name and a huge picture of your face. And you will discover cures for rare diseases, and everyone will want to work with mediwizard Williams, and the young trainees will drool over you.”
“Wow, now who’s talking rubbish?” Charlie pressed his face against her neck, silencing his laugh.
Kate looked away from her scar, the souvenir she had brought back from the trip to Durmstrang, and her smile broke. Charlie didn’t see it, but he could feel it so he interlocked their fingers and drew their arms to her middle, hugging her closer to him.
“Do you think we’ll have any of that?” She asked.
He rested his head on her shoulder and nodded. “I don’t doubt it. Although...” She turned her head, a frown forming between her brows. “Although I wouldn’t mind if not that way. My only request is that we’re together.”
She inhaled, letting her heart grow and make even more room for the man behind her. After turning around, she kneeled between his legs and placed her hands on either side of his face.
Charlie grabbed the back of her thighs, pulling her a little closer, and stared up at her.
After searching his eyes for a moment, and satisfied with what she found there, she drew his face near and pressed her lips firmly against his. It ended with a chaste sound that the next shorter kisses imitated.
She moved her hands to his hair and gave a light tug that ignited something between them they had lacked for half a year. And the hasty night in Grimmauld Place didn’t count, they considered, for they weren’t really safe and it only served as a reconnection more than a time to feel with abandonment.
Their lips found their way to each other again, this time allowing the start of an exploration. She hummed into his mouth when the pair of hands that balanced her legs moved to squeeze her bum.
Sensing that the advances were evolving into an inevitable outcome, Charlie ended the kiss.
“I’m hungry.”
Kate started placing small kisses along his neck, “Please don’t mean food…” Charlie chuckled then, and patted her butt cheeks for her to move.
Rolling her eyes, she stood up, murmuring complaints about wasting time cooking all the time.
“No need, there’s some pie left and I’ll make some tea, now come on.” Kate yelped when he lifted her and put her legs around him for support.
“Put me down, you’ll hurt your back.” She still wanted to devour the lips that were now smiling, and she stared at them all the way to the kitchen.
“You don’t think I can carry you? You weigh as much as a fairy.”
“Not true.” She giggled when she untangled herself, and with a small jump she sat on the counter.
She looked around at her home. From the counter, she could see the wooden table where they sat to have their meals and share their days; the two small couches that faced each other, where some tears and laughs had been spilled; the chimney, the place where he last saw her before leaving.
It was their nest, their safe place, and she couldn’t believe she was finally back.
Her father’s letters mocked her from the coffee table. He had sent money, true to his word, but it had remained untouched since Charlie received it.
Dumbledore refused to give her another mission, not that she complained, but a dark voice inside her head told her it would be preferable instead of facing unemployment again.
Now she saw that money with different eyes.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She said when he felt Charlie put a hand on her knee.
“You’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t want to use that money.”
“Then don’t. We don’t need it, anyway.” She heard him put a kettle on the stove. “Also, that woman, Rhode, paid you for the time teaching, didn’t she? You could use that for your mediwizard training.”
Kate hummed, agreeing, but not entirely convinced.
“I doubt Nougal would accept me in the hospital now. It’s been too long. And I can’t go back whining after resigning.”
She looked at him when he didn’t answer. He was left staring at the about -to- whistle kettle.
“What?” She demanded. After a moment, he talked again.
“I was just thinking that there’s a vacancy in the reserve…”
“No.” She said firmly, shaking her head.
“Just… listen to me.” She crossed her arms, but he was fast enough to grab her wrists, preventing her from shielding herself. “You could apply and work there. Yes, in a tent, don’t look at me like that. It would be less stressful than the hospital, and sure you are overqualified for it, but…”
He brought her hands to his chest and searched her eyes. “But you will have time to study for the mediwizard training, so when you actually take the tests it’ll be a piece of cake.”
Letting go of her arms, he rounded her waist and got as close as the counter allowed.
“Besides, and this is the important part, I’ll have my own sexy healer.” She smirked then, avoiding his stare and making circles on his arm with her fingers.
“The kettle…”
Charlie shook her head and went to the stove. She thought the conversation was over, but he didn’t intend to give it up.
“Imagine: we wake up, we go there together, I kiss you before parting, and then we meet for lunch. You tell me how many burn-healing paste jars you used that day and after working in the afternoon we meet again to go home together.”
“Sounds very good…” She accepted the plate with some pie that he offered and smiled, “I’ll think about it.”
“And who knows, maybe we can get a mission for the Order together this time. Bed or couch?”
“Bed!” She hopped off the counter and followed him to their bedroom with cups and plates in hand.
They ate in silence, each with their own thoughts and blocking the other from hearing them.  Still not speaking, Kate fed him her last bite of pie left on her plate and left it on the nightstand. She closed her eyes.
“Do you remember the Quidditch World Cup?”
Charlie huffed, accidentally spitting some crumbs “How could I forget…”
“You were injured, and I… cured you. Afterwards… I felt terrible…”
“For saving my life? You flatter me, love.”
Kate snorted and turned to her side. Instead of looking up at him, started caressing the hairs on his arm absentmindedly.
“No. After everything calmed down, it hit me… I could have made a mistake with your wound. I could have mispronounced the spell or make a wrong wand movement…”
He let her think her next words but seeing she was struggling he asked, “That’s why you always refused to work at the reserve? Because you’re afraid to harm me?”
“Well, it’s more complicated than that. I shouldn’t be your healer… It sounds dumb when I say it out loud. “
“That we agree on.”
“I think about it more than you could imagine. I’m always torn between ‘I shouldn’t be his healer in case something goes wrong’ and ‘if someone other than me touches you I’ll start blasting hexes’.”
He began laughing then, at first just a cackle, but after a while he had to cover his eyes with his palm. Kate moved into a sitting position and stared at him.
“You are… the most absurd woman I’ve ever met.”
“Well, thanks. You flatter me, love.” She repeated his earlier words, leaving a particular sparkle in his eyes.
“You were Madam Pomfrey’s youngest apprentice, you were the brightest healer trainee in St Mungo while mourning a loss and escaping from your controlling grandfather, you got a job in the best hospital in Bucharest, you just came from the most demanding school in Europe, having worked as a healer and as a teacher.” He counted with his fingers, his voice steady and warm.
“You are many things, love, but not incapable or incompetent. If there’s anyone I’d trust with my health or my life, that’s you.”
Kate sat speechless, digesting his words. A tear threatened to spill, but she didn’t let it.
“You are a treasure, Charlie Weasley. But I can’t be your healer.” She said as softly as she could, hoping he would understand and respect that decision.
“The offer is there.” He paused, a question behind his eyes, she felt, and Kate waited for him to speak. “But let me ask you something: what do you want to do?”
“I want to become a mediwizard.” She stated. Charlie broke into a giant smile and she reciprocated it.
“Then if you know the goal, I’m sure you’ll find the way.”
Charlie sighed dramatically then, and she smirked, anticipating some kind of remark.
“It’s hard being so wise.”
Kate chuckled. “And you?” She practically whispered.
“What about me?”
“What do you want to do?”
He closed his eyes and pretended to think about it. A silly question, she considered, knowing that he knew what he wanted to do with his life from the moment he learned what a dragon was.
“I would... I would love to be a good dragonologist. A real one.”
“You are already that.”
“No, not yet. But someday.” She pursed her lips and with a sharp nod she added, “I think you always have been.”
“Oh, and it would be fantastic to go to China some day! The sanctuaries there are wonderful...”
“Didn’t you mention a story about some secret papyrus?” The sparkle in his eyes made Kate want to shower his face in kisses.
“The Lost Scrolls of Quong Po! Can you imagine? His discoveries about dragons could change how we see the magic world…”
“An adventure for another time.” They were pensive for a while, enjoying the pleasant silence that had been created around them.
Kate considered fondly from where she sat; his arms rested at his sides, shoulders relaxed, his muscular legs were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. The light coming through the window made the copper curls of his thighs stand out. She didn’t resist the temptation and placed her hand there, feeling his muscle towards his knee, and then caressed her way back to the top of his thigh.
Charlie tilted his head and squinted at her imperceptibly, observing how she played with his soft hairs, her mind drifting away from the moment and sinking deep into herself.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured. Kate inhaled, opening her lips to tell him, but the words she wanted to express were so tangled with each other it was impossible to reorganise the sentence. She lifted one shoulder just an inch, tilting her face towards it in an adorable gesture that Charlie had seen plenty of times before. It lasted no more than a moment, and it was usually followed by a deep and heavy thought.
“I could have reacted the same way as Mer Yankelevich did. I know her pain and her desperation. If I had suspected, back then, that there was a chance, a minuscule one, to bring my brother back… how far would I have gone? We’re not so different, aren’t we? Her and I.”
She looked at him then, searching for an answer. Charlie’s brow furrowed and shifted his eyes towards her gentle hand.
“It’s interesting how everyone around us live the same experiences as we do… and yet we choose very different paths.” Leron Angelov invaded her thoughts. Then Jorgensen appeared next to him, followed by Sheyi Mawut and Mer Yankelevich. Astrid Rhode and Cassandra Steiner materialised at the ends of that line up she’d created, and finally Libor Marek. All of them, so different in shape, sizes and set of mind, were bonded to each other by one single thing: grief.
She didn’t know their backstories very well, and they didn’t know hers, but she was certain now that she could look anybody in the eye and say with conviction: I understand.
“Well, that’s what makes everybody different, isn’t it? Our choices.” Charlie’s voice brought her back to Earth. “I don’t think you would have gone crazy. You already were.” The corner of his mouth raised, and she tsked, lightly swatting his leg. She tried to hide the smirk, but he had already caught it.
I saw that.
“We’ll never know.”
“Oh, I know.” Charlie interrupted, “There’s a possibility, right? Those Deathly Hallows, they mentioned. You figure out if they’re real or not, you find them, and you use them. Would you do it?” That made her frown.
“No.”
His forehead raised, point proven, and interlocked his fingers on his lap. “You are different.”
Kate tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips as she stared at him, getting perilously lost in his brown eyes.
“To have decided that it was our free afternoon, we’ve been thinking a lot...” Charlie commented. Kate just nodded. “How about switching to other kinds of activities...?”
“Something that doesn’t require... thinking?”
“Exactly.”
“I’d love to, but now that you mentioned that you want to be a real dragonologist, it reminded me that I’ve yet to see your finished work!”
“It’s a draft.”
“Yes, but a 214- pages -draft. Come on… read it to me.”
Charlie shut his eyes closed and shook his head. “When it’s finished.”
“You’re no fun. I bet you get accepted in that new program in the Apuseni mountains you’ve been dreaming of for months. They didn’t even ask for a whole dissertation, and you did it, anyway. Remember my Christmas gift?”
Charlie smiled then, remembering the night they spent at her grandfather’s house celebrating the holidays, and the exact moment she gave him a letter… a letter from the one and only Newt Scamander, saying that Kate had sent him parts of his unfinished project, he had read them, and he had liked them!
It was still unreal.
Charlie moved then, getting on his knees, and crawled over to Kate, getting close enough to make her lay down. She placed her hands on his biceps and caressed the scar there before going up to his neck. “I’ll read it to you… later?”
“Deal.”
With a smirk forming on her face, she reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and pulled upward just an inch.
“I don’t think you will be needing this.”
She didn’t need to say it twice. In one move he threw his T-shirt across the room. “Where were we?”
“Hm... I don’t remember, we should start from the beginning.”
From that day on, things did not improve, however, their conversation remained engraved in their minds. They would not fight in vain, they would fight for each other, for their future and for the greater good they believed in.
This mission was over, maybe not in the way Kate would have preferred, but that night, with Charlie’s arms around her as he read, she decided she should close this chapter and replenish her strength for what was to come.
--
A/N: Do you want to know what happened that Christmas? Or maybe at the Quidditch World Cup?
Tag List:
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@meteora-fc​
@cazreadsstuff
@the-navistar-carol​
@am-i-space​
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sapphiewritesandstuff · 4 years ago
Text
Long Awaited
Pairing: Hanako x F!Reader, slight Nene x F!Reader Warnings: Slight spice (nothing NSFW tho) Word Count: 2,170 I wrote this 2-3 months (?) ago, but never finished. I revamped it and finished it to keep you guys entertained while I work on the Teru + Kou x Reader content <3
The sound of the bell signaling the end of your last class sounded, prompting everyone to rush out of the class as quickly as humanly possible, all the while creating a solid wall of human that is virtually impossible to pass through.
“What’s gotten into them?” You muttered, raising an eyebrow at your classmates' antics. The blonde boy besides you paused in his rambling, brows furrowing as he too noticed the flood of human bodies between them and the door.
“Oh no,” Kou groaned, slapping a hand to his face in a gesture that suggests helpless frustration. “What’s wrong?” You asked, amused at Kou’s dramatic display.
“We were late yesterday and Hanako threatened to—” he wiggled his fingers with a menacing face that looked nothing like the amber-eyed apparition, “do things to Yashiro.”
You sweatdropped, giggling at Kou’s panic. “Don’t worry, we can exorcise him together if he tries anything.” Your tone dropped at the end of your sentence, eyes darkening a tad. It was Kou’s turn to sweatdrop.
Seeing that the people by the door had lessened a considerable amount, he grabbed your arm, pulling you out the door at a brisk pace. “Come on, (Name)-san!”
---
The two of you stopped, panting as you reached the entrance of the girl’s bathroom. 
“Hanako-kun!” You declared, kicking open the door. “If you touch one hair on Nene-senpai—” The sight that greeted you left you speechless. 
Your radish friend knelt with her back towards the mirrors, a hand held to her head with a confused expression on her face. Hanako, on the other hand, sat collapsed across from her, hands clutching at his face.
“Nene-senpai?!” You exclaimed, rushing over to Nene’s side, cupping her cheeks gently. Her amber eyes widened with surprise, a slight flush visible on the apples of her cheeks. 
Kou rushed to Hanako’s side, hauling him up by his collar. “Oi, Hanako! What did you do to Senpai?!” Hanako let out an uncharacterized squeak of surprise, ruby eyes widening.
“Wha-What?” Hanako asked, eyes darting around the room. “Hanako-kun? What do you mean, I—” Before she could finish, Nene interrupted quickly, pulling you to her chest in one smooth motion.
“Hanako-kun! Are you okay? When that apparition came, I was so scared…” She sobbed, but ‘Hanako’ caught a smug glint in ‘Nene’s’ eyes. 
He sighed internally. Why did I even get myself into this?
A few minutes prior…
“Hey, Yashiro.” Nene looked up from her work to give Hanako a look of distrust. “I know that voice, Hanako-kun. Whatever you’re trying to rope me into, it’s not going to happen.” 
Hanako pouted, giving Nene his best look of utter devastation. “You haven’t even heard what I was going to say yet~”
Nene eyed him warily, taking a step back for good measures. Hanako floated a pace closer, amber eyes practically sparkling. “Pleeaase~? Just hear me out.”
The ombre haired girl sighed, lifting a hand to her face. No, Nene. Don’t fall for his tricks— “Fine. I suppose I could listen.” What are you doing? Refuse before he could go on!
“Well…” Hanako trailed off, scratching his cheek sheepishly. “You know about my, uh, fondness for (Name), right?” Nene paused for a second, mind swirling with thoughts. 
This is perfect blackmail material! Hanako-kun, you’re going to regret all those times you teased me about my legs.
She hummed smugly, giving the ghost a knowing smirk. “Oh, it was obvious. Except (Name)-chan seems to always reject you~”
Ouch, she hits hard. Hanako winced, chuckling awkwardly. “About that—” Before he could finish, a thud could be heard by the window. A moment after, the window snapped open, and smoke poured into the room. 
Hanako’s head snapped up, thoughts of you momentarily put off as he drew his knife and summoned Hakujoudai. “Who’s there?!”
No one replied, but the smoke kept creeping towards them. “Yashiro! Don’t breathe in the smoke,” he started, but trailed off when Nene’s unconscious form slumped onto the floor behind him. He cursed under his breath, kneeling down besides her. 
“Yashiro!”
---
Yes. The smoke had caused the two to switch bodies. Which, in turn, translated to the current events to unfold as the real Hanako and fake Nene hugged you closer to her. She even managed to shed a few real tears, hoping you would comfort her the way you usually comforted the real Nene.
“It’s okay,” you murmured, tugging ‘Nene’ forward to give her a hug, to which she responded with another sob. ‘Hanako’ shot a glare at ‘Nene’, which prompted Kou to ask, “Er, Hanako, are you okay?” ‘Hanako’ sighed, annoyed at having to act like the annoying, and on top of that, perverted spirit. 
“I’m fine,” he replied flatly. He scowled, debating whether he should bail out on the apparition, until a sudden idea popped up in his mind. It was now ‘Hanako’s’ turn to smirk. 
“Hey, Yashiro,” ‘Hanako’ started, strolling towards the two still embracing on the floor. “You’ve been clinging to (Name) for quite a while now~” he made sure to add the little sing-song tone Hanako often used when teasing them. 
‘Nene’ gave him a glare to which he responded with a smug smirk. Have a taste of your own medicine, Hanako-kun!
You stood up, ignoring ‘Hanako’s’ comment and giving your friend an encouraging smile. “Just ignore him, Nene-senpai.” 
‘Nene’ nodded, still half-glaring at her real body. 
Gotta step up your game, Hanako-kun. The real Nene thought, sticking out her tongue at ‘Nene’. 
‘Nene’ gave ‘Hanako’ a forced smile and casually pinned you against the wall, effectively trapping (and confusing) you. She twirled a strand of her long, cream colored hair around a finger while her other hands kept yours against the wall.
“Ne, (Name)-chan,” she started, giving you a look that can only be described as sultry. “Don’t you think my lips are a little dry today~?”
You gave her a look of confusion, eyeing the hand trapping your wrists above you. “Um, I guess? They do look a little chapped.”
The amber-eyed girl leaned closer to you, lips dangerously close to your own. “Why don’t you help me moisturize them a bit?” She purred. 
‘Hanako’ sidled up beside you, slipping a finger under your chin and bringing it towards him, ruby eyes gazing into yours under half-lidded eyes. “Now, now, Yashiro,” he purred, “Don’t be such a dirty radish~”
Internally, the real Nene cringed at her own words. I can’t believe I just said that about myself. But her determination to outdo Hanako in this contest of… whatever this was overwhelmed her sense of shame and embarrassment. 
In the real Hanako’s mind, he was currently cursing Nene, glaring at her the best he could while still maintaining the mood.
Meanwhile, Kou stared at the trio from his position by the door. He stared, not exactly sure what he was looking at. He decided to speak out, seeing the evident confusion and discomfort on your face. 
“Uh, Hanako, Senpai. I think (Name)-san needs her space.” Nene, remembering that she was currently supposed to be Hanako, spoke up, waving a hand dismissively and trying her best to make Hanako look bad when they returned to their real bodies. “Butt out, kid. Can’t you see I’m trying to tease my dear little (Name)-chan here?” 
‘Nene’ pulled you away from ‘Hanako’, wrapping her arms smugly around your form and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Stay away from (Name)-chan, you pervert!”
The real Nene irked, eye twitching at how hypocritical this was. You’re the real pervert here!
Instead, he pouted, grabbing one of your hands and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m the pervert? Says the naughty radish with the wandering h-a-n-d-s~”
Sure enough, one of ‘Nene’s’ hands had wandered up right below your chest. Blushing bright red, you struggled out of the amber-eyed girl’s arms, spinning around to face them.
“What is wrong with you today, Senpai?” You asked, arms held protectively over your chest area. ‘Nene’ shrugged, sliding her hands into her skirt pockets. “Whatever do you mean, (Name)-chan?”
You squinted at her cautiously. It was still Nene’s sweet voice and her small frame, yet somehow, she managed to pin you to a wall with seemingly no effort. Processing the information, your heart jumped and your flaming scarlet cheeks darkened a tone. 
Arms surrounded you gently and you were pulled into yet another embrace, although this time it was more warm and friendly than flirtatious. Hanako’s voice whispered by your left ear, “I’ll protect you, (Name)-chan.”
As much as Nene had wanted it to sound like she was Hanako, she also genuinely wanted to protect you from getting hurt, so her words had no qualities of playfulness to them.
You gazed back at her as she said those words, eyes glistening and lips slightly agape. “Hanako-kun…”
‘Nene’ gritted her teeth. She wanted to shout at the real Nene, to remind her, you’re supposed to be helping me. But with the starstruck look you had in your eyes, the real Hanako felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He wanted you to look at him like that, not Yashiro in his body!
‘Nene’ slowly relaxed her jaws, letting her pursed lips melt into a dark smirk. 
“If you’re so determined to brand me as the villain…” She started towards the two, honey toned eyes darkening, “Then, I’ll play the role of the bad boy~”
Shoving you onto the bathroom floor, she smirked at your widened eyes and once again pinned your wrists to the floor, successfully straddling you. 
“Ne-Nene-senpai—” Holding her finger to your lips, she shushed you. Despite that, you continued to speak, panic evident in your dilated pupils, “What are you doing?!”
‘Nene’ narrowed her eyes, reaching out to swipe her thumb across your bottom lip.
“Shhhh, (Name)-chan,” she murmured, leaning down closer to you, long hair brushing your cheeks. “If you can’t learn to be quiet, then maybe I’ll have to seal your lips for you~”
Closing the distance between the two of you, her lips brushed against yours.
Right before Kou hauled her up by the collar of her uniform. “S-Senpai. I don't know what's wrong with you today, but that’s enough.”
Having been discovered, Hanako tried to play it cool. “Kou-kun?” He used Nene’s large, watery ruby eyes to his advantage, watching as the blonde exorcist’s face turned red as he released the apparition.
Sitting up from the floor, you groaned, wiping a hand over your face. “Wow, Hanako-kun. I knew you were a pervert but I never thought you’d actually take it that far.” 
Kou’s eyes widened. “That’s Hanako?” He asked, jabbing a finger at Nene’s form. You nodded, dusting off your skirt as you stood up to stand beside the real Nene, who was currently residing in Hanako’s body. 
The blue-eyed boy once again plucked ‘Nene’ up from her position on the floor. “Wait. You’re Hanako?!” ‘Nene’ stuck out her tongue at him, rolling her amber eyes at him mockingly. “You’re stupid to not have noticed earlier, kid.” 
Kou froze, looking over at ‘Hanako’ who gave him a sheepish wave. “So… That’s really Senpai?” You once again gave a nod of confirmation, slightly sullen. The real Nene gave you a comforting pat on the back. 
“That means… you blackmailed Senpai into helping you harass (Name)-chan!”
Just as the blonde exorcist finished his declaration, a puff of smoke surrounded the two, and moments later, Kou held not Nene, but Hanako by the scruff of his black gakuran. 
Before anyone could say anything, Nene clutched at her cheeks with a sudden gasp, eyes shining with panic. “Ah, Hanako-kun!” She cried, sending a deadly glare towards the amber-eyed ghost. “You almost stole my first kiss!”
At her accusation, Kou released Hanako, who dropped to the floor with a wince, also giving the toilet ghost a disapproving glare. “Explain yourself, Hanako.”
Hanako shrugged lightly, floating up to face the three of you. “Weeelllll,” he drawled, edging closer to you.
You shot him an unimpressed look, but didn’t move away as Hanako latched on to your shoulders, hiding behind you like a nervous child. “It’s fine Kou, I don’t really mind what he did.”
Hanako froze, eyes widening. You didn’t mind his obvious attempt to kiss you? Does that mean- Could that mean-? Your stern voice brought him back to his senses. “But you do have to apologize to Nene-senpai for dragging her into this.”
Sulleningly, the black-haired ghost crept out from behind you, pouting a little. “Sorry, Yashiro~” The cream-haired girl sighed, but acknowledged the apology with a nod.
The four of you were quiet for a few seconds after that, content with the comfortable silence. 
Until Hanako’s arm curled around you, pulling you closer to him while simultaneously pulling off his hat in front of your face to prevent Kou and Nene from seeing anything.
And finally, his cold, but soft lips caressed yours, in a kiss that had been long awaited by the both of you.
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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years ago
Text
Motion Sickness chapter 74
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
(Ruby PoV)
"Spar with me," I ordered Cloud when I found him in the evening. He looked up at me in surprise from where he sat at the dining hall table. "Please. Like we used to?"
He sighed. "Can I at least finish digesting first?" He asked.
"Oh. Right." I suppose that was fair. I'd ambushed him a little.
"The doctors are insisting that I get three meals a day. Keeping my brain fed the proper nutrition," he said. "It's about repair and regrowth."
"But you're not sleeping well."
His eyes flicked away. "No. I suppose not."
"Penny said that's an important time for the brain to repair itself."
"Been talking with Penny about me?"
"She's my friend," I defended.
He raised his hands in surrender. "No judgement. Just curious."
"Yeah. I was talking to her during my mission today a little."
"I see. What was the mission?"
"Parts transfer for Amity." I slid into a seat at the table next to him. "Did you have a mission today?"
"Searching and destroying Grimm out in the tundra. Some bigass Goliaths were encroaching on Mantle. They needed somebody who can hit as hard as I can."
"Did anything interesting happen?"
"Nothing me and Limit Breaker couldn't handle."
"They usually have you deploy a landing strategy out there in the tundra."
"Limit Breaker. It's my go to for all my problem solving." He smiled. "I can glide pretty well when it's active. Not unlike you." He poked my side where he knew I was ticklish and I flinched to cover my ribs with my arms and let out a giggle.
"You should see some of the things I can do with Petal Burst now," I said with a smile.
"More of your usual bullshit, I suspect. You always did cheat."
"Hey, you and your semblance are in my ballpark now," I protested.
"My semblance doesn't make me invulnerable the way yours does. I have to work hard to give that impression."
"That why you always keep it almost charged? All the time?" I wondered.
"Maybe I'm a little paranoid," he agreed. "Sue me. I've got a lot to be paranoid about." He gave me a genuine smile that warmed my heart while I looked up at him. I reached out and stroked his hair and he leaned into my touch with a tired sigh.
I giggled up at him. Then I gave him a kiss that squashed out noses together. I really had missed him so much while he was gone. It was good to have him back. So good. I looked forward to the next chance I could get some genuine alone time with him. And Weiss if she wanted to be involved in that. I think she would.
I didn't mind sharing that kind of thing with her.
"Well alright. No sense delaying any longer." He slid off the bench and ruffled the part in my hair. I glowered at him with a smile and fixed my head dressing.
"You ready for a fight?" I asked. I slid off the bench and made to keep up with him.
"Are you? I'm going to knock you flat, Rubes."
"I'd like to see you try. We'll see if you can touch me." I used to beat him handily. Now… now I wasn't sure. He'd grown so much since even before Mistral.
I held his whole arm and skipped to the arena to keep up with his long gait.
It was late on a Monday so nobody else was using the room. Cloud strode in and spun his sword from the harness on his back in the broadsword form. I once demolished him with his weapon in that stance.
He carefully checked the tip of the weapon with his fingers. Drawing it back with his right hand and stretching out his left to brush off some Grimm ash that remained on the tip.
Crescent Rose unfolded from my back and I rolled it around hand over hand in his direction. I twisted the weapon behind my back and held it there until he looked over at me and gave me a firm nod.
He activated his semblance immediately because he was a cheater like that. And he dashed forward on a pocket of air with both hands on his weapon, holding it just before his shoulder. He had one leg bent at the knee and the other straightened out as he flew.
He swung in a low horizontal cut at me. I blocked with the blade of Crescent Rose but the attack sent uncomfortable vibrations all the way up my arm. He was truly unbelievably strong. If I was going to beat him it was going to be with my speed.
He flicked his blade out the other direction. I vanished in a blur of petals and popped back a step for a moment and leveled my weapon at him. I shot him once in the stomach and he grunted. He lowered his blade to block the next shot.
He was on me in a blue haze. He tried to hit me again but I met his strike. Then I expanded the blade of Crescent Rose backwards to make it longer. It forced him back an awkward half step.
I capitalized and slashed at him three times, spinning my blade up and around my body as I did.
He came back on me but I blew apart into three red caped swirls of red and nearly teleported behind him. I made to cut at him but he kicked me in rapid succession and brought his blade around down onto me.
I blocked high and pulled the trigger on my weapon to give us some horizontal momentum. I'd been ready for it and he hadn't and it pulled him off to the side.
I slashed at him twice with the blade and he knocked both attacks to the side fairly easily like he was still warming up.
I burst forward then back and caught him in the front then in the back. He grunted under the blows twice and though he stumbled he didn't look particularly hurt.
I twirled around in a circle and tried to catch him with the fully unfolded blade. He blocked alarmingly easily and riposted. He thrust his blade forward, then upwards in a massive flying leap.
Then he came back down on me from above with all the weight of his sword and armor and him. I burst into petals rather than take the hit. I reentered the same space I exited and kicked out with one of my legs. He blocked it on the side of his own.
He very rudely made to drive his elbow into my face. It snapped my head back. Then he brought his blade forward in slashing motion with the tip buried in the ground and slammed it into the whole of my body. His blade was taller than me, even held at an angle like it was.
He tried to open me up and combo me but I burst apart once more and flowed back together behind him. "Almost," I teased. I wrapped Crescent Rose around his waist and fired to jerk the blade backward against his body.
It caught him and made him stumble back, ripping into his golden aura. Then he whipped around and went for his Cross Slash. The first hit struck me in the stomach but I vanished out of the way of the following attacks.
He danced back a step. He was now in his limited state. He immediately flexed and started to charge the next round of his semblance and I took that as my cue to attack. His semblance forced you to approach him. To play his game. I pulled Crescent Rose over my shoulder. Then across my stomach, then around behind my back and in a twirling fashion over my head.
Cloud deftly blocked each one of my attacks and rather than riposte he stuttered back a step and went for his semblance again.
I whipped the barrel of my weapon up at him and fired at him three times in rapid succession. He dived into a hovering roll but not to the side or backwards. He dived towards me. His right hand held his weapon up behind his body easily enough and his left came up and forward to grab me. He snatched me by the neck of my cape and yanked me into the air like a brute. He made to slam me into the ground but I vanished again, I left him with only a palm full of petals.
Each time I disappeared it cost me something. I wasn't sure if that was his plan, to bleed me dry but it might just work.
He flirtatiously sniffed the petals for a moment in his hand before he blew them at me. I blushed a little but resolved to not let him distract me. Or to try not to. He was distracting enough without trying as it was.
He jumped and brought his weapon down in a massive overhead strike. I vanished rather than take that one either.
He guessed where I was going to reappear and trapped me in an attack that swung upwards and knocked me into the air. When I made to dodge in mid-air he read my dodge attempt and was waiting for me with a swing at the ready.
He hit me three times in the span of a tenth of a second. I yelped as I was flung into a pillar of cubes.
"You alright Rubes?" He called over to me. I was struggling to get up for a moment. I didn't have the most aura in the world. He had spades more than I did. That last attack did something like twenty five percent of my aura in one go of the mighty triple hit.
I picked myself up and blew my hair out of my face with a pfft upwards and to the side. I pointed the business end of my weapon at him in response and shot at him four times. The first one hit him in the chest and gave him his semblance. The next three went wide as he suddenly blurred to the side. My shots missed because of it and he started to close the gap on me incredibly quickly.
He flickered into my range and caught my whole body up in a massive upwards swing. He followed it up by juggling once. Then he let me down rather than spending the remainder of our match hammering me while I was in the air above him.
I quickly moved in on him and pulled Crescent Rose across my body and at him. Then from another side. Then I spun and tried to hammer him with the blade.
He reached out and caught the long handle of my weapon and picked me up into the air with it using one hand. I kicked him in the chest but he mostly looked bemused.
"This is serious," I protested. He wasn't taking me honestly!
"You're seriously cute." He countered. He had a wide grin on his face. "You're just not strong enough yet. We should do weights together."
I blushed at the thought of Cloud in tight workout clothes and doing exercises together. It sounded good to me.
He bent in and kissed my cheek before I could react.
I let go of my weapon and punched him in the chest. It did nothing.
He kicked me and made my aura collapse inwards with a crackle of red. He inhaled deeply, like he was enjoying the smell.
I rose with a tired sigh and he came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. I jerked back like I was going to resist but then he kissed my neck and I let out a little moan. He ran his lips over to my jawline.
"Your sweat tastes delicious," he whispered right into my ear.
I shuddered. I tried weakly to push away from him. "You're cheating."
"No. This is cheating." He poked my sides with fingers while I was tight in his grasp and without aura to spend to get away and I laughed hysterically as he tickled me. He spun me around and he kissed my lips full on. I dissolved into the kiss with a little sigh. My eyes fluttered closed.
"Cloud…" I mewled against his lips. "We should stop. We're in public." I pushed against his rock hard chest weakly.
"We don't have to be." He released me, twirling me away from him like we were dancing. "You tease."
"Me?" I asked, shocked.
"In that new outfit. Absolutely. You and Weiss both." He laughed. I turned as red as my cloak.
"You're the one looking all… all like that." I pointed up at him. With his piercings and hair done up. He gave me a brilliant smile.
"Whatcha gonna do about it, little Rose?"
"I'll show you. Seriously. You look all… so hot." He kicked a leg up as he leaned against the wall with his knee out. His foot was flat against the wall and he looked like the hottest thing I'd ever seen in a man.
"Prove it," he murmured. His voice was full of an electric current. I could remember the feel of his aura smothering mine. I shuddered again. I could feel my own heartbeat between my legs.
I would prove it, damn it. Or my name wasn't Ruby Rose.
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"I'm going to Cloud's room for sex tonight," I told Weiss as I stepped out of our shower. "Well, we'll actually be leaving campus and finding a hotel room. The beds here are too small."
Her eyes ran up and down my figure in the tight towel. She flushed at me. Whether it was about my state of undress or how directly I came out with my plans I wasn't sure.
"I-I see. And…?"
"And is that something you'd be interested in?" I asked. She was already in her nightwear.
"Maybe…"
"Clear and effective communication, Weiss. We won't hold anything against you if you're not ready."
"I want to be ready. I'm just nervous I suppose."
I walked up to her, sashaying my hips as I did. I relished the way she watched me. Oh yeah. Weiss was bi as hell. Poor girl. Let me take care of you…
"You have nothing to be nervous about. Cloud and I will take such good care of you. He's a really attentive lover. He listens. He explores." I shuddered a little as memories ran me over. I got goosebumps as I recalled being pressed firmly against the cold tile of a shower wall. The chill of the tile and heat of his body and the water had been a stark contrast.
Then that time I rode him out in Anima. The way his body flexed under mine while we held hands was etched into my mind. His hands falling to my hips to control the pace even though I whined to be in charge. It was so domineering as he thrust up into me. So good.
Weiss took in my hardening breasts. I'd need to be careful. I just got out of the shower. I didn't need to let these thoughts overwhelm me. It was hard though.
"Well I suppose. He and I did get awfully close the other night."
"You said nothing happened," I pointed out.
"Some kissing happened. Some dry-grinding happened. But I wanted you to be there for my first time and I told him so," she informed me.
"You're such a sweetheart." I kissed her lips. She groaned a little as I pushed her back. My wet hair fell on both of our faces in a tight curtain. She went for my bottom lip but if she thought I'd bottom that easily again she'd be… oh…
I whined. I really was just a bottom in her hands. At least with Cloud I could pretend I was a switch. Even if it was only because he let me. I tried to soak that in. It was only because he allowed it.
She placed her hands on my back just above my butt through the cloth of the towel and pulled me deeper into the kiss. She put her tongue in my mouth and I wrapped my lips around it, small and pink, and gave it a tiny suck.
Her breath hitched when I did it. I sucked very gently on the tip of her tongue and welcomed more of it wiggling into my mouth. The tips of both our breasts were hardening now against one another and it felt good to pull her close.
"So…" I panted when we separated. "So will you be there?" I asked.
She rapidly nodded. She breathed hard and tried to calm herself down again too. Ha. Take that. I could kiss like nobody's business. "Is Cloud a top or…?" She asked.
"Yes. But don't worry. He'll take care of you. Between the two of us we'll find a nice place for you."
"Then I'm looking forward to it."
I squealed a little. I was going to be having sex with my best friends. I walked away from Weiss and began to put on matching underwear for the night. A nice surprise for Cloud to enjoy later. Not that he would care that much but it was the principle of preparation that was the thing.
"I think I might be a switch," Weiss mumbled. "I always thought I'd be a top but when he picked me up in the air on our date night it was just too much, he made me melt."
"That's what happens when you run into a real top. Cloud at least lets me pretend a little. But he's always the one in control. I'm not sure what it is my deal."
"You melt is your problem. You can't be in control when you're all gooey," Weiss said.
"It just feels so good though." I whined. She gave me a dark and thirsty look when I did and a little of her own dominance showed. She had that same hunger Cloud had. "And if he says he feels like a dog we'll just remind him how much of a man he really is. I don't know how much it'll help but it'll feel good."
"For all we know we're about to cure him. A lot of chemical activity happens in the brain during sex."
"Science!" I exclaimed pointing at her. "Take that Salem." She laughed.
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-WG
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2018shawn · 5 years ago
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the anatomy of you and i | s.m
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Hi I was wondering if could do prompt cozy 3 and 12 with Shawn and inexperienced!y/n she’s never shared a bed with a boy before or something only if ur comfortable u don’t have to of course just thought it would be soft and sweet 🙈❤️
cozy prompt 3: “Don’t be nervous, you can come closer”
cozy prompt 12: We could... take a nap together?
a/n: so it came out like college!shawn x college!reader au bc that’s just kinda what flowed so i hope that’s ok and i also really kinda wanna do a part 2 to this because it turned out more of a fic than a blurb lmao 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 also pt 2 i’m sorry the layout of this is gross i’m on my phone and can’t figure out how to do anything ok bye
warnings: just swearing and i think that might be it
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the music from the room next to yours was something you imagined only happened in movies. it was loud and bassy and everything you didn’t want on a wednesday evening; you knew part of living in dorms would entail disturbances and inconveniences, but a party? on a wednesday night? you picked up your tote bag full of reading and text books after throwing your trusty vans jumper over your head, all ready and prepared to head down to the 24/7 library on campus. 
if you thought the music was loud in your room, you could think again, because in the hallway, not only could you hear the echos from the speakers, you could hear the shrill screams and yells from the party goers. the further away you got from your neighbouring apartment, the (thankfully) quieter it got and your short trip to the library was soon complete, the dull street lamps and soft breeze in the trees accompanying you along the way.
just as you thought, the library was empty, nothing but the sound of the door clicking shut behind you filling the room. a relieved sigh left your lips as you tugged your bag close to your body, as if the room was full of robbers who were about to mug you for your oh so precious books. opting for a more relaxed approach, seeing as it was 10.45pm, you headed to the sofa area, half thinking it would be a great place to take a nap.
instead, the anatomy of the heart was more important and your assignment was due in within a matter of days. you grabbed one handle of your bag, stretching it away from your body so you could pull out your book of choice before coming around to the front of the sofas so you could finally relax and take your time and- oh. you weren’t the only one here.
even though he was sprawled across the sofa, you could tell he was tall, really tall. the cap, embroidered with the college logo, covered his hair, but from the few stray strands, you could see wild, chocolatly curls falling loose. his eyes were shut, almost peacefully, arms crossed across his chest and very, very quietly, you could hear the soft sound of music coming from his headphones. his eyes flickered open, feeling a presence above him, and he laughed at you when you freaked out, realising you were staring at him. creepy or not, he thought you were cute; the way your finger twirled the front sections of your hair, the way your hip popped to the side as you watched over his resting frame, the way your eyes pulled into a squint as if it was the most bizzare thing to see another person in the library. the very public library.
you muttered a very embarrassed i’m sorry, before turning to walk away from the chilled area of the building. he pulled out his headphones, the sound of the 1975 becoming much more prominent, and propped himself up on his forearms. “hey, no...” he spoke, “come sit.”
scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you thought to yourself, as if you was going to let a random (but incredibly handsome) boy tell you what to do. as if you was going to actually listen and do as he said. as if- who are we kidding; your feet brought you back to the sofas, perching awkwardly on the end of the seat opposite his. he smiled, not smugly, not suggestively, not even cockily, but just a pure, genuine smile. “sorry i didn’t realise people actually like...”
“used the library?” you raised an eyebrow and he threw his head back in laughter, forearms still supporting his body which only made his t shirt strain against his chest. you recognised him from around campus, and you thought he was one of the music kids, one of the ones that did open mic nights and played guitar on the beach until 1am, but from the judgment of his toned physice, you thought maybe he played a spot of sport on the side, just for fun. not like the serious jocks who lived, breathed and worshiped football. he was definitely friends with your roommates boyfriend too, or friends with one of his friends, or- something like that, there’s a lot of people at college.
“yeah, well, no. but at this hour? why don’t you just read in bed?”
you sank back into the cushions, bringing up your legs and crossing them infront of you, looking like a little buddha wearing a vans hoodie and comfy leggings. “why don’t you just lay down in bed?”
this time, when he smiled, he smirked. “touché.”
he popped his headphone back in his ear, and the music died down again as he let his head fall back to the sofa, eyes closing shut. you wondered what had happened to bring him here, why the somewhat popular boy was cooped up in the library at this hour with clearly no intent of using the facilities. he thought the same about you. you felt awkward at first, pulling out your reading and note books, turning to the pages you had marked and setting them down around you. unbeknown to you, he cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes opening into thin slits as he watched you. he’d seen you around, even told one of your friends that he thought you were cute, but you were from different stretches of the college and really, he was nothing but the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. he wanted to tuck the fallen piece of hair behind your ear and help you lean onto him as he noticed how you struggled to manage holding two books at once and tell you not to grind your pen in between your teeth as you thought about your work and- “can i help you?”
busted.
“sorry, i just... what you reading?” he asked, even though he could quite clearly see the front cover of the book, which read a bold title of the essentials of human anatomy and physiology. and even though you held the front cover up further, showing him more of what he could already see, you confirmed it with words.
“i got an assignment on the heart, so, yeah...” you shrugged, peeling off a post it note marker and sticking it to a relevant paragraph in the book.
“can i see?” he didn’t know why he was asking, he just knew he wanted to be closer to you. he genuinely was interested in what you were learning, and although you’d only spoken a handful of words to each other, he thought the way you spoke and tone of voice was the nicest he’d ever heard. nicer than any voices he’d heard during his classes and he studies with people who sing all day. he pushed himself up, body resting into the corner of the sofa, leaving an empty space on the pad next to him. you took that as an invitiation, not entirely sure where your sudden confidence and welcoming of strangers had come from. “what are you studying?”
“human evolutionary biology and biological science.” it rolled from off your tongue like you said it every living minute as you rested down on the sofa next to him. “you?” even though you were 95% sure you already knew, you didn’t want to let on.
his answer was much simpler, and in all honesty, he felt like a fool. “music.”
“that sounds fun.” you nodded with a smile. he reached over for your book, fingers running down the edges as he looked over the words which looked like a completely different language. your body was tense, and the closer he got, the more you could feel your heart beating, which just felt highly ironic.
“these words...” he laughed, mentally kicking himself for sounding like a dumbass who literally just knew how to strum a few chords. “chor... da? tend.. in.. ee?” you giggled innocently at his attempt, but he found it in no was patronising or belittling. in fact, he thought it was cute.
“chordae tendineae.” you confirmed, looking up and directly into his eyes for the first time. you were instantly lost in the hazel pools that looks slightly lighter when certain flashes of light fell across his skin. “heart strings, to you and i.”
you went on to explain that heart strings were in fact not just an expression that people used when they felt some sort of emotion, that you could actually physically hold a heart by their - chordae tendineae - strings and they wouldn’t break because they’re so tough. you told him it would take a lot of strength and pain to actually break one. he admired how passionate you were about the subject, reeling off facts as if you could tell them in your sleep. “sorry, i get carried away.”
your cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink and you did that hair, twirly thing you did when you felt nervous. “don’t apologise, it’s nice.” he restored your faith that not all pretty boys were assholes, and maybe it was just your poor judgment in the past that had led you to ever think that. as you stared down at your book, he stared at you, wondering if he was being overly friendly or super creepy or just a total inconvenience to your evening. you thought he was neither of those, but simply a nice addition.
“so, what brings you here at...” you looked at your watch for time reference, eyes widening as you realised you been sat boring him for the past 20 minutes... about heart strings. “11.30 on a wednesday night.”
he shrugged, leaning back and falling into the cushions, hoping a more relaxed body language would help you to relax a little more too. he could tell you were just perched on the edge of the sofa for fear of touching him. “sick of my room mate fucking his girlfriend like a porn star, dont know how he’s got it in him.” your lips formed an open ‘o’ shape, not expecting the sudden change in tone or language. “told him i was going out, he said he’ll be done by 11.30.”
“and they said chivalry is dead.” you dryly commented, only to make his eyes crinkle up as he laughed. “do you have a rota for that kinda thing or is it just a come and go as you please kinda rotation?”
“well, my rota’s severely empty.” you were shocked, and thought maybe he was just saying it because he might be a total fuck boy. you could imagine he had girls falling at his feet, and you wouldn’t blame them, because those eyes. “what about you?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him and tilted your head. “no... i mean... the why are you here part... not the sex rota part...” he pulled his cap further over his forehead, wanting to bury himself in a pit of embarrassment. if you didn’t think he was a creep before, you most probably did now, he was sure of that.
to say you were, inexperienced, would be total honesty. you’d slept with one guy and one guy only, and he was someone who thought having sex on the foot of the bed was adventurous, and you vowed never to distract yourself from your studies with boys who would waste your time. it was also just a couple of hook ups, nothing serious, in fact, you’d never even shared a bed with him overnight- and you laughed at yourself for ever being the naive girl that thought he wasn’t just using you to get laid. “there’s a party next door, they usually go on until the early hours, so whether i’m here or there, i still get no sleep.” you confirmed, and he nodded, half wishing you were going to tell him your rota was also empty. not because he wanted to pounce on you and take advantage, but because the hopeless romantic inside of him thought maybe there’d be a pathway to something special. “also, it’s 11.30, so your probably safe to head back.”
he thought maybe he was an inconvenience to your evening, that you said that because you wanted him to leave you in peace so you could crack on with what you’d set out to do. shoot your shot, shawn, he thought to himself, pulling his bottom lip inbetween his teeth and you had to force your eyes away from him because you suddenly felt all warm and bothered. “you wanna come?”
“huh?” your head snapped up, book also falling from your grip and you fumbled to stop it from landing on the floor. it was an expensive book, and you weren’t about to let some cute ass boy ruin your pages.
“not like... i mean... if you want somewhere to stay. i can take the sofa.” in the 8 months you’d been at this college, not one boy had offered you an invitation back to his dorm. mainly because you hid from any form of human contact and spent most of your time cooped up in your own room with no intention of leaving.
something in you switched, when you looked back to him to see he’d taken his cap and flipped it backwards, the peak of the hat now dipping behind the back of his neck. more light hit his features, and you felt like jelly, realising just how incredibly perfect he was. even the little scar on his cheek was kissable and you don’t know where this new confident you had appeared from this evening. you leant closer, placing your book down - carefully, of course - on the sofa, letting your hands rest on his thighs and you thought you felt him tense up, but you were probably just imagining it. “only if we can stop for hot chocolate.”
“i think we have some.”
“whipped cream?”
“is that for the hot chocolate or for me?”
although he was joking, he didn’t know if what he had said had sent a wrong message, because on the walk back to his dorm, you went back to being your quiet little self, answering questions briefly and turning the questions around onto him more often than not.
you didn’t think he had sent a wrong message, but you were well and truely helpless at flirting and maybe he wasn’t even flirting with you and you was completely overthinking it, but nevertheless, it made your stomach tighten and breaths deepen. whether it was an accident or not, your hands brushed against each other’s several times on the walk back, and it was one of those cliche, awkward moments where you both look at each other and laugh awkwardly like little kids. both of you also introduced yourself, coming to the realisation that no names had been exchanged but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t already know yours because he definitely searched for you came across you on facebook. “are you sure you’re okay? i can stay with you in the library if you prefer?” he asked, although you were both nearly at his door.
“you think i’m walking all the way back over there? nuh-uh, plus, you promised hot chocolate.” he smiled and nodded, “unless... you don’t want me, and then i totally can leave you alone.”
“no i do want you.” he spoke so quick he thought he must’ve sounded so desperate. “do want you to be here, i mean, like, if you’re cool.”
you nodded, feeling somewhat... wanted? by a cute boy? who treat you like a lady and offered you his jacket even though you had your own? who literally peeled your bag from your shoulder, just so he could carry it for you? and made you walk the side of the sidewalk furthest away from the road? and took a genuine instrest in what you said?
you’d be damned if you didn’t wake up and it was all a dream. this was by far the most college-ey thing you’d ever done; meeting a random guy in a random location and deciding to risk your life by going back to his place. maybe risking your life was a bit dramatic but we’ve all seen what happens in horror movies.
when you both reached his door, he unlocked it with the key and swung it open, holding out his arm as invitation for you to go first. of course, you thought, just be even more of a gent. inside the room, it was very similar layout to yours - you walked straight into the living/kitchen area and three doors were spread across the two back walls, one of which you guessed to be the bathroom and the other two to be bedrooms. the room was dull, the television being the only thing to illuminate the area and shawn sighed with relief when he saw his roommate and his girlfriend chilled on the sofa. “well, looks like we’re safe from the porn.” he whispered to you, throwing his keys on the table next to the door.
when his roommate’s girlfriend heard shawn speaking, she shot up and peered over the back of the sofa. her eyes flickered between you and shawn, before she poked at her boyfriends arm to get his attention. “brian...” he ignored her at first, popping another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “brian. shawn has a girl here.”
“girl can hear you. and so can shawn.” shawn said, rolling his eyes as brian also shot up, smirking as the four of you all entered a staring competition.
was it such a big thing he had a girl here? because you didn’t think it would be so much of a huge deal. have you seen him? perfect college boy with incredible muscles (from what you’d seen in your imaginatation), and here you were, stunning the members of the household into silence. “hi, uh, i’m y/n?” you almost sounded like you were questioning yourself, unsure whether you were meant to say anything or not.
the girl got up from the sofa, offering you some popcorn as a peace offering before she finally spoke to you, instead of about you. “so sorry, shawn just, never brings girls here because - ow!” shawn lightly jabbed her on the arm, taking the full bag of popcorn for himself and grabbing a handful. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m winnie. and brian...” she pointed at the boy still sat on the sofa who was too busy sending brain signals and eye expressions, about the random girl in their apartment, to shawn to notice he was being introduced. “brian was actually just talking about getting a mcdonald’s so, we can go do that and you can do... your thing.”
“nothing like that,” shawn was quick to jump in and although you weren’t necessarily here for a quick fuck or a one night stand, you felt slightly disappointed.
“oh? okay, well, let us know.” she smiled and snatched her popcorn back from shawn. “i know shawn doesn’t take long.” she laughed, clearly joking about the situation which only made shawn feel like he was dealing with bringing a girl home to his parents for the first time. before thinking about it, shawn grabbed your hand and dragged you towards one of the back rooms, presumably his bedroom.
you figured it must be when the door opened and you saw three guitars perched against the wall, an unmade bed, a laptop open on the desk and a bunch of photos on the wall of him with numerous other people. “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be back in a second.” he smiled and vanished back out of the room.
taking the time to be a bit nosy, you let’s yourself study the photos on the wall. a shorter, younger girl appeared in a fair few, along with two older adults who would appear to be his family and it made you smile at the fact he wasn’t afraid to have them on display. you felt a light twinge in your heart as you looked at a picture in which a girl was kissing his cheek, even though you had no right to feel any form of jealousy. moving on, you found the notebooks on his desk that was already opened up on a page which sent your notebook organisation through the roof. the page was full of messy scribbles, more than half of the words had been crossed out aggressively and replaced with new words. it was quiet, only the sound of quiet mutters could be heard from the other side of the door and you tried you’re best to listen in to what they were saying.
dude, she’s hot
you’ve never made any other chick hot chocolate
go back in that room and get some
at least try
you tried to look like you weren’t eavesdropping when he came back into the room, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and just as you’d requested, with whipped cream. shawn thanked brian and winnie and their weird ass sex kinks for that. “thank you.” you smiled, taking it from him and wrapping your small hands around the mug to be met with warmth.
“i’m, uh, sorry about them..” he said, setting his own drink down on the bedside table.
“don’t be. they seem nice.”
“so, if you wanna go to sleep i can leave you be and like i said, i can take the couch and you can have the bed.”
“we could both have the bed?” you’d said, before even having time to think about letting the words fall from your mouth. his eyes almost looked like they’d lit up and you blew into your hot chocolate just so you had something to do instead of awkwardly staring back at him. “if you want, i mean, i can go home, i’m sure the party will die down soon.”
“stop doing that.” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his headboard as you sat cross legged at the edge of his bed, surrounded by the navy duvet.
“doing what?”
“doubting yourself.”
“well i’m good at it.” he laughed at you, reaching his hands out and taking your hot chocolate mug from your grasp.
“i wanna know more about that heart shit.” he admitted, missing how you passionately spoke about something you were so interested in.
“heart shit... you mean the thing that keeps you alive? maybe tomorrow, i’m all organed out.” he looked a little disappointed and you thought maybe he was thinking you’re suggesting you don’t wanna stay up with him. he was wrong. “although, modern family is back on netflix now and that is something i will never turn down.”
he grabbed his laptop from his desk, setting it next to you at the edge of the bed. you adjusted yourself, moving more to the middle of the mattress, therefore, slightly closer to shawn. you could smell his cologne, just like you could when you sat close to him in the library.
smiling at how you twirled your hair, bit your lip when you concentrated on what people were saying, covered your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater when you started to yawn, he thought; it was weird, how he just had this feeling that he wanted to spend countless nights with you, learning about whatever organ you needed to. and you thought too; how you felt more comfortable around him than any other person you’d met at college thus far.
still sat upright, cross legged in the middle of his bed, your back started to ache and legs started to feel numb as the second episode started. you stretched out as much as you could before looking behind you and eyeing up the empty space next to shawn. “i was wondering how long before you couldn’t sit like a buddha anymore.” he laughed, speaking over the familiar theme tune coming from the laptop. “please get comfy, you look in pain.”
“i am not in pain, i am simply just... respecting personal space.” in all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you cuddled up to a boy. the last guy used to literally leave as soon as he’d done what he needed to do, leaving you empty and alone every night. “and you might not want me, all up in your space.”
“oh my god, just stop!” he laughed, despite his demanding tone.
“stop what?!”
“doubting yourself... again!”
you huffed, uncrossing your legs and crawling up to where shawn was sat. he smirked as you got closer, settling down next to him, your back also against the headboard. your legs were outstretched, finally free from their crossed positioning, and your hands fell to your lap. another ten minutes of the episode went by when you get yourself getting tireder, head leaning to one side a little more.
shawn noticed how your body was a little more relaxed, less rigid than when you first joined him at the head of the bed. risking his move, he stretched his arm behind you, draping it over your shoulder which caused any relaxed part of your body to stiffen back up. “don’t be nervous, you can come closer.”
you looked up to him, shooting him a warm smile. it didn’t take long for your body to relax again, and it actually felt nice how natural it felt to be curled into his body. his fingers traced patterns on your shoulder as your head moved in time with his chest, a loud yawn escaping your mouth. “tired?”
“mhmm,” you answered, evidently too tired to even speak an official word.
“we could... take a nap together?” he stuttered.
“a nap? shawn it’s like 12.30am, we need a full ass sleep.” you giggled, leaning up off him to pull your sweater over your head.
“then a full ass sleep we shall have.” he sorted the set up out, turning off the laptop and placing it back on the desk. he took out a t shirt and shorts from his drawers, putting them on the edge of the bed before retrieving and additional pair of shorts. he told you he was going to change in the bathroom, and to put his clothes on, only if you wanted, before disappearing out. you took advantage of the empty room, immediately peeling off your own clothes and replacing them with his. they smelt like him, like citrus and cassis and as you climbed back into the bed, where you were previously sat, a light tap on the door sounded.
“yup,” you said, popping the last letter as he shot his head around the door, smiling when he saw you’d taken up his offer of borrowing his clothes. he says borrow, but he’d be more than happy for you to keep them, because you looked a hell of a lot better in them than he did.
he’d lost his t shirt, not that you were going to complain - and yes, he did have muscles exactly how you’d imagined him to - and the sweat shorts he’d changed into hung low from his hips and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen a sight like it. shawn wasn’t the type of boy to feel embarrassed or nervous; hell, he’d managed to shit talk his way into getting you to come back to his dorm, just in a bid to keep hold of your company because he’s never felt a feeling like it. shawn’s clothes were the first you’d ever borrowed from a guy, never having the experience of the morning after or spending a long night with someone you really like, staying up all night and talking about nothing in particular. it was also a first that you’d let yourself be conned into coming back to a guys dorm.
“you sure you don’t want me to take the sofa?” he asked as he stood at the side of his bed, unintentionally towering over you, almost making you feel as big as ladybug.
“stop doing that.” you raised your eyebrows, pushing back the duvet so there was an empty space next to you.
his face showed pure confusion, having no idea what he’d done. “doing what?”
“doubting yourself.” you mocked his voice the best you could, dropping a few pitches and moving your head theatrically.
he rolled his eyes, plopping down into the empty space next to you, and although his clothes smelt like him on your body, he could still smell the orchid and vanilla scent that covered your skin. “i don’t sound like that.”
rolling onto his side, he turned to face you, slightly closer for comfort than he would normally like to be, but with you, he didn’t think he was close enough. you were on your back, eyes tracing the outline of the shadows on the ceiling that crept through from the blinds. “you kinda do.”
“oh... as opposed to, the deoxygenated blood travels into the left ventricle-” he’d put on his best higher pitched voice.
“right atrium.”
“-and opens those little valvey things-”
“just valves is fine.” you rolled onto your side to face him, but he was too busy mocking you to notice.
“-which make your heart do the ba-dum thing that i’ve been able to feel in my fucking throat all night-”
“you mean the heartbeat?”
“-all because you’ve been pulling on my chordane tendineae because you’re just too fucking amazing.” you swolled hard, and suddenly it was you who could feel the ba-dum thing in your throat. he was just looking at you, now aware you were face to face with him, only inches apart in his queen sized bed. he had just tried to twist your words in a confession of admiration, but couldn’t help but think he’d just sounded dumb instead. “no smart ass comment?”
normally you’d be offended at someone calling your comments smart ass, because they were in fact just the truth, but you knew shawn was messing, although, maybe not about the heartbeat part. you’d found yourself being drawn in, faces getting closer together with each breath, so much so you almost didn’t notice how his hand was stroking over the skin of your hip. he was searching your face for an invitation, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but at the same time, didn’t want to scare you off. the air was thick, and you were sure you could hear your heartbeat, but shawn was convinced it was his. his breath fanned against your lips, creating a cool minty sensation, and as your eyashes fluttered, your eyes looked straight into his. “kiss me.”
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shawn taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @fallinfortom
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eleven-times-lively · 5 years ago
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I’ve Always Been There
Hi, if you’re talking requests I would like to request a Harry x reader where he’s crushing super hard on a very popular girl above his year and his friends tease him about it. Thank you!
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I love!! I wasn’t sure if you wanted the reader to be one of his friends or the popular girl, so I interpreted/changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind. Let me know!
Summary: Harry was too busy pining after an older student to notice that you’d always been there Word Count: 1383 Note: I couldn’t seem to write this week...oops. Enjoy!💕
“Oi! Potter! Over here, mate!” Ron called from within the pitched Weasley tent. It was the quidditch world cup, and the entire Weasley family, plus a few friends, were in attendance. “What were you looking at?”
“Oh I bet it was Matilda…” Fred exclaimed, sauntering by with a stack of team apparel.
“Matilda?” you questioned, stopping Fred in his tracks.
“Oh, just this sixth year who Harry’s been smitten with.” Fred’s comment earned a spread of low ‘ooohhs’ from the group. Trying to mask your disappointment, you joined in.
“Think she’s a little old for you, Har,” you joked as you followed Fred outside.
***
School had started a few weeks ago, and Harry had walked into the dining hall for breakfast, a bit more flustered than normal. Harry was a chaotic being - having gotten used to waking up just a minute too late and having to rush himself into robes and to breakfast - thus he always entered the hall in a hurricane of energy. However today he was slower in his way. Still energetic, yes, but slow and concentrated, as if asked a life-changing question at the doors. His cheeks donned a light blush and his mouth crept up in the corners. 
“What’s up with you?” you questioned, pointing your melon-adorned fork at the boy.
“I-”, but before he had a chance to answer Hermione cut in.
“By the looks of him he probably saw Miss Matilda Fey in the hallway.” 
“Ooohh Harry! A little morning treat before breakfast!” Ron exclaimed through his mouth of toast and pumpkin juice.
“Think about how you sound, Weasley…” you chided before turning back to Harry, “glad to see something’s got you all fired up. Haven’t seen you this cheeky since the topless painting in the staircases blew you a kiss.” The table cracked up laughing while Harry flushed a deep, embarrassed red, giving you a soft kick on the leg.
“So tell us about her, Harry” Hermione perked, cocking an eyebrow at the boy. She’d made a mistake in asking.
“Oh! So she’s a sixth year Ravenclaw. Pureblood and popular. She was the one that hexed the Slytherin common room door last year so they all got zapped when they touched the door handle. Chaser in quidditch, and wow is she good at it. Her favorite flowers are petunias, I always see her out in the back fields near the owlery where the wildflowers grow. She has a pet tabby cat and, wow you’ll never believe this, she can cast a full patronus! A horse! How amazing is that! Oh! And her mom is an animagus! I mean, not to sound rash, but I think we may be soulmates.” Harry was out of breath from speaking so fast. He just stopped, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide staring at the three of you. “Well? What do you think? Isn’t she lovely?”
“Very… interesting.” Hermione quickly added as to not upset Harry as you all got up from the breakfast table.
***
Later at quidditch practice it was Gryffindor’s turn to host a practice match against Ravenclaw. The practice matches were a rarity, as the students could never quite control themselves, forgetting it’s only practice. It was your first year as a chaser for the team, and you were very good at it, but you’d never played a match before. Not only that, but Matilda would be your direct opposition. She was all smiles and giggles with her teammates, exchanging high-fives and long practiced and kept secret handshakes as the brooms were raised. You only stared, as if into her soul to find the very bit that Harry found magnetic. You were so engrossed that you hadn’t heard Harry call over your shoulder.
“Y/n!!”
“Hmm? Oh! Harry! Good luck, mate!” You flashed a warm smile at the boy.
“You too, dear. First match! You’ll kill it!”
You weren’t sure if it was the nickname or the very comment that made you want to melt more.
“Hi Matilda!” Harry called across the pitch at the girl.
“Harry there is no way she could have--” you started when she responded.
“Harry! Good luck, mate… but not too much!” She waved at the boy before twirling a strand of her short, perfectly curled platinum hair. She let out an airy giggle before returning to the confused glances from teammates.
“Wait… you actually know her?”
“Oh… a bit I suppose. Isn’t my first year in quidditch.”
You gave a knowing, albeit heavy, nod as the balls were released into the air and the whistle was blown. Ignoring the quaffle, you went straight for Matilda. Whizzing past at near top speed, you gave her a good nudge with her elbow, and doubled back with a swift push of your foot on the other side.
“Y/n!” she exclaimed, rather angrily, “the bloody ball isn’t even near us! Watch out!”
You immediately regretted your actions, but wouldn’t give up so easily.  If you couldn’t take her out, you could at least help to win the game.
You played the hardest you ever had. Swerving and dashing, scoring six goals in total before Harry caught the snitch. The whistle was blown, but the brooms weren’t lowered. An older Gryffindor was still set on launching the bludger one last time, seeking revenge on the Ravenclaw who had stolen a goal from you earlier in the game. However, his plan didn’t quite work out. Rather than hitting the Ravenclaw keeper, the bludger hit Matilda square in the stomach, and she came tumbling down towards the pitch floor. 
“Matilda!” Harry and the entire Ravenclaw team screamed at once, all of the brooms lowering. 
The Ravenclaw team surrounded Matilda, and Harry tried to join the group.
“Harry! Wait up!” you hollered, running after him.
“Y/n? Is it important? Matilda is hurt!”
“No I know, and her team is there and Pomfrey just arrived, she’ll be okay. And our beater is now suspended. Can we talk?”
“Yeah, but later…” he trailed off, still trying to head for Matilda. 
“Harry!” you exclaimed a bit too loudly as you grabbed his arm a bit too hard.
“Y/n!” he exclaimed right back in the same manner, “What’s gotten into you? I like her, and I need to be there right now if I want to show her I care!”
“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, she bloody knows!”
“Pardon?”
“She’s a gorgeous, brilliant, popular sixth year. It’s not going to happen!”
The pitch had cleared out except for the two of you, and Harry looked genuinely hurt.
“How could you say that?”
“Because I know what it looks like when someone likes you. To have reciprocated feelings, or at least to have someone liking you for once. It’s not hard to spot from an outside view, and I don’t see it.” You both took a seat in the grass.
“And how do you suppose you know all this?” “Cause I’m here right now watching it. And I’ve always been there, Harry. Through every high and low moment these past four years, we’ve been together. It hurts, knowing I’m here unconditionally, then you go off and pour your heart into an older girl who wouldn’t even know you if it weren’t for quidditch.”
“Y/n…”
“No, I know it’s crazy, I do, I’m absolutely looney, but I had to say that before it was improper… more than it already is.”
“Bloody hell, y/n I like you too.”
“Sorry, pardon?”
“On and off since the moment I laid eyes on you in the great hall during sorting. I remember feeling so excited when you were sorted Gryffindor. Those same feelings when you aced exams, cast your first patronus, and finally made the team. I’ve always been there for you, even if you didn’t notice. I gave up the end of last year cause I figured it was never going to happen.”
“Harry…”
“Y/n…” 
There was nothing left to do but embrace, everything unspoken suddenly understood. 
***
The next morning, you were able to walk into the dining hall hand-in-hand.
“In Merlin’s name what is this?” Ron questioned, not even hiding his surprise.
“Something that’s been waiting to happen for a long time.” Hermione added, a warm smile spreading between the group as you and Harry sat down - this time united as a couple.
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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 5 years ago
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Pursue - Jim Hopper x Reader
Summary: How far can you push Hopper before he loses control?
Characters: Jim Hopper x female reader
Words: 5,310
Warnings: smut, language/dirty talk, light bondage, throat fucking, praise kink, implied age gap, I think that’s it? This is dirty smut so if that’s not your thing, don’t read. 
Author’s Note: This was written for sherrybaby14′s Fall Into You writing challenge. My prompt was to use the line “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”
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Pursue
Grinning with amusement, you twirled the phone cord around your finger and tried to sound innocent, though you both knew it was all an act. The mission was to drive Chief Jim Hopper mad with lust, and so far, your plan was working brilliantly.
 You had been teasing him all day, starting in the morning when he had received a call right as he got to the office. You could practically feel his surprise at your bold words, detailing to him how you were still laying naked in bed and wrapped up in sheets that smelled like him, wishing he was there to satisfy the lust you were currently feeling. He had growled out that you were going to regret teasing him when he got off work, and when you baited him further by saying that maybe you should just pull out your vibrator and pretend it was him, he gave a strangled groan and hung up. You had called about an hour later, and when Flo answered and said Hopper was busy, you asked her to relay the vague message of, “I took care of the situation myself.”
 It was now his lunch break, and you had, of course, taken advantage of the opportunity to call again, knowing that he couldn’t resist his curiosity about what else you’d have to say. You mentioned buying some new lingerie, a black lace teddy that clung to your curves like a second skin.
 “The neckline goes down a bit too low, so that I’m almost popping out. And I had no idea that the back would be a thong, but oh well, too late to return it now,” you said with an exaggerated sigh, listening intently for his response.
 Satisfaction darted through you at the unmistakable sound of increased breathing on the other end; you could clearly envision him in his office chair, leaning forward over his desk with a death grip on the receiver. The thought of him sitting there with a hard-on and trying to imagine what you looked like only served to ramp up your own desire, thighs squeezing together where you lounged on the couch in the aforementioned lingerie.
 “Don’t you want to know why it’s too late to return it?” you pouted, biting your lip to stifle a giggle.
 “Why?” His voice was raspy with desire, making it sound so low and commanding that you shivered.
 Giving a slow grin, you whispered, “Because I’ve been wearing it all morning, so it’s soaked from me thinking about you.”
 Dead silence. He must be holding his breath, body taut and unmoving. You knew because you were doing the same thing. Then, the smallest click...and the following silence lasted only a few seconds before the beep of a disconnected line sounded.
 He hung up?!
 Annoyed at the thought of him ending the conversation right as it was getting good, you redialed the station. Poor Flo was probably getting sick of transferring your calls to Hopper’s office, but she did so anyways. After the dozenth ring, it was obvious he had either left or was purposely ignoring you. Hanging up the phone, you puffed out an irritated breath that the game was over...for now.
 Getting up from the couch, you decided to make a sandwich for lunch. You grabbed your purple house robe and put it on over the black teddy before going to the kitchen to hunt down some lunch meat and bread. You really should go to the store later, seeing as how Hopper’s frequent visits had dwindled the fridge down to practically nothing. You and the Chief had officially started dating about six months ago, but it was only the past month or so that he seemed to spend more nights here than at his cabin.
 Getting the tall, brooding man’s attention hadn’t been an easy feat. It had taken weeks of you finding various excuses to stop by the station for him to finally get the hint. He later admitted that his cop buddies had all but begged him to ask you out, and that he genuinely hadn’t thought you’d be interested, the silly man. Usually you preferred playing a little harder to get, but from the moment you moved into Hawkins and met Chief Jim Hopper, you wanted him. And if you had to act a little too obviously interested to get his attention, then so be it. Otherwise he’d have never gotten a clue, since he’d had some warped idea that you were too young and pretty for him.
 But once you had gone on that first date, the rest was history. It had been hot and heavy from the start, especially after he’d asked what you were doing at Enzo’s with him and not someone younger and more carefree, someone who had their life together. You had smiled, grabbed his hand where it laid on the table, and told him that none of the youthful boys around town made you wet with just one glance, and none of them made you feel both recklessly turned on and completely safe at the same time. But he did.
 He had practically eye-fucked you for the rest of dinner, and you barely made it back to your place in one piece, Hopper unable to keep both hands on the wheel during the drive there. He had fucked you up against the wall right inside the front door, and it would be a miracle if the neighbors hadn’t heard your screams of ecstasy.
The chemistry between the two of you was off the charts, and it was by far the best sex you’d ever had. Just the thought of the things Hopper could do, of the reactions he was able to elicit from your body, had a shiver going down your spine as you cut the sandwich in half and took a bite.
 You had just finished chewing and swallowing when there came the unmistakable sound of tires screeching recklessly into the driveway, followed shortly by the loud slam of a car door. Putting down the sandwich, you walked from the kitchen into the living room. Right as you were starting to feel a bit alarmed, someone came up the front steps and crossed the porch, and your worry instantly turned into excitement. Those heavy, booted steps could only belong to one man...
 Standing there with bated breath, you heard the key you had recently given him turn in the lock, anticipation making your thighs clench. The door swung open and there he was, filling the entrance with his broad shoulders, gaze immediately zeroing in on where you stood in the middle of the living room. He walked inside, the door slamming slightly as he forcibly closed it with his boot. Dressed in his snug Chief’s uniform, your mouth watered at the sight of all that sexually frustrated man focused in your direction. His eyes trailed down over your form, nostrils flaring as he realized that all that stood between him and the lingerie you had teased him about was a thin layer of purple terry cloth.
 He took a step forward, but then halted when you danced backwards two steps. Brows furrowing, he took another step to test the waters, and sure enough, you backed up again. A teasing smile and cocked eyebrow signaled your enjoyment of the game, though Hopper looked far from amused. He suddenly came at you with a growl, but before he could get within arm’s reach, you turned with a squeal and fled.
 Adrenaline, fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement, pumped through your veins as bare feet darted from the living room and across cool kitchen tiles. The roles were suddenly switched from earlier, and the pursuer was now the prey.
 Skidding around the counter island in the kitchen, you grabbed the edge of the surface to help halt your forward movement, breath accelerated as you saw Hopper storm into the room only a second later. He eyed the counter with disdain then looked up and locked eyes with you, the intensity in his stare causing hair to stand up on the back of your neck.
 “You’re only digging yourself a deeper grave, sweetheart,” came the gruff warning.
 “That so?” you taunted back. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me then...if you think you’re quick enough, old man.”
 You saw the flash of anger in his eyes at your jab a split second before he charged around the counter on your right. Almost falling for it, you started to run to the left before realizing at the last second that he had only feinted going one way before abruptly turning around and charging the opposite. His intent was to cut you off before you could make it out of the kitchen, but you ruined the plan by skidding to a stop on the tiles. He was almost within arm’s reach when you flew back the other way, careening around the same side of the counter you had entered from and making a break across the kitchen back towards the living room.
 Heart in your throat, you sprinted through the lower level of the house, the bottom of the robe flapping out behind you like a beacon. There was a dart of euphoric satisfaction that you had thwarted him, as you beelined straight for the staircase with the goal of making it to the bedroom and closing the door. If you could get it locked in time, then it would be beyond entertaining to see what his next move would be. Images of him begging you to open the door and let him in flashed through your mind, making you smirk with sadistic glee. However, you should’ve known he wouldn’t let you get that far. Despite his size, Hopper was swifter and lighter on his feet than most people would suspect. In fact, you’d later look back and wonder if he had purposely let you think you were winning, and had actually been toying with you the entire time before waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and capture his prey.
 You hadn’t even heard him gaining on you, so it came as a surprise when you only made it halfway up the staircase before strong fingers wrapped around your ankle, causing you to fall to your knees on the carpeted steps with a cry. Refusing to admit defeat, you continued to try and move forward, leg kicking against his grip, but he was unrelenting. You felt him come up the steps behind you, the presence of his large body hovering expectantly, waiting for you to turn over and accept your fate.
 “You should know better than to run from the police, baby,” he drawled in a raspy, lust-ridden voice.
 A shudder of arousal went through you at the words, and you slowly turned over onto your back, his hand still holding your ankle captive. He was looming over you, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the world. Looking up at his face, you saw that his pupils were blown wide with lust. The sight caused a smirk to twitch at the edges of your lips, satisfied to know that you weren’t the only one physically affected by all of this.
 “You think this is funny?” he growled menacingly, leaning down until his face was inches from your own. “Did you enjoy making me chase after you? Perhaps I should show you what happens to bad little girls who play games with the chief.”
 With that, his grip left your ankle as he all but tore into the tie of your robe, flinging it open and off your body. A groan of masculine arousal accompanied his hand diving between your legs, and you gave a soft cry at the feel of his fingers pressing into the soaked crotch of the teddy.
 “You weren’t lying about not being able to return this, baby. Even if the wetness wasn’t enough evidence, they’d be able to smell your cunt on it from a mile away.”
 Gasping at his filthy words, you were so focused on arching up into his fingers for more friction that you barely registered the sound of clinking metal. The realization of what he was doing hit a second too late, as Hopper lifted his hand from your crotch, grabbed both your wrists, and had the handcuffs clicked into place in the span of mere seconds. Even though it was futile, you still pulled at the cuffs, which only served to press the unrelenting metal into your flesh. You gave a huff of frustration that instantly turned into a squeal of surprise when he picked you up off the steps and threw you over his shoulder. Desire swirled in you at how his strength made you feel light as a feather, while the world also swirled as your head was suddenly upside down and staring at an absolutely delectable ass in tight, beige pants.
 Your own ass must’ve also been a distraction, as a warm hand came down with a smack on your left buttock that was bared by the thong of the teddy. He gave a second smack to the other cheek, causing you to groan and clench your fingers into the back of his shirt as he started up the rest of the steps and down the hall towards the bedroom.
 Once inside the room, he tossed you down onto the bed, back bouncing on the mattress from the force. Immediately trying to roll over and away, unwilling to admit defeat, your escape plan was cut short before it even began. His unyielding body came down over your own, thick thighs straddling your waist as he gathered your cuffed wrists in one hand and pinned them to the mattress above your head.
 Leaning down, he took your earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “Ah ah, baby. None of that. I caught you fair and square, and now you’re mine.”
 Shivering at both the feel of his mouth and the words coming out of it, your body squirmed underneath him with anticipation, declaring its surrender without your brain’s permission. Moving down to your neck, he sucked the flesh roughly, bringing blood to the surface so that you’d carry the mark of his possession around for days to come.
 The hand not holding your wrists captive ran down over your side, mapping the curves of your waist and thigh, his calloused fingers causing goosebumps to erupt on your flesh. He continued to skim past the places that wanted his touch the most, tracing fingertips lightly along the sides of your breasts in the black lace and along your lower stomach, before changing direction up and away from the part of you that wept for him. He caressed you slowly until every nerve ending was straining for him to do more, to give your body what it was craving. In response to your panting whimpers, he brought his mouth up to hover mere centimeters from your own, teasing you with his warm breaths.
 “What wrong, baby? I thought you enjoyed playing games?”
 Damn him to hell. You had no clue how he still had any control left, but apparently he was keeping a tight rein on his desire until he paid you back in full for your earlier teasing. You had meant to drive him mad with lust and be in control of the situation, but had apparently underestimated Hopper’s revenge tactics, which left you as the one panting and begging for more.
 Giving a groan of frustration when both large hands lifted from your body, you felt cold and bereft. Frustration turned to excitement at the sight of his fingers undoing the front of his pants, and you subconsciously licked your lips at the sight. Giving a deep chuckle at the motion, Hopper rasped, “Yea, you got the right idea, baby.”
 When the pants were unbuttoned and unzipped, he reached inside and pulled out his thick cock, the tip already weeping with desire. Unable to help the impulse, you lowered your hands towards it like a moth to flame, but they were grabbed roughly before you could even make contact. Shoving them back into the mattress above your head as he once more covered your body with his own, he leaned down and growled, “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”
 A raspy moan and frantic nod was your response, the teddy becoming even more soaked at his words. A slow, arrogant smirk curled his lips; Hopper knew how much you got off on being praised, and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage.
 “Then do as I say and keep your hands just like that, sweetheart. If you don’t move them while I fuck your pretty little mouth, then maybe I’ll let you come.”
 Another panting nod was all you could manage at the moment, your gaze fixated on the cock bobbing closer to you as he moved up the bed until he was straddling your shoulders. Grabbing his dick with one large hand, he gave a few slow, rolling strokes before placing the tip against your lips.
 “Open up, baby. Time to show the chief what a good little cock sucker you are.”
 You obeyed instantly, lips parting on a moan as Hopper fed you his cock. He started off slow and easy, barely moving his hips, which automatically motivated you to take control. Moving your head back and forth, you took him in with no added assistance. Grunts of pleasure fell from above as your tongue swirled around his tip and mouth worked his length. Looking upwards, you felt another gush of wetness between your legs at the sight of Hopper staring back down at you, heavy-lidded gaze focused on the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips.
Suddenly, he went from passive recipient to once more being in charge. His hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled forward while thrusting his hips. The movement forced his cock down your throat until his balls hit your chin and dark pubic hair tickled your nose, a strangled, fuck coming from the man above you. Eyes instantly watering as you gave a slight gag, you looked up at Hopper pleadingly, even though you knew the sadistic part of him loved watching you struggle to take him.
 It was all you could do to keep your wrists in place and not try to buck him off, but then his other hand came down and gently cupped your face as he rumbled, “What a good girl. You look so fucking sexy while choking on my dick, baby. I can’t decide if I want to come down your throat or wait until I get in that beautiful pussy.”
 His words caused your throat to instantly relax and loosen in submission, while your pussy clenched tightly with jealousy that it wasn’t the one being currently filled. As if he knew your body’s new dilemma, he reached back and down between your legs, which instantly spread to make room for his hand. Shoving the soaked fabric to the side, he ran a thick finger down your slit, causing your hips to buck and throat to moan around his cock, the vibrations wringing a strangled snarl from his lips. Two fingers easily slid inside your dripping cunt, his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of your arousal gushing around his digits. You felt dizzy, both with desire and the lack of oxygen, as you laid there with his dick down your throat, clenching on his fingers. Both your mouth and pussy provided him with a warm, wet welcome and begged for more, the two of you groaning simultaneously at the sensations.
 Disappointment and oxygen hit your lungs when he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva hanging precariously between the tip of his cock and your lower lip before it broke and fell. Giving a cough and taking a deep gasp of air, you felt his fingers also leave your body as he reached into the front pocket of his undone pants and pulled out a set of keys. It was obvious by his pulsing, reddened cock that he had been close to coming but decided to wait until he got between your thighs, a decision which made your cunt pulse in eager anticipation.
 Jingling the keys teasingly between his fingers, he said, “You still going to be a good girl if I take these off?”
 Nodding frantically, you arched your body underneath him, panting, “Yes! Please, Jim!”
 Satisfied with your submissive response, he leaned up over your head, and you felt the cuffs fall away as he unlocked them. He set both cuffs and keys on the bedside table before taking a moment to bring your wrists down in front of his face, rubbing them gently while inspecting to make sure there hadn’t been any damage done. The gesture sent a flutter through your chest; even during intense moments such as this, Hopper’s protectiveness still reared its head, reinforcing that you were always safe with him.
 Once satisfied with his inspection, he moved off the bed before turning to fix desire-blazed eyes on you, thighs spread and chest panting as you awaited his next move. Without hesitation, he reached down and shoved the teddy’s straps off your shoulders, roughly peeling it down your body as if he were a kid tearing into a long-awaited present on Christmas morning. The fabric scraped down over your rock-hard nipples, causing a faint shiver, then was pulled off your hips and legs so that the cool air of the room hit your desire-glazed cunt.
 “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
 Smiling at his praise, you arched your back a little and cupped both hands under your breasts, offering yourself up to him.
 The animalistic sound that came from his throat sent chills down your spine, and he wasted no time in tearing off his uniform. You watched greedily as more and more skin was revealed, biting your bottom lip to muffle the moan of arousal when he stood naked and proud. You got a fine view of his muscled ass when he walked across the room to his chest of drawers, yanking the top one open and pulling out a condom. He came back but stopped at the foot of the bed, his sharp gaze searing a path down the length of your curves before lifting and locking onto your own.
 “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for the chief, baby,” he commanded in his best cop voice while tearing open the condom and rolling it down his throbbing cock.
 Body begging to be filled, you immediately obeyed, flipping onto all fours on the mattress, ass up and legs widely parted in presentation. Unable to resist a little teasing, you slowly rocked your hips back and forth while looking over your shoulder at him with a knowing grin. A jolt of excitement went through you at the expletive hissed from a clenched jaw, his predatory gaze raking downward, greedily taking in the way you were spread out on the bed and waiting for him. He had frozen for a moment with your movement, but quickly recovered and moved forward onto the bed at record speed, his body radiating heat and hunger as it came up behind your own.
 His rough hands trailed down over your sides while his cock bumped against your inner thighs, causing a shudder to ripple along your flesh. Arching back into him, you let out a whine of impatience, tired of the games and just wanting him to fuck you.
 Knowing you were getting desperate, he leaned down so his front fit to your back with mouth at your nape, as he whispered, “You ready for my cock, sweetheart?”
 His words stole your breath, so that you could only nod frantically before pulling enough oxygen to breath out a shaky, “Yes.”
 Unable to deny both of you any longer, he reached down with one hand to line his dick up at your entrance, and slowly pushed inside. Mewling with pleasure, you tried to widen your thighs even more on the mattress and gripped the bedspread as your walls stretched around his thick length. Fuck, but he was big, and your body never failed to remind you of that. No matter how many times the two of you had sex, that slight burn of possession always made itself known during that first thrust.
 Once he was balls deep, he went still for a few long moments, both of you savoring the feel of him deep inside. Then he planted his left hand down on top of your own on the mattress, the gesture dominant and possessive, yet also reassuring, while his other hand snaked around the front of your waist and dove between your open thighs. The tips of his fingers unerringly found your swollen clit, zeroing in with tight, fast circles in the rhythm needed to make you moan and instinctively push back into him. If there was one thing Hopper had learned over the past months of dating, it was exactly how to touch you in a way guaranteed to make come.
 And if there was one thing you had learned about Hopper, it was that dirty talk affected him just as much as it did you.
 “You can go again later, right?” you tried to sound seductive and saucy, but it came out as more of a breathless whimper.
 “Was that an insult, little girl? You think I can’t keep up with you?” he growled in your ear, fingers speeding up into even faster and tighter circles on your bundle of nerves.
 Shaking your head, you gasped, “I just really...w-want…I want to...”
 “Want to what?”
 Almost convulsing at the carnal, deep command in his voice, you panted loudly for a few moments before answering. “I want to finish what I started...suck you off. I want to feel you come in my mouth.” The words were puffed out in a rush at the end, head dropping forward from the overwhelming pleasure of his body over and in yours.
 “Fuck,” was the only verbal response, followed by the hand on top of yours lifting to grip tightly onto your hip. His thrusts increased until you had to clench the bedspread for dear life to keep from being forced face-first into the headboard.
 Even though it was usually him using filthy words to take control, to make you beg and come, the idea of turning the tables caused more wetness to run down your thighs. He might be dominating your body right now, but you had the key to dominating his mind.
 “Do you want that? Me taking your cock in my mouth, deep down my throat.”
 “Sweetheart…” he groaned warningly, his hips stuttering out of rhythm for a moment as he fought off his orgasm. The fingers at your hip dug in painfully as he jackhammered into you, while his other hand kept its punishing rhythm on your clit. Toes curling, you could feel him start to lose his iron-tight control, and fuck if that didn’t amp your own arousal up to new heights.
 “I want it...I want to suck your dick and...swallow every drop of your cum,” you gasped between heaving breaths.
 “Jesus fuck!” he cried, and a dart of triumph went through you as he upped his movements in a way that was pure carnal instinct, his control flying out the window and body taking over. Cock pounding so hard that his balls slapped your clit with each thrust, the wet sounds coming from your bodies was so obscenely erotic that you could only moan in response and hold on. The coil drew tighter until you were unable to speak even if you wanted to, knuckles turning white and every muscle in your body tensed as you hurtled towards the peak.
 With an animalistic groan, Hopper went over the edge, his large body shaking behind yours as the throes of ecstasy hit him. Not wanting to leave you behind, he kept thrusting, trying to drag you down with him. When his hand lifted away for a split second, only to then come down hard in a slap directed perfectly on your throbbing clit, you exploded. Sparks of pleasure radiated through your entire body, making your back arch and cunt pulse as you wordlessly cried out Hopper’s name like a litany.
 It took a while to come down from the high, both your bodies shuddering against one another with aftershocks. Giving a whimper when his now-limp cock left your body, you collapsed onto your side at the same time he also rolled onto the bed. Snuggling up behind you, his body spooned along your own so you could still feel his chest rapidly rising and falling, his breaths loudly puffed out against the back of your neck and causing goosebumps on your sweat-dampened flesh.
 You laid there in silence for a couple minutes, just soaking in the moment and allowing your heart rates to slow down to a more normal rhythm. Rolling over to face Hopper, you ran soothing fingers over his chest and looked up at him, happy to see his usual brooding expression had relaxed and the usual lines of tension he carried in his face and shoulders had eased.
 “So?” you asked expectantly, trying not to grin when his eyebrows raised in question.
 “So, what?” he grumbled, voice already taking on a sleepy quality that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.
 “So...was I a good girl? Or do I need to try again?”
 His eyes, which had been drifting shut, shot back open and locked onto yours. He studied you intently, cop face firmly in place. “Ma’am, are you purposely trying to kill me? Because murdering a police officer is a serious offense.”
 Giggling with delight, which made his own lips curl upwards at the edges, you leaned in and whispered against his lips, “Even more serious than running from said police officer?”
 Closing the distance so that his mouth covered your own, he kissed you breathless before pulling back and murmuring, “They’re both serious, and you’ll be punished accordingly once I get feeling back in my legs.”
 Smiling, you traced fingers down along the side of his stubbled cheek and across his strong jaw. “I think it was only fair, considering.”
 “Hmm?” was the rumbled response, his eyes once again closed.
 “I just figured that after all the pursuing I did in the beginning to get your attention, it was about time you were the one who had to chase me.”
 Groaning in exasperation, he wrapped large arms around your waist and pulled you in close, body pressed full-length against his own. “You and the boys at the station are never going to move on and let me live that down, are you?” This was murmured in a low tone that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer, and you internally preened that he was so worn out.
 Since it was obvious he didn’t plan on returning to work anytime soon, you laid your head on the pillow next to his with a contented sigh. A quick nap couldn’t hurt before you roused him for round two and made good on your dirty words from earlier. You could hardly wait to try and make him lose control again, and maybe you could even sneak those handcuffs back in somehow.
 A soft snore broke the silence, Hopper unable to stay conscious long enough to finish the teasing conversation. However, knowing he was asleep made you bold enough to answer his question in a more honest way, the words a whispered confession of commitment.  
 “If it means more afternoons like this, then no, I won’t move on...ever.”
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watchmegetobsessed · 5 years ago
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Enchanted - Adam Sackler (pt. 4)
and the story goes on!
series summary: You are casted as Giselle in the Broadway adaptation of Enchanted with Adam as Robert.
word count: 3.8k
Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3
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Chapter title: Conflicted
Time is your biggest enemy on Broadway. Everything needs to be settled and done by the premiere, there’s just no other way to go. You can’t just wing it and go with the flow. Rehearsals melt into one big mass in your mind, you start to feel like you are always there, singing, dancing, Giselling.
Exhaustion starts to kick in, causing you to lose focus and get disoriented at the worst times, when you are required to give 100% of yourself.
Matt stares at you like he could kill you right there when you mess up the same step for the millionth time, stopping the whole song.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble shaking your head.
“Do you think you can remember that it’s left-right-front-kick or are you planning on fucking it up on the premiere as well?” His words are soaked with anger and irritation and honestly, he has every right to be mad at you.
“No, I’m sorry.”
Sighing deep he checks the time on his watch and then rolls his eyes.
“Dismissed. Go home and get your shit together,” he spats as the dancers start to leave the stage, but you stand there for a few more seconds, trying to pull yourself together. This can’t continue, you can’t be any problem to the production, you are the female lead, you have to be on top all the time.
“Hey, you alright?” Adam walks up to you and this time you don’t feel any playfulness in him, he looks genuinely concerned about you.
“I’m just… I’m a little off,” you mumble feeling your throat closing up. You can’t start crying right here, you have to get the hell out of here now.
Turning around you march over to your bag and grabbing it you head out as fast as possible, Adam following you right behind.
“Hey, wait! Y/N!” He grabs you wrist on the hallway and you unwillingly but stop, avoiding to look into his eyes. “Don’t take it so serious, everyone can have bad days.”
“It’s not a bad day, I’ve been fucking up all week,” you hiss, the tears dwelling in your eyes.
“That’s alright, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
He lifts a hand up hesitantly, like he is debating what he should do, and then puts an arm around your shoulders pulling you in for a hug. You blink a few times in surprise, but his embrace feels oddly soothing, so slowly but surely you hug him back, focusing on his body’s warmth as you calm yourself down a bit.
“Are you in a rush?” he asks when you let go of each other and you shake your head no tugging your hair behind your ears. “Great. Up for a walk?”
You’ve heard about the High Line Park, but you just never got around to see it yourself. The old railway track turned into a long park runs across many streets, giving the most amazing view of the Sun going down over the city, painting the sky between the buildings, the lines of cars merging into a red and a white line on the road.
The two of you sit at a bench over one of the streets, watching the busy city at your feet eating sandwiches you got from a nearby deli.
“So what did you do before you got the role?”
Adam’s mouth is full of food and swear to God, he is the messiest eater you’ve ever seen.
“Um, a lot of stuff, I was a bartender for a year, worked at a hotel, a restaurant, you know. The usual stuff people do waiting for the big break.”
“I bet you got a lot of tip,” he scoffs making you roll your eyes, but you can’t push a smile down. You did, since your boss made you wear the tightest clothes to get the customers’ attention on you.
“What did you do before you got into acting?”
“A bunch of shit. Did some woodwork, thought I could be a carpenter, but I sucked at it. Some smaller acting gigs, you know.”
“And then Broadway?”
“Basically,” he nods.
“How do you take it so well?” you sigh leaning back and staring down at one particular car until it disappears on the corner.
“Well, I definitely don’t have as much dancing and singing going on for me than you. I’m just basically standing there skeptically until I fall in love with you,” he chuckles. “But on the other hand, I give zero shit.”
“About the show?”
“No. If I do good. Because I know that I do the max I could do at that moment, and if that’s not enough for them… Fuck them!”
“Wow,” you chuckle. “Such a free spirit!”
“I’m just done living my life for others,” he shrugs, his attention returning to the remaining of his sandwich. “You shouldn’t care that much about the stupid dances.”
“I just want to do the perfectly. That’s why they pay me.”
“You do them good enough, don’t stress. Matt is just a little angry fucker.”
You laugh at his comment on the choreographer, he surely tend to get angry sometimes.
Sitting there with Adam is probably the most relaxing thing you’ve ever experienced in months. Daylight turns into nighttime and you are still there, sharing funny stories and little bits and bites about your past with each other. He does a great job at diverting your attention from the rehearsal earlier.
“No, you have to keep your arms flexed!” you instruct him, showing him how to stand. Not sure how and why, but you ended up talking about that time you were a cheerleader and Adam wanted you to teach him some dance moves, but he sucks at it.
“Like this?” he asks, but basically does the total opposite.
“No!” you chuckle, but from then, he just starts this weird dance around you, making you laugh so hard people start to stare at you. “Stop!” you laugh trying to get a hold of him. When you finally grab onto his shoulders he stops chuckling.
“You like my dance moves?”
“They suck,” you giggle as he grabs you by the waist and tries to twirl you around, but since you are resisting it turns into a mess and you both almost fall over.
“Adam!” you shriek as you lose balance, holding onto his broad shoulders you feel yourself falling towards the ground, but he manages to keep you, leaning above you, both of you still laughing, almost crying.
“Fuck!” he barks, his hair falling into his face as you just keep laughing, hanging on Adam until you end up on the ground at last, Adam basically falling right onto you as he can’t keep himself up above you anymore.
You gasp for air and it’s just a few seconds later that you realize how close he is, practically lying on top of you on the ground. His grin slowly disappears as well, eyes locked on each other as the situation quickly turns from quirky to sexually tensed.
Because that’s how you feel, so close to him, his breath hitting your neck, arms on each of your side, legs tangled.
You don’t move, you just can’t, neither back nor forward, but that’s enough of a sign for Adam and he doesn’t want to miss the chance. With a firm move he closes the small distance between you and him, lips crashing onto yours and you kiss him back immediately.
It completely slips your mind that you are lying on the ground at High Line, a very public place, the only thing you can think about is how amazing it is to kiss Adam. Like his lips were made to be touching yours. Reaching up you cup his face in your hands as his kiss become more and more demanding, passion soaking every touch, his tongue melting together with yours completely.
“Fucking weirdos!” someone shouts and you snap back to the real world, pushing him away. It takes quite a few moments to clear your thoughts from the kiss, but when you do, reality hits harder than you’d have wanted it.
“I…” Climbing out from under him you sit up and shock sets in. You shouldn’t have kissed him, this was a mistake. Adam is the kind of person you should keep yourself away from, right?
“Y/N—“
“I gotta go,” you mumble jumping to your feet while he is still sitting on the ground.
“Wait, I—“
“See you at rehearsal.” Grabbing your bag from the bench you flee without looking back and giving him the chance to stop you.
You don’t stop until you are off the track, down at the street and daring to glance back you are relieved to see that he is not following you. Or you think you are relieved, because that’s what you should feel when you don’t see him.
You’ve never felt more stupid, confused and terrified at the same time before. You should have never let it go so far, but you don’t need too much time to realize it’s not because of the reasons you should be worried about. Not because you and him work together or because not so long ago you thought about him as this weird, kinky guy. But because you liked it, you want it to happen again and you won’t be able to keep yourself away from him now even though your brain knows you shouldn’t get involved with him.
Lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling you wish you knew what Adam was thinking. Was it a big deal for him? Is he even thinking about it? What did it mean for him?
“Fuck this,” you growl turning around and burying your face in your pillow.
The next day is an exciting one. It’s the first rehearsal with full costume, Misha sent out the notification that costumes have been finalized and Trevor confirmed that you’d be rehearsing in them from the next day on, so first thing in the morning you find yourself at Misha’s, staring at the most perfect princess dresses you’ve ever seen. You’ll have four different costumes throughout the play: a white, puffy dress for the opening, the turquoise one for the most of the scenes, a lavender dress for your very short date with the prince and the last one, the dress for the ball. The first three resemble almost perfectly to the ones in the movie, Misha did an amazing job copying them, but for the ball, she created something different.
“I talked to Trevor, he agreed a more dominant color would be better,” she explains as you examine the dress in awe. The one in the movie was a plain one, not too special, but this one in front of you is a dream. It’s a deep burgundy color with a closed front but an extremely daring back. You’ll basically have your whole back on display, but you don’t mind. This dress is a dream. The bottom is a lot more flowy than the original one and millions of tiny silver sequins were sewed to it, thick at the bottom, going less and less upwards until they fade away around your chest.
“This is breathtaking!” you say, running your fingers gently through the soft fabric.
“Try it on then,” she smirks and she doesn’t have to say it twice.
 When you walk into rehearsal in your turquoise dress and see everyone else in their costume you can’t wipe the smile off your lips. It’s mind blowing seeing everything come together and you can’t wait for the whole play to be done and ready to premiere.
“Wow, look at you!”
Clyde strides over to you in his prince costume, puffy sleeves and tight pants, an amused smile on his face as his eyes run down your body checking out the dress.
“You look very prince-like yourself,” you giggle when he takes one of your hand and twirls you around, the silky dress flowing around you perfectly.
“It’s exciting, right?”
“It’s nice to see the small parts coming together.”
The rest of the dancers soon arrive along with Trevor, Matt and Petra and from the corner of your eyes you see Adam arriving in his plain suit as well. Clyde is telling you about something that happened yesterday, but your mind goes blank when you spot Adam from across the stage. His eyes meet your gaze and he stops in his way, staring right back at you. He then heads in your direction and suddenly you want to escape. You can’t talk to him right now, you’re not ready yet.
Excusing yourself from Clyde you try to avoid Adam and your plan succeeds, because just when he reaches you Trevor requests silence, the rehearsal is starting.
“Can we talk in the break?” he whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine when the thought of his lips on your lips pops into your head again.
“Not sure it’s a good idea.”
“We need to.”
“Adam, is there something you might want to share with the whole cast?” Trevor’s voice interrupts your little secret discussion and Adam takes a tiny step away from you shaking his head.
“No, not really.”
A round of low chuckle runs through the cast, Trevor gives him a stern look before continuing. Luckily, Adam doesn’t get to talk to you for the next 90 minutes, but you are still struggling to focus fully when you can feel his burning gaze on you wherever you go. And in addition, you still have to do the twirling.
As the song carries you try to keep your focus on the lyrics and bring the best possible Giselle out of yourself. Unlike yesterday, you don’t mess the steps up and you see Matt watching with a satisfied smile on his face even though he was about to bite your head off just a day ago.
Then the time comes and turning completely to Adam you put your hands to his broad shoulders and as you leap from the ground he lifts you up, eyes locked at each other and there is that feeling again. Your body reacts to his touch and it aches for his kiss. You want to feel his lips on you again, pull his body close, feel his hands explore your body.
And then you are back on the ground and somehow you don’t miss a beat, continuing to sing perfectly, but your thoughts are still very much linked to the tall man standing somewhere behind you.
The cast goes through the entire choreography two more times and then breaking it down you repeat the critical parts until Matt is somehow satisfied with what he is seeing.
“Alright, ten minutes!” Trevor dismisses everyone and the stage quickly starts to empty out.
Heading off yourself you hold the bottom of your dress up so you don’t trip in it, but jumping off the stage at the front in this dress is quite a challenge.
“Here, let me help.”
Adam reaches up for you and you make one more attempt to get off on your own before you grab onto him and let him lift you off like you were the weight of a feather.
“Thanks,” you mumble marching past him hoping he wouldn’t come after you, but you are out of luck.
“Can we talk now?”
“No,” you simply say, but he just keeps following you. The plan was to sit at the back of the auditorium, hidden in the dark, but now Adam is with you, so there’s no chance of being alone in the next nine minutes.
“Well, we need to.”
Coming to a halt you turn to face him at last. You can’t really escape him, it’s not like he’ll just respect your will of not talking. That just wouldn’t be like him.
“Okay. Then talk,” you shortly say, arms folding on your chest. Your sudden change seemingly surprised him.
“Alrighty, uh… So that happened yesterday.”
“Yep.”
“I’m not sure why you basically ran away like I just tried to murder you or something.”
“I… It was a mistake.”
Normally it would hit the other person hard in the chest when you call a kiss a mistake. Or at least this is your experience, but Adam doesn’t seem shaken at all.
“Why do you think that?” he asks instead, wanting to understand your reasoning.
“Because…” you start w little too heated, but then nothing comes out of your mouth. Everything you thought about last night now seems too stupid to say them out loud even though you still feel the same. Adam stares back at you patiently, but he can clearly sense that you don’t have a fully comprehend answer to his questions. “Because we are very different, Adam.”
“I don’t think we are, we wouldn’t have gotten along this well if it was true.”
“Just because we got along it doesn’t mean we are compatible for more than just being friends and co-workers.”
It’s true. You’re not lying with that, but even you don’t believe it’s the case for you and him.
“I feel like you don’t believe it yourself,” he chuckles, hands on his hips. He looks so massive, you wonder what it’s like when he is pushing you into the mattress…
No! Get your shit together!
“We are co-workers. It’s not appropriate.”
“So what? Clyde is also your co-worker and you still went on a date with him.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Wait, is that the problem?” he asks taking a step back, looking for an answer in your expressions.
“That I didn’t have a date with Clyde?” you frown on confusion.
“No. Clyde. Is he the problem? Like, are you guys together or hooking up or some shit?”
“No, we are not,” you roll your eyes.
“Then what is really the problem? Because you couldn’t bring anything reasonable up. This is Broadway, they don’t give a shit if we are having an orgy between acts as long as the show is running.”
Opening your mouth you are about to say probably something stupid when Trevor’s voice rings through the place.
“Everyone back please, we are starting!” clapping he reaches for his notebook as the dancers start flowing back to the stage.
“We gotta go,” you mumble walking past him. Catching up with you he makes one last attempt to talk but it’s cut short almost immediately by Trevor as he orders everyone in place.
After rehearsal you go to change and luckily you manage to sneak out without running into Adam. He calls you when you are already on the subway, but you ignore the call. You’re convinced it’s for the best.
Lora comes over that night for a girly talk and you intend not to even mention Adam. Your thoughts need to get cleared, but it’s harder than you thought.
“Okay, what the fuck is up with you?” she asks putting her food box back to the table.
“What do you mean?” trying your best to look innocent you put some pasta into your mouth, chewing in an awkwardly slow pace.
“You look like shit and I bet you can’t tell what I was talking about just a moment ago.”
“I can! It was…” Your answer was too confident, because you actually have no idea what she just said. “Okay, I’m sorry, I zoned out.” “It’s not just zoning out, there is something, I can tell. Is it something with work? Don’t let fucking Broadway ruin you!”
“It’s not work, the play is going well.”
“Then what it is?”
Your lack of answer is just enough for Lora to figure out what’s behind all of this.
“Oh my God. It’s Adam, right? What did you not tell me? Did you fuck him backstage? Did he spank you?” Lora is quick to put together the craziest theories and you grimace at her words.
“Shut up, we did not fuck… But we kissed.”
“What?!”
Quickly you sketch up everything she missed and she listens like you are reading from the holy bible. You’re afraid she is judging you deep down and you wouldn’t be surprised, but her reaction at the end is telling another story.
“So what is your problem with him?”
“Lora,” you say giving her a look. “You saw the movie, he is a freak!”
“Don’t be such a pussy! Everyone is a freak. Are you afraid he would choke you to death or something?”
No matter how weird you thought Adam to be, you’d never think he could hurt you in any way. He is a smart guy who understands limits and boundaries, so it has never even occurred to you that he would hurt you.
“No.”
“Having kinks is not weird, in fact, I’m pretty sure you have some, you just ignore the existence of them. He likes to spank girls, so what?”
“Yeah, and he calls them whores while fucking them,” you add.
“You know, I would love to have a big, hunky guy gave me a spank, called me a dirty whore and then fucked me into another dimension.”
“What the fuck, Lora!” you gasp, but it soon turns into a laughter as she just smirks into her glass taking a few sips from her drink. “You seemed surprised too when we found that short film.”
“Of course I was, that’s not what you’d expect when you search up someone’s name, but I didn’t say I didn’t like what I saw.”
“You are not helping me,” you mumble shaking your head. You were definitely not expecting her to take his side.
“I just don’t get why you fight so bad against him. You said it yourself it’s not a problem work-wise, that they don’t care about it at Broadway. It’s pretty obvious for me that you like him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know…” “You know. You loved being with him, he is funny, smart, just generally gets you, exactly what you usually look for in a guy.”
“Clyde is the same,” you try to argue, but you already know it’s a weak point.
“Yeah, but he clearly doesn’t get you as excited as Adam.”
Keeping your eyes locked on the table you chew on her words. Everything she said is completely true, yet you still don’t feel like you are convinced. Adam is so unlike anyone you’ve ever been with, your real problem is probably not being enough for him. The guy is six feet of talent, humor and sex. His previous relationships, judging from what you saw in the film, seemed to be pretty intense, you’re not sure you can give him what he really needs and you’d hate to be a disappointment.  
“Listen, just give him a chance. Try, at least. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
She earns a look with that comment, because there are actually a lot of stuff that could happen, since you are working together. If it doesn’t turn out too well, you are stuck in the same play, falling in love every night on the stage. That’s pretty bad to be honest.
“Okay, I get your point, but I still think you should at least give him a chance,” she explains reaching for the rest of her food. “I think he is worth a try.”
-
general/forever taglist for Adam Driver
i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Adam taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Adam fics!
@superdriver @siren-queen03 @holacherrycola90 @spencer-is-amazing @unusual-kindred-spirits @hailthemightywoecloud @holy-kylo-stars @kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @hurricanesunset @writerandee @luxury-0pps @prncess91 @malefoygal @zaahidahhh @filternotincluded @fire-in-her-veinz @emily-strange @ktellmeastory @grouchosgirl @tapismyforte @unusual-driver-paterson @beeblisss @septicvic97 @cackleifyou @gotiashley @i-am-lokii-of-asgard @sarcasticbitch @mrs-ren
if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!
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srhlsx · 5 years ago
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CHAPTER 13
master | ch. 12 | ch. 14
You felt a poking in the back of your shoulder, the dull eraser end of a pencil pressing and wiggling to bother you until you acknowledged it. It took you a moment to wake up, shaking your head to pull yourself out of the sleepy state you found yourself in. You turned around to look at Iwaizumi over your shoulder, eyebrows raised in question.
“Your head was bobbing,” He stated bluntly, while his mouth stayed in a hard line his eyes were slightly playful and you knew he found your situation amusing. “Wake up and do the work.”
“Hmf,” You mumbled, returning your chin to rest on your hand and you turned back to look at the literature worksheet presented in front of you. Luckily it was just practice so your lack of concentration wasn't going to impact you too much. “Thanks, Haji.”
“You’re out of it,” He continued, kicking at the back of your seat a few times when he saw your eyes begin to droop and your head bob forward slightly. “Everything alright?”
“Hmm? Yeah, yeah,” You waved him off, glancing over your shoulder to see him staring intently at you. He twirled his finger in a circle to motion for you to turn around and face him, you grabbed your book and worksheet and did as told. You twisted your body to face him better and set your things next to his on his desk. “I’m just practicing a bit longer than usual. Trying to come up with and then teach new routines takes up most of practice so I stay after for the solo stuff. Combine that with homework, it’s sleep time that usually suffers the cut.”
He nodded in understanding and you were sure it was genuine. Based on what Oikawa had told you about volleyball you knew that they were practicing like crazy as well. “Well, just don’t hurt yourself.” He mumbled, returning to his worksheet.
You smirked, taking your pencil under his chin to make him look up at you. “That’s awfully thoughtful of you, Haji.” You cooed softly. Your tone of voice made him blush and his eyes widened at your brazen display of affection towards him so out in the open. You didn’t really think about it either, realizing how you sounded after the fact, and immediately you too dropped back to work on the task in front of you.
What had you been thinking? So openly looking at and talking to him like that, with other students barely a meter away. You were going to have to do a better job of not thinking about Iwaizumi as the boy who got you hot and bothered and more as the boy who was your boyfriend’s best friend.
That was not going to be easy. 
- - - - -
You waved goodbye to the last of the girls on your team who were leaving the dance studio. Their bags were slung over their shoulders and their warmups all matched as they talked with one another, a few giggling behind hands when they saw who was waiting just outside the door.
“Goodnight, ladies~” You turned around from where you were standing alone in the middle of the studio, messing around with your phone to find your music again, and saw the waiting figures of Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The former sent you a megawatt smile, eye closed as he greeted you cheerfully. “(Y/n), it’s time to go home!”
“Ah,” You awkwardly laughed, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of your neck as you looked anywhere but at the boy talking to you. “I’m going to stay a little bit longer. Didn’t have time for solo practice today and I need to watch a little bit of our recordings.”
Better than anyone you knew, Oikawa understood the need to stay longer than what was necessary to make yourself perfect. That was why, when you told him to go on ahead, he had simply nodded and came up to give you a small hug and press a kiss to the top of your head. “Text me later!” He said, more of a statement than a question. You nodded and told him you would.
As he turned to leave, your eyes caught Iwaizumi’s and he looked at you skeptically. After the conversation you’d had earlier that day, and how tired and distracted you had been, he thought for sure that you would want to try to calm down and take a day of rest. He thought wrong. You turned away before being able to see more of the judgement in his eyes, plugging your phone into aux cord and scrolling to select the song you wanted to play.
You rolled your neck back and forth, stretching your shoulders a few times then kicking your leg up to rest on a parallel bar to stretch the muscles as well. Iwaizumi watched, your focus completely shifting gears from him to dance, as fast as blinking an eye. He heard the deep thumping of the bass from the song you had chosen begin and your arms stretched dramatically as you ran through the movements of a routine.
His attention was quickly forced away as Oikawa nudged him out of the doorway to make their way to the entrance of the school campus. “She’s been staying a lot lately,” Iwaizumi mumbled. “She practically fell asleep in class today.”
“Well you and I both know what it’s like to want to be perfect, Iwa.” Oikawa responded, his voice surprisingly calm and quiet. His face held a thoughtful expression to it when Iwaizumi looked at him. Turning away, he couldn’t help the thoughts from taking over his head.
“Hey, I need to go grab something from my locker.” Iwaizumi stopped, hiking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the school vaguely. “Go on ahead.”
“You sure?” Oikawa asked, turning and walking backwards as he questioned his friend. Iwaizumi nodded, sure of himself, making Oikawa shrugged. “Whatever, see you tomorrow!”
“(Y/n), come on, I’m leaving.”
You looked back, shoulders and chest heaving as you stopped mid-routine to look at the door to the studio area. There stood your boyfriend, hair slicked back from showering after basketball practice and car keys dangling from his fingers. He looked antsy, ready to get going and being inconvenienced by having to wait. 
“Practice isn’t done for thirty minutes,” You huffed, trying to catch your breath after walking over to him and taking him outside of the studio. You had a feeling of where this conversation was going to go and you didn’t want to interrupt practice any more than you already had. “And I need to stay after for a little bit, to run through the solo routine a few times.”
He let out an annoyed grunt, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Again,” He said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not waiting. It’s been every day this week you’ve blown me off for this club and it would be nice if for once you put me first.”
“T-that’s not fair,” You stuttered, gaze hardening although your voice trembled slightly. “Practice isn’t even over, you know how im-”
“Just call me when you get home,” He sighed, turning to leave. “Or don’t, whatever.”
You had stopped moving around a short while ago and were now sitting cross-legged in the middle of the studio floor, a notebook open in front of you as you absently chewed at the end of a pen. You jotted down notes, drew diagrams, and continued to create and check off items on random checklists associated with what needed to be done. 
It hadn’t come as a surprise to you that being the captain of the dance team was completely different than being the captain of many other clubs. In volleyball, for example, they had a manager who was available to handle logistics and planning. You did not have that luxury and so the busy work fell on your shoulders to get done. You’d admit that you were a little crazy about it at times, wanting all details to be double and triple checked before going forward. 
The music continued to blast through the speakers, keeping the silence away from your mind as you worked. The sweat that had gathered on your skin had long ago dried and was a sticky film under the warmup you had shrugged on to keep the chills away. You’d let your hair fall down around your shoulders after having it tied up for so long, feeling the instant relief spread when you had loosened the knot it was in. You ran your hands mindlessly through your hair, relaxing at the feeling of your fingers scratching against your scalp to ebb away the stress you were feeling. When you heard a song play for the second time, you realized that your playlist was starting over again and it was probably time you started your journey home.
After locking the studio behind you and tucking the key away in your bag, you turned to leave only to stop dead in your tracks. You had to work to prevent the smile from growing on your face. You looked down at your feet and thanked a higher power that the sun had already set and the blush creeping onto your face couldn’t be seen.
“Were you waiting this whole time?” You asked, walking up to the figure slouched lazily on the bench a few meters away.
Iwaizumi shrugged like it was nothing, grabbing his bags from the ground and standing up to meet you. He stretched his arms over his head, casually allowing his shirt to rise up and you swore it took all the willpower you possessed not to take a peek at the sliver of skin that showed. “S’not a big deal” He grumbled as he let his arms fall back down to his sides. 
“It is,” You half laughed, checking the time on your phone. “Your practice ended an hour and a half ago.”
“So did yours,” He countered. You pouted at his statement, realizing you couldn’t really argue with what he said. He pushed at your lower back, grazing his fingers dangerously low, forcing you to move towards the gates of the school to start the trip home. “Besides, it’s dark and you shouldn’t walk home alone.”
You turned around to smile up at the sweet words he had spoken, face scrunching up slightly as you pressed your chest against his, “I can offer you a poorly made dinner as thanks!” 
When you turned back around you bumped your hip into his, making him stumble just a little and reach out to grab you without thinking twice. His fingers played with the hem on the back of your track jacket, tugging playfully as you laughed at his expense and continued to walk. After a moment, Iwaizumi realized he was still holding on to you and let his hand drop back to his side. A pain in his chest confused him for a second, unsure about where it came from or why it even appeared in the first place.
“Do you stay late a lot?” He asked, looking around and noticing how dark it was out. The streets were pretty empty but Iwaizumi knew that didn’t mean there wouldn’t ever be trouble on some other day. The idea of you walking alone at this time of day surprisingly lit a spark in him.
“Ah, not always. I’ve gotten better,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It used to be all the time, and I’m pretty sure that was just to avoid going home to an empty house.”
Iwaizumi looked down at you from the corner of his eyes. He’d heard you mention things about your empty home before, how the only other presence there was usually just your dog. He couldn’t imagine what that would be like, his grandma was always shuffling around trying to take care of him and he couldn’t imagine having none of that.
“With everything we have coming up,” You took in a deep breath of air, clutching the straps of your backpack as you held it and let your lungs burn. You released the hold on your lungs with a harsh gasp, “I just have to stay focused.”
“You can rest though,” He said, looking down at you sweetly although you didn’t notice, avoiding his gaze. You knew how he was looking at you, like you were doing too much - or maybe not doing enough. “Wearing yourself down… Breaking yourself… It’s going to catch up.”
He so badly wanted to reach out, to touch you, to caress your face or run his hands through your hair. Anything to comfort you. And he almost did, he caught himself, hand starting to raise up, and quickly shoved it in the pocket of his jacket instead when you started to speak again. 
“Well,” You sighed, nodding your head with a look of determination. “When that happens, then I’ll rest.”
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kellykadesperate · 5 years ago
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Father Christmas’ grotto
Part 1/5 of my 5 days until Christmas Day AU Fics, AO3 link:
Robert’s not sure how much more he can take of the Christmas music in this shopping mall but he’s trying not to show it. He’s got fairy lights shining in his face and he’s pretty sure he’s left hand is numb from holding all the bags he’s got.
There’s also a four year old tugging down on his arm like he wants it to pull off.
“Seb, it’s home time. We said.”
They said, because Seb’s eating a gingerbread man he so desperately desired and Robert had made sure he understood that it signalled home time. He’s not sure how much a four year old knows about consequences of actions but he’s trying to teach him what he failed to know until he was suddenly a dad.
Seb just looks up at him like he’s mad, like the thought of leaving this Christmas filled Hell hole is inconceivable.
“We said.” Robert says, again, but then he’s completely lost to the sight of an elf coming his way. Not an elf, of course not an elf, it’s just some blond with green eyeshadow on and her hair in pigtails.
“Oh. Who do we have here?”
“Seb. Sebastian.” Robert’s surprised he’s not handed over his actress too because Seb has no idea what not speaking to strangers actually means. He steps forward, almost gives her a little twirl and it makes the elf’s eyes flutter.
“Would you like to go see ...” Robert can feel it coming, he knows, he knows she’s going to mention Father Christmas and he wants the ground to swallow him up.
“He’s fine.” Robert misses the way he could easily chuck Seb over his shoulder and power walk in the opposite direction. Now Seb protests, asks why about ten times and tries kicking Robert’s back in to make his point clear.
Seb’s not fine until he sees the back of some bloke in a big red costume and a stupid hat on his head. He gasps, like he genuinely believes it’s all real and then he breaks out into this run that has Robert chasing after him.
Seb’s little legs get him right up towards the poor sod until he’s pulling on his leg and looking up at him like he’s everything.
“Are you really him?” Seb’s mouth is wide open, his gingerbread man is half eaten and soggy from the way he refuses to eat the head. He holds it in his mouth and thinks he’s hurting him. He’s sensitive, he blames Rebecca fiercely.
The guy in the suit looks down at him and Robert focuses on his eyes. He looks young, almost stupidly young to be having to do all this. He has creases around his eyes, deep and soft and then he looks at Seb, leans right down to him after a second.
“What do you think mate?”
“Yeah. Of course you are.” Seb shrugs and then leans to drag at the bloke’s beard. “See. It’s real.” He looks up to Robert. “Daddy, it’s really real.”
The man almost laughs, tilts his head up towards Robert. “Does daddy not believe?”
Robert shakes his head. “Daddy doesn’t think there’s any need to tell stories.” He never has, he’s always been that guy who said he wouldn’t tell his kids about Father Christmas because there’s no need to.
“It’s the honest truth.” Seb says, he stamps his foot and sends his gingerbread man towards the floor.
Robert sighs, bends to pick it up as pretend Father Christmas goes to do the same. For a second, a hand brushes over his and the guy looks right at him. There’s this sudden and very real feeling of something that makes Robert stumble back to his feet.
He’s holding a wet soggy biscuit and he looks like an idiot but he doesn’t look away from the man until the elf is back and asking if he wants to sit on his knee.
“Do I what?” Robert clams up, absolutely has no idea why he’s getting into such a state.
“Think Tracy meant the kid.” The bloke’s happy and friendly voice is out the window as he looks at Robert, smirks. “Would you like that?”
And it costs him, of course it costs him, to watch Seb sit on some random bloke’s lap with a hat on and a fake beard. Only Christmas.
Robert watches from the side, sees how animated Seb is as he talks about what he knows he’s going to get. It starts with a toy tractor and then somehow gets all the way up to a puppy.
“A puppy?” The guy’s voice is back, all soft and sweet and Robert stares a little too fondly at the way he’s supporting Seb’s back as he bounces him. He’s probably done this hundreds of times, he’s probably a natural.
“What would mummy and daddy say to that?”
“Daddy would say no.” Robert chimes in, arms folded as he watches and leans up from the glass window.
Seb rolls his eyes, and Robert is certain that’s Vic’s influence over him. He plays with his hands for a second like he’s really thinking. “Mummy and Tom could both say yes.”
“Tom?” Not so Father Christmas asks. “That your brother?”
Seb giggles, deep and playful and he shakes his head. “That’s mummy’s boyfriend.”
Robert watches as the man looks right at him, he’s sure he sees a smirk, he definitely sees something and it makes him tilt his head down like he’s a little girl. He’s all shy and stupid and the guy is still wearing a stupid white beard.
“Well. How about ... I see what I can do.”
It’s enough for Seb to throw his arms around the man’s neck, squeeze tight like he’s never going to let go. The elf comes back to take a picture and that’s when he eventually pulls away. Just in time to flash a smile at the camera and wave his arms out for Robert to join them.
He does, painfully. He fakes a smile and watches pretend Father Christmas throw a glance his way.
After, Seb’s nearly in tears about having to go and the man runs a hand through his hair, tuts like he’s sorry. “It’s alright mate, you can come again soon can’t ya?”
Seb nods, thinks it’s completely normal to hug the man’s poor leg and Robert apologises.
“You don’t have to ...” He stammers, all bright red, sounding nervous and like the Father Christmas in him has faded out. “It’s fine. Kids are kids aren’t they.”
Robert nods, manages to wave as he puts Seb on his shoulders. “Thanks.” He says, for some reason. It’s not like Seb’s not a happy kid but there was something about him chatting away to a pretend Father Christmas that made him seem happier.
The guy tilts his head. “Bye.” He says, and then he’s being summoned by the elf again.
Robert watches him turn back and knows he has to run towards the bakery again to keep Seb from having a breakdown. He gets him another gingerbread man, watches him wince as he removes the legs like the things about to come to life.
“After this it’s home time. OK?”
Seb just nods like he knows it won’t be and Robert has really raised an absolute tyrant. He even smirks. Robert shakes his head at him before he stops and looks at the man ordering at the till. He knows who it is almost immediately.
The man seems to know as well, cautiously steps forward towards them both.
“You’re ...”
“FC?” The man nods. He’s wearing normal clothes, a green jumper and a pair of jeans and absolutely no white beard in sight. He looks a lot like someone Robert could want.
Robert takes a second before nodding. “Right.”
“Aaron.” Aaron gulps hard, skirts a finger around the rim of his coffee cup and then smiles. “When I’m not ...” He looks at Seb. “Him.”
Robert smiles. “Robert.” He looks at Seb, fully engrossed in how to tackle the head of the gingerbread man. “This is Seb.” He says, realising the elf might not have said.
Aaron’s eyes almost light up in this really soft way.
“Seb, say hello.”
Seb looks up, offers a curious look. “Me and daddy saw Father Christmas.”
“Did ya?”
“Yeah. We even got a picture.” Robert suddenly remembers how they didn’t get it printed and then Aaron seems to produce it from his pocket. It’s some Christmas decorated envelope and Seb’s eyes widen.
“Left it behind.” Aaron passes it to Robert.
“How’d you’d know we’d come back for it.”
Aaron’s nose is pink now. “I didn’t.” He says. “Maybe I saw you come in.” He shrugs. The way he looks at Robert is definitely something, he stares and stares until Seb pipes up.
“Santa’s getting me a puppy.”
Robert closes his eyes for a second. “You have no idea what you’ve done.” He says, but he’s smiling. He’s actually smiling.
Aaron pulls a face, bends down to Seb. “Maybe he’ll get you something he thinks you need more.” He says. Seb looks at him and then smiles.
“Do you know him?”
“Yeah. Of course I do.” Aaron says, he puffs out his chest and he’s so easy with them. “I’m one of his lead helpers.” Seb frowns and then Aaron goes and pulls out a bell from his jean pocket, it’s tiny and jingles and Seb looks like he’s in awe again.
“It’s from his sleigh.” Seb says, with so much confidence that Aaron laughs.
“Sure it is.” Aaron looks at Robert, then back at Seb. “Why don’t you keep it.”
Robert shakes his head. “No, it’s ...”
“It’s fine.” Aaron shrugs and looks at Seb. “But take care of it OK?” Seb nods and then he’s getting up and holding Aaron’s leg for the second time in the space of an hour. Aaron holds the back of his head like he doesn’t know what else to do and then Seb’s running around the place shaking the bell.
Aaron stands over Robert until Robert stands. “That was really ... nice.”
“So’s he.” Aaron says. “Not all kids ...”
“Talk so much?”
Aaron just pulls this face. “Make me not actually hate doing the whole Ho Ho Ho thing.” He almost laughs again and Robert stares down at the ground feeling like something inside him is bursting.
“Holiday job then?”
“Doing a mate a favour.” Aaron settles on saying after a second. “A big one but ...” Aaron gulps hard and then stares into Robert’s eyes. “Wouldn’t have met you otherwise. Can’t be all bad.” He flushes completely red and Robert bends his head to stifle a laugh. “I mean ...”
“I know what you meant.” Robert says, looks up at Aaron again and sees this kindness he’s never known in someone before now. “Maybe I could ... take your number or something.”
The or something hangs in the air until Aaron’s saved on his phone under FC.
“Cool.” Aaron says, “Sound.” He itches an eyebrow and then steps back, almost hits a chair as he waves to Seb and then turns to leave before stopping. “You did mean ... for like a date yeah?”
Robert has shared custody of a four year old boy, lives in a dingy flat and really had decided to write off Christmas until right this minute. He nods, breathes out a yes.
FC is changed to Aaron on his phone only a week later. They date or whatever and Aaron really is he kindest person Robert has ever met. He’s also not bad in bed. He’s round for Christmas, makes Seb really think Father Christmas has personally visited him this year.
Two years later, it’s Robert’s turn to don a not so stupid anymore white beard and watch Seb gasp at the present his dad’s holding as he sits on Aaron’s shoulders. There’s a puppy licking Robert’s palm but he doesn’t really care because Aaron’s still here, and his and kissing him on the lips and he’s happy.
So Christmas shopping with a four year old can have its perks.
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cosmicbash · 4 years ago
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no but like oh my god, imagine if kells only has sex with em bc that’s the only way he can think of repaying the rapper??? christ, like, he only thinks of em’s own pleasure instead of his own, using his body as an apology, bc that’s the only way he knows how (i mean there’s his music too, but he thinks em fucking hates his music) ((idk might write abt this, but i kinda want u to kickstart it uknow?))
Yess yess yess I love this.
It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?
A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it. 
He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.
By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.
He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room. 
It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees. 
Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.
But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.
It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.
So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."
The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.
How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?
But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays. 
The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.
He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.
"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly." 
Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.
"Y-yeah."
Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though. 
Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol. 
A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.
It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.
The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.
But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst. 
Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.
He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.
“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.
He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.
A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy. 
Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop. 
The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“
Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.
It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk. 
“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”
He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.
The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.
“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.
He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is. 
The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet. 
It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.
It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.
"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-" 
"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"
When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.
It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair. 
----
(Okay so this has set in my docs wayyyy too long now and you said you just wanted it maybe even as a kickstart so 🤲🤲 here is my humble offering)
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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years ago
Text
A Rose of Unconscious Beauty (Part 6)
All work and no play make Dante a dull devil, but when he finds out about his brother's flowery friend he sees an opportunity to cure his boredom. Well, that and his curiosity about what kind of woman catches Vergil's attention. So, he decides to spontaneously visit your garden to see what all the buzz is about.
Hope you enjoy these two finally meeting! And gardening puns...just all the gardening puns. 😆❤
Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹
Chapter 1: Meeting Dante
Life has been pretty good for Dante since he got back from his little foray into hell. He may still be in quite a bit of debt, but that never stops him from living life to the fullest. For the first time in a long time he does not feel so alone in the Devil May Cry shop. There is just one problem that plagues him now as he leans back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of his desk as a huge overdrawn yawn escapes his mouth…
He is bored.
Very, very…BORED.
The occasional odd job usually keeps him entertained, but business has been slow recently. There is only so much games of pool and swimsuit magazines before Dante is positively itching to fight something…anything. Nero has taken advantage of this dry spell and is finally getting hitched to Kyrie. Even Vergil, who he annoys into fighting sometimes just for sheer fact that it relieves his boredom for a while, has taken to disappearing from time to time.
Oh yeaaaaah. The mysterious flowery friend.
Dante ponders the potential of that whole situation giving him something to do besides sitting alone in his shop. He did not think it strange when Vergil started to go out more…in fact, he is proud that his brother is finally embracing his humanity and making this world his home. But when his cranky brother came back to the shop with pretty little blue flowers wrapped around his beloved Yamato…well, now that just piqued his curiosity. He tries to goad Vergil into telling him where he got the flowers or where he has been disappearing off to lately, but that conversation usually ends with him being stabbed a lot. Dante got his answer one day when Nero asks if he knew this florist that his old man just recommended to him. It all just suddenly clicked. The constant visits, the soft cloud nine smiles, just the overall secrecy…
Vergil…has a crush.
Just the idea of his brother being head over heels for someone has Dante shaking his head in wonder. Vergil has already left the shop, probably visiting his florist friend if Dante had to guess. It happens to be the day that Nero and Kyrie are supposed to meet their savior of flowers. He wanted to tag along to see what all the hype is about, but Nero absolutely refused to let him. Usually, that is not enough to deter Dante, but then his nephew just had to sick Kyrie on him. And how could anyone say no to her? So, here he sits…extremely bored and very curious.
I have to know if it’s true…if my dumbass brother really is lovestruck…
A sudden idea pops into Dante’s head as he takes out his cellphone and begins to text:
Dante: Hey! Gonna see your old mans flower girl today, amiright?
Nero: NO. Forget it.
Nero: Im not spying 4 u
Dante: NO ONE said ANYTHING about spying!
Dante: Just a couple of pics!
Nero: NO U CREEP
Dante: OH C’MON!!!
Dante taps on his screen vigorously as he provokes his stubborn nephew to reply, but after a few minutes of continued silence he gives up. He rolls his eyes as he groans in mild irritation and drops his phone onto the desk. His nimble fingers stroke his scruffy chin in thought, wondering if there will ever be an end to this torturous boredom…then it hits him faster than the Devil May Cry van. Nico! Dante snaps his fingers and nods his head in approval at his own ingenious idea. He snatches his phone back up and begins to text again:
Dante: Heyyyyyyy
Nico: Wat
Dante: Wanna help a friend out?
Nico: Lemme guess
Nico: U want me to spy for ya, right?
Dante: A couple of pics is NOT spying
Nico: Yeah yeah whatever
There is a long pause and Dante almost thinks his last-ditch effort is a bust. Until…
Nico: Mayyyyybe I’ll do it
Nico: Wats in it for me tho?
Dante only has to think about her prize for second before replying.
Dante: I’ll let you check out my guns
Nico: Ive already seen my fair share of muscles
Dante: Im talking about Ebony and Ivory
Nico: U GOTTA FUCKIN DEAL
Dante clenches his fist in victory. Nico tells him to hold tight while she finds a good hiding spot and the perfect angle. So, he grabs the nearest swimsuit magazine to read while he waits for Nico’s sneaky photos.
He only has to read a couple of pages of articles and check out a few curvy ladies before his phone vibrates. “Well now…let’s see what we've got,” he announces aloud as his hand instantly picks up his phone and eagerly opens up the message. Here she is! is written below two pictures of a bubbly woman with a bright smile and lively eyes. In one photo she is sitting down at a garden table, and in the other she is standing by a bed of flowers. She is wearing white summer dress and has a white flower in her hair. Dante chuckles in glee because now he understands why his brother has fallen so hard: the local florist is a total babe!
Dante is about to get back to his magazine when another text from Nico comes through:
Nico: Yoooooooooo
Nico: U didnt tell me that Vergil was gonna be here!
Dante: Im not my brother’s keeper!
Nico: Im NOT about to get stabbed if he catches me
Nico: Im out
Dante: WAIT
Dante: I’ll sweeten the deal!
Dante: If you get a pic of them together
Nico: DANTE
Dante: Then I’ll let you check out my guns
Dante: FOR A WEEK
A very long pause follows and Dante thinks that Nico is still going chicken out despite his sudden add on to her prize when her response chimes in:
Nico: U better hold up your end of the deal, Dante
Dante: Nicooooo u know I always keep my word!
Nico: Cuz if u dont, I’ll run u over with the van
Dante: No u wont
Nico: VROOM VROOM BITCH
Dante’s amused chuckle echoes throughout the shop. “So, that’s where you’re running off to,” he comments to himself. “The secret garden.” As he waits for Nico’s next photo, he starts to wonder what kind of a woman catches the eye of his broody brother. I mean…sure, you’re a cutie, but Dante knows that Vergil is not so easily swayed by looks alone. Of course, he could be reading into this too much and you’re actually just a really adorable friend…which is why he has to see both of you together. If Vergil has that soft smile on his face and if you show any sign of reciprocating his brother’s feelings…
His phone vibrates and Dante immediately opens the message. How's this for ya? reads Nico’s text along with a bunch of laughing emojis and a video clip. He arches an eyebrow as he presses play. He sees Nero, Kyrie, Vergil, and you all walking together by a bunch of flowers. He cannot make out the soft conversation of the group, but he does hear a lighthearted giggle as you do a twirl. Dante squints his eyes when he notices your hand reach for something in your dress…then his eyes widen as you throw petals into the air. The distinct growl of his brother comes through the audio and Dante nearly chokes on his own laugh. Some of the little pink flowers you threw…are sticking to Vergil’s hair!
I’m totally saving this just for the look on his face!
Dante kicks his feet off of the desk and he leans forward in his chair, never taking his eyes off the screen as Nero and Kyrie step out of frame. He tilts his head when Vergil kneels and you start to pluck the flowers from his hair. Dante has to rub his eyes to make sure he is really seeing these events correctly. Things get really interesting when you move in closer. The awkward expression on his brother’s face is pure gold. But what really has him pressing his nose to the screen is when Vergil stands up and you both just stare at each other. It is like a scene cut straight from a romantic movie. Dante has never seen his brother look so…totally in love. And you are mirroring the exact same expression.
Jackpot!
The video starts to shake and he hears Nico quietly cursing up a storm. The screen is a blur for a moment before it just totally cuts off. Dante is still for a while as he takes in everything that just happened. He honestly did not expect Vergil to be bitten by the love bug. A genuine smile curls on his lips as he thinks that maybe you are exactly what his brother needs to finally let go of the past and start living. But he cannot be the helpful little brother that he is without at least meeting you first. The genuine smile turns mischievous as Dante texts Nico about happened after the video ended and where exactly is this secret garden in the city...
(A Week Later...Reader’s POV)
The late afternoon sun beats down as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You examine the rambling roses you are currently pruning, checking to see if you missed anything before standing up and stretching your legs. Sweet basil, it’s hot, you thought, taking off your gardening hat and fanning your face as you pocket your pruning shears. You think about Vergil and how he always seems to keep cool while wearing a long blue coat in the summer.
The power of Sparda must also include internal air conditioning. You giggle at your own quip as you put the gardening hat back on your head and decide to take a break. As you walk through the multitude of flowers you search for any sign of the Son of Sparda among the flora. He has not called to inform you that he is stopping by today, but that does not necessarily mean he will not show up unannounced…annoyingly startling you before buttering you up with an offering of beautiful blooms.
Vergil has been regularly visiting you in your garden now. Sometimes both of you read and drink tea under the fruit trees, other times you have to work and just let him read in peace while frolicking about your garden. Every now and then he insists on looming close behind you, claiming that he wants to observe how you arrange bouquets and care for the flowers. There are a few times that you somehow rope him into helping since he is so inclined to learn and you must admit…seeing a tall and imposing man handle tiny flowers carefully is so endearing, making you fall even harder for the handsome devil.
You step through the backdoor and walk into your kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and swiftly open the door. When the cold air hits your face you sigh and just stand there for a moment to cool off as you reach for a bottle of water. You close the fridge and head to your office to check the status of a shipment on your computer while you guzzle down half of the bottle. The flowers for Nero and Kyrie’s wedding are well in supply, but you ordered some extra ribbon, wires, needles, and other miscellaneous supplies. It is a little stressful that you only have so much time to pull this off, but that only pushes you to do your utmost best to give them the best flowers they have ever seen. All seems to be order, you mentally note, finishing off your water bottle as you tab out of the website.
Time to get back to work! You go back out to the garden, grab the garden hose, and turn on the outdoor faucet. You adjust the nozzle on the hose to spray into a mist and set off to water some flowers. “Alright, my darlings!” you say cheerfully as you step up to the first section of flowers. “Who’s thirsty?” You happily spray their petals with glistening droplets as you hum softly. One of the many reasons why you enjoy gardening so much is just how tranquil it can be, your mind slipping into a peaceful state as all your worries just drift away and you feel like a flower basking in the warm sunlight.
Although, you do find yourself ceaselessly daydreaming about a certain white-haired gentleman while gardening lately. You cannot get the feel of his slicked back locks out of your thoughts, yearning to do more than just pluck petals from his hair. You wonder if the bergamot scent is from a cologne he is wearing or the constant cups of his favorite tea. And the expression on his face after you picked the stray petals from his hair…cheeks slightly blushing as his gleaming silver eyes stare straight into your soul. The very memory of it has you shivering in delight as you turn around to water the next section of flowers.
“Holy hollyhock!”
The sudden appearance of a man in a long red jacket standing in your garden has you jumping back in surprise. Your foot steps on the garden hose, making you lose your balance and start to tip over. Thankfully, the stranger has quick reflexes and quickly leans forward to catch your fall. “Whoa! Easy there!” he exclaims as he sets you upright, doing his best to avoid the misty spray of the hose still clutched in your hand. That is when you notice his distinct white hair swaying in front of his blue eyes. And his face…if it was not for the slight fuzz of a beard or the care-free expression, he would be the spitting image of Vergil. Which can only mean…
“You must be Dante.”
“What gave it away?” he asks, dramatically holding his hands out to the side as he nods his head in confirmation.
“You wouldn’t be a Son of Sparda if you didn’t scare your local gardener to death!”
Dante tilts head at your answer and smirks as he examines you from head to toe. “I dig the overalls,” he comments as he gestures to your attire. You look down at your green gardening overalls, the phrase "I like big buds and I cannot lie" imprinted on the front surrounded by large colorful flower buds.
“Thanks!” you laugh, turning off the garden hose. “I’m Y/N! I don’t recall Vergil saying that he was going to finally introduce me to you.”
“So, he’s told you about me? Did he mention that I am the better-looking twin?” he jests as he takes a step back and strikes a charmingly rugged pose.
“Uh, he mentioned that you are a demon hunter, a foolish buffoon, and…whoa!” Your eyebrows shoot up as you closely examine his coat. “Your jacket does look really expensive!”
Dante rolls his eyes as he relaxes from his over-the-top stance. “He just can’t let that go, huh?” He shakes his head and lightly chuckles.
“So…what brings you to my garden?” you inquire kindly, not letting his surprise visit distract you from being hospitable. Dante did not mention his brother being present here with him, so you hope that Vergil does not mind you being friendly and helping his brother out if he needs it.
“The girls keep telling me I need something to brighten up the shop,” he explains as he scratches the back of his head. “So, I figured some flowers from my brother’s friendly neighbor florist might do the trick.”
You smile sweetly. “Okay! Do you have any kind of flowers in mind?”
“Well, my mother’s favorite flowers were-”
“Burgundy roses!”
Dante quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just read my mind?”
A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Vergil told me that his mother had a modest garden herself, and that she grew those roses a lot. Don’t worry,” you affirm as your hand sets down the garden hose. A big confident smile spreads across your face as you twirl in excitement, pausing to strike your own cute pose. “I got you covered!”
He nods his head in approval. “Right on.”
You make small talk with Dante as you lead him to the rose section of your garden, asking if by “the girls” he means the other two demon hunters that work with him. He confirms your guess and grumbles about how unfair it is that you know so much the crew while he knows next to nothing about you. That is quickly remedied though as he bombards you with the oddest series of questions…most of them involving strawberries and pizza. When you tell him that you used to work at the local pizzeria and bakery in your home town he enthusiastically asks if you made the pizzas. You laugh at his boyish glee and inform him that you sometimes helped with the pizzas, but you mostly baked the pastries and desserts.
“Here we are!” You point to a bush full of the dark reddish-purple roses as you step through the various buds and blooms. “Roses of unconscious beauty!” Dante studies the rose bush as you approach it, lean in, and inhale their lovely fragrance. You breathe out in delight and start looking for the best blooms for a bouquet. “Aren’t they lovely?” You look over your shoulder and see that Dante is barely paying attention. His blue green eyes gaze distantly at the rose bush, reminding you a little of Vergil’s silver blue eyes when he recedes into his head. You wait a moment before deciding to coax him out of pensive stupor.
“Flower for your thoughts?”
Dante blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry about that. I was just…remembering something.” He walks over and stands next you, a small grin appears on his face as he peers down at you. “These would look nice on my desk. I’ll take ‘em.”
“Alright!” You reach into your pocket, taking out the pruning shears still stored in there and begin snipping some select roses, carefully removing the thorns before sticking them in another pocket until you can properly tie them together.
Dante quietly watches you for a few moments before he crosses his arms and leisurely leans back. “So…you and my brother.”
You snip a third rose as you glance over at him. “Me and your brother…?” you repeat, hoping he will expand upon the conversation he started. Dante just continues to gaze at you inquisitively. Your brow furrows in puzzlement as you wonder what he is trying to imply…until it suddenly hits you.
No way. He can’t be…
“Are you…Dad-terogating me?”
“Am I what now?”
“You know…that thing fathers do when daughters bring home their boyfriends.” Your voice drops as you do your best impersonation a stern father figure. “What are your intentions little girl?”
“Oh man,” Dante snickers. “And what if I am?” he counters with a puckish smirk.
“Well, Mr. Sparda,” you begin with a cheeky grin, turning to him while you clutch a thornless burgundy rose close to your chest. “I only have the best intentions towards your brother, Vergil. They include smiles, laughter, and a healthy dose of poetry with dash of tea…Oh!” You dip your hand into the front pocket of your overalls. “And lots of flower showers!” Your grin turns cheerful as you toss pink hydrangea petals high into the air.
Dante stares at you closely for a moment, totally unfazed by the petals scattering around him before he chuckles softly. “Well now…how can I argue with that? My party pooper of a brother needs it.”
You giggle and go back to snipping more roses. A fourth one is freed and you begin to remove the thorns from the stem. “It’s sweet of you to look out for him, you know,” you point out with a genuine smile. “You’re a good brother, Dante.”
He smiles back and is about to respond when an awful hellish screech fills the air. Your head snaps over to the direction it is coming from, but you already know what those sounds mean. Dante casually looks over as well, but he does not look as concerned as you. His face reminds you more of the neighborhood kids when the ice cream truck drives by. “Looks like our flower pickin’ is gonna have to wait,” he surmises as he struts briskly towards the commotion.
You pocket the pruning shears and the rose in your hand as you hurriedly follow behind him. The screeching is now really loud and as you step into to a clearing you see the familiar forms of demons just beyond the gates of your garden. Even though you live in a city known for its constant hellish attacks, the sight of their malformed bodies never fails to freeze your blood. The closest one, resembling a large corrupted bat, flies over the gate and hovers near one of your apple trees. It shrieks as its throat starts to glow red. Anger floods through your body when you register what it intends to do to your lovely fruit trees.
“Oh, no you DON’T!” you shout as you run by the gardening tools still laying out, grabbing the garden hoe as you pass by and rush towards the bat-like creature. It swivels around just as you draw your makeshift weapon back and swing up at it with all your strength. The hoe connects and a pained squeal rings out as the demon is knocked back a little bit away from the apple tree. You let out a shuddering breath, quickly realizing that perhaps smacking a demon with a gardening tool was not the best idea.
Multiple gunshots startle you out of your internal dread as they streak up at the bat-like demon. It shakes violently before it drops to the ground and disintegrates. You turn around and see Dante holstering two guns behind his back before giving you a round of applause. “Not bad! Very inventive use of…” his hands pause as he inspects your tool curiously.
“It’s a hoe,” you bluntly inform him.
“Really?” Dante puts his hands on his hips as he circles around you, shielding you from the oncoming demons notice. “Well then…you really know how to handle a hoe!”
You snort and check your tool for any signs of it being broken or bent. “You know what they say…a dirty hoe is a happy hoe!” you joke, flashing him the disgusting bloody residue on the tip. Dante hunches over as a hearty laugh burst from his lips. You feel a sense of accomplishment at making such a clever gardening pun, but it is short lived as a series of terrible growls and roars remind you of the current danger. “Umm,” you mutter softly, “as much as I would like to give more demons a good hoeing…”
Dante reigns in his boisterous laughter and nods. “Yeah...get yourself to safety.” He runs and skillfully jumps over the gate. Before he goes to deal with the demons, he looks over his shoulder at you. “Even though I’m not a hoe I can still get rid of these nasty weeds,” he quips with a wink.
You laugh and shake your head at his own gardening pun before retreating back to your house, sighing in relief as your backdoor comes into view. When you are a few feet away from safety, a low rumbling growl reaches your ears, making you stop in your tracks. You still have your garden hoe, so you hold it up in defense as you scan your surroundings for any immediate threat. It is quiet for a moment…then a series obscure red streaks zoom around you. Your eyes try to track whatever is circling you, but you cannot see what is stalking you like prey.
Your body is quaking now as you turn around to glance behind you. A lizard-like demon with a vicious red blade protruding from one of its scaly arms is leaping through the air straight at you. Your instincts kick in and you raise your gardening tool up in defense, even though you feel certain that it will not enough to block that sharp blade. A series of tumultuous emotions sling around your mind, but one strongly overtakes you as the image of Vergil pops into your head…regret.
I didn’t even get to tell him that-
Before you are able to close your eyes and brace yourself for the deadly impact, a sudden blur of blue spheres pop up and knock back your scaly assailant. A familiar form clad in a blue coat suddenly appears next to the demon and proceeds to hit it with a series of slashes. When he finishes his ruthless onslaught, he turns his back on the demon and dramatically sheaths his sword. Just as the hilt of the sword slams into the case, the demon convulses in pain one last time before collapsing on the ground.
The regret you felt earlier fades away as your devilish rescuer turns towards you. The usual scowl on his face is now even more severe as he scrutinizes your appearance. He may be fuming with rage, but you do not mind, nor do you care. “Vergil!” you cry, trying to thank him for saving your life, but you feel so overwhelmed that no words come out. All you can do is smile gratefully as your eyes well up with tears, so happy that you get to see the man you feel so deeply for again after all.
Read Part 6 (Ch. 2) here
Read on my Ao3
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Tagging: @drusoona, @thedyingmoon, @bettybattaglia, @veenus-ow, @meowykittenn, @fandomhell97, @vergilsangel, @venomous-lawyer, @alicewinchester
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katastrophe-s · 5 years ago
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OC Interview
Tagged by @/kornyo teehee 💗
If you see this and feel like doing it, consider yourself tagged 💗
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name ➔ Rolling her shoulders, she stretches her legs in front of her and crosses them at the ankle, “just Roach.”
are you single ➔ “…” 
are you happy ➔ “…”
are you angry ➔ “I’m certainly heading in that direction.” Followed by an admittedly impressive eye roll.
are your parents still married ➔ Sighing dramatically, she swings an arm over the back of her seat to recline, “no, don’t reckon. They’re still together as far as I know, but marriage was never on their agenda.”
NINE FACTS
birthplace ➔ “Ontario.”
hair ➔ A tilt of the head. “As in, the color? Do you have fucking eyes?”
eye color ➔ Another eye roll. Blows a strand of hair off her cheek lazily. “Pink like a flamingo. Dickhead.” You get the feeling she isn’t taking this very seriously.
mood ➔ “Bored shitless.”
gender ➔ She picks at the black lacquer on her nails, uncrosses her ankles, and adds nothing of further interest.
summer or winter ➔  “I suppose winter.”
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
are you in love ➔ "Yawn.”
do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Nope. Next.”
who ended your last relationship ➔ Her gaze falls downcast, like she was somewhere else for a brief moment, before exhaling through her nose quietly. “A baseball bat, if I recall.”
have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ She snickers at the thought,  but you’re not certain why exactly. “How about this – if you guess my answer correctly you win a gold star and a capri sun! Any takers? No? Shame.”
are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No – well, yes. Depends.”
have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Fuck if I remember.” Her wrist rolls in a vague waving gesture, perhaps a little too defensively, and she looks away. “Probably. Who’s to say?”
have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Another little laugh, as if she were sharing an inside joke with herself, and whispers, “millions, my dear. Millions.” 
have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Tell you what I do have; a tally of all the windows I’ve smashed.” She’s clearly amused, smiling widely.
SIX CHOICES
love or lust ➔ “Eh, lust is too easy. Everyone picks that answer. Love is worth a bit of effort, in my opinion.”
lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea, no sugar.”
cats or dogs ➔ So far this is the only question that seems to pique her interest even a little bit, and she scoots forward. “Cats,” she admits quietly.
a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A shrug, somewhat disappointed that the next question wasn’t about her pets. She twirls a white-blonde curl with her fingertips idly, “quality over quantity, no?”
wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “I’m charmed well enough to do anything if the company’s worth it.”
day or night ➔ “Night.”
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
been caught sneaking out ➔ “Guess.” 
fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Gravity’s a family friend,” her smile is oddly off-putting in a way that’s difficult to pinpoint, “he would never let me fall.”
wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ A slow upward twist of the mouth, “you could say that I’m a creature of desire, oui.” 
wanted to disappear ➔ “Who hasn’t?”
FOUR PREFERENCES
smile or eyes ➔ She spits something under her breath before answering. “Eyes. Windows to the soul or whatever the hell they say. You can’t fake your eyeballs, unlike a smile. Not without a bit more of an effort, anyway.”
shorter or taller ➔ “You know what would be fun? This quiz, if I was blackout drunk and at least ten years younger.”
intelligence or attraction ➔ “No one’s gonna come up and fuck you just ‘cause you have a four digit IQ.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I should know.”
hook-up or relationship ➔ “I tend to walk into a room and marry the first person I lay my eyes on, actually. I’ve got such a long list of divorcees to wipe my ass on. Is that not a common phenomenon?” Her smile suggests she’s just teasing you now.
FAMILY
do you and your family get along ➔ “We did once, a long time ago. I don’t call home as often as I should these days.”
would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ She giggles sweetly at this, swinging one leg over the other in a graceful sort of manner. “Do I look anything other than perfect to you? Of course not.”
have you ever ran away from home ➔ “It’s the last thing I did before I caught a cab out of there.” Her pale hair sways as she shakes her head at the memory, “motherfuckers.”
have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Yes, but you only have three guesses as to where, precisely, I’ve been booted from. Make them count.”
FRIENDS
do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Bit counterintuitive to still be calling them friends if that were true, no?”
who is your best friend ➔ “Interesting. Do other people genuinely tell you the full names of their loved ones without concern? How novel.”
who knows everything about you ➔ “If you ever find out the answer to this one, give me a shout, yeah? Love to meet ‘em.”
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sweetness47 · 5 years ago
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It’s a Parent Thing
 Pairing Sam x Reader
Other characters include Dean, Cassie (OFC), Jackie (OFC), Castiel, Jack, Mary, Donna, Jody, Claire
@teamfreewillbingo​ – Sam wears makeup
@as-the-saying-goes-bingo​ – laughter is the best medicine
Warnings: PG audience mostly. Maybe some fluff, hints of future smut, light language moments, the joys of being a parent
Final word count: 1546
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“Mommmmmmy!” The 5-year-old girl to whom the voice belongs comes running around the corner into the kitchen. “Where’s dad?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but he can’t be far. Did you check the library?”
Cassie shakes her head. “Not yet. Do you think Uncle Dean is in there too?”
A giggle escapes my lips. “It’s Uncle Dean. He’s more likely to be in the garage.”
“Thanks!” she shouts and runs off, leaving me wondering what she’s up to. No sooner do I go back to preparing dinner when Jackie comes running in. He looks up at me, then looks around the kitchen, and I know he’s looking for Cassie. I point toward the library and he hurries after her.
Now I’m really wondering. Those two can get into some pretty interesting crafts when they’re bored. Being cooped up with this pandemic has got them so wired, it’s a wonder I’m still sane. Mind you, Jody, Donna, and even Claire help a lot, plus of course, Grandma. Mary loves the kids, and spoils them rotten every chance she gets.
Oh yeah, the kids…well, better go check what’s up. Dinner isn’t going to be ready for a while, so there’s plenty of time to investigate. I make it to the library just as Cassie is talking…no more like pleading with Sam to do something.
“Pleeeaaasseeee??? C’mon Dad, you gotta. It’s not going to work with only one person. You and Uncle Dean have to help.”
I almost die laughing when he responds, “I’d love to help Cassie, honest. But guys don’t typically wear makeup.” Then he looks toward the door. “Did you ask Auntie Donna or Aunt Jody? Or how about Claire? She would love to be in the beauty pageant.”
Oh God, I’m pissing myself now. Cassie is persistent though. “Claire’s already in it, and Auntie Donna and Aunt Jody are the judges. So that leaves you, Uncle Dean, Uncle Cas, and Jack.”
I choose this moment to pop in. “She’s bored Sam. She’s looking for something to do. And she wants her dad to help. I think you’d be perfect.”
He gives me a ‘just wait till we’re alone’ look before smiling at his daughter. “Ok. I’ll come help, and I’ll even convince Uncle Dean to help. How’s that sound?”
Squeals of delight followed Cassie as she skipped cheerfully out and down the hall, Jackie close behind. Sam glared in my direction. “You owe me big time for this.” Then he kissed me and followed the two youngsters.
After having a huge fit of laughter, I sought out Jack and Cas, telling them to prepare for something fun, then went looking for Mary. She’d be thoroughly dismayed if she missed this.
I find Mary in the weapons room, cleaning guns. I sit beside her and pick up a cloth and a barrel from the glock she’s currently working on. “Hey Mom. S’up?”
She smiles at my greeting. My own mother passed away years ago, and Mary has been nothing but amazing to me since. “Not much. I heard the kids are up to something.”
I giggled. “That’s an understatement.” I tell her what I heard and what Cassie was asking Sam. “Want to see this?”
She puts the chamber down. “Definitely. And I’m bringing the camera.”
“Me too.” I say as we head out to the family room.
According to Donna, the ‘show’ starts in about 20 minutes. The ‘contestants’ are still getting ready. I’m literally dying inside. Of all the things for the kids to come up with, a beauty pageant. I’m not just going to take pictures, I’m filming the whole damn thing.
Jack agreed to be a contestant as well, saying he felt sorry for Sam and Dean. I smile. Jack is great with the kids as well. He seems fascinated by the simplicity of playing pretend, and imagining things.
Jackie comes out a few minutes after we all get seated. “Nuncing our beuty pajent.” We all giggle. Jackie is three, still struggling with pronunciation, so conversations with him are never dull.
Cassie comes out first and pretends to hold a microphone. “First contestant, Miss Claire.”
Claire comes out strutting to her own beat, hand on hip as she twirls around to show off her outfit and makeup. Her hair (I’d say done by Jackie) has a hap-hazard ponytail sticking out the top of her head, and numerous fake flowers. Claire’s outfit was a 40’s style dress, no doubt taken from a huge prop room the former MoL occupants had stashed. It was quite flattering on her actually, the rich burgundy velvet was a beautiful contrast to her fair skin.
Jack came out next, and we had to hold in our laughter. Jack was wearing a gold color suit, like very shiny glittery gold, and had little barrettes in his hair. He had lipstick and some eye shadow, both various shades of red. His shoes were actually pink flats, also very shiny, and very neon. We clapped and cheered for the way Jack managed a graceful walk down the runway, then waited for the next round.
“Our third contestant, Uncle Dean!”
Dean came out in a whirlwind of color and lace. He lightly skipped down the runway, hand on hip, while making kissy faces to everyone. Even Castiel was doubled over with laughter. I had tears running down my face now. His hair had been covered in a flowery hat, bright orange, and was wearing a really eye-catching shade of purple on his lips.
“And, our star contestant, Dad!”
I nearly fell off the couch as I doubled over with laughter. Tears rolled freely now, my sides hurt, but I couldn’t help it. Sam was in a frilly pink cocktail dress, satin with tulle gathered around the bottom, mermaid style. His legs were encased in shiny tights, and he wore matching pink sandals. His makeup was the best, I’m guessing Claire had some input on this one. Sam had glitter over the bottom of his eyelids, shadowed by a light pink and a touch of silver. His cheeks were toned in a pale coral, and his lips wore a lip gloss of the palest pink. I say Claire had some input because he had fake lashes glued to his eyelids. They were silver and pink tinted long lashes. His outfit was completed with silver barrettes and a pink flower in his hair, and white lace gloves.
I was so glad I was filming the entire thing. Sam made his way down the aisle with as much grace and dignity as he could muster, giving the audience smiles, winks and blowing kisses to all. He looked so adorable, although I was pretty sure he was going to kill me later, still I was glad I’d convinced him to participate.
The contestants came back on stage, waiting for the judges to finish their scoring. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the judges stood.
“In third place, we have Uncle Dean!”
Dean, bless him, smiled and waved to everyone as he walked over to receive his ‘medal’ and bouquet. He really did love the kids, there’s no way he’d have done this otherwise.
“In second place, we have a tie! Jack and Claire!”
The two second place contestants walked over to the judges and were awarded their medals and bouquets. There was only one left.
“And, in first place, Dad!”
We stood and cheered as Sam smiled and blew kisses to everyone, walking over to the judges’ desk and receiving his awards. He bowed and curtseyed. It was a beautiful sight. My husband…or was it wife now…I’d be teasing him about that later, if I lived that long. Cassie gave him a huge hug, and also gave hugs and thanks to the other contestants as well. Dean smiled and genuinely hugged them back. So did Sam, and Jack and Claire.
While the contestants got cleaned up and changed, and the living room area got fixed up, I set about finishing dinner and dessert. The house was greeted at the dining table with fried chicken, baked potatoes, all the fixings, and cherry pie. Salad and dressings were also available. There was one personal cherry pie for each of the ‘contestants’, and two more big ones for everyone to share.
Dean gave me a kiss on the cheek later, thanking me for the dessert. I thanked him for helping the kids out, and he smiled. I retired to my room, finding Sam already there, a dark glint in his eyes as he ran his gaze over my body, then bringing his eyes to meet mine. Fuck.
“So, about that payment I mentioned…”
I giggled as he scooped me into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him. “You looked so cute today though.”
He growled as we fell on the bed together. He made sure I spent the entire night paying for his beauty makeover. Numerous times.
@legion1993​
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